Commentary
Security
Europe’s Long March to Strategic Autonomy – COMMENTARY
3 April 2025
4 April 2025
Will Donald Trump’s ‘Liberation Day’ hit global trade like a sledgehammer? The 47th President slaps steep tariffs to rewire America’s economic security. MAGA Republicans hail it as a gut punch to decades of exploitation. World leaders condemn it as the spark for a new trade war. The move jolted Europe awake: the global free-trade party is over.
This geo-economic shift was brewing long before Trump’s comeback – we just ignored it. Now, with China and Russia flexing and America betting on muscle-bound alliances, Europe has no choice: make economic security our lifeline or sink with autocratic dependencies.
In Europe as much as in Poland, economic security must become the cornerstone of a renewed social contract and national security strategy. To paraphrase a famous slogan: It’s geo-economics, stupid.
Donald Trump’s re-election as President of the United States proves that populism is prevailing. As a result, the world now fears trade wars and the collapse of global commerce, which are reshaping the frameworks of domestic and international policy. But what if these new geo-economic contours were sketched out years ago, and we’ve simply failed to grasp them?
We react with surprise and indignation to restrictions on international trade – trade that flourished during the era of peace dividends, when armies stood down and economies surged.
Wars are won by those who best harness their own resources: materials and determination. The West, including Poland, finds itself in a ‘pre-war era’, and the comforting pages of The End of History have been firmly shut.
America since the Obama administration – alongside G7 allies like Britain, Germany and Japan – has begun rewriting the rules. Economic security is no longer a footnote to prosperity; it’s the foundation of survival.
These countries are redefining the tricky balance between their ambitions for prosperity and the need to defend against the aggressive policies of anti-democratic states, chiefly China and Russia. The costs of scaling back certain ambitions are becoming increasingly apparent to a growing number of nations. What does this mean for us?
Poland faces the task of writing its chapter in the book of geo-economics, confronting pivotal questions: What matters most to us? What are we willing to sacrifice to preserve our freedom of choice – culturally, economically and politically? This demands not only building strategic autonomy through production and procurement – critical to our security – but also designing policies that ensure pro-democratic forces retain the political capital needed to shape the nation’s future effectively.
Contemporary arguments from leading figures in American politics – both Republican and Democrat – show striking alignment. The United States should intertwine security with economic priorities and encourage allies to align their economies with security concerns.
In an article for the Economist, Scott Bessent – Donald Trump’s Treasury Secretary and a former Democratic Party donor – wrote: ‘Clearer segmentation of the international economy would provide more effective levers to confront the underlying sources of imbalances than the currently dominant bilateral approach. Additionally, the cost (of) remaining outside the perimeter would be high. (…) The current global economic system is in an unsustainable disequilibrium. Western middle- and working-class populations are growing increasingly wary of globalisation. The only way to preserve the benefits of the international trading system is to question some of its mistaken assumptions and update them for the current moment.’ [1]
On the one hand, the US is suggesting we’re right to spend nearly five percent of GDP on defence; on the other, they are warning us that if we aspire to sustained economic growth to fund such efforts, we’ll also need to curb profits from trade with China – Washington’s primary security challenge.
Eighteen months earlier, Joe Biden’s National Security Advisor, Jake Sullivan, told the Brookings Institution that in the 1990s, after the Soviet Union’s collapse, the world embraced a global order where great powers ceased to be adversaries and capital flowed freely across borders. That order no longer exists, and the situation demands a fresh approach:
‘[W]e’re returning to a tradition that made American international leadership such a durable force, what Alexis de Tocqueville called “interest rightly understood.” The notion that it’s in our own self-interest to strengthen our partners and sustain a fair economic system that helps all of us prosper. (…) It would be a mistake to attempt to return to the Cold War paradigm of almost no trade, including technological trade, among geopolitical rivals.’ [2]
These words make it clear that, in the view of our key allies, Poland stumbled into the global capitalist boom of the 1990s by chance. Now, we are fortunate to stand with freedom-loving, democratic nations locked in a deadly serious struggle waged with economic tools.
