US puts Europe on hold: "America First" hits arms sales
In a revealing article for The Atlantic, journalist Vivian Salama lifts the curtain on a quiet but consequential shift in U.S. foreign military sales policy. What appears, on the surface, to be a bureaucratic adjustment—the Pentagon deprioritising certain European arms deals—is, in reality, a calculated move under President Donald Trump’s second administration. With “America First” now embedded into the DNA of U.S. defence policy, the transatlantic arms market is entering a period of uncertainty not seen since the early Cold War.
The first signs came in Denmark’s pursuit of a multibillion-dollar air-defence package. Washington’s initial enthusiasm gave way to sudden hesitation, ultimately leading Copenhagen to strike its largest-ever arms deal—worth $9.1 billion—with a French-Italian consortium. According to The Atlantic’s reporting, the Pentagon identified systems such as the Patriot missile defence platform as being in critically short supply, too valuable to export even to NATO allies. That decision, reportedly endorsed by Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense Elbridge Colby, reflects a wider recalibration: America’s allies must now fend for themselves or look elsewhere for protection.
The implications are profound. For decades, U.S. arms sales have served as both a defence lifeline and a geopolitical glue, binding allies to Washington while underwriting American industrial capacity. In fiscal year 2024 alone, foreign military sales reached nearly $118 billion. But as production lines struggle to keep pace with the demands of Ukraine, Israel, and Taiwan, the Trump administration appears intent on reserving dwindling stockpiles for U.S. forces. What once was a tool of influence is being transformed into a scarcity-driven calculus.
For Europe, the timing could hardly be worse. Russian aggression remains an immediate threat, underscored by Estonia’s recent claims of airspace violations. With few alternatives to the Patriot system, European capitals risk exposure to the very aerial attacks NATO was designed to deter. Strategic gaps are already emerging: states that had counted on U.S. replacements after donating weapons to Ukraine are discovering those orders are frozen. As one analyst put it, Washington is telling Europe to arm Ukraine and defend itself, while simultaneously denying it the means to do so.
Economically, the fallout extends beyond European security. U.S. defence firms stand to lose billions in contracts, jobs, and research opportunities, while rivals in Europe and Asia capitalise on the vacuum. Denmark’s pivot toward Franco-Italian systems may be a harbinger of wider European diversification away from U.S. suppliers. Former Biden officials warn this is more than a market shift: it risks eroding U.S. influence across the continent, weakening the alliance structure at a moment of heightened geopolitical peril.
The Atlantic piece situates this development within Colby’s long-standing worldview: that China, not Russia, is the existential challenge. By concentrating resources on the Western Pacific, the U.S. risks downgrading Europe to a secondary priority, even as Moscow tests NATO’s resolve. The contradiction is glaring—an “America First” strategy that could leave allies second-guessing America’s reliability.
Whether Congress and industry pressure will reverse the policy remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: America’s arsenal, once a cornerstone of global security, is no longer an open resource for its allies. In Europe, the absence of U.S. Patriots may soon prove more destabilising than the presence of Russian missiles.
By Vugar Khalilov