Lock the gains, Chancellor. Lock the gains

As Europe stalls and stockpiles, Merz moves—quietly rewriting the balance of power, one Patriot system at a time.

I made a mistake yesterday.

In outlining the first three steps of the eight-part escalation ladder, I wrote: “France will likely resist.” That was wrong. I failed to account for one critical variable: embarrassment.

Everyone knows France is under severe budget constraints. If they join the European push to acquire Patriot air-defense systems for Ukraine, the optics will be brutal. Merz, who has fought tooth and nail to position Germany as a heavyweight in weapons production and procurement, can casually drop $5 billion into the effort. France, by contrast, would struggle to contribute $500 million—and even then, there's no guarantee the funds would clear.

Now imagine the headlines:
Europe purchases five Patriot systems. Germany contributes $5 billion. France—$500 million.

It would be a humiliation of continental scale, especially as Europe increasingly leans on France for nuclear protection. So no, France won’t resist. They’ll simply stay out of it.

Italy will do what Italy always does: find a spin. Spain, however, is becoming insufferable. They sit comfortably with Patriot systems enjoying the summer breeze. They won’t give money. They won’t send weapons. They won’t even ask whether they could do something—and they’ll make sure no one touches their own Patriot batteries. But when it comes to EU cash? They’ll take as much as they can carry.

At least France and Italy—reluctant though they are—can be understood. But Spain, Belgium, and Greece? Their actions shouldn’t be excused. Hungary and Slovakia, for all their evil faults, are at least loyal to their chosen master. These three? Purely self-serving.

And as expected, Europe is talking in circles.

Germany, Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, Sweden, the United Kingdom, Canada, and Finland have committed to funding the Patriot purchase—and are now sketching out the details in case transfers are needed. Reuters reported yesterday that a meeting of Patriot-owning nations and Ukraine donors—chaired by NATO’s top military commander—is being planned for Wednesday next week, to coordinate and find additional systems for Kyiv.

That’s all I saw in the report: Next week.

It’s a damning indictment of how weak Europe’s intelligence coordination really is. No foresight. No preemptive signaling. Just bureaucracy.

The fact that no one in Europe even knew this freeze and release was coming should’ve set off alarms. Something cracked inside the U.S. wall. And when that happens—when there’s a turnover and yards to cover—you don’t pause to discuss your options. You take the goddamn ball and run.

That’s not happening. But thankfully, Chancellor Merz moved fast enough to give the world some cover. Reports confirm he told the U.S. President directly that Germany would fund the Patriot systems—during the July 3rd call, that came just after Trump’s conversation with Vladimir Putin.

That call was where the pivot was laid.

Merz told Trump: Germany will pay.

And one week later, on July 11th, Trump called back. He was ready to sell.

After seeing footage of Russian airstrikes on Ukrainian cities late on July 11, President Trump called German Chancellor Friedrich Merz on his cellphone to express frustration over Vladimir Putin’s continued assault on his smaller neighbor, according to two people familiar with the conversation.

Merz was surprised, these people said, but quickly realized Trump had lost patience with the Russian president. Trump said he was now ready to accept an offer Merz had made days earlier: to use German funds to buy U.S.-made weapons for Ukraine, the two officials said. - WSJ

The Wall Street Journal and The Economist are the only two newsrooms in the world right now that still bother to do the work—dig, verify, and think before reporting. Because of that, I trust their coverage. And based on what they’ve uncovered, one thing is clear: the back-and-forth between Trump and Merz will be hard to break. That line is now established.

Most reports coming out of Europe have also clarified something else: it’s not 17 batteries, and they’re not all coming out of Israel’s warehouses. Germany and Norway have already committed to covering the cost for three batteries. But they’re now pushing to raise that number—potentially as high as ten—depending on how far they can stretch the funding and coordinate the transfer mechanism.

So realistically, we’re looking at a final number somewhere between three and ten Patriot systems. The spread depends on logistics, financing, and political will. But the direction is clear—and it’s being led by a tight Merz-Trump channel, not Brussels.

Merz being Merz, has played a central role in forging this new connection. When parts of the world began to panic over a potential oil crisis, it was Chancellor Merz—alone among major European leaders—who stepped forward and said what others didn’t dare to voice.

Speaking on June 23, he defended the U.S. airstrikes on Iranian nuclear sites:
“There is no reason for us … to criticise what America did last weekend,” he said. And then, with typical bluntness: “Yes, it is not without risk, but leaving it as it was wasn’t an option either.”

That kind of support matters.

Especially now.

I’m not sure where things stand between British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and Donald Trump. But I do know this: Emmanuel Macron and Trump barely tolerate each other. It’s a toxic relationship—fluctuating wildly between forced cooperation and outright hostility. They needle each other. They grandstand. And yet, somehow, they still find ways to get things done.

The Merz–Trump dynamic is heading in a very different direction. Quietly. Deliberately. Constructively.

And yes—these things matter. Relationships matter. Personality friction and trust gaps can decide how fast weapons move, how intelligence is shared, and whether Ukraine gets what it needs on time. There are over 40 million futures at stake. Every nuance that improves their odds is worth the effort.

Credit must also go to German Defense Minister Boris Pistorius—and to the broader German political class. They never stopped pushing to get air-defense systems to Ukraine. They had every excuse to slow down, every opportunity to put their feet up and say they’d done enough. But they didn’t.

Germany has delivered record levels of aid. They’ve signed long-term agreements with Ukraine to keep supplying German-made air-defense systems. Today, more than half of Ukraine’s artillery shell supply comes from German stockpiles and production lines. German companies are setting up in Ukraine, one after another. As I write this, drone manufacturer Quantum-Systems has just announced a second production facility inside Ukraine.

And still, even as the hunt for additional Patriot systems grows more difficult, they haven’t stopped. This effort started in 2023 and continues to this very day.

So what compelled Chancellor Merz to tell Trump on July 3rd—after already delivering three German systems—that Germany would pay for two more Patriots from the U.S.?
What was the need?

None. Except that Merz saw the moment. He saw the freeze. He saw the vacuum. And he moved. While others sat on stockpiles, Germany acted. That’s what leadership looks like. And when the stakes are measured in the lives of 40 million people, that kind of relentlessness is the only thing that matters.

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And if there are any Brits reading this—drop a comment and let me know:
What’s going on with Prime Minister Starmer? He’s all but vanished from the scene. From architect to bystander in a matter of two months. Has something shifted inside the UK government?

Would love to hear your read on it.