- Alvaro Antoni

- 2 days ago
Guns without foundations
As European leaders commit to historic levels of defence spending, a structural problem is being systematically underweighted in public debate: the basic materials from which modern weapons are made are, to a remarkable degree, sourced from the very states that European rearmament is designed to deter or hedge against.
The immediate catalyst for renewed focus is the conflict environment. Russia’s ongoing war in Ukraine has driven sustained demand for artillery shells, armoured vehicles and air defence systems. More recently, the widening of the conflict in the Middle East, including developments involving Iran, has concentrated minds further on the pace of depletion and the limits of European defence industrial capacity. According to SIPRI, global defence spending rose by 9.4% between 2023 and 2024, with Germany, Poland and other NATO members driving a significant share of that increase. Orders for military equipment have risen commensurately across the Alliance, pointing to an accelerated build-out trajectory over the coming decade.
What receives considerably less attention is the material precondition for that build-out. Fighter aircraft, main battle tanks, submarines, missiles, drones, radar systems and communications infrastructure all incorporate an array of critical raw materials whose supply chains are heavily concentrated in China and, to a lesser extent, Russia. NATO itself recognised this in December 2024, releasing a list of twelve raw materials it determined were integral to the manufacture of advanced defence systems and equipment, and stating that their secure supply was vital to maintaining the Alliance’s technological edge and operational readiness. The European Commission had reached broadly similar conclusions through successive iterations of its critical raw materials list, and the EU’s own demand for rare earth metals is projected to increase six-fold by 2030 relative to 2022 baseline consumption.
Europe’s rearmament is proceeding on the assumption that the material inputs for that rearmament are accessible. That assumption is increasingly contestable.
The analytical task, then, is not to assess whether European defence spending is rising (it clearly is), but to ask whether that spending is being designed with a realistic model of the supply chain risks it will encounter. The evidence suggests it is not.
What the hardware actually requires
Modern defence platforms are materially complex in ways that are easy to underestimate. A single F-35 Lightning II combat aircraft requires more than 400 kilograms of rare earth elements in its construction, according to the US Department of War. These materials are incorporated across the aircraft’s guidance systems, communications equipment, and crucially, its permanent magnets, which are used in components exposed to extreme temperatures and pressure differentials. The relevant magnets (neodymium-iron-boron and samarium-cobalt) depend on heavy rare earths, including dysprosium, terbium, samarium and yttrium, four elements for which China accounted for the majority of global processing capacity in 2024.
Rare earths are not the only area of concern. Tungsten, of which China controls approximately 83% of global production, is used in engine components, warheads and armour-piercing munitions. Its properties, including exceptional hardness, strength and heat resistance, make substitution technically difficult in high-performance defence applications. Gallium, of which the US government noted in 2023 that its aerospace industry maintained a 100% net reliance on China as the primary source, is used in the radars, sensors and semiconductors embedded throughout modern military electronics. Antimony, heavily concentrated in Chinese processing, is a component of armour-piercing ammunition. Cobalt, though primarily extracted in the Democratic Republic of Congo, flows through a processing chain in which Chinese-owned operations play a dominant role; it is used as a superalloy base in combat aircraft propulsion systems.
Titanium presents a distinct but related vulnerability: while China is a significant producer, Russia has historically been a primary source of aerospace-grade titanium for European supply chains. In late 2024, President Putin explicitly threatened to limit Russia’s export of strategic materials, referencing uranium, nickel and titanium. The prospect of simultaneous pressure from both Eastern suppliers is not a theoretical risk scenario; it is a live one.
When translated into demand terms, the scale of the supply challenge becomes clearer. An analysis by the Payne Institute at Colorado School of Mines projected that the military equipment build-out anticipated through 2035, based on NATO procurement trajectories, would require annualised demand increases of approximately 250% for vanadium and manganese, around 200% for titanium and copper, and 80-100% for rare earths, gallium and several other materials, relative to the annualised demand implied by the existing fleet. The absolute volumes involved remain relatively modest in the context of total global consumption for most of these materials (with the notable exception of hafnium, where projected military deliveries could represent nearly 30% of current US annual consumption), but the directional signal is unambiguous.
