The Trump administration is considering a restructuring of America's military footprint across NATO, potentially pulling troops and resources from allied nations that refused to support U.S. operations against Iran while rewarding those that stood with Washington, Breitbart News reported, citing a Wall Street Journal account based on unnamed administration officials.
The reported options include shifting American military assets away from countries like Germany and Spain, both of which drew White House frustration over the past month, and toward allies such as Greece, Lithuania, Poland, and Romania, whose governments backed the U.S. during the Iran conflict.
If the reports prove accurate, the move would mark the most concrete step yet in a broader reassessment of NATO's value to the United States, a reassessment that has accelerated sharply since European capitals began obstructing American military access during active operations in the Middle East.
The list of allied obstruction is long enough to read like a parody of collective defense. Spain, under Socialist Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, initially refused to let the U.S. military use Spanish bases to launch Iranian operations. Madrid then went further, barring American Air Force planes from even transiting Spanish airspace en route to the Middle East.
Spain's resistance did not begin with the Iran conflict. Last year, Sánchez's government became the only NATO ally in Europe to refuse President Trump's call to raise defense spending to five percent of GDP. Before that, as the transatlantic rift over Iran deepened, Spain had long been among the nations failing to meet even the two-percent-of-GDP floor.
Sánchez styled himself as the war's top critic in Europe. The White House noticed.
Britain's Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer initially refused access to British bases as well. London later relented, but only partially, allowing what it called "defensive" operations to be launched from bases on UK soil. France and Italy, meanwhile, were accused of denying the U.S. access to their airspace. Both nations also refused to join an international coalition to police the Strait of Hormuz until the conflict is resolved.
Germany presented a mixed picture. Berlin did allow the U.S. to use German bases for Iranian operations. But Germany's top political figures openly undermined the campaign. Chancellor Friedrich Merz accused President Trump of having engaged in a "massive escalation with an open outcome" and declared flatly that "this is not our war."
German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier went further, calling the conflict a "disastrous mistake" by the United States and claiming it breached international law.
President Trump did not leave his frustration to back channels. On Wednesday, he posted on Truth Social:
"NATO wasn't there when we needed them, and they won't be there if we need them again. Remember Greenland, that big, poorly run, piece of ice."
The Greenland reference carries its own weight. The administration has clashed repeatedly with Denmark over the strategic Arctic territory, and Trump has previously pressed the issue of Greenland's control as a matter of American security interest. European analysts have pointed to the Greenland dispute as another pressure point in the broader U.S.-NATO relationship.
The president's post came the same week the Wall Street Journal reported the White House was actively reviewing restructuring options. The convergence of public rhetoric and private planning suggests this is more than venting.
NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte visited the White House in what appeared to be an effort to mend ties. Rutte told CNN he "could see" why Trump was disappointed with NATO allies, while insisting that the "large majority of European nations have been helpful" during the conflict.
That framing, acknowledging the president's frustration while trying to shield the alliance from wholesale consequences, captures the awkward position NATO leadership now occupies. Rutte cannot deny the refusals. He can only argue they were the exception, not the rule.
But when the exceptions include some of the alliance's largest and wealthiest members, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, the United Kingdom, the "large majority" defense starts to look thin. The countries that came through, like Greece, Lithuania, Poland, and Romania, are smaller economies that have consistently taken the alliance's mutual-defense obligations seriously. They may now be rewarded with an increased American military presence.
The White House is not alone in questioning NATO's utility. In recent weeks, top figures within the Republican Party establishment, including former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo and former White House Press Secretary Ari Fleischer, have begun to question the value NATO provides to the United States.
That shift matters. For decades, NATO skepticism lived on the margins of Republican foreign policy. The alliance was treated as a sacred pillar of the post-World War II order, defended reflexively by both parties. The Iran conflict appears to have changed the calculus. When allies refuse basing rights and airspace access during an active military campaign, the gap between the alliance's promise and its performance becomes impossible to ignore.
Trump himself has gone further than any president in publicly entertaining withdrawal. He told reporters he was "absolutely" weighing a NATO exit and planned a primetime address on the alliance's failures. Whether troop reductions serve as a prelude to something larger or as leverage to force compliance remains an open question.
The geopolitical consequences of restructuring NATO extend well beyond the Persian Gulf. The Strait of Hormuz, the narrow waterway through which a massive share of global oil transits, remains a flashpoint. France and Italy's refusal to join a policing coalition there leaves the burden squarely on the U.S. Navy and whatever willing partners can be assembled.
Trump had already put NATO on notice over the Strait of Hormuz, telling China it should contribute as well. That message, aimed simultaneously at freeloading allies and rival powers, reflects a broader doctrine: if the alliance cannot share the burden, the alliance will be reshaped around those who can.
The Greenland dimension adds another layer. Denmark's handling of the territory has generated its own friction, with reports that Copenhagen drew up secret plans to demolish Greenland runways to block U.S. military aircraft. That kind of behind-the-scenes obstruction from a nominal ally reinforces the administration's case that the current arrangement is not working.
The Wall Street Journal report, as described, relied on unnamed administration officials and did not specify exact troop numbers, timelines, or the full list of countries under review. The precise policy options on the table remain undisclosed. No formal announcement has been made, and the White House has not publicly confirmed the details.
What is clear is the direction. The administration is cataloging who helped and who didn't. Countries that obstructed American operations face the prospect of reduced U.S. military presence. Countries that honored their commitments stand to gain.
That is not a radical proposition. It is the most basic principle of any alliance: you show up when it counts, or you accept the consequences when you don't.
For decades, NATO members collected the benefits of American defense guarantees while skimping on their own commitments. The Iran conflict stripped the pretense bare. An alliance that won't open its airspace during a shooting conflict is not an alliance, it's a subsidy. And the bill just came due.