Europe complied. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom announced new rounds of military aid. These were not defensive measures—they were geared to strengthen Ukraine’s combat capabilities and further entrench Europe in the machinery of war. French President Emmanuel Macron pledged €2 billion in new arms, describing the move as part of a European peacekeeping initiative. The term was a misnomer. These actions were aligned with escalation, not mediation.

The European escalation coincided with a United Nations-brokered proposal for a 30-day ceasefire, supported by several Global South nations including Brazil, South Africa, and China. Russia rejected the offer, citing its lack of guarantees and accusing Western powers of using it as a cover for Ukrainian rearmament. Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov described the proposal as a “pause for rearmament,” pointing to the absence of diplomatic reciprocity and the persistent dismissal of Russia’s demand for a new security architecture.

President Vladimir Putin, speaking at a February 2025 summit in Belarus, had rejected Western claims that Russia sought to invade NATO countries. He described such accusations as manufactured hysteria designed to keep Europe ideologically aligned with U.S. objectives. Putin reiterated calls for a multipolar world order and security guarantees that include the demilitarisation of NATO’s eastern flank—requests that have been on the table since 2021, but are routinely dismissed by transatlantic leaders.

In the face of public scepticism, European elites continue to justify the conflict through moral binaries: democracy versus autocracy, civilisation versus barbarism. This framing allows governments to bypass scrutiny, criminalise dissent, and redirect national budgets from welfare to warfare. What was once framed as a temporary emergency response has now become an open-ended policy shift.

The economic consequences are unfolding in real time. In the United Kingdom, the slashing of 50,000 civil service jobs is framed as “fiscal efficiency”, even as schools face £500 million in cuts and the NHS enters a state of near-paralysis. France is cutting overseas aid by 35%, while regional governments struggle to fund education, healthcare, and housing. In the Netherlands, higher education and public infrastructure are victims of ongoing austerity. Across the EU, these cuts are not isolated—they represent a coordinated redirection of resources from the social contract into militarised statecraft.