INTERNATIONALE POLITIK QUARTERLY

In late June, the Indian Navy and ThyssenKrupp Marine Systems (TKMS) finished negotiating the price of the largest defense contract India has ever written: roughly €8 billionfor six submarines to be built in Mumbai. The money is agreed. The design is chosen. All that stands in the way of the signature, expected by September, is a technical review of a single question: Is the technology Germany is offering to hand over extensive enough to justify the price?

When Europe wants to be politically successful, it thinks it must be harsh to migrants. That impression could be gained by anyone who has closely followed how the European Commission in Brussels and key European Union member states have repeatedly pushed plans for a stricter immigration policy. Although the number of “irregular” arrivals in 2025 fell by 35 percent compared to the previous year, additional measures are now intended to sharpen the EU Migration and Asylum Pact.

In early February, Liana Fix, a German political scientist based in Washington who works for the Council on Foreign Relations, reignited an old European debate with her essay on the “German question” published in Foreign Affairs. The expert on European security and transatlantic relations warned that Berlin’s new aspiration to leadership in matters of security policy must be explained and embedded within the European context.

Everything was supposed to get better: The day after his election as German chancellor, Friedrich Merz boarded a plane to Paris, and later to Warsaw. The message was clear: Germany is back on the European stage and wants to improve relations with its key European Union partners.

Germany’s loss to Portugal and Austria in early June was its first-ever defeat in an attempt to earn a two-year term on the United Nations Security Council (UNSC). The result is notable because for more than two decades Germany—along with its partner countries Japan, India, and Brazil in the “G4”—has argued that it deserves a permanent seat on the UNSC similar to the permanent members: the United States, China, Russia, France, and the United Kingdom, also known as the P5.

It’s entirely a cliché to say that the world is at an inflection point. Far too many moments that seem historically significant pale in eventual memory, while the significance of others may not be fully recognized at the time.

For much of the post-Cold War era, the United Kingdom viewed Germany as Europe’s indispensable economic power, yet its geopolitical choices were often regarded as inconsistent and defined by strategic caution. Berlin was respected for its industrial strength and fiscal discipline, while simultaneously criticized for its military underinvestment, and an enduring reluctance to wield power in security affairs.

For much of the past decade, Berlin has been a convenient whipping boy for its failure to spend enough on defense, especially when contrasted with Warsaw, the poster child of European rearmament, spending a larger share of GDP on defense that even the United States. This division of roles suited both sides—Germany economically, Poland politically—but it has begun to shift since Chancellor Friedrich Merz took office.

Europeans are in the process of a reorientation. The transatlantic security order built after World War II is weakened by late-night TruthSocial posts from US President Donald Trump. The Euro-Atlantic economic space, the most deeply integrated in the world, is destabilized by chaotic US tariff threats. This, above all, has led the European Union to started thinking about how it wants to position itself in this new, more unstable world. One element is a new European security strategy.

It has become something of a habit: In February, French President Emmanuel Macron called for “future-oriented eurobonds” in an interview with six European newspapers, arguing that the European Union is “under-indebted compared with the United States and China.” Within hours, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz shot down the idea.