The world has changed, and Poland has little time left to renew the social contract rooted in a state security strategy – one based not just on military might but also on economic resilience – to avoid once again falling victim to the winds of history.
The rise of populist movements in democracies has been blamed on almost everything: social inequalities, technological progress, cultural shifts and the weakness of elites. There’s likely a grain of truth in each explanation.
Yet, few can pinpoint why populist political parties have surged in prominence over the last 30-40 years despite having similar fuel in earlier eras. The answer to one of the 21st century’s most pressing questions lies in the mid-20th century.
It’s a question of how to effectively marginalise an inherent social trait: susceptibility to simple, popular promises and criticism of ruling elites – a trait exploited by every shrewd strategist in the art of war for centuries. The radicalism of populists and the resulting internal divisions weaken resistance to hostile actions over time, undermining the credibility of a defensive stance and practically inviting attack.
So how do we effectively push populism into a corner?
In the 20th century, populism was sidelined by blending two goals: prosperity and defence. Shared values cemented economic ties. Under America’s leadership, the West in the latter half of the century defined economic security by confining wealth creation within the boundaries of military alliances.
Western leaders held that you don’t trade with enemies as a rule, and an ally is someone willing to pay their dues for a seat at the security table. At scale, this strategy not only delivered remarkable economic results and solidified alliances – it also convinced societies that populists had no better offer.
Returning to the question of how economic security shields democracy from radicals: Can 21st-century Poland provide a compelling answer to marginalising populism? Only partially. While it has managed well recently and continues to cope, it lacks a clear vision for the future. A strategy is needed.
On 15 October 2023, right-wing populism lost after eight years in power, but it could return. Many argue the Law and Justice (PiS) project collapsed because it undermined the rule of law, further stripped women of reproductive rights and spewed hatred at parts of society. These are significant and likely reasons for its defeat, but they weren’t the most decisive for most voters.
Populist sentiment was largely tempered by increasingly desperate and ineffective attacks on Poland’s economic security – especially the funds that drive development and distance us from post-colonial reliance on Russia.
A prime example of such subversion was the PiS government, largely through the former Justice Minister Zbigniew Ziobro’s allies, blocking – under the guise of defending sovereignty – European investment funds for Poland. [3]
The danger of such moves lies in driving a wedge between democratic self-determination and prosperity – two of the three pillars, alongside security, of our social contract for a democratic Poland rooted in the EU and NATO.
Separating these issues lets autocrats, like Russia’s rulers, govern with impunity, justifying societal costs as necessary for sovereignty’s defence. So far, Poles aren’t buying it. Ziobro’s actions became a factor in demobilising PiS’s local activists, who saw the government’s moves as a threat to economic security from the perspective of their towns and counties.
PiS regional leaders knew the lack of investment funds would cost them votes. The 15 October Coalition’s offer was straightforward: Thanks to our international ties and alliances, European funds for investment and prosperity would be unlocked. And they were – despite judicial reforms still needing time. That time must be used wisely.
The Western world stands like a tripod on three legs: democracy, security and capitalism. Yet, it has no shortage of enemies seeking to destabilise this balance, deliberately targeting one leg to topple the system.
Moscow, and increasingly Beijing, actively meddle in Europe’s democratic processes – from manipulating media and social actors to influencing political leaders – to undermine the democratic legitimacy of sovereign policy. Russia’s actions are no surprise, often crude and at times brutal. China’s influence strategies, however, are subtler, designed as a ‘long-term investment’ with effects that emerge gradually. Instead of building liberal democracy globally, we now must defend it at home – a dramatic shift in the last decade.
