Tag Archive for: Nato

The transatlantic world will never be the same

Once upon a time, the United States saw the contest between democracy and authoritarianism as a singularly defining issue. It was this outlook, forged in the crucible of World War II, that created such strong transatlantic bonds. For many decades, the US-European alliance was not only about security, but ideology and shared values. That is why the relationship endured for 80 years.

But now, thanks to US President Donald Trump, the world of just two months ago has already come to feel like distant history. The very nature of the West is changing at lightning speed before our eyes. So sudden and disorienting is the disruption that many have been left grasping for an anchor. The new reality became apparent when the US joined Russia and a few other outcast authoritarian countries to vote against a UN General Assembly resolution condemning Russia’s aggression against Ukraine on the third anniversary of the full-scale invasion. That was a watershed—a date that will live in infamy.

Obviously, the implications of the new US foreign policy are profound. No one can deny that the transatlantic security alliance is fraying. Political leaders might feel a duty to insist publicly that the old mutual defence commitments remain solid; but they are not fooling anyone—not even themselves. The credibility of the alliance depends on the person in the White House, and that person has no credibility when it comes to matters of transatlantic security.

Moreover, we are witnessing a marked departure from the first Trump administration, which at least kept the transatlantic ideological alliance largely intact. Vice President J D Vance’s speech at the Munich Security Conference indicated that this time is different. His message sent shockwaves through European security, defence, and foreign policy circles. Not only did he dismiss as irrelevant the security issues that have anchored NATO for three-quarters of a century; he completely redrew the ideological map in such a way as to pit Europe and the US against each other. Suddenly, the US looked not like an ally, but like an adversary.

The MAGA fundamentalists at the core of the Trump administration are engaged in a culture war that aims to transform US society. Their project is largely a reactionary counterrevolution against liberal tendencies that they believe have subverted their country. MAGA wants to return to a more martial, conservative and semi-isolationist version of American exceptionalism. As such, its defining struggle has nothing to do with the contest between democracy and authoritarianism. Those words hardly figure in its narratives.

Given the nature of its culture-war project, MAGA sees Europe as an adversary. Vance, who has aligned his rhetoric with European right-wing extremists, argues that Europe is ‘at risk [of] engaging in civilisational suicide.’ Similarly, Elon Musk, Trump’s top financial backer and aide, has openly campaigned for far-right parties in Germany and Britain. Looking ahead, we will almost certainly see more of this advocacy in countries like Poland and Romania (where a court annulled a first-round election result last year, citing Russian interference). Since MAGA ideologues see open, liberal European societies as extensions of their enemies at home, their support for illiberal, anti-democratic forces is perfectly logical.

They also have a fundamentally different view of Russia. It is no coincidence that their rhetoric often echoes that of Russian President Vladimir Putin’s regime (sometimes almost word for word). MAGA and Putin alike espouse aggressive nationalism and hostility toward liberal values; they both carry on endlessly about sovereignty and the role of strong leaders and strong nations in shaping the future. Whether you are in the Kremlin or the White House, the so-called globalists are the enemy.

Whereas the Biden administration obviously wished for regime change in Russia—even if this was never expressed as an official policy goal—the Trump administration wants regime change in Europe. Europe is no longer an ally, but an enemy; and though Russia might not (yet) be a full US ally, nor is it an adversary. Putin’s regime has a closer ideological affinity with the current US administration than the Europeans ever will.

If there is any hope for the transatlantic world, it lies in the fact that the US is not uniform. Contrary to what he claims, Trump has no mandate to do what he is doing. But with US society so polarised, its political trajectory is not easy to predict. Even if a partial return to the old order is still possible, the forces driving the reactionary counterrevolution will be around for years to come.

The world must take note and shape its policies accordingly. Europeans can hope for the best, but they must prepare for the worst. What once seemed impossible—a rogue US—has become all too likely.

Some US allies contribute, some loaf. Here’s a numerical assessment

Which US allies have paid their bills, as President Donald Trump would see things? Which, having given the United States little support in return for its security guarantee, now risk losing it?

The short answer, derived from our numerical methodology, is that only nine countries in the US’s main European and Indo-Pacific alliance networks are genuine net contributors to their partnerships with Washington. Australia, Britain and the Netherlands rank highest. Poland, Norway and France are also pulling their weight.

Sixteen countries in those alliances, though not quite free-riders, can fairly be called cheap-riders, according to our assessment, which measures allies’ commitments of blood and treasure. Another 12 may be classified as blatant cheap-riders, notably including Japan, which has the largest economy among the US’s friends.

Our assessment does not focus on Washington’s Latin American and Caribbean allies, but, if it did, they’d all be classed as cheap-riders or blatant cheap-riders.

With Trump taking the unprecedented step of linking protection with payment, our analysis aims to clarify allies’ risks of US abandonment. For the NATO and Indo-Pacific allies, this is no mere academic exercise. European NATO members face an aggressive Russia that has threatened to expand its war against Ukraine. And US allies in the Indo-Pacific confront an increasingly assertive and powerful Beijing, alongside growing nuclear and missile threats from Pyongyang.

Contrary to expectations, we found that proximity to these threats did not necessarily correlate with higher contribution to the US alliance, especially in Europe.

Within alliances that are asymmetric, as any with the US must be, weaker partners cannot fully compensate the stronger partner for protection. They’re not rich enough. But they can contribute (or, in Trump’s parlance, ‘pay’) through such actions as providing international diplomatic support, forward bases or niche military capabilities.

Trump generally attaches greater weight to more readily quantifiable measures, such as defence spending as a percentage of GDP. So we follow him, answering the bottom-line question ‘Who’s paid?’ by asking five component questions with readily quantifiable insights. We aggregate the results into an overall payment score.

First, has the ally met its defence spending targets over the lifetime of the alliance? Washington expects allies to spend at least 2 percent of GDP on defence (though Trump has floated higher standards). By doing so, allies develop properly funded independent military capabilities, reducing the US’s burden of guaranteeing their security. Higher spending also makes them more useful potential partners in US-led coalitions operating outside the alliance areas. Consistently meeting the 2 percent target, amid constant pressures on the public purse, also demonstrates a domestic political resolve that enhances the alliance’s deterrent potential. So we assess lifetime spending by comparing each ally’s total defence expenditure and GDP during its time in alliance with the US. Net contributors meet the 2 percent threshold, whereas net cheap-riders fall short.

