The theory of modern geopolitics is still linked to the language of aircraft carriers, missile ranges, and troop numbers; however, reality could be different to the surprise of some. Beneath all of the visible hardware of power, as displayed by global powers (USA, Russia, China) or Middle Kingdoms, the real determinant of whether a war or wars can be fought is determined by something much simpler: commercial shipping. While the world is watching the moves being made by Washington at present, it should be understood that any serious crisis in which the USA seeks to project power, such as in Europe, the Middle East, or Africa, depends on cooperation with others. At the same time, US power projection is only possible if it can ride on the hulls, contracts, ports, and crews of European shipping companies. Recognizing Europe’s critical role in US logistics can inform strategic policy decisions and highlight leverage points for European influence.

Reality is extremely stark, especially if you strip away the rhetoric. The overwhelming majority of US military deployments outside North America increasingly rely on civilian shipping. The latter, either chartered or requisitioned, is needed to move heavy equipment, ammunition, fuel, and sustainment supplies. For global deployments or heavy operations abroad, such as in Iran, Ukraine, or Taiwan, sealift, not airlift, is the main factor in winning wars of scale. Remarkably, and not understood by most, much of that sealift capacity is embedded in European-owned or European-operated fleets. The Old Continent’s container lines, RoRo operators, tanker companies, heavy-lift specialists, and port terminal operators across the EU, the UK, and, increasingly, Ukraine-linked logistics corridors, are key to American power projections, or even to the security of a large part of the world.

The current situation is not an accident but has been shaped by three decades of globalization, privatization, and alliance assumptions. While Washington’s rhetoric shows a dislike and misrepresentation of NATO’s cooperation, it forgets or denies the facts on the ground: the US has outsourced logistical depth to the market. This has been set up and developed because Washington assumes there will always be allied commercial actors available in times of need. At the same time, Europe has professionalized shipping as a global business. Its shipping companies and politicians have assumed that military neutrality would be respected so long as flags and contracts were carefully managed. The current situation, however, shows that both assumptions are very fragile.

Washington’s dependency runs much deeper than most understand. Almost all US military hardware moves are concentrated via three main maritime channels. First, government-owned but commercially operated vessels under the US Maritime Security Program. Second, mostly European-owned time-chartered commercial ships that are active during a crisis. Third, and increasingly important, containerized supply chains are embedded in global liner networks dominated by non-American firms. This situation has become a major power factor because the US has not built sufficient indigenous sealift capacity to operate independently at scale. While the Trump Administration may deny it, Washington cannot, at short notice, access enough vessels to move armored brigades, missile stocks, or fuel reserves; it will need to tap the commercial market.

The center of that logistics system are European shipping companies, such as Danish, German, Greek, Norwegian, British, and increasingly Central and Eastern European operators, who control a disproportionate share of global RoRo capacity, heavy-lift vessels, and container tonnage. At the same time, as also acknowledged by NATO and others, European ports, especially Rotterdam, Antwerp-Bruges, Hamburg, Bremerhaven, Felixstowe, Gdansk, Constanța, are crucial nodes for staging, transshipment, and onward movement. What some even forget is that Ukraine’s war logistics, often portrayed as a land-based story, are heavily dependent on maritime supply chains, most of which are linked to and fed by European ports and river systems. Political decisions affecting these ports could significantly impact on US military logistics, highlighting their strategic leverage.

As always, during peacetime this interdependency is invisible; during a crisis, it is immense leverage.

When looking at the current state of Transatlantic relations, especially the Greenland crisis, everything comes together. The Greenland issue should not, even after NATO SG Mark Rutte did his normal Trump whispering, be regarded as over and solved. The Trump Administration is currently acting like a small child, prone to unexpected tantrums and emotional outbursts. Imagine a scenario in which tension over Arctic assets, natural resources, or military bases escalate into a conflict between the US and a coalition of European states. The shock will propagate before even a shot has been fired. The ultimate question to be answered will be: “Would European shipping companies be legally, politically, or commercially obliged to support US military movements through European-controlled ports and sea lanes?”

The answer is far from clear—and that ambiguity itself is powerful.

First of all, European shipping companies are not instruments of state power, for sure not in the American sense. At the same time, they are operating under complex flag regimes, EU competition law, insurance constraints, and, not to be dismissed as irrelevant, shareholder obligations. European operators also don’t have an automatic duty to support foreign military operations, unlike the US, where US firms are embedded in defence-industrial frameworks. European companies certainly don’t have any obligation to assist other powers if those operations contradict national or EU policy positions. In a Greenland crisis, even if internal political alignment is expected to fracture, European governments still have the option of restricting port access, denying charters, delaying clearances, or even invoking neutrality clauses. Understanding these risks emphasizes their potential as leverage points in US-European strategic relations.

