There are election nights that are followed with more interest outside than inside the country where they are held. The American midterm elections are one of them. In Europe we’ve stayed up late again, keeping an eye on the results of electoral districts that many citizens would probably not be able to place on a map. The Democratic victory has caused understandable satisfaction in European capitals. There is no reason not to. Trump has just received a severe rebuke, and his project has shown that it is not invulnerable. But it is worth not confusing joy with analysis. The Democrats have won Congress, but Trump retains the White House and much of the tools with which he has turned international relations upside down. Europe has reasons to toast, but not so many to pop the champagne.
Politically, the result matters. Americans have expressed their dissatisfaction with an Administration that has made permanent confrontation, economic nationalism, and distrust toward institutions a way of governing. The Democratic recovery of Congress slows the president’s legislative agenda, opens the door to parliamentary investigations, and restores to the chambers a function of oversight that, for two years, they have exercised with less enthusiasm than one would expect from a consolidated democracy.
European reading
For Europe, moreover, the result has a meaning that goes beyond North American politics. It is a setback for the MAGA movement and for a nationalist and reactionary current that has found in Trump something more than a political reference: an ideological ally and a boost for its own aspirations. Knowing that there is electoral opposition to that project is good news for those of us who defend liberal democracy, multilateralism, and an integrated Europe. Although it’s not advisable to exaggerate the contagion: the European far right has its own dynamics and does not need Trump to survive. And one thing is that Americans voted against Trump, and another very different thing is that they have decided to change their country’s external course. That is where caution begins.
Because Trump has lost Congress, but not the presidential power. The new Chambers will not be sworn in until January 2027 and, until then, the president will continue to rely on the current Republican majorities: two months of leeway that Brussels would do well not to underestimate. After that, the Constitution will continue to grant him broad powers in diplomacy, defense and foreign relations. He will be able to govern through executive orders, impose trade measures, decide military deployments and condition relations with his allies. Congress will be able to oversee, investigate, block appointments and make certain initiatives difficult, but it does not have a switch to turn off Trumpism.
It is also worth not underestimating the lever he does have: the budget. That is where aid to Ukraine is decided, sanctions on Russia and the limits on a possible withdrawal of troops from Europe. It is an interesting asymmetry: Congress will have more influence over European security than over tariffs, and both policies will remain in different hands.
A "duck" with less to lose
In fact, some analysts point to an unsettling paradox: a weakened Trump at home may turn out to be more unpredictable abroad. With the domestic agenda stuck, foreign policy is the stage where he can show that he still has decision-making capacity. Pressure on Europe, commercial threats, demands to NATO allies or decisions on Ukraine can become tools to feed his image of strength. The well-known lame duck, the "duck with a limp," of North American politics, does not have to be a docile president in his last two years in office. On the contrary: with less room at home and less to lose, he may have plenty of desire to leave his mark abroad. And he does not seem, precisely, willing to dedicate his last two years to gardening. It is certainly not the scenario that calms Brussels the most.

