Resit Kemal As / Editor-in-Chief, World of Global
Donald Trump is once again striking at NATO’s most sensitive nerves—and he does so not with diplomatic courtesy, but with an open challenge. Facing a U.S. president who bluntly says, “If you don’t pay, I won’t protect you,” the world’s largest military alliance appears to be in a state of surprising silence. The real issue is not what Trump says, but why NATO is unable to respond with strength. This sense of helplessness threatens not only military balances, but also political leaderships across Europe.
Throughout the Cold War, NATO survived on the idea of a “common threat.” The Soviet Union existed; the enemy was clear, and leadership was unquestioned. Today, however, threats are fragmented, perceptions differ, and leadership is contested. Trump feeds precisely on this vacuum. He strips NATO of its identity as a values-based alliance and reads it like an accounting ledger: who pays how much, who is a burden? This approach brutally exposes a reality that European capitals have long chosen to ignore.
Europe’s security has for decades been entrusted to the strategic umbrella of the United States. Promises were made to increase defense spending, commitments were repeated at summits, yet concrete steps were either delayed or sacrificed to domestic politics. Trump, meanwhile, has turned this situation into a story easily sold to his voters: “America is being exploited.” NATO lacks a strong counter-narrative—because the numbers do not entirely prove Trump wrong.
At this point, the problem ceases to be merely military and turns into a political crisis. Every statement from Trump forces European leaders into confrontation with their own publics. Questions such as “Why are we so dependent on the U.S.?” and “Why can’t we ensure our own security?” become powerful weapons in the hands of opposition parties. In countries already struggling with economic hardship, increasing defense spending is not an easily defensible policy before voters. As a result, political seats begin to shake.
More importantly, NATO’s institutional reflexes have weakened. A clear line cannot be drawn against Trump because there is no full consensus within the alliance. Eastern European countries are uncomfortable with Washington’s harsh rhetoric, yet they do not feel secure without the U.S. Western Europe speaks of strategic autonomy, but does not appear willing to pay its price. This state of ambivalence renders NATO a passive actor in the face of Trump.
Trump’s real success is not threatening NATO, but exposing its internal contradictions. The claim that “the U.S. will withdraw” may be exaggerated, or merely a bargaining tactic. But the psychological impact it creates is real. Security is also about perception—and today NATO projects signals of fragility rather than deterrence. This perception takes root not only in Moscow or Beijing, but also in the minds of European voters.
Ultimately, the issue is not whether Trump is a temporary figure or not. The real question is this: does NATO possess a political and strategic backbone capable of standing when U.S. leadership falters? If the answer is no, the cost will not be limited to military risks alone. More governments in Europe will fall, and more leaders will be punished at the ballot box for “failing to manage security.”
Trump may not dismantle NATO. But if he leaves it as it is, the alliance will continue to erode from within. And the first victims of this erosion will not be statements issued in Brussels, but the seats of power in Europe’s capitals.