In her State of the Union address on September 16, 2026, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen proposed paving the way for Canada to become the European Union’s first “associate member.” The following day, in an address to the European Parliament, Prime Minister Mark Carney welcomed the idea, while making clear that Canada was not seeking full membership and that any agreement would be put to a vote in the Canadian Parliament. The details of this status, for which the EU treaties make no provision, are to be worked out at the Canada-European Union Summit in Montreal on October 29 and 30. The task is particularly delicate because the initiative comes from the Commission, whose authority in defence matters is contested, to varying degrees, by several member states. Unless the national capitals, which retain control over budgets and programs, are closely involved, the status of associate membership risks joining the long list of unrealized political ambitions.
What should the defence component of the Montreal agreement contain? My argument is simple: associate membership will be meaningful only if it gives Canada access to the instruments that now shape European defence, foremost among them the European Defence Industry Programme (EDIP) and its projects of common interest. Without that access, Canada will remain a customer of European industry and an occasional partner. With such access, Canada can become a co-producer of the capabilities Europe will be funding over the next decade, in return for what it already contributes as a security provider. Associate membership should also clarify Canada’s role in other areas of the Common Security and Defence Policy, from missions and operations to Permanent Structured Cooperation (PESCO) projects. Canada currently participates in only one such project, on military mobility. This analysis nonetheless focuses on the industrial dimension, because European rules are most restrictive for third countries in this area, and the timeline is particularly pressing.
The analysis begins with the context behind the transatlantic desire for closer Canada–Europe ties. It then examines the existing cooperation framework and its limitations, identifies five areas in which future procurement plans and operational needs are complementary, and concludes with the conditions for success and the risks of implementation.
Why a Closer Partnership Now?
Four dynamics explain the urgency of deepening the strategic partnership between Canada and the European Union and set the priorities for its defence component.
The first is the rapid deterioration of Europe’s security environment. Russia’s campaign of sabotage, arson, cyberattacks, and jamming, long kept below the threshold likely to trigger a response, is growing in intensity and audacity. In April, London disclosed an operation in which specialized Russian submarines were monitoring British undersea cables and pipelines. In August, a drone loaded with explosives was found at Leipzig Airport, an attempt Berlin attributed to the Kremlin. Addressing the Sejm on September 17, Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk warned, citing allied intelligence, that Moscow is preparing drone and missile strikes against countries that support Ukraine. These strikes would be presented as “accidental” in order to paralyze any invocation of NATO’s Article 5. That same week, the Polish military recovered a Russian drone carrying a military payload off its coast, and NATO fighter jets shot down a drone over Lithuania. The threat is thus moving beyond sabotage toward increasingly coercive actions against allied territory. Several European intelligence agencies even estimate that Russia could rebuild the forces needed for a regional confrontation with NATO by the end of the decade. In the meantime, Moscow is testing allied reactions and extracting concessions, shaping the environment to its advantage as confrontation gradually gives way to open conflict.
The second dynamic is the increasingly evident U.S. disengagement. According to NBC News, the Pentagon is considering withdrawing roughly 25,000 troops, nearly a third of the approximately 80,000 U.S. soldiers stationed in Europe. It would follow the June 3 decision to reduce the forces the United States would make available to NATO in a conflict, including fighter jets, aerial refuelling aircraft, and surface ships, by roughly one-third to one-half. The Pentagon’s review of the U.S. posture in Europe is continuing and is expected to be completed by the end of the year. The Montreal summit will therefore take place as the United States moves toward reducing its capabilities in the European theatre and doubts grow about its security guarantee in the event of an attack. Chancellor Merz acknowledged as much on September 17, stating that the era of unconditional transatlantic friendship was “probably over” for the foreseeable future.
The third trend is European rearmament, initiated in response to Russian imperialism and accelerated by the uncertainty surrounding the U.S. security guarantee. At The Hague, NATO allies committed to allocating 5% of their GDP to defence and security by 2035. Under its “Preparedness by 2030” plan, the EU aims to mobilize up to €800 billion, including €150 billion in joint loans alongside greater national budgetary flexibility. Through its defence industry program and projects of common interest, it is also building its own capability-planning framework. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has gone a step further by proposing a European Security Council, an emergency consultation clause, and an instrument dedicated to funding strategic enablers. Negotiations on the 2028–2034 multiannual financial framework follow the same logic. The Commission proposes to allocate €131 billion to defence and space, five times the current amount, within a European Competitiveness Fund whose defence window would succeed the EDIP. The scale of the effort remains contested, however, between the “frugal” states and advocates of an ambitious common budget.