Analysts know that such moves will have a devastating impact on US power projection. US heavy equipment is a slow mover, while armored vehicles cannot be flown in meaningful numbers. At the same time, fuel logistics will be unforgiving. A port access refusal will put Washington in a corner, especially when combined with European shipping companies’ refusal. The USA will have only two choices: escalation against allies or prolonged operational paralysis. That is not a comfortable position for a superpower accustomed to uncontested access, especially given a Trump Administration that is not yet used to opposition or to being called on the bluff.

The leverage is not absolute, but it is real. And it extends beyond Europe.

Don’t even think that this will only work for the European theatre. When looking at the USA’s second-most-visible conflict theatre, the Middle East, American leaders should understand that European shipping firms remain deeply involved in energy transport, container trade, and offshore logistics. Like all other military operations, US military operations in the Middle East rely on stable maritime flows of fuel, spare parts, and consumables. A European shipping sector, possibly facing legal exposure, political pressure, or security risk, could decide to withdraw capacity. The latter will be especially on the table in a scenario where US actions are controversial. European shipping could also be demanding prohibitive risk premiums. All these moves will not only increase the overall costs of the US military operation but also slow deployments and constrain operational tempo.

The US’s dependence is even more pronounced in Asia, especially when assessing a Taiwan or South China Sea crisis. US logistics is very dependent on global liner networks, which are largely dominated by non-American firms. At the same time, US military and logistics planners will need to address the fact that, while there are many European liners in the area, most must operate through ports where Chinese, European, and local interests intersect. European shipping companies will be facing pressure from the USA, China, and their own government’s risk tolerance. A potential refusal to participate is not based on ideology but commercial survival.

Using all these facts, it becomes clear that an uncomfortable strategic asymmetry exists. Without perhaps realizing it, European shipping companies possess significant leverage over US hard power. Until now, however, they have not openly acknowledged it or used it. Meanwhile, Washington’s power brokers and leadership still assume availability without contingency. The result could be that they discover very soon there is a silent mismatch in expectations.

Europeans, no longer accustomed to global strength or the willingness to use hard power, are currently framing themselves as weak, dependent on American security guarantees. Reality, especially in maritime logistics, is different, as this dependency is at least partially reversed. The perceived Pax Americana, now framed as MAGA, is not possible without European hulls, European ports, and European logistics expertise. Without European support and mobility, American power projections will be slower, costlier, and increasingly fragile. This doesn’t mean at all that Europe is dominant or holds the key to power; it only shows that Brussels and all member states should start pushing the notion that the Continent is consequential.

As always, leverage can and is double-edged. If European shippers refuse cooperation with US military movements, the latter option is not cost-free. The USA would for sure retaliate through regulatory, financial, or political measures. At the same time, global insurance markets will tighten, and access to US trade lanes will be constrained. Washington could also revert to sanction weaponization, using its full set of tools to coerce. Leverage does not equal immunity.

However, what should be recognized is not that European shippers and Brussels could or should refuse to cooperate, but that the option even exists. The latter realization already shapes strategic calculations. Again, power in the 21st Century doesn’t come only from the barrel of a gun or the ability to act, but also from the ability to deny the other means to act.

Another major power position should be understood; ports are the pivotal player.  Unlike ships, ports are immobile and fall under national jurisdiction, EU regulation, and local political control. European leaders should understand that even if shipping companies cooperate with US military requests, port authorities could impose conditions, delays, or outright denials linked to security, environmental, or labor issues. In a fragmented Europe, this will cause chaos; in a coordinated Europe, be decisive.

The Ukraine war has shown how logistics shape the endurance of conflict. These lessons apply to hypothetical future crises involving allies. By recognizing that European shipping and ports are strategic actors and instruments of geopolitical weight, Europe gains bargaining power—whether it chooses to exercise it or not.

Brussels should start to admit that European shipping companies and ports already influence US geopolitical power. This is being done passively, just by being available. In a crisis, this could be done actively by either being unavailable or attaching conditions. These moves would not show that Europe seeks confrontation; they only make clear that the continent understands the power it holds.

All wars are not only decided by those who fire weapons but also by the parties that move them to the theatres in place. In contrast to the times of pirates, buccaneers, or UK, Dutch, or Spanish fleets (16th-19th Century), when ships that decided wars flew flags of conquest, we are in an era of globalized logistics. These ships are flying commercial flags, dock at civilian ports, and answer to boards rather than generals. By ignoring this reality, it doesn’t disappear. When the time comes, Europe will most probably discover its leverage by accident rather than by design.