Europe congratulates itself on leading the charge toward net zero. Brussels churns out grand climate targets with missionary zeal, as if sheer legislation can will a carbon-neutral continent into existence. But behind the lofty rhetoric lies an inconvenient truth: Europe has little control over the critical minerals needed to power its green revolution.
Rare earth elements, the metals that make electric cars run, wind turbines spin and smartphones smart, are overwhelmingly processed in China. Europe has some deposits of its own, but they remain buried beneath layers of red tape, green activism and regulatory inertia. The result? A dependence every bit as dangerous as the continent’s past addiction to cheap Russian gas. Swap Gazprom for Beijing’s mineral monopoly and the risk to Europe’s national security is obvious.
Critical Minerals for Green Tech
The European Green Deal promises a carbon-neutral continent by 2050, with emissions cut in half by the end of this decade. The problem? Europe doesn’t control the minerals needed to make it happen.
Take silicon, the backbone of semiconductors, solar panels and EV batteries. It may be abundant in the earth’s crust, but the high-purity kind is produced mainly in Russia, the United States and Brazil — hardly a recipe for stable supply chains. Silver, essential for solar cells because of its conductivity, is also heavily sourced from China. Then there are rare earth elements, the metals that make wind turbines spin and electric motors turn, where Beijing reigns supreme.
Ursula von der Leyen herself admitted it back in 2022: nearly 90 per cent of rare earths and 60 per cent of lithium are processed in China. By 2024, Europe’s imports told the same story: almost half from China, nearly a third from Russia, and much of the rest from Malaysia. Drill down further and it’s worse: 99 per cent of Europe’s rare earth feedstock and 98 per cent of its permanent magnets come from Chinese plants.
Meanwhile, demand is about to explode. By 2030, Europe’s appetite for rare earths will grow fivefold, fuelled mainly by electric vehicles. Ninety-five per cent of EVs rely on rare earth motors, and the EU automotive sector is projected to be worth €400 billion, employing six million people. A single supply shock, whether from Moscow’s mischief or Beijing’s sabre-rattling over Taiwan, could derail not only Europe’s climate plans but the livelihoods of millions.
China’s grip goes far beyond the mines though. State-owned giants don’t just extract and refine: they own the patents, dominate the distribution networks and, through the Belt and Road Initiative, lock up future supplies in Africa, Latin America and Eurasia. The reach is total.
Nor is this just about wind turbines and Teslas. Rare earths such as lanthanum, europium and erbium are the invisible wiring of the 21st century. They make quantum computing possible, power fibre-optic systems used in secure communications, and sit at the heart of military intelligence and encryption. They are in robotics, medical diagnostics, even biomedical imaging. Strip away the rhetoric, and Europe’s entire future — economic, technological, military — rests on the goodwill of Beijing.
Parallels with 1973 Oil Crisis
History, as the old Latin maxim goes, is life’s teacher. And it doesn’t take a classics education to see the lesson. In 1973, the Arab states of OPEC turned off the oil taps to punish the West for supporting Israel. Prices quadrupled, queues formed at petrol stations, inflation went through the roof, and Europe learned the hard way that energy dependence is a national security risk.
Half a century later, the names have changed but the story is the same. Swap Saudi oil for Chinese rare earths and the picture looks uncannily familiar. These obscure metals now power everything from F-35 fighter jets and smartphones to wind turbines, electric cars and quantum computers. And Beijing refines over 90 per cent of them.
China has already shown it is willing to weaponise this dominance. In 2010, it slapped an embargo on Japan. In 2025, it tightened exports of heavy rare earths again. The warning lights are flashing. The only difference between then and now is that today’s predicament may be worse. Oil fuelled the industrial age; rare earths fuel the digital, green and defence economies all at once. Dependence on OPEC in 1973 was painful. Dependence on China in 2025 could be crippling.