Second, has the ally met its defence spending targets over the past decade? Military capabilities, accrued over time, atrophy without sufficient ongoing funding. Washington, for example, built a world-class navy in the American Civil War—which, after years of underinvestment, amounted to just ‘an alphabet of floating washtubs’. Correspondingly, recent defence spending provides insight into which allies have maintained the military capability and preparedness that Washington values. And, again, it shows political resolve. We assess recent spending by considering allies’ defence expenditures and GDPs since 2015 (when combat operations in the last US-led ground-war ended and when Trump’s full engagement in politics began). Net contributors meet the 2 percent threshold, whereas those falling short have either been persistent cheap-riders or, having formerly paid their dues, have now decided to take it easy.

Third, how much US weaponry has the ally purchased? Allied acquisitions of US military equipment, such as aircraft, give Washington several benefits: revenue from and longer production runs of existing systems (for example, F-16s); more work from their maintenance programs; savings from cooperative development of new systems (such as the F-35); and improved US and allied fighting strength thanks to the ease of operating common equipment. We assess weapons purchases by considering allies’ relative shares of US arms transfers and global GDP during their alliance tenure. Scores under 1 indicate comparatively limited purchases, whereas those exceeding 1 denote outsized purchases, and those above 2 show purchases that greatly favour US suppliers.

Fourth, has the ally supported US-led combat coalitions? Allied participation in military operations benefits Washington by providing international legitimation for the action and reducing the burden on the US. Alliances, however, are not wellsprings of guaranteed support: as self-interested actors, allies can decline to render aid or even defect to opposing blocs. Correspondingly, joining US-led coalitions builds good faith with Washington (and implicitly serves as down payment on reciprocal assistance). We assess participation by considering five ground-war coalitions (those for the wars in Korea, Vietnam, Persian Gulf, Afghanistan and Iraq) and five primarily air-war coalitions (in the Iraqi No-Fly Zones and campaigns in Bosnia, Kosovo and Libya and against ISIS). We allocate points according to the burden undertaken: for ground-wars, 8 points for providing frontline combat forces, 4 for supporting units, and 2 for financial assistance. For air wars (which involve less cost and risk), point values are halved. We count allies as consistently supportive if their points exceed 17 points and as reliable combat partners if they exceed 30.

Fifth, has the ally paid a blood price? Allied personnel losses, incurred while furthering Washington’s security interests, represent a shared sacrifice, one that demonstrates the highest form of loyalty (a value cherished by Trump) and implicitly serve as further down payment on reciprocal assistance. Since US-led air wars have featured minimal casualties, we assess losses by counting the number of US-led ground wars after World War II in which allies have suffered service deaths.

We generate overall payment scores by aggregating allies’ performances across all five measures. Each measure receives a 20 percent weighting, and we grant maximum points for:

—Meeting the 2 percent defence expenditure target during the period of alliance;

—Meeting it in the past 10 years;

—Greatly favouring the US in weapons purchases;

—Providing frontline combat forces for each US-led combat coalition; and

—Incurring personnel losses in each US-led coalition ground war.

Partial points are awarded relative to these maximums. Scores below 50 indicate blatant cheap-riding. Those exceeding 70 denote genuine net contributors—for example, 40 for meeting both spending targets, 20 for joining and suffering losses in more US-led coalitions than not, and 10 for outsized weapons purchases.

So, who’s paid?

The US alliance network contains few genuine net contributors, with only nine of 38 NATO and Indo-Pacific allies exceeding 70 points. Moreover, three net contributors deserve qualification: Greece and Turkey generally prioritise each other as a threat rather than NATO’s common adversary, Russia, and South Korea owes the US for its ongoing protection along with its defence during the Korean War.

The Indo-Pacific allies contribute relatively more than their NATO counterparts, averaging higher overall and component scores (apart from participation in operations, among which were three NATO-centric air-war coalitions). Compared with NATO, the Indo-Pacific alliance network also includes a greater percentage of genuine net contributors (28 percent versus 22 percent) and a much lower percentage of blatant cheap-riders (14 percent versus 35 percent).

Notable cheap-riders include Germany and Japan, because they have large economies and therefore great potential military might.

It’s also remarkable that cheap-riding is common in the countries of NATO’s Eastern European expansion. Apart from Poland, Romania and the Baltics, all are blatant cheap-riders, even though their membership has brought added burdens and risks to the alliance, including the US.

Australia is well insulated against Trump’s potential revisions to US alliance policy, which largely (and, in light of our findings, rightly) concentrate on redressing NATO’s relative underpayment. Canberra is immune to similar charges: no other ally has given Washington comparatively more blood and treasure than Australia, and the Albanese government has already begun reversing recent dips in defence spending, pledging to spend 2.3 percent of GDP by 2034. Moreover, Australia’s ‘indispensable’ strategic partnerships with other US allies remain relatively safe: Britain ranks second in terms of its alliance contributions (which bodes well for AUKUS solvency), and Japan, though a definite laggard, has been steadily boosting what Trump would see as its payments. It’s greatly lifting defence spending, increasing host-nation financial support and reinterpreting its constitution to permit collective military action.

How, or whether, Canberra’s unrivalled contributions will affect its bargaining position with Washington remains to be seen and needs supplementing with qualitive analyses (as given here for the first Trump presidency).

Trump’s turbulence shifts Australia’s focus to Europe

The SS United States is the largest American ocean liner to be entirely built at home.  To this day, it holds the speed record for crossing the Atlantic Ocean, which it set on its 1952 maiden voyage thanks to its military-grade propulsion.

Informed by a wartime need to move soldiers and materiel to Europe, the luxury liner had been designed to be readily convertible to a troopship that could swiftly deliver a 14,000-strong US Army division anywhere in the world. 

Despite decades of rust and decay, the beauty and power of the now 75-year-old vessel was evident when I had a private tour of United States in Philadelphia some years ago. Once emblematic of US primacy and trans-Atlantic ties, the ship is soon to be an artificial reef off Florida. Its fate and destinationin the re-named ‘Gulf of America’—is a depressingly apt metaphor for what America is becoming. 

