As the European Parliament prepares to welcome representatives from six Gulf monarchies, uncomfortable questions are emerging about the moral foundations of Europe’s foreign policy. Can Brussels credibly champion democracy and human rights while deepening relations with governments accused of suppressing dissent, restricting fundamental freedoms and exploiting migrant workers?

The European Union has long presented itself as a global defender of democracy, human rights and the rule of law. Yet its growing enthusiasm for closer relations with the Gulf monarchies raises an increasingly uncomfortable question: how much are those principles worth when substantial economic and strategic interests are at stake?

On October 16th, the European Parliament will host senior parliamentary representatives from the six members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC): Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain and Oman.

The conference, chaired by European Parliament President Roberta Metsola, will address parliamentary cooperation, maritime security and the geopolitical consequences of Russia’s war against Ukraine.

On paper, the initiative represents an entirely reasonable diplomatic exercise. Europe needs reliable energy supplies, secure international shipping routes and constructive relations with influential Middle Eastern governments.

But there is another side to this developing partnership, one that Brussels cannot simply dismiss as an inconvenient complication.

Several Gulf governments maintain political systems in which meaningful democratic opposition is severely restricted, freedom of expression is curtailed and individuals can face imprisonment for challenging those in power.

The question is not whether Europe should maintain diplomatic relations with such countries. It plainly must.

The question is whether those relations should be celebrated as strategic partnerships without demanding meaningful improvements in the treatment of their own citizens.

The uncomfortable reality behind Gulf prosperity

Saudi Arabia’s international image has undergone a remarkable transformation in recent years.

Under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the kingdom has promoted ambitious economic reforms, tourism projects and international sporting events designed to present a modernising society. Yet this carefully cultivated image sits uneasily alongside its human rights record.

Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have repeatedly documented concerns over executions, restrictions on political dissent, arbitrary detention and the treatment of women’s rights activists.

The murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Istanbul in 2018 remains an enduring symbol of the dangers faced by critics of the Saudi leadership. A 2021 US intelligence assessment concluded that the Crown Prince had approved an operation to capture or kill Khashoggi, an assessment rejected by Saudi Arabia.

Qatar, meanwhile, has attracted sustained criticism over the treatment of migrant workers, particularly during preparations for the 2022 FIFA World Cup. Although labour reforms were introduced, human rights organisations continue to question their implementation and the effectiveness of protections against exploitation.

The UAE, despite its reputation for modernity and commercial sophistication, has similarly faced criticism over restrictions on political expression, detention of dissidents and the absence of meaningful electoral democracy at national level.

Bahrain has been criticised for imprisoning opposition figures and restricting political freedoms, while concerns about migrant labour protections and freedom of expression extend across other Gulf states, albeit with important differences in their individual records.

These are not minor administrative shortcomings. They concern fundamental rights that the European Union claims to regard as universal and non-negotiable.

When strategic interests outweigh principles

There is an unmistakable contradiction in Europe’s approach. The European Parliament routinely condemns authoritarian practices in Russia, Belarus and other countries where political freedoms are suppressed. It demands accountability, democratic reform and respect for international law.

Yet when dealing with wealthy Gulf monarchies, the language often becomes considerably more accommodating. Economic opportunity, investment, energy security and regional stability suddenly dominate the conversation.

Such selective emphasis risks creating the impression that Europe’s commitment to human rights is determined less by universal principle than by the commercial and geopolitical importance of the country concerned.

That is a dangerous perception for an institution whose international credibility depends heavily upon its moral authority.

If the imprisonment of political opponents is unacceptable in Moscow or Minsk, why should comparable abuses become less objectionable when committed by governments possessing substantial sovereign wealth funds or strategically important energy reserves?

Europe cannot reasonably demand consistency from others while appearing unwilling to apply it to itself.

The strategic argument remains compelling

None of this diminishes the genuine importance of cooperation with the Gulf. The Strait of Hormuz and the Red Sea are essential maritime corridors connecting Europe with global energy suppliers and Asian markets. Threats to commercial shipping, regional instability and the activities of Iran-aligned armed groups present legitimate security concerns.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has also demonstrated the dangers of excessive dependence upon unreliable external partners. Diversifying energy relationships is therefore a sensible strategic objective.

