ANALYSIS: Trump Is Undermining NATO From Within — and Putin Doesn’t Even Need to Push Any Harder

The Munich Appeal That Falls on Deaf Ears

In March 2025, at the Munich Security Conference, several European leaders publicly urged Trump to tone down his criticism. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, and French President Emmanuel Macron—all called for dialogue, restraint, and mutual respect. They used the diplomatic language typical of civilized allies.

Trump did not respond with diplomacy. He responded with a tweet calling European defense spending pathetic. The message was crystal clear: the Europeans can beg all they want, but it won’t change the strategy of maximum pressure.

To beg is already to lose

The real problem isn’t that Trump refuses to listen. It’s that Europeans continue to ask permission to defend themselves. Every public plea reinforces the image of a dependent continent, incapable of taking its destiny into its own hands. Every appeal to American common sense confirms that Europe remains mentally in the position of a vassal waiting for the suzerain to deign to be reasonable.

A continent of 450 million people, home to the world’s second-largest economy, begging a single man not to destroy their collective security—that is the image Europe projects to the world in 2025.

Three Decades of Diplomatic Efforts Offered for Free

Since the fall of the USSR, Russia has tried everything to fracture NATO. Propaganda, disinformation, corruption of political elites, energy blackmail, cyberattacks—billions invested to weaken the transatlantic bond. And now the President of the United States is accomplishing for free what the Kremlin has never managed to do.

Every time Trump calls Article 5 into question, he sends a signal that Russian strategists instantly decipher: the Alliance is cracking. Every time he humiliates a European leader, he validates Putin’s thesis that the West is a colossus with feet of clay, incapable of lasting solidarity.

Deterrence works only if the adversary believes in it

NATO has never had to fire a single shot to protect its members. Its strength lies in a single certainty: an attack on one member is an attack on all members. This certainty rests on the credibility of the U.S. commitment. Yet when the commander-in-chief of the Alliance’s most powerful military suggests that he might not respond to an attack on an ally “that doesn’t pay enough,” deterrence is worthless.

And yet, no one seems to understand that deterrence is binary. It either exists or it does not. There is no such thing as 80%deterrence. A 20% doubt is enough for an autocrat to take a chance.

The Sacred Pact That Became a Formality

Article 5 of the Washington Treaty has been invoked only once in NATO’s history—on September 12, 2001, in the aftermath of the attacks on the United States. The European allies immediately answered the call. European soldiers died in Afghanistan to defend the principle of collective defense invoked by Washington. Twenty-four years later, the very same country that benefited from this solidarity refuses to guarantee reciprocity.

This isn’t ingratitude. It’s worse. It’s a message sent to every dictator on the planet: American commitments are conditional, temporary, and negotiable. Today, it’s NATO. Tomorrow, the defense of Taiwan. The day after tomorrow, the nuclear guarantee offered to Japan and South Korea.

What “collective defense” means when no one believes in it anymore

An Estonian general shared a statement with me that sums it all up: “We’re not afraid that Russia will attack. We’re afraid that no one will come.” ” This sentence encapsulates the full tragedy of the current situation. The fear no longer comes from the East. It comes from the West. It comes from Washington. It comes from a man who treats alliances like subscriptions that can be canceled at the end of the month.

The Baltic states—Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania—have a combined population of six million. Facing them are 144 million Russians and an army that, despite its losses in Ukraine, remains vastly superior in numbers. Without the American guarantee, the military equation is relentless. And Trump knows it.

A goal achieved by the majority—and ignored by Trump

Trump’s narrative is based on the idea that Europeans are free riders on U.S. security. Yet the numbers tell a different story. In 2024, 23 of the 31 NATO members met or exceeded the target of spending 2% of GDP on defense—compared to just 3 in 2014. Poland now spends 4.2%. The Baltic states all exceed 3%. Germany, long the laggard, crossed the threshold in 2024 for the first time since reunification.

But Trump never mentions these figures. Because acknowledging them would undermine his argument. Because the truth would damage his stance.

When 2% is no longer enough, it’s because the goal was never financial

The definitive proof that Trump’s criticisms aren’t really about budgets: when Europeans massively increased their spending, he raised his demand to 5%. A threshold that the United States itself does not meet, with its current 3.4%. The target shifts as it is reached. This isn’t a negotiation. It’s a constant pretext for a breakdown.

When someone moves the goalposts every time you score, the problem isn’t your shot—it’s that that person doesn’t want you to win.

The Necessary Shock That No One Wanted

There is a cruel paradox in this crisis: By undermining NATO, Trump could unwittingly force Europe to become what it should have been for the past thirty years—an autonomous strategic power. The shock of American withdrawal, if it materializes, could achieve what decades of talk about European strategic autonomy have never managed to produce: genuine political will.

France has been pushing for an integrated European defense for years. Germany has created a special €100 billion fund to modernize its Bundeswehr. Poland is building one of the continent’s most powerful armies. The Nordic countries, long neutral, have joined NATO. The momentum is real.

