It is said that great transformations are born of peace, and great necessities born of war. In Europe today, there is neither peace nor war, but something more troubling—a creeping sense that the era of stability is now behind us.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is no longer an anomaly; it is a turning point. Conflict is no longer hypothetical but ambient. And yet, in this precarious climate, the European Union is pressing ahead with one of the most ambitious policy transformations in its history: the Green Deal.
Launched in 2019 with a flurry of slogans, summits and funding promises, the European Green Deal aims to make the EU the world’s first climate-neutral continent by 2050. It is, in principle, a commendable aspiration. But the timing and the means by which this vision is being pursued invite legitimate scrutiny. With European farmers in open revolt, industries struggling to compete with their American and Chinese rivals, and populist parties gaining ground across the continent, the Green Deal is now under intense political and economic pressure.
And the question must be asked: Should Europe be attempting this monumental shift in the shadow of geopolitical escalation and economic fragility?
The Political Headwinds
The backlash against the Green Deal is no longer confined to the corridors of Brussels. It is being fought in fields, factories and ballot boxes. The most recent European Parliament elections have seen a surge in right-leaning, eurosceptic and agrarian protest parties, many of whom campaigned explicitly against what they see as the Green Deal’s “green tyranny.”
Farmers in Germany, France, and the Netherlands have staged massive protests against environmental regulations they believe threaten their livelihoods. Brussels’ push to reduce pesticide use, rewild agricultural land, and impose stricter emissions targets has been met with fury. These measures, say critics, are drafted by urban technocrats with little understanding of rural life.
Even centrist and centre-right parties, once cautious allies of the climate agenda, are now hedging. The European People’s Party (EPP), the Parliament’s largest grouping, has called for a “regulatory pause” in new green legislation. National leaders are increasingly nervous. Emmanuel Macron, once a poster child of green rhetoric, has pivoted toward a more security- and industry-first posture. In Germany, the fragile coalition is caught between its Green ministers and mounting public dissatisfaction over energy costs.
And then there is the populist surge. In Italy, Giorgia Meloni’s government has skilfully exploited rural anger and industrial anxiety to distance itself from Brussels’ agenda. In Hungary and Poland, environmentalism is dismissed as elite dogma. Even in northern Europe, long a bastion of green politics, support is fraying.
The political objection is not to climate action per se, but to the perceived pace and scope of it—at a time when voters are more worried about inflation, immigration, and war than carbon dioxide.
Economic Implications: The Cost of Transformation
The Green Deal, in its full scope, is a Herculean undertaking. It encompasses everything from energy and transport to agriculture, construction, and finance. Its flagship initiative, the “Fit for 55” package, seeks to cut emissions by 55% from 1990 levels by 2030. That requires unprecedented levels of investment, coordination and sacrifice.
Estimates of the cost vary widely, but the European Commission itself has acknowledged that meeting 2030 climate targets will require an additional €350 billion annually in energy system investments alone. That figure does not include social transition costs, retraining, subsidies or the inevitable economic disruptions.
Crucially, the Green Deal relies heavily on private investment and regulatory coercion. Carbon pricing, emissions trading, and green taxation are designed to steer markets in the right direction. But this approach is vulnerable to economic downturns and political volatility. The European economy, already battered by energy shocks, inflation and global supply chain shifts, is hardly in robust shape. Many businesses are facing an unenviable choice: adapt at great cost, relocate outside the EU, or shut down altogether.
This is not a theoretical concern. BASF, one of Europe’s industrial giants, is reducing its European footprint and expanding in China. Energy-intensive sectors—steel, cement, chemicals—are warning of “green deindustrialisation.” While the EU’s Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism (CBAM) is meant to level the playing field with foreign producers, it risks provoking trade tensions with China and the United States at a time when Europe can ill afford new economic conflicts.
Add to this the fact that China and the US are subsidising their own green transitions more aggressively and more pragmatically. Washington’s Inflation Reduction Act, with its $370 billion in subsidies, has lured European firms across the Atlantic. Europe, bound by state aid rules and budget constraints, finds itself in a straightjacket of its own making.
A Pre-War Europe?
It would be naïve to view the Green Deal in isolation from geopolitics. The world is rearming. NATO is expanding. Russia is not defeated, and China is not dormant. In such a climate, the EU’s strategic vulnerability is horribly exposed—not least its dependence on imported energy, rare earths, and key raw materials.
The shift from fossil fuels to renewables does not end dependence—it changes it. Europe’s solar panels and electric vehicles rely heavily on Chinese supply chains. Wind turbines need rare earth magnets. Hydrogen production requires vast amounts of electricity and infrastructure that do not yet exist.
Energy security, long a footnote in green discussions, is now front and centre. The 2022 gas crisis was a warning. Europe survived by luck, mild winters, and aggressive LNG imports. But the structural issues remain unresolved. Green energy is not yet as reliable or as cheap as fossil fuels. The transition, if rushed, risks undermining Europe’s strategic autonomy.
In wartime—or in its shadow—resilience matters more than virtue.
The Case for Courage
And yet, despite the obstacles, the Green Deal must not be abandoned. It must be rethought, recalibrated, perhaps delayed in parts—but not forsaken. Because in the end, the choice is not between green and grey, but between action and inertia. And inertia is the greater danger.
Climate change is not waiting for political consensus or economic convenience. Southern Europe is already scorched by record droughts. Floods, fires and heatwaves are costing lives and livelihoods. The environmental bill for inaction is rising faster than inflation. Global instability is only compounded by climate-induced migration, food insecurity and resource conflicts.
Moreover, the Green Deal, if executed wisely, offers the possibility of strategic renewal. A cleaner, more self-reliant energy system is not only good for the planet—it is vital for sovereignty. Reducing dependence on Russian gas or Chinese solar panels is not a green fantasy but a geopolitical necessity.
The Green Deal also has the potential to revitalise Europe’s industrial base—if it embraces pragmatism over purism. That means investing in nuclear energy, fast-tracking infrastructure projects, and accepting that transitional technologies like natural gas will have to play a role. It means supporting workers, not just regulations. It means allowing each member state some flexibility in how they meet common goals.
And above all, it requires leadership—leadership that can speak honestly about trade-offs, timing, and tactics without losing sight of the long-term vision.
Between Crisis and Commitment
Europe stands at a crossroads, not just between East and West, but between past and future. The Green Deal is not perfect. It is too idealistic in places, too bureaucratic in others, and too indifferent to political realities. But it is also the most coherent attempt yet to address the defining challenge of our age.
In an era of resurging nationalism, resource competition, and creeping authoritarianism, the EU’s commitment to environmental leadership is not a luxury—it is a test of relevance. If Europe cannot lead on climate, it will lose more than prestige. It will lose its sense of purpose.
So yes, Europe is in a pre-war phase. But that makes the stakes of the Green Deal even higher. Because the true battle is not just for territory or influence—but for the kind of world we will inhabit after the storm.
And in that world, the Green Deal, for all its flaws, remains an indispensable part of the European answer.
Main Image: – Own work, via Wikipedia
