The decision by a Belgian court to prohibit the transit of military equipment to Israel via the port of Antwerp is not merely a legal curiosity.
It is emblematic of a growing tendency within Europe for national courts to insert themselves into questions of high politics, defence, and diplomacy—areas that were once the exclusive preserve of governments. That tendency is fraught with risk. It undermines Europe’s already fragile credibility as a strategic actor and signals to allies and adversaries alike that the continent remains incapable of speaking with one voice when it matters most.
The case was brought by campaigners opposed to the shipment of weaponry destined for Israel, and the court sided with them, citing humanitarian concerns. It is not clear who those campaigners were working for, or what their actual motives may be.
Yet however well-intentioned such a ruling may appear, its consequences extend far beyond the Antwerp docks. For Israel, engaged in a protracted conflict that has already destabilised the Middle East and threatened to spill into Europe’s own security calculus, the Belgian judgement will be seen as a hostile act. It tells Jerusalem that access to European infrastructure can no longer be assumed, even when governments have not formally changed their policy.
At a stroke, Belgian judges have placed themselves in the business of foreign policy. That ought to trouble anyone who still believes in the primacy of democratic accountability. Courts are essential for the rule of law, but they are not designed to weigh the balance between alliance obligations, deterrence strategies, or the moral dilemmas of arms exports. Those are decisions for elected governments, subject to parliamentary scrutiny and public debate. When judges usurp that role, Europe finds itself ruled not by consensus but by case law.
The Belgian ruling also risks creating a precedent. If Antwerp is closed to Israel-bound shipments, what stops other European courts from blocking cargo to Ukraine, or to Taiwan, or even to NATO’s eastern flank? Campaign groups have taken note: if a single legal action can redirect the flow of arms and thereby weaken a partner’s war effort, they will replicate the tactic wherever sympathetic judges can be found. For Europe’s allies, this will look like a dangerous form of unpredictability. The United States, in particular, will question whether Europe is a reliable partner when internal legal wrangling can impede joint security efforts.
Nor is this purely theoretical. Antwerp is not just a picturesque Flemish city; it is one of Europe’s largest ports and a critical hub in the continent’s logistical chain. Restricting its use for political reasons has knock-on effects across supply routes. Defence industries already strained by commitments to Ukraine and NATO now face yet another source of uncertainty. Contracts become harder to fulfil, delivery schedules slip, and the very credibility of Europe’s industrial base is called into question.
There is also a profound hypocrisy at play. Belgium itself has long depended upon NATO’s security umbrella, and like many European countries it has under-invested in its own defence. Yet when it comes to others fighting for survival, its courts have taken it upon themselves to limit the tools available. The moral posture is easy; the strategic consequences are borne by others.
Europe already suffers from a reputation for inconsistency. One week Brussels insists on solidarity with Israel against terrorism, the next week its member states bicker about sanctions and arms exports. The Belgian ruling makes that inconsistency structural. It shows allies that even if Europe’s leaders manage to agree a policy, it can be undone by judicial activism at the national level. That is the opposite of strategic coherence.
If Europe wishes to be taken seriously, it must confront this problem. There is a legitimate debate to be had about arms exports, the ethics of supplying weapons to conflict zones, and the humanitarian fallout of modern warfare. But that debate must occur in parliaments, not in courtrooms. Governments should legislate clearly on the conditions under which transit rights can be granted or denied, rather than leaving loopholes that campaigners can exploit. Otherwise, the continent will find itself paralysed, unable to honour commitments, and increasingly sidelined in global affairs.
The Belgian court may well have acted with humanitarian concern in mind, but in practice it has delivered a blow to Europe’s credibility and to the very idea of collective security. Law without strategy is no virtue. And unless Europe re-asserts the primacy of democratic decision-making in foreign policy, it will continue to be seen as a continent where the cargo of allies can be halted not by governments, but by gavel.
Main Image: Arminius via Wikipedia
