In a move that could reshape the defense calculus of Southern Europe, Micael Johansson, CEO of Swedish aerospace giant Saab, has confirmed that the company is engaged in formal talks with Portugal to supply its JAS 39 Gripen fighter jets. The revelation, shared during an interview with Swedish business daily Dagens Industri, signals a critical moment for NATO procurement trends, European defense autonomy, and Portugal’s strategic posture in the Atlantic.
For decades, Portugal has flown American-made F-16s. Now, with its aging fleet nearing obsolescence and geopolitical winds shifting across the West, Lisbon is reevaluating its loyalty to Lockheed Martin and contemplating a pivot toward the Swedish-made Gripen—a move rich with both tactical and symbolic significance.
At the heart of this discussion is the Gripen E/F, the latest variant of Saab’s multirole fighter. Sleek, fast, and technologically advanced, the jet has quietly positioned itself as a cost-effective and operationally flexible alternative to U.S.-made fifth-generation aircraft like the F-35. But the debate in Portugal isn’t just about fighter jets. It’s about sovereignty, alliance politics, and who controls the future of European skies.
Portugal, a founding NATO member, operates a modest air force with 24 F-16AM and four F-16BM aircraft. These jets, though modernized over the years, are aging fast. The Portuguese military has long desired a move to stealth-capable F-35s—an ambition voiced openly as recently as 2019. But high costs, both upfront and over the aircraft’s lifecycle, have complicated that aspiration.
With an annual defense budget hovering around $4 billion—far below NATO’s 2% GDP benchmark—Portugal has little margin for error. The F-35’s per-unit cost exceeds $80 million, with operating expenses reaching unsustainable levels for many mid-sized NATO members. A 2023 report by the U.S. Government Accountability Office noted troubling readiness figures: fewer than 60% of F-35s were mission-capable at any given time.
Portugal’s leadership has taken note. In a March 2025 interview with Portuguese newspaper Público, then-Defense Minister Nuno Melo indicated the government was actively reconsidering the F-35 in favor of more budget-conscious options. “We must align ambition with reality,” Melo said. “The era of unquestioned procurement from the U.S. is no longer viable.”
Saab’s Gripen E/F isn’t just a cheap alternative—it’s a purpose-built, high-tech platform with serious pedigree. Powered by the General Electric F414G engine, the Gripen hits Mach 2 and delivers a combat radius of roughly 500 miles. Its advanced suite—featuring the Leonardo ES-05 Raven AESA radar, Skyward G IRST sensor, and an electronic warfare system with 360-degree missile warning—makes it a formidable player in contested airspace.
With ten hardpoints and compatibility with weapons like the Meteor BVR missile and IRIS-T, the Gripen offers both versatility and punch. But perhaps most impressive is its modular software architecture, which allows quick capability upgrades without costly hardware changes.
It’s not just about what the Gripen can do, but how—and where—it can do it. Designed to operate from short or improvised runways, the aircraft embraces Sweden’s Cold War-era doctrine of dispersed operations. For Portugal, which controls a vast swath of Atlantic territory including the Azores archipelago, this flexibility is a strategic asset.
Compared to other contenders, the Gripen has obvious appeal. Its estimated flyaway cost is around $40 million—half that of the F-35—and its operational cost, at $7,000 per flight hour, undercuts the Eurofighter Typhoon by more than 60%. For a country grappling with tight defense spending and rising inflation, these figures matter.
The modernized F-16V remains a possible fallback due to Portugal’s existing infrastructure and training base, but its lack of fifth-gen features raises concerns about future relevance. The Typhoon, meanwhile, remains cost-prohibitive despite European origins.
The Gripen hits a middle path: technologically advanced but not over-engineered, adaptable yet affordable. It’s no wonder that smaller NATO nations like Hungary and the Czech Republic have found it a perfect fit.
Saab isn’t just selling jets—it’s selling partnerships. In Brazil, Saab’s 2014 deal to deliver 36 Gripens included local production in São Paulo and a long-term tech transfer arrangement. That deal created hundreds of jobs and deepened Brazil’s domestic aerospace industry.
A similar proposal for Portugal could involve companies like OGMA, the maintenance and manufacturing firm partly owned by Brazil’s Embraer. Saab has worked with both Embraer and OGMA before, opening the door to a local supply chain and regional production nodes.
