The United States and Trump Are Undermining Their Historic Alliance with Europe
By refusing to take responsibility, the U.S. is putting even its own citizens at risk
Let me begin with a bold statement, uncomfortable perhaps but necessary:
Things are not going well—neither in the United States nor in Europe.
And it’s not just a Western issue: globally, the situation is rapidly deteriorating.
In just a few years, we’ve witnessed the return of war to the heart of Europe—a continent that hadn’t seen a conflict of this scale since 1945.
In the Middle East, tensions are escalating:
after the October 7 attacks, war has engulfed Palestine, Lebanon, Syria, and recently, even Iran.
But it doesn’t stop there.
On the other side of the world, in Asia, a potentially even greater threat is looming: China.
We Europeans tend to forget that.
It’s a distant giant—out of sight, out of mind.
We prefer to focus on the enemy at our doorstep: Russia.
And yet, China represents a broader, quieter, and more systemic threat.
And through all this, the United States appears to be asleep at the wheel.
Drowsy. Passive.
As if waiting for something even worse to happen.
They fail to support their allies when they should, and in doing so, they leave room for adversaries to grow stronger, gain confidence, and strike.
Yes, tensions are high in Europe.
But do you know who truly risks paying the highest price in the long run?
The Europeans?
The Israelis?
The Japanese?
No.
We Europeans, a few years from now, might turn our backs on Washington.
We might side with China—open our economies to its influence, welcome its military bases, sign commercial, strategic, and technological deals.
In some ways, Japan and South Korea are already moving in that direction.
They feel betrayed by the United States.
And we Europeans? We’re not an empire.
We have nothing to lose.
All it takes is switching jerseys. Choosing a different partner.
But there’s one country—only one—that has everything to lose.
The United States. And its people.
If the American empire were to fall, it’s they who would pay the steepest price.
They would find themselves isolated, exposed, surrounded by hostile powers.
Meanwhile, as I write—and you read—
Donald Trump continues to make empty calls to Putin, allows China to advance unchecked, and lets Iran develop its nuclear arsenal.
All of this is happening at the expense of the American people.
Let’s take a closer look at this crisis.
Today’s topic is a sensitive one—and I’m approaching it from my own point of view: that of a European.
More precisely, an Italian.
I hope to offer you a different perspective—perhaps an uncomfortable one, but a thought-provoking one.
A read that makes you think.
Subscription is free.
I’ll be waiting.
European Countries Are Vassal States of the U.S.: The Illusion of an Alliance
If you, the reader, are European, chances are you've heard at least once in your life that ”the United States is our greatest ally.”
And if you're American, it's likely you've also described Europeans as your long-standing allies.
Or, at times, as well-dressed freeloaders.
Well, nothing could be further from the truth.
Absolutely nothing.
We Italians—like most Europeans—have lived for decades alongside U.S. or NATO military installations.
I myself live in an area that hosts three American bases.
Truth be told, their presence barely bothers anyone.
In fact, I personally find their proximity almost reassuring.
I value the current world order.
And I’m deeply grateful to be living in this part of the world.
Still—this is not a partnership of equals.
Have you ever wondered how many European military bases are located on U.S. soil?
Exactly. None.
Formally, European countries are free and sovereign nations.
But the truth is more nuanced.
Ours are limited-sovereignty democracies.
We host foreign military bases.
We’re bound to an alliance system that, in practice, shapes our strategic, economic, and political decisions.
We are vassals of the United States of America.
Just like Japan, South Korea, or Israel.
After World War II, Washington extended its protective umbrella over the West—and beyond, and we made ourselves comfortable beneath it.
For many decades, this arrangement worked.
It brought real benefits to both sides.
The United States expanded its global influence, securing key regions, controlling strategic choke points like the Strait of Gibraltar, and gaining the loyalty of dependable allies.
In return, we Europeans dramatically improved our quality of life.
We gained access to civil and political rights previously unknown to us: freedom of speech, free enterprise, liberal democracy.
As an Italian, I know exactly what that means.
After two decades of fascist rule, we can say without exaggeration that freedom of expression was literally “imported” to us by the United States.
And this isn’t just about Europe.
The same is true for Canada, Japan, South Korea, and Israel.
All of them, over time, integrated into the American system, willingly—or not—ceding pieces of their independence.
Over the past eighty years, while we spoke of “alliance,” what truly developed was a relationship of mutual dependency.
The U.S. poured wealth, culture, and rights into our nations.
And we Europeans—seduced by that way of life— accepted their military presence, relinquishing part of our national sovereignty.