China’s export controls: from instrument to doctrine
China has long held a structurally dominant position in critical mineral supply chains, but 2025 marked a qualitative escalation in its willingness to deploy that position as a coercive tool. The pattern that emerged was not improvised. It was incremental, escalating, and increasingly targeted at Western defence industrial capacity.
The sequence began in July 2023 with export controls on gallium and germanium, introduced in direct response to US semiconductor export restrictions. Graphite controls followed in December 2023. In December 2024, Beijing tightened its posture further, announcing a complete ban on exports of gallium, germanium and antimony to the United States and imposing heightened scrutiny on graphite exports based on end-use assessment. February 2025 brought controls on tungsten, tellurium, bismuth, indium and molybdenum, a grouping characterised by the IEA as materials primarily used in defence and high-tech applications.
The most significant escalation came in two waves during 2025. In April, China announced with immediate effect export controls on seven medium and heavy rare earth elements: samarium, gadolinium, terbium, dysprosium, lutetium, scandium and yttrium. Exporters became required to obtain individual licences from China’s Ministry of Commerce. Then, in October 2025, a second package extended controls to five additional rare earths, as well as to refining and magnet-manufacturing equipment, including, crucially, foreign-made products that had used Chinese materials or processing technology at any stage of their production. This extraterritorial dimension, extending Chinese law to products manufactured outside China, is unprecedented in scope.
Most significantly of all, the October package introduced categorical denials for defence-related end use. For the first time, China codified in regulatory form that materials subject to its export controls would not be licensed for applications in defence manufacturing. The practical effect, i.e. that European and NATO defence programmes could be formally excluded from supply, is not a theoretical risk but a stated policy position. Implementation was suspended for one year, until November 2026, following diplomatic signals from Beijing. But the suspension is not a retraction. The architecture of exclusion has been constructed; only its activation has been deferred.
The October 2025 package introduced categorical denials for defence-related end use. Europe has until November 2026 before that architecture becomes operational.
The European Central Bank assessed in this period that over 80% of large European firms were no more than three intermediaries away from a Chinese rare earth producer. European manufacturers of defence systems, electronics and automotive components were identified as particularly exposed. The IEA separately reported that rare earth prices had risen to up to six times their pre-restriction levels in some cases, with downstream effects on input costs across the broader manufacturing sector.

The policy architecture and its gaps
European policymakers have not been inattentive to these risks. The EU’s Critical Raw Materials Act, which came into force in May 2024, represents the most comprehensive legislative attempt to date to address the underlying exposure. It establishes binding benchmarks for 2030: 10% of annual EU consumption to be met by domestic extraction, 40% by domestic processing, and 25% by recycling, alongside a cap preventing any single third country from supplying more than 65% of a given strategic raw material. In March 2025, the European Commission designated 47 projects across 13 member states as strategic, granting them streamlined permitting and improved access to institutional support.
At the member state level, there has been some convergence. France’s 2024-2030 military programming law enabled the defence ministry to request the creation of industrial stockpiles of defence-relevant materials and components. Germany’s December 2024 National Security and Defence Industry Strategy committed to using the national raw materials fund to strengthen supply security for the defence sector. Spain, Italy, Poland and the UK have published strategies that variously address raw materials security, though none yet incorporates defence-specific binding targets.
The difficulty is that the gap between these frameworks and operational resilience is wide, and in several critical respects, it is widening rather than closing. The CRMA provided no new financing mechanism; it relies on directing existing instruments and on member state coordination, both of which have proven slow in practice. As of late 2025, France’s €500 million critical minerals fund had not announced a single investment. Italy’s €1 billion vehicle remained inactive. Germany’s €1 billion fund took over a year to make its first investment in December 2025. The national funds have divergent eligibility criteria, limiting cross-border collaboration and directing capital towards nationally favoured materials rather than EU-wide strategic priorities.