This rearmament also constitutes an industrial policy, accompanied by a preference for European suppliers. The EDIP, adopted in December 2025, is its clearest expression. To qualify for funding, a company must be established in the European Union or in a European Economic Area (EEA) country (Norway, Iceland, and Liechtenstein), and its design authority must, as a general rule, be located there. A country such as Canada is therefore not excluded, but its role is limited: its companies may supply up to 35% of a system’s components, without being eligible for funding or having control over the design. The paradox, as Anand Sundar points out, is that a system designed in Europe and containing 35% American components is eligible, whereas an entirely Canadian system is not. Under the EDIP, the only exception granted so far has been to Ukraine, for which member states have made specific provisions. Canada, for its part, benefits from a special agreement under SAFE. European preference thus creates not so much a closed market as a hierarchy of roles.
The fourth key dynamic is Canada’s desire to diversify its partnerships with Europe while continuing to serve as a security provider for the region. Diversification has become a necessity: trade talks with Washington broke down in August, U.S. tariffs have reached 50%, and President Trump has warned that he could view Canada’s association with the EU as a “hostile act” justifying retaliatory tariffs against Europe. Ottawa laid the groundwork for this rapprochement with the Security and Defence Partnership of June 2025, the agreement to take part in SAFE, the Defence Industrial Strategy of February 2026, and the July decision to acquire a German–Norwegian submarine. But Canada is not coming to the Montreal summit merely as a supplicant seeking market access. It leads the NATO multinational brigade in Latvia, trains and equips Ukrainian forces, and is the fourth-largest provider of economic and military aid to Ukraine. This dual role, as both a customer and a contributor, underpins its claim to a status the EU has yet to grant anyone. Its military weight, moreover, is underestimated: at 2% of GDP, its defence budget is exceeded only amongst EU member-states by those of Germany, France, Italy, and Poland, and it is set to grow significantly by the end of the decade.
A European Framework to Which Canada Has Only Partial Access
Three European instruments govern, or are poised to govern, third-country access to the defence industry; Canada currently has access only to the first. SAFE (Security Action for Europe) is a €150 billion loan facility for joint procurement. Adopted in May 2025, it offers member states long-term loans, backed by the EU budget, to finance joint acquisitions in priority areas (ammunition, air defence, drones, maritime capabilities). A content rule caps the share of components from third countries at 35%, unless a bilateral agreement exists with the country concerned. The bilateral agreement concluded on June 15, 2026, allows Canadian entities and products to participate in contracts financed by SAFE, either as prime contractors or subcontractors. It is the only legal channel currently available through these instruments, and a short-term one, since the funds will be largely committed by 2030.
The second instrument is the EDIP, with its European Defence Projects of Common Interest (EDPCIs). Regulation (EU) 2025/2643 allows the Council to designate collaborative projects that receive dedicated funding and have their own governance structure. On July 3, the Commission proposed an initial list of five projects open to member states, Norway and Ukraine. The member states’ ambassadors formally approved the list on September 28, making these projects eligible for EDIP funding. EEA countries associated with the program may participate without voting rights. Canada, however, does not have this status, and the SAFE agreement does not extend to it.
The third instrument, the European Instrument for Strategic Enablers, was announced in the State of the Union address on September 16. It targets air and missile defence, strategic transport, aerial refuelling, space and cyber, in alignment with NATO. For now, it has no budget, no legal basis, and no timeline. Canada would have much to contribute: it has ordered nine CC-330 Husky refuelling aircraft and is negotiating the purchase of six Saab GlobalEye airborne early warning aircraft, the system that France and NATO have just selected to replace their AWACS. The instrument’s third-country access clause has yet to be drafted, presenting an opportunity to shape it. Given the legislative calendar, the access terms of existing instruments are unlikely to be revised before the end of the legislative term. New partnership rules can still be built into initiatives that have yet to launch.
