Europe’s ambition to field a sovereign sixth-generation combat aircraft is entering one of its most uncertain phases yet, as political mistrust, industrial rivalries, and ballooning costs threaten to derail two flagship programs: the Global Combat Air Program (GCAP) and the Future Combat Air System (FCAS).
Once envisioned as complementary pillars of Europe’s future airpower—one led by the United Kingdom, Italy, and Japan, and the other by France, Germany, and Spain—the two initiatives now reflect sharply different trajectories. GCAP, despite maintaining forward momentum, is increasingly strained by accusations of technological protectionism. FCAS, by contrast, is edging toward fragmentation or outright collapse after years of deadlock between its prime industrial players.
Together, the struggles of these programs highlight the growing difficulty of multinational defence cooperation in an era defined by strategic competition, rapid technological change, and rising fiscal pressure.
Launched in 2022, GCAP was conceived as a bold trilateral effort to develop a sixth-generation combat aircraft capable of entering service by the mid-2030s. The program merged the UK’s Tempest initiative with Japan’s F-X program, later joined by Italy, creating a rare transcontinental defence partnership.
Industrially, the program is led by BAE Systems, Leonardo, and Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, with Rolls-Royce, Avio Aero, and IHI collaborating on propulsion. On paper, GCAP has advanced steadily, with governments repeatedly emphasizing its strategic importance and industrial coherence.
However, beneath the surface, tensions have been simmering—particularly between Italy and the United Kingdom.
In April 2025, Italian Defence Minister Guido Crosetto publicly accused London of withholding critical technologies essential to the program’s success. Speaking to Reuters, Crosetto argued that national “selfishness” was undermining collective progress and singled out the UK as the most reluctant partner when it came to sharing sensitive know-how.
“You have to break down some barriers of selfishness,” Crosetto said at the time. “Italy has broken them down totally, Japan almost totally. It seems to me that the UK is much more reluctant to do this.”
The British Ministry of Defence swiftly rejected the criticism, describing GCAP as a model of advanced international cooperation and reaffirming its commitment to the partnership.
Yet nearly a year later, the dispute appears unresolved.
In renewed comments in early 2026, Crosetto again criticized what he described as excessive British secrecy, calling it “madness” and warning that such behaviour could ultimately weaken the West’s strategic position.
As long as cutting-edge technologies are not shared among trusted partners, Crosetto argued, the program risks falling behind global competitors—particularly Russia and China.
“It’s a huge favor to the Russians and the Chinese,” he said, framing the issue not merely as an industrial dispute but as a strategic vulnerability.
The Italian minister has sought to apply pressure by example. He revealed that he had instructed Leonardo, Italy’s defence electronics champion, to share its technologies more openly within GCAP, urging other partners to follow suit.
“That way, we take the first step,” Crosetto said, suggesting Italy was attempting to set a precedent that could force reciprocity from London.
The diplomatic tension comes amid growing scrutiny of GCAP’s escalating cost—particularly in Italy.
Recent disclosures revealed that Italy’s projected spending on GCAP’s design and development phase has surged dramatically over the past five years, rising from approximately €6 billion to €18.6 billion. That figure does not include procurement costs once the aircraft enters production.
The price increase has triggered fierce criticism from Italy’s opposition Five Star Movement, which described GCAP as the most expensive military program in the country’s history.
“This is the most expensive program ever for the Italian armed forces, overtaking the F-35,” Five Star lawmakers said, noting that Italy spent roughly €18 billion to acquire 90 F-35 aircraft.
The criticism reflects broader political unease in Europe, where defence budgets are expanding rapidly under pressure from NATO commitments, the war in Ukraine, and growing concerns over China—but where public tolerance for long-term, high-cost projects remains limited.
Despite the political noise, GCAP’s industrial machinery continues to move forward.
In June 2025, the program reached a major milestone with the formal launch of its industrial joint venture, Edgewing. Established by BAE Systems, Leonardo, and Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Edgewing serves as the central design authority responsible for the aircraft’s full development, production, delivery, and lifecycle management.
Later in the year, the engine consortium—Rolls-Royce, Avio Aero, and IHI—expanded its agreement to enable deeper integration with Edgewing, allowing for direct collaboration and the successful testing of advanced combustor technologies.
According to defence publication Janes, GCAP partners are now approaching the start of full-scale design and development work, a critical step that will define the aircraft’s configuration, systems architecture, and production roadmap.
Still, questions about timelines persist.
