In 2019, Defense Minister Margarita Robles formalized Spain’s entry into the €100bn ($114bn) Franco-German Future Combat Air System (FCAS) project as a “member on equal terms with its partners.” Seven years and large sums of money later, the program has fallen to earth.
For Madrid, participation in the program would have showcased Spain’s technological and defense industries, created high-skilled jobs, and signaled the political will for a greater role in Europe’s military-industrial complex. It also underscored a commitment to defense, which had often been sidelined in the domestic politics of a country that was a military dictatorship until 1975.
“The mere signing of such a significant political commitment is already an important achievement in its own right,” Robles said at the time.
So what now?
Something may be salvaged from the wreckage. Spanish companies may join Team Gen 6, a German-led coalition created to safeguard the breakthrough technology developed by the program, especially Combat Cloud, a software network to connect sensors, radars, and drones designed to meet the digitalized, contested, and technologically demanding needs of air warfare.
“This is the most significant area of interest for Spain, where Indra was playing a central role,” said Alberto Bueno, a political science professor at the University of Granada. “Though it is difficult to see how it could be developed without the New Generation Fighter as the central platform.”
Madrid has been left in limbo, without a clear fallback plan and limited room for maneuver. Spain’s combat aviation and air superiority are in jeopardy, and, unlike its counterparts, Madrid would not have the capabilities or the money to build its own aircraft.
The consequences will be felt for the next two decades, according to military and defense analyst Yago Rodríguez. “This condemns Spain to a fleet of aircraft designed in the 1980s, enhanced with drones but still falling behind Russia, China, and the US,” he said.
F-35s would provide the Spanish Air Force with a fifth-generation capability in the absence of a European alternative, Dr. Bueno said. They are widely operated by allies across the continent, enhancing interoperability with other NATO states, but Spain’s Ministry of Defense has ruled out acquiring the US-made aircraft (relations between the two countries are extremely strained).
While the decision was driven more by political and industrial rather than military considerations, the Spanish Air Force has long favored operating two different platforms to diversify supplies and reduce risks.
The reluctance is also linked to dependency on a closed system manufactured by Lockheed Martin and possible “kill switches” which would enable Washington to deactivate the aircraft remotely, raising questions about operational autonomy.
Choosing American-made weaponry would also undermine Europe’s efforts to develop its own defense industrial base and send a contradictory message about European sovereignty. The question that gave rise to FCAS was, after all, whether it was better to wait for a European solution, even if it came later, or to acquire US capabilities and accept deeper vassalage to Washington.
There are other options, not least the Global Combat Air Program (GCAP) being built by a British-Japanese-Italian joint venture. Whether that’s still possible is unclear, though Canada is interested and so is Australia.
Another option would be Turkey’s sixth-generation project TAI Kaan, but Professor Javier Jordán, at the University of Granada, warned it lacks technological maturity and is overly dependent on US-supplied components, including its engine.
Partnering with the Swedish aerospace company, Saab, which has expertise in developing advanced aerial capabilities, could offer a more promising path. “The only viable alternatives for Spain might be to join the German consortium or the Swedish, and negotiate good industrial terms for the country,” he said.
FCAS was an ambitious program, and its loss marks a grim milestone for a European defense industry seeking greater cooperation at a time of rising threats.
Launched in 2017 by French President Emmanuel Macron and German Chancellor Angela Merkel, it sought to bring together commercial arms manufacturers from the three countries to develop a system that would integrate manned fighter aircraft, drones flying in swarms, distributed sensors, and artificial intelligence.
The New Generation Fighter (NGF) lay at the heart of the initiative and was intended to complement and replace both Germany’s and Spain’s fourth-generation Eurofighter and France’s Rafale aircraft by 2040. Germany’s Airbus and France’s Dassault were set to lead the jet’s development, while Spain’s Indra would take a key role in drone and sensor technology.
But the project faced setbacks from the start, particularly over a long-standing dispute between Airbus and Dassault about intellectual property and the aircraft’s design. While Dassault pushed to retain leadership, Airbus wanted a more balanced distribution of responsibilities, technologies, and manufacturing capability.
Neither side was willing to yield because control over Europe’s future fighter would translate into greater influence over technology and manufacturing, as well as long-term revenues.
“In 2017, political desires could more easily override military necessities,” said Rafael Loss, a policy fellow at the European Council on Foreign Relations. “That is evidently no longer the case.”
In June, the German government finally pulled the plug. Despite its involvement, Spain had limited leverage in the Franco-German dispute and only learned of the cancellation from German media.
Seven years after joining FCAS as an “equal partner,” Spain finds itself with neither a sixth-generation fighter nor a clear path forward. And some experts argue the discussion about next steps could be delayed until after next year’s general election.
What was once presented as the flagship of European strategic autonomy has become a reminder of how difficult it is for the continent to translate political ambition into military capability. And Spain is counting the cost.
Natalia Hidalgo Martínez is an independent researcher and analyst. Her writing has covered transatlantic relations between the US and Europe, European security, and Latin American issues. She has interned with the Center for European Policy Analysis, the Center for Strategic and International Studies, and InSight Crime.
Europe’s Edge is CEPA’s online journal covering critical topics on the foreign policy docket across Europe and North America. All opinions expressed on Europe’s Edge are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
