US-European divergence of cultural values: will it affect the transatlantic alliance?

Friday 13 February 2026

In February 1949, when negotiations were underway that would culminate in the signing of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization in Washington, the Atlantic community imagined itself as something more than a military pact. The North Atlantic Treaty, signed in April of that year, was framed as a compact of shared civilisation — an alliance of liberal democracies determined to prevent the return of continental war and to contain the expansion of Soviet power. For much of the Cold War the assumption of common political and social values between the United States and Western Europe was so axiomatic that it scarcely required articulation.

Yet in 2026 the picture appears more complicated. The United States, or at least large segments of her electorate, has shifted in a direction often described as conservative — socially, culturally and in some respects economically nationalist. Europe, by contrast, governed largely by centrist coalitions and social democratic parties in Berlin, Paris and Brussels, projects what might be described as a mainstream liberal orthodoxy — expansive welfare states, regulatory activism in areas such as climate policy and digital governance, and a self-conscious attachment to multilateralism. The question arises whether these trajectories represent superficial political oscillations or a deeper divergence in values — and, if the latter, whether the transatlantic defence alignment can endure unscathed.

The historical foundation of the alliance

The transatlantic alliance was never based upon perfect ideological symmetry. The United States in the 1950s was socially conservative by contemporary standards; much of Western Europe was rebuilding from fascism and colonial collapse. France oscillated between republican fragility and Gaullist nationalism. The United Kingdom was dismantling her empire while constructing a welfare state. The Federal Republic of Germany was an experiment in constitutional reconstruction. Yet what bound these disparate societies was a common constitutional grammar: representative democracy, the rule of law, market-based economies and a belief — however imperfectly realised — in individual liberty.

During the Cold War, external threat masked internal differences. The presence of Soviet divisions in East Germany, the nuclear stand-off and crises from Berlin to Cuba imposed discipline upon the alliance. Even sharp disagreements — such as France’s temporary withdrawal from NATO’s integrated command in 1966 — did not sever the underlying strategic logic. The United States provided the nuclear umbrella; Europe provided territory, manpower and political legitimacy.

After 1991 when the Soviet Union collapsed, the alliance lost its defining adversary. NATO reinvented herself through enlargement and expeditionary missions, from the Balkans to Afghanistan. Yet the shared sense of existential peril diminished. Without a common threat of annihilation, political differences became more visible.

Contours of divergence

It would be simplistic to speak of “a conservative America” and “a liberal Europe” as monolithic entities. The United States remains ideologically plural; Europe contains strong nationalist currents from Hungary to Italy. Nevertheless certain patterns have emerged.

In the United States a substantial political movement emphasises sovereignty, scepticism towards supranational institutions, border control and cultural traditionalism. There is impatience with what is perceived as European free-riding on defence expenditure, and suspicion of regulatory regimes emanating from Brussels that affect American corporations. In Europe, by contrast, the dominant policy culture embraces regulatory harmonisation, environmental transition, expansive social protections and a preference for consensus-based diplomacy.

These differences manifest in concrete disputes: trade policy, digital regulation, climate commitments and attitudes towards migration. Even language diverges. American political discourse increasingly frames issues in terms of cultural contestation; European discourse prefers technocratic vocabulary and incremental reform.

The philosophical gap should not be overstated. Both sides remain committed to electoral democracy and constitutional order. Neither is contemplating authoritarian governance as a system. Yet the tone of politics differs. American conservatism today often carries a populist inflection, distrustful of elite institutions. European mainstream politics, even when electorally fragile, tends to defend institutional continuity — from the European Commission to the European Court of Human Rights.

Implications for defence alignment

The durability of the alliance depends less upon cultural affinity than upon strategic calculus. If Russia remains revisionist and assertive — as her invasion of Ukraine has demonstrated — then both Washington and European capitals share an interest in deterrence. Geography has not changed. Europe remains vulnerable to instability on her eastern flank; the United States benefits from preventing the emergence of a hostile hegemon in Eurasia.

However political divergence can erode solidarity in subtler ways. A conservative-leaning United States may demand greater burden-sharing, threatening partial retrenchment if European defence budgets do not rise. Europe meanwhile may accelerate discussions of “strategic autonomy”, seeking to reduce dependence upon American logistics, intelligence and nuclear guarantees. Such moves need not be antagonistic, but they alter the psychological architecture of the alliance.

There is also the matter of legitimacy. NATO has long justified itself as a community of values. If publics on either side begin to view the other as morally alien — whether because of divergent social policies, judicial philosophies or cultural debates — then the emotional substrate of alliance weakens. Defence treaties require popular consent, especially in democracies where parliaments authorise deployments and expenditures.

At the same time, crises can reforge unity. The Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 revived NATO’s relevance with unexpected speed. Defence budgets rose; Finland and Sweden sought membership; American troops returned to Eastern Europe in larger numbers. Shared threat often overrides ideological nuance. It is not affection but necessity that most reliably sustains military alliances.

A structural or cyclical divergence?

One must ask whether the present divergence is structural or cyclical. The United States has oscillated before between internationalism and retrenchment, between progressive reform and conservative revival. Europe too has swung between federalist enthusiasm and nationalist resistance. The transatlantic relationship has survived Suez, Vietnam, Iraq and trade wars. Each episode was described at the time as a rupture; none proved terminal.

Demographic and economic factors complicate predictions. Europe’s ageing populations and slower growth may intensify reliance upon American security guarantees. Conversely American strategic attention increasingly pivots towards the Indo-Pacific, where China represents a systemic competitor. If Washington’s resources are finite, she will expect Europe to shoulder greater responsibility for her own neighbourhood.

The alliance therefore may evolve into a more transactional arrangement — less infused with rhetorical celebration of shared civilisation, more grounded in pragmatic coordination. That would represent a psychological shift from the early Cold War vision, but not necessarily a dissolution.

Conclusions

The suggestion that a conservative-leaning United States and a mainstream Europe now inhabit fundamentally divergent social and political universes is exaggerated. Differences are real, and in certain policy domains they are widening. Yet the core constitutional commitments of both sides remain recognisably liberal-democratic.

Defence alignment since 1949 has rested upon a convergence of interests as much as upon shared values. So long as external threats persist and the costs of disunity remain high, the Atlantic alliance is likely to endure — perhaps noisily, perhaps with periodic recrimination, but intact. The North Atlantic Treaty was not a marriage of sentiment; it was a compact forged in hard strategic necessity. That necessity has not disappeared.

If the alliance falters in the decades ahead, it is more likely to do so because interests genuinely diverge — for example, if the United States disengages from European security or if Europe constructs a parallel defence identity that supplants NATO — than because of disagreements over cultural policy. Values matter; but in international politics, interests decide.