Europe is not endangered by its enemies. It is endangered by the inertia of its friends.
The European Union is at an existential turning point. Not merely a difficult period or just another crisis, but a decisive moment in which its future is no longer a given. For the first time since the Cold War, the very idea of Europe—not as a geographical space but as a political and historical project—is under the microscope of doubt.
Sadly, the European dream is fading. It bears little resemblance to the founders’ vision of a united Europe.
Those of us who experienced the Europe of hope and collective progress now see a mechanism that is out of breath—a union without élan, imagination, or leadership. The European apparatus is sliding into technocratic navel-gazing while the world around it shifts at the speed of a geopolitical earthquake.
In truth, Europe did not become a superpower. It became a wealthy island, adrift amid oceans of competitors.
I had the honor to serve in one of the last Commissions that operated with political instinct, unity, and strategic intent. Under Jean-Claude Juncker, the European Commission functioned as a political body, not merely an administrative structure. Today I see leaders looking inward, fearing the cost of decisions, and forgetting their geopolitical responsibility.
Today’s leaders have forgotten how Europe was built—and worse, they have stopped feeling it as their own cause.
And yet the problem is not external. It is not Russia, China, or even a more distant America. The problem lies within: the self-disengagement of national leaderships from the European vision.
For some time there has been much talk of “European independence,” an extension of “strategic autonomy.”
But the absence of a common foreign and defense policy is not a technical flaw; it is political timidity. What is the point of spending €800 billion on defense if each state continues down its own national path? That is not strategy; it is costly fragmentation.
If we want the Europe of 2040 to be a global, resilient, and free power, three things are needed: political integration, strategic boldness, and a return to our foundational values. If we invest in defense without unity, the only thing we will strengthen is social division—and the populists lying in wait.
When, in 2015, I was called upon to manage Europe’s most challenging portfolio—migration, security, and counter-terrorism—I realized something deeper: the problem was not a lack of expertise; it was a lack of will. Member states did not want to share responsibility—or information. There was no solidarity. There was no empathy. There was only national egoism. The enemy did not come from outside; we carried it within.
History has already warned us. After the 1929 crash, when systems turned inward, the vacuum was filled by nationalism and authoritarianism. Weimar did not fall to an external attack; it collapsed under the disappointment of its own citizens. And today, regrettably, the conditions are reappearing.
Nationalism and populism are the most dangerous mixture in European history—and we see it swelling again.
If we want the Europe of 2040 to be a global, resilient, and free power, three things are needed: political integration, strategic boldness, and a return to our foundational values. Not merely new policies, but a new political ethos.
Either we will save Europe with boldness, or we will watch its disintegration in silence.
I harbor no illusions: inertia will not be broken easily. Only a deeper crisis may awaken consciences. But a leader is not one who waits for the crisis to act; a leader sees it coming and mobilizes the future before the past devours it.
Europe still has time—but not for long.