The dangers of ‘Not our war’

Last year, American Compass founder Oren Cass was being interviewed by The Daily Show’s Jon Stewart. Cass, a major figure in the New Right, had just finished pointing out that America had not really gotten anything for its post-Cold War NATO spending. Stewart, struggling to answer Cass’ question of what America’s leverage over Europe was for, finally answered “…the leverage is for when we wanna go into Iraq.”

This exchange came to mind over the past week as Europe has grappled with how best to respond to the Iran War. The United States, facing a closed Strait of Hormuz, has asked European allies to send ships, be they warships or minesweepers, to the strait. Europe has rebuffed his demands, agreeing to send more ships but only for the purpose of bolstering existing missions.  In particular, one phrase has been repeated by Europeans of various stripes: “Not our war.” 

“This is not our war, we have not started it,” crowed German defence Minister Boris Pistorius. The European Union’s foreign policy chief, Kalla Kajas, echoed a similar refrain, saying, “This is not Europe’s war.” This has enraged Trump, leading the president to muse about changing, or even leaving, NATO.

Many Europeans, many Americans, and frankly, a good few Republicans, are sceptical of, or are downright opposed to, the Third Gulf War. But Europe may come to regret not rustling up some minesweepers to send to the gulf, even as a symbolic gesture.

Firstly, it is rich of European leaders – most of whom have spent the last four years stretching believability on how the Russo-Ukrainian War is America’s war – to suddenly adopt a “Not my monkeys, not my circus” mentality here. “Not our war” will absolutely be thrown back in the face of Europeans the next time they ask the United States for some sort of Ukraine aid package.

But the problem Europe has caused itself here is much deeper. When President Trump came back into office, Brussels was genuinely concerned that it would be the end of NATO, or at least that the defence organisation was about to be put into the deep freeze. American New Right figures had written about “Dormant NATO,” and many in Trump’s orbit had been openly antagonistic toward it.

Instead, something of the opposite occurred: NATO’s General Secretary Mark Rutte turned out to understand Trump very well, and was able to negotiate an agreement which saw all NATO member states (minus Spain) agree to spend five per cent of GDP on military and military-adjacent spending by 2035. But beyond a few other moments of disagreement – such as the United States’ removal of troops from Romania and its designs on Greenland – the Trump administration has stayed mostly away from outright threats to leaving NATO.

Rutte’s success should not be understated here: Europe had, shockingly, not only avoided the worst, but managed to kick the can down the road another ten years. 

That has obviously changed after Iran. And it’s because Europe still, more than ten years after Trump entered the scene, fundamentally misunderstands him, how the United States views itself, and how the United States views Europe.

A quick aside: “How Europe views itself” was purposefully left out of the above list. Europe does not view itself as an actor on the international stage. Pistorius himself inadvertently confirmed this when he said, “What does … Donald ​Trump expect from one or two handfuls of European frigates in the Strait of Hormuz that the powerful American Navy cannot accomplish?” Europe is aware that it is weak, and is now using that weakness as an excuse for inaction.

Trump views the United States as a power which must look out for itself. As such, alliances are conveniences; they last as long as they are useful. This is far from former President Joe Biden’s calling NATO “a sacred obligation,” but there’s a reason that Biden has “former” before his title and Trump does not; reality is reality, and one has to deal with it such as it is.

For Europe, that means they must deal with someone who sees them as having inherited control of a company – the US government – which has contracts with partners, contracts he cannot quite understand the purpose of. The partners don’t necessarily bring anything; perhaps they helped in a key region in ages past, but now they just sort of sit there, without contributing much.

If the partners want to stay partners in that situation, they should do whatever is necessary to convince Trump of their usefulness. Rutte understood this, which is why he was able to negotiate so well with Trump; while it may have wounded the pride of some Europeans when he called Trump “Daddy,” he was also the only person who understood Trump’s frustrations. Watching his panel in Davos last month, when he spoke with other European leaders, is almost a painful experience, as Rutte repeatedly urged NATO leaders to understand that they need the United States to remain in their fold.

Rutte has, not coincidentally, uttered no such “Not our war” statements. Because he understands the severity here. The United States – at least the Trump administration, and much of the American Right – already is not quite sure as to why we remain so involved in NATO. Russia’s pathetic display in Ukraine has eradicated concerns that they could threaten much of the continent (much less the Americas), and with Europe not really rearming, remaining involved makes increasingly less sense.

Sending minesweepers would be a relatively easy way to have earned some chits with the administration; “See, we helped you go into Iran.” It’s not as if the Iran War is one which they heavily disagree with: All major Western capitals essentially cheer leaded the war. They could personally disagree with the conflict, but as Rutte indirectly pointed out time and time again, one should put pride aside when it comes to these sort of issues.

Because right now, NATO is vaguely useful for the United States in that it keeps the Atlantic free of enemy control. But with population replacement, a weak Russia, slowing (and already broken) rearmament promises, Europe needs every reason it can get to keep itself relevant to the United States. This was a chance to do so – and they failed to take it.

It remains an open question as to how many more chances they will get.