Tag Archive for: Europe

Germany takes the middle way on Huawei—for now

For months, European governments have been debating whether to allow Chinese tech giant Huawei to participate in building their 5G mobile networks. Caught between their two largest trading partners, the United States and China, EU members are facing a dilemma. Should they ban the company’s technology on national security grounds in line with the United States, Australia and Japan? Or should they embrace Huawei’s products to enable the swift and cost-efficient rollout of the urgently needed next-generation cellular network?

Germany, Europe’s largest economy, has now decided to adopt a middle way. In a set of draft requirements for telecommunications security published last week, Berlin refrained from an outright ban of Huawei from its 5G mobile network. The ‘non-ban’ has already provoked a response: last Friday, the US ambassador to Germany reportedly warned the German government that the Trump administration would limit intelligence sharing with Berlin if Huawei were allowed to build Germany’s 5G infrastructure.

While an explicit ban is off the table, the new guidelines may leave room for indirectly excluding the Chinese company in the future. They stipulate that network operators must implement a number of risk management measures, among them, to ensure diversity of network equipment from different manufacturers—a measure that will greatly contribute to the network’s resiliency, independently of the supplier.

The rules stipulate that network operators may only utilise critical core components which have been tested by a recognised authority and certified by the German Federal Office for Information Security (BSI). Which core components will be deemed critical remains to be determined by the BSI and the Federal Network Agency.

Moreover, critical components may only be sourced from suppliers or manufacturers that have given appropriate assurances of their trustworthiness and which abide by national security regulations, including regulations on telecommunications secrecy and data protection. ‘Trustworthiness’ remains to be defined. It may well be that a foreign company subject to domestic laws that can compel it to support, assist and cooperate with intelligence gathering by the state in which it is domiciled will not be deemed trustworthy.

Crucially, the burden of proving that these security objectives have been achieved lies with network operators like Deutsche Telekom and Vodafone. They need to demonstrate that, for example, the suppliers and manufacturers of their equipment are trustworthy—which, with respect to Huawei, will be a challenge and may lead to a refusal to use their equipment.

Until the publication and implementation of the final criteria later this year, we can expect the debate over Huawei to continue in Germany and the rest of Europe—and with it, arguments for and against excluding the Chinese company from 5G rollouts.

One argument against excluding Huawei from equipping Germany’s 5G network is that it could delay the network rollout by up to two years, causing Germany to miss a crucial stepping stone to the next era of industrialisation and leaving it lagging behind other digital economies.

As yet, there’s been no public evidence that the Chinese government might be using Huawei products to spy on other nations. The US National Security Agency, on the other hand, has been shown to have manipulated certain types of Cisco network equipment exported to the world in the past.

While the US may have legitimate security concerns in seeking to persuade its European allies to ban Huawei, its campaign is partly economically motivated. Washington aims to prevent China from gaining a competitive edge over the US economy. Beijing, on the other hand, is the EU’s second largest and Germany’s largest trade partner. Discriminating against one of China’s biggest tech giants could generate diplomatic tensions.

While many of these concerns are valid, they lack a long-term perspective on the issue and an understanding of the wider geopolitical context.

Precisely because 5G infrastructure will shape the next-generation internet and propel a new era of industrialisation, it needs to be treated as critical infrastructure. Exploiting vulnerabilities in its architecture could give an attacker the ability to affect network integrity and availability, as well as the confidentiality of customer data.

Relying on a Chinese company for the technology’s rollout would result in long-term dependencies. China’s aspirations for technological supremacy, its pervasive industrial espionage campaigns and its tight control of domestic companies would, taken together, make this a risky decision at best.

The absence of a ‘smoking gun’ in the espionage allegations against Huawei doesn’t eliminate the future risk of such practices. As ASPI’s Danielle Cave has demonstrated in The Strategist, there is indeed worrying public evidence that links Huawei to a five-year data breach at the African Union headquarters that, so far, the company has been unable to explain.

From an industrial policy point of view, rather than becoming dependent on a monopolistic foreign tech giant, Europe should promote its own industry and strengthen the diverse suppliers, including Europe’s Ericsson and Nokia, that also offer 5G equipment.

While a ban might risk Chinese retaliation, China’s record in Germany and across Europe isn’t exemplary either. Beijing has led aggressive cyber espionage campaigns and has made targeted purchases of critical European infrastructure, such as German robot manufacturer Kuka. A German–Chinese no-spying agreement hasn’t materialised and at this stage of the Huawei debate, it would probably amount to window dressing rather than a genuine political accord.

The path taken by Germany in refraining from an open ban but keeping the door open for an indirect one can be seen as a diplomatic compromise agreed to in anticipation of the start of the 5G spectrum auction on 19 March.

The Huawei issue clearly illustrates the need for Germany, and Europe as a whole, to devise a comprehensive strategy for navigating an era marked by competition for technological supremacy, currently dominated by the US and China.

Europe seems to be in ad hoc reaction mode, and that approach has worked so far. But other strategic challenges are looming on the horizon in areas such as artificial intelligence, quantum computing and biotechnology. Decisions taken in these spheres will have consequences for decades ahead. And security will remain a cross-cutting challenge that the German government can’t ignore.

The EU needs to make informed, strategic decisions now that will shape the kind of global actor it wants to be in the future. Europe will not become a self-reliant technological superpower; in our globalised world, no one can.

But it can find a better way to manage risks, as well as its dependencies from and alliances with foreign powers, under a values- and rules-based institutional framework. And it should promote a competitive economic environment in which its own IT industry—startups, hidden champions and established companies—can continue to thrive.

