Is Germany still a US ally?

I ask that question with all seriousness.

To be sure, the historic relationship between the United States and Germany is a significant one. During the Cold War, Germany acted as the figurative and literal democratic tripwire upon which European security and democracy was upheld. Today, Germany remains a key U.S. trading partner, a destination for approximately $60 billion in annual U.S. exports. (German exports to the U.S. are double that number.) Tourism between our two nations remains a vibrant source of cultural and economic exchange.

That said, measured by the foundation stones of any alliance, shared interests and commitments, Germany cannot be considered a close American ally.

Let's start with that still sacred concern: NATO and Western security. Lloyd Austin says that the additional 500 military personnel "will strengthen deterrence and defense in Europe." Really?

There is already 35,000 U.S. military personnel in Germany, and the Biden administration has canceled Trump administration cuts of around 10,000 personnel. But while Germany does serve as America's staging base for operations on the European continent, it isn't close to the prospective battlefront. That honor goes to the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, and Poland. And the facts suggest that each of those states is far more interested in NATO's collective security than is Germany. Each of the Baltic states and Poland allocate at least 2% of their annual GDP on defense spending. Each regularly exercises with the U.S. military and adopts a robust public and covert posture against aggressive Russian intelligence operations on their soil. Each stands with the U.S. in presenting credible front-line deterrence against the threat of Russian military incursion.

Their activity stands in contrast with Germany.

Six-and-a-half years after pledging to move toward the 2% GDP target, Berlin spends just 1.3% to 1.4% of its GDP on defense. Indeed, Germany has so starved its armed forces of investment that its military is now largely impotent. German armored divisions exist in name only, and Germany's otherwise excellent submarine force spends most of its time in port. However, this isn't simply a function of under-investment. Preferring appeasement to alliance burden sharing, Berlin restricts its armed forces from activities such as air penetration exercises and naval power projection, which are instrumental to NATO's credibility.

Nor is Germany concerned with countering Russia at the economic, political, and espionage levels. Germany allows Russia's GRU intelligence service to operate chemical weapons facilities openly on its soil. So also does Berlin continue to slurp at the poisoned trough of Putin's energy blackmail policy via his Nord Stream 2 natural gas pipeline. My choice of language is not exaggerated. Most European Union nations, including France and Poland, recognize that Nord Stream 2's offer of cheaper gas will come at too high a price. Namely, at the expense of Ukraine (which will lose billions of dollars in annual transit fees from present gas supplies), and with the price tag of political deference to Putin. You might think German Chancellor Angela Merkel would reconsider her policy in light of Putin's massive military buildup on Ukraine's borders. Think again. Berlin's actions show that it believes access to cheap gas is more important than democratic sovereignty and European security.

It gets worse.

In a Spring 2019 Pew survey, 63% of German respondents said they believed the U.S. would use force to uphold NATO's Article Five mutual defense commitment. But only 34% of respondents said that Germany should also use force in that shared effort. This isn't exactly strong evidence for the "partnership" that Lloyd Austin so salutes. Moreover, although Merkel and her former defense chief Ursula von der Leyen bear much responsibility here (ironically, Von der Leyen now advances her penchant for toothless security policy as the EU Commission President), they aren't the ultimate source of America's German-alliance challenge.

Germany will hold federal elections in September. But both of Merkel's prospective leadership successors, Markus Soder and Armin Laschet, are disconcertingly sympathetic toward Putin. That's to say nothing of the prospect of a center-left, Green-SDP-Der Linke- partnership. That possible government would make Merkel look like Reagan on Russia. The coalition center ground isn't much better. Ulrike Franke, a respected scholar at the European Council on Foreign Relations, wrote recently that a German Green Party-Center right coalition might allow for a more coordinated German defense policy. "Together," Franke wrote, "the CDU/CSU [Merkel bloc] and the Greens represent most Germans' approach to defense: skeptical of military operations, supportive of non-military solutions, and focused on humanitarian issues, but eager to be good allies to other Europeans and the United States."

That so obvious a NATO-skeptical policy is articulated at such prestigious defense policy levels tells you that Merkel's stance is, if nothing else, at least democratically vested. Interestingly, Franke also aligns with the Russian strategic priority of undermining the last real vestige of German support for NATO: Berlin's provision for U.S. nuclear deterrent forces. Franke says that this policy is outdated.

Don't misunderstand me. I respect that Germans have the absolute right to set their foreign policy as they see fit. My point is that the Biden administration is living on another planet if it thinks that Germany shares our critical strategic interests.

Oh, and there's also that not-so-small China issue to think of.

China has been rightly recognized by both the Trump and Biden administrations as the preeminent threat to America and the post-Second World War liberal international order. Priority concerns include Xi Jinping's effort to dominate the South China Sea militarily (and thus extract political obedience in return for trade access), his genocide against the Uyghur people, his destruction of democracy (and China's treaty obligations) in Hong Kong, his economic espionage and trade blackmail, and his threat to subjugate a smoldering Taiwan (and its semiconductor industry) under the Chinese Communist Party flag.

Germany has little interest in supporting the U.S. on any of these concerns.

When Biden national security adviser Jake Sullivan made a Twitter request for Merkel to pause her trade negotiations with Beijing, Merkel sped up those negotiations in order to reach a deal before Biden entered office. (Fortunately, the EU parliament may have other ideas about this deal.) Since then, Merkel has reiterated her China partnership.

In a video conference just last week, Merkel saluted Xi, praised his latest five-year plan, and called for even greater trade ties and cooperation. Like President Emmanuel Macron of France, Merkel excuses her appeasement of China under the veil of Europe's interest in "strategic autonomy." But unlike Macron, Merkel does not send her attack submarines to exercise alongside the U.S. navy in sinking Chinese warships in the South China Sea. Instead, she tries to placate the U.S. by sending the German navy to the wrong ocean (I'm not joking). The distinction informs why Washington should see France as an ally deserving of cautious trust and engagement and Germany as an ally of old.

Put simply, it's time for Lloyd Austin and his boss to get real.