Alongside these instruments is the proposed European Security Council, a leaders’ forum that would include Canada, Norway, Ukraine, and the United Kingdom, with an emergency consultation clause. It would therefore give Canada a voice at the level of heads of state and government. Combined with access to European defence programs, this political status would give substance to the idea put forward in Strasbourg.
Bringing Canada into the EDIP
To deepen Canada–Europe cooperation, Canada’s association with the EDIP must become central to the defence component of its associate membership. The parties should commit to negotiating an agreement governing Canada’s association with the EDIP, modelled on Norway’s participation, that would allow Canada to take part in projects of common interest without voting rights and make it eligible for funding under Article 35. There is a precedent: member states have granted Ukraine exemptions under both the EDIP and SAFE, and nothing prevents them from doing the same for an ally as trusted as Canada. The agreement should also commit the parties to including Canada in the EDIP’s successor, within the defence window of the European Competitiveness Fund, as soon as negotiations on the next financial framework begin. Otherwise, the current rules may be carried over unchanged. Failing an agreement, a Council decision could authorize Canada’s participation in designated EDPCIs as a partner country. At the same time, Canada should conclude an administrative arrangement with the European Defence Agency comparable to those in place for Norway, Switzerland, and the United States, providing access to capability forums, ad hoc projects, and work on energy and the environment. On the operational side, Ottawa should seek admission to new PESCO projects beyond military mobility, starting with those related to the Arctic and early warning, such as ACCESS and TWISTER. These do not fall under the Agency’s remit and therefore require no prior arrangement.
This access must be reciprocal. Canada should commit to opening its major procurement programs to European suppliers on terms equivalent to those enjoyed by Canadian suppliers under SAFE, while shifting its Industrial and Technological Benefits policy toward mechanisms for co-development and qualification within European supply chains. It should also align its export control regime with the EU’s and agree, as EEA countries do, to contribute financially to the programs in which it participates. For its part, the EU should apply to Canadian entities in open programs the same content and security-of-supply rules it applies to associated countries, without discrimination based on location outside the EU.
None of this will work without an adequate information security framework. The 2005 Canada-EU Agreement on Information Security should be updated to cover the information exchanges that EDPCIs require, and a permanent channel should be established between the Communications Security Establishment and the relevant European cybersecurity bodies.
The agreement should also establish a Canada-EU Defence Industry Council, co-chaired by the Defence Investment Agency of Canada and the Commission’s Directorate-General for Defence Industry and Space. The Council would adopt sector-specific roadmaps (space, maritime, drones, munitions, data) with targets and deadlines, and report to the annual Canada–EU summit. The lead member states of the EDPCI should be involved in its work, since most of the budgets fall under their authority rather than the Commission’s.
One safeguard should underpin this planning: a clause ensuring design independence from U.S. export controls. Joint projects included in the roadmaps would be designed, wherever technically feasible, to avoid components subject to the U.S. International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR), and the parties would consult each other before any integration decision that creates such a dependency. This clause is the cornerstone of the initiative: it alone makes Canada’s involvement compatible with European strategic autonomy, and with the strategic autonomy Canada seeks for itself. To demonstrate this, the parties could agree to jointly design at least one system free of any component subject to U.S. export controls.
Launching Mature Cooperation Initiatives Without Delay
The most durable cooperation builds on programs already funded on both sides and on operational needs that neither party can meet alone. Rather than draw up a wish list, the parties should align three elements: what Canada is preparing to acquire, what Europe is preparing to fund, and what the forces on both sides need to deter threats and prevail in the event of conflict. This exercise leads us to propose five main areas of cooperation.
Submarine Warfare
The selection of the Type 212CD, announced on July 6, 2026, brings Canada into an existing German–Norwegian program. Contract negotiations, scheduled to be completed by the end of 2027 with initial deliveries planned for 2034, will cover pricing, delivery sequencing, the division of labour, intellectual property, and in-service support. On the European side, the Integrated Maritime and Seabed Defence EDPCI has the longest horizon (through 2045) and is one of the largest (€43 billion to €72 billion). It already brings together Germany, Norway, and fifteen other countries to pool expertise in maritime operations, submarine warfare, and the protection of undersea infrastructure.
