An analysis of human history leads to a sobering conclusion: the story of our civilization is not one of peaceful creation, but of military conflict. But, strange as it may seem, it is war that has often driven technological development. A prime example is World War II, which spurred a new era of technical progress and shaped the post-war world order.
The war Russia launched in Ukraine, which has now been raging for three and a half years, has not only become the largest armed conflict in Europe since World War II but also a powerful catalyst for a large-scale transformation of the European Union’s industrial landscape. While just five years ago, discussions in Brussels revolved around the “Green Transition” and cutting military spending, today Europe is experiencing a reluctant but profound defense renaissance.
According to a Financial Times study, the pace of military construction and modernization across the continent has outstripped civilian projects three-fold over the past two years. This isn’t about isolated upgrades but a full-scale “industrial pivot.” New shell assembly lines, gunpowder and explosive factories, and expanded ammunition production capacities are all a direct response to the protracted war in Ukraine, the urgent need for the West to offset the massive rate of weapons consumption in the combat zone, and the necessity to bolster its own defense capabilities in case of aggression.
A key driver of this shift has been the implementation of the European program ASAP (Act in Support of Ammunition Production), which aims to close the gap between arms supply and demand. Combined with national contracts funded by EU member states, ASAP has become an instrument of emergency industrialization. In essence, the EU has transitioned in a matter of years from a policy of “peace through trade” to one of “peace through deterrence,” where defense orders have become a core element of economic and political survival.
This transformation also has a social dimension: new defense factories across Europe are becoming major employers in depressed regions. However, this growing reliance of local economies on military production is raising concerns among unions and some politicians who, not without reason, see the risk of “labor militarization.”
The German corporation Rheinmetall holds a special place in this new architecture. In early 2025, the company signed the largest contract in its history with the Bundeswehr, valued at over €8.5 billion, for the supply of 155mm artillery shells. To fulfill the contract, the company has been building and modernizing production facilities in Unterlüß, Germany, as well as in Spain and other EU countries. According to industry analyses, Rheinmetall has become a symbol of “new German responsibility,” and Berlin, long criticized for its indecisiveness in military aid to Ukraine, is now a locomotive of the European defense industry.
This decision by Berlin also has political undertones. Germany, where pacifist sentiments have traditionally been strong, now openly acknowledges that the threat from Russia requires not only military support for Kyiv but also a readiness for direct confrontation.
However, this forced defense surge is facing certain problems, primarily a shortage of raw materials for the production of explosives, particularly nitrocellulose, a key component for propellants and powders.
In April 2025, Defense News reported on the first EU deals for the vertical integration of raw material supply. The goal is to create a closed loop, from chemical feedstock to finished ammunition, to reduce reliance on third-party suppliers, especially from potentially unstable regions. Nevertheless, experts warn that in the coming years, raw material deficits could jeopardize the EU’s ability to supply not only Ukraine but also its own armies.
For Ukraine, the process of a European military-industrial renaissance means a gradual shift in approach. While in 2022–2023, supplies were largely an emergency measure and came at the expense of NATO stockpiles, by 2024–2025, Europe is now creating a separate industrial base for a “protracted war.”
It must be acknowledged, however, that the defense boom is creating conditions for a social schism. On one hand, the overwhelming majority of citizens in Eastern European countries, from Warsaw to Vilnius, believe that growing defense capabilities are a matter of survival. On the other, voices are growing louder in France, Germany, and Spain from those who see the “militarization of the economy” as a dangerous step toward a new arms race.
Still, the Russian threat has become an undeniable factor shaping public opinion. According to polls conducted in early 2025, more than 60% of EU residents admit that without a sharp increase in defense potential, Europe risks repeating the Ukrainian scenario on its own territory.
Thus, in today’s reality, Europe stands at the beginning of a long-term transformation. The boom in military factory construction, multi-billion-euro contracts for Rheinmetall, and the push to secure raw material supply chains are all foundational elements of a “defense economy.”
This raises a logical question: will it be possible to maintain a balance between security and social stability? Political elites have, for now, chosen to prioritize strength, as the threat from the East is both real and immense.