Europe Makes Big Statements Because It Has Small Armies:
a high-expression / low output equilibrium
France, Germany, and the UK jointly presented a ceasefire ultimatum in Ukraine. It didn’t work. Putin brushed it off as if it had been nothing. That moment was something we’ve seen repeatedly throughout the war: the gap between Europe’s rhetorical posturing and its actual capacity to act. They show up in the headlines, meeting with leaders, issuing statements, giving aid, condemning Russia. But when you look at the numbers, their contributions are little. It’s more bark than bite— and it exposes just how hollow European ‘prestige’ has become on the global stage.
All along this war, there have been endless ‘turning points.’ Moments of supposed European awakening. Grand statements from leaders casting themselves as heirs to Churchill or De Gaulle, rediscovering purpose, reclaiming weight. UK Prime Ministers have loved to position Britain as leading the charge. And sure, the UK acted early. But there are problems: its industrial base far too small to sustain serious military aid; the British Army has shrunk to the smallest its been in modern history; and stockpiles are seriously depleted.
Then there’s Macron, president of what is arguably Europe’s strongest military. He floated the idea of sending European troops to Ukraine— and was met with pushback from NATO and skepticism at home. Germany’s famous Zeitenwende, its supposed military reawakening, promised €100 billion — over five years. It’s not nearly enough to undo decades of underinvestment. German artillery? still just 4% of Cold War levels.
So when the trio called for a ceasefire last week, it landed with a squeak. Why bother?
What Europe excels at is signaling. In the foggy world of media and diplomacy, it’s often enough to create the impression of action. You say something, issue a press release, make a moral stand — and it doesn’t matter whether it does anything. Zero marginal cost. Zero marginal benefit. But the reputational rewards are real. You signal morality, intelligence, and loyalty to the cause — you’re applauded, politically and socially, without delivering anything real.
Macron’s little intervention at the Vatican.
The hard reality of the war is that it is underwritten by the United States. Financially, the US has provided 43% of Ukraine’s support. Militarily, Ukraine would not last without it. The US has 1.3 million active-duty troops, with vast reserves. France, Germany, and the UK together field fewer than 600,000. Their combined military spending is only about a quarter of America’s. The US: 11 aircraft carriers. France and the UK each have one. Both have nuclear weapons — but nowhere near America’s arsenal. And crucially, the US has a single commander-in-chief. The others have three.
This is what Mark Eyskens — former Belgian prime minister — meant when he said: “Europe is an economic giant, a political dwarf, and a military worm.”
This has been the same arrangement of things since 1945. Europe’s empires collapsed with the Second World War. The Suez Crisis in 1956 made this obvious. Britain, France, and Israel invaded Egypt— and had to withdraw the moment the US said no. Since then, Europe power has been dependent on US support. And today, Europe seems to America more like Greece was to Rome: former empires turned cultural treasures, living richly under the protection of the superpower.
What remains is prestige— but prestige without power is a funny thing. As Europe’s capacity has withered, it has compensated with performance. Lacking hard military, economic, or institutional weight, it’s leaders turn to cheaper substitutes of influence. It’s resource substitution really: limited by high costs of inputs (force/money) nations rely more on low cost substitutions (statements/resolutions). Less tanks, more screech. And the louder the noise, the more obvious the power vacuum.
Don’t voters notice? Isn’t it obviously hollow? Actually, no. Societies can convince themselves. The rewards of moral superiority are high, the costs of disillusionment are steeper. Institutions — media, NGOs, government— that lack the tools to change things also become more invested in rewarding those who perform like they do. Politicians get votes. Newspapers get clicks. Voters feel proud. And the feedback loop sets in.
Lack of hard power
Increase symbolic action
External validation
Reduced pressure to grow hard power
Institutional drift into performance
The result is a high-expression/low-output equilibrium. European diplomacy becomes an opera of declarations, unable to shape outcomes even in its own garden. The real negotiations are between Trump and Putin. Europe can talk all it wants — but in the end, it doesn’t have the arms, the unity, or the leverage to matter. A big mouth with a little stick.
Photo: The leaders of Britain, France, and Germany on a train to Kiev to discuss with Zelensky.
Always a pleasure to read your posts, Hugh, even when it hurts (an European like me…). Still, to tame my pain, let me share my hopes that necessity may change this sad state of things. One side of the problem is of course the fragmented leadership. But is also the absence of need. USA was there, the world was getting better every year, a Fukuyama kind of feeling prevailed (for too long). Now the combined menaces of Imperial Russia and Trump may, hopefully, become a awake call. I even resorted to AI (Copilot) for console, asking “were US army forces any good before WW II (their moment of need, pulling the nation out of isolationism) and guess what I found: in 1939 the US armed forces were smaller then Portugal’s (a fascist regime, by then…). WW II was US moment of need. Hope the current geopolitical storm wakes up Europe.
Great Article Hugh!