By Ayoub Abu Dayyeh
Every summer, southern Europe braces for another wildfire season. This year, large fires have swept across parts of Spain, Sicily and southwestern France, destroying forests, threatening villages, forcing evacuations, and leaving behind landscapes that may take generations to recover.
Firefighters have displayed extraordinary courage, often risking their lives against flames intensified by drought, heat waves, mulch and strong winds. Yet the repeated return of these disasters raises a question that extends beyond climate change and forest management. It is a political and moral question about priorities.
Spain and France are among Europe’s strongest economies and are both leading members of NATO. Together with their allies, they possess some of the most advanced military capabilities ever assembled. NATO can mobilise fleets of aircraft, satellites, drones, logistics networks, and highly trained personnel with remarkable speed when military operations are required. History has shown that the alliance has been able to sustain prolonged military campaigns in countries such as Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran and Libya, while individual member states have also participated in operations in Syria and against Iran-backed military targets in recent years. The financial and technological resources devoted to warfare are immense.
Against this backdrop, the struggle against wildfires appears strangely underpowered. Each summer, firefighters often speak of aircraft shortages, exhausted crews, and limited resources. Local authorities compete for specialized firefighting planes because demand exceeds supply. Countries request assistance from their neighbors through European cooperation mechanisms, yet devastating fires frequently continue burning for days before sufficient aerial support arrives. Even Jordan has participated in firefighting in Cyprus on many occasions.
This contrast invites reflection. If nations possess the industrial capacity to manufacture sophisticated fighter jets, cruise missiles, precision-guided weapons, and advanced drones and surveillance systems, why does the world still struggle to produce enough specialised firefighting aircraft? If military alliances can coordinate thousands of personnel across continents within hours, why is a similarly ambitious international system for combating natural disasters still so limited?
The question is not whether military forces should disappear. Every nation has legitimate security concerns and responsibilities to defend its citizens. Rather, the question concerns balance, justice and equity. Security today is no longer defined solely by armies confronting one another. Climate change, prolonged droughts, extreme heat, floods, and wildfires increasingly threaten lives, infrastructure, food security, biodiversity, and economic stability. A forest fire that destroys thousands of hectares, devastates tourism, and fills cities with smoke is not merely an environmental problem. It is a national security challenge.
Imagine if even a small fraction of global military expenditure were redirected toward environmental emergency preparedness. Hundreds of additional firefighting aircraft could be built and strategically stationed around the Mediterranean basin. Satellite systems already monitoring military movements could continuously detect new fires within minutes. Military logistics could rapidly deploy firefighters, engineers, medical teams, and equipment wherever flames emerge. Joint exercises could prepare nations not only for armed conflict but also for climate-related disasters.
Such an initiative would not require abandoning defense. It would simply recognise that the threats of the twenty-first century demand broader definitions of security. Protecting forests, preserving water resources, and safeguarding communities against climate-driven disasters deserve the same seriousness that governments devote to conventional military planning.
Some may argue that military aircraft cannot simply replace firefighting planes. They are correct. Different missions require different equipment, training, and tactics. Nevertheless, the comparison remains valid at the level of priorities. The capacity to invest, innovate, manufacture, and coordinate certainly exists. The real question is whether sufficient political will exists to treat environmental emergencies with equal urgency.
The forests burning across Spain, Sicily, Greece and France remind us that nature does not recognize national borders. Smoke drifts across countries and so pollution. Wildlife disappears without passports. Carbon released from burning forests contributes further to global warming, increasing the likelihood of future fires. Every delayed response makes the next disaster more probable.
History often celebrates technological achievements developed for war. Perhaps the coming decades should instead celebrate technologies developed for protecting life. Imagine an international alliance whose greatest strength lies not in the destructive power of its weapons but in its ability to extinguish fires, prevent famine, restore ecosystems, and save human lives before disaster spreads.
The smoke rising above the forests of Spain and France should therefore provoke more than sympathy. It should provoke a reassessment of our collective priorities. Humanity has demonstrated extraordinary ingenuity in designing machines capable of striking targets thousands of kilometers away with astonishing precision. Surely the same ingenuity can be directed toward extinguishing fires that threaten our shared natural heritage.
In the end, the measure of civilization is not only how effectively it wages war, but also how effectively it protects life. When future generations look back at our time, they may ask a simple question: Why was it easier to finance destruction than to prevent forests from burning? The answer will reveal far more about our values than about our technology.
Ayoub Abu Dayyeh wrote this piece for The Jordan Times.
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