The train has not departed for possible cooperation
In the long and often turbulent history of transatlantic alliance, moments of friction between Washington and its European partners have always tested the durability of shared purpose over personal discord. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, facing public criticism from Donald Trump and the quiet withdrawal of American troops from German soil, chose Sunday evening not to retaliate but to reaffirm — signaling that the architecture of the NATO relationship, however strained, is not something he is willing to let collapse over a disagreement about Iran. His measured posture reflects a truth that European leaders have long had to reckon with: that maintaining the alliance sometimes requires absorbing indignity in the service of strategic necessity.
- Trump publicly called Merz a 'terrible' chancellor after the German leader criticized the US-Israeli military campaign in Iran, turning a policy disagreement into a personal confrontation.
- The US announced the withdrawal of 5,000 troops from German bases and shelved a planned Tomahawk missile deployment, moves that many read as punishment for Merz's dissent.
- Merz pushed back on that interpretation in a Sunday broadcast, insisting the troop pullout was routine and that depleted American arsenals — not political retaliation — explained the missile cancellation.
- He kept the door open on future cooperation, saying 'the train has not departed,' while quietly asserting that Europe could sustain its deterrent against Russia without those specific American assets.
- The episode is part of a wider pattern: Trump has also mocked Starmer, and dismissed Spain as 'absolutely horrible,' suggesting European allies are being systematically tested on how much they will endure to preserve the relationship.
Friedrich Merz appeared on German public television on a Sunday evening with a deliberate message: he was not walking away from Donald Trump, despite weeks of mounting tension between the two leaders.
The friction had begun when Merz criticized the US-Israeli military campaign in Iran, saying Iran was 'humiliating' Washington at the negotiating table. Trump responded sharply, calling Merz a 'terrible' chancellor. The rupture deepened when the US announced it would withdraw 5,000 troops from German bases and cancel a planned deployment of long-range Tomahawk cruise missiles — moves that looked, to many, like retaliation.
Merz worked to reframe both decisions. The troop withdrawal, he argued, was routine military planning, not punishment. The missile cancellation, he explained, came down to a simple logistical reality: American arsenals were depleted by the wars in Iran and Ukraine. 'The Americans themselves don't have enough at the moment,' he said. He added that the deployment could still happen eventually — 'the train has not departed' — and that Europe could maintain its deterrent against Russia without those particular weapons.
Throughout the interview, Merz was careful to preserve the relationship rather than defend his pride. He acknowledged that he and Trump held 'a different view of this war,' but framed it as a difference of perspective, not principle. He noted, with dry humor, that Trump respected his right to disagree — 'a little less for the moment.' He also found common ground where he could, reaffirming his commitment to preventing Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons.
The broader context made Merz's restraint all the more striking. Trump had not limited his criticism to Germany — he had mocked British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and dismissed Spain as 'absolutely horrible,' suggesting a pattern of publicly testing European allies. For Merz, the calculation was clear: absorb the friction, downplay the setbacks, and keep the transatlantic relationship intact. Whether that strategy would hold remained uncertain, but his message on Sunday was unambiguous — strained, yes, but not broken.
Friedrich Merz sat down for an interview with Germany's public broadcaster on a Sunday evening with a message he wanted to deliver clearly: he was not walking away from Donald Trump, no matter how much the American president had needled him in recent weeks.
The German chancellor had become a target of Trump's ire after criticizing the US-Israeli military campaign in Iran. On April 27, Merz had said Iran was "humiliating" Washington at the negotiating table—a comment that triggered a sharp response from the White House. Trump fired back, calling Merz a "terrible" chancellor. The tension between the two leaders had become impossible to ignore, especially when the US announced it would withdraw 5,000 troops from German bases, a move that looked, to many observers, like punishment for Merz's public dissent.
But Merz was determined to reframe the narrative. Speaking to ARD host Caren Miosga, he insisted the troop withdrawal had nothing to do with their disagreements over Iran policy. "It may be being exaggerated a bit, but it's not new," he said, suggesting the decision was routine military planning rather than retaliation. He also acknowledged that a planned deployment of long-range Tomahawk cruise missiles to Germany—a commitment made by the previous US administration under Joe Biden—was being shelved, at least for now. The reason, Merz explained, was straightforward: American arsenals were depleted from the wars in Iran and Ukraine. "The Americans themselves don't have enough at the moment," he said matter-of-factly.
Yet even as he absorbed these setbacks, Merz was careful to preserve the possibility of future cooperation. "The train has not departed," he said, suggesting that the missile deployment could still happen down the line. He also made clear that Europe could maintain its deterrent against Russia without those particular weapons or the American troops, a subtle assertion of European independence that also served to soften the blow of their absence.
The chancellor's real concern seemed to be preventing a complete rupture with Trump. He acknowledged that he and the president had "a different view of this war," but he framed that disagreement as a matter of perspective rather than principle. He said Trump respected his right to dissent—"a little less for the moment," Merz added with a touch of wry humor—but that this did not change the fundamental reality: America remained Germany's most important partner in the North Atlantic alliance. Merz also found common ground where he could, reaffirming his commitment to preventing Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons, even if he disagreed with how the US was pursuing that goal.
Merz's careful diplomacy reflected a broader challenge facing European leaders. Trump had not confined his criticism to the German chancellor. He had mocked British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and, just days before Merz's interview, had dismissed Italy and Spain as unhelpful, calling Spain "absolutely horrible." The pattern suggested that Trump was willing to publicly humiliate European allies over policy disagreements, testing how much they would tolerate in the name of maintaining the transatlantic relationship.
For Merz, the answer was clear: quite a lot. He was betting that by refusing to escalate, by downplaying the significance of the troop withdrawal and the missile cancellation, and by repeatedly affirming his commitment to working with Trump, he could weather the storm. Whether that strategy would succeed remained to be seen, but his Sunday evening message was unmistakable: the relationship was strained, but it was not broken, and he was not giving up on it.
Citas Notables
I am not giving up on working on the transatlantic relationship. Nor am I giving up on working with Donald Trump.— Friedrich Merz, German Chancellor, in ARD interview
We have a different view of this war. That's no secret. I'm not the only one who feels that way.— Friedrich Merz, on disagreements with Trump over Iran policy
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does Merz keep insisting the troop withdrawal isn't retaliation when the timing makes it look exactly like that?
Because admitting it's retaliation would force him to choose sides—either capitulate to Trump or escalate the conflict. By treating it as routine, he leaves room to negotiate without losing face.
But doesn't that feel dishonest to German voters who can see what's happening?
Perhaps. But Merz is calculating that German voters care more about keeping America in NATO than about him winning a rhetorical point with Trump. The alternative—a real break with Washington—is worse.
What about the Tomahawk missiles? Is that a real cancellation or just postponed?
Merz says "the train has not departed," which is diplomatic language for: we'll revisit this when American arsenals are replenished. But it's also an admission that Europe can't count on that firepower right now, which is its own kind of vulnerability.
Does Merz actually believe they share the same goal on Iran?
He says they do—both want to prevent Iranian nuclear weapons. But they disagree fundamentally on method. Merz thinks the US approach is counterproductive; Trump thinks criticism of it is disloyalty. That gap hasn't closed.
What happens if Trump keeps publicly insulting him?
Merz will keep absorbing it. He's betting that patience and deference will eventually earn Trump's respect, or at least his willingness to work together. It's a gamble, but the alternative—open confrontation—could fracture NATO.