The term Germany’s rearmament no longer belongs in the realm of think-tank speculation or parliamentary white papers. It is here—vast, funded, and under way. With €500 billion of EU money funneled toward German military build-up, and as part of a €1.8 trillion national defense strategy—of which €900 billion has already been authorized by the Bundestag—the numbers speak clearly. Germany is not only recovering strategic ground; it is reclaiming the instruments of hard power.
This is not a matter of tanks and budgets alone. The nature of Germany’s rearmament reflects a decisive return to military leverage in foreign policy—a sharp break from its post-war tradition of economic diplomacy. If this trend persists, it will redefine the power geometry of the continent.
Historical echoes, modern resonance
To understand what is unfolding, context is indispensable. Germany’s 20th-century history is not a backdrop—it is an active force in the European psyche. The legacy of two world wars, triggered in part by German assertiveness, has instilled a durable caution in European defense logic. That caution is now fraying.
This tension is sharply illuminated in the recent work of Paolo Falconio, Member of the Consejo Rector de Honor and Lecturer at the Sociedad de Estudios Internacionales (SEI). In his analysis Il Pericolo del IV Reich (The Danger of the IV Reich), Falconio traces a through-line from Germany’s industrial ambition to its renewed strategic assertiveness, warning that rearmament on this scale is not simply a matter of sovereignty—it is a geopolitical provocation.
Decades of peace lulled European capitals into imagining that the past could not return in a new guise. But the premise that prosperity pacifies geopolitics has proved flawed. The rise of China, the assertiveness of Russia, and the unraveling of transatlantic certainty have brought military strength back into the heart of strategic thinking.
Germany, long content to act as Europe’s economic nucleus, now appears determined to become a geopolitical nerve center. And yet, no nation of comparable historical baggage can make such a transition without stirring anxieties.
From industrial supremacy to strategic muscle
Postwar Germany traded steel for consensus. It built cars, not cannons. But industrial might has always been a latent strategic asset. Unlike most EU states, Germany retains a defense-ready industrial apparatus. Conversion from peace-time production to wartime output is not just feasible—it is efficient.
What sets this moment apart is that economic dominance is no longer enough. German policymakers have realized that supply chains, trade surpluses, and green tech leadership do not deter missiles. The invasion of Ukraine made that point undeniable. In response, Germany’s rearmament has become not only acceptable—but imperative, even patriotic.
The scale, however, exceeds mere deterrence. We are not seeing a defensive posture, but a projection-oriented one. The deployment of permanent forces in Lithuania is just the start. Discussions around a national nuclear capability, once unthinkable, have entered mainstream political debate.
A nuclear whisper grows louder
Outgoing Chancellor Scholz has avoided public alignment with the idea of a German nuclear arsenal, but the discourse has cracked open. Opinion-makers, think tanks, and strategic analysts within Germany now consider it a viable response to a more fragmented NATO and an unreliable American umbrella.
If pursued—even theoretically—this would overturn seventy years of nuclear taboos. France, Europe’s only current nuclear power, would not welcome such a development. Nor would the UK, especially amid wider post-Brexit recalibrations.
Yet if Germany’s rearmament includes nuclear ambition, the deterrence map of Europe will be rewritten. Moscow would almost certainly recalibrate its own deployments, particularly in Kaliningrad and along the Suwałki gap. Such moves could heighten instability rather than prevent it.
Eastern fault lines and the shadow of Ostpolitik
Germany’s strategic gaze often turns east—not only for energy and trade, but for political influence. The historical Ostpolitik, once a policy of reconciliation with the Soviet bloc, is mutating. Today’s version may well involve asserting influence across the east through presence, not partnership.
This risks clashing directly with Russian ambitions in the region. Both powers see Eastern Europe as vital to their security perimeters. Unlike the Cold War, when proxy states served as buffers, the modern battleground is ideological, infrastructural, and increasingly militarized.
The German deployment in Lithuania is framed as protection against Russian aggression. But that narrative also serves to normalize a broader eastward posture. Whether this posture remains defensive is a question of intent—but also of opportunity.
The Franco-British paradox
France and Britain, both nuclear powers with historic global reach, have reacted with notable restraint to Germany’s militarization. One explanation is strategic fatigue. Another, less discussed, is financial pragmatism. A German-funded European army may serve French ambitions without straining French budgets.
Yet such a bargain is inherently unstable. As Germany’s rearmament accelerates, questions of command, interoperability, and strategic priorities will surface. Will a European force built on German money and German industry serve French doctrine or German interest?
Britain, for its part, faces a dilemma. Detached from EU defense structures post-Brexit, it must now engage with a German-led military order from the outside. That may prove diplomatically awkward and strategically risky.
America’s gamble with German power
The United States, traditionally Europe’s security anchor, has viewed Germany’s militarization with cautious encouragement. Washington wants burden-sharing—but may be underestimating the dynamics it is unleashing.
A rearmed Germany with advanced capabilities, financial autonomy, and strategic initiative does not necessarily align with U.S. interests in perpetuity. The presumption that Berlin will act as a junior partner may be rooted more in nostalgia than realism.
Moreover, the U.S. may be underestimating how quickly public opinion in Germany could pivot toward strategic autonomy—especially if American politics veer toward isolationism. In such a case, Germany’s rearmament becomes not a supplement to NATO but an alternative.
Internal contradictions and dangerous coherence
Germany is a democracy, but it is also a federation with deep ideological cleavages. The rise of the far-right AfD in eastern regions, some of which remain economically and culturally distanced from the west, introduces an element of unpredictability.
No country builds the world’s third-largest military force in a political vacuum. Questions of doctrine, leadership, and strategic intent matter. Yet there is little public debate in Germany over the endgame of rearmament. Is it deterrence, autonomy, alliance reinforcement—or something unspoken?
The coherence of the program is its most dangerous feature. It proceeds with budgetary discipline, political consensus, industrial capability, and public indifference. That alignment makes it formidable. It also makes it unaccountable.
Strategic latency turned kinetic
If there is a lesson from recent conflicts—Ukraine included—it is that latency is no longer a buffer. Countries go to war not because they are irrational, but because they believe it is their best available option. Strategic ambiguity can escalate faster than diplomacy can contain it.
Germany’s rearmament, even if conceived as purely defensive, introduces new variables into an already volatile European equation. Its scale, pace, and institutional alignment mean it cannot be ignored, nor contained by outdated treaties or wishful thinking.
In less than a generation, Germany has gone from pacifist power to military architect of Europe’s future. That may be necessary. It may even be stabilizing. But it is also an experiment with no precedent—and no fail-safe.
What matters now is not only what Germany does, but how the rest of Europe responds. That story is being written in defense budgets, industrial policy, military doctrines—and in the quiet assumption that history, after all, does not always repeat. Sometimes it mutates.