AFTER IRAN: DOES NATO STILL WORK?

Against the backdrop of the U.S.–Iran war, a fundamental question is quietly resurfacing on both sides of the Atlantic: what exactly is NATO for? The conflict has exposed a widening gap between Washington’s expectations and Europe’s strategic priorities. While the United States reportedly expected stronger political and military backing from its NATO allies, European leaders have shown little enthusiasm for deeper involvement in the conflict.

In a move widely interpreted as a signal of growing frustration, President Trump announced on May 1 a plan to withdraw American troops from Germany over the next twelve months. For decades, U.S. forces stationed in Germany represented far more than a military deployment—they symbolized America’s long-term security guarantee to Europe, ensuring rapid readiness in the event of a major threat to the continent.

WHY IT MATTERS

If the United States gradually reduces its military footprint in Europe, someone will need to fill the vacuum. Increasingly, Germany appears ready to assume a larger role. Following years of hesitation, Berlin has begun expanding military spending and reconsidering its strategic posture.

But this raises a historic question Europe has struggled with for generations: what does a Europe led militarily by Germany actually look like?

This is neither inherently good nor bad. The real issue is whether Germany can grow into such a role politically, militarily, and psychologically—and whether Europe itself is prepared for a security architecture in which Berlin becomes the continent’s dominant military actor.

A deeper, less discussed implication may emerge if European states increasingly rely on Germany for security: German domestic politics would cease to be merely German. They would become strategically relevant across the continent.

Security dependency tends to create political gravity. Countries dependent on a larger power for protection often become more attentive to that power’s political preferences, electoral shifts, and strategic priorities. Over time, governments may gradually adapt policies—not always because domestic conditions demand it, but because maintaining close alignment with the state capable of providing assistance during a crisis becomes politically rational.

This is rarely a sudden process. It unfolds slowly, through institutional coordination, diplomatic habits, procurement decisions, political expectations, and shared strategic culture. Yet over time it can reshape how smaller or more vulnerable states define their room for manoeuvre.

If Germany becomes Europe’s indispensable military actor, then a larger question emerges: would Europe merely become safer—or would German politics begin, quietly, to Europeanize?