Moreover, Gulf governments possess considerable diplomatic influence, including relationships with states and political actors that European governments may struggle to engage directly.

But strategic necessity does not automatically confer moral legitimacy.

Indeed, Europe’s previous dependence upon Russian energy offers a particularly sobering lesson. For years, European governments convinced themselves that extensive commercial engagement with Moscow would encourage moderation and political stability.

Instead, economic interdependence failed to prevent Russian aggression, leaving Europe exposed when that relationship collapsed. It would be reckless to assume that expanding commercial relations with authoritarian governments necessarily produces political liberalisation.

What does parliamentary cooperation actually mean?

The proposed conference also raises questions about the meaning of parliamentary dialogue.

The European Parliament is a directly elected institution, accountable to hundreds of millions of citizens through competitive democratic elections.

The political institutions of the Gulf states operate under markedly different arrangements, with varying degrees of appointed representation, limited electoral participation and executive authority concentrated within ruling families.

Describing these relationships simply as parliamentary cooperation risks obscuring fundamental differences in democratic legitimacy.

Dialogue can undoubtedly serve a useful purpose. But it should not be allowed to imply an equivalence between representative democratic institutions and political structures in which citizens have far fewer opportunities to challenge those governing them.

Nor should participation in prestigious European institutional events become an exercise in international reputation management for governments facing serious human rights allegations.

A test of Europe’s credibility

The European Parliament has an opportunity to demonstrate that closer cooperation need not mean abandoning its principles.

It could insist that human rights form a substantive part of future engagement, including scrutiny of political imprisonment, freedom of expression, judicial independence and migrant worker protections.

It could also establish mechanisms for monitoring progress rather than relying upon diplomatic assurances.

Such measures would not necessarily undermine economic cooperation. They would establish that the relationship carries responsibilities as well as benefits.

Ultimately, the issue is not whether Europe should talk to the Gulf monarchies, but whether it possesses the political courage to challenge them.

A European Union that condemns authoritarianism in one part of the world while accommodating it elsewhere risks reducing its professed values to little more than diplomatic convenience.

Europe may need the Gulf’s energy, investment and strategic influence, but it should not have to surrender its conscience to obtain them.

And if Brussels cannot reconcile its commercial ambitions with its democratic principles, it must confront a deeply uncomfortable possibility: that Europe’s foreign policy is increasingly being guided not by the values it proclaims, but by the wealth and influence of those sitting across the negotiating table.

The European Parliament has delivered a sharp rebuke to Ireland’s proposals for the EU’s next seven-year budget, warning that cuts to competitiveness, security and regional development could leave Europe dangerously ill-equipped to confront mounting geopolitical and economic challenges.

The European Union is heading towards a potentially bruising institutional confrontation over its next long-term budget, after senior Members of the European Parliament rejected proposals from the Irish Presidency of the Council to reduce the European Commission’s spending plans by eight per cent.

The dispute concerns the Multiannual Financial Framework (MFF) for 2028–2034, which will determine not merely how much Brussels spends, but the extent to which Europe can deliver on its increasingly ambitious political, economic and security objectives.

At stake is a fundamental question: can the European Union realistically aspire to become a more competitive, strategically independent global power while its member states resist providing the financial resources necessary to achieve those ambitions?

Parliament Draws a Red Line

In a statement published on 10th October, Parliament’s principal budget negotiators, Siegfried Mureșan of the European People’s Party and Carla Tavares of the Socialists and Democrats, firmly rejected the Irish negotiating framework.

They were joined by Danuše Nerudová and Sandra Gómez López, Parliament’s co-rapporteurs responsible for developing new sources of EU revenue.

Their objections centre on the proposed reduction of approximately €141 billion from the Commission’s original spending plans.

Mureșan warned that the reductions would undermine Europe’s ability to respond to growing demands for defence, economic competitiveness and security.

He also highlighted the erosion of the EU budget’s purchasing power, which Parliament estimates has declined by approximately ten per cent because of inflation.

The implication is uncomfortable for national governments: maintaining apparently substantial expenditure figures does not necessarily translate into maintaining Europe’s capacity to act.

