Europe's fighter jet ambitions fracture as France, Germany abandon joint venture

Europe's ambition to build a unified fighter jet for the twenty-first century has fractured into competing national projects, undoing years of diplomatic effort and raising the prospect of wasteful duplication across the continent. The collapse came in June when Germany's Friedrich Merz and France's Emmanuel Macron abandoned their joint future combat air system after eight years of negotiation, a failure that has left defence planners scrambling to salvage what they can from the wreckage.

The partnership had been meant to embody a larger vision. Mario Draghi, the former European Central Bank president and Italian prime minister, had argued that Europe could only compete economically with the United States and China if its nations stopped building separate versions of the same weapons and instead pooled resources and technology. The fighter jet programme was supposed to be the proof of concept. Instead, it became a case study in why that vision remains elusive. The immediate cause was a dispute between France's Dassault Aviation and Germany's Airbus Defence and Space over who would lead the programme. France also wanted a smaller jet capable of operating from its aircraft carriers—a requirement Germany, which has no carriers, did not share. The final blow came last week when Safran, France's engine maker, announced it was ending its joint engine development with Germany's MTU Aero Engines.

The wreckage leaves Europe in an awkward position as the world's militaries race to develop sixth-generation fighters. The UK, Italy, and Japan are moving forward with the Tempest programme, a jet designed to incorporate artificial intelligence, advanced stealth, and swarms of autonomous drones. The United States is developing the F47, named after Donald Trump, the current president. France has signalled it will proceed alone, with Dassault's chief executive, Éric Trappier, saying a next-generation combat jet could be built solely in France or with other partners, with a demonstrator flying as early as 2031. Germany, meanwhile, faces an uncomfortable choice: build its own fighter at enormous cost, or seek admission to the Tempest programme as a secondary partner.

The economics of fighter jet development make fragmentation particularly dangerous. A successful programme typically requires orders for around 600 aircraft to justify the development costs. France operates 228 Rafale fighters. No single European air force comes close to the order volumes needed to sustain an independent programme. A European defence executive recently acknowledged that Europe could theoretically end up with three separate fighter jets—the Tempest, a French jet, and a German one—but called the prospect "not ideal." Industry consultants are blunter. "There's no order book for it," one UK-based consultant said. "You need an order book to make these economical." Even two European fighters seems unlikely given the strained economics.

France's path forward is uncertain. Dassault could develop what some analysts describe as a "Rafale plus"—an upgraded version with newer radar, weapons, and digital systems—but without a complete redesign it would struggle to match the stealth capabilities of true sixth-generation jets. A Rafale upgrade already in development for the early 2030s will be able to work alongside stealth drones, which may be sufficient for France's needs. But whether a crewed fighter will remain relevant by 2035, when these jets are expected to enter service, remains an open question across all air forces. The emerging consensus is that crewed fighters will survive, but surrounded by swarms of autonomous "loyal wingmen" drones that can be sent into danger while the crewed jet remains at a distance.

Germany's options are narrowing. Joining the Tempest programme as a full core partner would require reopening negotiations with the UK, Italy, and Japan—a process that could introduce delays. Canada joined Tempest at the Farnborough airshow in July, but only as an observer, a status that offers access to future products but not the politically valuable manufacturing jobs that come with core partnership. Saudi Arabia is also pushing to join, though its lack of technological contribution and human rights record make it a controversial candidate. Some Tempest partners are open to Germany. Leonardo, Italy's lead defence company, said Germany would be a "positive element" and "the strongest financial partner in Europe," though adding another core member carries the risk of delays. Rolls-Royce, which is building the Tempest's engines, suggested Germany's involvement would not harm the programme, though it stopped short of committing to sharing work with MTU.

Airbus Defence and Space, Germany's lead contractor, has signalled it would only join a programme where it could secure "a significant portion of the work and the leadership." That condition may prove difficult to meet. The Tempest partners set up a joint venture called Edgewing specifically to avoid the workshare disputes that destroyed the France-Germany partnership. Marco Zoff, Edgewing's chief executive, described the arrangement as "having all our fights at the start," clearing the way for rapid development toward a 2035 operational date. Reopening those negotiations risks repeating the delays that plagued earlier European efforts.

The pattern is not new. In the early 1980s, European nations attempted to build a fourth-generation fighter together. France, Italy, Spain, West Germany, and Britain joined forces, but disputes over workshare and design capabilities eventually fractured the partnership. France walked away and built the Rafale independently. The other four nations continued with the Eurofighter Typhoon, which first flew thirty years ago and is still in development. Kevin Craven, chief executive of ADS, the UK aerospace and defence lobby group, acknowledged the stakes. "Very expensive platforms require collaboration," he said. "There's a realisation across Europe and Nato" of that necessity. Yet as summer ends and defence executives return from holiday, the clock is ticking. Without rapid agreement on a unified approach, Europe risks repeating the mistakes of the past—building multiple competing fighters that must all compete for export orders, a fragmentation that Mario Draghi warned against and that no one in the industry believes serves Europe's interests.