France’s burning hate

Emmanuel Macron’s unexpected victory in the 2017 French presidential election, with 66% of the vote, made France seem, at least to some, a safe haven from the populism roiling European politics. His triumph came as a relief to a large majority of the French, as well as to other governments in the European Union and around the world.

But Macron’s victory incited a form of near-hysterical derangement among his opponents on the extreme right and left. The increasingly violent, racist and anti-Semitic ‘Yellow Vest’ protests are the visible manifestation of that rage.

True, some of the blame for this lies with Macron, and with the technocratic tin ear of some of his team. In particular, the sharp increase in taxes on fuel announced in November 2018—a move intended to advance the president’s climate agenda while helping, at the margins, to balance the budget—disproportionately hit rural and suburban voters, who were already feeling squeezed economically. This triggered the Yellow Vest rebellion.

But as the protests have shrunk in size and intensified in violence, Macron and what he represents have become the focus of the extremists’ hate. For starters, Macron stands out nowadays for his commitment to revitalising Europe. He rejects the emerging consensus that mainstream politicians can defeat populism only by downplaying their support for the EU. Instead, Macron relentlessly asserts his belief in a strong, democratic and prosperous Europe that is capable of acting with authority in the world.

Moreover, Macron has so far pressed ahead, despite the protests, with the reforms he promised during his campaign. Laws to increase labour-market flexibility, ensure ethical behaviour by elected officials and civil servants, and modernise the country’s obsolete university entrance system were adopted in less than a year. But Macron underestimated the difficulty of reducing France’s budget deficit and public debt to comply with eurozone rules, contributing to his decision to raise fuel taxes last November.

Today, Macron’s opponents from across the political spectrum portray themselves as part of some spontaneous popular movement. But the truth is that many of the politicians Macron defeated in his victorious campaign are now out to undermine him. To the astonishment of many, former president François Hollande, whom Macron once served, now openly encourages the Yellow Vests to harden their protests. Laurent Wauquiez, leader of the center-right Republicans, has actually put on a yellow vest. Meanwhile, far-right leader Marine Le Pen and far-left leader Jean-Luc Mélenchon both sense revolutionary possibilities in the protestors’ rage.

The Yellow Vests may seem to resemble other populist forces in Europe, in particular Italy’s Five Star Movement. But the French protesters are extremely violent in both word and deed. Macron and his wife are threatened with death almost daily. This is reminiscent of the vicious attacks against Léon Blum, France’s Socialist prime minister in the mid-1930s, who was later sent to Buchenwald by Marshal Philippe Pétain’s collaborationist World War II government.

Charles Maurras, a prominent Catholic essayist and journalist of the interwar years who became a member of the prestigious French Academy, called Blum ‘a monster’ and ‘a man who deserves to be shot, but in the back’. Today, the far-left deputy François Ruffin vents his hatred of Macron in similar terms. Not since the 1930s has France experienced such hysteria against a political leader in office.

Violent words go hand in hand with violent deeds. Stores have been smashed and looted. Public buildings, parliamentarians’ offices and even the private property of the president of the National Assembly have been destroyed by fire. Deputies have been threatened (including with a gun), newspaper headquarters have been ransacked, and more than 1,500 police officers have been injured.

How did France get to this point? It’s no secret that Kremlin-funded television channels RT and Sputnik—followed by social networks and other TV stations—have provided platforms that encourage the incitement of rage, anti-parliamentarism, lies, disinformation, racism and anti-Semitism. France seems to be living daily through the ‘Two Minutes Hate’ of George Orwell’s 1984.

The material and moral damage to the country is considerable. But there will not be a civil war. A clear and broad majority of the French are exasperated and shocked by rising violence and intolerance. The CFDT, the country’s most important labor union, has taken a stand against ‘all forms of violence’. Laurent Berger, its leader, has argued that, ‘If a trade union organisation had been responsible for as much violence in a movement that it triggered, it would be banned for at least 20 years.’ And Macron himself is gaining renewed legitimacy for facing down the crisis with self-control and sticking to his reform agenda.

But the Yellow Vest movement is far from over, and the clock can’t be turned back. First and foremost, the authorities must punish the perpetrators of violence and vandalism severely, beginning by requiring them to compensate victims, and eliminate all forms of impunity. Ideologically motivated assault and destruction must be treated like any other violent crime. Anything less would encourage those who would embrace violence in pursuit of their aims.

Second, fake news and abuse of social media, which are endangering social cohesion and democracy itself, must be confronted head-on. Macron’s great ‘national debate’ via local meetings and the internet is providing a useful counterweight. He continues to assert himself as a truly outstanding debater. But this unique experiment will end on 15 March. For the sake of French and European democracy, one hopes it will give a new impetus to the much-needed reforms that France has been awaiting for decades.

Is the world entering a new cold war or a hot peace?

As alcohol is an operational fluid of defence and diplomacy, it’s natural that this Wednesday’s debate on new cold war versus hot peace is a champagne challenge (the winner buys the champagne).

At the Canberra HQ of the Australian Institute of International Affairs, I’ll make the case for hot peace, while the former Oz diplomat Tony Kevin will argue that we’re in a new cold war. Come along and cast your vote.

According to Kevin, this new conflict on an old pattern involves three major Western strategies aggressively in play against Russia and China: overt and covert information warfare, provocative military strategies, and attempted exclusion from international economic mechanisms.

He argues: ‘This new cold war lacks the ideological confrontation and autarkic strategies of the US–Soviet cold war—both sides belong to and aspire to play leading roles in the one global order and multilateral trading system—but it is a real cold war nevertheless, with the US and its NATO allies trying to effect regime change on Russia and its partners. With Russia’s newfound strength and confidence, this is unlikely.’

