Domènec Ruiz Devesa is a senior researcher at Barcelona Centre for International Affairs and a former member of the European Parliament. Emiliano Alessandri is an affiliated researcher at Austrian Institute for International Affairs.

When NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte told the European Parliament the continent can’t defend itself without the U.S., and that those who think otherwise should “keep dreaming,” he did more than just describe Europe’s military dependence — he turned that dependence into a political doctrine. He also positioned himself not so much as the head of an alliance of would-be equals but as the spokesperson of Europe’s strategic resignation.

Rutte’s view of European defense follows a familiar but increasingly untenable logic: Nuclear deterrence equals U.S. protection; U.S. protection equals European security; therefore, European strategic sovereignty is an illusion.

But this chain of reasoning is far more fragile than it sounds.

First of all, even though Europe’s overall strategic stability does depend on nuclear deterrence, most real-world security challenges in the Euro-Atlantic space — from hybrid operations to limited conventional scenarios — have and will continue to develop well below the nuclear threshold.

This is something NATO’s own deterrence posture recognizes. And overstating the nuclear dimension risks overlooking the decisive importance of conventional mass, resilience, logistics, high-quality intelligence, air defense and industrial depth — areas where Europe is weak by political choice.

Moreover, the nuclear debate in Europe isn’t binary. The continent isn’t condemned to choose between total dependence on the U.S. umbrella and total vulnerability.

A serious discussion regarding the role of the French and British deterrents within a European framework — politically complex, yes, but strategically conceivable — is no longer taboo. And by pointing at the prohibitively high cost of developing a European nuclear force from scratch, Rutte’s sweeping dismissal of Europe’s strategic agency in the nuclear field sidesteps this evolution instead of engaging with it.

Plus, the NATO chief is being too hasty in his dismissal of the increasingly accepted notion of a “European pillar” within NATO. Sure, the EU added value is, at present, best exemplified in the creation of a more integrated and dynamic European defense market, which the European Commission is actively fostering. But Rutte is underestimating existing European military capabilities.

European countries already collectively field advanced air forces, world-class submarines, significant naval power, cutting-edge missile and air-defense systems, cyber expertise, space assets and one of the largest defense-industrial bases in the world. And when it comes to the defense of Ukraine, European allies — including France — have significantly expanded their intelligence contributions.

The problem, therefore, isn’t so much scarcity but national and industrial fragmentation, coupled with the risk of technological stagnation and insufficient investment in key enablers like munitions production, military mobility, intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance, satellites, air-to-air refueling and integrated command structures.

As demonstrated by satellite projects like the EU’s Governmental Satellite Communications and IRIS² Satellite Constellation, these are areas that can be improved in the space of months and years rather than decades. But telling Europeans that sovereignty is a fantasy can easily kill the political momentum needed to fix them.

Finally, Rutte’s message is oddly out of sync with Washington too.

U.S. presidents have long demanded Europe take far greater responsibility for its own defense, and in his second term, U.S. President Donald Trump has taken this message to new heights, from burden-sharing to burden-shifting. But to simultaneously tell Europe it must take care of itself, provided it continues purchasing U.S.-manufactured weapons, and that it can never truly succeed isn’t strategic clarity, it’s cognitive dissonance.

Europe can no longer ignore political reality. Regardless of what one may think of Trump and his disruptive politics, the direction of travel in U.S. foreign policy is unmistakable: Europe is no longer a priority. The center of U.S. strategic gravity now lies in the Indo-Pacific, and U.S. dominance in the Western hemisphere ranks higher than Europe’s defense.

In this mutated context, placing all of Europe’s security eggs in the U.S. basket isn’t sensible.

However, none of this means Europe abandoning NATO or actively severing transatlantic ties. Rather, it means recognizing that alliances between equals are stronger than those built on dependence. A Europe that can militarily, industrially and politically rely on itself makes a more credible and valuable ally. And the 80-year transatlantic alliance will only endure if the U.S. and Europe strike a new bargain.

So, as transatlantic allies grapple with a less straightforward alignment of interests and values, Rutte needs to be promoting a more balanced NATO with a strong European pillar — not undermining it.