With Portugal still recovering from over a decade of fiscal austerity, job creation and industrial development are not side perks—they’re political necessities. Saab’s offer to embed Portugal into its supply and maintenance ecosystem could tip the scales.
This potential deal doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Europe’s security landscape has shifted dramatically since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Air power, once a background player in NATO defense planning, is now front and center.
While Portugal is geographically distant from Eastern Europe, its strategic role in the Atlantic is growing. The Azores serve as a critical logistics hub for transatlantic operations. The Gripen’s compatibility with NATO systems like Link 16 and its ability to operate from short airstrips make it ideal for remote deployment.
Sweden’s accession to NATO in 2024 has further burnished Saab’s credentials. The company now represents not just Swedish industry, but a broader European defense capability aligned with NATO standards.
If Portugal goes through with the Gripen purchase, it could send shockwaves through the alliance. Though not a break from NATO standards, such a move would be seen as a pivot away from the United States’ aerospace dominance—particularly the F-35 program.
Countries like Poland and Norway have committed to the F-35, but not without complications. Poland’s jets won’t arrive until 2026 due to production delays, while Norway has faced cost overruns and maintenance issues. Saab’s ability to deliver jets quickly—combined with its pitch for logistical simplicity—could be attractive to other nations watching Portugal’s deliberations.
But there’s a catch: the Gripen isn’t entirely free of American influence. Its engine is made by General Electric, requiring export licenses from Washington. In an era of trade tensions—exacerbated by the Trump administration’s tariffs on European goods—this could become a sticking point.
Saab has tried to address this dependency by emphasizing the Gripen’s open architecture. Customers can integrate non-U.S. systems and even develop their own software patches. But it’s a delicate balance. Too much autonomy, and NATO interoperability could suffer. Too little, and Europe remains dependent on U.S. supply chains.
This debate over strategic autonomy is gaining momentum across the continent. France, Germany, and Spain are co-developing the Future Combat Air System (FCAS), a sixth-gen fighter project aimed at reducing European reliance on U.S. platforms. Portugal’s choice could signal whether it aligns with this vision—or remains embedded in Washington’s defense orbit.
Despite growing interest in the Gripen, Portugal’s political situation complicates any swift resolution. With snap parliamentary elections set for May 18, 2025, any final decision on aircraft procurement will likely fall to the next government. Depending on the outcome, defense priorities could shift dramatically.
Still, the current government has laid the groundwork. Conversations are active, options are being weighed, and Saab remains a top contender. Whether or not the Gripen wins, its presence in the conversation marks a new phase in Portugal’s defense thinking—one shaped by realism, resource constraints, and a growing awareness of geopolitical instability.
Real-world performance backs up the Gripen’s case. In 2006’s Red Flag exercise, the aircraft held its own against elite U.S. fighters, notching impressive simulated kill ratios. More recently, Brazil’s F-39 Gripens—based on the E/F variant—underwent harsh climate testing, proving effective in hot and humid environments similar to Portugal’s.
With engine swaps completed in under an hour and the ability to perform hot refueling, the Gripen supports rapid-turn operations—ideal for Portugal’s dispersed geography and limited basing infrastructure.
Portugal’s deliberation has implications far beyond its borders. A Gripen deal would lend weight to Sweden’s growing role in European security and perhaps open the door to more balanced transatlantic procurement dynamics. It could also encourage countries like Canada and Colombia—both in talks with Saab—to move forward.
Yet, risks remain. Choosing Gripen could reduce Portugal’s alignment with countries relying on F-35s, potentially complicating joint operations. And if U.S. policymakers view the move as a rebuke, bilateral ties could suffer.
But in the grander scheme, Portugal’s search for the right fighter jet is not about alienation—it’s about autonomy. And in an increasingly uncertain world, more nations are willing to pay for that flexibility.
Portugal stands at a crossroads. The Gripen offers a unique blend of performance, affordability, and independence. But choosing it will require political courage and a willingness to diverge from decades of American alignment in military aviation.
The decision, whenever it comes, will speak volumes—not just about Portugal’s defense strategy, but about the direction NATO may take in the years to come.
Whether the Gripen takes flight over the Atlantic or not, it’s already stirred a conversation that cuts to the heart of modern alliance politics, defense economics, and sovereignty in an increasingly unstable world.
