The F-35 and the Future of European Alignment

This week, the United States ambassador to Portugal, John Arrigo, delivered a suggestion that was less a procurement recommendation than a geopolitical proposition. Lisbon, he said, should replace its aging fleet of F-16 fighter aircraft with the American-made F-35 stealth jet — a move that would place the Portuguese Air Force among Europe’s “top-tier” militaries.

In ordinary times, a defence purchase would be technical. Today, it is strategic language. The debate unfolding in Lisbon captures the deeper shift now transforming Europe: military capability is becoming the currency of belonging.

Arrigo framed the decision in the vocabulary of interoperability — NATO’s preferred word for cohesion. More than 900 F-35s are already in service or on order across Europe, he noted, making the aircraft effectively a shared platform among allied forces. A fifth-generation stealth fighter, the jet would allow Portugal’s pilots to operate seamlessly alongside larger militaries.

The implication was unmistakable. Modern alliances are no longer measured only in treaties but in software compatibility, data sharing and real-time battlefield awareness. The F-35 is not simply an aircraft; it is a network node.

Portugal’s dilemma sits at the intersection of two realities. The first is NATO’s renewed centrality. The second is China’s economic presence. Over the past decade, Chinese investment flowed into the country after the eurozone debt crisis, when distressed assets attracted foreign buyers. Today Chinese companies hold substantial stakes in major Portuguese infrastructure and finance institutions, including energy and banking firms.

Washington insists it is not forcing Lisbon to choose between partners. Instead, the ambassador described a policy of “de-risking” — strengthening cybersecurity and screening strategic investment. Yet the suggestion that Portugal might leave China’s Belt and Road Initiative, as Italy did in 2023, reveals how closely economics and security have become entwined.

The aircraft debate therefore carries meaning far beyond aviation. It asks whether sovereignty in the 21st century depends less on trade openness and more on technological alignment.

Portugal has historically been a bridge nation — Atlantic, European and Lusophone. For decades its military role inside NATO was modest but stable, anchored in hosting the Lajes Air Base in the Azores. Now, however, alliance expectations are rising. Arrigo also urged Portugal to increase defense spending toward a far higher share of national output in the coming decade.

This pressure reflects a broader transformation across Europe. The continent, long oriented toward social welfare and economic integration, is rediscovering hard power. The war in Ukraine, uncertainty in American politics and tensions with China have combined to produce a security logic not seen since the Cold War — but structurally different from it.

Then, geography determined allegiance. Now, technology does.

The F-35 embodies this shift. The aircraft’s value lies not only in stealth but in information. Pilots see a composite battlefield picture assembled from sensors, satellites and allied systems. Buying the jet means entering a shared operational architecture — a digital alliance layered atop a political one.

For a smaller state like Portugal, that promise is attractive and unsettling at once. Participation offers influence and protection, yet dependence increases. A nation gains security by embedding itself more deeply in a system it cannot control.

Domestic politics will inevitably shape the decision. Portugal has not yet begun its formal selection process for replacing the F-16 fleet. The question, therefore, is not merely budgetary but philosophical: should Portugal define its future primarily as a trading economy connected to multiple partners, or as a security actor integrated tightly within Western defense structures?

Across Europe, similar choices are emerging. Neutrality is narrowing. Strategic ambiguity is harder to maintain when technology platforms define operational trust.

The debate in Lisbon illustrates a paradox of modern globalisation. Economic interdependence once promised to reduce geopolitical rivalry. Instead, it has reframed it. Supply chains, investment flows and software architectures now carry strategic meaning.

A fighter aircraft purchase would once have been a procurement decision debated in committees. Today it functions as a declaration of orientation — a statement about which networks, and which risks, a country is prepared to share.

Portugal’s leaders therefore face a decision that is, at heart, existential rather than technical. The aircraft in question flies at supersonic speed, but the choice surrounding it moves more slowly: how a small nation situates itself in an era when alliances are no longer just political commitments, but technological ecosystems.

The purchase of a jet, in other words, may define not Portugal’s air power, but its place in the emerging order.