Just as geopolitics has caught up with democracy, prompting renewed talk of democratic security, geo-economics has become a tool of influence and coercion in the hands of Russia and China, pursuing political ambitions through capital, production and resource control. Freedom has always had a price, and we’re being reminded of it now. Is Europe ready to pay for it?
For Europe, the days of ‘cheap security from the US, cheap energy from Russia, and cheap production from China’ are over, as Constanze Stelzenmüller famously observed.
Times have changed – we’re no longer trying to catch up with Europe but co-creating the Union. Poland, as an actor, has a role to play and shares responsibility for shaping the EU’s strategy, rooted in our core Polish and European interests. There’s a price to be paid for that.
Over the past 30 years, Poland built capitalism without capital. This was possible not just because liberal democracy triumphed as the 20th century’s sole victorious ideology. Polish capitalism grew as fast as global defence spending shrank. George H.W. Bush and Margaret Thatcher dubbed this trend the ‘peace dividend’ – an economic bonus from the post-1989 era of security.
Though a decade later America launched its war on terror, with us, newly minted NATO members, at its side, we were part of a trend that denied the realities of hard power politics. Alongside Germany, we suspended conscription – Poland in 2010, Germany in 2011 – and cut defence spending. In 1980, West Germany spent 3% of its GDP on defence; by the Berlin Wall’s fall, it was 2.5%. In 2023, it was just 1.57%.
Economies boomed, security melted away, but we and the West seemed blind to it. Before Russia, with China’s backing, invaded Ukraine, we revelled in every gain of toothless capitalism – despite the Tiananmen Square massacre, crushed on the same day as Poland’s historic 4 June 1989 elections; Russia’s brutal wars in Chechnya; its invasion of Georgia in 2008; and the annexation of Crimea in 2014.
As a result, we grew wealthy within the Western alliance – though the average Pole still has ten times less wealth than a Dutch person, six times less than a German, and twenty times less than an American. Meanwhile, our shared communist foes amassed wealth too, never abandoning their aggressive designs.
In summary, the last three decades rested on the doctrine of globalism – a strategy prioritising partnerships and downplaying military might in international affairs.
After the Soviet Union’s collapse, the world was effectively dominated by the US. Pax Americana was an era of surging economic cooperation spanning nearly all nations, marked by a dramatic drop in poverty but also deepening global inequalities. This success carried the seeds of its own undoing.
The prevailing view held that profit was paramount, and no one would act against their own interests. Economic interdependence was seen as a guarantor of rapprochement, minimising the likelihood of war. After all, it worked brilliantly in Europe, where the European Union became history’s greatest peace and economic project – and a highly successful one at that.
The mercantilist assumption of free trade seemed sound for a long time. Everyone grew richer at an unprecedented pace, especially nations previously trapped by inefficient systems and isolation. Only a handful, like Cuba and North Korea, clung to old regimes, falling further behind.
A side effect of this rapid enrichment in developing countries was the stagnation of wages for the middle class in developed nations due to deindustrialisation. This was masked by expanding debt, leading to cyclical crises.
Meanwhile, capitalism, unburdened by ideological pressure from communism, had no incentive to bolster the state regardless of individual prosperity – many of its tools and institutions were dismantled over the past 30 years.
Growing unease, rooted in a lack of security, simmered until it erupted in a wave of support for populists, who channelled discontent toward globalist practices, international institutions and norms like the rule of law, as well as migration, which globalism had opened to historical highs.
These same populists authored Brexit, scuppered US-EU free trade talks, and fuelled myriad other woes. Though their rise slowed in recent European elections, they retain strong support, potentially paving the way for dominance – especially with funding from the West’s foes.
Thus, the peace dividend expanded the benefits of cooperation and exchange. [5] But reducing the risk of a global conflict led many nations, including Poland, to abandon conscription.