My response is we shouldn’t revive a dangerous label that doesn’t fit today’s facts: Why don the old binary bifocals of a bipolar bloc confrontation?

What we have now is an era of intense contact in which competition and cooperation are simultaneous. Many different players. Many different games. The hot peace will be defined by complex compromises as much as by contest—warm work, not frigid standoff.

Tony is dashing back from a visit to Russia for the debate. To reduce his sleep-debt handicap, here’s the case I’ll make.

No ideological content. The cold war was a contest of ideas and values: communism fighting capitalism, Marxism versus democracy. Not now. There’s a weird ideological vacuum shared by Donald Trump, Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin: power is all. Xi nods to the party’s communist heritage but the sole cause is to hold power. Trump nods to the Republican Party’s heritage but the sole cause is to hold power. Putin nods … etc.

Economics and trade. The Soviet Union wanted to overthrow the economic system championed by the US. Comecon versus capitalism. Bloc against bloc. Economic sphere facing economic sphere. Not this time. Everyone wants to win at the same game, not change the rules. China embraces what America has created; now Beijing aims to own it. The US–China trade war is a monumental dogfight about hierarchy, riches and power. Eventually, Trump will cut a deal and declare victory—because the central reality of the US–China economic relationship is interdependence.

The status quo rules. China wants to match the reigning superpower. Match, not fight. Far from being a revisionist power, China is a status-quo-tidal power—loving the status quo and loving the way it’s shifting towards Beijing. A fine example of how this status-quo-tidal shift works is that China has quickly stepped up to become ‘the pillar of UN peacekeeping’.

Competition and cooperation, not containment. What China and the US are fighting about is what they share and what they both want to dominate. The competition will be defined by its connections and closeness. Two superpowers seeking to be number one. Both want to sit atop the system, not overthrow the system.

The past as prologue. The cold war followed the most destructive war in human history. War set the context of the era, as decolonisation merged with the superpower struggle. Today’s prologue is the long international peace—more than 70 years for Europe, more than 40 years for Asia. The long peace is getting a pressure test and the contest is warming, but it’s going to take a lot more poor strategy and economic stupidity before we need to reach for the war metaphor.

The US isn’t up for a cold war. On any given day, Trump agrees with about half the declared policies of his administration (I exaggerate, but not much). He wants trade wins not protracted strategic struggle. Can you imagine The Donald signing up to an activist policy that’ll be measured in decades? America is in no mood to ‘bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe’. One of the few things Trump shares with Barack Obama is the desire to step back from foreign entanglements and responsibilities—the traditional Washington policies that Obama dismissed as ‘the blob’. Obama’s wariness and Trump’s nihilism speak of an America with little appetite for a great new international campaign.

Neither Europe nor Russia is up for a global contest. Led by Germany and a reasonably resolute France, Europe will balance off against a Putin whose heritage is more Mother Russia and the Tsars than Lenin. Berlin and Paris have a lot of historical experience to draw on. Pity Britain has taken leave of its geopolitical and geoeconomic senses.

Not blocs, but strategic free-for-all. We face more cacophony than concert of powers. The new era is multipolar. Diverse powers and diverse competitions. Constantly shifting interests will mean shifting coalitions rather than firm alignments. The hot peace will have many elements of cooperation mingled with the competition.

Tune in for the next column to see how the corks popped.

Bracing for a rocky 2019 in Europe

With the year coming to an end and things winding down for the summer break in Australia, it’s worth looking ahead and mentally preparing for a big year. Here’s my take on the events that will define 2019 in Europe and where the next strategic challenges may arise.

The early months of 2019 will be dominated by Brexit. The UK is scheduled to leave the European Union at 11 pm GMT on 29 March 2019. The past few weeks have been dominated by emotional debates on the agreement’s Irish ‘backstop’ in the House of Commons, in the EU’s institutions and across European capitals.

Amid the drama, one thing is certain: if Prime Minister Theresa May can’t get the Brexit agreement through parliament come the new year, the chances of a coordinated Brexit will dwindle. Brussels has said that while it may accept clarifications of the deal, it will not renegotiate the agreement. The UK is now busy preparing for a ‘no-deal’ scenario, which would see it say goodbye without any arrangements for future trading or general relations with the EU in place.

The next steps remain unclear. More and more Brits are calling for a second referendum, or ‘people’s vote’. If that were to happen, the question would more likely be about the negotiated deal than about ‘leave’ versus ‘remain’. The European Court of Justice ruled that Article 50 (invoked by a member state that wishes to leave the EU) can be revoked, which would mean no Brexit at all. While that would be a win for the European family, it would be a blow to British democracy and a waste of the millions of pounds and euros spent over the past two years trying to figure out how to implement Brexit. Uncertainty is rising and the EU, the UK and especially EU citizens living in Britain are running out of time.

Shortly after the Brexit divorce date in March, the EU will face a further challenge: the next European Parliament elections are scheduled for 23–26 May. The last couple of years have seen an increase in support for nationalist and far-right movements and political parties during national elections across Europe, and a large number of their members have entered local, regional and national parliaments. If this trend continues across Europe level, it could have a significant impact on the composition of the European Parliament.

Although many undervalue the parliament’s influence, its members do have a significant say and have the power to shape European politics for the next five years. The next long-term EU budget—for 2021–2027—is set to be adopted by the end of next year and requires parliamentary approval. Dominance of Eurosceptic and right-wing values could be fatal for the EU’s legislative and budgetary agendas, particularly when common challenges such as migration continue to demand joint approaches.

More than 20 European nations will head to the polls in 2019 for local and national elections. The significance of these elections in shaping the continent’s future shouldn’t be underestimated, especially at a time when trust and support for democracy and liberal institutions is suffering.

