A few hours after posting an AI-generated image of a toddler with a Trump-style haircut, followed by an advert for a “gala luncheon” at Mar-a-Lago, the president of the United States threatened to commit a genocide in Iran. “A whole civilisation will die tonight, never to be brought back again,” he wrote on his social media network, Truth Social. “I don’t want that to happen, but it probably will.”
The condemnation in America was swift. Chuck Schumer, the Democrats’ Senate minority leader described Trump as “extremely sick”, while Marjorie Taylor Greene, a one-time Maga ally turned critic, called for his removal from office.
But in Europe, there was silence. EU officials refused to comment, as did those in Downing Street, the Élysée and the Federal Chancellery in Berlin. The reason is simple, as one European official starkly put it: “Europe needs America.”
And given the intemperate nature of the US president, any public criticism – even when he threatens to destroy a “whole civilisation” – is deemed risky.
Behind closed doors though, there is an acceptance that something has changed. After JD Vance’s astonishingly critical Munich speech last year, after the national security strategy that claimed Europe was at risk of “civilisational erasure”, which only the so-called “patriotic” parties of the far right could solve, after Venezuela, after Greenland, after Iran, after an endless stream of abuse at European leaders, the boiled frog has finally noticed the rising temperature.
“The Nato alliance is now damaged, possibly beyond repair,” said Peter Ricketts, a former head of the UK foreign office and national security adviser. The war in Iran has been “a turning point… Something is now very broken in the transatlantic relationship. The values, the actions, the rhetoric of America are completely unacceptable to European countries.
There is a realisation now, he said, that “US is no longer an ally”.
It is not just in Europe that America’s erstwhile allies are coming to terms with the idea that the US may no longer be on their side. Gulf states, which pledged more than $3tn of investments into the US during Trump’s visit to the region a year ago, were ignored during the president’s march to war and now find themselves on the frontline. Critical energy infrastructure, the bedrock of the Gulf economy, was hit as Iranian missiles and drones punctured the US security umbrella that had shielded the Arabian peninsula for decades, exposing the limitations of US protection.
‘The Iran war has been a turning point. Something is very broken in the transatlantic relationship’
‘The Iran war has been a turning point. Something is very broken in the transatlantic relationship’
Peter Ricketts, former head of foreign office
That breakdown has prompted Arab monarchies to reassess their future defence partnerships. The recent deals for cheap interceptor drones from Ukraine confirm that Gulf states are already looking to new suppliers. “Europe and the Gulf states are now realising that they are overly dependent on a player that is irrational, erratic, unreliable, that is no longer the country that they originally signed the deal with,” said Andreas Krieg, a Middle East security expert at King’s College London. “The premise on which those agreements were signed with the Americans no longer holds.”
It’s not just Trump, it’s the absence of America’s institutions. Congress has vacated the stage. At the Pentagon – or the department of war – t here has been a purge of any senior military official who might be prepared to push back. The state department has been gutted, with all significant diplomacy outsourced to two real estate guys with little experience and many conflicts of interest. State is absent around the world, too – there are 115 nations without a US ambassador.
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There are still some who are counting down the months – it’s 33 now – until a new president is inaugurated. But, as one former UK diplomat put it, “you would be unwise to think it’s all going to be alright after Trump”. While the US political pendulum could swing back to the Democrats in 2028, European security will remain a European problem to solve.
The question is what to do. In Europe, there have been two extremes. Spain’s Pedro Sánchez has taken the strongest anti-Trump stance, repeatedly lambasting Trump’s words and actions in speeches. When the Pakistani-brokered ceasefire was announced late on Tuesday, Sánchez said Spain would “not applaud those who set the world on fire just because they show up with a bucket”.
At the other end of the spectrum is Nato secretary-general Mark Rutte, who never misses an opportunity to praise the man he once called “Daddy”, even if it means criticising the other 31 members of Nato. He flew to Washington last week for a two-hour meeting with Trump, before defending the president on American TV.
Rutte’s “sycophantic” approach to Trump is now “grating on other European leaders”, said Ricketts. Some Europeans, though, are willing to defend him. “He is taking a lot of heat,” said one European official, “but people know deep down that it needs to be done. He’s saying things that no political leader in Paris or Berlin can say. It’s cringe, but it’s cringe in the service of an ideal.”
Yet all of that counts for nothing if Trump renders Nato ineffective. He may not be able to formally withdraw the US from the alliance – only Congress can do that – but he can prevent it from doing anything. European officials openly acknowledge that, in the event of an attack on a Nato member, the US is unlikely to come to their aid.
All of which is leading to discussions about what a non-American Nato might look like. Ad hoc coalitions will become more common, along the lines of the coalition of the willing organised around Ukraine or the embryonic group that is currently discussing how to return the Strait of Hormuz to its pre-war status.
A European security council has been mooted. France and Germany are increasing their defence cooperation (including the involvement of Germany in France’s nuclear umbrella), while Britain is putting renewed effort into the Joint Expeditionary Force, a 10-nation defence partnership of northern and Baltic nations.
But this is all happening slowly, and without an overarching strategy. “People are thinking about it in informal settings, but not in any formal gatherings,” said the European official. “It’s a very difficult conversation to have.”
So far, all of these initiatives have been framed as boosting Nato, not replacing it. Part of the reason is a hope, if not expectation, that post-Trump the alliance can find its feet again. “The question is when will all of this start to add up to something more consistent and deliberate by the Europeans,” said Fabrice Pothier, a former head of planning at Nato. “We’re still in the ad hoc phase but there needs to be a sense of urgency,”
In Britain, the challenge is greater because the country’s military and intelligence infrastructure is more entangled with – and more dependent on – America. The UK essentially leases Trident for its nuclear deterrent, while it’s the only European member of the Five Eyes intelligence-sharing network.
Starmer is still walking a careful path, talking up the importance of the US relationship while acknowledging the need for closer ties with the EU. He has spent the past three days in the Gulf, advocating military cooperation.
The rhetoric towards Trump has – finally –sharpened, too. The prime minister admitted he was “fed up” with him, even drawing a comparison with Vladimir Putin. By the end of the week he was also prepared to criticise Trump’s threat to end Iran’s “whole civilisation”. “Let me be really clear about this,” the prime minister said. “They are not words I would use – ever use – because I come at this with our British values and principles.”
After the second world war, Britain and France believed Europe’s security depended on the US. Their paths diverged after Suez. Britain hugged America closer, France argued Washington could not be relied on. “Perhaps,” said Ricketts, half in jest, “the French approach looks more far-sighted.”
Photograph by Kent Nishimura / AFP via Getty Images




