By any conventional measure, Europe is not a party to the US–Israeli war on Iran. European soldiers are not storming the Iranian plateau; European jets are not striking missile bases near Tehran. And yet, as the conflict widens from days to weeks, Europe already finds itself standing in the blast radius.
Wars in the Middle East rarely remain regional for long. This one may prove particularly consequential for Europe—not only geopolitically, but economically, politically and socially. From energy markets to migration routes, from NATO alliances to the rise of populist politics, the war’s reverberations are already rippling across the continent.
The first tremor is strategic. Europe is deeply divided over the war itself. The European Union issued a cautious call for “maximum restraint,” reflecting the difficulty of forging consensus among 27 states with sharply differing instincts about the conflict.
At one pole of the debate stands Germany’s chancellor, Friedrich Merz, who has made little secret of his support for Israel’s campaign against Iran and for the broader Western effort to neutralize Tehran’s military capabilities. For many in Berlin’s strategic community, the logic is straightforward: Iran’s nuclear ambitions and regional proxy network pose a threat not just to Israel but to Western security.
Merz’s position fits comfortably within Germany’s post-war strategic doctrine: solidarity with Israel, alignment with Washington, and a belief that geopolitical stability sometimes requires hard power. His approach echoes a remark he once made about Israel confronting Iran—that it was “the dirty work… for all of us.”
Yet at the other end of Europe’s political spectrum stands Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez. His government has refused to allow the US to use Spanish military bases for operations linked to the war, has condemned the strikes as an escalation and warned that they risk plunging the region into chaos. Sanchez went further, accusing Washington of playing “Russian roulette with the destiny of millions.”
The clash between these two positions—Merz’s Atlanticist realism and Sanchez’s principled dissent—illustrates a deeper European dilemma: the continent lacks a unified strategic doctrine for the Middle East. And yet the consequences of the war will reach Europe regardless of whether it can agree on one.
The most immediate shockwave is economic. The Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly a fifth of global oil flows, has already been disrupted amid Iranian retaliation and shipping warnings. Oil prices have risen sharply as a result, with crude reportedly climbing more than 12% in the first week of fighting.
For Europe—still navigating the economic aftershocks of Russia’s war in Ukraine—this could not come at a worse time.
European economies remain unusually vulnerable to energy shocks. The continent spent the past three years scrambling to replace Russian gas supplies, building LNG terminals and diversifying imports. But the underlying structural problem remains: Europe imports the vast majority of its energy.
If shipping through Hormuz becomes severely constrained, Europe will feel it quickly—in higher fuel costs, renewed inflation, and slowing economic growth. The European Bank for Reconstruction and Development has already warned that the conflict threatens global investment sentiment and economic momentum.
Central banks, which have only recently begun cautiously loosening monetary policy after years of inflation, could find themselves trapped again. A prolonged energy spike would complicate interest-rate decisions and potentially stall Europe’s fragile recovery.
However, economics may not be the most politically explosive consequence of the war. Migration, on the other hand, could be.
Every major Middle Eastern conflict in the past quarter century—from Iraq to Syria—has produced waves of displacement that eventually reach Europe’s borders. The Iran war could do the same, particularly if fighting spreads across the region or destabilizes neighboring states such as Iraq, Lebanon, or the Gulf monarchies.
The numbers could be staggering. Iran alone has a population of nearly 90 million people. Even a relatively small proportion seeking refuge would place enormous pressure on Europe’s migration systems—systems that remain politically fragile after the 2015 refugee crisis.
And migration, in Europe, rarely remains a humanitarian question for long. It rapidly becomes a political one.
Across the continent, populist and far-right parties have built their electoral success around the politics of borders, identity, and migration control. From the Alternative for Germany to Italy’s nationalist right, from Marine Le Pen’s movement in France to hardline factions in Scandinavia, immigration remains the single most potent catalyst of political upheaval.
A surge in asylum-seekers linked to a new Middle Eastern war could supercharge
these movements.
The political paradox is striking. The same geopolitical instability that prompts European governments to support—or tolerate—military intervention abroad often ends up destabilizing domestic politics at home.
Europe experienced this dynamic after the Syrian war. It could experience it again, perhaps more intensely. The war also carries financial implications that stretch far beyond energy prices.
Global markets are notoriously sensitive to geopolitical risk. Investors are already recalibrating expectations, with heightened volatility in commodities, shipping and defense sectors.
European companies with exposure to Middle Eastern markets—from logistics firms to infrastructure investors—may face disruptions. Insurance costs for maritime shipping could spike if the Gulf becomes a contested zone. Supply chains, already strained by years of geopolitical fragmentation, may tighten further.
In other words, even if Europe is not firing missiles in the Gulf, its economy will still be entangled in the consequences.
The strategic implications may prove even more profound. For years, European policymakers have spoken about the need for “strategic autonomy”—the ability to pursue independent foreign policy decisions rather than simply aligning with Washington. Yet the Iran war reveals how elusive that ambition remains.
Europe has influence but limited leverage. It depends on American military power for security through NATO. It relies on Middle Eastern energy supplies. And it struggles to project unified diplomatic power when member states disagree about fundamental questions of war and peace.
The contrast between Merz and Sanchez captures this dilemma in miniature. Germany views the transatlantic alliance as the bedrock of European security and therefore instinctively supports Washington’s strategic priorities. Spain, by contrast, sees an opportunity—and perhaps a duty—to assert a more independent European voice.
Neither position is entirely comfortable. Merz’s alignment with Washington risks entangling Europe in conflicts it did not choose. Sanchez’s defiance risks isolating Europe from the very alliance that guarantees its security.
Yet both leaders are responding to the same uncomfortable reality: Europe is deeply affected by conflicts in the Middle East but rarely determines their course.
And so Europe finds itself in a familiar position—geographically distant from the battlefield but economically, politically, and strategically exposed to its consequences. The longer the war lasts, the sharper those consequences will become.
Energy prices could surge. Migration pressures could mount. Populist movements could gain momentum. Transatlantic tensions could widen. For a continent already grappling with war on its eastern flank and political fragmentation within its own borders, the Iran conflict represents not merely another foreign crisis.
It represents a stress test. The coming weeks will reveal whether Europe can navigate that test with unity—or whether, once again, events in the Middle East will deepen the fractures already running through the European project.
Europe may not be fighting this war. But it will almost certainly have to live with its aftermath.
There is no such thing as bad insurance only bad premiums. The City of London should thrive on this.