A region to keep a close eye on in that regard is central Eastern Europe. Not only has illiberalism been on the rise in Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia and Hungary, but all four face elections in the next couple of years. (On that note, this publication by the German Marshall Fund of the United States and Visegrad Insight discusses five scenarios for the region’s future.) The EU has taken legal steps and may institute sanctions against both Poland and Hungary following their governments’ attacks on their judiciaries and the rule of law. However, the Polish government just took steps towards a truce with Brussels by revoking prior changes to the court legislation.

Also worth watching will be the parliamentary elections in Estonia, as the country has a significant Russian minority and has been subject to Kremlin-driven cyber operations and interference before.

In Ukraine, we’re likely to continue to see conflict and potentially further escalation of the war there, which is set to enter its fifth year. It remains to be seen if the Kremlin will continue the behaviour it demonstrated in the Black Sea in November, when the Russian navy shot at and seized Ukrainian naval vessels and arrested their crews in the Kerch Strait. The Ukrainian presidential and parliamentary elections are scheduled for March and the results will show how Ukrainians feel more than five years after the Maidan protests in Kyiv, and who they choose will set the country on its future path.

It’s unlikely that the Russian government would opt for an open invasion and full-scale war in Ukraine with the full involvement of Russian forces, simply because it couldn’t support such an action economically and, more importantly, the Kremlin doesn’t have an interest in waging a full-scale war if it can achieve its aims through lower-level measures. Those aims will continue to dominate debates within NATO and the EU on solidarity and approaches to security. The wavering US approach to common defence and a push from countries like France for greater European efforts on defence will likely spark further debate in the next 12 months.

While this outlook is rather bleak, 2019 also marks the 30-year anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War. The absence of a major European war in the decades since is certainly something to acknowledge and celebrate.

The end of the Merkel era

The Hesse elections were the last straw. Even though it looks like the ruling Christian Democratic Union – Greens coalition in this Bundesland (federal state) in central Germany will remain in power, Chancellor Angela Merkel’s CDU received just 27% of the votes in Sunday’s state elections. Following a disastrous result for the Christian Social Union (the CDU’s Bavarian sister party) in state elections two weeks ago and a general weakening in support for her party in the polls, Merkel will now relinquish the party leadership but plans to stay on as Germany’s chancellor.

At a press conference on Monday, Merkel conceded that she had traditionally opposed splitting the two posts of party leader and chancellor, believing that they should be held by the same person. But, having weighed up the pros and cons, she said she now feels it’s an acceptable compromise, even though she acknowledges that it’s a ‘gamble’.

To the surprise of many, she announced several steps to withdraw from power. After 18 years as CDU leader—the first woman to hold the post—she now won’t run for re-election as head of the party when it holds its convention in early December. She also called for a new leadership team to be put in place after her departure, which would be charged with preparing a new party platform. And she declared that she won’t seek another term as chancellor.

A number of CDU politicians are already positioning themselves to replace Merkel as party leader. They include Friedrich Merz, an economic conservative and social liberal who served as chair and deputy chair of the CDU/CSU parliamentary group in the late 1990s and early 2000s. He left party and general politics in 2009 citing differences over the CDU’s direction.

Another contestant showing interest is Jens Spahn, currently health minister and one of Merkel’s strongest critics within the CDU. At 38 years of age, he would bring both a generational and policy overhaul. Spahn belongs to the conservative wing of the CDU and could secure support from those who oppose the course Merkel has taken.

Armin Laschet, the premier of North Rhine-Westphalia and another potential candidate for the leadership, has often expressed support for Merkel’s decisions.

The only woman who’s been named as a potential successor is Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer. She is the former premier of the Saarland, whom Merkel had asked to become secretary-general of the CDU in March, a move seen by many as a sign that Merkel was positioning Kramp-Karrenbauer to be a potential successor.

Merkel said that she’s prepared to serve out the rest of her term as chancellor, which finishes in 2021. In the next federal elections, due to be held that year, she won’t stand as the CDU’s candidate for chancellor. She also won’t run again for a seat in the Bundestag, where she has served as an MP since December 1990, having been elected in the first poll held after German reunification.

Merkel served as minister for women and youth from 1991 to 1994 and as environment, nature conservation and nuclear safety minister before taking on the position of CDU secretary-general, which she held from 1998 to 2000. She took over from Gerhard Schröder to become the first female chancellor of Germany in 2005. On Monday, she clearly stated that she wouldn’t seek any other political office after 2021, silencing—for now—speculation that she could head for Brussels to take on a position in the European Union, a step taken by many politicians across Europe who have left office in their own countries.

In a conversation in 1998, Merkel said she believes that it’s easier for women to quit politics anytime because they remain more connected to everyday life and are less afraid to do so than men. She also said that she wanted to be remembered as someone who changed things, whose name was connected to certain achievements, and who hadn’t lost her connection to reality.

Merkel made history not only by becoming Germany’s first female chancellor, but also by taking several landmark decisions that affected the country’s future: phasing out nuclear power after the Fukushima disaster; leading European austerity policies following the global financial crisis; taking a stronger foreign policy stand after Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea; and refusing to close the borders during the height of the migration crisis. During her long tenure in politics, she has been voted the most powerful woman in the world on numerous occasions.

The announcement on Monday is typical of Merkel’s leadership style. Always a pragmatist, she has done what she believes is right. Now, she has taken responsibility for the situation the CDU and CSU have found themselves in—unlike some of her male colleagues. And, unlike her predecessors, she has chosen when and how she will exit the political stage.