The complementarity is clear: Canada brings its geography and a future fleet, and Europe brings the platform and collaborative funding. The risk is that the Canadian industrial benefits from this acquisition will take the form of national offsets rather than integration into European supply chains, and that Europe’s highly fragmented naval market will shut its doors on the newcomer. One solution is to use this multi-decade contract to position Canada as a co-producer, rather than merely a buyer, of European submarines. This could involve, for example, delegated design authority over the modules specific to the submarines supplied to Canada; a modification licence covering in-service support, upgrades, and the integration of new systems; the integration of Canadian suppliers into TKMS’s global supply chain; or the co-development of submarine-related capabilities such as missiles, sensors, and unmanned systems. In-service support is probably the most accessible option in the short term. Coordinating maintenance among the three navies and giving German and Norwegian submarines easier access to Canadian facilities during port calls would be better addressed through bilateral arrangements than through the multilateral framework, but the two will need to be coordinated.
In the submarine domain, then, the agreement should formalize Canada’s participation in the Integrated Maritime and Seabed Defence EDPCI as a partner country. A Canada–Germany–Norway program committee for the 212CD class should address common configuration, heavy torpedoes, upgrades, and in-service support, to keep the three fleets from diverging too far. Canada would contribute sensors, satellite data, and its future submarines and unmanned systems.
Drones and Counter-Drone Capabilities
The DECODER EDPCI (€3.5 billion to €5 billion through 2033) brings together 26 member states, Norway, and Ukraine around the joint procurement of unmanned systems and counter-drone capabilities, the expansion of production capacity, and a European network of drone technology hubs. It is the most inclusive project and the least dominated by national champions. The Canadian Armed Forces, for their part, have urgent and unmet needs for tactical drones, base air defence against drones, and consumable systems. Ottawa has just launched the Defence Drone Initiative (DDI), a mechanism for rapid access to a wide range of capabilities: intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) drones; ground, underwater, and surface maritime systems; interceptors; munitions and explosive charges; and deep-strike precision systems.
The complementarity extends to both industry and capabilities. Canadian SMEs specializing in autonomy, sensors, and onboard processing could enter European supply chains, while European firms could enter Canadian ones. This would strengthen supply-chain resilience, expand production capacity, and facilitate technology sharing. It is in this spirit that Canada has signed an agreement with Ukraine to jointly produce drones and counter-drone systems, under which one-third of the drones produced in Canada will go to Ukraine.
Canada could thus join the DECODER EDPCI and have at least one Canadian test site integrated into the European network of drone technology hubs. Such a site would offer what few European centres can: the harsh climate and vast open spaces of the Far North, which allow flights that Europe’s dense territory makes difficult. It would also benefit from links to the operational experimentation networks run by the European Defence Agency. A joint procurement of counter-drone systems involving Canada and at least two member states should be launched under SAFE, with production shared between the two continents. The parties should also agree on mutual recognition of autonomy certifications and safety standards for unmanned systems, an important prerequisite for interoperability and market access. Finally, Canada would have a role to play in the Commission’s efforts to reduce dependence on Chinese suppliers and components subject to U.S. export controls in drone-subsystem supply chains (batteries, motors, flight controllers), thanks to its industrial expertise and critical raw materials.
Air Defence
The EU-FIAMD (Federated Integrated Air and Missile Defence including Early Warning) EDPCI, valued at €55 billion to €80 billion through 2040, aims to build a federated architecture of air and missile defence systems. Bringing together 16 countries, it covers early warning, sensors, and command-and-control systems to provide a unified air picture against cruise and hypersonic missiles. Europe’s air-defence landscape remains fragmented. The European Sky Shield Initiative (ESSI), led by Germany, combines IRIS-T SLM, NASAMS, Patriot, and Arrow 3. France and Italy, for their part, rely on the SAMP/T NG. Paris and Berlin have also launched the JEWEL initiative to create a sovereign European early warning system against ballistic and hypersonic threats. Finally, an integrated coalition against ballistic missiles, created in July 2026 and bringing together approximately 10 countries, including Germany, France, the United Kingdom, and Ukraine, aims to complement existing systems and coordinate industrial capabilities by developing a joint missile defence capability, centred notably on the Freyja system from the Ukrainian company Fire Point.
