In a gilded room that once echoed with Cold War resolve, 32 leaders met in The Hague. They left after just six hours—and with them, the sense of a transatlantic alliance on auto-pilot, scripted for an audience of one: Donald J. Trump.
After decades of growing under the banner of collective defense, the alliance now stares down a very different kind of transformation—not one of territory or treaties, but of purpose, pace, and price tag. And behind the glass walls and anodyne communiqués, the air inside the summit was charged with a blend of calculation, coercion, and cautious defiance.
Despite the crisp wording of the official communiqué, what emerged from the shortest NATO summit in history wasn’t so much a strategy for security, but a performance—equal parts appeasement and pressure, silence and spectacle. “We reaffirm our unwavering commitment to Article 5… and to allocating no less than 5% of our GDP by 2035 to national security,” the communique read—carefully avoiding deeper discussion on Ukraine, Russia, or China.
Unlike previous summits, Russia was scarcely mentioned. Not a word about Russia’s occupation of Kharkiv or cyberattacks on the Baltics. Not a single line referencing Wagner units still operating in Belarus and eastern Ukraine. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, who attended a private dinner the night before but was absent from the main summit, reportedly told Baltic leaders: “We weren’t part of the show. We were backstage.” His disappointment was palpable.“Ukraine deserves more than silence,” he told reporters in Kyiv. “We do not want NATO to become a defense contractor. We want it to be a defense alliance.”
The New NATO: Spend to Belong?
At the core of the summit’s “historic” declaration is a 5% of GDP defense investment pledge, a massive escalation from the 2% threshold set in 2014. But the number alone belies the political complexity, and moral ambiguity, of what just unfolded. Leaders didn’t debate if NATO needs strengthening. They debated how much pain their citizens can take, and how visibly they can appease a second Trump presidency without appearing like vassals.
Behind closed doors, several senior European diplomats confided to wandering media paratroopers that France and Germany pushed for a broader definition of ‘defense spending’, one that includes cybersecurity, border surveillance, critical infrastructure, and even anti-disinformation initiatives. That framing gave political cover to reluctant member states.
“This isn’t just about tanks and troops,” one German official reportedly said in a closed-door breakout session. “It’s about proving relevance to the US, even if the real buildup takes a decade.” The term whispered frequently in the hallways wasn’t “unity” or “peace,” but rather: “Trump-proofing.”
Trump’s Ghost in the Room
Even before he potentially returns to the White House, Donald Trump dominated the summit. His previous jabs at NATO (“obsolete,” “freeloaders,” “protection for payment”) have now solidified into a reality: a transactional, number-driven military alliance. European leaders, though publicly restrained, were privately seething. Yet none dared to openly rebuff the 5% mandate.
Belgian Prime Minister Bart De Wever, speaking with guarded optimism, stated: “There are no opt-outs… We’ve all agreed on the language. How we interpret it will be sovereign.” His phrasing was diplomatic code for: We agreed to the headline. The fine print is ours to finesse. And finesse they must. Belgium, Spain, Italy, and others are nowhere near the 5% line—and aren’t projected to be for another decade, if at all.
The Theatre Behind the Velvet Curtain
Insiders from Dutch and German diplomatic teams confirmed to this scribe that the summit’s agenda had been “Trump-proofed” days in advance. The idea, according to one memo leaked from the a Dutch Foreign Ministry, was to “keep the former and likely future U.S. President satisfied, visible, and victorious, without igniting discord.”
In short: give him the optics of victory. “He wanted a win—and they gave him one,” said one EU diplomat, speaking anonymously. “But the win was theatre. The rest of us are still figuring out what 5% actually means in practical terms.”
- Trump’s NATO Ultimatum: Pay Up or Face U.S. Withdrawal
- Why European Citizens Don’t Fully Support NATO?
