The German Airbus works council revives the idea of an FCAS without Dassault, against a backdrop of governance and leadership conflict over the New Generation Fighter.
In summary
The SCAF program (Future Combat Air System – FCAS) is going through one of its most critical phases since its launch in 2017. On November 13, 2025, the Airbus works council in Germany publicly renewed its call to end the partnership with Dassault Aviation, arguing that the French manufacturer “is not the right partner” and citing BAE Systems, Leonardo, or Saab as possible alternatives. These statements come after several months of tension over the distribution of costs and the industrial governance of the SCAF, particularly regarding the central pillar of the New Generation Fighter (NGF), which Paris considers strategic. The new French Minister of the Armed Forces, Catherine Vautrin, has reaffirmed that France intends to retain the prime contractorship for this fighter jet of the future, while putting pressure on Berlin to break the deadlock. For his part, the head of Airbus Defence and Space, Michael Schöllhorn, warned that the FCAS “will have no chance” if a compromise is not found quickly. In short, the SCAF finds itself caught between industrial rivalries, national agendas, and very tight political deadlines.
Pressure from the German Airbus works council
The comments from the German works council at Airbus are not simply union rhetoric. By reiterating the idea of an FCAS “without Dassault” on November 13, employee representatives have taken things a step further. They are no longer content to criticize the division of labor; they are questioning the very relevance of Dassault as a partner, explaining that “more suitable partners exist in Europe,” explicitly citing BAE Systems, Leonardo, and Saab.
This stance is part of a longer sequence. Since 2021, German Airbus unions have been advocating for a demonstrator and FCAS architecture that would guarantee a significant workload in Bavaria and North Rhine-Westphalia. They are wary of a scenario in which France would lead the NGF and retain a dominant share of the critical components, leaving Germany with more standardized blocks or “luxury subcontractor” functions.
The discourse on “Dassault, a bad partner” combines industrial reality and negotiating posture. Yes, Dassault’s corporate culture is very different from that of Airbus: vertical integration, jealous control of intellectual property, experience of solo programs. On the other hand, Airbus is a European conglomerate accustomed to political compromise and the pooling of technologies. The clash is real. But the works council is also exploiting this discrepancy to push Berlin to take a tougher stance against Paris, or even to leave itself a way out if the SCAF becomes too politically costly.
Let’s be clear: these calls to turn to BAE, Leonardo, or Saab are not credible in the short term from a technical standpoint. Switching back to a GCAP-type partnership would mean starting almost from scratch, renegotiating intergovernmental agreements, redefining industrial sharing, and accepting a subordinate position behind London and Rome. This is not a rational scenario for 2040. On the other hand, brandishing this threat is a fairly transparent way of reminding Paris that Germany has options, even if they are imperfect, and that it will refuse a SCAF designed as a “Rafale bis” paid for by three countries.
The battle for leadership over the New Generation Fighter
At the heart of the conflict is the New Generation Fighter, the most visible—and most symbolic—component of the Future Air Combat System. From the outset, France has considered that this pillar should be placed under the project management of Dassault, given its experience with the Rafale and its future responsibilities for the airborne component of nuclear deterrence. Germany, backed by Airbus, accepts the principle but refuses what it considers to be an excessive imbalance of responsibilities for the airframe, avionics, and certain intellectual property components.
The new French minister, Catherine Vautrin, has chosen an unambiguous line of communication. In several public statements in early November, she pointed out that Germany “does not have the capacity to design a combat aircraft on its own” and insisted on the need to retain control over the design of the NGF. She also stressed that there is an “urgent need” to move forward with the SCAF, at the risk of seeing the schedule slip beyond 2040 and having to extend the Rafale longer than planned.
This statement has the merit of clarity, but it has an obvious collateral effect: it fuels resentment on the German side. Hearing a French minister publicly explain that Berlin would not be able to design a fighter jet of the future without Paris does not go down well in a context where Germany has just committed more than €100 billion to a special fund to modernize its forces and where Airbus legitimately sees itself as a major player in military aeronautics.
On the industrial front, the battle for leadership is being fought over concrete “workshares”: who designs and manufactures the wings, who defines the avionics architecture, who already owns critical software components, and who will be able to reuse them on other programs? For Dassault, giving up too much ground on these points would weaken its position on future Rafale standards and sensitive exports. For Airbus, accepting a secondary role on the NGF would be untenable vis-à-vis its employees and the German political class, which is largely financing the SCAF program.
Until this battle is decided, everything else—support drones, cloud combat, schedule—remains up in the air.
Michael Schöllhorn’s repeated warning
In this climate, the statements made by Michael Schöllhorn, CEO of Airbus Defence and Space, take on particular importance. He warned that, as early as the first half of 2025, the FCAS “will have no chance of success” if the issue of governance and industrial sharing is not resolved quickly. He explicitly mentioned the end of 2025 as the deadline for securing entry into phase 2 of the program, the demonstrator phase.
