Russia’s War in Ukraine

Understanding the conflict four years on.

Europe is preparing for its future security with little or no help from the United States. And in many such scenarios that European planners are now gaming out, Ukraine emerges as the linchpin of the continent’s defense. The weaker Washington’s security guarantee becomes, the more Europe needs Kyiv. Soon, Europeans will have to confront an entirely new burden-sharing question: What must they offer Ukraine for its help shielding Europe from Russia?

Until recently, European leaders could barely disguise their dread at the prospect of another acrimonious NATO summit, set to take place in Ankara in early July. The wounds are still raw from recent trans-Atlantic fights—including over U.S. President Donald Trump’s tariffs, his attempts to coerce Denmark to hand over Greenland, and recent U.S. troops withdrawals from Europe. Trump’s war against Iran and his accusations that European allies were insufficiently supportive of their principal security guarantor added to these wounds. This month, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio ominously warned: “I think the next meeting of NATO … ​is probably the most important meeting in NATO’s history because there are some things ​here that need ⁠to be cleared up and fixed.”

Europe is preparing for its future security with little or no help from the United States. And in many such scenarios that European planners are now gaming out, Ukraine emerges as the linchpin of the continent’s defense. The weaker Washington’s security guarantee becomes, the more Europe needs Kyiv. Soon, Europeans will have to confront an entirely new burden-sharing question: What must they offer Ukraine for its help shielding Europe from Russia?

Until recently, European leaders could barely disguise their dread at the prospect of another acrimonious NATO summit, set to take place in Ankara in early July. The wounds are still raw from recent trans-Atlantic fights—including over U.S. President Donald Trump’s tariffs, his attempts to coerce Denmark to hand over Greenland, and recent U.S. troops withdrawals from Europe. Trump’s war against Iran and his accusations that European allies were insufficiently supportive of their principal security guarantor added to these wounds. This month, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio ominously warned: “I think the next meeting of NATO … ​is probably the most important meeting in NATO’s history because there are some things ​here that need ⁠to be cleared up and fixed.”

U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio speaks at the NATO foreign ministers’ meeting in Helsingborg, Sweden, on May 22.Jonathan Nackstrand/AFP via Getty Images

Concerns about a fracas at next month’s summit have subsided somewhat. The apparent U.S.-Iran cease-fire deal, the announced reopening of the Strait of Hormuz, and Europe’s offer to help police the strait once a final peace agreement is reached have lowered the temperature. The friendly tone of this month’s G-7 summit in France, where Trump seemed on his best behavior, was another welcome sign. Cue the longtime trans-Atlanticists, who will surely argue that this proves the enduring resilience of the U.S.-Europe partnership—and that another near-death experience for NATO has been averted.

Such thinking, however, misses how rapidly European views of the trans-Atlantic alliance are changing. To the continent’s policymakers, NATO resembles Schrödinger’s fabled cat—simultaneously alive and dead. They treat the alliance as alive in the sense that they still do and say all........

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