Europe may be waiting for America to change its president. Instead it should be asking whether America has already changed its strategic assumptions.

That was one of my strongest impressions from this year’s Aspen Security Forum 2026. I went into the discussions expecting, as many Europeans probably did, to hear a great deal about the Trump administration and the profound disruption it has created in the transatlantic relationship. What struck me instead was something more subtle: how often people from very different parts of the American strategic community, including people who have little reason to be associated with the Trump administration, were describing the international environment through remarkably similar assumptions. The language was different, the political conclusions were often different, and there was certainly no uniform agreement about how American power should be exercised. Yet beneath those differences, the diagnosis of the strategic environment was surprisingly familiar.

That distinction matters because it is tempting, particularly in Europe, to interpret the current period primarily through the personality and politics of Donald Trump. If Trump is understood as the source of the disruption, then it becomes natural to assume that the departure of Trump will eventually bring a return to something resembling the old transatlantic relationship. Perhaps the rhetoric will become less confrontational, the diplomatic language more familiar, the commitment to multilateral institutions more visible and the relationship with European allies less transactional. All of those things may indeed happen. But they do not necessarily mean that the strategic assumptions underneath the relationship will return to what they were before.

The themes that kept returning

Across the conversations at Aspen, certain themes kept resurfacing: the need for greater allied burden-sharing, the importance of stronger European defence capabilities, the growing relationship between technology and national security, the need to rebuild industrial capacity, the vulnerability of critical supply chains, the strategic challenge posed by China and, underlying all of these issues, a recognition that the United States cannot indefinitely approach its role in the world as though its resources, attention and military capacity were unlimited.

None of these ideas began with Donald Trump, and none of them belong exclusively to one American political party. What is changing is the way in which these issues increasingly connect to one another. European defence is no longer simply a question of whether NATO allies spend enough; it is becoming part of a much broader American discussion about the distribution of global military responsibilities, the future of the transatlantic alliance, the demands of competition with China, the resilience of Western industrial capacity and the question of where American resources and strategic attention should be concentrated.

This is why I think Europe risks making a fundamental analytical mistake if it treats the current American debate as primarily a Trump phenomenon. Trump has undoubtedly accelerated the process, changed its tone and made many of its underlying tensions much more visible. But acceleration is not the same as causation.

Trump may be an expression of the shift, not its cause

One of the most revealing observations at Aspen came from Condoleezza Rice, who argued that Trump should be understood less as the origin of several of the changes we are witnessing than as an expression of longer-term trends in American politics and strategy. Mark Esper made a similar point when discussing European defence spending, reminding the audience that American frustration with European burden-sharing did not begin with the current administration and that the issue had been raised repeatedly by previous presidents, including Barack Obama.

That is worth pausing over, because it challenges a very convenient European narrative: Trump changed America, and when Trump leaves, America will change back.

What if the relationship is actually the other way around?

What if a number of underlying changes in the American strategic environment and in American public expectations were already taking place, and Trump became one political expression of those changes? If that is the case, then a future change of administration may alter the rhetoric, the diplomatic style and even individual policies without reversing the broader strategic reassessment that produced the political shift in the first place.

A future American president could be considerably more comfortable with European governments than President Trump has been. More supportive of traditional diplomatic institutions and much less confrontational in the way American concerns are communicated. Such a president could restore a sense of reassurance that many European leaders currently miss. But that same president could still believe that Europe needs to spend considerably more on defence, that European allies need to develop greater military capacity, that the United States cannot remain the primary security provider for Europe indefinitely and that American strategic attention must increasingly be directed towards the Indo-Pacific and the challenge posed by China.

Those positions are not inherently Trumpian.

They may simply be American.

Political rhetoric changes faster than strategic reality

This is where I think Europe needs to distinguish between political rhetoric and strategic direction.

Presidents change. Political coalitions change. Diplomatic styles change. The language used to describe allies changes, sometimes dramatically. Strategic realities tend to move more slowly.

The United States will still face questions about the sustainability of its global military commitments after Donald Trump leaves office. China will still be a technological, economic and military competitor. American policymakers will still have to consider the implications of finite resources and competing theatres. The relationship between economic security and national security is unlikely to disappear. Concerns about critical supply chains and industrial capacity are unlikely to suddenly become irrelevant. And the question of whether European allies are capable of carrying a larger share of the conventional defence burden will remain, regardless of which party controls the White House.

Indeed, developments within NATO itself suggest that some of these concerns are already becoming institutionalised. In July, NATO launched new initiatives intended to accelerate defence-industrial cooperation and connect European, American and Canadian industry more effectively, including the NATO Front Door for Industry and NATO Engine. The direction is clear: the Alliance needs greater industrial capacity and a much stronger ability to turn political commitments into actual military capability.

That is not simply a Trump-era talking point.

It is becoming institutional reality.

Europe may be confusing political change with strategic reversal

This is where I believe the European debate risks becoming trapped in the wrong time horizon.

There is a natural tendency to think of the current period as an interruption to the familiar transatlantic order: Trump arrives, the relationship becomes disruptive and transactional, Europe waits, and then a new administration eventually restores something closer to the previous equilibrium. But this assumes that the previous equilibrium is still available to return to.

Perhaps it is not.