The end of Germany’s two-party system

The German Social Democrats’ (SPD) existential crisis can no longer be treated as a typical party crisis. The party captured a mere 9.7% of the vote in regional elections in Bavaria this month and it is trailing both the populist Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) and the Greens in national opinion polls. With another important regional election fast approaching in Hesse, polls indicate that the SPD will lose still more support, albeit not as dramatically as in Bavaria.

The SPD and the Christian Democratic Union/Christian Social Union (CDU/CSU) have stood as the twin pillars of German politics since the end of World War II. But with the SPD declining, Germany is moving from a de facto two-party system to a multiparty system in which no single party plays a dominant role.

The German post-war consensus is collapsing in key areas—history (attitudes toward World War II), geopolitics (attitudes toward Russia), the economy (attitudes toward the auto industry) and ethics (attitudes toward refugees)—and this is reflected in the fracturing of the political scene. German voters have rejected the longstanding CDU/CSU-SPD ‘grand coalition’. Whereas smaller parties once functioned as mere subsidiaries of either the SPD or the CDU/CSU, the bit players are now eclipsing the former stars.

Moreover, what was once ‘red Munich’ has now turned green. Whereas cities had long been SPD strongholds, they are switching to the Greens and other smaller parties. Making matters worse for the SPD, the demographic profile of its core electorate amounts to a death sentence. Only 8% of SPD voters are under the age of 30 and a whopping 54% are over 60. By contrast, just 24% of Greens are over 60. And Die Linke (The Left), meanwhile, has become increasingly attractive both to younger new leftists and aging post-communists from the former East Germany.

Just as a two-party system ensures stability and predictability, so might its collapse contribute to radical social change. By definition, the fall of the establishment implies the rise of the anti-establishment, often in the form of populism. Since 2005, the SPD has participated as the minority partner in three grand-coalition governments. As a result, it has come to be associated with the status quo, even though it hasn’t been able to claim direct credit for the previous governments’ successes.

Something similar happened in Austria, where the Social Democratic Party ruled either alone or in conjunction with the Austrian People’s Party between 1971 and 1999 (except for 1983–1986). Such long periods of grand-coalition rule allowed for the right-wing populist Freedom Party of Austria to present itself as an agent for change.

When a grand coalition is threatened, its members tend to panic. Those who toe the party line lose support, as German Chancellor Angela Merkel has. Others thus attempt to appropriate populist language—as CSU leader Horst Seehofer has done in recent months—while still others will try to associate themselves with new political platforms. Hence, Alexander Dobrindt of the CSU has promised a ‘conservative revolution’, while Martin Schulz, the erstwhile leader of the SPD, has promoted EU federation.

At any rate, when the constituent parts of a coalition start moving in different directions, things quickly fall apart. Still, it is worth noting that while the SPD and the CDU are currently losing support, their ideas remain popular. Their problem is not that they are devoid of ideas, but that they lack political credibility.

This credibility deficit has created a vacuum for other parties to fill. Thus, the Greens have made gains in Bavaria by supporting an open-door refugee policy that actually originated with the CDU/SPD. Likewise, the AfD has wrested the anti-refugee mantle away from the CSU and Seehofer, who went so far as to try to undermine Merkel’s government from within while serving as interior minister. The common thread connecting all of the parties that performed well in the Bavarian election is that they ran politicians who are at least consistent in their views.

Unfortunately for Germany, multiparty systems are generally unstable and less predictable, which explains why every other European country—Latvia is a current example—constantly struggles to establish a governing coalition. Under such conditions, it is not uncommon for bizarre arrangements to arise, including coalitions between the far left and the far right, as we have seen in Greece, Italy and Slovakia.

Germany’s best hope now is that its newly emerging multiparty system will impede the progress of the AfD, by nullifying its anti-establishment appeal. The AfD will take its place on the radical right as one party among many. Its support will remain in the 10–20% range, but it will not go any further than that. In fact, this has already happened in Bavaria, where the AfD garnered 10.2% of the vote this month, down from the 12.4% that it received in last year’s federal election.

Another potential silver lining to a multiparty system is that it might lead to more political engagement. In the case of Bavaria, voter participation rose to 72.4% this election cycle, up from 63.6% five years ago.

Looking ahead, Germany may now end up with rotating coalition governments comprising multiple parties. For example, one could imagine an arrangement between the CDU/CSU, the Free Democrats and the Greens—the so-called Jamaica coalition. But this scenario would most likely produce political paralysis, because politicians from competing parties within the coalition would constantly undercut one another other while pandering to the popular will. Moreover, the chancellorship—traditionally very strong in Germany—will always be weaker in a patchwork government.

Most likely, the fall of the CDU/CSU-SPD duopoly will undermine German hegemony in Europe, even if no other country can replace Germany in that role. At the same time, the weakening of the SPD will diminish the socialist faction in the European Parliament, where a similar eclipse of two-party rule could be in the offing. Yet without the twin pillars of the European People’s Party and the Party of European Socialists, the parliament will be incapable of making even insignificant decisions. As Germany and the SPD go, so goes Europe.

A year of the AfD in the German parliament

Germany’s federal elections in September 2017 marked a turning point in the nation’s parliamentary history. A far-right extremist party entered the Bundestag for the first time since the end of World War II. Alternative für Deutschland (Alternative for Germany, or AfD) won 12.6% of the vote in 2017 and has 92 members in parliament. Since the Christian Democrats and Social Democrats formed the governing coalition, the AfD has been the largest opposition party. In 1969 another far-right party, the National Democratic Party of Germany (NPD), narrowly missed clearing the 5% hurdle to gain representation in the Bundestag in federal elections—the only time it came close —though it has won seats in state elections throughout the federal republic’s history.