The domestic whirlwind sweeping the US is echoed in its foreign policy, with serious implications for Australia’s strategic interests.  President Trump not only has renamed a map feature, he also is opening a gulf between the US and its long-time partners and alliesand Moscow and Beijing are strategic beneficiaries. 

While Australia rightly will remain committed to the Alliance which has underpinned our national security for decades, we must recognise that other countries that share our principled strategic goals will become more important to our national and regional security. 

Regional partnerships remain critical, but European nationswith their own experience of an autocratic neighbourcan help buffer our region against Trumpian caprice and resist growing pressure from a would-be hegemon, China. 

In his first term, Trump’s goading and confrontational bluster was fuelled by his unquenchable thirst for publicity. This time, it is more visceral, informed by conviction (in more than one sense of the word), and underpinned by determined malice and vindictiveness. 

This has been especially evident in his disdain for Ukrainian sovereignty, his dismissive attitude and threats towards NATO and Europe, and his solicitous courting of Russia’s president, Vladimir Putin. 

Barely a month in office, Trump has shifted the strategic balance more decisively in Russia’s favour than the Kremlin had been able to since Putin started his full-fledged, illegal and unjustifiable war of choice against Ukraine in February 2022. Trump deludes himself about the real aggressor, denigrating Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy while trying to monetise Ukraine’s existential war and extort an arms-for-minerals deal in a shakedown that would make Don Corleone blush. 

It is shameful that one democracy should be willing thus to abandon another to the predations of an autocracy. 

We are yet to see any strategic quid pro quo for Trump’s unilateral turn towards the Kremlin. His innately mercurial approach and pathological need to ‘win’ yet may disappoint Moscow, but Europe will scramble in the short term to compensate for any abrupt diminution in US commitment to trans-Atlantic security. Decisive leadership and vision will be vital, but the recent German election results underscore that this is not a given. 

In Who Will Defend Europe? Keir Giles, one of Britain’s leading Russia analysts, examines the self-imposed constraints that prevented the EU and NATO from adjusting fast enough to the end of the post-post-Cold War era and the return of strategic competition. At the core was Europe’s lack of military-industrial readiness and political resolve to confront a revanchist Russia. Those shortcomings must now be reddressed with long-overdue urgency. 

Giles usefully illuminates the wider malaise afflicting other nations grappling with the new world disorder and revisionist risk-takers who see strategic gain in near-term opportunism and confrontation. His arguments underscore an important consideration for Australia in coping with the turbulence and disruption emanating from Washington. 

Australia will need to maintain its natural focus on our Indo-Pacific region, but we will benefit at the same time from deeper collaboration with European counterparts in building national resilience here and elsewhere. By pooling our respective experience of autocratic efforts to subvert domestic cohesion and undermine trust in our democratic institutions, we will be better able jointly to contend with what’s become known as the Axis of Upheaval.

We can learn from the forthright approach of NATO’s newest members, Sweden and Finland.  Both use the concept of ‘total defence’, in which aspects of national strength, including social resilience and economic power, contribute to the defence of the nation, and from the honesty with which their governments articulate the challenges their societies face. 

Though varied in size and heft, Norway and the Baltic nations (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania) have deeply relevant and valuable experience as frontline states that share not just a continent but a common border with an imperially-minded power whose strategic goals are misaligned with those of democracies that trust in, and rely on, the international rule of law for their security and prosperity rather than the application of military force. 

Poland is also a valuable exemplar.  Like Estonia and Sweden, it has been pushing back against disinformation for years.  It recently put one of its most seasoned diplomats in charge of countering subversion and is also hosting a multinational Communications Group to better co-ordinate efforts at debunking misleading Russian narratives. 

As the SS United States began its final voyage, Susan Gibbs, the grand-daughter of the ship’s designer observed: ‘The ship will forever symbolize our nation’s strength, innovation, and resilience.’  While we must hope that these qualities will endure in the Alliance, we would be prudent to cultivate them more assiduously in our relations with Europe. 

Poland’s path to remarkable prosperity

Browsing social media, I recently came across a map showing all the countries with GDP per capita higher than Poland’s back in 1990 and in 2018. The difference was striking. While 35 years ago there were quite a few such countries, not only in Europe but also in South America, Asia and Africa, in time their number has significantly decreased. In 2018 there were no longer any South American or African states highlighted on the map.

As of 2025, the group has shrunk even further. According to data from the International Monetary Fund, Poland’s GDP in 1990 was a mere US$6690 in current dollars. By 2024 it grew almost eight-fold to US$51,630 in terms of purchasing power parity. All that in just three decades, or one generation. And it goes on. According to the European Commission’s forecast, in 2024–25, the Polish economy will be the fastest growing large economy in the European Union.

How did it happen? Apart from the hard work of our citizens, two major factors—or, to be more precise, two institutions—contributed to our economic success: NATO and the EU.

The first, which Poland joined in 1999, provided security guarantees and helped overcome decades-old division between Eastern and Western Europe. The second, which we joined five years later, took the process of easing long-standing disparities one step further. It granted new member states access to ‘cohesion funds’ and most importantly to the common European market.

After the fall of communism in Poland in 1989 and the return of messy democratic politics, despite day-to-day political squabbles one thing remained constant no matter who was in power—Poland’s determination to join the two aforementioned organisations. Why?

We are a great nation but a medium-size country. We cherish our long history—this year marks a millennium since the coronation of our first king—but our population is much smaller than that of Beijing and Shanghai combined. Poland needs allies to boost its potential on the international stage.

What’s been true for Poland—in 1990 a poor country coming out of four decades of Russian domination and economic mismanagement—might well be true for many of the middle powers in Asia, Africa and South America looking for room to grow.

These countries often need what Poland desperately needed 35 years ago and still profits from: good governance, foreign investments with no strings attached, and above all political stability, rule of law and a predictable international environment with neighbours eager not to wage wars but work together for mutual benefit. In fact, these factors can benefit every country, no matter their GDP.

Today the international order is being challenged on multiple fronts, sometimes for good reason. Decades-old institutions—including the UN and its Security Council—are unrepresentative of the global community and incapable of dealing with the challenges we face. What they need, however, is to be thoroughly reformed, not entirely rejected.

To those desperate for change, force might look appealing. It would be a mistake. Abandoning forums for international dialogue and resorting to violence will not get us far.