Perhaps the more accurate sequence is not Trump → disruption → new president → return to normal, but rather structural change → changing American assumptions → political realignment → Trump as one expression of that change → further evolution under future administrations.

That is a very different story.

Europe may well get an American president who is easier to work with than Donald Trump. It may get a president who speaks more warmly about NATO, places greater emphasis on alliances and restores much of the diplomatic language that Europeans recognise from previous decades. But none of that guarantees a return to the old distribution of responsibilities.

The United States can remain deeply committed to NATO while expecting Europe to provide significantly more of its own military capability. It can remain committed to European allies while placing greater strategic weight on the Indo-Pacific. It can support transatlantic cooperation while insisting that Europe develop a stronger defence-industrial base. It can value the alliance while simultaneously believing that the United States should no longer be expected to solve every European security problem.

These positions are not contradictory.

They may increasingly be the new baseline.

The danger is not simply American disengagement

There is, however, another dimension to this story that I think is equally important, because the current administration's rhetoric can make it difficult for Europeans to hear the strategic argument underneath it.

Consider the difference between saying “Europe needs to become stronger” and saying “America is abandoning Europe.” The first is a strategic proposition; the second is a political interpretation. Yet if the second becomes the dominant European interpretation of the first, the relationship can enter a dangerous feedback loop in which both sides gradually begin to reinforce the other's fears.

Washington argues that Europe needs to take greater responsibility. Europe hears abandonment and begins to talk more urgently about strategic autonomy. Washington interprets that language as evidence that Europe wants to distance itself from the United States. Europe then sees Washington's reaction as further evidence that the United States is preparing to withdraw.

The result is that both sides can begin taking actions that make the outcome they fear more likely.

This is where the distinction between strategic direction and political rhetoric becomes particularly important. The argument that Europe needs to become more capable does not necessarily mean that America wants to leave Europe. In fact, it can mean almost the opposite: that Washington wants a stronger Europe because it wants the transatlantic alliance to remain viable under a much more demanding strategic environment.

The way those demands are communicated, however, matters enormously.

And this is where Trump does matter.

The rhetoric surrounding Greenland, tariffs, burden-sharing and the treatment of allies can create political damage that outlasts the individual policies themselves. A future administration could substantially improve the political atmosphere without changing the underlying strategic calculation. In other words, the relationship could become considerably more pleasant without becoming strategically identical to what it was before.

What if the strategic reassessment is broader than Trump?

This, to me, is the question Europe should be asking.

Not simply: What will America look like after Trump?

But: What will America still believe after Trump?

That is a much harder question, because presidents can change more quickly than strategic realities.

If the next administration believes that Europe should carry a greater share of the conventional defence burden, that is not necessarily a Trump position. If it believes that American resources must increasingly be directed towards the Indo-Pacific, that is not necessarily a Trump position. If it believes that technological leadership, industrial capacity and resilient supply chains are integral to national security, that is not necessarily a Trump position either.

The tone may change.

The methods may change.

The relationship may become more reassuring.

But the underlying direction may continue.

And that is why I think the European expectation that everything will simply become “normal” after Trump is potentially dangerous. It encourages Europe to wait for a political event instead of responding to a strategic transformation that is already underway.

From Aspen to NATO

This is also why the relationship between what I heard at Aspen and what is happening elsewhere is so interesting.

The point is not that Aspen “agrees with Trump”. It clearly does not represent a single political position, and there are substantial disagreements among its participants about American leadership, alliances, multilateralism and the appropriate use of American power.

The more interesting observation is that the political language differs while the strategic diagnosis is increasingly converging.

Across different parts of the American strategic ecosystem, there is a growing recognition that the old assumptions about American capacity, allied burden-sharing, industrial resilience, technology and global competition are becoming harder to sustain.

And some of those assumptions are now moving from discussion into institutions.

That is precisely why NATO's evolving defence-industrial agenda matters. It is not merely responding to one American president. It is responding to a security environment in which the Alliance as a whole needs more capacity, more production, faster procurement and greater resilience.

Aspen Security Forum 2026 provides one window into the debate.

NATO provides another.

Washington provides another.

The significance lies in the convergence between them.

Europe should be watching the assumptions, not just the administration

Strategic change often becomes visible before it becomes explicit policy. It begins when different institutions, political camps and professional communities start describing the world through similar assumptions, even when they disagree about what should be done about it.

That is what I found most interesting about Aspen this year.

Not that everyone agreed.

Not that Aspen “supports” the Trump administration.

And not that Trump is somehow irrelevant.

Rather, that a number of the strategic questions being raised by the current administration appear to be part of a much broader American reassessment that extends beyond the current president and may survive him.

Europe therefore faces a choice.

It can continue to frame the current period primarily as a Trump problem and hope that a change of administration will restore the familiar transatlantic bargain.

Or it can take the possibility seriously that the bargain itself is changing, and prepare accordingly.

The first approach waits for the next election.

The second responds to the strategic environment.

And perhaps the most important question for Europe is therefore not whether America will become “normal” again. It is instead this: what if Europe is waiting for a change of administration that will change the rhetoric, while missing a strategic shift that is already broader than the administration itself?

Göteborg 2026-08-14

Anna Jäderström