Europe's Defense Dilemma: Why Higher Spending Does Not Automatically Mean Stronger Armed Forces

The recent demand by U.S. President Donald Trump for an increase in NATO defense spending to 5 percent of GDP by 2035 has sparked intense debates in Europe. NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte described this as a "transformative leap," but a sober analysis of European defense policy reveals a fundamental problem: the fixation on GDP percentages as a benchmark for military capabilities is not only inadequate—it can even be counterproductive in certain societal contexts.

The example of Italy illustrates this issue with alarming clarity. In 2025, Rome reported for the first time that it had met the 2 percent target to NATO, even though actual defense spending had only increased from 1.5 percent to about 31 billion euros—far below the reported 45 billion. The difference arose from accounting reclassifications of expenditures from other ministries, particularly in the areas of cyber defense and military mobility.

This formal compliance without a substantial strengthening of military capabilities is not a coincidence but a symptom of a deep structural gap between the armed forces and society in large parts of Southern Europe. Unlike the Baltic states or Poland, where the Russian threat is perceived as immediate, Italy—and similarly Spain—lacks a societal consensus on the necessity of robust military capacities.

The roots of this gap trace back to World War II. The Italian armed forces lost significant prestige and societal relevance after their defeat—a development that bears parallels to Germany and Japan. For decades, an anti-militaristic attitude shaped public opinion. Only after the Cold War did extensive foreign deployments begin to partially restore trust in the armed forces—albeit under strict conditions: restrictive rules of engagement, obscuring the combat dimension, and a strong emphasis on humanitarian functions.

These societal frameworks lead to two problematic developments in Italian defense policy. First, additional funds are primarily directed toward politically acceptable areas: large industrial investment programs with regional employment effects and domestic deployments to support the police. For the latter alone, around 250 million euros are spent annually—deployments that, while visible in domestic politics, undermine the readiness of the armed forces.

Second, critical areas remain chronically underfunded: training, maintenance, and operational capability. Despite massive investments in armored vehicles (nearly 23 billion euros), Italy has neither increased the budget line for operations nor addressed structural weaknesses. The Italian armed forces are among the oldest in Europe, a deployable reserve effectively does not exist, and recruitment problems—especially in technical fields such as engineering and cyber expertise—remain unresolved.

These findings are of fundamental importance for European defense integration. The European Union has pursued the goal of a common security and defense policy (CSDP) for years, but the structural divergences between member states are exacerbated rather than mitigated by the current debate on spending increases.

While Finland—NATO member since April 2023—serves as a prime example of socially embedded defense readiness, Southern European states struggle with fundamental deficits. Finland's comprehensive security model is based on decades of societal consensus-building: 85 percent of the population can be accommodated in shelters, and 82 percent trust the government in a crisis—almost 30 percentage points above the OECD average. On January 1, 2026, Helsinki raised the age limit for reservists from 60 to 65 years, making nearly one million trained reservists available by 2031.

The contrast to Central European societies with eroding institutional trust is stark. According to the OECD Trust Survey 2023, trust in Slovak courts is only 31 percent; according to GLOBSEC Trends 2025, less than half of the Slovak population would be willing to defend the country. The problem is not the absence of laws or institutions, but the absence of a culture that regards resilience as a civic responsibility.

For Germany, this analysis presents a dual challenge. On the one hand, Chancellor Olaf Scholz's Zeitenwende policy has initiated a historic turnaround in German defense policy: the 100 billion euro special fund, the commitment to the 2 percent target, and the willingness to provide substantial arms deliveries to Ukraine mark a paradigm shift. On the other hand, experiences from Italy and other member states show that money alone is not enough.

Germany shares with Italy and other Western European states a post-war history that has led to a deep gap between the armed forces and society. Although the Bundeswehr has gained profile through foreign deployments over the past two decades, military knowledge in academia, politics, and the public remains limited. An honest, de-ideologized debate about the purpose of the armed forces—namely, to fight in case of emergency—barely takes place.

If NATO and the EU want to encourage their members to achieve real capability increases, they must think beyond mere spending quotas. Three approaches appear promising:

First: Promoting a societal debate about defense that does not sugarcoat but speaks honestly about the function of armed forces. This debate must include academic circles and should not be limited to defense ministries. In Europe, the study of military issues and defense policy in academia is still marginal and often ideologically suspect.

Second: Creating or strengthening regionally anchored reserve forces. While the impact of general conscription on the civil-military gap remains disputed, voluntary reserve models—such as those practiced in Finland—could establish a more direct contact between the population and the armed forces without triggering massive societal upheavals.

Third: Developing European benchmarks that measure not only spending but also societal coordination capability. NATO has revised its resilience criteria following the Russian invasion of Ukraine; the EU should introduce metrics that capture cross-sector exercises, public-private coordination mechanisms, and the public's awareness of defense responsibility.

The European Commission has taken initial steps with its Preparedness Union Strategy announced in March 2025. The strategy explicitly refers to comprehensive societal approaches and plans pilot programs for defense courses modeled after Finland in five member states by Q3 2026. However, institutional interest alone will not bring about systemic change.

The central challenge remains cultural: Most European societies still treat security as a service provided by professional forces, not as a collective obligation. This paradigm collapses under threats that do not distinguish between war and peace, foreign and domestic, military and civilian.

For European defense integration, this means: Without narrowing the civil-military gap, higher defense spending in many member states will primarily flow into politically opportune but militarily irrelevant areas. Italy has shown how a country can meet formal NATO goals without substantially strengthening its military capabilities. Other states will follow as long as societal pressure and political incentives point in this direction.

The question is not whether Europe's history is replicable—but whether Europe's democracies are ready to understand resilience as a collective task before the next crisis forces them to do so. Finland shows what success looks like. The Preparedness Union Strategy gives Brussels an ambitious timeline. What is missing is the political will to adapt concrete tools—not just to admire them.

The debate over Trump's 5 percent demand should therefore not drive Europe into a defensive justification logic but serve as an opportunity to honestly address its own structural deficits. Higher spending is necessary but not sufficient. Without a realignment of the relationship between armed forces and society, Europe will continue to invest billions in defense—and yet remain vulnerable.