Behind the EU's "Critical Infrastructure Ban": A Belated Geopolitical Showdown?
19/01/2026
On January 20, 2025, a draft proposal from the European Union headquarters in Brussels pushed a long-brewing technological and security contest to a new critical point. According to a disclosure by the Financial Times, the European Commission has formally proposed that member states mandatorily and gradually remove Chinese equipment from critical infrastructure. This draft, named the "Cybersecurity Act," directly targets Chinese telecommunications giants such as Huawei and ZTE, and even extends its reach to solar energy systems and security scanning equipment. This is no longer a mild recommendation but an attempt to upgrade the previously scattered, voluntary mechanisms for excluding high-risk suppliers into a unified legal obligation covering all 27 member states.
On the surface, this appears to be a technical update to the EU's cybersecurity policy. However, analysis reveals that its underlying logic goes far beyond that. It signifies a painful attempt by the EU, under the banner of strategic autonomy, to decouple from its dependence on the two major tech giants, China and the United States. Moreover, it represents a complex geopolitical showdown intertwined with security anxieties, economic costs, and internal divisions.
From "Voluntary" to "Mandatory": A Paradigm Shift in EU Security Logic
For a long time, the European Union has adopted a toolbox model in dealing with so-called high-risk suppliers. In 2020, the EU released a 5G cybersecurity toolbox, recommending that member states restrict or exclude high-risk suppliers based on risk assessments. However, this toolbox lacks mandatory binding force, and its implementation effectiveness has been uneven, like a patchwork quilt.
The significant disparities in implementation among member states are the direct impetus driving this legislative upgrade. Some countries, such as the United Kingdom, Sweden, and the Baltic states, have long completely prohibited Huawei from participating in their 5G network construction. Germany, in 2024, passed a compromise yet clear plan requiring operators to remove Chinese components from their 5G core networks by the end of 2026. However, other countries have chosen different paths. A highly symbolic case occurred in the summer of 2023: the Spanish government signed a contract worth 12 million euros with Huawei, for the latter to provide hardware support for lawful interception by law enforcement and intelligence agencies. This inconsistency, as noted in the draft text, has proven insufficient to establish trust and coordination across the entire single market.
The concerns of EU officials are specific and contextual. What they cite are not vague accusations, but a series of alarming incidents. In 2018, an investigation by the French newspaper Le Monde revealed that the servers at the African Union headquarters in Ethiopia, built with Chinese assistance, secretly transmitted data to Shanghai every night for five years, and hidden microphones were even discovered in the building's walls and furniture. Although China firmly denied these claims, such reports have continued to circulate within European policymaking circles, shaping a perception of guilt by presumption. In 2024, the European Commission conducted surprise inspections at the European offices of Chinese security equipment manufacturer Nuctech and launched investigations into Chinese train and wind turbine manufacturers. These actions collectively formed the policy prelude to this comprehensive proposal.
From suggestion to legislation, from voluntary to mandatory, the European Union's security logic is undergoing a fundamental transformation. The core driving force lies in Brussels' belief that, on issues of digital sovereignty and infrastructure security, the loose alliance model where member states act independently has failed, necessitating a unified legislative framework to build a European line of defense.
The Cost of "De-risking": The Paradox Between Economic Realities and Strategic Autonomy
However, the firmness of legislative intent cannot eliminate the hardness of economic reality. The EU's de-risking strategy faces a nearly paradoxical dilemma in practice: how to reduce technological dependence on China without harming its own economic interests and green transition goals?
The solar energy industry is the most acute epitome of this dilemma. Industry data shows that over 90% of the solar panels currently installed in the EU are manufactured in China. Any attempt to rapidly and massively replace this equipment would directly impact the EU's own set renewable energy goals and carbon neutrality timeline. The cost would be astronomical, and shifting the supply chain is by no means an overnight task. The European Solar Industry Association has clearly expressed concerns, and it is rather ironic that Huawei is one of the members of this association.
Telecom operators represent another significant pressure group. Over the years, Huawei and ZTE have deeply participated in Europe's network construction from 3G to 4G and even 5G with their cost-effective equipment. Telecom operators warn that a direct ban would lead to a sharp increase in network upgrade and operational costs, which would inevitably be passed on to consumers. More critically, in certain niche areas, the market lacks mature, immediately available European or American suppliers as alternatives. This suggests that decoupling from China may not naturally lead to Europeanization but could instead strengthen dependence on another pole—American tech giants—which runs counter to the EU's original pursuit of strategic autonomy.
