Dissident, arrogant, divergent... These three words describe France’s foreign policy rhetoric during the Cold War. France has always prided itself on its "autonomous" stance, irrespective of its alliance with the U.S. Yet, France now appears to have little room to maneuver in the international arena. Caught in this stark dilemma, whether fully independent or quasi-dependent on another power, France has found itself vulnerable as international turbulence paved the way for yet another shock to its diplomacy.
The European Union, which was originally envisioned as a peace project, marked a turning point in the effort to end the relentless wars and bloodshed that had plagued the old continent. Longtime archrivals France and Germany came to an understanding, putting an end to their cycles of conflict. Their first collaborative step was the establishment of the European Coal and Steel Community. Over time, this cooperation deepened, eventually giving rise to a shared vision of mutual understanding and unity.
This narrative is often celebrated – a tale of dedication and consistency stabilizing a volatile political landscape and yielding benefits for all parties involved. However, the real driving force behind this process was neither France nor Germany. It was the rising superpower of the postwar era: the U.S.
The primary reason the U.S. pushed European powers toward integration was economic. Having invested heavily in Europe during World War II, the U.S. sought ways to recoup its expenditures. Beyond economics, there was an ideological motive: in contrast to Soviet communism, the U.S. aimed to foster a liberal, capitalist space in Europe where businesses could thrive, and investors could move capital freely. By advocating for the removal of trade barriers and enhancing creditor flexibility, the U.S. gained sweeping access to Europe’s capital markets and real economy.
Between 1950 and 1965, U.S. investments in Europe surged by 800%, reaching $13.9 billion. Investments in the European Economic Community (EEC) alone increased tenfold, hitting $6.25 billion. By 1970, U.S. firms had established a broad network of subsidiaries across Europe in response to the formation of the European Common Market. That year, U.S. foreign direct investment (FDI) outflows totaled roughly $7.5 billion – approximately 60% of global FDI – with most of that investment flowing to developed nations, particularly those in Europe.
Despite being a founding leader of the European peace project, France managed to keep a cautious distance from American influence. Under President Charles de Gaulle (1959-1969), France was notably wary of U.S. dominance – economically, politically and culturally.
De Gaulle condemned U.S. multinational corporations for threatening French sovereignty and identity, prompting the French government to impose restrictions on foreign (especially American) ownership in strategic sectors such as media, energy and defense. France also implemented policies that screened foreign direct investment and prioritized the growth of national champions.
To grasp the extent of France’s resistance to U.S. involvement, consider this: from 1963 to 1970, France received between $100 billion and $120 billion in American investment annually. In comparison, the U.K. attracted roughly $450 billion, while Germany received about $300 billion per year in the same period.
Since 2013, France has increasingly signaled a return to its traditional posture of strategic autonomy – especially in relation to the U.S. Echoing the Gaullist legacy, successive French leaders have sought to assert an independent foreign policy, distancing themselves from automatic alignment with Washington’s global agenda. This renewed stance has been most visible in areas such as defense, technology and economic sovereignty.
French discontent with U.S. dominance has reemerged in several key episodes. One notable moment was the fallout from the U.S. National Security Agency (NSA) surveillance revelations in 2013, which reignited concerns over digital sovereignty and national security. The rift widened again during the Donald Trump administration, particularly over issues like the Iran nuclear deal, NATO spending, and climate change policy, where France positioned itself as a counterbalance to American unilateralism.
This strategic recalibration has coincided with France’s growing engagement with China. While still a part of the Western alliance, Paris has pursued a more pragmatic relationship with Beijing, rooted in trade, investment, and geopolitical calculus. President Emmanuel Macron has made multiple visits to China since 2018, promoting a "strategic partnership" that emphasizes dialogue, multilateralism and mutual economic benefit. France views China not only as a crucial market for French exports – especially in sectors like aerospace, luxury goods and agriculture – but also as a potential lever to diversify global alliances in an increasingly multipolar world. Despite European concerns over human rights and market reciprocity, France has continued to advocate for a balanced approach that does not entirely mirror the confrontational U.S. posture toward China.
In this context, France appears to be recalibrating its global position, reviving its historical ambivalence toward U.S. dominance while cautiously expanding its ties with China. This dual-track diplomacy reflects both a memory of past dissidence and a present-day strategy to remain relevant in a fragmented international order.
In recent years, France has grown more vocal about the need to rebalance global power relations, particularly within the transatlantic alliance. French Foreign Trade Minister Jean-Noël Barrot underscored this shift by stating that “China may serve as a counterbalance to the United States, offering Europe an alternative axis of cooperation in shaping global governance.” This comment reflects a broader French ambition to avoid dependency on any single superpower, especially amid growing unease with U.S. unpredictability. While France remains aligned with NATO and EU partners, it increasingly sees China not just as a market, but as a geopolitical actor capable of reshaping multilateral dynamics. This pragmatic approach is consistent with France’s longstanding pursuit of strategic autonomy, one that does not fully reject the U.S. but also resists falling into a binary Cold War logic. By engaging China, France aims to carve out space for an independent European voice in world affairs.
As global tensions mount and the rivalry between the U.S. and China deepens, France stands at a strategic crossroads. Long known for its defiant independence, France now faces mounting pressure to clarify its loyalties. Will it continue to align with its traditional Western ally, the U.S. or pivot more decisively toward China as a counterweight in a multipolar world?
While Paris still shares deep institutional, cultural and defense ties with Washington, its growing economic engagement with Beijing suggests a more nuanced calculation is underway. France appears unwilling to fully embrace either pole, instead seeking to preserve room for maneuver – a hallmark of its foreign policy since de Gaulle. In the years ahead, France’s challenge will be maintaining this balancing act. It may neither fully side with the U.S. nor China but rather play both against each other to elevate Europe's strategic autonomy. The question isn’t just whose side France is on – but how long it can remain in between.
