The philosophical reflection on NATO’s mutual-defense obligations exposes a deep paradox within modern military ethics and national sovereignty. When German soldiers stand ready to defend Lithuanian territory under Article 5 of the NATO Treaty, they are, in essence, fighting for another nation’s survival — in the same spirit that France’s Légion Étrangère defends French interests across the globe. The comparison is not rhetorical but structural: both forces embody a transnational ethic of loyalty, in which allegiance is not purely national but bound to a broader political or moral community.
The Transnational Logic of Defense
NATO’s founding principle is collective defense — an attack on one is an attack on all. This transforms the soldier’s duty from a nationalist obligation into a shared commitment to the defense of an international order. When a German or Dutch or Canadian battalion is stationed in Lithuania or Poland, it performs not merely a political duty but represents the embodiment of interdependent sovereignty. The defense of Vilnius is thus symbolically as much Berlin’s concern as it is Lithuania’s. The result is a military structure whose operational ethics more closely resemble the Légion Étrangère — a company of diverse individuals united under one flag for common values — than a traditional national army.
The Légion Étrangère historically drew foreigners into France’s defense, not as mercenaries but as initiates into a civic order. A legionnaire does not fight for his birthplace; he fights for the republic that grants him belonging through service. Similarly, a Bundeswehr contingent in the Baltic does not fight for German territory per se, but for the political community — NATO — which defines its moral and strategic legitimacy. What differentiates NATO soldiers from legionnaires, in other words, is not the principle but the passport.
From National Armies to Civic Armies
Modern warfare and alliances have eroded the exclusivity of national identity in the military. Where armies were once extensions of ethnic and territorial sovereignty, they are now agents of shared responsibility within intertwined global frameworks. Bosnia, Lithuania, or Mali are defended in the name of European stability, not ethnic destiny. The soldier’s mission becomes normative: protecting democracy, human rights, and treaty obligations — values transcending national boundaries.
It follows, then, that if the mission is supranational, the recruitment base need not remain strictly national. A German army defending European commitments already acts beyond its own soil and should thus be open, philosophically and practically, to all who identify with those values and obligations. To fight for Germany, in this sense, is to fight for the civic principles embedded in its constitution and alliances — not for blood or birthplace.
In recent years, the Bundeswehr itself has debated recruiting foreign nationals to address personnel shortages and reflect this evolving reality. Reports from the German Defense Ministry in 2018 confirmed plans to consider enlisting EU citizens for certain specialized roles, particularly in medicine and IT, recognizing that such inclusion does not undermine loyalty but expands it. Later analyses highlighted that opening recruitment to broader migrant communities could align the military with the social diversity that defines modern Germany.
We all fight together for shared values. So why not in a shared army?
The Ethics of Allegiance
Philosophically, allegiance is not a matter of origin but of volition. The social contract that binds the soldier to the state is one of choice, not inheritance. When an immigrant or dual-national pledges to defend their adopted homeland’s values, their commitment often carries profound existential meaning — a form of civic affirmation that transcends bureaucratic citizenship. The idea that only nationals can embody loyalty is a residue of 19th‑century nationalism, incompatible with the integrated politics of the 21st century.
The Légion Étrangère demonstrates this principle elegantly. Foreigners, some of whom possess no formal citizenship, are entrusted with France’s defense, with the understanding that service itself creates belonging. Through discipline and sacrifice, identity is forged anew. The same philosophical foundation could extend naturally to a Bundeswehr that defends not merely Germany for Germans but Germany for Europe, Germany for a free will and free people.
Such a transformation would not weaken national sovereignty; it would re‑interpret it. Sovereignty would become not territorial exclusivity but moral leadership within a shared order. Germany, by allowing non‑citizens who commit to democratic values and mutual defense to serve, would affirm its position as a civic rather than ethnic state. Migrants from Turkey, Spain, Portugal, and Greece, Syria and Afghanistan who feel bound to Germany through community, work, and shared life would formalize that bond in the most direct way possible — through service.
Civic Cosmopolitanism and the Military
This logic aligns with cosmopolitanism, the philosophical view that moral obligation extends beyond one’s nation to humanity as a whole. The cosmopolitan soldier fights not out of nationalist pride but duty to justice and peace, expressed through collective defense. Within NATO, this cosmopolitan ideal already governs practice, even if not yet law. Each nation still recruits its own citizens, yet they are united in a moral community of risk — they will die for each other’s people.
A policy that allows non‑citizens to enlist in NATO armies would therefore not create something new but institutionalize what already exists in spirit. When a German soldier dies defending Estonia’s border, the moral and emotional boundary of “home” has already shifted. The Legion Etrangère model simply acknowledges that belonging can be forged through loyalty to values, not origin.
Historical Perspectives
Historically, armies have always contained foreigners. Even the German forces during the Second World War enlisted foreign volunteers and conscripts for ideological or strategic reasons. The difference today lies in motivation: not coercion or conquest, but shared commitment to peace and collective security. The ethical weight of voluntary service for another’s freedom transforms what was once instrumental into something moral.
The pragmatic argument also supports reform. NATO and EU member states face recruitment shortages while hosting millions of residents with strong social, economic, and emotional ties. Their integration through military service would serve as both inclusion and empowerment, creating a tangible expression of European unity. This would not duplicate the Légion Étrangère but update it — a European Legion for a democratic age.
Toward a European Legion
Envisioning a European “Legion of Values” under the German banner but open to all loyal residents reflects philosophical realism. The Europe of treaties and the Germany of 2025 are no longer monocultural states but pluralistic communities tied through law and ethics. Allowing migrants to serve operationalizes Kant’s ideal of a cosmopolitan order founded on law and respect. It turns residence into participation, belonging into commitment. The oath to defend the Basic Law — die freiheitlich-demokratische Grundordnung — could become a civic initiation ceremony stronger than any passport.
This also resonates with Nietzsche’s concept of Überwindung — overcoming narrow boundaries to create higher forms of belonging. A transnational army under democratic direction would illustrate humanity’s progression from tribal defense to rational solidarity. It asserts that the value of a nation lies not in its homogeneity but in its ability to inspire loyalty across difference.
My most recent haircut
The German soldier defending Lithuanian ground under NATO’s flag already lives the contradiction between nationalism and supranational duty. To resolve it ethically means redefining service itself: not as defense of a soil but of a moral order. The Légion Étrangère embodies the timeless truth that loyalty follows meaning, not birthplace. A Bundeswehr or NATO army inclusive of migrants willing to share its risks and values would simply align policy with reality.
In an era of interdependence, the soldier’s belonging must evolve as much as the society he serves. The legionnaire of the 21st century is not a mercenary but a citizen of ideals — fighting for a homeland that is moral, not merely territorial. Opening national armies to foreigners thus does not dissolve identity; it fulfills it. For Germany and Europe, this would mean transforming the paradox of collective defense into a conscious philosophy: a community of warriors bound not by blood, but by the shared defense of freedom itself.
Last time, when I was at the barber, the conversation turned to my job in the army. The Turkish barbers celebrated me as a German soldier and said they were firmly determined to defend this, our shared country, against the Russians. These young men, with their own ideals and Turkish YouTube videos at the wall, are the best proof of an inclusive society — one that recognizes brothers in spirit rather than dividing people by passports or bloodlines. We all fight together for shared values. So why not in a shared army?
The ideas expressed here align with current debates in Germany about integrating people with migration backgrounds into the Bundeswehr. Studies show that people with a migration background often express higher trust in the armed forces and a strong willingness to contribute to national defense, viewing it as an act of shared civic responsibility. Bundeswehr and Syrians? Can only make us stronger.
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