In the 12 months that the AfD has been in the Bundestag, it’s changed the debating culture. AfD members are provocative and they’ve polarised debate and disrupted long-established procedures.  They regularly interrupt debates with loud and derisive laughter to denigrate opponents and attract attention to themselves. While such behaviour is not unheard of even in the normally ordered Bundestag, the AfD has taken it to a new level.

AfD members have flouted procedures and made headlines by, for instance, initiating a spontaneous minute of silence to commemorate the alleged killing of a teenage girl by an asylum seeker. Recently, the whole AfD parliamentary group left the plenary hall after Social Democrat MP, Johannes Kahrs, referred to them as radical right extremists. The AfD MPs accompanied their exit with yelling, commotion, and foot stomping to demonstrate their unity of purpose and disdain for the others in parliament, and in society generally, who do not share their views.

Presentation matters to the AfD and it has been using the Bundestag as a stage on which it creates images and makes statements that can be distributed through its social media platforms.

What used to be the extreme language of few on the fringes of the AfD has become the norm across the party. Some AfD officials, who were by any standard on the far right, have been tagged by even more extreme members as ‘moderates’ and some have since left the party. One example includes the former head of the party, Frauke Petry, who’s still a member of the Bundestag but not of the AfD’s parliamentary working group nor of the party itself. She has instead formed her own Blue Party, which is also positioned on the right, though Petry says it has a more moderate conservative foundation than the AfD.

There’s now serious concern that the constant torrent of extremist language is desensitising the public to highly offensive ideas. However, MPs from other parties haven’t given up. They regularly expose inaccurate AfD claims, and highlight the discrepancies between what the party says and what it does. They continue to defend democratic and German values, as seen in the passionate speech by Alliance 90/Greens MP Cem Özdemir on the fate of Turkish–German journalist, Deniz Yücel, who was imprisoned by the Turkish government.

It also became very apparent that the AfD lacked considered positions on healthcare, education, social policies and more when its co-leader Alexander Gauland was interviewed by German broadcaster ZDF. Gauland was asked to explain the party’s position on topics outside its focus on refugees and migration. This simple line of questioning was portrayed by The Atlantic as a valuable guide on how to expose extremists, and report on the far-right.

In a poll of voting intentions this month, the AfD overtook the Social Democrats for the first time with its strongest result yet of 18% support. However, in other polls taken shortly afterwards, the AfD came in behind the Social Democrats.

While the reliability of polls can be questioned, it appears that the number of Germans voting for this far-right extremist party is increasing despite Germany’s history. Whether the support derives from actual belief in the AfD’s values and in its program is not clear but, mirroring a global trend, many Germans apparently feel comfortable supporting a party with racist tendencies if that’s what it takes to send the major parties a message of discontent with current governing policies.

The end of NATO?

What is left of NATO and the transatlantic order after US President Donald Trump’s tumultuous week in Brussels, the United Kingdom and Helsinki, where he defended Russian President Vladimir Putin against accusations of cyber warfare by America’s own intelligence agencies?

Watching events unfold through rose-tinted glasses, one might think that the West’s most important strategic alliance is more or less okay, or even growing stronger. In fact, NATO is in peril, and its fate now lies in Trump’s contemptuous hands.

Prior to and during the NATO summit, there was much hand-wringing over member states’ military spending as a share of GDP. Each member is expected to increase its spending to 2% of GDP by 2024, but Trump seems to think that this already should have been done. And at the summit last week, he suddenly called for a new target of 4% of GDP—which is more than even the United States spends.

To be sure, over the past few decades, NATO’s primary focus was on peacekeeping operations in distant places, rather than on its core function of territorial defence. For most European member states, the peace dividend from the alliance’s operations justified cuts in domestic military spending.

But this attitude changed in 2014, when Russia annexed Crimea and launched secretive military incursions into Eastern Ukraine. Since then, NATO member states’ defence budgets have increased by around 4% per year on average, making the 2024 target eminently achievable.

More fundamentally, Trump’s complaint that the US is shouldering an unfair share of the burden for NATO’s collective defence is dubious. While the US military budget equals roughly 72% of combined defence spending by all NATO member states, roughly three-quarters of US military spending is directed towards regions other than Europe. Around half of the US defence budget is spent on maintaining a presence in the Pacific, and another quarter is spent on operations in the Middle East, strategic nuclear command and control, and other areas.

Moreover, although the US has increased its defence outlays in Europe substantially over the past few years, it is worth remembering that most US forces and facilities there are actually focused on the geostrategic arc from India to South Africa. With facilities such as Ramstein, Fairford, Rota, Vicenza and Sigonella, the US has long used Europe as a staging ground for deploying forces elsewhere. And the early-warning and surveillance facilities that the US maintains in the United Kingdom and Norway are there to defend the continental US, not Europe.

The fact is that total European defence spending is around twice what the US spends on European security, and also roughly twice what Russia spends on defence, according to estimates produced at the US National Defense University.

The critical importance of US command, control and intelligence forces in Europe should not be minimised, but it should at least be put into perspective. Although the US Army recently rotated heavy brigades through Europe for military exercises, its permanently stationed troops are equipped only for limited interventions.

This is why NATO must continue to improve its defence capacity in Europe. At a minimum, Europe needs more military forces, and those forces need to be equipped for rapid deployment to critical areas. The new mobility command that is being established in Germany is a promising first step.

And yet, Russia’s advantages over NATO have less to do with resources than with command and control. As a single country, Russia’s military forces are more integrated, and can be deployed more quickly in pursuit of strategic directives from the Kremlin. Such nimbleness was amply demonstrated in Crimea in 2014 and in Syria the following year.