A Reuters report last year suggested that Japan was privately concerned the aircraft might miss its planned rollout schedule, potentially slipping beyond 2040. The report cited a perceived lack of urgency on the part of the UK and Italy as a contributing factor.
While no partner officially confirmed the claims, the report underscored how differing national priorities and internal disagreements could slow progress—particularly on complex subsystems such as sensors, networking, and autonomous teaming.
Even minor misalignments, analysts warn, could compound over time in a program as technologically ambitious as GCAP, which aims to integrate manned-unmanned teaming, advanced stealth, artificial intelligence, and next-generation propulsion into a single operational system.
If GCAP’s challenges are troubling, FCAS’s situation is far more severe.
The Franco-German-Spanish Future Combat Air System was conceived as a “system of systems” encompassing a next-generation fighter (NGF), loyal wingman drones, and a combat cloud designed to enable seamless, multi-domain data sharing.
Yet after years of delays, the program is widely regarded as being on the verge of collapse.
At the heart of the crisis lies a fundamental disagreement between Dassault Aviation and Airbus, representing France on one side and Germany and Spain on the other. The disputes span multiple issues, including workshare allocation, control over aircraft design, intellectual property, and supplier selection.
Dassault is responsible for the crewed NGF, while Airbus leads the development of remote carriers, combat cloud infrastructure, and elements of stealth technology. Spain’s Indra handles sensor systems, and Safran is developing the fighter’s engine.
The deadlock has been widely attributed to Dassault’s reluctance to share leadership of the NGF design.
Dassault CEO Eric Trappier has repeatedly argued that excessive work sharing could compromise the aircraft’s quality, suggesting that Dassault’s long experience designing complete fighter aircraft—from the Mirage series to the Rafale—positions it uniquely to lead the effort.
In an interview last year, Trappier warned that forced collaboration could result in “suboptimal technological solutions,” a comment widely interpreted as a rebuke of Airbus’s demands for greater involvement.
Germany, however, has refused to accept an arrangement that would heavily favor Dassault, arguing that such a model would marginalize German industry and undermine the project’s cooperative foundation.
By late 2025, political patience was wearing thin.
Germany and France reportedly pressured Airbus and Dassault to resolve their differences, but no breakthrough emerged. In December, a decision on the program’s future was indefinitely postponed.
German Defence Minister Boris Pistorius publicly warned that Berlin was prepared to withdraw if no agreement was reached.
“The Chancellor and I are in full agreement that there needs to be a decision by the end of the year,” Pistorius said in October 2025. “Otherwise, we will pull the plug.”
There were also reports that Germany explored the possibility of replacing France with another international partner—an extraordinary notion given FCAS’s original political symbolism.
In late January, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz offered a carefully worded update that suggested a possible reframing of FCAS rather than its outright continuation.
“There will definitely be joint systems,” Merz said, adding that discussions with France were ongoing about whether joint aircraft development would continue.
His remarks implied that FCAS could evolve into a framework under which France and Germany pursue separate sixth-generation fighters while cooperating on certain subsystems, such as sensors, networking, or unmanned platforms.
Airbus Defence and Space CEO Michael Schöllhorn later echoed this idea, telling Euractiv that separate aircraft could be a “good” solution to break the impasse.
“We have a combination of two companies that have totally different views of what a European cooperative project is,” Schöllhorn said, referring to Airbus and Dassault.
Neither the French government nor Dassault has formally endorsed the idea of separate aircraft. However, Dassault executives have previously hinted that the company could pursue an independent path if FCAS collapses—much as it did with the Rafale after France withdrew from earlier multinational programs.
Such a move would mark a significant shift in Europe’s defence landscape, potentially resulting in two competing European sixth-generation fighters alongside GCAP.
While this outcome might preserve national sovereignty and industrial autonomy, it would also fragment resources, duplicate costs, and weaken Europe’s collective position against U.S. and Chinese aerospace giants.
The struggles of GCAP and FCAS reveal a deeper challenge confronting Europe: reconciling national interests with the realities of developing next-generation military technology.
Sixth-generation fighters are not merely aircraft; they are complex ecosystems involving artificial intelligence, cyber resilience, space connectivity, and autonomous systems. Their cost and complexity make purely national solutions increasingly difficult, yet multinational cooperation remains fraught with political and industrial friction.
Whether Europe can overcome these obstacles—or whether it will splinter into parallel, competing programs—may determine not only the future of its air forces but also its credibility as a strategic actor in an increasingly contested world.
For now, Europe’s next-generation fighter ambitions remain airborne—but flying through increasingly turbulent skies.
