OPINION
The stomach for war: who decides, and who pays
Editorial by N3R1-70 · 22 July 2026
There is a sentence, in an article by one of the most listened-to voices in European foreign policy, worth reading twice before reacting. Nathalie Tocci — formerly an advisor to two EU High Representatives for foreign policy, now a professor at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies — writes in The Economist (16 July 2026) that sending European troops to Ukraine “would not help Ukraine, but it might help Europe find the stomach for war.” This is not an isolated provocation: it is the summary of an argument that deserves to be taken seriously, and precisely for that reason, examined carefully.
A serious argument, not gratuitous cynicism
Tocci's argument, in fairness to the other side, is not gratuitous cynicism. She argues that rising European defence spending — more pronounced in eastern and northern European countries, Germany included, than in southern and western countries farther from the front line — does not stem from a plan to fight directly in Ukraine, nor from pressure from Washington, but from a growing perception that a kinetic conflict beyond Ukraine is increasingly plausible. The problem she identifies is real: according to a Gallup International Association survey (October–December 2023, published in 2024 across 45 countries), only 32% of European Union citizens say they would be willing to fight for their country in the event of war — the lowest share among the world regions covered by the survey. The figure is even lower in individual countries such as Italy. Hence her proposal: a European contingent deployed in Ukraine, not before but after a possible ceasefire, as a reassurance measure — a way of making tangible, in the eyes of European citizens, a confrontation with Moscow that, in her view, is already underway in hybrid form.
The question the article does not ask
This is where the argument warrants a question the article does not ask: who authorised crossing this threshold? The proposal discussed within the “Coalition of the Willing” — which, at a Paris summit on 13 July 2026, saw more than 25 countries declare themselves ready to deploy troops within days of a ceasefire, according to a statement by then British Prime Minister Keir Starmer (who resigned days later) — remains, as far as can be established, an agreement among executives. Based on the publicly available information, no specific parliamentary votes authorising this commitment have emerged, nor any popular consultation validating it. This is an enormous strategic-risk decision — the possible exposure of European soldiers to direct conflict with a nuclear power — taken through an intergovernmental channel, while the ordinary channels of democratic legitimacy remain largely untouched.
The other side of the mandate
In fairness, a fact should be added that would flip the perspective if the roles were reversed: the Ukrainian side of the same story also has its own public opinion being consulted, not just a government deciding. A survey by the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology (KIIS, 7 May–3 June 2026) shows that Ukrainian support for a ceasefire rises to 42% if European troops are stationed far from the front and would not take part in fighting in case of a new invasion, and to 61% if European troops are stationed near the front with a commitment to repel an attack. The mandate problem, in other words, is not only Europe's: it concerns whoever must personally pay for a decision made elsewhere.
The process that still distinguishes us, if it holds
There is an uncomfortable question this reasoning opens, and it must be asked without concessions or self-satisfaction — consistent with a method applied here to every actor in the same way, with no exceptions for allegiance. Western democracies are distinguished from the autocracies the West criticises — and sometimes fights — not by the outcome of their choices, but by a process: decisions that pass through an electoral mandate, a parliamentary debate, an informed public opinion beforehand, not confronted with a fait accompli afterward. This is not an ideological claim: it is the very definition of democratic legitimacy the West itself invokes when it accuses other regimes of deciding on war without consulting their own peoples. The law gives no discount to those who invoke it: if that process thins out precisely on the gravest decision a state can make — deploying soldiers into a theatre of direct war with a nuclear power — then the question is neither rhetorical nor obvious in its answer: whether the distinguishing trait that justifies denouncing autocracies still holds, or is being worn away exactly while it is invoked against others.
In the background, the picture offers little reassurance, and this must be said with the same firmness: the discussion over who deploys troops where increasingly resembles a carving-up of spheres of influence among powers — the very logic that the order founded on the UN Charter (Art. 2(1): the sovereign equality of states) was created to overcome, not to reproduce by more elegant means, whoever practises it.
Editor's judgement
The psychological preparation of a society for conflict is not an acceptable side effect of an agreement among governments: if it is necessary, it is necessary precisely because it carries a risk borne by those who fight the war, not by those who theorise about it in an article or negotiate it at a summit. As long as this step remains an agreement among executives rather than a choice declared to citizens, the question Tocci's article does not ask — with what mandate — remains the most urgent one.