Europe–U.S. relations at a breaking point

Is the idea of “the West” — a political, military, and moral community anchored by Europe and the United States — still viable? Or has it become a convenient fiction, invoked more out of habit than conviction? As the year closes, a growing body of analysis in European capitals suggests that the transatlantic relationship is facing its most serious test in generations.

For decades, the Western alliance rested on three pillars: shared security, shared prosperity, and shared democratic values. Today, all three appear under strain. From trade disputes and defense spending to diverging approaches on global conflicts and technology governance, Europe and the United States increasingly seem to be talking past each other. The question now circulating in Brussels, Paris, Berlin, and beyond is no longer whether the alliance is changing, but whether it can still function as the organizing core of Europe’s global strategy.

At the heart of European unease lies a perception of unpredictability in U.S. policy. Washington remains Europe’s indispensable security partner, yet its strategic focus is clearly shifting. The Indo-Pacific has become the primary theater of American attention, while European security is increasingly framed as a regional responsibility rather than a shared transatlantic mission. For many European leaders, this recalibration feels less like burden-sharing and more like strategic disengagement.

This anxiety has been compounded by American domestic polarization, which Europeans watch with a mix of concern and disbelief. Policy reversals, abrupt rhetorical shifts, and the growing influence of isolationist currents have raised doubts about the long-term reliability of U.S. commitments. Even when cooperation continues in practice, trust — the invisible glue of alliances — has been weakened.

Security remains the most sensitive fault line. The war on Europe’s eastern flank has underscored how dependent European defense still is on American capabilities, from intelligence to logistics. Yet it has also fueled a debate about strategic autonomy that was once confined to policy circles and is now entering mainstream politics. The idea that Europe must be able to defend itself, with or without Washington, is no longer controversial; what remains unclear is how quickly that ambition can be realized.

Economic relations tell a similar story of friction beneath formal partnership. Disputes over industrial subsidies, green technology, and digital regulation have exposed competing visions of economic sovereignty. European officials privately complain that Washington now acts less like an ally and more like a competitor, pursuing domestic priorities with little regard for transatlantic spillover effects. American policymakers, for their part, argue that national resilience is a necessity in an era of systemic rivalry.

Values, once the alliance’s strongest bond, have become its most fragile. Europe and the United States still speak the language of democracy and human rights, but they increasingly apply it selectively. Europeans are unsettled by what they see as democratic backsliding and institutional stress in the U.S., while Americans accuse Europe of moral ambiguity and strategic complacency. The result is a values gap that is subtle yet corrosive.

Against this backdrop, the very meaning of “the West” is being reassessed. Is it a geographic concept, a political club, or a set of principles? For younger Europeans in particular, the term carries less emotional weight than it once did. Their political horizons are shaped by climate change, economic insecurity, and a multipolar world in which the United States is powerful but no longer singular.

This does not mean Europe is preparing for a clean break. The transatlantic relationship remains dense, institutionalized, and deeply interwoven. Cooperation on intelligence, finance, and diplomacy continues daily, often below the political radar. But there is a growing sense that Europe can no longer afford to define itself primarily in relation to Washington.

The debate now underway is about agency. Can Europe act as a coherent geopolitical player, rather than a collection of states sheltered by American power? Initiatives to strengthen common defense procurement, deepen industrial coordination, and develop independent technological capacities point in that direction. Yet progress is uneven, and national reflexes remain strong.

Critically, redefining Europe’s role does not necessarily mean opposing the United States. Many European strategists argue that a stronger, more autonomous Europe would actually be a better partner for Washington — one capable of sharing burdens rather than merely requesting guarantees. The risk, however, is that the transition period creates misunderstandings and miscalculations on both sides.

So, is “the West” over? The more accurate answer may be that it is no longer a given. What once felt like a natural alliance now requires active maintenance, negotiation, and, above all, mutual reassurance. Europe and the United States still need each other, but need alone is not enough to sustain a shared identity.

As the year draws to a close, Europe stands at a crossroads. It can cling to a fading certitude about American leadership, or it can embrace a more self-defined role in a fragmented world. The outcome will not only shape transatlantic relations but also determine whether “the West” remains a meaningful force — or a chapter in history books.