Canada belongs to none of these initiatives and has no surface-to-air missile defence capability. To date, Ottawa has acquired only Saab’s short-range RBS 70 NG systems for its troops deployed in Latvia, along with an over-the-horizon radar in the Arctic as part of NORAD modernization for the defence of the North American continent. Ottawa is also exploring the possibility of participating in “Golden Dome”, a project championed by President Trump. The two architectures differ in purpose, however: the Golden Dome is aimed primarily at intercepting intercontinental ballistic missiles, which may be nuclear-armed, while the European initiatives fall more traditionally under extended air defence, targeting aircraft, drones, cruise missiles, and theatre ballistic missiles.
They nonetheless share a need for early warning and, to some extent, interception. This is also the most sensitive area of Canada–Europe cooperation. NORAD is an aerospace warning and control command closely tied to U.S. sensors and procedures. Interceptors, by contrast, remain national assets, and Canada has had none since 2012. Because the SAMP/T NG and IRIS-T SLM are already interoperable with NATO’s integrated air and missile defence, the obstacle is primarily political rather than technical. Washington has already shown how sensitive it is on this issue. In May 2026, the Pentagon suspended its participation in the Permanent Joint Board on Defence, citing Canada’s defence commitments and the prime minister’s rhetoric on diversification; several observers also saw this as pressure to favour U.S. purchases. Canada would nonetheless stand to gain as much as it risks by choosing systems interoperable with its European allies, given its long-standing commitment to European security and the interconnection of the two theatres in a confrontation with Russia. It could, like Germany, combine American and European systems, but with a particular challenge: integrating these assets into a binational chain of command in which the other partner controls the data. The U.S. administration might even contemplate withdrawing from the joint defence of North America by dismantling NORAD, although such a move would appear contrary to U.S. interests. In any case, it would be illusory to think Canadian territory is immune to the threat of air strikes by hostile states. Canada’s decision should therefore weigh how quickly these weapons can be produced and each manufacturer’s willingness to offer licensed production contracts.
Air and missile defence calls for a gradual approach, given its interdependence with U.S. systems. The agreement should establish a protocol for the exchange of early-warning data between the EU-FIAMD architecture and Canadian sensors (the over-the-horizon radar, future space-based assets), designed to remain compatible with NORAD’s obligations. It should give Canada observer status within the EU-FIAMD EDPCI, with the possibility of joining work on sensors, command, and certification environments. Given the symbolic significance in Canada of any perceived loosening of ties with NORAD, Ottawa would be in a position to demand firm commitments from European manufacturers offering a complementary solution, including local production lines and adaptation of their products to Far North conditions. This would contribute to the diversification of production capabilities that Europe is seeking in order to increase its resilience and autonomy.
Sovereign Command
In 2025, NATO acquired Palantir’s Maven Smart System for intelligence, targeting, and decision support. Approximately 20 European countries use Palantir software, and according to NATO’s Supreme Allied Commander Transformation, there is still no real competitor. In June 2026, France tested Arcadia, an AI-based command-and-control system developed with Mistral AI, Safran, Thales, and Airbus. The Franco-German Defence and Security Council meeting on July 17 committed both countries to building a sovereign digital backbone and a European standard for collaborative combat. But Berlin fears exchanging dependence on the United States for dependence on France, and the Commission left the ARCADIA proposal off the first list of projects of common interest, just as it has postponed the European Defence Data Space for AI (EDDS).
Canada occupies a distinctive position. It is one of the few allied countries that is home to a foundation-model provider that is neither American nor French: Cohere. In May 2026, Calian and Cohere announced a collaboration to evaluate and integrate sovereign AI, applying Cohere’s North agent-based platform in defence environments. The Canadian government has also begun deploying North. A key advantage of the platform is that it can run on customers’ own infrastructure, offering an alternative to U.S. services. Cohere has also partnered with Thales to develop AI tools for the Royal Canadian Navy. Could the Canadian company reassure Berlin that it is not swapping one dependency for another? The opportunity is particularly compelling as NATO reconsiders its options: the Alliance has awarded evaluation contracts to Anduril, Palantir, and Athea SAS for its future air command and control system. A European bid backed by Canadian models and computing power could mark a milestone in the development of sovereign command capabilities.
