U.S. President Donald Trump revels in his reputation as a disruptor. Europe has typically been on the receiving end. Cozying up to Russian President Vladimir Putin, calling for the seizure of Greenland, slapping arbitrary tariffs on the European Union, forging alliances with insurgent parties and politicians on the far right, threatening to punish NATO allies for not backing the United States against Iran—there has been no shortage of drama in trans-Atlantic relations since he took office last January.
But as NATO’s annual summit in Ankara, Turkey, on July 7-8 draws near, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that an equilibrium has emerged. European leaders have learned how to handle Trump. Trump’s haphazard efforts to reshape continental order have yielded only partial results. As a result, the trans-Atlantic alliance has degenerated into a partnership of convenience, but it is a partnership all the same.
U.S. President Donald Trump revels in his reputation as a disruptor. Europe has typically been on the receiving end. Cozying up to Russian President Vladimir Putin, calling for the seizure of Greenland, slapping arbitrary tariffs on the European Union, forging alliances with insurgent parties and politicians on the far right, threatening to punish NATO allies for not backing the United States against Iran—there has been no shortage of drama in trans-Atlantic relations since he took office last January.
But as NATO’s annual summit in Ankara, Turkey, on July 7-8 draws near, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that an equilibrium has emerged. European leaders have learned how to handle Trump. Trump’s haphazard efforts to reshape continental order have yielded only partial results. As a result, the trans-Atlantic alliance has degenerated into a partnership of convenience, but it is a partnership all the same.
A lot of that has to do with Ukraine. Trump’s initial push for a quick deal with Putin, a fellow strongman, went nowhere. The reasons are well known. They include Russia’s strategy of using negotiations as a fig leaf for securing its maximalist objectives, all the way to de facto ending Ukraine’s existence as an independent state, and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s refusal to cede the remainder of Donetsk. The Kremlin has reason to be disappointed, as Trump did not deliver on his initial promise. Ukraine, meanwhile, has turned the tables thanks to its edge in drone technology, carrying out strikes on Moscow and St. Petersburg. That’s why Zelensky is now interested in a cease-fire that would involve freezing the front line, as he could have some leverage over Russia.
Europeans are onboard: They are talking about direct negotiations with Putin. They supported Kyiv through the worst of times, notably Zelensky’s disastrous encounter with Trump and Vice President J.D. Vance in the Oval Office last February. From Europeans’ perspective, their sustained effort to cajole and bribe the United States—with pledges to ramp up defense spending, buy U.S. weapons, deploy a peacekeeping force through a coalition of the willing, consent to tariff hikes, and bankroll Ukraine—is paying off.
Trump is siding with the perceived winner, in this case Ukraine, as he invariably does. His tone on Zelensky has clearly become more positive. And French President Emmanuel Macron is praising the U.S. president for not acting as a “neutral mediator” anymore. To Macron, that is the main takeaway from the three-way talks with Trump and Zelensky during the G-7 meeting in mid-June. To be sure, the momentum might prove short-lived. It is far from clear whether Putin is ready for talks either, which could result in cutting losses and declaring victory (as Trump is doing in Iran). Yet, at the very least, the latter-day Russian tsar appears to have given his blessing to pro-peace voices within his court.
European states have coped relatively successfully with the frictions caused by Trump’s ill-fated war on Iran. They offered sufficient logistical support to the United States without engaging in offensive action and for the most part shrugged off Trump’s verbal attacks (with the notable exception of Italy’s Giorgia Meloni!). And then they offered Trump a stage as grand as the Palace of Versailles for the signing of his memorandum of understanding with Iran on June 18.
The optics give some credence to Trump’s claim that he secured a diplomatic victory over the Islamic Republic, even if the contents of the document may suggest otherwise. Cyprus, France, Germany, Greece, Italy, and the United Kingdom issued a statement “warmly welcom[ing]” the deal and committing (“in accordance with our respective constitutional requirements”) to help clear mines and establish freedom of navigation through the Strait of Hormuz. Whether the deal will stick or Europe will be involved in a meaningful way is anyone’s guess. However, the U.S.-Europe spat has been averted.
All that aside, Europe is not slipping into complacency about Trump or the United States more broadly—nor should it.
First, a weakened Trump is likely to be even more unpredictable. The setback in the Gulf could lead to erratic policymaking on European security and Ukraine. The pullout and delayed rotation of U.S. troops in Germany and Poland already raise questions. If Republicans lose the House at the November midterms, as they are projected to, and Trump and his family come under extensive scrutiny, there is the risk that he could compensate or try to divert attention with even more muscular foreign policy. Europe, again, could turn out to be the playground of choice.
Second and more long-term, the United States and Europe are diverging. The mantra of strategic autonomy is popular not just in Paris but also now in the EU’s Brussels headquarters. Trump’s recent decision to withhold Anthropic’s most advanced AI models, Mythos and Fable, from allies highlights enduring dependency on U.S. technology. The result is more calls for “de-risking” away from the United States in order to be immune from political and economic coercion.
This, of course, is easier said than done. Europe is spending more on defense in order to stand up to Russia, to deal with U.S. ambivalence about NATO, and to accommodate Trump’s insistent pressure. However, without strategic enablers currently provided by the United States—intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance capabilities, long-range strikes, air defenses, strategic airlift, command and control—even a Europeanized NATO cannot fully meet the continent’s defense requirements. In the best case, strategic autonomy remains an aspiration for the late 2030s and 2040s.
In this context, NATO chief Mark Rutte is trying to sound upbeat and manage tensions, even as Europe continues trying to address its long-term needs. Following the NATO defense ministerial in June, Rutte said “good progress” had been made and that allies were “spending more, and better, on the forces and capabilities we need to defend every inch of allied territory.”
Will this be the message the summit projects? Much will depend on Trump, as well as the summit’s host, Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Turkey’s president will no doubt use his ties to Trump to try to ensure everything goes well. At the same time, Erdogan will be using the summit to demonstrate Turkey’s critical role in European security and extract concessions from the United States, for example the sale of $700 million in jet engines.
With someone like Trump, there is hardly ever a dull moment. His very brand is built on making noise and grabbing attention. Yet a dull NATO summit is precisely what Europeans are hoping and praying for. Now they may be in the awkward position of depending on Erdogan to deliver it.