Yet, the West’s adversaries, like Russia and China, rebuilt from their communist-era collapse. Their economic systems were unconventional by Western standards, and some practices were dubious. Still, the system churned on, delighting Western corporations with cheap raw materials and affordable goods from low-cost labour. Intellectual property theft – initially dismissed as primitive – grew increasingly brazen.
Meanwhile, trade and investment openness often favoured one side. Protectionism in developing countries might have a legitimate basis, but for China and Russia, it’s not about safeguarding industries – it’s about preserving political dominance over their economies. Now a decade old, China’s ‘Made in China 2025’ plan has reached a critical juncture: it’s led to overproduction and inefficiency in Beijing, but more alarmingly, it’s undermining advanced manufacturing in countries China views as adversaries. This economic approach poses a clear security threat to the West.[6]
Stretched supply chains, though highly efficient, left few countries able to produce essentials domestically or regionally. In globalism’s framework, this was an expected outcome. However, these economic ties became so entangled that both sides stood to lose heavily. While such losses seem intolerable in democracies, they’re acceptable in dictatorships, where dissent can be suppressed, maybe even indefinitely, through repression.
Though signs of globalism’s end were long evident, Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine delivered its death knell. The assumption that shared prosperity trumped all proved false. Russia seems willing to bear any cost to pursue imperial aims. Untangling its economy from the West’s was swift, violent and painful – though less so than feared in the West or portrayed by Russian propaganda.
Europe didn’t freeze, but Germany for three years sank into stagnation with no easy exit in sight. All faced the costs of a massive energy crisis. Russia suffered far worse – its economy nearly collapsed and continues to slide into the abyss. Yet, this hasn’t altered its goals or methods. Putin bets his economy can outlast Western resolve. So far, he’s miscalculated. Time will tell how long his resolve will hold, but something must give.
This shock prompted reflection on a Chinese attack on Taiwan. There’s no doubt the fallout would be far greater. Russia’s energy is a simple commodity, replaceable at a higher cost. Severing supply chains with China would paralyse industries for years. China would face equal collapse, but it has long worked to mitigate that risk. Beijing already started to impose sanctions on us, curbing exports of key minerals.
This reveals how foolish the West has been in geo-economics. We let ourselves be robbed, destabilised and made dependent on hostile forces, empowering their resurgence. We assumed shared economic interests would enforce international rules. They didn’t – many actors broke them with impunity, met by scant Western response.
One attempted fix is isolationism and retreat from global ties – Trump’s doctrine. But that’s a mistake. International cooperation is beneficial, and autarky is a fantasy at today’s economic development level. Still, the international order can’t rely solely on goodwill and mutual gain. It must be partnership backed by strength.
Partnership backed by strength isn’t new. In Geopolitics and Democracy: The Western Liberal Order from Foundation to Fracture, Peter Trubowitz outlines four approaches to international order, based on the will to build it and the emphasis on security investment. Isolationism – retreating and cutting security spending, as in ‘let the world burn’ – was Ukraine’s failed gambit. Seeking neutrality and avoiding threats, it nearly collapsed, fighting now for survival. War came anyway; weakness invited aggression.
Retreating from the world while heavily investing in security often leads to authoritarianism. Russia and, to a degree, China took this path. They reaped global openness’s benefits while staying largely closed, funnelling gains into militaries, security services, surveillance and dissent-crushing.
This model brought regime stability, trading social peace for ruthless suppression. But corruption renders it inefficient, and structural flaws eventually threaten power.
Dictators then lash outward. Putin’s used this consolidation tactic for decades – from Chechnya to Ukraine. The latter, though, was too ambitious – likely Russia’s last such venture. China’s mounting woes raise fears of a similar scenario in Asia, perhaps the Taiwan Strait, within a decade.
Collaboration without security focus is the globalism described earlier – appealing and fruitful, but only with good-faith partners. With hidden or hostile agendas, it’s a gamble. We’re learning how much.