Take Russia’s unprovoked aggression against Ukraine. According to Kremlin propaganda, it is a justified reaction to western imperialism that allegedly threatens Russia’s security. In fact, it is a modern-day colonial war against the Ukrainian people who—just like us Poles 30 years ago—want a better life and realise they can never achieve this goal by going back to subjugation to Russia. That is what they are being punished for—an effort to free themselves from the control of a former metropolis. The Kremlin’s aggression is a desperate struggle of a failing empire to restore its sphere of influence.

A Russian victory—may it never come—would not create a more just global order. It wouldn’t benefit countries dissatisfied with where things stand now. It wouldn’t even bring about a more just and prosperous Russia. Suffice to say there are now more political prisoners in Russia than there were in the 1980s when the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan. There are many more casualties as well.

War is hardly ever a shortcut to prosperity. Over the past millennium, Poland experienced its share of invasions and uprisings against occupying forces. What finally brought us prosperity were three decades of peace, predictability, international cooperation and political stability.

That is why on assuming the presidency of the Council of the European Union, Poland made its priority clear: security in its many dimensions, including military, economic and digital. A Europe that is safe, prosperous and open for business can benefit not only Europeans but a greater global community. Just as it benefitted Poland over the past three decades.

It may sound dull, but it worked. Just look at the numbers.

We can predict Trump’s military policy. Here’s how Europe must react

We now know the main strategist in US President Donald Trump’s administration will be Elbridge Colby, nominated as undersecretary of defense for policy.

Colby is one of the most outspoken and transparent policy leaders in the Trump team, so European capitals can easily assess his worldview and likely moves. They must appreciate his perspective, which prioritises China as the United States’ main threat, and so they must do more in terms of defence.

From my own interactions with him, here is how I understand his big-picture assessment:

First, China is the ultimate threat to the US. China is an urgent threat, as it is outpacing the US in many key indicators and is clearly preparing for a global war. China could win such a war against the US, whereas other countries couldn’t.

Second, Colby believes the US is overstretched strategically and militarily. The US has overpromised security in many places and does not have the capacity to deliver on all its commitments. So it must prioritise. Almost everything the US will do strategically and militarily must be aimed at countering China and deterring it from launching a kinetic war.

Third, many US allies, from Europe to East Asia, are asking for US protection but not sufficiently funding their own defence, in Colby’s view. Defence spending of two percent of GDP in Europe or Japan is clearly not enough given current strategic threats.

The US defence industry base is weak, underfunded and poorly managed, Colby believes. It must be boosted and put on track, with a focus on building up the military power of the US and of core allies, power that is needed to confront China.

This world view of the incoming undersecretary will shape Trump’s expectations of European nations, and it suggests what they should do.

First and foremost, European defence spending must at least double. Trump has indicated a target of 5 percent of GDP, but only Poland is on track to reach it soon. Most NATO allies are only just finally meeting the 2 percent, deep-peace era minimum of 1990s.

Northern, central and eastern European countries—which have real fears of a possible Russian military attack—are urgently boosting their defence spending. For them, 4 percent sounds realistic.

Yet many western and southern European NATO members—facing economic problems and lacking the such fear of Russia—will surely reject such high spending targets. This may create a rift inside NATO between the eastern flank states and the rest of Europe. We may see Trump’s threats last year come to reality—that the US will protect only allies who spend enough.

Second, European states must expect that the war in Ukraine will be almost entirely their problem, not a transatlantic issue. If rich European states want Ukraine to survive, they must put their money where their proclamations about the epoch-deciding Russian war in Europe are. European capitals should offer to buy US weapons and ammunition for Ukraine. This is a deal the Trump administration may accept in exchange for its continued support of Kyiv.

European states need to send significant equipment and ammunition reinforcement to Ukraine for its immediate defence and to hold any potential future frozen contact line in its territory. If European NATO countries don’t, we will just keep watching Russia destroy brave yet exhausted Ukraine piece by piece.

Third, central and eastern European states should see a chance to transform themselves from beggars for US protection to active supporters of the US in its primary theatre as it confronts China.

To be valued in global US military strategy, they need to lift defence spending to between 4 and 5 percent of GDP and scale up their arms industries to reinforce their own forces and Ukraine’s. Moreover, they should become involved in East Asian security, giving Washington another reason to care about them as they face the Russian threat. They could, for example, help train Japanese, South Korean, Philippine or Taiwanese soldiers in such areas as cyber, coast guard, air defence, military logistics and civil-military preparations.

NATO’s eastern flank is preparing for a large defensive war against Russia, while East Asian states must change their defensive postures considering the threats from China, Russia and North Korea.

We can expect the Trump administration to focus on deterring China from taking hostile action against Taiwan. So that is where smaller central and eastern European allies should look to help. They can provide direct political support. They could put particular effort into training Taiwanese troops on US soil, and they could build many thousands of drones for a US strategy of turning the Taiwan Strait into a hellscape for a Chinese invasion force.

Trump, and Colby, would be pleased.

EU, NATO forge closer ties with East Asia as Russia, China threaten

The Russian invasion of Ukraine on 24 February 2022 brought the European Union and Poland closer to like-minded states in Asia, including Japan. We realised that despite different histories and cultures we share the same values regarding international politics, namely the adherence to the international law-based order established in 1945.

We do not accept the concept of spheres of influence where the stronger dictate policies to smaller countries, we do not accept that might is right, that internationally agreed borders can be changed by force, or that members of the United Nations can be made to disappear. The Ramstein group created to help Ukraine militarily in April 2022 consists of over 50 states. It includes all NATO members, as well as Australia, Japan, New Zealand, South Korea and some African and Latin American countries.

Over almost three years of the war in Ukraine, a linkage was made between Eastern Europe and East Asia. From a political perspective, a Russian victory would be interpreted as proof that aggression pays and can succeed because the liberal democracies of the world are weak, divided, lack strategic understanding and prefer to concentrate on commerce and profit, rather than sticking to the law-based order that made the world so successful after World War II. As a consequence, the South China Sea and the Taiwan Strait may soon face similar pressures. Abandoning Ukraine today will set an ominous precedent for some countries in East Asia.

