A Spanish F-18 fighter jet on a NATO air-policing mission Sunday shot down a drone that had illegally entered Romanian airspace.

The drone was detected by radar about 24 kilometers north of the eastern city of Galați after entering Romania from Moldova. Having established radar contact, the fighter jet was authorized to shoot it down at 5:01 a.m. Authorities said debris from the destroyed aircraft had fallen in an uninhabited area between two villages.

Martin O’Donnell, spokesperson for NATO operation headquarters, said additional details regarding Sunday’s incident remained under investigation but that the drone “appears to be Russian.”

“The Ministry of National Defence is constantly monitoring the situation and informs in real time the allied structures about such events,” the ministry added in a statement.

It is the fourth drone shot down by NATO over Romania since the beginning of 2026. In July, Romanian F-16s downed three Russian drones that breached the country’s airspace — the first such interceptions after dozens of incursions since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. In May, a Russian drone crashed into an apartment building in Galați, injuring two people.

Meanwhile, Russia and Ukraine traded strikes over the weekend. Russian forces launched missile and drone attacks on Kyiv early Sunday, sparking fires in at least two districts and injuring three people, according to the city’s military administration.

Ukrainian drones also struck the Moscow region overnight in what the regional governor Andrei Vorobyov described as one of the largest attacks to target the area, killing an 83-year-old man.

Hungary is sinking two barges to ensure a key nuclear power plant stays online, Prime Minister Péter Magyar said Saturday.

Europe’s summer of extreme heat has caused the Danube’s water level to hit record lows, affecting power production at the Paks nuclear plant. Nuclear power stations are typically built by rivers and along coastlines so they can use water to cool down reactors.

Hungarian authorities are sinking the two barges to raise water levels so Paks, which provides the country with more than a third of its electricity, can continue to operate normally. The sinking began Saturday morning and Hungarian media are quoting the prime minister saying the water level at the plant has risen by 1 centimeter.

Magyar said on X that the current water level near Hungary’s only nuclear energy facility is 122 cm lower than normal and it is projected to drop below 132 cm on Monday, which would force one of the plant’s two turbines to shut down.

On Wednesday, Magyar announced that they would be building a riverbed sill with 150,000 cubic meters of stone and was considering sinking the two 80-meter barges. A sill is an underwater dam meant to slow down the current and raise water levels. Hungary’s Defense Ministry has assigned 100 troops to work around the clock on the project, the prime minister said on X.

Nuclear energy facilities across Europe have been affected by this summer’s droughts and soaring temperatures. Romania shut down a nuclear power plant earlier this week due to the Danube’s water levels.

France — one of Europe’s biggest producers of nuclear power — has seen its fleet of nuclear power plants affected throughout the summer. Le Monde reported authorities had to shut down six of the country’s 57 nuclear reactors as yet another heat wave broiled much of the country. Earlier in the week, a climate change-fueled jellyfish invasion forced workers to bring parts of a different plant offline.

Magyar has also cast doubt on completing an expansion of the Paks plant by a Russian state-owned firm in a deal signed by Magyar’s predecessor, the Kremlin-friendly Viktor Orbàn, citing the water issue.

Artificial intelligence could transform the economy, the workplace, and even the way we think — but is Britain ready for it? And is Andy Burnham?

In the second of Sam Coates and Anne McElvoy’s summer box set conversations, they sit down with POLITICO UK tech editor Isobel Asher Hamilton to look at the choices facing the new prime minister this autumn.

Should Britain be building the next OpenAI, or focusing on using AI to revive manufacturing? Can the UK compete with the US and China? And where will the government land on the biggest political battles ahead, from copyright and data centres to the future of work?

Hundreds of thousands of Europeans dream of landing one of the European Commission’s coveted civil service jobs, with around 170,000 people applying for just 1,500 entry-level positions at the EU institutions earlier this year.

Yet for many who make it inside the EU executive, the reality falls well short of the dream.

POLITICO spoke to a dozen officials from different commissioners’ cabinets and Directorates-General, varying in age, nationality and seniority, who described an institution where long hours, cumbersome bureaucracy and, in some cases, toxic management have left them exhausted, alienated and questioning whether the money and prestige are worth it.

Their experiences varied widely across the Commission’s 30,000-strong workforce — but the same complaints surfaced again and again. Some were granted anonymity to speak frankly about their workplace experiences.

“The conditions are more and more difficult,” said Nicolas Mavraganis, president of Union Syndicale Fédérale, an umbrella group linking roughly 20 staff unions across EU and international bodies. A Commission official since 1994, he has led the federation since 2019 and helps steer its representation of member unions in dealings with the institutions. “There is more and more workload, which means more and more pressure.”