On permitting, the picture is similarly sobering. The CRMA introduced streamlined procedures and binding timelines for strategic projects. But designation as a strategic project does not override national environmental law or resolve local political contestation. Europe’s most significant rare earth deposit, at Kiruna in Sweden, has priority status under the CRMA; permitting is nonetheless expected to take ten to fifteen years, in part because the mine cuts across indigenous Sami reindeer migration corridors. The contrast with the urgency implied by the November 2026 suspension deadline for Chinese export controls is acute.
The most important gap, however, may be in procurement policy. The forthcoming revision of defence-related procurement rules, scheduled for the third quarter of 2026, would be the logical instrument for introducing sourcing conditionality. It should require that procurement contracts favour bidders sourcing refined or processed materials from European or diversified non-Chinese supply chains. Whether that revision will include binding conditionality of this kind remains unclear. As of now, European defence procurement proceeds largely without reference to the origin of the raw material inputs involved.
The risk of American displacement
A further complication deserves explicit attention: the risk that the United States, in pursuing its own critical minerals strategy, inadvertently displaces European access to the limited pool of non-Chinese supply. More on that here.
The US response to China’s weaponisation of mineral dependencies has been substantial and accelerating. It combines Inflation Reduction Act tax credits, Defense Production Act guarantees, equity stakes in mining and processing companies, and long-term offtake agreements that commit buyers in advance to fixed volumes of future output. The overall package has been reinforced by up to $100 billion in lending authority across key agencies, plus the February 2026 launch of Project Vault, a $12 billion public-private strategic stockpile initiative to buffer manufacturers from supply shocks.
The mechanism of displacement is not hostile; it is commercial. US offtake agreements, backed by government guarantees, offer project developers a degree of revenue certainty that European buyers cannot currently match. The consequence is that scarce non-Chinese processing capacity, which remains the binding constraint, since mining is more geographically distributed than refining, is being contracted out of European reach before Europe has built the instruments necessary to compete for it. Belgium’s Solvay, having opened a rare earth processing facility in France in April 2025, earmarked large volumes of output to US magnet manufacturers rather than European ones, citing stronger commercial commitment from US counterparts. US Rare Earth simultaneously acquired the UK-based processor Less Common Metals. These are not isolated cases; they reflect the structural logic of a US industrial policy designed to absorb available non-Chinese capacity as rapidly as possible.
Replacing dependency on Beijing with exclusive dependency on Washington is not a strategic upgrade for Europe’s critical mineral defence. The US government’s programmes are designed, first and foremost, to serve US industrial and defence priorities. If those programmes absorb the limited available pool of diversified supply through long-term commitments, Europe may find itself materially excluded from the diversification it is ostensibly pursuing.
Implications for strategy and policy: addressing Europe’s critical minerals defence gaps
The picture that emerges is of a rearmament proceeding on an unstable material foundation. European defence budgets are rising. Procurement orders are being placed. New production facilities are being announced. But the raw material supply chains on which all of this depends are subject to escalating geopolitical pressure, concentrated in adversarial or ambiguous hands, and subject to a Chinese regulatory framework that has already codified the possibility of their denial for defence end-use.
Several implications follow. The first is that defence planning timelines and supply chain risk assessments need to be integrated more rigorously. The November 2026 reactivation date for China’s October 2025 export control package should be treated as a planning constraint, not a background development. That is a matter of months, not years. The industrial response to a formal denial of Chinese rare earth supply for European defence manufacturing would require years of lead time that have not been invested.
The second is that procurement conditionality is the most immediately actionable lever. The upcoming revision of defence procurement rules offers a concrete opportunity to introduce binding sourcing requirements that direct contracts towards certified-origin materials. This would also serve as a demand anchor for European and diversified supply chains, creating the offtake certainty that project developers currently receive from US counterparties and that European buyers do not yet offer. The political will to move in this direction has been signalled but not yet operationalised.
