In an age that should be defined by open markets and interconnected economies, Europe’s aviation policy is taking a detour into isolationism. Instead of leaning into the spirit of globalisation, the EU is reverting to a protectionist stance by erecting regulatory walls and restricting competition, particularly from carriers in the Gulf region such as Emirates, Qatar Airways and Etihad Airways.
These policies are not only outdated, but self-defeating. The argument that they are necessary to protect national champions and preserve jobs might sound patriotic, but the evidence tells a different story – Europe is weakening its aviation sector by insulating it from global competition.
At the heart of the issue are bilateral air service agreements that reflect market dynamics of the past rather than the present. Between Germany and the UAE, for instance, only 56 weekly flights are permitted – a number frozen in time for nearly 15 years even as passenger volumes between the EU and the Gulf have more than doubled. This is not an isolated case; other Gulf carriers have faced hurdles in securing landing rights in some European cities despite growing demand for direct flights to those destinations. The stagnation of these agreements illustrates how EU policy lags behind market realities, shackling growth to the inertia of past political calculations.
But the problems go deeper than outdated treaties. There are growing signs of political interference in aviation regulation, often motivated by a desire to protect domestic carriers at the expense of healthy competition. Emirates’ proposed expansion to Berlin-Brandenburg Airport was blocked not for technical or capacity reasons, but seemingly purely because of competition concerns. And in Amsterdam, the Dutch government’s cap on flights at Schiphol – that it says is an environmental measure – has disproportionately hurt non-EU carriers. These actions, although veiled in regulatory language, amount to a form of covert protectionism.
Even when traffic rights are technically granted, meaningful access is often denied. The slot allocation process at major European hubs is notoriously inflexible. Historical incumbents, mostly legacy national carriers, dominate peak-time slots at airports like Frankfurt, Charles de Gaulle, Heathrow and Schiphol. New entrants, including some of the most dynamic and innovative airlines in the world, are left fighting for crumbs. This limited access results in fewer options for passengers, higher prices and less incentive for airlines to improve their services. The ultimate loser in this equation is the European consumer.
The broader economic consequences of these policies are considerable. Aviation is not just about getting people from point A to point B – it’s a critical driver of tourism, trade and regional development. According to the World Travel and Tourism Council, each long-haul tourist from the Middle East spends around €2,400 ($2,727) on each trip in the EU. If Gulf carriers were permitted just 10 more weekly flights into Europe, the resulting increase in visitors could generate more than €3 billion in direct tourism revenue annually. The EU’s export economy also depends heavily on airfreight, much of it carried by non-European airlines. Limiting these carriers risks constraining trade in high-value sectors like pharmaceuticals, electronics and luxury goods.
Hub airports are another casualty of this inward-looking strategy. Once-thriving European gateways such as Frankfurt and Paris are stagnating. In 2023, Frankfurt passenger numbers grew by a modest 6 per cent, while airports in Istanbul and Doha surged ahead with growth rates of 23 per cent and 19 per cent, respectively. These global hubs are not only attracting passengers, they are becoming centres of gravity for aviation-related industries such as aircraft maintenance, cargo logistics and training academies. Dubai International Airport, which operates under far fewer regulatory constraints, now supports more than 745,000 jobs, illustrating the kind of economic ecosystem that open aviation policies can nurture.
Ironically, the very premise that European airlines need shielding from foreign competition is increasingly questionable. Many of these so-called national champions are no longer truly national. Lufthansa, for example, is more than 18 per cent owned by foreign investors. Air France-KLM has deep partnerships with non-European carriers, including Delta, China Eastern and even Saudia. At the same time, some European airlines lobby Brussels to limit access for the Gulf carriers they court in the private sector. This contradiction exposes the hollow nature of the “protect our own” narrative.
More critically, the biggest threats facing traditional European carriers are internal. Many struggle with legacy cost structures, outdated IT systems and sluggish decision-making. Protectionism only delays the reckoning. Competition from agile, lower-cost entrants like Wizz Air and Norwegian has done more to push European incumbents towards reform than any regulatory buffer ever could. Shielding these airlines from competition is like treating a fever by smashing the thermometer; it avoids the immediate discomfort but does nothing to cure the illness.
Meanwhile, other regions have demonstrated that openness can be a strategic asset. Singapore, for example, has pursued an air-connectivity policy that grants traffic rights based on economic logic rather than nationalist sentiment. The country has no domestic market to fall back on, yet Changi Airport connects to more than 150 international destinations and supports an aviation sector that contributes more than 5 per cent of the country’s gross domestic product. In the UAE, carriers like Emirates, flydubai, Etihad and Air Arabia compete freely in one of the world’s most dynamic markets. Dubai’s second airport, Al Maktoum International, is projected to surpass the entire combined capacity of Germany’s airports by 2030. None of this was achieved through protectionism; it was earned through vision, investment and open competition.
Europe stands at a crossroads. It can continue down a path of regulatory sclerosis, where fear of foreign competition dictates policy and stifles innovation. Or it can embrace the spirit of open skies – modernising its air service agreements, reforming slot allocation and treating aviation not as a politically sensitive relic of national prestige, but as a strategic pillar of its economic future. Support for European airlines should be based on performance, not nationality. Investment in sustainable aviation fuel, digitalisation and fleet renewal is vital but it must be coupled with bold moves to open markets, not close them.
In a world that is moving faster than ever, Europe cannot afford to be caught waiting behind closed gates. The future of aviation will be shaped by those who look outward, not inward. What the EU needs now is less fear, more ambition – and a flight path grounded in global opportunity rather than domestic nostalgia.
