On the morning of 28 February 2026, the United States and Israel launched a large-scale military campaign against Iran, marking one of the most dramatic escalations in Middle Eastern geopolitics in recent decades. The initial wave of strikes targeted the upper echelons of Iran’s political and military leadership, killing Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei along with several senior figures in the Iranian command structure. Tehran swiftly retaliated, launching missile and drone strikes against Israel and targeting U.S. military bases across the region while also directing attacks towards American allies in the Gulf. Within hours, what began as a coordinated military operation had spiralled into a broader regional confrontation with significant consequences.
For Europe, the outbreak of the war came as a profound strategic shock. The scale and timing of the attack left European capitals scrambling to interpret a crisis that could rapidly reshape the region’s security landscape. Europe’s response has since been marked by caution, scepticism, and visible internal divisions. The U.S.–Israeli military campaign has not only sidelined Europe diplomatically but has also exposed the limits of European cohesion in responding to major geopolitical crises. While European governments have largely converged in condemning Iran’s retaliatory strikes against Gulf countries, their reactions to the initial U.S.–Israeli war of aggression have been far less coherent. European leaders appear divided over the legality, legitimacy, and strategic implications of the attack.
Beyond the immediate effects of such belligerence, the Iran war represents a revealing stress test of the contemporary Western order. The U.S.–Israeli campaign has exposed a structural asymmetry at the heart of the transatlantic relationship: while Washington retains escalation dominance, Europe bears disproportionate exposure to the consequences. This imbalance, in turn, produces fragmented European responses, weakens the credibility of international legal norms, and creates strategic openings for external actors, most notably Russia, to convert geopolitical disruption into material and financial advantage.
No European Consensus on Iran
Washington’s most closely aligned partner on the continent, the United Kingdom, has attempted to maintain a carefully calibrated transatlantic posture. Prime Minister Keir Starmer initially combined criticism of the Iranian regime with calls for restraint and de-escalation. London was also keen to underline that it had not directly participated in the strikes. In a move that surprised many observers, the British government reportedly placed restrictions on the use of the U.S. base at Diego Garcia in the Chagos Islands during the early phase of the operation. Starmer justified this cautious stance by pointing to the apparent lack of a well-considered political strategy behind the military campaign and by warning that regime change imposed from the air was unlikely to succeed. The position, however, quickly drew the ire of President Donald Trump. Under mounting pressure, London subsequently softened its stance, loosening restrictions on the use of its facilities to allow operations aimed at defending regional partners.
France, by contrast, adopted a more explicitly critical tone regarding the legality of the operation. President Emmanuel Macron framed the crisis by stressing that Iran bore primary responsibility for regional instability while simultaneously implying that the U.S.–Israeli strikes had occurred outside the bounds of international law. This framing suggested that the prohibition on the use of force remained a meaningful legal constraint—even in circumstances where the motivations behind the operation might be viewed as politically understandable. Yet Macron also avoided a direct confrontation with Washington, condemning Iran’s retaliatory attacks and ordering the deployment of the aircraft carrier Charles de Gaulle and additional military assets to the region to safeguard French interests.
In Germany, however, the tone has been noticeably more sympathetic towards Washington and Tel Aviv. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, while calling for restraint, has adopted a far firmer stance against Tehran than his French counterpart. Describing Iran as a persistent security threat, Merz argued that years of diplomacy and sanctions had failed to halt Tehran’s ambitions. Western governments, he suggested, share a collective interest in preventing Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons. His rhetoric closely echoed the strategic narratives advanced by both Washington and Israel. Indeed, Merz went even further, characterising the campaign against Iran as “justified and necessary,” implying that strict adherence to international law should not prevent actions deemed essential for regional and global security.
A strikingly different voice, however, emerged from Spain. Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, whose government had already drawn international attention for its outspoken criticism of Israel’s actions in Gaza, delivered one of the strongest European condemnations of the U.S.–Israeli War on Iran. Madrid declared the strikes to be in clear violation of international law and moved beyond rhetoric by prohibiting the use of Spanish military bases for operations against Iran. The decision provoked a furious response from the Trump administration, with threats from the White House to suspend cooperation and reconsider bilateral relations. Yet, the Spanish government has so far refused to reverse its position, presenting itself as a defender of the international legal order.