The economy also does not invite optimism. It would be an error to believe that American protectionism was born with Trump and will go away with him. The defense of the domestic industry, technological competition with China, subsidies to domestic companies, and trade as an instrument of power are part of a deeper transformation. Biden kept much of that direction, although with other methods and a much more pleasant language. The speeches change, but not necessarily the interests. America First may be more strident with Trump, but the priority of protecting American industry and jobs has followers in both parties. In Washington they may disagree about how to deal the cards, but not about who should take home the prize.
It is worth remembering this because in Europe we have tended to personalize the problem too much. The same goes for security: the shift of priorities toward the Indo-Pacific, the rivalry with China, the exhaustion of part of American society with external commitments, and the demand that Europeans pay a larger share of their defense respond to structural factors, not to character. Democrats will disagree with Trump’s manners, not the bill.
The gap beyond Trump
One of the great European mistakes appears here: believing that Trump’s defeat means the return of the America we knew. Mark Leonard, of the European Council on Foreign Relations, has dubbed that attitude Westalgia, and Dave Keating has recently brought it back: the nostalgia of the Atlanticist establishment for the old transatlantic relationship. Brussels expects the return of America as usual as if it were waiting for the ex to come back arrepentido. And Keating adds an uncomfortable paradox: we follow with almost unhealthy attention who wins a seat in Texas, but we do not always know who decides in Brussels the policies that condition our future. Perhaps the problem is not only that the United States has changed, but that Europe behaves as if it did not have to do so.
It is not a new criticism. For some time now I have argued that the transatlantic relationship has stopped working on the basis of an alliance between equals. The Turnberry tariff agreement between Trump and Ursula von der Leyen was a good example: it was sold as a pragmatic solution to avoid a trade war, but it also made clear the asymmetry of a relationship in which Washington pressures and Brussels looks for how to accommodate itself. Europe presented as a victory what others would have called surrender with a good presentation. Avoiding a trade war was reasonable; turning the concession into a method is another matter.

The experience afterward should have taught us that giving in does not always end with demands. Canada has recently shown that it is also possible to defend one’s own interests and accept that doing so has a cost. This is not about imitating anyone or responding with reprisals to every threat, but about understanding that prudence and docility are not synonyms. The first involves taking on a cost to protect a greater interest; the second, accepting an imposition out of fear of the price of resisting. Europe has been confusing these two things for far too long.
Far from Washington’s umbrella
Something similar happens in security. Ukraine has shown to what extent we depend on the United States for essential capabilities: intelligence, logistics, strategic transport, air defense and nuclear deterrence. The NATO alliance remains indispensable, but an alliance cannot rest indefinitely on the idea that one of its members decides when, how, under what conditions and at what price it provides its support. Strategic autonomy does not mean breaking with Washington or building an alternative alliance, but having enough capacity so that cooperation is a choice and not a necessity imposed by our weakness.
The same is true for digital and energy sovereignty. Europe proclaims it while its cloud services, its satellite communications, and much of its artificial intelligence depend on US companies, and while it replaces Russian gas with US liquefied natural gas: changing suppliers is not the same as gaining independence. There is no shortage of documents: the Strategic Compass, the Draghi report, solemn communications without end. What is missing is turning them into capabilities and decisions.

The Democratic victory offers, yes, some opportunities. A Congress in Democratic hands can recover areas for dialogue, oversee the president, and serve as an interlocutor for European governments. But it is also not a good idea to idealize it: the party is divided over the international role of the United States, and nothing guarantees that a future Democratic Administration will restore the commitment of yesteryear. The America of 2028, whether Republican or Democratic, will not necessarily be the one from twenty years ago.
That is why the conclusion should be rather less complacent than some European toasts. Trump’s electoral defeat is good news for American democracy and for those of us who believe in a transatlantic relationship based on respect and cooperation. But it does not resolve European vulnerability, nor does it, by itself, change the strategic interests of the United States. Europe cannot continue to organize its future while waiting for a more agreeable, more predictable, or more familiar president to be installed in Washington.
We can celebrate that Americans have put electoral limits on Trump. What we cannot do is turn that celebration into a new excuse to postpone our own responsibilities. We need more industry, more investment, more homegrown technology, more defense capability, and a foreign policy that does not depend on the changes in mood from the White House. And, above all, political will to use the economic and commercial power we have when our fundamental interests are at stake.
The old America is not necessarily going to return because the Democrats have recovered Congress. And maybe it is time to accept that the problem is not only that the United States has stopped being the ally we were expecting, but that Europe still has not learned to be the partner it needs. And some of the elections that can condition our future the most are not held in Texas or in Pennsylvania, but here, starting with the French presidential elections of 2027. We have been too long waiting for ballots in which we do not vote, while neglecting the ones that are really ours. It is time to stop expecting it to be Americans who win ours.