Arshad Mahmood Awan
In her 2025 State of the Union address, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen framed Europe’s current challenge as a “fight for a continent that is whole and at peace.” The sentiment was accurate: Europe does indeed face threats to its peace, security, and stability. Yet what is becoming increasingly obvious is that while the European Union has succeeded in many arenas—economic integration, regulatory frameworks, enlargement, and conflict prevention—it has not and perhaps cannot evolve into an effective defence organisation.
The original project of European integration was never designed with hard power in mind. Robert Schuman’s vision of pooling coal and steel production after World War II was not about building armies but about preventing them. By controlling the materials of war, Europe’s founders sought to make another Franco-German conflict “not only unthinkable but materially impossible.” Postwar Germany was deliberately embedded in a web of institutions that restricted its autonomy and curtailed any chance of continental domination. This structure dispersed power, preventing hegemony and keeping peace.
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The EU’s complex system of checks and balances is a feature, not a flaw. Small states enjoy outsized representation in the Council and Parliament, ensuring that no large member can dictate terms. Consensus decision-making is deeply ingrained, even when treaties allow majority voting. While this model has helped the EU succeed in trade and economics, it is profoundly unsuited for military decision-making, where speed, clarity, and centralised command are essential.
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Defence is fundamentally different from economic policy. Trade negotiations can take years; military threats require responses in hours. The EU’s institutional DNA—deliberation, compromise, and delay—collides with the requirements of modern warfare. One cannot wait a decade to decide whether to invest in air defences or tanks, nor can consensus rules function effectively in the fog of war.
The war in Ukraine has brutally exposed this weakness. While the EU has played an important role in sanctions and economic support, when it comes to actual hard power, it has been NATO—not the EU—that has carried the burden. With the US signalling fatigue and figures like Donald Trump openly questioning America’s security commitments, Europeans now face a dilemma: how to defend themselves in a hostile world without sacrificing the very structures that define the EU.
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The reality is that NATO, not the EU, remains the only credible military framework for Europe. Despite its imperfections, NATO provides a clear chain of command, strategic clarity, and the US nuclear umbrella. The EU, by contrast, lacks both the doctrine and the hardware to project force. For many Eastern European states, NATO membership is the ultimate security guarantee, not EU integration. If Washington withdraws, Europe will face a stark choice: either dramatically increase defence spending and military integration under NATO’s umbrella or accept vulnerability.
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This does not mean the EU has no defence role. Its power lies in coordination, not combat. Defence procurement, arms production, research, and standardisation are areas where Brussels can facilitate collaboration. The EU can pool resources, reduce duplication, and encourage greater integration of defence industries. It can also use its financial clout to support member states in modernising militaries. Yet when it comes to deploying troops or conducting operations, responsibility will remain firmly in national hands—or with NATO.
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The Political Obstacle The greatest obstacle to an “EU army” is not institutional but political. No state is willing to forfeit sovereignty over war and peace. For smaller states, retaining the right to decide on life-and-death matters is non-negotiable. For larger powers like France and Germany, ceding authority to Brussels on defence would undermine their own national prestige and strategic autonomy. Consensus ensures inclusion, but it also guarantees paralysis when rapid action is required.
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The irony is striking: the very qualities that made the EU a remarkable peace project—its inclusivity, its consensus-driven culture, its dispersal of power—are the same qualities that prevent it from becoming a military power. To transform it into a war machine would require dismantling the very principles that sustain it. And that would mean sacrificing the EU’s identity for ambitions it was never designed to fulfil.
Europe stands at a crossroads. With Russia testing its resolve and America’s reliability in question, the continent cannot avoid hard choices. But expecting the EU to evolve into a credible military actor misunderstands its nature. The EU can support, coordinate, and fund—but it cannot command. If Europeans truly wish to defend themselves, they must look elsewhere—either strengthening NATO, creating coalitions of willing states, or accepting higher national responsibilities. Ursula von der Leyen’s call for a “whole and peaceful” Europe remains noble, but without clarity about institutions and responsibilities, Europe’s defence will remain dangerously inadequate.
