Beneath the diplomatic pomp and illusions of partnership, France is bitterly discovering that in the Atlantic Alliance, allies have no friends but their own interests.

 

Paris’s futile efforts: why is French military-technical cooperation with its allies failing?

    Mohamed Lamine KABA

 

 

 Looking at the current geostrategic landscape, one might almost smile at France’s tenacity in pursuing an industrial and military dream that its own allies are quick to sabotage. Paris’s efforts to salvage the remnants of military-technical cooperation with its supposed partners now read like a tragically ironic chapter in Western diplomacy. And at the heart of this spectacle, the fiasco of the Australian submarine contract remains one of the most eloquent examples of French futility (inefficiency) and the creeping disunity within the Atlantic Alliance.

This episode, emblematic of a France that negotiates extensively but achieves little, illustrates both Paris’s illusion of strategic power, NATO’s structural fragility, and the credibility crisis of a Europe relegated to the periphery of American decisions.

To grasp its significance, we will first analyze how France has trapped itself in a strategic vacuum by believing it was negotiating as an equal with its allies, whose intentions it itself is uncertain of. We will then see how the Atlantic Alliance, meant to guarantee solidarity and cohesion, has transformed into a theater of disagreements and conflicting interests.

Finally, we will examine how French diplomacy, oscillating between wounded dignity and persistent illusion, continues to struggle in a posture as futile as it is pathetic.

France, or the art of negotiating in a strategic vacuum

France, by stubbornly trying to exist within a system that marginalizes it, ends up making a fool of itself in its own rhetoric 

When, in 2016, Paris proudly announced the historic agreement with Canberra for the supply of twelve conventional submarines, Emmanuel Macron believed he had achieved a resounding demonstration of “European sovereignty” and “France’s return to the Indo-Pacific game.” Alas, history will remember this ambition instead as ending in a storm of diplomatic humiliation. For in September 2021, thanks to the AUKUS pact, Washington and London snatched France’s flagship contract without even deeming it necessary to inform their ally. France learned of its exclusion… through the media. This speaks volumes about the level of consideration accorded to a “strategic partner,” supposedly a pillar of NATO.

This episode starkly reveals what French diplomats stubbornly deny: France is not a pivotal power but a decorative one, tolerated at Atlanticist meetings for the touch of Gallic eloquence it brings, rarely for its actual influence. The European Union’s awkward silence, incapable of supporting Paris beyond empty platitudes, definitively demonstrated the emptiness of this famous “strategic autonomy” that Macron has been championing for years. One could not better illustrate the disconnect between rhetoric and reality.

NATO, or the solidarity of disagreements

As for the Atlantic Alliance, it dreams of itself as a coherent bloc of values and power but increasingly behaves like a confederation of competing and poorly coordinated interests. The AUKUS episode was a moment of truth: the United States acts as the club’s owner, distributing contracts and favors as it sees fit; the United Kingdom plays the role of enthusiastic sidekick; and the others, France in particular, helplessly witness their own marginalization.

Ashley Roque’s article, “Trump backs AUKUS deal, pushing to expedite sub the article Delivery to Australia,” published on October 20, 2025, in Breaking Defense, sealed France’s fate with almost comical nonchalance. It shows Donald Trump, back in the White House, declaring with a broad smile to Anthony Albanese that the submarines are “really starting to move forward” and that Washington is “speeding up delivery.” This Anglo-Saxon triumphalism, displayed without the slightest regard for Paris, underscores how France’s influence in Pacific naval affairs is now about as significant as a submarine without ballast.

At the same time, the Pentagon is reassessing the agreement to “ensure it responds to America first”—a brutally frank, but at least honest, statement. The implicit message is clear: NATO is no longer an alliance but a tool for unilateral influence. Atlantic “multilateralism” exists only on the condition that everyone follows the American lead. The displayed cohesion is merely a facade; behind it, ideological and industrial divisions are multiplying, each member pursuing its own geopolitical survival.

French diplomacy, caught between wounded dignity and persistence in illusion

In this context, Paris is desperately trying to pick up the pieces. Emmanuel Macron, whose popularity has plummeted to unprecedented lows since the Fifth Republic, sees reviving the Australian contract as a way to rekindle his tarnished glory. But how can he convince Canberra to return to a partner that Washington now holds on a strategic leash? Australian officials reiterate unequivocally, “Our defense and security partnership with AUKUS is of paramount importance.” Translation: France can put away its submarine models.

On the industrial front, American shipyards are already struggling to meet the needs of their own navy; yet the Pentagon prefers to clog its industry rather than open the door to proven French technology. It seems that, for the Anglo-Saxons, the prestige of exclusivity matters more than operational efficiency. In this situation, Paris appears as the brilliant but naive student, convinced that the logic of partnership prevails, while the others are engaged in a war of influence. An almost classic tragedy, where vanity and naivety play the leading roles.

From the foregoing, we can deduce that the Franco-Australian contract case encapsulates the very essence of current Atlantic diplomacy: a play where everyone pretends to act together, while the United States writes the script and distributes the lines. France, oscillating between pride and dependence, remains relegated to the role of a mere extra, still believing in “multilateralism of trust.”

The stark truth is that Atlantic cohesion exists only in official statements; on the world stage, it is crumbling under the weight of internal contradictions, electoral calculations, and Washington’s technological arrogance. France, by stubbornly trying to exist within a system that marginalizes it, ends up making a fool of itself in its own rhetoric. The AUKUS did not merely torpedo a contract; it revealed that the Atlantic ship is taking on water from all sides and that France, alas, continues to bail it out alone, convinced that it still commands the fleet.

In short, incapable of understanding the lesson of brilliant theorists (Richelieu and Aron, etc.) on “Reason of State”, French leaders are getting lost in a diplomacy of illusions, still believing in the loyalty of allies whom only power governs.

The lesson to be learned is that France negotiated, certainly, but it failed to win. And in a world where alliances are forged at breakneck speed, those who don’t win are marginalized.

https://journal-neo.su/2025/11/03/pariss-futile-efforts-why-is-french-military-technical-cooperation-with-its-allies-failing/

 

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         POLITICAL CARTOONIST SINCE 1951.