- Iranian and Palestinian flags, demonstrators call out NATO’s global role
What the Communiqué Didn’t Say
The final communique—an 11-page document scrubbed of sharp edges—praised unity, reaffirmed Article 5, and laid out the 5% goal with crafted ambiguity. It was careful not to mention Trump, the word “pressure,” or any deadlines. There were no enforcement mechanisms. Even the phrase “5% by 2035” was not mandatory, but “aspirational.”
A senior EU diplomat, speaking anonymously, said: “The communique is like a résumé after a messy career—tidy, impressive, and mostly divorced from reality.”
What Leaders Said—And Didn’t Say
Donald Trump left The Hague visibly buoyant. “We made NATO strong again,” he said from his hotel balcony to American press. “They’re paying their share now—finally.”
In private, however, French President Emmanuel Macron was less impressed. According to French sources, Macron called the summit “a strategic vacuum wrapped in an American flag.”
German Chancellor Annalena Baerbock, under fire for her government’s sluggish military procurement, publicly called the summit “a reboot of NATO’s software.” But in closed-door talks, she reportedly expressed frustration over the “hollowing of collective decision-making.”
The NATO’s Secretary General and former Prime Minister of Netherlands, PM Mark Rutte, the de facto summit host, kept smiles for the cameras but was heard lamenting that “we ran a parade, not a council.”
Examine the 5%: A Policy, A PR or A Hedge?
Make no mistake: committing to 5% of GDP in defense-related spending is nothing short of seismic—a doubling of the NATO standard that’s governed alliance expectations since 2014. Back then, following Russia’s annexation of Crimea, the Wales Summit Declaration called on member states to move toward 2% of GDP within a decade. Most fell short, with the average NATO spend hovering around 1.8% as late as 2023. Now, suddenly, the bar is more than doubled, without the same ten-year grace period or economic runway.
But here’s the catch: unlike the original 2% target, which measured mostly core defense expenditure—troop readiness, hardware, and direct procurement—the new 5% threshold is considerably broader and, by many accounts, more opaque.
This expanded definition includes:
- R&D for military technology, including dual-use AI and drone systems
- Cybersecurity infrastructure, often housed within civilian agencies
- Disinformation and information warfare efforts, under foreign affairs and intelligence budgets
- Border surveillance and hybrid-threat resilience, such as critical infrastructure protection
On paper, this broader definition gives countries political cover to count existing spending toward their target. But critics argue that it dilutes the military readiness function NATO is supposed to ensure. “It’s a number dressed in strategic ambiguity,” said a senior Danish defense official, speaking off-record. “You could hit 5% and still have a hollow force. That’s not defense. That’s theater.”
Who Can—and Can’t—Afford 5%?
The Prime Minister of United Kingdom Keir Starmer confirmed Britain’s trajectory to this new target: “We will increase defence and security spending to 5% of GDP by 2035—with 3.5% for direct defence and 1.5% for resilience and critical infrastructure”. Interestingly, his pledge comes with qualifiers. Starmer delays detailed funding until a 2029 review.
Meanwhile, analysis from summit declarations and allied reporting suggests that “Only three countries can reach that number in the next five years. Let’s take a look:
Table 2: NATO Allies Progress Towards 5% of GDP Pledge as of June 2025
| Country | Current Defense Spending (% of GDP) | 5% Target Year (Estimated) | Commentary |
| Poland | 4.0% | 2026 | Already moving aggressively, war-ready posture, supported by U.S. arms imports |
| UK | 2.6% (planned 4.1% by 2027) | 2030 | Significant hikes planned; industrial ramp-up underway |
| Germany | 1.6% | 2035 (conditional) | Politically and structurally constrained, the Bundeswehr is rebuilding from decades of underinvestment |
| France | 2.4% | 2033 (tentative) | Ambitious target, but economic stagnation and restive domestic politics could hinder the path |
| Spain | 1.2% (declined to join 5% pledge) | Exempt | Budgetary pressures, electoral backlash, and preference for soft-power projection |
Others, such as Italy, Belgium, and the Netherlands, hover between 1.3% and 1.8%, and are unlikely to double defense spending without radical budget restructurings or external security shocks.