In the European Union, and in Poland in particular, we realise that in the current situation security is the most important part of state policy. Germany’s Ostpolitik engagement and Wandel durch Handel (change through trade) policies failed in the past. Policies that encouraged Russia ended with its invasion of Georgia in 2008, Crimea in 2014 and the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. This is why the Polish EU rotating presidency in the first half of 2025 will concentrate on security: military, energy, food, pharma and cyber. This is why Poland will spend a record 4.7 percent of GDP on defence (in real terms, the fifth-largest spender in NATO) and already has the third-biggest army among member states.

In this context, the EU notes the political and economic support provided to Russia by China. In 2019, the organisation accepted the paradigm that China is a partner, economic competitor and systemic rival. Due to the war and the results of the American presidential election, this assessment has changed. China supports in principle Russia’s position on the United States, NATO and Western Europe. Specific Russian goals were described just before the invasion of Ukraine in the two treaty proposals from Russia to the EU and the US and published on the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs website on 17 December 2021.

The message was that NATO activities in former Soviet territories should be constrained and NATO should not be permitted to expand. The proposal was unacceptable to NATO members. The Russian invasion of Ukraine rendered them obsolete. NATO has a military presence on its eastern flank and previously neutral Finland and Sweden became full members.

The increasingly assertive security policies of China in the Indo-Pacific, which includes the supply of sensitive dual-use items to Russia (though denied by the authorities) may put in doubt China’s partner status in relation to the EU. As the EU’s new top diplomat Kaja Kallas stated in a hearing in Brussels, ‘My priority in contacts with China will be protection of the geopolitical and economic security of the EU.’ The new approach to China may concentrate more on the rival part and on pursuing de-risking strategies, especially in areas critical for EU member security. These areas include energy transformation, the pharmaceuticals sector, agriculture and new technologies. The new sanction regime may include Chinese companies suspected of selling components of potential military use to Russia.

We can expect that the US will demand that the EU follow the restrictions of trade and accept US regulations and technological standards in relation to China. Incoming president Donald Trump’s policy may concentrate on decoupling and there may be an expectation that the EU should follow suit, given that the bloc remains a large and basically open market for Chinese products and is dependent on China in some key industrial areas.

Should the US introduce high tariffs on Chinese products, the European countries may face increased imports. This in turn may result in a more assertive EU approach, as exemplified in the antidumping duties for Chinese electric cars. China, which regards the EU as a weak body dependent on the US, may in turn try to increase bilateral contacts with some EU member states that rely primarily on their supply chains and China-based production. As a result, EU member states may have different views on the de-risking strategy.

China regards Russia as its ally and partner in its rivalry with the US. The post-1945 international order is challenged, although in different forms, by both these countries. Both accept the idea of the spheres of influence and the logic that a few big and powerful states should exercise control over the other smaller and weaker entities. China regards positively the proposals for European strategic autonomy, as that may weaken transatlantic relations. It also aspires to be a partner or a guarantor of the new European security architecture proposed by Russian President Vladimir Putin—a suggestion that is obviously unacceptable to the EU and NATO members.

The geopolitical changes after February 2022 produced some unexpected results. For the first time since the collapse of the Soviet Union, most European countries started to take defence and security seriously. In 2024, the goal of spending 2 percent of GDP annually on defence by NATO members was reached by 20 out of 32 states (three years earlier there were six). Europe decided to produce arms and munitions to recreate the once thriving industry dismantled in the 1990s.

Most importantly, the Europeans and the like-minded East Asians came to cooperate closely with each other on security. We have now strong links with the IP4 (Australia, New Zealand, Japan and South Korea), but also with India and the Philippines.

Together, we can become resilient while facing international challenges.

Putin’s march of folly

In a lengthy address at the annual Valdai Discussion Club meeting this month, Russian President Vladimir Putin tried to outline his view of the world. Rambling on about a global ‘minority’ that is stymying the ambitions of the ‘majority’, he would have us believe that Russia belongs to the latter. Yet when Russia attempted to derail the final communique at the United Nations Summit of the Future this fall, countries from across the Global South firmly rebuffed the attempt.

Throughout his Valdai appearance, Putin struggled to hide the fact that what he really cares about is avoiding a ‘strategic defeat’ in Ukraine. In fact, Russia has already suffered a strategic defeat, inflicted not by the West or even by Ukraine, but by Putin himself. For the past two decades, his own myopic, destructive policies have forced Ukraine to turn toward the West for support and solidarity.

One of Putin’s first blunders came after Ukraine’s 2004 presidential election, when his ham-fisted attempt to choose the winner ended up provoking the Orange Revolution, which swept the moderate former central banker Viktor Yushchenko into the Ukrainian presidency. Putin has been trying to exert influence over the country ever since.

But the pattern is clear: time after time, the Kremlin’s heavy-handed efforts have backfired, leaving Ukrainians even more determined to align themselves with the West. Contrary to what some Western commentators and Kremlin propagandists claim, this was never a case of the West expanding eastward as part of some malevolent plot. It was the Ukrainians who were making the strategic moves, which reflected Putin’s efforts to curtail their sovereignty.

In 2008, proposals to extend NATO membership to Ukraine clearly lacked the necessary support, as both France and Germany opposed the idea at the time. Ukraine took the hint and in 2010 reaffirmed its neutral status as a means of keeping Putin at bay.

But the situation changed again in 2013, after Putin pressured Ukraine’s pro-Russian president, Viktor Yanukovych, to reject an Association Agreement with the European Union. Closer trade ties with Europe would have boosted Ukraine’s economy and curtailed corruption by requiring it to adapt EU legal norms; but Yanukovych, in exchange for a $15 billion bailout by Russia and lower gas prices, acquiesced to Putin’s demands and abandoned the agreement. In response, Ukrainians took to the streets in what would become the Euromaidan uprising, and Yanukovych soon fled for Russia in the dead of night.

Putin’s response made his intentions all too clear. He deployed Russian special forces—‘little green men’ whose uniforms bore no identifying insignias—in Crimea, a part of Ukraine since 1954, and then illegally annexed it. Left with no other choice, Ukraine responded by ditching neutrality, seeking NATO membership and moving forward with the EU agreement. Moreover, NATO—itself feeling threatened by Putin’s brazen land grab—stationed forces in its Eastern European member states for the first time.