As Brussels has taken on a more central geopolitical role — responding to Russia’s war against Ukraine, navigating tensions with China and managing an increasingly unpredictable United States — officials said there is a growing sense that every file matters.

Few of the complaints POLITICO heard — ranging from stressful projects and difficult bosses to endless bureaucracy and aging offices — are unique to the Commission, and similar stories can be found in ministries, law firms and consultancies across Europe. But officials said the combination of prestige, political pressure and the sheer scale of the institution makes the experience distinctive — and often difficult.

“It’s the EU’s executive so people have this weird God complex,” one official said.

A Commission spokesperson said the institution was “committed to being a modern, respectful and attractive place to work,” pointing to a review launched by President Ursula von der Leyen into the Commission’s operations. An internal survey found 74 percent of staff rated the Commission an attractive employer, up six percentage points from 2023.

Comparable public data is scarce. A 2025 staff survey at the European Central Bank found that 85 percent of employees were proud to work there, even as fewer than half considered their workload manageable. The figures point to a broader paradox: loyalty to an institution can remain strong even when day-to-day working conditions frustrate its staff. At the Commission, that gap helps explain why disillusionment does not necessarily lead people to leave.

Pressure cooker

Openings at the Commission, where employees shape policies affecting more than 450 million Europeans, remain some of the most sought-after public sector jobs. Brussels also remains relatively affordable compared to many Western European capitals, especially on a Commission salary.

The financial incentives are considerable too. Successful candidates for AD-5 jobs — the graduate-entry administrator role — earn roughly €6,000 to €7,000 a month before allowances, while Commission officials pay EU tax rather than national income tax, generally resulting in a lighter tax burden and more take-home pay. Family allowances, diplomatic discounts on cars and strong job security only add to the appeal. Some officials POLITICO spoke to even rent an apartment in Brussels while keeping their families in another country, flying home most weekends.

But several officials said the prestige of working at the Commission also creates its own pressures.

That atmosphere, officials said, filters down into daily life. Every briefing note, policy paper or press release attracts multiple layers of approval. Decisions move through sprawling email chains and successive rounds of revisions, while officials feel pressure to treat even routine work with the urgency of a geopolitical crisis.

One official in a commissioner’s cabinet said their days often begin at 7 a.m. or 8 a.m. and end around 7 p.m., with little time away from the office except to accompany their commissioner on missions. Another, working in communications, recalled crying late into the evening because of an overwhelming workload.

Several officials blamed the bureaucracy itself. Cabinet teams and the Commission’s policy departments, known as Directorates-General, often struggle to communicate effectively, leaving staff chasing approvals and information from one another.

“The DGs are waiting for scraps of information from the cabinets, who are so overworked that they don’t have the capacity to provide them that information,” another official working for a commissioner said. “It’s a structural problem. Everyone is trying to get information out of each other.”

Another official agreed. “I want to shoot myself sometimes.”

The institution’s sheer size can also leave people feeling anonymous. “There are thousands of people at the Commission, so even if you work there for 20 years, most people have never seen you,” a different official not working for a commissioner said. “You’re just this tiny little molecule in this huge organism.”

Mixed bag

Whether someone enjoys working at the Commission often comes down to luck.

First, there’s the boss.

Officials stressed that experiences can differ dramatically depending on which commissioner you work for. Climate Commissioner Wopke Hoekstra’s cabinet is widely regarded internally as supportive, several officials said, while other commissioners have reputations internally for allowing toxic working cultures to develop, with infighting and power grabs.

One senior official in a commissioner’s cabinet has become notorious inside the Berlaymont for “screaming” at staff, according to two officials. An employee at DG ECHO, which coordinates the EU’s humanitarian program, said shouting was routine in their unit.

Another former official recalled watching a senior colleague berated over a leaked document in front of other managers. One official said their boss punched them during an argument after work in a bar near the Berlaymont.

Several said they felt they had little confidence complaints would be acted upon.

The Commission hired a chief confidential counsellor in 2024 to handle harassment complaints and has a team of 40 counsellors across the Commission and executive agencies as part of an “informal” approach to resolving workplace conflict, an official said.

Since September 2024, the chief counsellor, who reports to Budget Commissioner Piotr Serafin, has received 960 reports from “colleagues feeling harassed, alleged harassers, witnesses, managers and HR Correspondents,” according to a Commission spokesperson.

