Europe criticises Israel. Then it asks it to protect it

There are many ways to measure the growing rift between Israel and Europe. One can count the sanctions, the recognitions of the Palestinian state, and the bans on products from the settlements. And then there is another, less visible measure: that of the anti-missile systems, radars, drones and software that European countries continue to buy from Israel. When it comes to protecting a city, a border with Russia or a NATO base, isolating Israel becomes more complicated. According to SIPRI, between 2021 and 2025, arms imports by European NATO countries rose by 143 per cent. Israel supplied 7.7 per cent of these: it was the third-largest supplier after the United States and South Korea, ahead even of France.

The most striking example is the United Kingdom. On 8 September, London announced a ban on imports from Israeli settlements in the West Bank. Yet Sky Sabre, the British air defence system, uses MIC4AD – produced by the Israeli firm Rafael – as its command-and-control centre: this technology integrates radar, data and interceptors and belongs to the same family developed for Iron Dome. London may criticise Netanyahu. But there is a clear divide between political rhetoric and the language of security: one may condemn an Israeli policy, but it is not so straightforward to decommission what Israel has built to intercept missiles and drones.

Spain makes the contradiction even more apparent. Pedro Sánchez has adopted one of the toughest stances in Europe; he has spoken of ‘genocide’ in Gaza and, in September 2025, enacted legislation imposing an embargo on arms and dual-use goods from Israel, whilst also banning the import of goods from the settlements. Three months later, the Spanish government granted Airbus an exemption to continue using Israeli technology in its factories. The A400M, C295, A330 MRTT and SIRTAP drones manufactured in Spain use Israeli technology. Political separation can be announced overnight; technological separation cannot.

Then there is Finland, which does not have the luxury of geographical distance. Helsinki shares a 1,340-kilometre border with Russia. On 8 September, it signed the European declaration on trade restrictions against products from the settlements. Yet Israel is simultaneously Finland’s second-largest foreign defence supplier. The most significant item is David’s Sling, designed to intercept ballistic missiles, aircraft and drones: an initial contract worth 316 million euros. Helsinki also purchases Spike and Gabriel systems from Israel. When it looks towards the West Bank, it speaks the language of international law; when it looks beyond its eastern border, it speaks the language of deterrence. And in that language, Israel is hard to replace.

Germany illustrates the extent to which the continent’s security is becoming intertwined with that of Israel. In August 2025, Berlin had temporarily suspended export licences for weapons that could be used in Gaza. But when it had to choose how to protect itself from Russian missiles, it opted for Arrow 3, the Israeli-American system capable of intercepting ballistic missiles at very high altitudes. In December 2025, the agreement was expanded by a further 3.1 billion dollars, bringing the total value to around 6.7 billion.

Greece has signed a €3.035 billion agreement with Israel to build the ‘Achilles Shield’, a national defence system against aircraft, drones and missiles. It is a comprehensive Israeli system, comprising David’s Sling, Spyder, Barak MX, MMR radar and a national command and control system. Athens is entrusting Israel with a decisive role in its defence.

And this is the most interesting point. Israel does not just sell weapons to Europe. It sells expertise. For decades, it has invested in areas where Europe thought it no longer needed to learn: intercepting rockets and missiles, detecting drones and defending critical infrastructure. SIPRI points out that Israel’s areas of specialisation are air defence, intelligence and reconnaissance, drones and missiles. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Europe has realised that the needs it once considered to be specifically Israeli have now become European ones too.

None of this implies that Europe must endorse every decision taken by the Israeli government. It is possible to criticise Netanyahu, impose sanctions on violent settlers, oppose the expansion of settlements and, at the same time, collaborate with Israeli industry. The problem arises when criticism of a government gives way to the fantasy of being able to expel Israel from the West without paying any price for it.

This is the European paradox we are now facing. By day, part of Europe discusses how to distance itself from Israel. By night, its defence ministries ask Israeli experts how to intercept the next drone. In Madrid, an embargo is declared and an exception is authorised. In Helsinki, restrictions on settlements are discussed whilst the ‘Sling of David’ is purchased. In London, products from the settlements are banned whilst Rafael’s software remains active. In Berlin, the Israeli government is criticised whilst the Arrow shield is being built.

Perhaps it is not merely hypocrisy. It is also a return to reality. Europe may regard Israel as a diplomatic problem in parliaments, universities and festivals. But when it hears Russian drones approaching, observes Iranian missiles, has to protect NATO bases and tries to rebuild a forgotten deterrent, Israel once again becomes for the West what rhetoric often prevents us from seeing: an advanced laboratory of technology, intelligence and defence. One can criticise Jerusalem. It is harder to pretend we do not need it.

Missiles, radar, drones, software, air defence. The paradox of a continent that would like to distance itself from Israel but finds that, when it comes to defending itself, Israel is already part of its defences