The broader European landscape reveals similar inconsistencies. Norway openly condemned the strikes as unlawful, while European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen adopted a markedly different tone, arguing that the Iranian regime should not attract sympathy and emphasising the Iranian people’s right to freedom, dignity, and self-determination—; remarks widely interpreted as a political justification for the campaign. Others went further in openly questioning the primacy of international law in such circumstances. Dutch Foreign Minister Tom Berendsen argued that the situation could not be judged solely through a legal framework, suggesting that the brutal nature of the Iranian regime demanded a more “realistic” assessment. Belgium’s Foreign Minister Maxime Prévot similarly contended that the illegality of the war must be weighed against “the principle of reality,” presenting the strikes as defensible in the name of global security.
Yet, the divisions visible across Europe should not come as a surprise. The fragmented responses of European governments reflect not merely a difference of opinion but a deeper structural tension that has long shaped European foreign policy: the uneasy balance between Europe’s aspiration for strategic autonomy and its enduring dependence on the transatlantic alliance. In this sense, the reactions emerging from European capitals reveal governments caught between three competing impulses—legalism rooted in the continent’s long-standing commitment to international law, strategic realism shaped by security concerns, and a sudden policy vacuum created by the sheer speed and unilateral nature of the military escalation.
These differences do not merely reflect divergent preferences; they translate into institutional paralysis through at least three mechanisms. First, asymmetrical security dependence on the United States creates varying thresholds for dissent, with more exposed states reluctant to openly challenge Washington. Second, the absence of a unified European command or rapid decision-making structure forces foreign policy into intergovernmental bargaining, where lowest-common-denominator positions prevail. Third, the reputational costs of inconsistency, particularly in the selective invocation of international law, generate defensive positioning among member states, further inhibiting consensus. Together, these dynamics transform normative disagreement into operational fragmentation, limiting Europe’s capacity to act collectively.
For years, the European Union had sought to manage the Iranian file through painstaking diplomacy centred on the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA). The agreement represented one of the EU’s most significant foreign policy achievements, reflecting a patient strategy that prioritised engagement, negotiation, and gradual de-escalation over coercion. While far from perfect, this diplomatic framework had provided a structured channel for managing tensions with Tehran. The sudden resort to military force by Washington and Tel Aviv, however, effectively rendered that strategy obsolete overnight. By sidelining diplomacy and turning to a rapid, largely unilateral use of force, the United States and Israel not only pushed the nuclear deal into irrelevance but also caught Europe’s collective security architecture off guard. The creation of a strategic fait accompli, without meaningful consultation with European allies, forced European governments into a reactive rather than proactive position in managing the crisis.
Another, more pragmatic factor behind Europe’s fractured stance lies in the potential spillover effects of the conflict. Compared to the United States, Europe is far more geographically and economically exposed to the regional repercussions of a broader Middle Eastern war. The conflict has already raised concerns over energy security, the stability of key maritime trade routes, and the prospect of renewed mass migration flows should the war escalate further. In other words, Europe may soon find itself bearing the consequences of a conflict it neither initiated, nor was properly consulted about, nor fully prepared for. This asymmetry between decision-making and consequences has deepened the caution—and, in some cases, hesitation—visible across European capitals.
Ultimately, even though European states are not directly participating in the military campaign, their strategic and economic interests are undeniably at stake. For this reason, European governments face an increasingly urgent challenge: to develop clearer and more coherent policies towards the crisis, both to safeguard their own interests and to strengthen their position within a transatlantic relationship that appears to be entering a period of growing strategic divergence. Without greater coordination and unity of purpose, Europe risks remaining not a decisive actor in the crisis, but a spectator compelled to manage its fallout; a dynamic whose consequences extend far beyond the continent itself.
The Silent Beneficiary: Russia’s Stakes in the Iran War
Another dimension of the European debate over the Iran war that deserves attention is its potential impact on the ongoing Russia–Ukraine conflict. At first glance, the crisis may appear to offer Kyiv certain tactical advantages. Iran, which has long supplied Russia with various military systems—most notably Shahed loitering munitions—now needs much of this equipment for its own war effort. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has also even offered to provide drone-interception systems and technical expertise to Gulf countries targeted by Iranian strikes, while also signalling Kyiv’s readiness to support Israel and the United States with defensive capabilities. On the surface, these developments might suggest that the conflict could weaken the military partnership between Tehran and Moscow.
