Europe's Defence Deficit: Why NATO is Unprepared for the Next Eastern Front

A New Era of European (In)security

With its hybrid warfare tactics — both kinetic, like missile debris landing from Ukraine into Poland, and non-kinetic, such as cyberattacks that have shut down power grids in Western Europe (with France openly acknowledging Russia as the source) — Moscow is systematically targeting not just Ukraine, but Europe as a whole. The world is watching nervously, fearing it may stumble into yet another overwhelming conflict. Needless to say, repeated violations of Polish airspace and escalating hybrid threats to Moldova are only adding fuel to the fire.

At the 2025 NATO Summit in The Hague, Allies committed to significantly increasing defence spending, pledging to allocate 5% of GDP annually by 2035 to strengthen core defence and security needs. Beyond national spending, all Allies contribute to NATO's common budgets through a cost-sharing formula based on Gross National Income — a system designed to reflect the principle of equitable burden-sharing. However, will this sense of collective responsibility be evenly distributed among NATO members? With a heavyweight like the U.S., it isn't easy to predict. The Trump administration has repeatedly pressed Europe to bear the burden of its defence. Realistically, though, it's not that simple.

Since NATO's founding in 1949, the Alliance has relied heavily on the United States. Credible defence and deterrence against any Soviet aggression rested on Washington's commitment to the defence of its allies. Now, Trump oscillates between urging Zelenskyy to surrender Ukrainian territories for the sake of a so-called "peace deal" and admitting that negotiations with Putin seem impossible, necessitating continued military support to Ukraine as part of Europe's broader security.

The core question remains: Could Europe defend itself without the U.S. at all? More than 30 American military bases are stationed across the continent, their legal status governed by bilateral agreements — known as Access, Basing, and Overflight (ABO) agreements — which determine how and when the U.S. military can operate on European soil, in European skies, and through its waters. These agreements tend to be generous, enabling the U.S. not only to defend Europe but also to serve its broader global interests. (The bigger question: What would happen to these bases under a second Trump presidency?)

This leads us to the crux of the issue: Is Europe truly prepared for high-intensity warfare beneath the surface? And if Europe is ready to fight, is it prepared to win? Unlike the U.S., Europe lacks a unified, harmonised military system. Yet if we are to survive, we must learn to operate as one.

Legacy of Underinvestment: How Europe Got Here

In 1998, world military expenditure reached its lowest point since the end of the Cold War. But a decade after the end of the Cold War, the decline in world military spending was changing into growth. Yet this rise masked a broader trend: many countries, especially in Europe, were slashing conscription, cutting defence budgets, and neglecting long-term investments in military capacity.

European Allies, in particular, grew complacent despite Putin's 2007 Munich speech, making his ambitions clear. Just a year later, he invaded Georgia. Did Europe learn? Hardly. It has been heavily relying on the U.S. security umbrella: Norway and the U.S. train together on P-8 Poseidons in the GIUK Gap. At the same time, Poland and the Baltic states prioritise HIMARS to enable seamless handoffs with U.S. units on NATO's eastern flank. Shared equipment boosts U.S. confidence and presence in the region. Despite inefficiencies in the U.S. Foreign Military Sales process, European countries continue to rely on American weapons due to the long-term reliability, maintenance, and upgrades that the U.S. defence industry guarantees — a key reason behind their investment in expensive, delayed systems like the F-35. 

This reliance on U.S. leadership has deep roots in NATO's post-9/11 trajectory. The Afghanistan mission influenced the Alliance's strategic stance for twenty years, with training and acquisitions geared more toward expeditionary warfare and counterinsurgency than territory defence. Standardising procedures, facilitating interoperability, and enabling countries with limited resources to participate proved valuable for coalition-building, but ultimately couldn't substitute for national strategy or political will. While NATO provided structure and cohesion, it never dictated the war's aims; that remained in Washington's hands.

Only in recent years has NATO begun to recalibrate its approach. The Afghanistan trap delayed NATO's shift toward preparing for high-intensity conflict on its borders. Only with the 2021 Brussels Summit did NATO formally recognise China as a systemic challenge, marking the start of a broader refocus. Since then, every NATO summit has escalated its rhetoric on China and sharpened its attention on military readiness and deterrence. The Alliance is recalibrating from out-of-area campaigns back to core defence tasks, driven not just by Russian aggression, but also by the looming spectre of great power competition with Beijing.