For its part, NATO does have a deeply integrated command structure for the forces that are assigned to it. But that hardly matters if political decisions to deploy forces or launch operations are not taken in time. In any military confrontation, unity of will and the speed of high-level decision-making determine the outcome.

The problem is that while NATO’s military capacity is actually improving, its political decision-making capacity is deteriorating. Imagine what would happen if a NATO member state sounded the alarm about Russia launching a secretive Crimea-style military operation within its borders. Then, imagine that US intelligence agencies confirmed that an act of aggression was indeed underway, despite Putin’s denials.

Finally, imagine how Trump might respond. Would he call Putin to ask what’s going on? And would Putin make another ‘incredible offer’ to help US investigators get to the bottom of things? Even more to the point: Would Trump quickly invoke the principle of collective defence under Article 5 of the NATO treaty? Or would he hesitate, question the intelligence, belittle US allies, and validate Putin’s denials?

These are truly disturbing questions to have to ask of an American president. They will now hang over Europe’s head indefinitely.

After the bombast, NATO’s still here

Looking past the drama that surrounds any Donald Trump visit, it appears that NATO has emerged from its two-day summit in Brussels as strong as ever.

The 28 allies, including the US, agreed on a long and detailed communiqué that criticises—in unprecedented depth—Russian aggression and its breaching of ‘the values, principles and commitments which underpin the NATO–Russia relationship’.

The allies have reiterated their commitment to fight international terrorism and to support international treaties and initiatives for non-proliferation and to combat the use of chemical weapons.

They’ve reaffirmed their commitment to Afghanistan and promised support through 2024. The allies also launched a new capacity-building initiative in Iraq as well as a ‘Package on the South’ dealing with threats on Europe’s southern periphery and bringing stronger cooperation on the Middle East and Africa. NATO’s Regional Hub for the South in Naples is now at full capacity.

In the lead-up to the summit, much was written on likely outcomes. America’s allies prepared for the worst. In Brussels, media coverage quickly focused on Trump’s attacks on Germany, including his claims that it spent too little of its GDP on defence and that Germany was ‘captive’ to Russia because that’s where 60 to 70% of its ‘energy’ came from. In reality, 50% to 75% of Germany’s natural-gas imports come from Russia, and gas makes up less than 20% of Germany’s overall energy mix.

Germany’s foreign office quickly pointed out via Twitter that in 2017, gas imported from Russia made up only 9.6% of Germany’s total energy consumption. When oil from Russia was added, the total Russian share of Germany’s energy consumption was still only 23%—far from the 70% Trump claimed.

On the US president’s claim that Germany was ‘captive’ to Russia, an unhappy German Chancellor Merkel countered with recollections of her own experience of living in Soviet-controlled East Germany. Later that day, Trump suggested that allies should spend 4% rather than 2% of its GDP on defence, a number that seems utopian. Not even a third of the allies have reached the 2%-goal, and the US spends about 3.5% of its own GDP on defence.

If the allies thought those tirades on the first day were all they had to deal with, the second day provided greater drama. The Trump administration cancelled bilateral meetings with NATO allies and partner countries. Then Trump arrived late to scheduled talks with the Georgian and Ukrainian governments and diverted the agenda to defence spending. Reuters reported that the president told the stunned group that the US ‘would have to look to go its own way’ if allies didn’t raise their defence spending to 2% by January 2019 instead of by the 2024 target.

Trump left in his wake concerns that he not only enjoys the uncertainty he creates but also that he has no understanding of why alliances exist and how they work.

Notwithstanding all this drama, other key achievements at the summit were the launch of the NATO Readiness Initiative, significant progress on a NATO Joint Intelligence and Security Division led by an assistant secretary-general for intelligence and security, and a joint air power strategy. The communiqué noted that members of the alliance have been increasingly challenged by hybrid warfare, and such activity can now be declared an attack invoking Article 5 and committing the allies to common defence.

With that comes the establishment of ‘counter hybrid support teams’, and the decision to establish a cyberspace operations centre in Belgium; a Joint Force Command in Norfolk, Virginia; and a Joint Support and Enabling Command in Germany. The Multinational Division North East HQ will achieve full capability by December 2018, and will see the establishment of a Divisional HQ Baltic Command to focus on security in the Baltic Sea region.

The communiqué underlines the alliance’s commitment to its partners in North Africa, the Middle East and the Gulf region. As expected, Macedonia was offered membership during the Brussels summit, and the door was left open to discussion on the admission of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Georgia, and Ukraine.

The allies also emphasised the successful and deepening partnership with the European Union, and highlighted NATO’s leadership role in advancing the women, peace and security agenda through a renewed WPS policy and action plan.

The implementation of many themes, however, remains on the to-do list, including improving military mobility by land, air and sea by no later than 2024 and developing a NATO space policy. Some allies, with Macedonia, signed a memorandum of understanding to jointly acquire and warehouse land-battle munitions to foster interoperability and effectiveness.

At the summit, the alliance demonstrated that it is vital and committed to ensuring the security of its members. The strong communiqué was agreed upon by all and not cancelled by Trump (yet).

Outside NATO, analysts have been driving a discussion on whether defence expenditure as a proportion of GDP is the most appropriate way to measure contributions to the alliance or whether other factors—such as troop contributions or burden-sharing in general security challenges through capacity-building, conflict prevention or stability missions—would be a better measure.

This crucial question doesn’t seem to have been part of official NATO discussions. Perhaps it could be considered next year, when the NATO members are scheduled to meet to review the process and celebrate 70 years of the alliance.

Mittel power Australia and Germany

Malcolm Turnbull’s travel to the UK, Germany, France and Belgium next week reinforces the higher priority that his government has put on relations with key European countries.