Nevertheless, the broader strategic picture is less favourable for Ukraine. The escalation in the Middle East has already begun to divert critical Western military resources away from the Ukrainian theatre. Patriot batteries and other interceptor missile systems are being deployed to protect Israel and U.S. installations across the region from Iranian ballistic and missile attacks. This shift places additional strain on the already limited stockpiles available to Kyiv. At a time when Russia has intensified its own ballistic missile strikes on Ukrainian cities and infrastructure, the diversion of air-defence systems to the Middle East risks leaving Ukraine increasingly vulnerable.
Equally significant is the geopolitical distraction the conflict creates. As Western political and military attention pivots towards the Strait of Hormuz and the Persian Gulf, international scrutiny and strategic focus on the war in Ukraine may inevitably weaken. Such a shift creates opportunities for Moscow to expand hybrid operations, escalate pressure on the battlefield, and consolidate its position while global attention is fixed elsewhere.
In addition, the economic consequences of the Middle Eastern war may prove even more advantageous for Russia. The region holds roughly half of the world’s proven oil reserves and about 40 per cent of global gas resources, while approximately one-third of global seaborne oil and a quarter of liquefied natural gas shipments pass through the Strait of Hormuz. Any disruption to this chokepoint reverberates immediately through global energy markets. With Iran effectively threatening or constraining maritime traffic through the strait, oil prices have surged towards the $80–$100 per barrel range. For Russia—whose wartime budget calculations were based on oil prices well below that level—this spike acts as a powerful financial adrenaline shot, generating substantial additional revenues despite Western sanctions.
More fundamentally, Russia’s advantage is not incidental but systemic. The crisis enables Moscow to convert geopolitical disruption into three forms of strategic capital. First, financial capital, through elevated energy revenues that sustain its war economy. Second, operational capital, as Western military resources are reallocated away from Ukraine, reducing pressure on Russian forces. Third, strategic capital, as the fragmentation of Western attention erodes coordination and weakens the coherence of collective deterrence. In this sense, the Iran war illustrates a broader pattern in contemporary geopolitics: protracted, multi-theatre crises disproportionately favour revisionist actors capable of exploiting diffusion in Western strategic focus.
The disruption of Gulf energy flows towards Asia further amplifies this effect. As shipments from the region become uncertain, major buyers such as China and India are increasingly turning to discounted Russian oil to secure stable supplies. In turn, this surge in demand strengthens Moscow’s export revenues and helps sustain the financial resources required to continue its war effort in Ukraine. For Europe, the situation presents an uncomfortable paradox: a conflict in the Middle East not only risks exposing the continent’s lingering vulnerability in energy security but may also indirectly help finance the very war Russia is waging on European soil.
In this sense, while Moscow is not a direct participant in the Iran war, it may well emerge as one of its quiet strategic beneficiaries.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Europe now finds itself on the brink of bearing the heaviest consequences of a war it neither initiated nor directly joined. Its inability to forge a coherent, unified strategy for the conflict, combined with its struggle to define a firm, credible position within an increasingly strained transatlantic relationship, has left the continent strategically exposed. The war in the Middle East is no longer a distant crisis; it is one whose economic, political, and security reverberations are already being felt across European capitals. Unlike previous crises, however, Europe appears more vulnerable, less prepared, and increasingly reactive, lacking the necessary mechanisms to shield itself from the fallout.
This vulnerability is not accidental. It reflects the gradual erosion of the Western-led, rules-based international order—an erosion to which Europe itself has, at times, contributed through inconsistent responses to violations of international law and human rights. The selective application of legal norms and the failure to take principled positions in earlier crises have weakened both the credibility and the resilience of the liberal order that Europe once championed. Today, that erosion is returning as a strategic liability.
The Iran war thus reveals not only Europe’s vulnerability, but the structural conditions under which that vulnerability is reproduced: external escalation without consultation, internal fragmentation without coordination, and normative commitments without consistent enforcement.
What this moment demands, therefore, is not merely tactical adjustment but a deeper strategic reckoning. European states must recognise that the era of passively benefiting from global crises has come to an end. In an increasingly interconnected and volatile world, instability anywhere inevitably carries consequences for Europe itself. If the continent is to protect its interests and restore its credibility, it must move beyond ambiguity and fragmentation. This requires a renewed commitment to principled and consistent foreign policy—one that treats international law not as a flexible instrument of convenience but as a universal standard applied equally to all. Only by standing firmly and coherently against violations—regardless of the actor—can Europe hope to regain both strategic agency and moral authority in a rapidly changing global order.