Ireland’s Difficult Balancing Act

Ireland, currently holding the rotating Council Presidency, has attempted to reconcile two increasingly contradictory political demands.

On one side stand governments seeking greater investment in defence, technological innovation, economic resilience and geopolitical influence.

On the other are national finance ministries confronting constrained public finances, mounting borrowing costs and electorates increasingly resistant to additional expenditure.

The Irish Presidency’s proposal envisages approximately €1.62 trillion in commitments, expressed in 2025 prices, representing a substantial increase over the existing seven-year framework.

Dublin argues that its negotiating position offers an ambitious but financially realistic compromise, preserving traditional agricultural and cohesion spending while accommodating emerging priorities.

Yet the European Parliament remains unconvinced.

Particularly contentious are proposed reductions of 12.8 per cent in competitiveness expenditure and 17.4 per cent in external action compared with the Commission’s plans.

These are precisely the areas in which Brussels has repeatedly promised greater international influence.

Defence Ambitions Meet Financial Reality

The timing could scarcely be more awkward. Russia’s continuing aggression against Ukraine has exposed Europe’s dependence on American military capabilities, while mounting geopolitical uncertainty has reinforced demands for greater European strategic autonomy.

Meanwhile, competition from China and the United States is placing European industries under unprecedented pressure.

Brussels regularly speaks of technological sovereignty, stronger defence industries and reduced dependence on external suppliers, however, those objectives require sustained investment.

Cutting expenditure intended to strengthen competitiveness while simultaneously demanding that European companies compete more effectively internationally risks becoming an exercise in political contradiction.

Nevertheless, Parliament’s position deserves scrutiny too. Greater expenditure does not automatically produce better outcomes. Europe’s problems with fragmented defence procurement, regulatory complexity and slow implementation cannot simply be resolved by increasing budget allocations.

A credible financial settlement must therefore combine sufficient resources with demonstrably improved efficiency and accountability.

The Battle Over Europe’s Own Resources

Perhaps the most consequential disagreement concerns how the Union should finance its expenditure.

Parliament has repeatedly argued that the EU must develop additional independent revenue streams rather than relying excessively on contributions from national governments.

Its proposals include levies associated with digital services, online gambling and cryptocurrency capital gains. MEPs believe these measures could generate approximately €30 billion beyond the additional revenue already envisaged by the Commission.

The Irish Presidency has advanced a revenue package that it estimates could eventually raise around €55 billion annually, but agreement among member states remains elusive.

This disagreement exposes an enduring weakness in European integration.

Governments frequently demand collective European action while remaining reluctant to surrender control over the financial mechanisms necessary to support it.

A Political Confrontation With Serious Consequences

The institutional arithmetic makes Parliament’s opposition particularly significant. Although member states must unanimously approve the long-term financial framework, the European Parliament must also provide its consent by an absolute majority of MEPs. Consequently, national governments cannot simply impose a settlement over parliamentary objections.

Equally, the European Parliament cannot compel governments to finance its preferred spending programme. Both institutions therefore possess considerable negotiating leverage, raising the possibility of prolonged political deadlock.

The forthcoming European Council discussions on 15–16th October will provide an important indication of whether governments are prepared to reconsider their positions.

Europe’s Credibility Is on the Line

Ultimately, this dispute extends far beyond accounting. The European Union faces an increasingly hostile strategic environment, persistent economic challenges and growing demands for collective action.

Yet its institutional ambitions continue to outpace agreement on the financial commitments required to fulfil them.

Parliament is justified in questioning whether reducing investment in competitiveness and security represents prudent financial management or potentially damaging short-termism. National governments, however, are equally entitled to demand evidence that additional European expenditure will produce measurable benefits.

The solution cannot be unlimited spending, nor can it be indiscriminate austerity. Europe requires a budget that reflects its strategic responsibilities, backed by rigorous financial discipline and transparent political priorities.

Without such a settlement, the Union risks discovering that its greatest obstacle to becoming a serious geopolitical actor is not opposition from Washington, Moscow or Beijing, but its own inability to agree on the price of its ambitions.