Canada should be involved in the work on the European standard for collaborative combat, so that Canadian and European systems can interface directly without relying on a single intermediary. A common accountability framework for AI-assisted targeting (human oversight, traceability, damage assessment) could serve as a foundation for cooperation. Canada also has strengths to offer in the infrastructure layer, where European cloud service providers lack the necessary scale: its computing power, energy resources, and AI expertise strengthen the case for a European sovereign command initiative.
Long-Range Strikes
Deep strikes have become central to Ukraine’s resistance to Russian aggression. Apart from air-launched cruise missiles (SCALP-EG/Storm Shadow and Taurus), Europe largely lacks such capabilities, and the spring 2026 decision to abandon the deployment of U.S. Typhon launchers in Germany underscored the fragility of a stopgap solution that depends on Washington. Berlin has not abandoned this capability, however. On the sidelines of the Ankara summit, Chancellor Merz secured an agreement in principle to buy Typhon launchers and up to 400 Tomahawk missiles as an interim measure pending a European solution.
The European response is ELSA (European Long-Range Strike Approach), an initiative launched in July 2024 by France, Germany, Italy, and Poland, later joined by the United Kingdom and Sweden, which aims to develop a land-strike capability with a range of 1,000 to 2,000 kilometres. In February 2026, the six partners signed a letter of intent to jointly develop and acquire a low-cost, one-way effector with a range of 500 kilometres. MBDA, for its part, is proposing a land-based version of its naval cruise missile (Land Cruise Missile Mk-2), expected around 2030. Germany is funding a production line for the Taurus NEO. France, the United Kingdom, and Italy are developing STRATUS, the successor to the SCALP-EG/Storm Shadow. ELSA is not an EDPCI and is not subject to EDIP rules: it is a flexible framework in which members determine access, making participation both less predictable and more negotiable for third countries.
Canada made several of its initial choices outside European cooperation frameworks. In January 2026, Ottawa finalized a deal with Washington to acquire 26 HIMARS launchers, acknowledging that no Canadian solution existed and that the system was available only through the U.S. Foreign Military Sales channel. The River-class destroyers are also set to be equipped with Tomahawk missiles, and in July Ottawa selected Norwegian manufacturer Kongsberg’s Joint Strike Missile (JSM) to arm its F-35s. For the most part, however, Canada’s strike capability will rely on munitions whose stockpiles, production rates, and re-export authorizations are controlled by the United States. This is precisely the kind of dependence Europe is trying to reduce.
The complementarity here lies less in platforms than in munitions and industrial depth. Europe’s first bottleneck involves energetic materials (propellant powders and explosive charges) and rocket motors, whose production capacity has dwindled over the past three decades. Canada has one of the few propellant plants in North America and an ammunition sector it intends to revive. The second bottleneck is one-way effectors and low-cost strike drones, areas where Canada has just begun collaborating with Ukraine and where the ELSA and DECODER initiatives converge. The third bottleneck is naval strike capabilities: Germany and Norway are jointly developing the 3SM Tyrfing supersonic missile, successor to the Norwegian NSM selected for the River-class destroyers, within the same partnership that produced the 212CD. A country that joins this partnership through submarines has a natural rationale for joining it through missiles as well.
For long-range strike, the agreement should include a Canadian request to join ELSA, starting with the one-way effector component, where the cost of entry is low and where Canadian production intended for Ukraine can be scaled up. It should include a joint investment project in propellants and rocket motors, open to SAFE funding and future EDIP calls for proposals, with reciprocal purchase commitments. Canada should seek to join the 3SM Tyrfing program as a third partner, in exchange for a commitment to acquire the missile for the River-class vessels and, where applicable, the 212CDs, and should ensure that the HIMARS contract does not rule out the future integration of non-U.S. munitions. Finally, the non-ITAR design clause proposed above should be a priority for this project. Otherwise, every piece of European ordnance integrated onto a Canadian platform will remain subject to Washington’s authorization.