Strategic Complacency

Today's wishful thinking among Western allies that a world war is something to be avoided and is unrealistic to prepare for as soon as possible reminds us of the same security posture before the First World War. The so-called Sarajevo Syndrome serves as a poignant reminder that assumptions about peace are often shattered by reality. In both 1914 and early 2022 (and we can also rewind the tape to 2014 to compare these cases too), policymakers and the public in the West convinced themselves that large-scale wars between major powers were relics of the past. Just as Europeans on the eve of World War I believed economic integration and "civilisation" would prevent war within Europe, many in the West assumed conflicts like Russia's threats toward Ukraine would never escalate beyond rhetoric. War, it seemed, was something that happened elsewhere — in the Balkans, in failed states, on distant borders — but not on Europe's doorstep. But closing the eyes doesn't make the problem disappear. 

As leaders in 1914 were sure that «war is peace», Putin too saw the invasion of Ukraine as a necessary tool to return to the idea of the Russian Empire. And like the Allies in 1914, he miscalculated both the resilience of his adversaries and the costs of war in 2014 and 2022. Western leaders, too, were distracted and complacent — focused on domestic politics or faraway crises, much like Britain's preoccupation with Ireland on the eve of World War I. History reminds us that believing war is impossible does not make it so.

The 2014 annexation of Crimea was supposed to be a wake-up call for Europe — and in some ways, it was. It caused the defence budgets of European NATO countries to steadily increase, which in turn made them more concerned about their security obligations. However, despite improvements in defence spending and acquisition, Europe was unable to overcome its reliance on Russian oil. When it ought to have been at the forefront, Nord Stream 2 remained a forbidden subject. Defence investments grew, equipment stocks were replenished, and NATO's European members increased their equipment spending by 37% in 2024 alone (compared to 15% on the U.S. side). Security is not just about tanks and missiles. Europe's reluctance to confront its energy dependence in time may yet prove to be as dangerous as its former complacency on defence. And it seems that Scholz's «Zeitenwende» speech in 2022 was quite late. 

Lessons from Ukraine's Drone Warfare: The Next Phase of Combat

For at least the last three years, Kyiv could no longer afford to wait for slow-moving European donations or overengineered Western solutions. Therefore, Ukraine's war has become a brutal and unexpected masterclass in innovation, speed, and adaptation for Western allies. Ukraine has been acting quickly, improvising, and embracing agility as a guiding principle. Bombs strapped to cheap FPV drones have become a symbol of this ingenuity, devastatingly effective, affordable, and produced at scale. In June alone, Ukrainian drones inflicted billions in damage on Russian military aircraft stationed hundreds of miles from the front, proving that the right combination of technology, agility, and courage can rewrite the rules of modern warfare.

The United States has been instrumental in this change, supporting Ukraine's most promising drone manufacturers and establishing the country's defence-industrial environment. From just 20,000 drones each month at the beginning of 2024 to over 200,000 now, the numbers speak for themselves. Ukraine's defence sector has gone from virtually non-existent to producing millions of short-range FPV drones and thousands of long-range strike systems annually. Kyiv has transformed its entire territory into a live testing ground for the future of autonomous warfare — a development that Washington and Brussels should closely monitor.

The U.S. military, on the other hand, is lagging behind Ukraine's pace because it continues to rely on costly and slow-to-adapt systems such as the Switchblade 600. Coproduction deals between American and Ukrainian companies might assist in bridging this gap by obtaining supplies for Ukraine's continuing conflict while delivering cost-effective, battlefield-tested drones to Americans. Licensing Ukrainian designs would allow the U.S. to build its production lines and develop domestic infrastructure capable of mass-producing low-cost, high-impact systems. Europe, meanwhile, should view Ukraine and the U.S. as complementary models: Ukraine demonstrates how to produce en masse and adapt on the fly, while the U.S. provides the blueprint for scaling high-end systems and strategic defences. 

The Hard Power Crisis

How Reliable is Europe's Air Defence? 

One of the most overlooked but consequential outcomes of the recent Hague Summit was not the headline-grabbing spending commitments, but the shift in what NATO is spending on. Through the NATO Defence Planning Process, a new set of capability targets was established. Among them, Integrated Air and Missile Defence stands out as the backbone of NATO's future deterrence posture. This year's IAMD update — the first since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine — reflects lessons learned: airspace is vulnerable, threats evolve fast, and NATO's post-Cold War posture was inadequate. As Secretary-General Mark Rutte underlined, "NATO must quadruple its air defences." And it's a hard policy shift rooted in the grim reality that in 2023, NATO had only 5% of the necessary IAMD assets. Now, the goal is a 300-400% increase in capacity, not to achieve total coverage (which remains unrealistic), but to prioritise and harden critical assets where they matter most. 

