TEHRAN – “Do you still believe that by helping the United States commit its crimes we will be safe?” Irene Montero, Spain’s representative in the European Parliament, asked her colleagues this week. It was not a rhetorical flourish so much as an indictment.Her remarks followed leaked private WhatsApp messages belonging to the French president, in which he sought to make his American counterpart reconsider his position on Greenland, suggesting the two countries could instead do “great things” together in Iran and Syria. The implication was clear: cooperation in Washington’s foreign ventures—however illegal—might buy Europe security elsewhere.That assumption, Montero argued, is not only morally bankrupt but strategically suicidal. Helping a powerful state commit illegal acts against others does not protect Europe, she said; it merely sets a precedent that eventually turns inward. She urged European leaders “to have some dignity” in their dealings with Washington—a plea that remains far from mainstream in European politics.Yet this warning is hardly new. For decades, countries on the receiving end of American pressure have cautioned Europe that indulgence would come at a cost. Iran, in particular, has been making that case since at least 2018, when President Donald Trump withdrew from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), the nuclear agreement painstakingly negotiated with European participation. Europe protested politely, then acquiesced as Washington launched its “maximum pressure” campaign.The pattern continued: When the United States violated international law by striking Iranian nuclear facilities in June 2025, Europe’s response was not condemnation, but praise. Germany’s chancellor described American and Israeli actions as Europe’s “dirty work.” When Washington wanted to bring back pre-JCPOA United Nations sanctions through a controversial “snapback” mechanism, Europe became the one to make it happen. And when the U.S. and Israel trained and armed terrorist cells that decimated Iranian cities this month—portraying them as part of legitimate protests over sanctions-induced economic hardship —European governments amplified the narrative. At no point did Europe meaningfully attempt to restrain its ally. Instead, it endorsed, excused, or normalized the behavior.History offers a parallel. In 1938, when Hitler’s forces marched into Austria and annexed it without resistance, Europe did nothing, signaling that it lacked the will to enforce the post–World War I order. Months later, it allowed the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia, despite explicit guarantees of its security. European leaders believed that sacrificing others would preserve peace at home. What followed, instead, was World War II.Europeans may not have been able to prevent the Anschluss or the seizure of the Sudetenland. But their passivity—and their disregard for treaties—smoothed the path to catastrophe. The same logic applies today. Europe may have struggled to confront the United States over Iran, but by actively assisting or endorsing American violations of international law, it sent a clear message: the so-called rules-based order matters only when Washington chooses to respect it.That message has now been received.Trump has made clear his interest in taking control of Greenland, a territory of Denmark. European governments have condemned the idea, but their protests ring hollow. They have little leverage. Europe’s capital is deeply embedded in the American financial system; its defense architecture depends on U.S. weapons and command structures; its digital infrastructure is hosted by American companies; its economies are tightly bound to the U.S. market.Washington does not need an invasion to get its way. Tariffs, financial pressure, or a withdrawal of support for Ukraine would likely suffice. Europe’s vulnerability is not accidental. It is the result of years spent normalizing American lawlessness and demonstrating a selective commitment to sovereignty and international law.As Iran’s foreign minister, Abbas Araghchi, wrote recently on X, the crisis over Greenland “could not happen to a more deserving continent.”Europe is now living with the consequences of its own choices.
Her remarks followed leaked private WhatsApp messages belonging to the French president, in which he sought to make his American counterpart reconsider his position on Greenland, suggesting the two countries could instead do “great things” together in Iran and Syria. The implication was clear: cooperation in Washington’s foreign ventures—however illegal—might buy Europe security elsewhere.
That assumption, Montero argued, is not only morally bankrupt but strategically suicidal. Helping a powerful state commit illegal acts against others does not protect Europe, she said; it merely sets a precedent that eventually turns inward. She urged European leaders “to have some dignity” in their dealings with Washington—a plea that remains far from mainstream in European politics.
Yet this warning is hardly new. For decades, countries on the receiving end of American pressure have cautioned Europe that indulgence would come at a cost. Iran, in particular, has been making that case since at least 2018, when President Donald Trump withdrew from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), the nuclear agreement painstakingly negotiated with European participation. Europe protested politely, then acquiesced as Washington launched its “maximum pressure” campaign.
The pattern continued: When the United States violated international law by striking Iranian nuclear facilities in June 2025, Europe’s response was not condemnation, but praise. Germany’s chancellor described American and Israeli actions as Europe’s “dirty work.” When Washington wanted to bring back pre-JCPOA United Nations sanctions through a controversial “snapback” mechanism, Europe became the one to make it happen. And when the U.S. and Israel trained and armed terrorist cells that decimated Iranian cities this month—portraying them as part of legitimate protests over sanctions-induced economic hardship —European governments amplified the narrative. At no point did Europe meaningfully attempt to restrain its ally. Instead, it endorsed, excused, or normalized the behavior.
History offers a parallel. In 1938, when Hitler’s forces marched into Austria and annexed it without resistance, Europe did nothing, signaling that it lacked the will to enforce the post–World War I order. Months later, it allowed the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia, despite explicit guarantees of its security. European leaders believed that sacrificing others would preserve peace at home. What followed, instead, was World War II.
Europeans may not have been able to prevent the Anschluss or the seizure of the Sudetenland. But their passivity—and their disregard for treaties—smoothed the path to catastrophe. The same logic applies today. Europe may have struggled to confront the United States over Iran, but by actively assisting or endorsing American violations of international law, it sent a clear message: the so-called rules-based order matters only when Washington chooses to respect it.
That message has now been received.
Trump has made clear his interest in taking control of Greenland, a territory of Denmark. European governments have condemned the idea, but their protests ring hollow. They have little leverage. Europe’s capital is deeply embedded in the American financial system; its defense architecture depends on U.S. weapons and command structures; its digital infrastructure is hosted by American companies; its economies are tightly bound to the U.S. market.
Washington does not need an invasion to get its way. Tariffs, financial pressure, or a withdrawal of support for Ukraine would likely suffice. Europe’s vulnerability is not accidental. It is the result of years spent normalizing American lawlessness and demonstrating a selective commitment to sovereignty and international law.
As Iran’s foreign minister, Abbas Araghchi, wrote recently on X, the crisis over Greenland “could not happen to a more deserving continent.”
Europe is now living with the consequences of its own choices.