The 2026 NATO summit is now history, though it wasn’t exactly historic. If you were hoping for a rekindling of common purpose and a renewed sense of trans-Atlantic solidarity, you have my sympathies. If you thought the meeting in Ankara would mark NATO’s death knell, perhaps sparked by a typical Trumpian temper tantrum, you didn’t get that either. Instead, what transpired was a deliberate and mostly successful effort to ignore the obvious tensions, avoid big headlines, and kick the can down the road.

But nobody should be under any illusions: The alliance is a sick puppy. When every NATO summit convenes amid fears that its strongest member will blow it all up and withdraw and then ends with a collective sigh of relief that this outcome was averted, it’s hardly a reassuring sign of strategic alignment or shared values.

The 2026 NATO summit is now history, though it wasn’t exactly historic. If you were hoping for a rekindling of common purpose and a renewed sense of trans-Atlantic solidarity, you have my sympathies. If you thought the meeting in Ankara would mark NATO’s death knell, perhaps sparked by a typical Trumpian temper tantrum, you didn’t get that either. Instead, what transpired was a deliberate and mostly successful effort to ignore the obvious tensions, avoid big headlines, and kick the can down the road.

But nobody should be under any illusions: The alliance is a sick puppy. When every NATO summit convenes amid fears that its strongest member will blow it all up and withdraw and then ends with a collective sigh of relief that this outcome was averted, it’s hardly a reassuring sign of strategic alignment or shared values.

It’s tempting to blame trans-Atlantic tensions solely on U.S. President Donald Trump (more on that below), but NATO’s core problem is structural. Military alliances are not ends in themselves; they are simply a means by which states seek to make themselves more secure in the face of a common threat. And no matter your view of Russia today, NATO’s members do not face the same clarifying, focus-the-mind threat environment that existed when the alliance formed back in 1949. Russia is a worrisome neighbor, to be sure, but it is not a global superpower like the old Soviet Union; concerns that it poses a serious hegemonic threat to Europe are risible. NATO’s European members do not fully agree on how dangerous Moscow really is, and it is not clear whether the Trump administration thinks of Russia as a threat at all. The rise of China has been drawing U.S. strategic attention away from Europe for some time now because China is a genuine peer competitor—and Russia isn’t—and because Asia is now a bigger economic arena. I am not saying Europe is unimportant or that NATO is of no value, only that the glue binding Europe and the United States together was eroding long before Trump got into politics.

Given the above, it has been obvious that NATO needed a new division of labor, with its European members gradually assuming primary responsibility for their own defense and Washington focusing more resources and attention on Asia. Ideally, this shift would have occurred over a decade or so and without rancor, the United States helping its allies to rebuild their own forces and working with them to adapt to changing battlefield requirements. A rebalanced NATO would still have been a major asset for the United States and the other members, in part by helping to keep Europe quiet—which benefits everyone—and because there are many scenarios (including conflicts in Africa and the Middle East) where working together with partners is more effective than going it alone.

Unfortunately, the possibility of a smooth and amicable adjustment was precluded when Trump got reelected in 2024 and then adopted an explicitly predatory approach toward the United States’ European allies. Trump’s disdain for Europe has a long history, as evidenced by his false claims that the European Union was created to “screw the United States” and by his contemptuous treatment of European officials, including those he once supported, such as Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. His repeated threats to seize Greenland, imposition of arbitrary and punitive tariffs, and recurring flirtations with Russian President Vladimir Putin all underscore Trump’s paper-thin commitment to European security and well-being. The hostile speech given by U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance at the Munich Security Conference in 2025 (and echoed in an only slightly more tactful form by Secretary of State Marco Rubio this February) was in line with Trump’s attitudes as well. Even the premature, forced retirement of U.S. Army Gen. Christopher Donahue, a distinguished officer who was highly regarded in Europe, can be seen as reflection of the administration’s disdain.

To be fair, Trump and his predecessors were right to complain about Europe’s previously inadequate defense efforts, and one can even argue that his bull-in-a-china-shop approach helped overcome decades of European complacency. Europe has now embarked on its most significant armament effort since World War II—an effort that would be more likely to succeed if the United States had not declared economic war on its allies and started an actual war with Iran. In addition to costing U.S. taxpayers a bundle, these blunders hurt Europe’s economies at precisely the moment when they were trying to replace the U.S. role.

Trump also believed that the United States was shouldering too much of the burden backing Ukraine, but the EU and individual European states have stepped up there, too. He continues to complain that NATO members didn’t bail him out in the Persian Gulf, but what did he expect after he launched a foolish war without consulting them, only to watch it blow up in his face? Why should they risk their navies to open the Strait of Hormuz when the U.S. Navy hasn’t been able to accomplish that task?

So, where does this leave NATO today? For starters, Europe’s leaders clearly understand that the U.S. commitment is no longer reliable and that eventually they will be mostly on their own. Even if Americans were to elect a die-hard Atlanticist in 2028 (which means neither Vance nor Rubio), the structural forces that have weakened the alliance would still be present, and Europeans could never be sure that some new version of Trump might not eventually gain the White House. Their own domestic politics and the usual problems of collective action have hampered their efforts to reduce dependence on the United States, but they are not going to stop.

Second, the Ankara summit also showed that Europeans increasingly view Trump as someone to be taken neither literally nor seriously. They understand that he will play to the cameras and go off on unhinged rants from time to time—such as his meaningless threat to cut off U.S. trade with Spain—but ignoring his bluster while reducing dependence on the United States is the smart response. I agree with Paul Krugman: U.S. allies increasingly see Trump as a doddering, rich uncle whom everyone tolerates because they want to remain in his will. But as Nathalie Tocci of Johns Hopkins SAIS Europe told the New York Times, “[Trump’s] repeated insults and empty threats are wearing off.” As we saw in Ankara, European leaders now nod politely, offer Trump the meaningless flattery he still craves, ignore most of what he says, and keep their own counsel.

At this point, European countries’ central goal is to gain the time and U.S. weaponry they need to mount an adequate defense capability. They also want to keep the United States from abandoning Ukraine completely so that Russia keeps hemorrhaging money and men and eventually ends the war on terms acceptable to Kyiv. Trump’s pledge to license Ukrainian production of Patriot air defense missiles was welcome news, therefore, even though it will be years before Ukraine can produce any of the sophisticated missiles. Why? Simply because it conveyed a more favorable attitude toward Kyiv than Trump had exhibited in the past. And although it is hard to have much confidence in U.S. nuclear guarantees—does anyone seriously think Trump would risk Mar-a-Lago to defend any part of Europe?—maintaining at least a semblance of amity can still provide a measure of deterrence. Even if no rational leader would start a nuclear war solely to defend a foreign ally, potential aggressors must worry that a conventional conflict might escalate due to accidents or miscalculation. Given the enormous costs that nuclear use would entail, threats that leave “something to chance” can still be sufficient.

In short, the main purpose of the Ankara summit was to be as uneventful as possible. Mission accomplished. But don’t mistake it for evidence of NATO’s robust good health.

This post is part of FP’s ongoing coverage of the Trump administration. Follow along here.