For more than seventy years, the relationship between Europe and the United States has been the basis of European security and prosperity. Donald Trump's return to the presidency, the growing uncertainty about America's commitment to European defense, and a volatile geopolitical landscape are making an old and uncomfortable question come up again: was France's stubborn insistence on strategic autonomy not just a French quirk but a sign of things to come?
Relief in Munich, but Anxiety Lurks Underneath
At the 2025 Munich Security Conference, European leaders were somewhat relieved that Washington was less harsh on them that year. In 2024, Vice President J.D. Vance gave a speech that seemed to ignore European worries, which made people uncomfortable and upset. This time, Secretary of State Marco Rubio seemed more polite, but he still criticized the situation and made it clear that the time of unconditional American promises was over.
The Europeans left Munich with the clear impression that they would have to take care of themselves in Trump's world. This alone made me anxious. But in addition to the anxiety caused by Trump's unpredictable behavior, the leaders of Europe had another, much more troubling thought: could France have been right all along?
The Prediction of Gaullism
No other European country has been so consistently doubtful about the dependability of its transatlantic ally or so stubbornly committed to the idea of strategic autonomy. When General Charles de Gaulle became president of the Fifth Republic in 1958, he told German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer that the Americans were "not reliable or stable" and "did not understand European history." De Gaulle thought that the balance of power in the world could change suddenly, even if it meant war, and that countries that didn't protect themselves were at the mercy of others.
By the middle of the 1960s, de Gaulle had acted on what he believed. In February 1960, France tested its first nuclear weapon in the Sahara Desert. This made France the fourth nuclear power in the world. He came up with the Force de frappe, which was later changed to the Force de dissuasion. This was a nuclear deterrent that would allow France to defend itself without the help of any allies. De Gaulle put it simply: "In ten years, we will have the means to kill 80 million Russians. " I really think that people who can kill 80 million Russians shouldn't attack people who can kill 800 million French, even if there were 800 million French.
On February 21, 1966, de Gaulle said that France would no longer be part of NATO's integrated military command structure. He wrote a letter to President Lyndon Johnson on March 7, 1966, saying that France wanted "to regain on her whole territory the full exercise of her sovereignty, at present diminished by the permanent presence of allied military elements. All 26,000 American and Canadian troops had left France by April 1967. NATO's Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE) had moved from Paris to Casteau, near Mons, in Belgium. To make room for the move, the Belgian government built a new highway from Brussels to Mons.
But de Gaulle was typical of someone who thought things through: France was still a member of the Atlantic Alliance, and the Ailleret-Lemnitzer agreements of August 1967 made sure that France and NATO would keep working together militarily in case of a Soviet attack. France was not part of the command structure, but it was still fully committed to collective defense if war broke out. De Gaulle's gambit was about sovereignty, or the right to choose, not about staying away from other countries.
The Suez Wound That Wouldn't Heal
De Gaulle's lack of trust in Anglo-American leadership went back a long way, but the 1956 Suez Crisis was the event that made France's complaint clear. When Egypt's Gamal Abdel Nasser took control of the Suez Canal, France and Britain worked with Israel to get it back. The campaign was a military success but a political disaster. Under President Eisenhower, the US sided with the Soviet Union in calling for the withdrawal of Franco-British troops, which humiliated its own NATO allies to keep things from getting worse during the Cold War.
France and Britain came to different conclusions about this betrayal. Britain made the decision that it could never again go against what the US wanted, and it strengthened its "special relationship" with Washington. Under de Gaulle, France came to the opposite conclusion: that depending on America was a strategic mistake and that only real national sovereignty, supported by independent military power, including nuclear weapons, could keep France safe and free to act. This difference had a big impact on European politics for the next sixty years.
Macron: The Heir to De Gaulle
Emmanuel Macron relies a lot on the work of his predecessor today. Since his first term, he has pushed for "strategic autonomy" in Europe, but capitals that are more attached to Atlanticism have often ignored him, smiled condescendingly, or even been hostile. He gave a famous speech at the Sorbonne in September 2017, just a few months after he took office, in which he called for Europe to take on more responsibility for its own defense. A lot of people said he was hurting the transatlantic bond when he said in November 2019 that NATO was "brain dead."