The Prime Minister of Belgium Bart De Wever was not far from UK’s stance. Whil;e talking to the reporters he emphasized solidarity but emphasized practicality: “I would like to underline that there are no opt‑outs whatsoever. Everybody accepts the same text. It’s a matter of interpretation. You have to do the 5% and the capabilities. And the interpretation of Spain is that they can realise the capabilities without doing 3.5 % of GDP. This remains to be seen.”
Cautious like all the leaders at NATO, he declined to directly criticize Trump but uttered this when prompted about logic and reality of 5%: “I don’t think it is wise to comment on that, but it is the reality that we face. So as Europeans, we should realise that our long break from history is over and that we have to take our own responsibility for the security of our own continent in a very difficult time.”
De Wever was certainly walking a tightrope by publicly affirming Belgium’s support for the 5% framework while legally and rhetorically keeping room for flexibility and scrutiny. He’s sending a clear message: Belgium will comply with the agreement, but only with a realistic, staged implementation plan. This stance mirrors broader European caution, supporting higher defense commitments, yet resisting hasty escalation and overt confrontation with the US under Trump’s pressure.
Who Really Benefits from the 5% Surge?
A leaked assessment from the US Department of Defense, shared anonymously with defense publication Strategos, lays bare the economic subtext of the 5% policy: “Based on current procurement trends, alliance interoperability targets, and approved vendor lists, up to 90% of incremental military hardware spending will benefit U.S.-based defense contractors either directly or through licensing frameworks.”
This includes:
- F-35 fighter jets and replacement parts
- Patriot missile systems
- Cyber threat intelligence platforms (e.g. Palantir, Raytheon, Booz Allen)
- NATO-standard encrypted communications hardware
In effect, the 5% target becomes a stimulus package for the US defense sector, a windfall estimated to approach $300–$400 billion over the next 10 years, according to analysts at RAND and CSIS.
European governments, many already facing populist pushback and budgetary pressure, are now caught between two impossible optics:
- Appear weak and uncommitted to defense under Trump’s hawkish gaze
- Or, be seen as subsidizing American industrial interests while cutting domestic social spending
“It’s a lose-lose in the court of public opinion,” said Lucía Ballesteros, a defense economist at Spain’s IE University. “Especially when voters are told hospitals are closing, but F-35s are arriving.”
Is the 5% Pledge a Long-Term Strategy—or a Short-Term Political Fix?
What we are witnessing is not just a spending surge. It’s a strategic redefinition, shaped under the duress of Trump-era politics. In one sense, the 5% pledge has served its immediate purpose: keeping Trump at the table. But in doing so, NATO may have mortgaged its strategic clarity, economic cohesion, and moral authority for a number that—while flashy—hides as much as it reveals.
As former NATO Secretary-General Anders Fogh Rasmussen privately noted at a post-summit dinner: “Defense is not a ledger. It is a purpose. If the purpose fades, no number will save the alliance.”
What This Means for NATO
This is more than a budgetary shake-up. It’s a philosophical shift—one that risks altering NATO’s identity from a collective defense pact to a high-dollar, threat-based security market. Some key implications can be:
- NATO’s strategic compass now bends toward procurement metrics rather than threat deterrence outcomes. The success of alliance cohesion risks being quantified in percentage points, not shared values or readiness posture.
- Member states may game the 5% figure by reallocating or redefining spending rather than enhancing capabilities. Already, multiple finance ministries are exploring whether dual-use infrastructure or cybersecurity departments can be booked under defense.
- NATO’s political cohesion could fragment between those able to meet the 5% bar (UK, Poland, France) and those who either opt out (Spain) or fall short (Germany, Belgium). This creates a two-speed alliance—a recipe for strategic incoherence.
- Technological dependence on the US will increase as European defense sectors struggle to scale fast enough. Without parallel investments in homegrown R&D consortia (like Airbus or MBDA), Europe could become an even more strategic client of Washington.
