En somnambules vers la dépendance

L’Europe aspire à l’autonomie stratégique. Pourtant, lorsqu’il s’agit de l’industrie automobile, certains États membres et de nombreuses entreprises européennes choisissent, au contraire, la dépendance à l’égard de la Chine.

China’s trade surplus with the European Union has reached the stratospheric level of €1 billion a day. Behind this staggering drain lies decades of strategic planning and industrial subsidies designed to make Chinese manufacturing technologically superior and unbeatable on cost, niche by niche, sector by sector. In pursuit of ultimate Chinese dominance, government authorities and state-owned enterprises have systematically dismantled the rules of fair competition, with massive overproduction as the inevitable by-product of artificially inflated industries.

That excess capacity is then dumped onto global markets to avert domestic collapse. The automotive industry is a case in point. Around one hundred Chinese brands produced more than 7 million electric and plug-in vehicles in the first half of 2026 alone, despite a sharply weakening domestic market. Unsurprisingly, exports have doubled in the space of a year, exceeding 2.3 million vehicles in just six months. It is export or existential crisis.

Chinese manufacturers like to describe their electric vehicles as smartphones on wheels, a reflection of the technological leap they have achieved through ferocious domestic competition. They are right. A Chinese car embodies battery and magnet technologies whose supply chains extend to China’s global dominance in the mining and refining of rare earths and other critical minerals. It runs on the software, semiconductors, cameras and sensors that form the backbone of China’s digital strategy. It continuously generates increasingly granular data on both users and their surroundings, providing the foundation for consumer services as well as next-generation mobility services. In its next iteration, it will evolve into an AI-driven robotic vehicle — a platform for Chinese leadership in artificial intelligence, a cornerstone of the sharing economy, and a critical asset for the logistics economy.

The Chinese electric vehicle is therefore far more than a car. It is a strategic hub for leadership across post-fossil industry, advanced technology, digitalisation, robotics, data and logistics. Much of this ecosystem has both civilian and military applications, positioning China ever more strongly against the United States in the global contest for technological supremacy. It is hardly surprising that America has effectively banned Chinese EV imports on national security grounds. The European Union, by contrast, has imposed only relatively modest tariffs that scarcely make a dent. Harder measures are under discussion, yet the threat is already evolving. While the EU remains divided, some companies and member states are moving towards a de facto merger with Chinese competitors.

This trend has been unfolding for years. Volvo, MG, Lotus and Santana were all European brands wholly or largely acquired by Chinese companies and subsequently marketed as European — the first wave. Stellantis, Renault, Volkswagen, Audi, BMW and Mercedes all maintain Chinese partnerships involving technology sharing or joint vehicle development — the second wave. Chinese manufacturers are meanwhile establishing production facilities in lower-cost countries that enjoy privileged trading relationships with the EU, notably Turkey and Morocco. This third wave circumvents potential European trade barriers by locating production on the Union’s doorstep.

The fourth wave is production inside the European Union itself: BYD in Orbán’s Hungary and Chery in Sánchez’s Spain, two countries whose governments hope to benefit economically while allowing China to deepen its geopolitical foothold in Europe. Meanwhile, Europe’s automotive assembly industry is undergoing unprecedented downsizing and restructuring, giving rise to a fifth wave: Western manufacturers seeking to survive by relocating rival Chinese production into Europe. Stellantis, through its partnership with Leapmotor, and Ford, through its agreement with Geely, have already announced such plans for Spain. Volvo Cars is expected to do the same in Belgium on behalf of its parent company Geely, facilitated, remarkably, by local subsidies intended to keep the production site alive.

The circle is thus complete. We subsidise Chinese production in Europe because Chinese imports, themselves heavily subsidised, are undermining European production. China and its industrial champions win twice, while Europe’s industrial base signs its own death warrant. This is how Europe is sleepwalking into geopolitical dependence.

There is an alternative to this slow-motion decline. Europe should treat automotive manufacturers as critical industries, much as it does foreign defence companies. Any foreign automotive company wishing to establish itself in Europe should be required to enter into a strategic compact with its host state, within the framework of pan-European planning. No market access without an economic partnership; no local production without joint ventures, local anchoring or meaningful technology transfer for the benefit of European industry. These are precisely the conditions China long imposed on European companies operating in China — and approaches that the European Commission is now itself considering in its dealings with China. Access to the European market is of existential importance to China’s export economy. It is high time Europe started playing that card, before it is too late.