While 1930 was seen as the strangest year of the 20th century—coming right after the Great Crash—2025 may well be remembered as the year when almost everyone attempted to avoid the unfolding disaster. By 2026, the Trump administration’s efforts to pressure Venezuela, abduct its president, and acquire Greenland can no longer be considered a private matter of the Western Hemisphere.
Not only has this agitation become widely feared, but it is also a major concern for all foreign powers and may prove disastrous. The glassy constructs of mutual assurance are cracking, and the balance of power that it holds in place will be forever altered.
The present general rivalry is not only between the United States and China but also between two versions of the West (the United States and Europe). It has reached European shores, where the stakes include the United States detaching itself from NATO and possibly threatening the European Union’s existence.
NATO, the transatlantic alliance established in 1949 during the Cold War, suddenly appears anachronistic. Why invest blood and resources to protect Baltic borders or Ukrainian independence when the actual threats come from southward migration waves or economic challenges in Latin America?
The United States now seeks some leeway, citing fiscal burdens and strategic overextension. Beginning with reduced troop deployments, the detachment would extend to the upper echelons of allied solidarity: command structures, joint exercises, and shared intelligence networks.
As bonds weaken, the conflict can only intensify: with France and Germany pushing for a more independent European army, it will also reveal the divisions within the EU.
The European Union remains the most vulnerable part of the system, especially after the 2026 National Defense Strategy (NDS) suggested that Europe should not aspire to be a global power and that its efforts and resources should be best focused on the continent. Beyond Brexit’s effects and the increasing populist divisions in Hungary and Italy, the EU’s stability is at risk from the Monroe Doctrine undermining its NATO security architecture.
Transatlantic trade agreements are already strained as the United States focuses on hemispheric alliances, possibly revitalizing the Organization of American States to challenge Chinese influence in Venezuela or Brazil.
European exports are likely to encounter additional retaliatory tariffs. Meanwhile, southern European countries are exploring Mediterranean agreements, while northern nations favor Nordic-Baltic coalitions, which may in time threaten the unity of the single market.
Under what conditions, then, can a detached United States catalyze a stronger, more self-reliant Europe?
Europe possesses the tools but lacks the will.
First, it must accept that it needs its own version of the Monroe Doctrine—one that clearly delineates its sphere of influence, covering the EU member states, associated territories such as Greenland, the Overseas Countries and Territories, and likely also the Western Balkans and the Eastern Partnership countries.
Second, NATO’s remaining elements after a potential US withdrawal could be absorbed into a new framework under the Common Security and Common Policy to produce a revitalized European defense union. Time will tell whether the search for de-risking can proceed without overreliance on Washington, potentially creating a hybrid model in which Europe addresses territorial threats autonomously.
The risk is that a slow disintegration could spawn a patchwork of mini-alliances—a Visegrad bloc here, a Franco-German axis there—each vulnerable to external powers. When alliances erode too quickly, as they did during the interwar period of isolationism, the risk of major war in Europe increases.
Third, Europe must demonstrate unity through collective resolve, as it did when it imposed sanctions on Russia following the 2014 annexation of Crimea. For that to succeed, Europe must go beyond its divisions and divergent threat perceptions and foster a European army as proposed by French president Emmanuel Macron.
Fourth, Europe must account for broader geopolitical shifts and leverage its economic power to counter the United States and China.
A Monroe-like declaration would strengthen Europe’s negotiating position, enabling a coordinated response through measures such as the EU’s Anti-Coercion tool or reciprocal tariffs. This approach could help deter future extraterritorial sanctions by the United States, such as those imposed on European companies engaging with Iran or Russia, and safeguard critical industries, including digital technology and defense.
Regarding China, the doctrine would address Europe’s critical dependence on rare earth elements and manufactured goods. Europe can achieve reciprocity by banning coercive tools or state-funded capacity in sectors such as electric vehicles and solar. This can be done through measures such as the Foreign Subsidies Regulation and the Carbon Border Adjustment mechanism.
As discussions continue—on Arctic access, defense timelines, and broader strategic alignment—the outcome will hinge on sustained diplomacy and mutual adaptation.
If the Greenland crisis worsens again, the most likely outcome is a semi-autonomous Europe, capable of handling regional crises but still reliant on the United States for limited support, including in Ukraine’s defense, to address major threats to its existence. This hybrid approach might, in the long term, strengthen the transatlantic bond anew, paradoxically, by distributing burdens more evenly.
In a darker scenario, Europe must declare and defend its own destiny. It requires not only a change in tone and style, as advocated by the American 2026 NDS, but also a decisive embrace of the hard realities of assuming primary responsibility for defense spending and capability buildup. A European Monroe Doctrine would bring defensive realism to Europe’s global pole position. Without it, the continent risks becoming a pawn in conflicts waged by others.