These were perfectly understandable responses to Putin’s acts of aggression. Again, the West was not trying to inflict a strategic defeat on Russia; Putin was doing it to himself. By the early 2020s, with Ukraine moving even closer toward the West, he recognized the grim consequences of his blunders and decided to put an end to the issue. His goal in launching a full-scale invasion was either to transform Ukraine into a Belarus-like satrapy or eliminate it as a nation-state altogether.

It soon became obvious that Putin had miscalculated yet again. He believed that a quick special operation would be enough to topple Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s administration and install a Kremlin-friendly regime in Kyiv. Instead, his forces encountered a determined nation that they were not prepared to fight. Almost three years later, Russia controls only around 10 percent more of Ukraine’s territory than it had in 2014, when it grabbed 7 percent. It is a pathetic result, especially considering that the occupied areas have largely been destroyed, with probably only half of their pre-2014 population remaining.

Putin’s aim is still to take full control of Ukraine and recreate Imperial Russia. But this effort will fail. Although Bolshevik forces re-established control of Ukraine after the Russian civil war in the early 1920s, even Vladimir Lenin understood that Ukraine is and must remain a separate political entity. And while Putin has rejected Lenin’s belief as a grave error, it was Joseph Stalin who made Ukraine a separate member of the United Nations.

With Putin continuing his war of aggression, the casualties will keep mounting (probably to around ten thousand per week). But the only certain outcome of his misadventure will be the hatred that Ukrainians now bear toward Russia. This will have long-lasting consequences, and it already represents a major strategic defeat for Russia. Responsibility for the situation starts and ends with Putin. The West could never have achieved what Putin has: Ukraine’s total alienation from Russia.

From the bookshelf: ‘Who Will Defend Europe?’

Despite frequent US calls for NATO to lift defence spending, most of its European members kept pocketing a peace dividend in recent years by running down their armed forces and defence industries. They imagined that war would never return to Europe and that in any event they could rely on the US to defend them.

Both assumptions were illusory, as Keir Giles argues in a new book, Who Will Defend Europe? Giles is a senior fellow at Chatham House and director of the Conflict Studies Research Centre. He has been an active and prescient analyst of Russia, especially since the invasion of Ukraine, notably in his books Moscow Rules and Russia’s War on Everybody.

As Giles notes, many commentators argue that Russia can no longer be considered a major security threat. It has not been able to achieve its ambitious goal of conquering Ukraine despite its size advantage and has lost enormous numbers of troops and military equipment.

But this viewpoint is shortsighted, writes Giles. Russia has built back its land forces, offsetting losses. The rest of Russia’s military—its air force, navy and nuclear forces—is relatively unscathed. When hostilities come to a halt, Russia will be able to quickly rebuild its military for more adventurism. Indeed, according to off-the-record interviews with European defence and intelligence chiefs that Giles conducted, Russia will be preparing for its next attack on a European NATO member country in the coming few years.

The enormous challenge of countering Russia beyond the traditional battlefield was also highlighted by British MI5 Director General Ken McCallum in a recent speech, when he said: ‘While the Russian military grinds away on the battlefield, at horrendous human cost, we’re also seeing Putin’s henchmen seeking to strike elsewhere, in the misguided hope of weakening Western resolve.’ He said Russia ‘is on a sustained mission to generate mayhem on British and European streets: we’ve seen arson, sabotage and more.’

Writing before the 5 November presidential election, Giles says that, regardless of the results, the US will likely be less committed to defending NATO’s European members. Through the ongoing conflict in the Middle East, it is apparent that the US is more committed to defending Israel than Ukraine, with fewer restrictions being placed on Israel’s use of American military equipment. US military leaders in the Indo-Pacific are also competing with NATO for resources as they consider the possibility of a conflict with China in 2027, widely deemed to be a greater priority than Europe.

Ukraine is a shield holding back Russian aggression from Europe, writes Giles, but European reactions are quite diverse. Frontline states such as Poland and Finland are taking the Russian challenge seriously and ramping up defence expenditure. Germany has announced a major increase in defence spending, but it will take a long time for this to translate into improved capabilities. Moreover, while most European NATO countries are now aiming to achieve the organisation’s defence spending target of 2 percent of GDP, it seems that much higher contributions will be necessary.

Giles is rather despondent about the state of the military in Britain, his home country, where it seems to be in a shambles. While the new Labour government’s strategic defence review is welcome, conducting it postpones the timing of reform of the military by one year, and the government has announced that it will not be increasing defence spending.

Another area of concern is Giles’ perception that, because of their soft and comfortable lifestyle, Britons may not come together to defend its nation and values, as it did during World War II. While the same concern would apply to some other European countries, the need to defend your country and values is a relatively easy sell in Sweden, Finland and Poland.

Giles also laments the reluctance of some leaders to speak openly about the gravity of Europe’s security situation. Most European economic and political systems have not woken up to the threat, or if they have, they are not doing anything about it. European populations are mostly unaware of threats to their countries’ security.

Overall, Who Will Defend Europe? is a well-written book, offering detailed insights and perspectives on the gravity of Europe’s security situation, which will have spillover effects worldwide.

Ukraine should have security guarantees

With Israel conducting a ground offensive in Lebanon, and Iran raining ballistic missiles on Israel, fears are rising that the conflict in the Middle East will soon spiral and draw in powers like the United States. But Ukraine is still fighting its own war—one that it will have no chance of winning if its international partners, especially the US and the European Union, turn their attention elsewhere.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, well aware of this risk, has sought to bring Ukraine back into sharp focus. His visit to the US last month included meetings with US President Joe Biden and the candidates in next month’s US presidential election, Vice President Kamala Harris and former president Donald Trump, as well as an appearance at the United Nations General Debate.

Ukraine’s achievements are worth touting. When the Kremlin launched its full-scale invasion in 2022, it envisioned a swift victory. Soldiers had supplies for a five-day mission, which was supposed to end with a parade in Kyiv (they had reportedly even packed ceremonial uniforms). Today, the once-feared Black Sea fleet is in shambles, and Ukraine has even managed to capture some Russian territory. Zelensky’s leadership has fostered a more solid sense of national identity in the people he leads than perhaps any leader in recent history.

But Russian forces continue solidifying their gains in the eastern Donbas region, and Ukraine is struggling with shortages of both ammunition and recruits. Against this backdrop, Zelensky presented his ‘victory plan’—a strategy aimed at strengthening Ukraine’s position on the battlefield, in order to increase its leverage in negotiations with Russia—to US leaders.