But autonomy is built over decades, not tweets

The problem is one of timing. Building a credible European defense takes 15 to 20 years. Developing an integrated defense industry, unified chains of command, and a deterrent to replace the American umbrella—all of this requires time, money, and above all, political will, which European democracies have historically mustered only when standing on the brink of disaster.

Yet the Russian threat is immediate. Ukraine is bleeding right now. The front lines are shifting right now. Europe’s window of vulnerability—between U.S. disengagement and the rise of a continental defense capability—could last a decade. A decade during which Europe will be strategically exposed.

A People Sacrificed on the Altar of the “Deal”

The connection between Trump’s attacks on NATO and the war in Ukraine is not accidental. It is organic. By weakening the Alliance, Trump weakens Western support for Kyiv. By humiliating European leaders, he makes it harder for them to maintain arms deliveries and sanctions against Moscow. By casting doubt on U.S. commitment, he encourages Putin to believe that time is on his side.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy understands this better than anyone. Every attack by Trump on NATO translates, on the ground, into a more aggressive Russian strategy. Every transatlantic rift is measured in square kilometers lost in the Donbas, in bombed-out cities, in lives cut short.

Cynicism Elevated to a Doctrine

Trump has explicitly made U.S. support for Ukraine contingent on concessions that no one can accept. He speaks of peace as one might speak of a real estate deal—ignoring that one party is an aggressor and the other a victim. His special envoy, Keith Kellogg, has repeatedly made statements suggesting that Washington might accept a freeze on the conflict that would legitimize Russia’s territorial gains.

And yet, this cynicism has a name in diplomatic history. When a great power sacrifices a small country to buy peace with an aggressor, it is called appeasement. And appeasement has a historical track record that everyone knows—except, apparently, those who practice it.

From Plea to Ultimatum—France’s Shift

Something shifted in the tone of European discourse during the first quarter of 2025. President Macron, who had long been cautious in his dealings with Trump, delivered a speech at the Élysée Palace in which he explicitly raised the possibility of European security without the United States. Not as a threat, but as a credible Plan B. The word “autonomy” was no longer an academic concept—it had become an operational agenda.

Poland, traditionally the most Atlanticist of European nations, began to qualify its stance. Prime Minister Donald Tusk declared that Europe must “stop begging and start building.” Germany, under pressure from public opinion, accelerated its remilitarization at a pace that would have been unthinkable five years ago.

The Generational Divide Among European Elites

A rift is widening between the old-guard European leaders—who grew up confident of American protection—and a new generation of political and military leaders who view this dependence as a structural weakness. The former are pleading with Trump to see reason. The latter are preparing for the future.

The question is no longer whether Europe can defend itself without the United States. The question is whether it will have the courage to do so before it is too late.

1938 — When a Great Democracy Betrayed Its Allies

Historical parallels are always imperfect, but some are troubling enough to warrant attention. In 1938, Britain and France sacrificed Czechoslovakia at Munich to buy peace with Hitler. Neville Chamberlain returned to London brandishing a piece of paper and proclaiming “peace for our time.” Eleven months later, World War II began.

Today, when Trump negotiates with Putin at Ukraine’s expense, when he makes the defense of his allies contingent on their ability to pay, when he treats international treaties as terminable contracts—the echoes of Munich resound. Not because history repeats itself exactly. But because the mechanisms of appeasement are universal: the small are sacrificed to preserve the great, and the great always end up paying the price for their cowardice.

What Churchill Would Say to Trump

Winston Churchill had a phrase that applies with surgical precision to the current situation: “You had a choice between war and dishonor. You chose dishonor, and you will have war.” That phrase hasn’t aged a bit. Every concession made to an aggressor merely postpones the conflict—and makes it more costly when it inevitably arrives.

Trump believes he can buy peace by abandoning Ukraine and weakening NATO. History teaches us that this strategy has never worked. Not once. Ever.

The Normalization of the Unacceptable

There is a media phenomenon that is significantly exacerbating the crisis: the gradual normalization of Trump’s statements. When the U.S. president threatens for the tenth time to leave NATO, the media treats the news with the same routine as yet another controversial tweet. Outrage wears thin. The gravity of the situation is blunted. The scandal becomes background noise.

This mechanism of information fatigue is precisely what Trump exploits. By multiplying his provocations, he dilutes the impact of each one. The hundredth attack on NATO no longer makes the front page. It is relegated to an inside page, sandwiched between a controversy over tariffs and a personal scandal. And while the media scrambles to cover the latest statement, the structural destruction of the Alliance marches on, methodically, amid general indifference.

The Duty to Name

Our responsibility, as chroniclers of this era, is to refuse to accept this as normal. To name what is happening with the right words. Trump is not “questioning” NATO—he is sabotaging it. He is not “negotiating” with allies—he is blackmailing them. He is not “rethinking” U.S. foreign policy—he is abandoning it.

