February 2022 and the beginning of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine marked a new turning point for Germany — a fundamental reassessment of the country’s position in the European security system, its military doctrine, and the restructuring of its economy. But does this represent mere adaptation to new threats, or is Europe witnessing the birth of a new power?
By 2026, Germany is demonstrating an unprecedented growth in defence spending that would have seemed politically impossible just a few years ago. The total military budget has reached €108 billion, comprising €82.6 billion in regular appropriations and approximately €25 billion from the special fund known as the Sondervermögen Bundeswehr (Special Assets for the Bundeswehr). This fund was established in 2022 as an emergency measure immediately following the Russian invasion of Ukraine, initially totalling €100 billion — an unprecedented step for a country that had spent decades avoiding large-scale military investment. As a result, Germany has for the first time in its modern history exceeded NATO’s average defence spending benchmark, reaching 2.4–2.5% of GDP.
But it is not merely a matter of figures — the very philosophy of national security is changing. Defence Minister Boris Pistorius, in 2024–2025, articulated a goal that until recently would have been unthinkable in German politics: to build “the strongest conventional army in Europe.” Behind this declaration lies a concrete programme. The Bundeswehr’s active personnel is planned to grow from 181,000 to 260,000 by 2030–2035, with an additional reserve of 200,000 personnel. In parallel, an accelerated rearmament programme is underway, encompassing modern F-35 fighter jets, upgraded armoured vehicles, expanded air defence systems, and cyber warfare capabilities. In this context, the decision to station a German brigade in Lithuania was highly symbolic. The so-called Lithuania Brigade, numbering approximately 4,800 troops, is to be deployed between 2025 and 2027, marking the first permanent stationing of a large German military contingent abroad.
Germany’s shift in defence policy cannot be explained by internal ambitions alone — it has largely been dictated by external circumstances that Berlin can no longer afford to ignore.
One of the key factors is the gradual leadership vacuum left by the United States. Since the 2020s, Washington’s strategic focus has visibly shifted toward confrontation with China. The Indo-Pacific region has become the priority, while Europe — despite the ongoing war on its eastern borders — has been reduced to a secondary theatre. The situation is further complicated by domestic political fluctuations within the US itself, which cast doubt on the long-term reliability of American security guarantees. Under these conditions, the European Union has, for the first time in a long while, seriously begun discussing “strategic autonomy.” And the key economic and industrial resource of Europe is concentrated precisely in Germany, which accounts for approximately 25% of the Eurozone’s GDP and retains the EU’s largest industrial base. As a result, Berlin finds itself in a position where refusing leadership would, in effect, mean abandoning responsibility for the security of the entire continent.
No less significant has been what might be called the Russian challenge, which has definitively buried Germany’s former concept of Wandel durch Handel — “Change through Trade.” Before 2022, Germany operated on the assumption that economic interdependence reduces the likelihood of conflict. However, Russia’s military spending rising to 6–7% of GDP, its shift to a mobilisation-based economy, and the protracted nature of the war have exposed the flaws in that logic.
Finally, a powerful motivating force is the struggle for Europe’s technological sovereignty. Without Germany’s participation, key defence projects face serious risk — among them the Future Combat Air System (FCAS), designed to produce a sixth-generation fighter jet, and the Main Ground Combat System (MGCS), a project for a new European tank. The failure of these programmes would leave Europe strategically dependent on either the United States or alternative suppliers, including South Korea. In this light, German investment in defence has ceased to be a matter of national policy alone, and Germany’s growing strength appears not so much a choice as a near-inevitability.
Despite the rational justifications and objective factors at play, Germany’s military rise is a source of concern — not only among external observers, but within Europe itself. Historical memory, overlaid onto contemporary political processes, renders any increase in German military power a subject of close and often wary scrutiny.
One of the most sensitive issues remains the so-called “right-wing drift” within the army. Since the early 2020s, Germany has faced a series of scandals within its armed forces that have raised questions about the resilience of democratic institutions inside the military. Particular attention was drawn to the Kommando Spezialkräfte (KSK), the Bundeswehr’s elite special forces unit. In 2020, caches of weapons and ammunition were discovered at its base, and investigations revealed connections between individual soldiers and far-right networks. These episodes alarmed the country’s political leadership and prompted a partial reform of the unit.
At the same time, the influence of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party has been growing. In 2024–2025, support for the party fluctuated between 18% and 22% at the federal level, with the party emerging as the leading force in several eastern states. In this context, analysts are increasingly discussing a scenario that, while still theoretical, no longer seems fantastical: within 5–10 years, a significantly strengthened Bundeswehr could fall under the political influence of forces that are sceptical of the European Union and the liberal democratic model.
Equally noteworthy is what might be termed “industrial egoism.” Germany’s defence industry is currently experiencing a period of rapid growth, driven by companies such as Rheinmetall and ThyssenKrupp. As orders and state investment increase, friction with EU partners is becoming more frequent. Germany regularly promotes solutions that serve its own industry first — even when doing so delays pan-European initiatives. A telling example is the protracted dispute with France over the FCAS programme.
Critics point out that what is taking shape is not a unified European defence-industrial complex, but rather a Germany-dominated system. Other countries risk finding themselves in the position of a technological and manufacturing periphery, which deepens asymmetry within the EU and calls into question the reality of any genuinely shared defence effort.
Germany displays no expansionist ideology, and its military strategy remains firmly embedded within the institutional frameworks of NATO and the EU. The driving force behind these changes is not revanchism, but the necessity of ensuring security in a drastically deteriorated geopolitical environment.
Nevertheless, the changes themselves are of a fundamental nature. Germany is gradually becoming a military-political power, which inevitably shifts the balance of forces within the EU and increases the dependence of European partners on decisions made in Berlin. In these circumstances, the central question is no longer whether Germany will grow stronger — that has, in effect, already happened. Far more important is whether Europe will succeed in building effective mechanisms of collective oversight over this new power, before accumulated fears and mistrust are transformed into a genuine political fracture.