A major focus of Turnbull’s visit will be to push for the rapid conclusion of an Australia–EU free trade agreement, but security is likely to occupy at least as much time in his meetings with Theresa May, Angela Merkel, French Prime Minister Édouard Philippe and NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg.

Not since the fall of the Berlin Wall has Australia had such pressing security interests to discuss with European allies. The list includes China, North Korea, Russia’s increasingly risky and assertive behaviour, Afghanistan’s prospects, Syria, intelligence and cyber cooperation, and the next wave of terrorist threats after the defeat of Islamic State. Relations with the Trump administration, including US trade policy, will no doubt also figure in the Prime Minister’s meetings, as will Brexit and the future evolution of the European Union.

Australia has rapidly established deep defence industry connections with France and Germany, with the future submarine project and the announcement in March of a $5.2 billion contract with German firm Rheinmetall to manufacture combat reconnaissance vehicles for the Australian Defence Force.

The Turnbull visit is a welcome reassurance that Europe remains of great importance for Australia. The 2017 Foreign Policy White Paper describes Australia as ‘a regional power with global interests’ but the treatment of Europe in the statement is, at best, cursory. There are many in Canberra who stick to the view that the best way to demonstrate Australia’s ‘Asianness’ is to dismiss as old-fashioned any connections to Europe.

Turnbull and, to be fair, his predecessor, Tony Abbott, have been much more bullish in promoting closer ties with Europe, Germany and France in particular. In both cases it’s important to ask if our engagement with Berlin and Paris will be sustained in an imagined post-Turnbull future.

ASPI has written recently on the Australia–France relationship. Here we review how the closer relationship with Germany evolved and look to next steps. During Chancellor Merkel’s brief visit to Australia in 2014, both governments agreed that the then Australia–Germany bilateral relationship did not reflect the political and economic weight of both countries, regionally and globally. We needed a more modern and substantial relationship and we had a lot to offer each other.

So the Chancellor and the then-Prime Minister established an Australia–Germany Advisory Group (AGAG), chaired at ministerial level and reporting directly to the two leaders, to identify what we should both do. That group made 59 far-reaching recommendations across all areas, including on strengthening our strategic dialogue, trade, science, education and innovation, and cultural links. The Chancellor and Prime Minister Turnbull accepted all recommendations in Berlin in 2015 and the implementation of those recommendations has already transformed Australia–Germany relations.

It’s important to note that, on the German side, the Chancellor’s agreement to go down this path reflected a very deliberate decision by the German government to build as strong a relationship as possible with a country like Australia. In doing so, the Germans recognised not only that Australia is deeply embedded in an area of great economic and strategic interest to Germany, but is also a democracy with similar (Western) values.

Even more importantly, the decision by both governments to build a vastly better relationship preceded the Brexit referendum. It was a conscious, strategic decision by the Australian government to broaden significantly our ties with Europe beyond the United Kingdom, to embrace Europe’s largest and best-performing economy and most important country.

Brexit has made that decision even more vital for Australia. The arguments for a stronger Australia–Germany relationship are self-evident. But, for good economic and strategic reasons, when Britain leaves we will also need very good friends within the new European Union.

This will require a determined and sustained effort, going beyond the excellent work of AGAG: we will need to work hard to continue to get the attention of the Chancellor and her government to better relations with Australia. And there are a lot of distractions for Angela Merkel.

She has only recently—and with great difficulty—formed a new German government, a ‘grand coalition’ (GroKo) with the Social Democrats. It’s early days for the GroKo but it is already clear that government will not be at all easy. And this could well be her last term as chancellor, so succession speculation is already rife.

She is facing a serious challenge in creating a new EU, with major differences of approach between those members states (for example, Hungary, Poland and Austria but also, in all likelihood, Italy) that do not support greater European integration and want power to be returned to capitals from Brussels, and those (like Germany or France) that argue for much greater European integration. Germany and France are also not necessarily on the same page regarding President Emmanuel Macron’s proposals for strengthening the Eurozone.

And there are other big issues to deal with, including how to handle illegal immigration. The Chancellor’s views on this difficult problem are strongly opposed by many of the populist/nationalist governments within the EU; she also faces strong opposition on this issue from within her own party, not to mention from her coalition partner.

The list goes on: continuing economic stagnation in EU member states; great uncertainty about the Trump administration, including very deep concern about its trade policy; Russia; negotiating Brexit.

So what more can and should we be doing to maintain the momentum? The newly created Australia–Germany ‘2 plus 2’ meeting of foreign and defence ministers needs to set a cracking pace of joint policy development in ways that push both countries’ bureaucracies to do more things and to do them more quickly. We need to be sharing our thinking on how to address the internal subversion threats presented by China and Russia. We need a plan on how to leverage our new defence industry cooperation into closer engagement with Southeast Asian countries.

We should also do more to boost the already successful bilateral cooperation on scientific research. If Australia genuinely does have global foreign policy interests, why not extend Julie Bishop’s New Colombo Plan scholarship scheme to Europe, with France and Germany in the lead as the two most consequential countries in our post-Brexit relationship with Europe. We could also expand our education cooperation into other areas too, such as in technical and further education, where we have much to offer each other.

In addition, we need more German ministers—and the Chancellor, when she has time—visiting Australia. Despite the recent visit by German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier, there have been far too few senior German visitors here. We need to strengthen dialogue at ministerial level across all areas. Getting together in the margins of international meetings is not enough.

These recommendations—and no doubt there are many others—should be in Malcolm Turnbull’s reading pack for next week’s visit. We hope that Turnbull’s pro-European instincts will make him push the bureaucracy to deliver more and bigger initiatives for closer engagement with Europe.