The Italian government has abandoned plans to classify its €13.5bn Sicily bridge as a military asset hours after the US ambassador to NATO decried Rome’s ‘creative accounting to meet the Alliance’s spending targets.

The spat about the so-called bridge of ambtiion exposed transatlantic tensions over Europe’s defence commitments. Rome’s retreat, publicly announced on Wednesday afternoon, followed a Bloomberg report detailing American envoy Matthew Whitaker’s critique of projects with “no strategic military value” published in the morning.

Mr Whitaker’s rebuke came during a Tuesday interview in Slovenia. “It wasn’t bridges that have no military strategic value,” he said, stressing NATO’s five per cent GDP spending target must be met “with a straight face”. His remarks targeted Italy’s mooted bid to count the 3.3km Strait of Messina suspension bridge—approved last month after a decade’s delay—as dual-use infrastructure.

NATO’s red lines

An April government memo had argued the link would aid “national and international security” by moving troops and heavy vehicles, potentially qualifying it for NATO funds. Deputy PM Matteo Salvini, championing the project, even floated “dual use” for security. But by Wednesday afternoon, Italy’s transport ministry clarified: “No defence funds are earmarked… NATO resources are not on the agenda.”

Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni frames the bridge—slated for completion by 2033—as “strategic for the nation’s development”. It aims to connect Sicily’s underdeveloped south with mainland industries. Yet critics flag risks: the strait’s seismic activity, environmental damage, and mafia infiltration. Opponents also question its €13.5bn cost, enough to overhaul Sicily’s crumbling infrastructure twice over.

You might be interested

The project’s chequered history adds scepticism. First proposed under Mussolini, it gained momentum under Silvio Berlusconi before 2013’s cancellation over costs. Mr Salvini’s revival hinges on declaring it a “public utility”, bypassing local opposition. A government economic committee greenlit it last month, but financing remains murky; hence the NATO gambit.

Tanks, not bridges

Mr Whitaker’s bridge critique is part of a wider US push for European rearmament. At a Slovenian forum, he lamented allies’ “expanded view” of defence spending, citing “not enough war fighters” and sluggish growth. His three priorities—more troops, economic reforms, cyber defences—contrast with Italy’s bridge pitch. “Europe needs to fix its economic engine,” he said, “not just protect industries.”

Italy’s 1.5 per cent defence spend—far below NATO’s 2% target, let alone the mooted 5%—reflects fiscal strains. With debt at 137 per cent of GDP, Rome faces austerity pressures. Classifying civilian projects as military would ease budget pain, but irk Washington. “The first shot fired in another European war will be a cyber attack,” Mr Whitaker warned, urging investment in “artillery and tanks, not bridges”.

No defence funds are earmarked. NATO resources are not on the agenda. — Italy’s transport ministry

Rome’s climbdown avoids a row with Washington but leaves funding questions. The transport ministry insists state coffers will cover the bridge—a claim met with scepticism. Mr Salvini’s “dual use” rhetoric now shifts to touting subsidies coming from the European Union, though Brussels has shown little appetite.

A hollow victory?

For NATO, the episode underscores enforcement challenges. New monitoring tools—touted by Mr Whitaker as improvements on 2014’s lax oversight—face their first test. Allies’ creativity in meeting targets risks eroding alliance cohesion, already strained by Ukraine’s demands.

Europe needs to fix its economic engine, not just protect industries — Matthew Whitaker, US Ambassador to NATO

Ms Meloni’s bridge remains a political totem—a testament to her government’s resolve—but its viability hinges on financial wizardry. As Rome scrambles for cash and Washington tightens scrutiny, the project’s fate may hinge less on engineering than on geopolitical arithmetic. For now, it stands as a monument to ambition—and the perils of fiscal fantasy.