Russian Interference in European Energy
Before Putin rolled tanks into Ukraine, he was busy funding activists in Europe. Not soldiers, but NGOs, green groups whose mission was to stop Europe drilling its own gas. In 2014, the year Russia annexed Crimea, NATO’s Secretary General openly admitted it: Moscow was bankrolling environmental campaigns designed to keep Europe hooked on imported Russian energy. It worked.
Western oil majors such as Shell and ExxonMobil happily courted Gazprom, while regulators tied up domestic projects in endless red tape. The UK government even rejected Shell’s plan to expand North Sea gas production, at the very moment Russia was squeezing supply. Many of the same green NGOs later turned up pushing “ESG” standards in boardrooms, a movement that made Western companies feel virtuous while leaving Europe strategically crippled.
The results speak for themselves. By 2021, investment in oil and gas had fallen nearly 50 per cent from 2011 levels. Discoveries were at record lows. By 2025, spending was projected to fall yet again, with majors pulling out of the North Sea altogether, citing hostile tax regimes and regulatory suffocation. Europe congratulated itself on leading the climate crusade while deepening its dependence on the Kremlin.
The irony is delicious, if also lethal. By demonising natural gas, which produces half the emissions of coal, green activism managed to resurrect coal itself. When gas grew scarce and expensive, EU countries fired up coal plants to keep the lights on. Emissions rose, grids wobbled, and the great “transition” stalled. For two decades, Europe’s biggest emissions reductions had come not from wind or solar but from swapping coal for gas. By sabotaging that bridge fuel, the climate lobby has slowed decarbonisation and made Europe more vulnerable to the very autocrats it claims to despise.
From Globalisation to Resource Security
For two centuries, Europe clung to the gospel of David Ricardo, the comforting notion that comparative advantage and globalisation would deliver endless prosperity. Buy cheap abroad, specialise at home, and everyone wins. That illusion has collapsed. Russia’s war in Ukraine, America’s trade spats, China’s economic bullying — all have reminded us that supply chains are not neutral. They are weapons.
Henry Kissinger put it more bluntly: survival requires autonomy. That doesn’t mean retreating into autarky, a mistake he argued helped cause the Second World War, but it does mean valuing resilience over efficiency. You can trade with the world, but you must never become hostage to it.
Japan learned this lesson in the 1970s. It subsidised domestic rice production even though imports were cheaper, simply because food security mattered more than economic orthodoxy. It invested abroad to secure non-Chinese rare earths and energy, paying more if necessary, because security always comes at a price.
Europe, by contrast, still worships at the altar of short-term cost efficiency. The result is dependence on Gazprom yesterday, on Beijing today. A strategy built on bargain prices is no strategy at all. Like Japan, Europe must accept that paying more now for resource resilience is cheaper than paying the strategic price later. Otherwise, the continent risks repeating Germany’s mistake in both world wars: marching into crisis without the supplies needed to endure it.
Europe’s Strategic Response
At long last, Europe is awakening from its slumber. Brussels has unveiled its Critical Raw Materials Act and the European Raw Materials Alliance, promising to mine, process and recycle its way out of dependence. France is pushing ahead: Solvay is reviving rare earth production in La Rochelle, aiming to cover a third of Europe’s demand, while startups like MagREEsource and Carester are experimenting with recycling. Sweden has even declared its vast Kiruna deposit a “Strategic Project”, a rare moment of industrial realism.
But for all the speeches and jargon, the facts remain stark: China still controls more than 90 per cent of rare earth processing, and its latest export restrictions have exposed Europe’s fragility. The strategy is right, but the tempo is glacial.
Europe has been here before with Russian gas. We woke up only after disaster struck. Unless Brussels moves faster, the continent risks swapping one dependence for another, congratulating itself on its “green transition” while handing Beijing control over its energy, its industry, and even its defence. Climate ambition is cheap; sovereignty is not.
Victoria Meller
Vice-President of ECPYouth
