Troops on the Table: How Trump’s Openness to Cutting U.S. Forces in Spain and Italy Could Reshape NATO’s Southern Flank

A single sentence, dropped almost casually on the campaign trail, can move armies. When Donald Trump told supporters this winter that U.S. troops stationed abroad were “on the table” unless allies paid more, diplomats in Madrid and Rome didn’t need a briefing to grasp the stakes. They had lived through this movie before—only this time, the backdrop is a war in Ukraine, a volatile Middle East, and a Mediterranean that has become NATO’s busiest logistics corridor.

The question is not whether the United States could reduce its footprint in Spain and Italy. It’s what happens to NATO’s southern flank if it does—and whether Europe is ready to absorb the shock.

Why Spain and Italy Matter More Than the Headlines Suggest

Rota, Morón, Aviano, Sigonella. To most Americans, these names register faintly, if at all. Inside NATO planning rooms, they are indispensable.

Spain hosts roughly 6,000 U.S. military personnel, concentrated at Naval Station Rota and Morón Air Base, according to Pentagon figures released in 2023. Rota is home to four U.S. Navy Aegis-equipped destroyers that form a critical piece of NATO’s ballistic missile defense architecture. Those ships track potential missile launches from the Middle East and provide early warning coverage for much of southern Europe.

Italy’s role is even larger. Around 12,000 U.S. troops operate from bases including Aviano Air Base, Naval Air Station Sigonella in Sicily, and Camp Darby near Pisa. Sigonella, in particular, has become a nerve center for intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) operations over North Africa, the Sahel, and the eastern Mediterranean. During the Libya crisis, the fight against ISIS, and recent monitoring of Russian naval activity, flights out of Sigonella quietly shaped battlefield decisions hundreds of miles away.

Pull troops from Germany, and NATO feels it. Pull them from Spain and Italy, and NATO’s southern nervous system starts to fray.

Trump’s Leverage Play—and Why It Resonates Differently This Time

Trump’s willingness to publicly question overseas deployments isn’t new. In 2018, he floated withdrawing U.S. forces from Germany unless Berlin increased defense spending. What has changed is context.

European NATO members have boosted military budgets since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. Italy raised defense spending to roughly 1.6 percent of GDP in 2024, up from 1.4 percent two years earlier. Spain still lags at about 1.3 percent, despite pledges to reach NATO’s 2 percent benchmark by 2029. From Washington’s perspective, those numbers remain an irritant.

But the southern flank presents a different bargaining chip. Unlike Germany or Poland, Spain and Italy serve as gateways to Africa and the Middle East. Threats here don’t always wear uniforms. Migration flows, energy chokepoints, Russian mercenary activity in Libya, and instability in the Sahel all converge along NATO’s under-defended underbelly.

Trump understands leverage. By floating troop cuts in Spain and Italy, he signals that even strategically vital posts aren’t immune. For allies, that ambiguity is destabilizing by design.

Madrid’s Quiet Alarm Bells

Publicly, Spain’s Socialist-led government has struck a careful tone. Officials emphasize the “mutual benefit” of U.S. bases and point to the 2023 renewal of the bilateral defense agreement, which expanded U.S. naval presence at Rota. Privately, Spanish diplomats concede concern.

Spain’s defense establishment views U.S. forces as both shield and subsidy. American investment has poured hundreds of millions of euros into base infrastructure, local jobs, and dual-use facilities. A 2022 Spanish Ministry of Defense report estimated that U.S. bases contribute more than €1 billion annually to regional economies.

A reduction would sting politically. Anti-base sentiment still simmers on the Spanish left, but so does fear of strategic marginalization. Without U.S. assets, Spain would struggle to project influence within NATO debates dominated by eastern-flank states. The irony is sharp: less American presence could weaken Spain’s voice precisely when it wants to matter more.

Italy’s More Complicated Calculus

Italy’s reaction unfolds on two levels. Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, who has positioned herself as a reliable Atlanticist, understands that U.S. bases anchor Italy’s relevance in NATO and Washington alike. She has repeatedly framed Italy as the alliance’s Mediterranean linchpin.

Yet Italy also carries deeper domestic sensitivities. Communities around Aviano and Camp Darby have protested base expansions for decades. Environmental concerns, sovereignty arguments, and local politics never fully disappear. A partial U.S. drawdown could ease those tensions while simultaneously alarming military planners in Rome.