For a leader of this level, this type of public warning is not insignificant. Schöllhorn is sending several messages simultaneously:
– to Paris, that Airbus will not indefinitely accept an unfavorable balance of power on the NGF;
– to Berlin, that politicians must make a decision, or else German industry will find itself merely following the lead of others or, worse, marginalized;
– to employees, that he is not abandoning the Franco-German partnership, but that he will not sacrifice Airbus’s interests on the altar of a shaky compromise.
In the background, there is also growing fatigue with the accumulation of major programs in Europe: SCAF/FCAS, the tank of the future (MGCS), GCAP, and multiple national modernization plans. Industrialists know that budgets are not infinite. If they perceive that SCAF is becoming a bottomless pit with no guarantee of success, there will be a strong temptation to reallocate resources to projects deemed more politically “safe,” such as advanced versions of the Eurofighter or simpler armed drones.
The problem is that this game of brinkmanship carries a real risk of accident. By repeating that “the FCAS may fail,” we trivialize the idea that abandoning it would be acceptable. This may be true for some German officials, who are tempted by the F-35 and the GCAP. It is much less so for France, which has no credible plan B for replacing the Rafale by 2040 if the SCAF collapses.
The alternatives brandished by Berlin, between bluff and real temptation
When the Airbus works council puts forward BAE Systems, Leonardo, or Saab as “best partners,” we must not be naive. Part of this discourse is industrial bluffing: showing that Germany would not be condemned to follow Paris if the Franco-German partnership were to come to an end. But another part reflects a very real temptation in Berlin: to move closer to the GCAP camp, where the United Kingdom and Italy have already set the ball rolling.
In reality, a complete shift by Germany to GCAP would be costly and time-consuming. It would require renegotiating intergovernmental agreements, redistributing industrial tasks, and agreeing to join a program in which certain structural choices have already been made without it. Moreover, such a decision would further fracture the European landscape between several competing systems: F-35, SCAF, GCAP.
However, the mere fact that these scenarios are now being discussed publicly shows how much trust has been undermined. On the German side, many still cannot stomach the perception of SCAF as “made by Dassault with German money.” On the French side, there is irritation at Berlin’s contradictory signals: massive purchases of F-35s for nuclear missions, lip service to the SCAF, and insistence on a “Super Eurofighter” as an alternative.
The truth, which is a little unpleasant to hear, is that everyone is keeping their options open. Paris knows that it can slow down the rise of the SCAF while betting on major upgrades to the Rafale (F5 then F6) if necessary. Berlin knows that it can rely more on the F-35, the Eurofighter, and possibly the GCAP. It is precisely because these loopholes exist that negotiations are stalling: no player has their back against the wall.
A political test for the credibility of the SCAF and European defense
Beyond the games played by the various players, this new governance crisis is a political test for the Future Combat Air System and, more broadly, for Europe’s ability to carry out a major strategic program. The SCAF is set to replace the Rafale, the Eurofighter, and the Spanish F/A-18s from 2040 onwards. It alone embodies the challenges of technological sovereignty, nuclear deterrence, credibility vis-à-vis NATO, and industrial consolidation.
Catherine Vautrin’s statements on Germany’s ability to design an aircraft, Schöllhorn’s statements on the risk of failure, and the Airbus works council’s statements on Dassault being a “bad partner” are not just empty threats. They are symptomatic of a deeper unease: each country wants a symbol of national power, while officially espousing a discourse of “European defense.” Until this contradiction is addressed, the Future Combat Air System will remain a source of constant tension.
If industrial and political decisions are not made by the end of 2025, the program will enter a dangerous gray area. Demonstration phases will be delayed, budgets will be reallocated, and engineers will disperse to other projects. The risk is not only losing a few years; it is setting a precedent that will discourage any future attempts at major European programs in the field of complex weapons systems.
At this stage, two things are at least clear. First, SCAF is no longer a technical issue, but a matter of heavy industrial policy, with unions, boards of directors, and ministers intervening directly. Second, if the SCAF program fails, no one will be able to claim that it was a victim of chance. The warnings, appeals to reason, and alarm bells have been sounded. If, despite everything, the European fighter jet of the future does not see the light of day, it will be a collective choice—implicit, but very real—to abandon the ambition of sovereignty and return to dependence on other suppliers.
Sources:
AeroTime, “Germany’s Airbus works council renews call to end FCAS partnership with Dassault,” November 2025.
Hartpunkt, “Airbus works council: Dassault is the wrong partner for FCAS,” July 2025.
Naano/Handelsblatt, “Airbus works council questions FCAS partnership,” September 2025.
Klamm / dts, “Zukunftskampfjet FCAS droht zu scheitern – Airbus fordert politische Lösung”, June 2025.
Opex360, “Referring to the SCAF, Ms. Vautrin insists: ‘Germany does not have the capacity to manufacture an aircraft’”, November 2025.
Valeurs Actuelles / 7sur7, statements by Catherine Vautrin on the urgency of moving forward with the SCAF, November 2025.
Die Zeit, Handelsblatt, analyses of the risks of FCAS failure and Franco-German tensions, July–September 2025.
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