Despite Munich smiles, Greenland shock hasn’t catalysed European defence collaboration

MUNICH – When Dr Wolfgang Ischinger, the president of the Munich Security Conference, spoke of a “sigh of relief” that swept through the hall after US Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s speech, he may well have been carried away by the emotion of the moment.

While Mr Rubio’s speech on Feb 14 might not have been the overt broadside against Europe that US Vice-President J.D. Vance delivered in Munich a year ago, its substance still exposed the profound fracture between the two continents.

His message focused on national rather than global interests, the perceived failure of the rules-based order and a harsh indictment of globalisation and its subsequent deindustrialisation. The West, he said, had collectively embarked on the wrong path after the fall of the Berlin Wall. For the past year, the US has set about correcting that mistake.

Those listening in the main hall of Hotel Bayerischer Hof in Munich may, at that moment, have mentally added a postscript to Mr Rubio’s words: anyone who does not follow this path is no longer a friend of the US.

Mr Rubio did not utter a single word about the ongoing assault on what were once transatlantic values, to which the alliance has been subjected since

US President Donald Trump took office.

The damage to the alliance forged shortly after the end of World War II reached a provisional low point only a few weeks ago, when Mr Trump scarcely concealed his threat to use force against another NATO member state.

Only after substantial pushback from both European leaders and figures within his own ranks – not least from the US military – did Mr Trump reverse course, pledging at the Davos conference in January that he would not use force or tariffs to seize Greenland. But he has not fully withdrawn what many describe as a “coercive demand” for ownership of Greenland, an autonomous territory of Denmark.

The Greenland shock still runs deep and continues to dominate conversations in the corridors of the Bayerischer Hof after Mr Rubio’s speech.

With an aggressive Russia in the east, an ever more assertive China and a US that is no longer reliable and is gradually turning away from democratic values, Europe not only has fewer and fewer allies, but also is as directly threatened as it has been for 80 years.

“The international order based on rights and rules no longer exists in the same way,” said German Chancellor Friedrich Merz in his opening address. As a result, he added: “We are breathing new life into our defence industry.”

But can Europe’s defence industry actually deliver what is now required?

In June 2025, NATO members agreed to spend 5 per cent of their gross domestic product on defence by 2035 – 3.5 per cent directly on armaments and 1.5 per cent on security-related infrastructure. That represents a significant increase compared with previous decades, when only 2 per cent was spent and often not even that. In absolute terms, this amounts to €831 billion (S$1.25 trillion) in additional funds to be made available for defence.

Germany alone has, since the outbreak of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine four years ago, launched several special funding packages worth hundreds of billions of euros, earmarked for rearmament. The money is therefore available – but to whom will it go?

Since the conclusion of a major consolidation process in the defence industry in the 1990s, five American defence giants have dominated the sector: RTX, Lockheed Martin, Boeing, General Dynamics and Northrop Grumman. There are also significant Chinese and Russian suppliers.

Among the world’s top 20 defence companies, only five are European: BAE Systems, Leonardo, Airbus, Thales and Rheinmetall.

German defence manufacturers, though, are expanding their capacities. Not only is market leader Rheinmetall growing rapidly, but other companies, such as KMW, Hensoldt, Renk, Diehl and drone producers like Helsing and Quantum-Systems, are also increasing output.

But the European defence industry remains highly fragmented, and a patchwork of national interests that continues to hamper decision-making and large-scale production.

All the more reason, then, for German and French defence companies to work closely together.

Yet, talks between Airbus and the French company Dassault on developing a joint fighter jet within the Future Combat Air System project appear to have hit a stalemate, with the French insisting on taking the lead role. The new jet is intended to replace the ageing Eurofighter Typhoon and Dassault Rafale. But that objective now hangs in the balance.

“It would be a fatal signal if the two largest European countries were unable to reach an agreement,” former four-star NATO general Erhard Buhler said in an interview with The Straits Times.

At the same time, it is clear that Europe can, at best, only gradually disentangle itself from dependence on American defence equipment. The most salient example is the 35 Lockheed Martin F-35 fighter jets already procured by Germany from the US, which are also capable of carrying American nuclear weapons.

Critics argue that without regular software updates from the US, the jets would not be fully operational. Given the dramatic erosion of the transatlantic alliance, they say, it is no longer responsible to rely on the US.

Yet cancelling the order, worth up to €10 billion, could be interpreted as signalling that Germany is no longer fundamentally interested in nuclear defence provided by the US. The F-35 aircraft are certified to carry the US B61 nuclear bombs stationed in Germany. They are set to replace the Tornado fleet, which has been in service for more than four decades.

And then what? Could Germany simply shelter under the nuclear umbrella of France or Britain? Mr Buhler doubts this: “Both countries possess nuclear weapons that are not tailored to Germany’s requirements.”

Above all, that means too few weapons and ranges that are too limited.

But how does one convince a former protecting power that the alliance is not a one-way street, but one that serves American interests as well?

“NATO is not only our competitive advantage but (also), dear American friends, yours too,” said Mr Merz, pointedly speaking in English to ensure his intended audience takes note.

This is the overarching strategy of the conference: to demonstrate to a Washington that now views relationships in strictly transactional terms that Europe remains indispensable to the security of the US – be it by securing the transatlantic flank against Russia or by providing vital intelligence.

US military leaders well understand this reality. Although the Trump administration has already replaced some generals, the vast majority remain committed transatlanticists.

“NATO is not an act of American generosity. It is a strategic bargain that ensures the United States remains the world’s most powerful and economically secure nation at a fraction of the cost of going it alone,” argued 16 former US ambassadors to NATO and supreme allied commanders in a paper from the Belfer Center at Harvard Kennedy School.

When Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi took the stage immediately after Mr Rubio, invoking the virtues of a rules-based order, free trade and partnership over rivalry, he sounded almost like a European of the old school.

Yet, when pressed on specifics such as Beijing’s influence over Moscow to end the war in Ukraine, he remained resolutely non-committal. For Mr Wang, it is seemingly enough to stand by and watch as the West appears to dismantle itself.