However, meeting these ambitions will not be possible without parallel efforts at the European level. These are still years away from achieving operational capability, despite the EU's initiation of funding initiatives such as IRIS2 and the European Defence Fund's research on missile early warning infrastructures. The conflict in Ukraine has glaringly illustrated the necessity of robust and redundant space-based ISR; if Europe is serious about protecting its skies, it cannot afford to overlook these lessons.

Ultimately, air and missile defence is no longer a support function—it is the backbone of NATO's deterrence and the enabler of forward presence and mobility. However, to realise this vision, Europe must close the gap in space. Until then, NATO's defences will remain incomplete, and Europe's sovereignty vulnerable to Russian opportunism. What matters now is how fast Europe can build not only interceptors on the ground but eyes in the sky. Only then can it match its spending to its ambitions.

Ammunition, Logistics, and Military Mobility

Apart from air defence systems, the continent continues to face structural weaknesses in ammunition production, logistics, and military mobility. On ammunition, Brussels has taken steps to address the crisis through legislative initiatives, such as the Act in Support of Ammunition Production (which is ironically abbreviated as «ASAP»). However, Europe still lacks the urgency, size, and coordination needed to keep up with the pace of industrial warfare in Ukraine. Although EU politicians have accelerated efforts to boost ammunition production, the region is nevertheless hindered by slow industrial ramp-up and disjointed procurement procedures. 

A fragmented and inefficient market hamstrings Europe's broader defence industrial posture. Procurement choices are still dominated by national preferences and protectionist tendencies, despite years of talk about establishing a single European defence ecosystem. To strengthen Europe's air defence, missile, and ammunition sectors, Ursula von der Leyen has called for a more coordinated approach to defence procurement and financing. However, development is still sluggish. The same issues are plaguing military mobility and logistics, which are the foundation of any effective deterrence. 

There is a noticeable disconnect between aspiration and actuality. The current stock and industrial capacity deficits persist while lawmakers focus on creating new laws and long-term plans. Limited economies of scale, inflated costs, and slow delivery times are the primary reasons why Europe's defence markets are highly fragmented and lack unified procurement structures. This inefficiency not only undermines Europe's readiness today but also weakens its position in the transatlantic Alliance tomorrow. The debate about European strategic autonomy cannot be separated from the hard facts of production capacity and logistical readiness. 

Solving Europe's munitions deficit requires a complete mindset shift toward preparing for a return to "total war." This is no longer about small-scale interventions or boutique capabilities but about the mass mobilisation of industrial capacity, logistics, and political will to sustain a prolonged, high-intensity conflict. To ensure a consistent and predictable supply of ammunition, Europe must revive the wartime economic tenets of extended manufacturing capacity, long-term contracts, and government-backed assurances. Without this, we would continue to be in a reactive state and be unable to support even a modest military effort without outside help. In this new era of comprehensive conflict, munitions stockpiles are a political statement of readiness and resolve.

Wars of attrition, such as the one unfolding in Ukraine, are ultimately won by those who can sustain the fight through superior resources, logistics, and production capabilities. Europe's failure to grasp this fundamental truth before both World Wars left it catastrophically unprepared — and we are now seeing echoes of that in Europe's struggle to ramp up munitions production quickly enough to meet the demands of industrial-scale warfare. Ammunition isn't just steel and powder; it is time, it is resilience, it is victory measured in months, not days.

Eastern Europe: Frontline Resolve, But Not Enough Resources 

Although it exhibits strong frontline commitment, Eastern Europe—the zone most vulnerable to possible escalation—remains woefully under-resourced. Despite their strong will, the Baltic republics are vulnerable to swift assault due to their small army, weak air defences, and lack of armoured formations. Although Poland has initiated a massive rearmament effort and purchased 250 Abrams tanks, HIMARS, and FA-50 aircraft, it still lacks sufficient missile defence coverage outside of Warsaw. Meanwhile, there are serious deficiencies in drone defence, air surveillance, and efficient NATO cooperation in Romania, Slovakia, and Hungary. Despite growing threats, NATO's current rotational deployments—such as the symbolic 1,000 troops in Lithuania—fall significantly short of what is needed for effective deterrence. 