Therefore, a key flexibility was left in the draft: the specific timeline for phasing out Chinese equipment will depend on the assessment of supplier and specific industry risks, taking into account costs and the availability of alternatives. This seemingly pragmatic clause actually sows the seeds for significant future disputes. Who will lead the risk assessment? How will the standards be formulated? At what level of high cost can exemptions be granted? These ambiguous areas will become the focal point of prolonged tug-of-war among member states, industry lobbying groups, and the European Commission.
Internal Game and External Projection: An Unfinished War
The European Commission's proposal is merely the opening salvo of this battle. The legislative process ahead is fraught with uncertainties, and the complexity of internal maneuvering is no less significant than the strategic considerations from external forces.
The tension between national sovereignty and EU centralization is the first core contradiction. Under the EU legal framework, national security affairs essentially remain within the exclusive competence of member states. Brussels' attempts to intervene in this sensitive area under the guise of cybersecurity and single market coordination are bound to encounter resistance from some countries. Nations with deep cooperation with China in telecommunications or energy sectors, or those holding different geopolitical views, are likely to raise objections at the EU Council level, demanding longer transition periods, more exemption clauses, or even questioning the legal basis of the legislation.
Secondly, the conflict between industry interests and political security will become public. Critical infrastructure operators in sectors such as telecommunications and energy possess strong lobbying power, with their core demands being commercial certainty and cost control. When political directives threaten their balance sheets and network planning, intense lobbying activities are inevitable. Spain's contract with Huawei has already demonstrated that in certain member states, commercial logic can sometimes temporarily outweigh security narratives.
From a broader perspective, the European Union's move is not an isolated incident, but rather a European chapter in the global trend of technological supply chain fragmentation. In November 2022, the U.S. Federal Communications Commission (FCC) took the lead in banning the import and sale of telecommunications equipment from Huawei and ZTE, as well as surveillance systems from Hikvision and Dahua. To some extent, the EU's proposal is a response and coordination to pressures from across the Atlantic, aiming to bridge the policy gap between the two sides of the Atlantic regarding Chinese technology companies and demonstrate unity within the Western world.
However, this coordination also highlights the EU's passivity. It is not the original creator of the rules, but rather a follower and adapter. Its policies oscillate between reducing dependence on the United States and jointly de-risking with China, reflecting the difficulty the EU faces in finding its own position in digital geopolitics.
Forward Outlook: Towards a Fragmented Global Tech Ecosystem?
The EU's ban proposal, regardless of the final form in which it is passed, heralds the end of an era of certainty and the beginning of a more complex one.
For Chinese enterprises such as Huawei and ZTE, the door to the European market is gradually closing from being half-open. They need to accelerate the exploration of other emerging markets and double down on research and development to maintain technological competitiveness. However, the greater challenge lies in the fact that EU legislation may set a precedent, encouraging other regions to follow suit, further squeezing the global survival space for Chinese high-tech companies.
For Europe itself, the true test lies in whether it can transform exclusion into construction. Removing Chinese equipment is only the first step; more importantly, it is about cultivating a competitive local supply chain or establishing diversified, reliable alternative sources. This requires massive investment, long-term industrial policies, and the accumulation of technical talent—issues that cannot be resolved by a mere ban. Otherwise, Europe may find itself in an awkward predicament: losing the cost-performance advantages of Chinese equipment while failing to establish genuine strategic autonomy, thereby deepening its reliance on American technology.
From the perspective of the global technology ecosystem, a concerning trend is accelerating: the formation of technology circles based on geopolitical trust rather than purely on technical standards and market efficiency. The internet and communication technologies, once hailed as tools to connect the world, now see their underlying infrastructure potentially moving toward fragmentation. Different regions adopting core equipment from different sources may increase the cost and complexity of global interconnectivity, and could even sow the seeds of conflict in future cyberspace governance.
The Brussels proposal is a multifaceted prism. It reflects how national security is redefining economic cooperation in the post-globalization era; it mirrors Europe's struggles and growing pains in its pursuit of sovereignty; and it foreshadows the arrival of a more fragmented, more politicized digital world. In this game concerning critical infrastructure, there are no simple winners—only an enduring test of resilience, innovation, and strategic wisdom. The ultimate fate of the bill will not only determine the future architecture of Europe's telecommunications networks but will also profoundly shape the interplay between global technology and geopolitics over the next decade.