Strength supporting order feels a bit like how things worked during the Cold War. Global teamwork and solid institutions are essential for our prosperity and progress. Over time, we got organisations like the IMF, World Bank, EU, NATO, NAFTA, OECD, WTO and plenty of others. But the catch was, only nations sharing a core set of beliefs could join the group.
However, this setup might have started fading when China joined the WTO in 2001. Meanwhile, the Western alliance wasn’t shy about showing its power – standing up for West Berlin, helping anti-communist groups, or applying economic pressure through things like the Star Wars project. It’s like extending a friendly hand, but with a firm hint of what happens if the deal’s crossed.
The world is less welcoming and driven by different arguments than we had hoped. There is no point in lamenting – it’s time to correct our mistakes, especially in geo-economics.
First, we must clearly define allies, enemies and third parties. Many nations still treat this as taboo, clinging to hopes of restoring the status quo, betting tighter economic ties with adversaries will validate initial assumptions. This only amplifies inevitable losses.
Second, we must set safe levels of engagement and interdependence for each group. Deals with foes are possible, but we need to know their scale, frequency and scope. We also need to decide which areas require full control.
The next, painful step is auditing current ties and aligning them with our goals – known today as decoupling or derisking. State intervention in economic freedom is inevitable; profit’s primacy won’t let corporations retreat from overreach until it’s too late.
Third, we must wisely invest in our security. This means building our armed forces – materially and in personnel – likely reinstating conscription, but focused on training and readiness, no pointless time-wasting as before. It’s also securing military supply chains. Equally critical is stability – social and political.
For this, society must grasp the threats we face. Even with war on our doorstep, we feel safe – too safe. This awareness is key to countering hostile efforts to polarise, destabilise and promote forces that erode alliance solidarity. A divided, bickering society and a fractured EU are Putin’s and Xi’s dreams, ensuring weak, tardy crisis responses. Citizens must also understand why security investment matters – and it’s costly. Yet, they can’t bear those costs alone.
Poland thus faces renewing its social contract, with clear principles outlining the gains and costs of an economic security strategy. This may be the only way to starve extremist groups of oxygen.
This summer, post-presidential elections, it’s time to update our core national security doctrine. It can’t be an endless list of wishes and platitudes but a document legible to every citizen, where strategic issues encompass economic security, forming the basis for Poles’ minimal consensus on the costs we must collectively bear to thwart our enemies.
Moreover, this strategy must persuade like-minded international partners to work with us. Ultimately, a new economic development paradigm should yield military strength and social cohesion – partnership backed by strength.
Sources
[1] ‘A Trump adviser on how the international economic system should change,’ 23 October 2024, The Economist, https://www.economist.com/by-invitation/2024/10/23/theinternational-economic-system-needs-a-readjustmentwrites-scott-bessent
[2] Remarks by Jake Sullivan, National Security Advisor to President Biden, at the Brookings Institution, 23 October 2024, https://web.archive.org/web/20250118083835/https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/speeches-remarks/2024/10/23/remarks-byapnsa-jake-sullivan-at-the-brookings-institution/
[3] Wojciech Przybylski, ‘Poland won’t get EU funds until 2024,’ 21 September 2022, Publica, https://publica.pl/teksty/polska-nie-dostanie-pieniedzy-z-ue-do-2024-r-70140.html
[4] ‘Europe on the Edge,’ Publica, https://publica.pl/programy/europa-na-krawedzi
[5] Maria Demertzis, ‘Repurposing the peace dividend,’ 26 April 2022, Bruegel, https://www.bruegel.org/comment/repurposing-peace-dividend
[6] James McBride and Andrew Chatzky, ‘Is ‘Made in China 2025’ a Threat to Global Trade?,’ 13 May 2019, Council on Foreign Relations, https://www.cfr.org/backgrounder/made-china-2025-threat-global-trad
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This text is from the issue of Res Publica Nowa titled ‘Economic Security, You Fool!’ released in March.
The Polish version of this editorial can be found here.
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