Without resistance.
Often with enthusiasm.
During my academic years, I debated this topic with students from the left—even the far-left.
Many of them view the American presence in Europe with suspicion, if not outright hostility.
I can understand their position, though I don’t share it.
Because I believe that, thanks to the United States, Europe has experienced an era of prosperity and stability unlike anything in its history.
And I’m fully aware—and even grateful—to be part of a vassal state.
Yes, a vassal.
Because what’s the alternative?
Becoming like Belarus or Mongolia? Vassals of Russia or China?
Or worse: being completely “independent”, like Pakistan or Iran?
No, thank you.
I’d much rather live twenty minutes from a U.S. base, with access to cutting-edge technology, every civil liberty, and a Western lifestyle that most of the world can only dream of.
The First Cracks Begin to Show
As we know, nothing in this world is truly free.
The price we Europeans pay is not being completely free.
A partial, conditional, negotiated independence.
But the Americans also pay their price:
it falls on them to keep alive this grand illusion, this diplomatic theater called “alliance.”
Yes, that farce of “allies who defend each other.”
Remember the slogan?
“Our greatest allies.”
The Cold War was the opening act of this performance.
The Iron Curtain was firmly guarded by American forces.
Then, with the collapse of the Soviet Union, the United States replicated its model in Eastern Europe: Romania, Poland, the Baltic States...
And it worked perfectly.
Europe expanded. The U.S. tightened its grip.
The new members grew richer and, in return, welcomed American influence as a gift.
Then came the wars in the Middle East.
This time, the United States found itself in trouble.
And it was up to us Europeans to send troops, equipment, resources.
We counted our dead.
We suffered losses in Iraq and Afghanistan.
But—as we know—every alliance has its price.
And so, the farce went on.
For eighty years.
And it worked.
Take the Koreans, for example.
In the summer of 1950, North Korea invaded the South.
The Americans intervened decisively, repelled the invasion, protected democracy.
In exchange, South Koreans accepted the American military presence.
Today, South Korea is one of the most dynamic economies in the world.
Everyone gained.
Everyone was—apparently—happy.
But if we’re talking about it today, perhaps something is no longer working.
Let’s return briefly to Romania.
Once a Soviet satellite, just like Poland.
Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, on the other hand, weren’t just vassals: they were integral parts of the USSR, like Ukraine.
Over the years, the European Union and the United States gradually and patiently integrated these countries.
And they succeeded.
Then came Georgia and Ukraine.
And that’s where something broke.
Russia had had enough.
In 2008, it invaded Georgia.
In 2014, it annexed Crimea.
And when it realized the West had no intention of letting go, it chose all-out war in 2022.
But beware: today’s conflict isn’t about territory.
It’s a war against a hegemonic power—the United States—that continues to expand its influence.
And we, as Westerners, are right to expand, to defend freedom, democracy, the West.
But if Russia disagrees, what do we do?
It intervenes. And we are forced to decide:
Do we really want to defend our allies to the bitter end, showing strength, resolve, determination?
Or do we drop the mask and admit with an embarrassed smile that we’re not a superpower, but a geopolitical joke?
Here we are.
More than three and a half years since the Russian invasion began, it’s still unclear which path we’ve chosen.
We Europeans are still caught in the myth of the Atlantic alliance.
But our ally is nowhere to be found.
Day after day, we wait.
We wait for the Russians to make a mistake—for their gamble to fall flat.
Because this is a high-stakes poker game.
Russia has gone all in and said, “I call.”
Just like in poker, it wants to find out if the Emperor has no clothes.
If the United States is still the global superpower, or just a shadow of its former self.
And us?
We wait.
We—the Koreans, the Canadians, the Israelis.
All satellites of this world order.
We wait to see if we can still trust our greatest ally, or if the farce is over.
In Asia, the Koreans and Japanese are cautiously inching closer to China.
We Europeans, on the other hand, are still in denial.
Eyes closed, heart clenched.
Hoping the monster will disappear on its own.
Like in a bad dream.
Meanwhile, talk of strategic autonomy is beginning.
Yes, we must spend more, we must arm ourselves, but we will no longer buy American weapons.
We have the industries, we have the minds.
We want to grow up. Become adults. Defend ourselves.
And the Americans?
For at least ten years, they’ve been asking us to emancipate ourselves.
But now, let me speak plainly:
Do you really want us to become independent?
Do you really want us to lose the one thing that makes us your vassals?
Be careful.
Because if a blind man regains his sight, the first thing he frees himself from is his cane.