On 27 September, I had the opportunity to interview Peter Beschnidt, who served in Islamabad in 2005, in Afghanistan in 2006, and later in Switzerland from 2015 to 2021 as a military diplomat. He is currently a Senior Advisor in the Swiss Defence and Security. Our discussion focused on two key areas: the future of NATO and the evolving relationship between the European Union and the United States, particularly in light of growing tensions within the alliance following US Vice President JD Vance’s address at the Munich Security Conference on 14 February 2025.
The central question in our exchange arose from President Trump’s renewed demand that NATO’s European partners increase their defence spending, framed against the ongoing Russia–Ukraine war that began on 22 February 2022.
The key takeaways from this discussion may be summarised as follows: while the alliance is undoubtedly under strain, a complete US withdrawal from NATO remains unlikely in the foreseeable future. France and Germany possess the capacity to counter the Russian threat, yet their respective histories and present global priorities reveal deep divergences. These differences render the prospect of a robust bilateral alliance between them improbable. Meanwhile, the shooting down of Rafale jets deployed by the Indian Air Force against Pakistan has cast doubts on the technological capabilities of Dassault Aviation, France’s flagship aeronautics firm. This episode is widely regarded as one of the factors that compelled German Chancellor Friedrich Merz to announce plans for building a sizeable German army.
Germany, with a population of 83.5 million in 2025, recorded 400,000 young men reaching the age of military service that year alone, suggesting a demographic base sufficient to support such ambitions. Yet the deeper question persists: is this younger generation willing to shoulder the burden of rearmament?
In the absence of a common philosophy or ideology, a common enemy remains the most tried and tested method of unifying disparate peoples
Neighbouring Poland provides an instructive contrast. With an army of 360,000 and a steadily growing economy, Poland has long been a key strategic partner of the United States. It was among the first recipients of substantial American aid after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the collapse of the USSR in 1991. On 9 July 1989, President George H. W. Bush, accompanied by First Lady Barbara Bush, visited Warsaw as well as Budapest—a symbolic milestone, given Warsaw’s role as the city where the Warsaw Pact was signed, consolidating the Soviet bloc as NATO’s counterweight. Bush was, in fact, the fifth American president in two decades to visit Poland, following Richard Nixon (1972), Gerald Ford (1975), Jimmy Carter (1977), and Bush himself, as Ronald Reagan’s Vice President, in 1987.
This succession of visits illustrates the enduring importance of Poland for American strategy in Europe.
History, however, has moved on. With Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Poland once again finds itself at the frontline of European insecurity. Despite repeated Russian denials of any intent to invade Poland, Warsaw remains acutely threatened and has absorbed the largest number of Ukrainian refugees. Yet, with sustained American support, Poland has made remarkable economic progress and now even aspires to join the G20.
It is therefore plausible that, even if NATO becomes less effective—without being formally dismantled—the United States will continue to project its influence in Europe through Poland, particularly in the Baltic and Balkan regions bordering Russia.
In other words, even should a settlement is eventually reached in Ukraine, lasting calm in the Baltic–Balkan corridor is unlikely. This region is set to remain an arena of low-intensity military manoeuvring but high-intensity diplomatic engagement for the foreseeable future. The result is a persistent sense of unease, vulnerability, and disunity among NATO’s European members—conditions that ensure they remain under enduring American influence.
Can one then conclude from this picture that it is in the United States’ interest to keep Europe on edge—perpetually threatened, and therefore perpetually reliant on Washington for its security? Or is it, rather, the Russian desire to restore absolute control over regions previously part of the USSR?
So, what choice does Europe have?
Peter Beschnidt offered a measured response to the idea of Germany and France forming a military alliance (in the event of a US withdrawal from NATO), one being Europe’s strongest economy, the other possessing advanced arms production capacity. Such a development may not be entirely beyond the realm of possibility. Yet every country in Europe has its own outlook on world affairs, its own ideological preferences, and its socio-political philosophy. This is evident, for instance, in France’s recognition of the state of Palestine, following Portugal. The example illustrates how public sentiment can shape external policy, which in turn resists being compressed into a unified political philosophy.
In other words, Europe may remain united under the EU with a broader definition of common goals and interests economic prosperity, democracy and human rights. Even here, points of departure exist. Slovakia, for example, has recently passed a law recognising only two genders, male and female, mirroring the United States. Such a stance does not align with the preferences of other European nations. To imagine, therefore, that a single philosophy could bind the whole of Europe together is unrealistic.
What, then, can keep Europe united?
In the absence of a common philosophy or ideology, a common enemy remains the most tried and tested method of unifying disparate peoples. This is precisely where Russia figures tall in the picture. Yet this cohesion will hold only so long as European nations continue to perceive themselves firmly on NATO’s side of the fence.
That fence, however, cannot be broken by brute force alone. That is something the Russians would do well to reflect upon.