A far-right wind is blowing across the Atlantic. While the rise of the populist right in Europe predated Donald Trump’s re-election, far-right parties, leaders and governments across Europe are being bolstered by his imminent return to power, and by Elon Musk’s rising political star. There is some hope that Trump’s presidency could have a unifying effect on Europe – and on issues such as defence policy, I believe it might.
Trump’s apparent disregard for international law, sovereign borders and the US’s Nato allies with his ludicrous threat, even before his second term begins, to annex Greenland by force, drew a swift and unified reaction from France, Germany and Spain, whose leaders made it clear that they are, as you would expect, appalled and standing with Denmark. Germany’s chancellor, Olaf Scholz, said Trump’s remarks had triggered “incomprehension” among European leaders.
But in areas such as trade, technology and space, there is a much higher chance that a more nationalistic Europe, confronted by a predatory divide-and-rule US, will fragment rather than stick together. And this is exactly what the Trump-Musk axis seems to be after.
The second wave of nationalist-populism in Europe has been in full swing for more than two years, after a temporary lull during the pandemic and the first year of the Ukraine war. Since late 2022, far-right parties have either entered government or provided outside support for it in Sweden, Finland and Croatia. In Italy, the far right’s Giorgia Meloni leads a rightwing coalition government, while in the Netherlands, although a technocrat prime minister heads the executive, Geert Wilders’ far-right Party for Freedom is the majority shareholder in it.
The new year suggests this trend will continue. In Austria the far-right Freedom party leader, Herbert Kickl, has now been tasked with forming a government, and even if talks between his FPÖ and the conservatives fail, it is likely that new elections would see a further strengthening of the far right.
In Romania, the presidential election late last year was dramatically annulled by the courts, after evidence emerged of mass interference via social media in support of the far-right candidate Călin Georgescu. But the re-run will take place later this year, and may nonetheless see another surge of support for Georgescu.
In the Czech Republic too, elections will probably bring the populist Andrej Babiš’s Action for Dissatisfied Citizens (Ano) party back to power. This would lead to a realignment of the Czech Republic with Viktor Orbán’s illiberal regime in Hungary and Robert Fico’s Slovakia. Perhaps in France too, if Emmanuel Macron’s latest attempt at establishing a stable government fails, the rise of Marine Le Pen’s National Rally to power may become unstoppable.
Far-right parties come in different shapes and forms in Europe, and are still some distance from representing a blocking minority in the EU. But they are growing in strength and numbers, have made headway in coordinating with each other in EU institutions, and are increasingly effective at influencing the centre right, fudging and erasing the cordon sanitaire that kept them out of power for decades.
Against this backdrop, Trump 2.0 and Musk enter the fray, making no secret of their political preferences in Europe. With the German election approaching, Musk has openly praised the neo-Nazi Alternative für Deutschland, hosting a live talk with its leader, Alice Weidel, on X to promote it. Musk seems to regard making derogatory comments about centre-left leaders Keir Starmer and Olaf Scholz a blood sport.
But not all European leaders are as critical as the German, French and Spanish. Orbán and Meloni have refrained from criticising Trump or Musk, and have received nothing but praise in return.
Meloni was at Mar-a-Lago for dinner on 4 January, where she was lauded by Trump as a “fantastic leader” who “has taken Europe by storm”.
Europe is deeply anxious about Trump’s return, fearing a US pull-out from European security, starting with Ukraine, a transatlantic trade war and the undermining of multilateralism. As Europeans fret about Trump, they try to gauge who might be the possible whisperer and bridge-builder across the Atlantic. The truth is that there isn’t one, or certainly not one who can whisper in Trump’s ear to make sure the EU’s interests are protected.
Some candidates are already disqualified on one side or the other of the Atlantic. Orbán fancies himself as a Trump whisperer, and grossly abused Hungary’s six-month EU presidency that came to an end in December to position himself as a go-between on Russia and Ukraine. But while Orbán may have Trump’s ear, he has marginalised himself in the EU and is unlikely to recover his reputation. Other European leaders may try, Macron and Poland’s Donald Tusk among them. But Macron, while vaunting a relatively good relationship with Trump, is extremely weak domestically. Tusk is much stronger at home and will be in the EU’s rotating presidency for the first six months of Trump’s term. He can also boast of defence spending of up to 4.7% of GDP. But the personal chemistry between the two when Tusk was president of the European Council was far from stellar.
This is why many look to Meloni, who gloats about her rapport with Trump and Musk and has not marginalised herself in Europe like Orbán. But Meloni is a nationalist, and nationalist leaders will always use their political capital with Trump to further their national interests. In Meloni’s case, she will probably seek to soften the blows from Washington related to Italy’s significant trade surplus with the US and unimpressive defence spending at 1.5% of GDP.
She will not prioritise common European interests, certainly not over national ones. And given that personal chemistry alone is unlikely to appease Trump, Meloni may have to give something substantial in return for any wins. These concessions are not all necessarily bad for Europe. Spending more on defence or even buying more US liquefied natural gas, for instance, would make sense for both Italy and Europe.
But other moves may be more problematic, starting with the possible €1.6bn deal leaked this week between Italy and Musk’s SpaceX to provide communications services for Italian institutions, including defence, via Starlink technology. While Starlink is secure, putting yourself in the hands of a foreign company owned by the richest man on Earth opens up huge security risks, given how weaponisable such dependence could become. It is paradoxical that such a deal could be sealed by a sovereigntist leader. Were it to go ahead, it could also indirectly hamper Iris2, a €10bn multi-orbital constellation of 290 satellites led by a consortium of European players (including Italian companies).
Anxiety is generating a spasmodic search for a Trump whisperer in Europe. But such figures could end up being ineffective at best, Trojan horses at worst. Those who have Trump’s ear are far more likely to push Trump’s interests in Europe, rather than European interests in the US. Instead of worrying about Trump, Europe would do best to stand together and worry more about itself.
-
Nathalie Tocci is a Guardian Europe columnist