Three Paths Forward: NATO’s Identity Crisis
As leaders rushed to sign the communique and the press cycles began to spin, it became clear that NATO is heading into one of three possible futures:
- Spend to Survive: Some states—especially frontline nations like Poland, Estonia, and the UK—will aggressively ramp up real military outlays, often at the expense of domestic social spending. Others will attempt to reach 5% via budgetary alchemy, repackaging civil infrastructure or cyber investments under “defense modernization.” The primary goal: avoid triggering Trump’s wrath or withdrawal threats.
- Dual-Speed NATO: A hardened core of militarized states—including the U.S., UK, France, and Poland—will push ahead with deep interoperability, joint procurement, and technology-sharing. Meanwhile, a looser periphery lags behind, becoming politically present but operationally absent. A NATO of the willing vs. the signing. This scenario could fracture long-term cohesion, but placate the White House in the short run.
- Strategic Reset Post-Trump: Should Trump lose in 2028, a future administration may reassess the 5% doctrine, emphasizing capability-based contributions and true burden-sharing over arbitrary fiscal metrics. In this scenario, NATO could refocus on resilience, strategic autonomy, and non-military challenges like AI, climate, and civil defense.
The Human Cost: Missing from the Math
Outside the summit barricades, a quieter tension brewed. Activists, students, and civil society leaders protested not against NATO per se, but against a world where budgets for missiles balloon while schools and hospitals shrink.
“You can’t eat tanks,” read one banner. Another: “Article 5—for housing, when?”
Inside, that tension was almost entirely absent. The language of the communique focused on “generational defense transformation”, “deterrence readiness”, and “war-time logistics scalability.” Not a single line acknowledged the cost to civilian priorities or public consent in austerity-hit economies.
Economists warn that doubling defense allocations to 5% of GDP, even when stretched to 2035, means hundreds of billions diverted from welfare, education, and green transition projects across Europe. This wasn’t just a military summit. It was a redefinition of political priorities for the next decade or maybe till the end of Trump 2.0.
NATO Will Now be A Club, a Creditor, or a Cause?
This NATO summit will be remembered not for what was said, but what was sacrificed.
- Transparency, traded for consensus.
- Democratic input, traded for top-down directives.
- Strategic clarity, traded for political survival.
As of today, NATO is no longer just a military pact. It’s an evolving investment framework, a geostrategic hedge fund, where membership requires buy-in—literally. What remains unclear is whether it can hold together once the invoices come due.
Because in the shadows of these diplomatic theatrics, one truth remains:
NATO is still the most powerful military alliance in human history. But power without purpose is not deterrence. It’s a drift.
In the end, The Hague did not deliver a blueprint for collective defense. It produced a balance sheet—a ledger of ambitions, anxieties, and silent concessions. What was billed as a generational leap forward for NATO might, in hindsight, be remembered as a generational pivot: from principled deterrence to pressured compliance.
Inside the summit’s secure halls, leaders spoke in hushed tones of “Trump-proofing” and “budgetary interpretation,” while on the record, they nodded in harmony. The 5% GDP pledge, vague in timeline and elastic in definition, became the price of continued American engagement—but it may also be the currency that devalues NATO’s cohesion if not matched with clarity, capability, and trust.
For all its pomp, the summit revealed less about NATO’s strength and more about its stress fractures. Ukraine, left out of the formal talks, symbolized the alliance’s quiet contradiction: defending borders without fully embracing those most under siege. Meanwhile, the economic beneficiaries of this spending spree—overwhelmingly U.S. defense contractors—stood poised to profit, even as European public services brace for austerity.
What happens next is not just a question for generals and defense ministers. It is one for parliaments, protestors, and everyday citizens across Europe and North America. The alliance now finds itself at a crossroads—not of geography, but of identity: Will it evolve into a transactional security club or reassert itself as a genuine community of values?
History has shown that military alliances do not fracture from external pressure alone—they erode when internal purpose is replaced by political theater. The Hague did not fracture NATO. But it did fracture the illusion that its unity is self-sustaining. The question is no longer whether NATO will survive. It’s whether it will still mean something when it does.