The Commission said 14,000 staff have attended presentations on anti-harassment policy while 2,400 managers have attended mandatory training sessions in the last two years. This increased awareness about how to seek support in dealing with harassment has “generated a relatively high number” of reports to the chief confidential counsellor, the spokesperson said.

The chief counsellor, however, “has no mandate to investigate and is not entitled legally to qualify the conduct as harassment as defined in the Staff Regulations,” the spokesperson explained. To make a formal complaint, staff have to go to the Investigation and Disciplinary Office (IDOC) or to the European Anti-Fraud Office (OLAF). The Commission receives around 20 to 25 of those per year, a spokesperson said.

Aging offices

Then there’s the building.

While the Berlaymont has benefited from extensive renovation, other Commission offices are showing their age. During June’s heatwave, staff at the DG AGRI building complained they were working without adequate air conditioning, according to internal communications seen by POLITICO.

At DG COMP’s headquarters in Madou Tower, meanwhile, officials were advised not to drink from certain water fountains because of possible contamination, while heating and sanitation systems were “not functioning to the level we should expect,” the acting director-general acknowledged in an email seen by POLITICO.

At the Berlaymont, staff on lower levels were left fuming after air conditioning was switched off in the middle of a heat wave but kept on for floors eight and above, which house commissioners and senior officials. An official told POLITICO at the time it was reminiscent of feudalism.

Experiences varied sharply across the institution, but many officials described the same tension: they remained drawn to the substance of their roles, even as their working conditions proved more frustrating and draining than expected.

Over cold pasta in a Commission cafeteria, one official was asked whether they were happy.

They shrugged. “It’s interesting work.”

For many inside the Commission, that is reason enough to stay.

If you have experienced harassment in the EU institutions, please WhatsApp us on +32 491 050629

At this month’s NATO summit in Ankara, allies announced billions of dollars in new arms deals and reaffirmed their commitment to spend more on defense. European governments have made the pledge, and the money is real: European defense spending has doubled since 2019, and by 2030, European NATO member countries are projected to spend in excess of €800 billion a year, up €300 billion from 2025, with equipment spending alone nearly doubling.

But committing money is the easy part. The harder question is whether Europe’s defense industry can turn it into equipment fast enough to matter. Europe’s largest defense manufacturers’ order books now average more than five years for production, and some are closer to nine. Money is flowing in faster than industry can turn it into equipment. But a purchase order is not equipment that can be deployed on the ground and the air.

European countries have long duplicated capabilities rather than pooling them.

The bottleneck sits in the defense industrial system. Deterrence relies on the chain from funding to contracts, then through production, deployment into services, then rapid innovation in the field. Europe’s next goal comes after the spending promise. The continent fields six times as many weapons platforms as the United States, because countries have long duplicated capabilities rather than pooling them. Production ends up split across many small runs that never reach an efficient scale. Ukraine, under pressure, has shown how fast a defense system can move, adapting tactics in weeks and building drone detection networks from consumer electronics. Europe needs to catch up and then accelerate.

Four moves would help Europe accelerate.

The first is multi-speed procurement. Software-led systems such as drones and targeting improve in rapid cycles throughout their deployment and need procurement that can keep up. Israel’s Iron Dome started out as far less capable than it is today and improved continuously in service. European defense ministries have already set up high-speed procurement units with dedicated teams and greater risk tolerance. These need to become mainstream, rather than the exception.

Collaboration in procurement, maintenance and training brings costs down and delivery forward.

The second is military collaboration to reduce fragmentation. Collaboration in procurement, maintenance and training brings costs down and delivery forward. The Tempest project, where the U.K., Italy and Japan are jointly building a next-generation fighter, demonstrates the model: shared development costs that no single country could carry alone. Recent bilateral maritime agreements, and Romania’s use of EU funding to buy European while expanding production at home, show the same logic spreading.

The third is industrial consolidation, which is already underway and needs to move faster. Companies are driving it themselves. Airbus, Leonardo and Thales have agreed to merge their space divisions into a single joint venture with roughly €6.5 billion in revenue and 25,000 employees, and European defense mergers and acquisitions rose 35 percent year over year in the first half of 2025. McKinsey analysis finds that consolidation across key supply chain segments could unlock around €9 billion in annual synergies, more than the current equipment budgets of 24 of Europe’s 30 NATO members. The deepest opportunity sits below the big primes, among the thousands of tier two, three and four suppliers that still duplicate one another’s work. Europe can speed this up by harmonizing requirements, reducing national carve-outs and letting industry do the combining. Consolidation is only half the task. Europe also needs to build sheer capacity — more shipyards, more assembly lines, more of the physical plants that turn orders into hardware — and the capital to fund it. In several categories, Europe simply lacks enough places to build.