The years that have passed since then have made his warnings more important. At first, Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 seemed to prove the Atlanticists right: it was American weapons, intelligence, and leadership that set up Ukraine's defense. But as the war went on and American support became less certain, especially during Trump's second term, Macron's words became sharper. He talked about an "openly hostile" America and a big divide in world politics. In early 2024, he caused a stir by not ruling out European "boots on the ground" in Ukraine. At first, this idea was condemned across Europe, but it has since been supported by several other leaders.
In March 2025, Macron told the French people that "our nuclear deterrent protects us; it is complete, sovereign, and French through and through." He also said that "the decision has always been and will remain in the hands of the President of the Republic." He has also cautiously opened the door to the idea that France's nuclear umbrella could protect its European allies, which is a big change in French policy that has sparked a lot of discussion since then. He said in July 2025 that "to be free in this world, one must be feared," and he promised that France would build a new nuclear-powered aircraft carrier that would be able to operate until 2080. This was the country's biggest defense commitment in a generation.
This goal is shown in France's defense budget. The budget is set to almost double from about €32 billion in 2017 to €64 billion by 2027. The Military Programming Law for 2024–2030 sets aside €413 billion for defense, which is 40% more than the last time. To fill in gaps in areas like air defense, drones, munitions stockpiles, electronic warfare, and space capabilities, an extra €6.5 billion in emergency spending was announced for 2026–2027. The National Strategic Review from July 2025 lists eleven strategic goals and says that France and its allies need to be ready for a high-intensity war by 2030.
A Nuclear Power in a Regular Continent
France's stance in this debate is distinctive due to capabilities that no other EU member possesses. As of 2025, France has about 290 nuclear warheads deployed, making it the fourth largest stockpile in the world. These warheads are carried by four Triomphant-class ballistic missile submarines armed with intercontinental-range M51 missiles and Rafale fighter jets armed with ASMPA nuclear cruise missiles. There is always at least one submarine on patrol to deter attacks. France is the only EU country that has nuclear weapons, the only NATO country that isn't part of the alliance's Nuclear Planning Group, and it is the only country that can use them.
In addition to its nuclear weapons, France has the EU's only operational aircraft carrier, the Charles de Gaulle. It also has its own space program run by the Centre National d'Études Spatiales (CNES) and is a member of the European Space Agency. Its defense industry is large and includes companies like Dassault Aviation, Thales, Naval Group, MBDA, and Safran, which can make everything from nuclear submarines to combat aircraft to cruise missiles. Paris has permanent military bases all over the world, from the Indian Ocean to the Pacific, and it runs its own operations in places like the Red Sea and the Sahel.
In the capitals of Europe that are more pro-Atlanticism, Warsaw, Tallinn, and Vilnius, the idea of a continent without the American umbrella is very scary. Paris has its own nuclear weapons, space programs, intelligence agencies, and defense industry that doesn't answer to any other country. Because of this, the current situation feels less like a crisis and more like vindication.
If France was right, why didn't Europe follow?
But if France was right, why didn't Europe pay attention? The answers can be boiled down to three points: France was right, but it spoke too soon; France was right, but it wasn't convincing; and France was right, but it often pushed its partners away.
That's right, but it's too early.
After 1945, most Europeans didn't see American hegemony as a threat; instead, they saw it as a way to ensure stability, rebuild, and protect themselves from the Soviet Union. The Marshall Plan, the Berlin Airlift, and the founding of NATO created strong ties of gratitude and dependence that lasted for a long time. The Suez crisis of 1956 made French people more extreme, but it did the opposite for British people. Germany couldn't think of projecting power on its own because of its heavy past and the Iron Curtain that split it in two. The smaller countries in Western Europe, and later the newly independent countries in Central and Eastern Europe, felt safer with the American nuclear umbrella than with any other European option. De Gaulle's warnings about America's unreliability were too early for a continent that was living proof of America's good will.
Yes, but not very convincing
France's credibility as the champion of strategic autonomy has always been hurt by the difference between what it says and what it can do. Like all of its European neighbors, France put a lot of money into social programs like pensions, healthcare, and unemployment benefits for decades. This made it harder for the country to spend money on defense. France still spends a lot more on pensions than on its military. By 2026, its public debt is expected to be 118% of GDP. The last time Paris had a budget surplus was in 1974. Now, French sovereign debt is seen as a worse credit risk than Spanish or Greek debt in the financial markets. In 2026, France plans to borrow a record €310 billion from the markets.
