Good War, Bad War

In Brussels, European leaders at theirt highest level have once again said no. No to Donald Trump, no to getting involved in the war against Iran, no to assuming strategic risks in the Strait of Hormuz. Yes, instead, to diplomacy, de-escalation, and multilateralism.

Nothing new. And yet, deeply revealing.

This week’s European Council meeting has only confirmed an uncomfortable reality: Europe has decided that there are good wars and bad wars. And, more importantly, that this distinction does not depend on facts, but on its own willingness to act.

The war in Ukraine is, for Europe, the good war. The war against Iran, the bad war.

And within that distinction lies the core of its strategic contradiction.

Ukraine: the necessary war

Since 2022, Europe has mobilized hundreds of billions of euros to sustain Ukraine in the face of Russian aggression. It has financed the Ukrainian state, supplied weapons, and absorbed significant economic and political costs. The narrative is clear: Ukraine is defending sovereignty, international law, and the European order.

In that framework, the war is legitimate. Even necessary.

Europe not only supports it—it needs it to reaffirm its political identity. Ukraine has become the last reflection of a Europe that wants to see itself as a defender of principles.

But even in this case, its role has been limited. Europe pays. The United States fights. Europe sustains. The United States decides. The war in Ukraine has revealed a reality many prefer to ignore; without Washington, Kyiv could not hold.

Even so, Europe has found in Ukraine a comfortable cause. A distant war, with a clear enemy and a manageable cost. A war that does not require existential decisions.

Iran: the uncomfortable war

None of this applies to Iran.

Iran is not a normal state. It is not a conventional power with limited interests and predictable behavior. It is a theocratic, revolutionary regime with hegemonic ambitions that has spent decades destabilizing its surroundings. It has systematically deceived the international community regarding its clandestine nuclear program, financed and directed terrorist attacks on European soil, armed networks of violence across the Middle East, and directly attacked Israel.

Today, it launches indiscriminate missile strikes against civilian populations, in open violation of the laws of war, and employs prohibited weapons such as cluster munitions. This is not just another actor in the international system, but a regime that challenges its basic rules and threatens regional and global security.

And yet Europe insists: this is not our war. But it is.

When the United States and Israel launched their offensive, Europe reacted with discomfort. It was not consulted. It does not control the situation. And, above all, it does not want to get involved.

The response has been immediate and consistent: this is not our war. The EU’s High Representative for Foreign Affairs, Kaja Kallas, has made it clear. Europe favors diplomacy. It seeks a negotiated solution. It rejects escalation.

She has even introduced a revealing argument: the conflict with Iran is troubling, among other reasons, because it could divert attention from Ukraine. In other words, the problem is not only the war itself, but that it competes with the “correct” war.

At this point, the contradiction ceases to be strategic and becomes something more serious: a form of voluntary blindness.

Strategic incoherence

If Europe believes in international law, global stability, and the defense of its own interests, how can it claim that one war is legitimate and another is not, when both directly affect its security?

, cuando ambas afectan directamente a su seguridad?

The Strait of Hormuz is not a remote theater. It is a vital artery of the global energy system. Its disruption would directly impact Europe’s economy, its prices, and its stability.

Europe depends on what happens there. And yet it behaves as if it does not.

This is not ignorance. It is a conscious decision not to see. Europe does not distinguish between just and unjust wars. It distinguishes between comfortable wars and uncomfortable ones.

Ukraine allows Europe to act without fully bearing the consequences of war. Iran does not. Ukraine is a war that can be financed. Iran is a war that requires power.

Europe has chosen comfort.

The Atlantic schism

This is where the gap with the United States becomes clear.

For Washington, the conflict with Iran is part of a broader strategic logic: control of routes, deterrence, balance of power. For Europe, it is an external problem to be resolved through negotiation.

Two visions of the world. Two ways of understanding power.

As in other moments of Western history, this is not merely a tactical disagreement, but a deeper divergence. Rome and Constantinople did not stop speaking overnight; they stopped understanding each other.

Europe and the United States appear to be moving along that same path.

The United States acts as a power. Europe acts as a regulator.

And when a regulator faces a world of powers, its margin for action disappears.

The cost of blindness

Europe believes it can sustain both positions: support one war and reject another, defend the international order while avoiding involvement in its defense, benefit from American security while at the same time defying its decisions.

It cannot. Because the world that is emerging does not allow for such ambiguity.

Europe’s refusal to engage in Hormuz is not just a disagreement with Trump. It is a message. And messages have consequences. The United States may interpret that “no” as a lack of commitment. As a signal that Europe wants the benefits of the alliance, but not its costs. And in international politics, perception is decisive.

Europe is not choosing between war and peace. It is choosing between confronting reality or continuing to deny it.

Dependence and suicide

Europe not only lacks strategic will. It lacks autonomy.

Its security depends on the United States. Its technological architecture rests on American companies. Its trade and economic growth are shaped by global dynamics it does not control. Even its political culture—its values and institutions—has for decades been protected under the Atlantic umbrella.

Europe is not an independent actor. It is a dependent actor behaving as if it were not.

And that may be its greatest contradiction.

Because in this context, maintaining the relationship with the United States is not a political option. It is a strategic imperative. This is not about personal affinities or ideological sympathy toward Trump. It is about survival.

Yet what we are seeing in Europe today is the opposite. Leaders who trivialize the Atlantic relationship, who subordinate it to domestic calculations or ideological biases, who play with distance as if it had no consequences. Who believe—or pretend to believe—that Europe can afford to choose.

It cannot.

In the world that is emerging—a world of great powers, spheres of influence, and open competition—decisions carry a weight that Europe seems to have forgotten.

Choosing China over the United States is not a strategic alternative. It is an illusion. Falling at the mercy of Russia is not balance. It is vulnerability.

Losing America is not an adjustment. It is suicide.