Conditions for Success and Risks
The first risk stems from the U.S. response. President Trump has called the idea of associate membership “laughable” and warned that, if he saw it as a hostile act, he would impose heavy tariffs on Europe or even suspend trade. To allay these concerns, the agreement should demonstrate a commitment to interoperability with U.S. systems wherever possible, while preserving the ability to operate without U.S. support where necessary. This position should be framed to show that strengthening U.S. allies is precisely what the U.S. National Defence Strategy calls for, and that allies need the means to operate independently of the United States if they are to take primary responsibility for their own defence. Norms and standards are central here. European work on future combat standards, undertaken notably through European Defence Fund projects in a framework separate from NATO’s STANAG groups, is still at an early stage. Involving a trusted third country such as Canada from the outset would help produce more open standards, designed from the start to integrate partners outside the Union.
The second challenge relates to intra-European rivalries and the fragmentation of Europe’s industrial and technological base. Europe does not speak with one voice on the role of third countries. Paris advocates a strict European preference and a restrictive conception of design authority, while Berlin, Warsaw, The Hague, and the Nordic capitals prioritize openness to trusted partners and rapid delivery. Major programs reflect this: SCAF and MGCS are bogged down in disputes over the division of labour, and efforts to develop a European rival to Palantir is held back by German fears of replacing American dependence with French dependence. The naval market is split among Naval Group, Fincantieri, TKMS, Damen, and Navantia, while the aerospace sector is even more concentrated around Dassault and Airbus. Each EDPCI is dominated by one or two lead states that control most of the budget.
For Canada, the risk is twofold: being used as a pawn by one side against the other, or facing the most restrictive rules in the name of a European consensus that does not exist. The answer is to choose partners on a project-by-project basis rather than rely on a single European ally; to prioritize formats where third-country access is already guaranteed (Norway in the EDPCI, the United Kingdom in ELSA); and to emphasize that Canada’s contribution would not compete with national champions but instead fill gaps that Europe itself has identified in ammunition, Arctic sensors, AI computing and modelling, and production capacity.
The third risk concerns research and development (R&D) investment. The EDPCIs and the European Defence Fund mainly finance the joint development of future capabilities, and eligibility for funding requires an in-kind or financial contribution from participants. Yet Canada devotes a very small share of its military budget to defence R&D, far less than its major allies do, and most of this effort is spread across small-scale programs. Ambition and resources must go hand in hand. Without a dedicated budget for co-development with European partners, Canada will take part in joint projects as a supplier of components and labour, not as a holder of intellectual property, and the benefits will be limited to licensed production.
The agreement should therefore be accompanied, on the Canadian side, by a multi-year budgetary commitment to defence R&D. A Canadian co-funding window for European Defence Fund projects, modelled on the arrangements granted to Norway, would allow Canadian laboratories and companies to join European consortia without waiting for the regulations to be revised. A related risk must also be acknowledged: a significant share of Canadian defence research remains entangled in U.S. programs subject to ITAR, which limits what Canada can contribute to projects specifically designed to get around those restrictions. The Defence, Security, and Resilience Bank proposed by Ottawa, which Berlin and Paris would be well advised to support and which could be combined with the multilateral defence mechanism proposed by London, would provide a framework for financing such cooperation at the coalition level, bringing together the United Kingdom, Canada, and the member states.
To date, associate membership is a purely political proposal. It will become an operational reality only if it is given a legal definition, and that definition must specify how an associate member can gain access to the instruments in Europe’s defence toolkit. The EDIP is its centrepiece. The EDIP channels funding to projects of common interest and will help shape the rules governing European preference in future programs. The Montreal summit should therefore establish four commitments: launching negotiations on Canada’s association with the EDIP and its successor; creating a Canada-EU Defence Industry Council tasked with preparing the roadmaps; adopting a clause ensuring design independence from U.S. export controls; and launching the five initiatives described here without delay, each of which builds on programs already funded on both sides of the Atlantic. The EU would thereby gain a model for structuring relations with other trusted partners, starting with the United Kingdom.
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