The third concerns coordination with Washington. The risk of US offtake crowding out European access is real but not inevitable. A coordinated allied approach to critical mineral security, one that allocates non-Chinese processing capacity between transatlantic partners rather than competing for it, would serve both parties’ interests more effectively than the current dynamic of competitive absorption. The Forum on Resource Geostrategic Engagement (FORGE), successor to the Minerals Security Partnership, offers a forum; its effectiveness depends on whether its members are willing to treat allied supply allocation as a joint problem.
The fourth is that the investment gap at the EU level needs to be acknowledged for what it is. The €3 billion RESourceEU initiative represents real but insufficient progress. The transformational opportunity lies with the next Multiannual Financial Framework, where the Commission’s proposal allocates €115.7 billion to resilience, security, defence and space from 2028 to 2034, compared with €25.3 billion in the current framework. The share earmarked specifically for critical raw materials remains to be determined through political negotiation. Given the stakes, that determination should be treated as a security decision, not merely a budgetary one. More on that here.
Europe has a narrow window (measured in months, not years) to close the gap between its defence ambitions and the material supply chains those ambitions require.
The wars on Europe’s doorstep and beyond its near neighbourhood are making clear that the physical capacity to produce and sustain military capability is not a contingency, but a first-order strategic requirement. Rare earths, tungsten, gallium and their counterparts are not exotic footnotes to that requirement. They are its precondition. A rearmament programme that does not address its own material foundations is not a security strategy; it is an aspiration.
Organisations seeking to translate these dynamics into an actionable strategy, whether to advance specific projects, to inform policy design, to structure investments, or to navigate regulatory and financing pathways across jurisdictions, are invited to contact AAP Consulting for further discussion.
References
Arthur Leichthammer. “The EU’s Critical Raw Materials Predicament: ReSourceEU to the Rescue?” Jacques Delors Centre, December 2025. https://www.delorscentre.eu/en/publications/detail/publication/the-eus-critical-raw-materials-predicament.
Danish Institute for International Studies (DIIS). “Military Minerals: Europe’s New Defence Industrial Capacities Demand Reliable Supply Chains.” DIIS Policy Brief, February 2026 (by Luke Patey). https://www.diis.dk/en/research/military-minerals-europes-new-defense-industrial-capacities-demand-reliable-supply-chains.
European Court of Auditors (ECA). Special Report 04/2026: Critical Raw Materials for the Energy Transition — Not a Rock-Solid Policy. February 2026. https://www.eca.europa.eu/en/publications?ref=SR-2026-04.
International Energy Agency (IEA). Global Critical Minerals Outlook 2025. Paris: IEA, May 2025. https://www.iea.org/reports/global-critical-minerals-outlook-2025.
International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS). Critical Raw Materials and European Defence. London: IISS, March 2025. https://www.iiss.org/research-paper/2025/03/critical-raw-materials-and-european-defence.
Joris Teer. “False sense of security: European complacency on rare earths is the wrong answer to the US-China trade truce.” EU Institute for Security Studies (EUISS) Commentary, November 2025. https://www.iss.europa.eu/publications/commentary/false-sense-security-european-complacency-rare-earths-wrong-answer-us-china.
NATO. “Defence-Critical Supply Chain Security Roadmap.” Factsheet, July 2024. https://www.nato.int/content/dam/nato/webready/documents/factsheets/240712-Factsheet-Defence-Supply-Chain-Roadmap-en.pdf.
Payne Institute for Public Policy, Colorado School of Mines. “The State of Critical Minerals Report 2025.” September 2025. https://payneinstitute.mines.edu/the-state-of-critical-minerals-report-2025.
Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI). “Unprecedented Rise in Global Military Expenditure as European and Middle East Spending Surges.” SIPRI Fact Sheet, April 2025. https://www.sipri.org/media/press-release/2025/unprecedented-rise-global-military-expenditure-european-and-middle-east-spending-surges.