The response was mixed. While Biden reaffirmed his ‘unwavering support’ for Ukraine, and authorised the release of US$8 billion in military aid, he refused Zelensky’s request for permission to use US missiles to strike targets deep inside Russia. This was a major disappointment to Zelensky, but for Biden, the risks are simply too high.

In fact, just days before Biden and Zelensky met in the White House, Russian President Vladimir Putin amended Russia’s nuclear posture to interpret an attack by a non-nuclear state, if backed by a nuclear power, as a ‘joint attack’, which might justify a nuclear response. While Biden has so far not allowed Putin’s nuclear sabre-rattling to cow him into submission—his administration has continued to support Ukraine, despite a long series of nuclear threats from the Kremlin—he remains keen to avoid escalation.

In any case, Zelensky will soon be dealing with a different US president, and whereas Harris has pledged to ‘ensure Ukraine prevails’ in the war against Russia, Trump says that he will seek a negotiated settlement immediately after the election. When Zelensky was in the US, Trump initially refused to meet with him at all, though he eventually did—after touting his ‘very good relationship’ with Putin. Zelensky also sparked a backlash from Republicans when he visited an ammunition factory in Pennsylvania and criticised Trump’s running mate, JD Vance, for opposing continued US support for Ukraine, which Vance argues should cede territory to Russia in a peace deal.

If the US abandons Ukraine, Zelensky will have few options. Biden has succeeded in rallying international support for Ukraine and maintaining cohesion among NATO allies, precisely because he restored America’s credibility as an ally and partner after Trump turned the US into a laughing stock. Harris might be able to sustain Biden’s record—though, with Europe’s commitment to Ukraine already wavering, it would not be easy—but Trump would not and could not do the same.

It should be no surprise, then, that Zelensky is attempting to secure an airtight security guarantee: his victory plan includes a bold—and justified—demand for a formal NATO invitation for Ukraine. Putin believes, in defiance of history and international law, that Ukraine is part of Russia, rather than a sovereign country. This makes Ukraine fundamentally vulnerable to Russian interference, incursions, or worse.

The security assurances offered in Budapest in 1994, when Ukraine relinquished its nuclear arsenal, were insufficient to overcome this vulnerability. Only the kinds of robust security guarantees that accompany full NATO membership can credibly prevent Putin, or any future Russian leader, from violating Ukraine’s territorial integrity. The US, however, has been reluctant to support Ukraine’s bid for NATO membership, at least while the war is ongoing.

While Europe cannot override the US here, some suggest that it can help safeguard Ukraine another way. Traditionally, NATO membership has preceded EU accession, with NATO accession ensuring the political and economic security that EU membership demands. In Ukraine’s case, however, EU membership could theoretically be used to anchor the country within Western institutions, without requiring NATO to provide mutual defence.

But it is far from clear that EU membership alone would shield Ukraine from future Russian aggression. So, if NATO guarantees remain out of reach for Ukraine, even after the war ends, alternative security arrangements must be found. South Korea’s guarantees under its alliance with the US might offer an effective model, especially given that Ukraine could end up being divided, at least temporarily, much as the Korean Peninsula was in 1945.

Ultimately, however, NATO is the best equipped to safeguard Ukraine. And it has good reason to do so. The Ukraine war is not just a regional conflict; it represents a broader struggle over the principles on which global stability rests, including national sovereignty, territorial integrity, and the rule of law. It is also a litmus test for Western credibility, after America’s disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021.

If Ukraine is to survive the current war, let alone start down the long path toward reconstruction, it needs more than symbolic support or vague security assurances. It needs concrete guarantees. NATO should provide them.


The headline of this article has been amended since publication.

Australia should work with NATO on climate change

As Australia and the other three Indo-Pacific countries closely associated with NATO assemble in Washington to celebrate the alliance’s 75th anniversary, they should work to advance collaboration with it on climate and security assessments in the Indo-Pacific

Coordination with NATO by Australia, Japan, New Zealand and South Korea (together called the IP4) could leverage current initiatives that commit to joint work on climate resilience, such as the Australia-Japan Joint Declaration on Security Cooperation), and the networks that each IP4 partner has in the region.

This engagement would enhance NATO’s understanding of Indo-Pacific climate risks and let IP4 countries benefit from the alliance’s growing expertise in the field. It would also reinforce the importance of climate resilience in the Indo-Pacific region regardless of political shifts within NATO’s membership.

NATO underlined its emphasis on climate risks by releasing a third annual Climate Change and Security Impact Assessment Report on the first day of the summit being held in Washington from 9 to 11 July. Meanwhile, the new NATO Climate Change and Security Centre of Excellence celebrated its recent accreditation. The report details widespread threats that climate change poses to NATO’s operating domains and geographic regions, and it contributes an analysis of climate risks facing such strategic competitors as Russia and China.

Australia’s contribution to NATO climate work is conspicuously absent, despite the alliance’s excellent efforts in the field, the importance of climate to Australia’s national security, and NATO’s expanding partnerships in the Indo-Pacific. While NATO’s assessment of climate and security risks has moved ahead, Australia and its partners are missing a chance to contribute knowledge of their region and to be better informed on how climate change is affecting operations.

Prioritising climate change in security relationships may seem difficult at a time of many other pressing global security crises, not to mention political complications. There’s a common misconception that climate is a future problem, however.

In fact, its impacts are already here and will become more intense and costly the longer we delay preparation and emission reduction. The past 12 months have seen global temperature records consistently at 1.5°C above 1850–1900 levels. These are the warmest conditions humanity has experienced. Disaster intensity and frequency have risen rapidly, evidenced by the record-breaking heatwaves across many regions of the globe in recent months. While we’ve begun to make gains to rule out worst-case scenarios, we still need deeper emissions cuts to avoid truly dangerous global average temperature increases of 2.5–2.9°C.

A quick glance at NATO’s latest report shows how these effects can translate into urgent direct concerns for military operations and societal resilience.

Airlift capacity (including for Australia’s fleet of C-17 Globemaster aircraft) will decrease as air temperatures increase. Helicopter lift capacity is lost particularly when temperature exceeds a critical level of 40°C. This raises problems not just for military logistics but for humanitarian assistance and disaster response across an increasingly disaster-affected Indo-Pacific region.

