Editor’s Note: This piece is brought to you by John McCabe, a Master’s graduate from St Andrews with a background in International Relations. Be sure to follow his work here.
The shifting tides of 2025 herald fresh, rejuvenating efforts in alliance-building for the traditional European powers—and, between themselves. The catalysts are many but this year’s tumult seems to have shaken the status quo beyond a critical threshold: Britain, France, and Germany now demonstrate in policy a preference for triangular bilateral relations over the legacy multilateralism that once bound them. What’s remarkable is that this is part of a broader trend in which states turn to more nuanced relationships to better competitively navigate complex challenges. The so-called “triangle alliance” is only its latest expression—poised to dominate a pragmatic yet fraught axis in the coming years, with perils international and domestic.
The frog has been in the pot for some time. States are keen to refocus their priorities as the world evolves in hostile and unforgiving ways. The proliferation of conflict, specifically, is an unfortunate aggravation of a new order of ‘multipolarity’—a concept generally referring to in International Relations the dilution of power across the international system. You could take the rise of China on one hand, India on the other, and say that the world has been diluting respectively, decisively, since a time of about 2008 (the financial crisis is a convenient demarcation point for Western retrenchment). Multipolarity entails sweeping diplomatic upheaval. Big players in the game—those which would traditionally dominate alliance systems, such as the United States—lose central relevance. Their old power had essentially wrought alliance structures ‘hub-and-spoke’ in design, meaning that they enjoyed a position of exclusive outreach: the strong ‘hub’ would anchor the disparate weaker states. Now, facing an unprecedented threat environment, these states are forced to recalibrate their alliances with respect to a new order—integrating within what is, more than ever before, a networked lattice of interconnectedness. Pragmatic and nuanced, the proliferating bilateral relationships that constitute this lattice offer innovative and reliable outcomes—without critical dependencies of the hub-and-spoke kind, or, multilaterally, deference to an anomalous exception of the lowest common denominator. Finally, jumping out the pot.
The deterioration of multilateral diplomacy, however typically slow, is perhaps the most gruesome affliction of a new bilateral bonanza. A strong state can dominate multilateral fora and successfully reconcile a stark divergence of interests—in the absence of such convening power, consensus devolves. States are only righteously pursuing self-interested foreign policies—should shrewd bilateralism occupy that imperative, so be it—but issues ranging from climate change to nuclear non-proliferation will require greater degrees of multilateralism than the new structural conditions might afford. Unfortunately, it is Europe that appears most exposed given its proclivity to the contrary; institutionalism is second nature and practically foundational to modern decision-making processes. Yet institutions can ossify, and where they once secured common cause, they now struggle to corral the difference. Coalitions of convenience emerge from frustration, blurring the lines of alliance and alignment. The traditional boundaries of security are thus evaporating beyond recognition, setting the stage for what may herald the continent’s most dramatic architectural transformation since the end of the Second World War.
How has this transpired? Donald Trump’s America First approach—a practical condemnation of multilateralism—has spelled out in no uncertain terms that any security umbrella the European states might have once enjoyed is eviscerated (this is one of the catalysts). Members of the administration repeatedly call into question NATO commitments, European values, policy, and most urgently, the imperative to protect Ukraine against Russian aggression (this is another). Who’s your daddy? Britain seems to think itself something. So does France. And Germany’s getting there. Though, the important point is that each has a role to play to uphold democracy, liberal values, and a rules-based international order. If the Brussels organisations, NATO and the EU, can not act assuredly decisively, then the individual states assume responsibility to salami-slice security prerogatives wherever they can between themselves. Europe can perhaps never again outsource its security, but with the right patchwork—or lattice—it won’t matter. Contemporarily, the UK, France, and Germany have been spurred by such existential realisations to expedite their reconciliations and substantiate their largely positive affinities. Yet it is only over the last couple of months that they have signed new, complementary bilateral treaties affirming it—elevating their alliance to something quite special and at the same time forming a distinctive triangle within the wider European lattice.
“This is literally all the kids coming together and trying to figure out what to do about the drunk dad” says Minna Alander, from the Center for European Policy Analysis. Indeed, it is clear from the points of cooperation in these treaties that they reflect the challenges of Eastern, as well as Western, confrontation. The Kensington Treaty—the UK and Germany’s new terms of partnership—incorporates a clause on bilateral mutual defence, which is redundantly serving the same purpose as NATO’s Article V. It is conceivable that this is meant more symbolically, as to bolster solidarity, but more astute judgment might tell us that the two states have lost faith in the credibility and deterrence of NATO—in the case that the US refused its commitments, other members could follow and the alliance would fracture; force posture and planning is undermined by the withdrawal of even one. It is therefore prudent to have a bilateral backstop reinforcing the multilateral commitment. The Kensington Treaty also covers cooperation in: defence industry and exports; clean energy and research; people-smuggling and illegal migration; geopolitical alignment, including regular summits; and other mutually advantageous pursuits, opening the doors to deeper cooperation in the future. Less clear—though floated—is the notion that the UK and France could extend a second nuclear umbrella over Germany, again in the spirit of redundancy.
The cooperation between all three is the most interesting (and novel) aspect of the diplomacy: the treaty specifically requests that both the UK and Germany deepen their cooperation with France as well, conjuring an endeavour more uniquely trilateral than bilateral. With effect to that, Merz said: “it is no coincidence that I am here a week after the French president’s state visit to London”. The tone of cooperation indicates this could be the makings of a future bloc, which may or may not begin attracting other European states as it snowballs geopolitically; the Coalition of the Willing (COW) is thus far generating engagement at the respective scale. The UK is evidently committed to building relations with France as the Kensington Treaty was not the only partnership signed in recent months—the French state visit was formalising the modernisation of the Lancaster House Treaties. These were first adopted in 2010, providing a framework for a comprehensive strategic partnership which included the creation of a Joint Expeditionary Force (JEF) and defence and research collaboration. “2.0” is said to complement the current strategic environment: recasting the JEF as the Combined Joint Force (CJF), five times larger—growing from ten to fifty thousand—and tailored to the missions of the COW; implementing unprecedented nuclear weapons cooperation; and establishing an “Entente Industrielle” to develop and proliferate advanced capabilities. These are just some of a long list of terms that spell a bright future for Anglo-French relations—and not too soon.
One of the most pressing considerations in the foreign policy coordination of these three nations—if the triangle alliance is to last—is the flare-up of civil unrest and a surge in the far right. The parties these disillusioned voters support are consistent in their advocacy for nationalism and isolationism to variably high degrees, which is incompatible with the kind of fruitful engagement these European states currently exercise. Already, Germany’s AFD has joined Reform UK and France’s National Rally in topping national polling—all far right. If the current trend continues, the incumbent parties may be forced to row back their ambitions or suffer paralyzing diversions. Worst-case scenario, one of the parties torpedoes the arrangement upon gaining power. The dire consequences of that reality reach far into the future at such a pivotal moment in human history: the sustainability of European institutions, Ukrainian sovereignty, transatlantic unity, and liberalism itself, are all on the line. It is clear, however, that discerning and determined bilateralism offers overwhelming advantages to those states that can employ it—these treaties’ provisions being but one example. For Europe, the lesson is simple: lasting strength will not be secured from institutions alone, but through the living growth of pragmatic partnerships. Brussels may sprout, but bilateral shoots.