Real deterrence means difficult choices, and a public that understands the importance and the cost of security.

The fourth is regulatory unlocking. Full scale-up demands skilled workers retrained, accredited and security cleared from other industries; production sites with preapproved permitting; and alignment of export controls across European allies. These regulatory unlocks now need the same energy and focus as the funding commitment debate. 

Real deterrence means difficult choices, and a public that understands the importance and the cost of security. That conversation is only beginning in much of Europe. It must include the potential for “gray zone” cyber strikes on hospitals, arson at industrial sites, drones disrupting ports, undersea data cables cut — these have all occurred, but many citizens do not yet recognize this as having malicious intent.

The opportunity in getting it right is significant. McKinsey and GLOBSEC estimates indicate that every euro of spending on European-manufactured equipment generates two euros of revenue across the European supply chain, and an additional €165 billion a year in equipment spending could create up to 1.2 million jobs. The coming years will reveal how effectively Europe is able to scale up to protect its territory and citizens, and how much of the promised investment becomes lasting deterrence and European jobs. Getting there depends on the whole ecosystem — governments, industry and investors — moving together. Increased spending is important. Spending it effectively matters more.

Jonathan Dimson is a senior partner in McKinsey’s London office. Mikael Robertson is a senior partner in the Stockholm office.

LONDON — Since becoming Britain’s prime minister, Andy Burnham — the Greater Manchester mayor for nine years — has leapt at any chance to promote his old stomping ground.

POLITICO highlights six times Burnham awkwardly shoe-horned the city into his premiership. 

1) No. 10 North 

Downing Street too London-centric? Just make a Manchester one.

Manchester’s Heron House building is the site of a new No.10 North, dubbed the “situation room for growth” by the PM. Burnham has vowed to work from the building regularly, alongside other Cabinet ministers. 

When its inaugural meeting took place with regional mayors, the PM (who is married and has three kids, remember) said this might be the “best day of my life.” In a sign that Burnham’s living his best life, there’s even a gold “The Queen Is Dead” disk on the wall from Manchester indie legends The Smiths.

“It’s definitely gone down well here,” says University of Manchester academic Robert Ford of Burnham’s regular references to the city.

“It’s a clever bit of messaging, because it signals to people up here, where he remains very popular, that he hasn’t forgotten about the city that he’s just departed from, and is continuing to place it at the heart of everything.”

2) Inviting Trump to Manchester

From Buckingham Palace to … the Salford Lads’ Club?

During his first call with Donald Trump — a pivotal diplomatic moment — Andy Burnham offered the U.S. president an invite to Manchester. 

The U.K. is hosting the G20 next year, and it’s widely expected to take place in the city. Any excuse…  

3) Oman-chester

Looking to build some rapport with a world leader? Try the local angle.

A summary of Burnham’s first call with Sultan of Oman Haitham bin Tariq Al Said shows that the PM talked about the country’s Al Batinah North Growth Hub — “inspired by the Manchester Growth Hub that the prime minister set up in his former role as mayor of Greater Manchester.”

That’s two Manchesters in one sentence.

4) Boosting Mancunian bands

It’s not just the gold disk on the wall of No. 10 North.

Burnham’s put his love of Manchester’s musical history front and center.

He dad-danced to New Order’s “True Faith” on becoming Labour leader, and used a TikTok blind ranking of five bands which included … four from Manchester.

And, of course, his official Spotify playlist during the Makerfield by-election was flooded with songs by Mancunian artists.

5) ‘Manchester of India.’

Improving diplomatic ties cuts both ways as world leaders try to get in Burnham’s good books by referencing his favorite city.

During a call with Indian PM Narendra Modi, Burnham praised the contributions of Indian communities to the U.K., while Modi noted the links between the two leaders’ home cities of Manchester and Ahmedabad, in Gujarat, respectively. The Indian leader called it the “Manchester of India.”

No. 10 put it in their readout of the call — obvs.

6) Chatting Manchester slang

Burnham’s TikTok game includes educating the entire U.K. on the finer points of Greater Manchester dialect.

In a weekend post promoting his devolution agenda, the prime minister declared he couldn’t be convinced a bread roll is called anything but a “barm” — the north-west slang for a bap.

Burnham was trying to make the point that what works in one place doesn’t succeed in another — with the help of the Mancunian metaphor.