Some people wonder how a country that depends on borrowing to pay for its welfare state can honestly say it is strategically independent. Also, France's call to "buy European" when it comes to weapons systems is often seen as an indirect way to promote French defense companies like Dassault, Naval Group, and MBDA. When Paris calls for joint European borrowing to pay for rearmament, a lot of people in northern Europe hear a call for others to pay. A 2025 Foreign Policy analysis put it this way: Macron's idea of strategic autonomy could become "a euphemism for a whole basket of policies" that France has long pushed for, like "excluding global competition, subsidizing industry, and forcing other EU members to accept joint borrowing so that France doesn't have to raise taxes."
Correct, but rough
And then there is the question of style that never goes away. France sees itself as a strong part of both Europe and NATO. It has the continent's only nuclear power, is a permanent member of the UN Security Council, and has the second-largest economy in the EU. But people often think that the way it states its positions is arrogant, condescending, or self-serving.
During the "Empty Chair Crisis" in 1965–66, De Gaulle stayed away from European institutions for seven months to get the other five members of the European Economic Community to agree to French demands about agriculture and the voting system. His decision to kick American troops out of the country without consulting NATO allies or giving them much notice was wrong.
In February 2003, during the bitter fight over the Iraq War between the US and Europe, President Jacques Chirac publicly humiliated the Central and Eastern European countries that had signed letters supporting the US position. He called them "childish" and said they had "missed a good chance to be quiet." He also said, "When you are in the family, you have more rights than when you are asking to join and knocking on the door." This was a thinly veiled threat to countries that are about to join the EU. The comment made people angry all over the continent. The president of Romania called it "irrational and undemocratic." Slovakia's foreign ministry said that France's criticism should also apply to EU countries like Britain and Spain, which had the same pro-U.S. stance.
Macron's dramatic actions, like his surprise proposals to send European troops to Ukraine and two-hour phone calls with Vladimir Putin that worry Western allies, have made Europe's other leaders both angry and inspired. Critics of his work see a pattern: big words, not enough action, and a tendency to mix up French and European interests.
France's Own Problems
France has also had its own problems and mistakes. Its focus on national greatness has often hidden the fact that it can't accept the realities of post-colonial life. France's long military operations in the Sahel, from Operation Serval in 2013 to Operation Barkhane and the Task Force Takuba, ended with a strategic retreat. French troops were sent home from Mali in 2022 and Niger in 2023, and Russian Wagner Group mercenaries took their place in several countries. For decades, the Françafrique system of political and economic control in former colonies has caused a lot of anger in West Africa.
France is all for European integration when it helps French interests, like a common agricultural policy that helps French farmers, a eurozone that boosts French economic power, and defense cooperation that buys French weapons. But when specific French rights are at risk, France fights against it. The country that supports Europe's strategic independence is also the one that has historically stopped EU trade deals, protected national champions from competition, and asked for special treatment in tax rules.
The Burden of Being Right
Still, France's long-standing insistence on the need for strategic independence is now more important than it has ever been. As Europeans seriously think about the possibility of a more distant or even hostile America, the intellectual framework that France has been building since the 1960s looks less like an oddity and more like something that is necessary.
Some European leaders think that Trump is an outlier and that the relationship between Europe and the US will get better. Some people are worried that the things that are making America pull back, like polarization at home, the strategic shift to Asia, war fatigue, and a more transactional foreign policy, are structural rather than cyclical. The post-1945 order in which America was Europe's kind hegemon may be coming to an end, not with a bang but with a series of signs that Europeans need to take care of their own safety.
France, which is often proud and provocative, has never been shy about saying how it sees the transatlantic relationship. Its partners might not be able to easily accept this; it can be hard to be thankful after years of feeling arrogant. But the idea that France may have been fundamentally right about American unreliability, about the necessity of European sovereignty, and about the dangers of strategic dependence still lingers across the continent: annoying, persistent, and harder to ignore.