Italian defense officials worry less about numbers and more about capabilities. Losing ISR platforms at Sigonella or logistics units at Camp Darby would degrade Italy’s ability to respond to crises in Libya or manage migration surges across the central Mediterranean. Rome has invested in its own naval and air assets, but gaps remain.

NATO’s Southern Flank: The Real Risk Isn’t Russia—It’s Neglect

NATO has spent the last three years reinforcing its eastern flank. Multinational battlegroups, air defense systems, and pre-positioned equipment now stretch from the Baltics to the Black Sea. The south tells a different story.

Only about 10 percent of NATO’s high-readiness forces focus on southern contingencies, according to a 2024 analysis by the International Institute for Strategic Studies. That imbalance leaves the alliance exposed to gray-zone threats: sabotage of undersea cables, energy infrastructure attacks, and proxy conflicts fueled by Russia or Iran.

U.S. bases in Spain and Italy compensate for this gap. They provide rapid response options that European militaries still lack at scale. Remove or shrink them, and NATO faces a choice: invest heavily in southern capabilities or accept a strategic blind spot.

Allied Reactions: Concern Without Public Panic

NATO officials have avoided open criticism, but the unease is real. Senior alliance figures privately acknowledge that uncertainty about U.S. posture complicates long-term planning. Exercises get designed around assets that may not be there in four years.

Eastern European allies worry about precedent. If Washington trims forces where threats seem less immediate, what stops similar logic elsewhere? France, which has long pushed for European “strategic autonomy,” sees both risk and opportunity. A U.S. pullback could accelerate EU defense integration—but only if member states pay for it.

So far, no European capital has stepped forward with a concrete plan to replace U.S. capabilities in the Mediterranean. The silence speaks volumes.

The Geopolitical Ripple Effects Beyond NATO

Adversaries watch troop debates closely. Russian naval deployments in the Mediterranean have increased since 2022, with Tartus in Syria serving as a logistical hub. Reduced U.S. presence in nearby Spain or Italy would simplify Moscow’s calculus.

China, too, tracks basing decisions. Beijing has invested heavily in Mediterranean ports, including Piraeus in Greece and Valencia in Spain. Military withdrawals create openings for economic and political influence that extend far beyond defense.

North African states would feel the change immediately. U.S. bases in Italy support training missions, intelligence sharing, and counterterrorism operations across the Maghreb. Fewer resources mean slower responses and less leverage with fragile partners.

What Comes Next: Scenarios to Watch

Three outcomes now loom:

• Symbolic cuts: Small troop reductions designed to signal pressure without operational damage. Politically loud, militarily limited.
• Capability shifts: Maintaining troop numbers while relocating high-end assets elsewhere. Less visible, more consequential.

• Conditional stability: No cuts, but explicit linkage between basing and European defense spending commitments.

The third option offers the least disruption, but it requires trust that feels increasingly scarce.

Practical Takeaways for Policymakers and Analysts

Readers tracking this issue can move beyond headlines with a few concrete steps:

• Monitor base-level changes, not rhetoric. Tools like Jane’s Defence Weekly Digital and IISS Military Balance+ provide granular updates on unit movements that matter more than speeches.
• Watch host-nation budgets. Spain’s and Italy’s defense procurement plans—tracked through platforms like GlobalData Defence Intelligence Center—offer early signals of whether Europe plans to fill potential gaps.
• Invest in regional risk analysis. For businesses and NGOs operating in the Mediterranean, software such as Control Risks’ RiskMap or Stratfor Worldview can help anticipate second-order effects of military shifts.

None of these tools predict policy. They reveal trajectories.

The Bigger Question Washington Can’t Dodge

Trump’s openness to cutting troops in Spain and Italy forces an uncomfortable reckoning. U.S. bases are not just costs on a ledger; they are instruments of influence. They anchor alliances, shape adversaries’ calculations, and buy time when crises erupt.

Europe, for all its talk of autonomy, still leans heavily on those instruments—especially along the southern flank. If Washington signals that even these positions are negotiable, allies must decide whether to step up or step aside.

The Mediterranean has always been a crossroads of empires. Once again, it may decide how durable the Atlantic alliance really is.