The Alliance has doubled down on its forward presence through eight multinational battlegroups stretching from the Baltic to the Black Sea, scaling up to brigades where necessary. However, deterrence involves more than just having troops on the field; it also involves how fast and efficiently those forces can be bolstered. The quality of the infrastructure, particularly the railway networks in the Baltic region, is one of the most glaring flaws. The Baltic States' rail systems remain disconnected from Western European standards, lacking interoperability with NATO logistics needs. The delays in fully implementing projects like Rail Baltica mean that, in a crisis, moving heavy equipment across the eastern flank could be too slow or too fragmented to meet the demands of rapid reinforcement. 

Europe's Unfinished Debate

Europe's strategic autonomy is less about theory at this point and more about the complex realities of capability, leadership, and political will. Smaller coalitions, such as the G-7, are left to fill the void left by the current paralysis of international organisations like the UN and the WTO. However, Europe's underlying reliance on American leadership, especially in the areas of technology and security, is concealed by its dominance in the G-7. Without genuine investment in defence industrial capacity, coordination of security policy, and reform of its structures — for example, through unified EU representation — Europe risks remaining a junior partner rather than a co-equal stakeholder. Strategic autonomy, if it is to mean anything, must be grounded in the ability to lead and act, not just to draft communiqués. Moreover, European states risk not only shrinking compared to the U.S. defence posture but also completely losing the opportunity to shape outcomes in conflicts. Europe's failure to invest deeply in AI-enabled C4ISR and autonomous military platforms leaves it dependent on U.S. systems that shape decision timelines and escalation pathways. 

Autonomy will continue to be more of an ideal than a reality until Europe bridges this structural and technical divide. Last but not least, strategic autonomy needs to extend beyond military might to encompass economic statecraft, an area in which Europe also falls short. Europe is reluctant to use its influence independently, while the United States continues to design financial and sanctions frameworks. Even with billions in frozen Russian assets, the EU's reluctance to act boldly underscores its reliance on Washington to set the tempo for punitive economic measures. Meanwhile, the dysfunction of global governance — from the UN Security Council to the WTO — demands leadership that Europe has yet to assume fully.

Toward a Credible Eastern Defence: Is Time on Europe's Side?

What should Europe embrace to be prepared? Leadership in shaping the norms, standards, and governance frameworks that will define future security landscapes. In particular, AI, cyber, and autonomous systems are domains where proactive European engagement could yield disproportionate strategic benefits. Rather than waiting for U.S. or Chinese frameworks to dominate these areas, Europe could establish independent verification bodies, advance transparency mechanisms for satellite data and autonomous military technologies, and lead in international norm-setting. 

There's also the urgency of modernising Europe's air and missile defences as a matter of strategic resilience. Addressing the present weaknesses in Europe's defensive posture requires funding and operationalising programs like the European Sky Shield that are wholly integrated with NATO's command structure. In addition, Europe had to give top priority to the swift installation of mobile air defence systems along its most exposed borders, ranging from the Black Sea to the Baltic. These actions are crucial not just for defending Europe's territory but also for bolstering the legitimacy of its deterrence strategy against changing threats, especially those posed by Russia's more advanced drone swarms and missile arsenals.

Last but not least, a real transition to a wartime production footing is required to ensure defence industrial preparedness. A protracted, high-intensity conflict is not a good fit for Europe's disjointed, peacetime-focused military sector. It is past time for EU nations to streamline their industrial capacity and implement joint procurement activities. Reducing duplication, accelerating supply chains, and fostering interoperability through shared C4ISR infrastructure would position Europe to sustain defence efforts independently, should transatlantic support falter. In doing so, Europe would move beyond rhetorical autonomy towards tangible, operational sovereignty in defence and security.

Russian occupation is not a passive presence—it is a systematic campaign of erasure, repression, and assimilation. It has pure characteristics of a genocide: in occupied areas, civilians are detained, tortured, and forcibly issued Russian passports; schools are Russified, and even time zones are altered to erase Ukrainian identity. If NATO fails to reinforce Eastern Europe with permanent infrastructure and credible defence, the price of aggression will not just be military—it will be societal collapse and cultural liquidation. The frontline may be ready to fight, but without robust support, it will not be prepared to prevent what comes after defeat.

The war in Ukraine has torn down any comforting illusions about lasting peace in Europe — and the next war, if it comes, will likely be faster, more brutal, and far more costly. Europe cannot continue to rely on the old promise of American reinforcements arriving just in time. It's time to build real depth in Europe's defences — not just in tanks or fighter jets, but in the capacity to make decisions quickly, to deter credibly, and to think strategically in moments of pressure. Because wars don't just happen, they stem from choices, failures to act, misreading signals, or a lack of resolve to draw clear lines. This is precisely why Europe must act now, with urgency and clarity—waiting until the next crisis strikes will be too late.