Words matter. And when the right words are no longer spoken, the truth dies—not in darkness, but in the lukewarm language of diplomacy.

Worst-case scenario: an effective withdrawal

The bleakest scenario—and one that is no longer unthinkable—is a de facto U.S. withdrawal from NATO. Not a formal withdrawal, which would require a vote by Congress, but a gradual disengagement: a reduction in troops in Europe, a refusal to participate in joint exercises, a slowdown in intelligence sharing, and calculated ambiguity regarding Article 5. This scenario would create a security vacuum that neither the European Union nor any member state is currently capable of filling.

In this scenario, the Baltic states become the most vulnerable. Finland, with its 1,340 km border with Russia, finds itself on the front lines. And Ukraine loses all hope of lasting Western support.

Gray Scenario: Permanent Paralysis

The most likely scenario is prolonged institutional paralysis. NATO continues to exist formally, but its ability to act is compromised by internal divisions. Every decision requires endless negotiations. Every operation is contingent on the whims of Washington. The Alliance becomes an empty shell—present enough that no one builds an alternative, weak enough to deter no one.

This is the worst of both worlds: not enough of a break to spark a European awakening, not enough strength to guarantee security.

Clear Scenario: A European Awakening

The final scenario—the least likely but the most hopeful—is that of a massive and rapid European awakening. Faced with the collapse of the American guarantee, the Europeans decide—at last—to take charge of their own defense. Not in twenty years. Now. With doubled budgets, an integrated defense industry, a unified command, and, perhaps, a shared European nuclear deterrent centered on France’s strike force.

This scenario would require a level of political courage that Europe has rarely demonstrated in times of peace. But peace, precisely, is dying.

Comfort as Strategic Anesthesia

The uncomfortable truth that this crisis brings to light is that for thirty years, Europe has enjoyed a historic luxury: that of not having to worry about its own survival. American protection was so reliable, so automatic, so invisible in its effectiveness that it became taken for granted. Like the air we breathe—we only notice it when it’s gone.

This strategic comfort has led to an atrophy of European geopolitical thinking. Defense budgets were sacrificed in favor of social spending. The defense industries were dismantled or sold off. Armies were reduced to sizes suitable for expeditionary operations but not for territorial defense. And when the threat returned—with the annexation of Crimea in 2014, followed by the invasion of Ukraine in 2022—Europe found itself defenseless, both literally and figuratively.

Shared Responsibility

It would be dishonest to place all the blame on Trump. Europeans bear their share of the responsibility. For too long, they have relied on the U.S. security umbrella without investing in their own defense capabilities. For too long, they have ignored the warnings—including those from the Obama administration, which had already sounded the alarm about burden-sharing.

But acknowledging shared responsibility does not mean equating the moral weight of the two. Failing to invest sufficiently in defense is a strategic mistake. Destroying the alliance that protects half a billion people is an act of destruction. The two are not comparable.

Betrayal

In diplomatic vocabulary, certain words are off-limits. They are not used among allies. Euphemisms are preferred: “differences of opinion,” “strategic adjustment,” “rebalancing.” But there comes a time when euphemisms become lies.

When a founding member of a collective defense alliance refuses to honor its commitments, when it uses that alliance as leverage for domestic blackmail, when it deliberately undermines the security of its allies to serve its own interests—the right word is not “difference.” The right word is betrayal.

The Courage to Be Clear

Saying this word does not mean being anti-American. On the contrary. The millions of Americans who believe in the Atlantic Alliance, the U.S. military personnel deployed in Europe, the diplomats who have dedicated their careers to building the transatlantic bond—they, too, are betrayed by Trump’s policies. It is not America that is destroying NATO. It is one man. And that man will not last forever.

But the damage he is inflicting could be lasting. Trust, once broken, takes generations to rebuild. And autocrats around the world are watching, learning, and calculating.

What’s at stake isn’t in Washington—it’s right here

It’s very tempting to focus all our attention on Trump—on his tweets, his provocations, his unpredictability. But this focus is a trap. It prevents us from looking at what’s happening at home—in our capitals, in our parliaments, in our closed-down arms factories, and in our shrinking military budgets.

The real question isn’t “What will Trump do?” The real question is: “What will we, as Europeans, do when he does what he’s always said he would do?” Because Trump has never hidden his intentions. He’s announced them, repeated them, hammered them home. And every time, Europe has chosen to believe that he didn’t really mean what he said.

The Last Window

There may be two years left before the consequences of the transatlantic rift become irreversible. Two years to lay the foundations for a credible European defense. Two years to prove that Europe can be more than just a market protected by others. Two years to turn fear into action.

Two years. That’s very little time. It may already be too late. But it’s all we have.

NATO will not die from a Russian attack. If it dies, it will be from an American tweet—and the European silence that followed it.

Signed, Jacques PJ Provost