Military facilities and infrastructure will be tested, and maritime assets will face higher maintenance as sea levels rise and stronger storms increase wave heights and erosion. Extreme heat affects both infrastructure and equipment (as was demonstrated at a Greek air force base last year when wildfire heat detonated ammunition stores) and personnel.

The NATO report raises myriad other concerning risks for military capabilities, from weather effects on space launches to the cybersecurity vulnerability of increasingly networked energy infrastructure and influences on submarine detection and equipment stealth characteristics.

Meanwhile, greater frequency and intensity of natural disasters will stretch civil response services and impose greater demand on armed forces. Australia’s 2023 Defence Strategic Review noted that this had already put the country’s armed forces under greater pressure. The government is looking at how to unload them. The Australian Defence Force cannot be expected to attend sustainably to domestic and foreign disaster relief and its core function of defence, but will continue to face these pressures until it finds a lasting solution.

Layered onto this, the compounding and cascading systemic risks that climate will exacerbate globally—rising disruptions to food, water, energy security, supply chains and people movements, and impacts from energy transition—will strain societies and raise further pressure on militaries to support civil responses. These matters require a whole-of-society response in national adaptation and disaster management arrangements, with militaries playing an important but far from all-encompassing role.

We will need to deepen our knowledge of our strategic competitors’ climate risks. In its report, NATO has taken a brief look, noting that Russia and China face significant impacts domestically, with varying degrees of preparedness. Better understanding their climate-change preparedness, in addition to their roles in energy transition, will help us interpret their future resilience. That in turn has implications for security dynamics in the Indo-Pacific, including humanitarian assistance and disaster response capabilities, and impacts on global food, energy and supply chain systems.

Collaboration with NATO by the IP4 is justified by these issues alone, but it would also be a way to emphasise Indo-Pacific climate issues in the event of Donald Trump regaining the US presidency.

Consider the risks that a return of Trump would pose for climate efforts at this critical point of balancing future emissions and preparing for climate-change impacts, particularly for Australia and Pacific island partners.

US Department of Defense studies on climate and security have produced assessments and advice that have helped lead the way for practical adaptation efforts in the national security sector. Similarly, US climate science provides services and data that are critical to global research efforts. US military capability and Indo-Pacific and transatlantic interests will suffer if a renewed Trump administration kneecaps the Pentagon’s ability to assess climate risks and degrades climate research. If the US lessens its support for climate response among Pacific island countries, China may fill the gap.

Engaging with and shoring up support for NATO’s climate and security work as a partner is a way of improving Australia’s understanding and communication of climate risks to NATO members. And it is a necessary and helpful mechanism for promoting a sustained focus on climate-change among NATO countries regardless of the US election outcome. With the rising threat that climate poses as a backdrop to our increasingly challenging global security environment, this is a no-brainer.

 

Tag Archive for: Nato

In-conversation with H.E. Boris Ruge

Tag Archive for: Nato

Stop the World: Strategic shifts with Thijs van der Plas, Anita Nergaard and Scott M. Oudkirk

In the latest episode of Stop the World, ASPI’s Executive Director Justin Bassi is joined by Netherlands Ambassador to NATO Thijs van der Plas, Norway’s Ambassador to NATO Anita Nergaard and the US Chargé d’affaires to NATO Scott M. Oudkirk. 

Since Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014, NATO has undergone a strategic shift with increased collective defence spending and the expansion of the alliance to include Finland and Sweden. This conversation explores NATO’s recent evolution and how Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine contributed to it. 

Justin, Thijs, Anita and Scott also discuss the current state of the war in Ukraine and whether the conflict is headed towards a stalemate, or if there is a credible path towards a Ukrainian victory. They also talk about China’s role in enabling the Russian war effort, the introduction of North Korean troops into the conflict and how to deter Russia’s increasing hybrid warfare. 

Finally, they explore NATO’s relationship with the Indo-Pacific, including its ties with the Indo-Pacific Four countries – Australia, Japan, the Republic of Korea and New Zealand – and they discuss the indivisibility of Euro-Atlantic and Indo-Pacific security. 

Guests:
Thijs van der Plas
Anita Nergaard
Scott M. Oudkirk

Stop the World: TSD Summit Sessions: Strengthening peace and stability with Baiba Braže

In the second video edition of The Sydney Dialogue Summit Sessions, ASPI’s Executive Director Justin Bassi sits down with Latvia’s Minister of Foreign Affairs Baiba Braže. Justin and Baiba discuss the partnership between the Euro-Atlantic and the Indo-Pacific, and how democracies can work together to strengthen regional and global stability.

They also discuss Russia and China’s “no-limits partnership”, how Beijing is enabling Russia’s war on Ukraine through the provision of technological supplies, and what countries like Australia and Latvia can do to maintain the rules-based international order. Minister Braže was a panellist at The Sydney Dialogue, ASPI’s premier policy summit for critical, emerging and cyber technologies, held on September 2 and 3. This special episode is the second in a series of podcasts filmed on the sidelines of the conference, which will be released in the coming weeks.

Check out ASPI’s YouTube channel here to watch the full video

Stop the World: TSD Summit Sessions: Countering hybrid threats with NATO Deputy Assistant Secretary General James Appathurai

The countdown to the Sydney Dialogue (TSD) is on!  
 
In the second episode of ASPI’s TSD Summit Sessions, Justin Bassi, Executive Director of ASPI, speaks to James Appathurai, NATO’s Deputy Assistant Secretary General for Innovation, Hybrid and Cyber on all things tech, innovation, security and democracy.  
 
Justin and James discuss hybrid threats in the context of challenges in Europe and the Indo-Pacific, and how democracies in both regions need to work together to prevent and respond to these increasing activities. They explore the impact of technological innovation on security, the rise of artificial intelligence and deep fakes and the risks to democracies, including in elections.  
 
They discuss the challenges posed by Russia and China and how they are harnessing technology to achieve their goals. The conversation canvasses the need for a strategy of deterrence, not just in relation to conflict, but to counter threats below the threshold of war. Such a strategy will require some offence, not just defence, to protect both domestic democratic processes and the international rules-based order.  
 
Note: This episode was recorded prior to the NATO Summit, which took place in Washington DC on 9-11 July.  
 
Guests:  
Justin Bassi 
James Appathurai