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Europe is America’s secret weapon. And we’re giving it up

In a diplomatic season defined by silence and ambiguity, this piece delivers a startling translation of what American officials are actually saying to Europe: the alliance is a liability, not an asset. Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, and Bill Kristol strip away the diplomatic pleasantries of the Munich Security Conference to reveal a stark shift in strategy, arguing that the current administration is not just neglecting Europe, but actively dismantling the very infrastructure that makes American power possible. For busy leaders scanning the geopolitical horizon, this is not a complaint about tone; it is a forensic analysis of how transactional rhetoric is eroding the strategic leverage the United States holds over three continents.

The Signal in the Snow

The authors anchor their argument in the specific atmosphere of the 62nd Munich Security Conference, noting that the event is less a summit and more a "diplomatic trade show" where signals matter more than signed treaties. They highlight the absence of Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, whose "diminished role in Munich's diplomatic choreography speaks volumes about alliance perceptions and the premium placed on credibility." Instead, the stage was set by Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Under Secretary of Defense Elbridge Colby, whose messages, despite different tones, converged on a single, damaging premise.

Europe is America’s secret weapon. And we’re giving it up

Longwell, Miller, and Kristol write, "This administration does not understand, does not value, and will not invest in America's European alliances." This framing is effective because it moves beyond the personality of the leader to the structural choices of the executive branch. The authors argue that by treating allies as customers rather than partners, the administration is misreading the fundamental nature of deterrence. Critics might note that a focus on burden-sharing is a long-standing bipartisan concern, not a novel invention of the current White House. However, the authors counter that the framing of that burden is what has shifted from a shared strategic necessity to a transactional demand.

Allies do not merely listen to what American officials say. They weigh who says it—and what that choice signals.

The Myth of Charity

A central pillar of the commentary is the dismantling of the narrative that the U.S. military presence in Europe is an act of generosity. The authors provide a granular tour of the strategic assets that would be lost if this posture were abandoned, from the air mobility hub at Ramstein to the trauma center at Landstuhl. They argue that the U.S. presence is "one of the most advantageous force postures the United States maintains anywhere in the world," providing rapid response capabilities that cannot be replicated from across the ocean.

The authors write, "The U.S. military presence in Europe is often framed as a favor to allies. In reality, it's one of the most advantageous force postures the United States maintains anywhere in the world." This evidence is compelling because it reframes the debate from cost to capability. When Rubio and Colby argue that Europe must assume primary responsibility, the authors suggest this ignores the reality that "European-based units provide the nearest, most capable forces for reinforcement" in crises ranging from embassy evacuations to combat operations. The authors point out that the claim that President Trump forced European spending increases is a "fable," noting that the surge in defense budgets began in 2014 following Russia's seizure of Crimea, driven by "tanks crossing borders, not tweets crossing timelines."

This historical context is vital. The authors remind readers that the 2 percent GDP target was formalized at the 2014 Wales Summit under the Obama administration, a detail often lost in the current political noise. By correcting the record on why Europe is spending more, the authors expose the administration's narrative as a distortion of reality designed to justify a withdrawal of commitment.

When key U.S. leaders suggest Europe must "stand on its own," they hear us announcing: We will not stand with you.

The Strategic Cost of Transactionalism

The piece culminates in a warning about the long-term consequences of treating alliances as business deals. The authors argue that "framing alliances as cost centers ignores their strategic returns," noting that a stable Europe allows the U.S. to focus on the Indo-Pacific, while instability there would consume American bandwidth. They invoke the legacy of Wolfgang Ischinger, the former chairman of the Munich Security Conference, who designed the forum to "expose differences, test assumptions, and force participants to hear how allies and adversaries interpret risk, resolve, and commitment."

Longwell, Miller, and Kristol write, "Alliances are sustained by trust—collected in drops, lost in buckets." This metaphor captures the fragility of the current situation. The authors contend that when American representatives suggest alliances are negotiable, adversaries like Russia and China hear "opportunity," while allies hear "conditionality." The argument here is that deterrence erodes not through dramatic rupture, but through "gradual doubt and distrust." This is a sobering assessment of how diplomatic language translates into real-world security risks.

Critics might argue that the U.S. must eventually pivot its focus entirely to the Indo-Pacific, making a reduced European footprint a strategic necessity rather than a failure. However, the authors effectively counter this by explaining that "NATO does not distract from the Indo-Pacific; it enables it." They posit that the forward presence in Europe is the very thing that frees up resources for other theaters, a nuance that the current administration's rhetoric seems to miss entirely.

Bottom Line

The strongest part of this argument is its forensic dissection of the gap between the administration's rhetoric and the strategic reality of forward-deployed forces, proving that the U.S. gains more from these alliances than it gives. Its biggest vulnerability is the assumption that the administration's transactional approach is purely a failure of understanding rather than a calculated, albeit risky, attempt to force a rapid European rearmament. Readers should watch for whether this rhetorical shift translates into actual troop withdrawals or if it remains a negotiating tactic that ultimately backfires by fracturing the very unity needed to counter global threats.

The United States does not lead alliances out of charity. We lead them because no nation in history has ever secured its interests alone.

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Sources

Europe is America’s secret weapon. And we’re giving it up

by Sarah Longwell, Tim Miller, Bill Kristol · The Bulwark · Read full article

THE TRUMP ADMINISTRATION’S two representatives at the Munich Security Conference, Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Under Secretary of Defense Elbridge Colby, gave very different remarks, but the underlying substance was the same: This administration does not understand, does not value, and will not invest in America’s European alliances. Although the two men struck different tones and used different words, the unified message was conveyed as much by what they said as by who they were and what they didn’t say. Those in the room likely understood what they were being told in the subtle language of diplomacy, but for the rest of us, it’s worth translating into plain English.

The Munich Security Conference is not a traditional diplomatic summit. It produces no communiqués or treaties, and few concrete decisions. Instead, it’s more like a diplomatic trade show—an annual gathering where heads of state, ministers, military leaders, intelligence officials, industry executives, and civil society voices confront the world’s (and especially Europe’s) most pressing security challenges.

For more than a decade, the conference’s former chairman, Amb. Wolfgang Ischinger, curated an agenda designed to provoke candid, sometimes uncomfortable exchanges. He once explained to me that his aim was never consensus for its own sake, but clarity: to expose differences, test assumptions, and force participants to hear how allies and adversaries interpret risk, resolve, and commitment. In Munich, words are not mere rhetoric; they are signals parsed in capitals around the world.

The conference itself has long been a reflection of the transatlantic alliance. When I commanded U.S. Army Europe, our forces—alongside our German hosts and other allied militaries—provided aviation, logistics, communications, and security support, long before the first speakers took the stage at the packed conference room of the Bayerischer Hof, all to ensure that delegations could meet safely. It’s an unglamorous mission, largely invisible to the public, but emblematic of how alliances function: shared burdens, mutual trust, and capabilities woven together in ways no nation could replicate alone.

The last conference I attended as the commander of U.S. Army Europe was in 2012, and the American delegation reflected the bipartisan weight the United States once brought to the table. Sen. John McCain was there with other senators and representatives from both parties, as were then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, then-Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta, and senior national security leaders from across the administration. Their messages differed in emphasis but were unified ...