Europe's Faustian Bargain: Trading Sovereignty for Security

By Gillian Schutte

By early 2025, the Ukraine conflict had devolved into diplomatic weariness and strategic disarray. Initially touted as a defence of Ukrainian sovereignty, it morphed into a protracted geopolitical confrontation, largely initiated by the United States but increasingly funded—and politically absorbed—by Europe. The US began a subtle but deliberate shift in posture, evident in the February 2025 meeting between President Donald Trump, Vice President JD Vance, and Volodymyr Zelenskyy. The encounter, conspicuously lacking in joint declarations or military pledges, marked not just Zelenskyy’s isolation but also the handing over of the conflict's logistical and symbolic weight to the European bloc.

This shift did not indicate American disengagement but revealed a deeper strategic recalibration. While many in Europe misread Trump’s posture as a withdrawal from militarism—possibly even a step toward world peace—the pattern was soon evident. As analyst Brian Berletic of 'The New Atlas' argues, the shift was embedded in a pre-existing architecture of US strategic planning. Berletic identifies this as a “division of labour,” a calculated policy crafted within US think tanks long before Trump’s second term. The United States, he notes, had already set in motion a new posture of controlled dominance, particularly in the Middle East. This included the intensified bombing of Yemen, an unflinching stance on Gaza, and the orchestration of regime change in Syria—culminating in the toppling of its president and the deepening of a refugee crisis across the region. Europe, in this arrangement, was tasked with absorbing the financial and political costs of the Ukraine-Russia confrontation, while Washington maintained broader hegemonic oversight.

Europe complied. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom announced new rounds of military aid. These were not defensive measures—they were geared to strengthen Ukraine’s combat capabilities and further entrench Europe in the machinery of war. French President Emmanuel Macron pledged €2 billion in new arms, describing the move as part of a European peacekeeping initiative. The term was a misnomer. These actions were aligned with escalation, not mediation.

The European escalation coincided with a United Nations-brokered proposal for a 30-day ceasefire, supported by several Global South nations including Brazil, South Africa, and China. Russia rejected the offer, citing its lack of guarantees and accusing Western powers of using it as a cover for Ukrainian rearmament. Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov described the proposal as a “pause for rearmament,” pointing to the absence of diplomatic reciprocity and the persistent dismissal of Russia’s demand for a new security architecture.

President Vladimir Putin, speaking at a February 2025 summit in Belarus, had rejected Western claims that Russia sought to invade NATO countries. He described such accusations as manufactured hysteria designed to keep Europe ideologically aligned with U.S. objectives. Putin reiterated calls for a multipolar world order and security guarantees that include the demilitarisation of NATO’s eastern flank—requests that have been on the table since 2021, but are routinely dismissed by transatlantic leaders.

In the face of public scepticism, European elites continue to justify the conflict through moral binaries: democracy versus autocracy, civilisation versus barbarism. This framing allows governments to bypass scrutiny, criminalise dissent, and redirect national budgets from welfare to warfare. What was once framed as a temporary emergency response has now become an open-ended policy shift.

The economic consequences are unfolding in real time. In the United Kingdom, the slashing of 50,000 civil service jobs is framed as “fiscal efficiency”, even as schools face £500 million in cuts and the NHS enters a state of near-paralysis. France is cutting overseas aid by 35%, while regional governments struggle to fund education, healthcare, and housing. In the Netherlands, higher education and public infrastructure are victims of ongoing austerity. Across the EU, these cuts are not isolated—they represent a coordinated redirection of resources from the social contract into militarised statecraft.

Public frustration continues to intensify. In France, the Gilets Jaunes (Yellow Vests) have resurged, fuelled by the disintegration of public services and rising inflation. In the UK, grassroots movements question why their government is pouring billions into arms while the NHS collapses and poverty rates climb. Dissent now spans the political spectrum, with libertarians, socialists, trade unionists, and anti-imperialists all voicing alarm. This convergence of ideological discontent—though chaotic—signals a deeper legitimacy crisis within European liberal democracies.

Yet this dissent, though growing, is neither coordinated nor institutionally represented. European political parties remain largely captured by NATO orthodoxy and fearful of challenging American dominance. The result is a political landscape devoid of imagination, where loyalty to Washington’s geopolitical strategy overrides national interest or democratic accountability.

Europe’s crisis is not military—it is philosophical. The continent claims to uphold democratic values while eroding its welfare infrastructure and silencing alternative visions. It insists on global leadership while acting as an operational wing of US foreign policy. Its leaders, groomed in post-war institutions shaped by American patronage, cannot conceive of European security outside of NATO doctrine. This dependence is cultural as much as it is strategic.

Since 1945, Europe has been positioned as a junior partner in the transatlantic alliance—a role cemented by military dependency and institutional alignment. What began as post-war reconstruction has evolved into a structural obedience. European leaders rely on U.S. think tanks for policy frameworks and are largely unwilling to diverge from American priorities, even when doing so contradicts their populations’ needs.

This subordination is now colliding with geopolitical realities. Across the Global South, Europe is increasingly seen as an appendage of the American empire. Its credibility as an independent actor is collapsing. Meanwhile, BRICS nations are consolidating influence, offering a multipolar vision that challenges the West’s economic and diplomatic monopoly. Russia, sidelined by the West, is expanding ties with China, India, and other non-aligned nations. Sanctions meant to isolate have, paradoxically, expanded alternative global circuits.

Despite these shifts, European leaders remain wedded to an outdated world order. They treat dissent as destabilising, and multipolarity as a threat rather than an opportunity. Instead of engaging new alliances or reconsidering the structure of transatlantic dependency, they double down—sacrificing public welfare, democratic process, and long-term stability to maintain symbolic alignment with Washington.

The Ukraine conflict has revealed the fragility of Europe’s political imagination. It has laid bare the failure of its leaders to break from inherited loyalties or conceive of a future in which Europe governs itself. Even as public anger rises and alternative visions gain traction globally, European governance remains fixated on militarisation, austerity, and obedience.

Unless Europe reclaims its autonomy and rebuilds its social foundations, it will not only lose relevance—it will surrender its very identity. The future of the continent does not hinge on battlefield victories but on whether its people and institutions can reject the politics of subordination and chart a sovereign, humane, and multipolar path forward.

The true danger is not Russia’s ambition—but Europe’s inability to reflect.

* Gillian Schutte is a South African writer, filmmaker, and social justice activist. Her work interrogates systems of power, capitalism, patriarchy, and whiteness, and is rooted in the defence of the commons, decolonial justice, and the dignity of all life.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.