Subscribe to our weekly newsletters for free

Subscribe to an email

If you want to subscribe to World & New World Newsletter, please enter
your e-mail

Defense & Security
Bricked wall with stop terrorism sign

Causes of women involement in terrorism

by Eraj Farooqui

AbstractThis paper explores the complex factors that contribute to women's participation in terrorism, a subject that has attracted more scholarly interest, particularly in the wake of 9/11. The discipline is nonetheless politicised and divided despite a great deal of study, which is frequently made worse by a lack of primary data. Women, who are typically thought of as quiet and non-violent, have taken on important roles in terrorist groups, especially during the 1990s, where they have participated in high-profile attacks and leadership roles. The study identifies the main factors: political, religious, personal, and gender equality—that motivate women's participation. Examples show how different organisations differ in that some encourage women to participate actively, while others limit their positions. The study also examines how terrorism has changed over time, with a particular emphasis on its gendered aspects, and assesses how contemporary organisations such as the Islamic State have reshaped the roles of women in terrorist networks. Finally, by illuminating the ideological, cultural, and societal factors that lead to women's radicalisation and involvement, this research offers an in-depth examination of the relationship between gender and terrorism.Keywords:  Terrorism , Women , Political , Religion , Personal , Gender-equality Introduction The reasons behind female terrorism have been extensively studied and debated by numerous academics. Even though there is a wealth of study, a substantial portion of it is contradictory or incomplete. Frequently, the highly politicised word of terrorism has led to contradictory claims in the research. To understand why individuals resort to women terrorism, scholars highlight political, religious, social, and personal causes. In our culture, women were seen as housewives and peaceful members of society, and terrorist groups were controlled by men. Research on women and terrorism can be done on a variety of subjects; however, this paper will mostly focus on the causes of why women participate in terrorism. After 9/11 the academic research on scholarly papers on terrorism have increased by 300% since 9/11.[1] The connection between terrorism and gender is often overlooked due to governments' reluctance to reveal the primary causes and the reluctance to provide reliable data. Researchers often avoid original sources for security reasons. A 2009 review by Karen Jacques and Paul J. Taylor found a reluctance to describe events, excessive narrative analysis, and reliance on secondary sources. [2] The word "terror" comes from the Latin verb "terrere" which means to frighten. It was originally used by the Romans in 105 B.C. to characterise the terror that engulfed Rome during the attack by the Cibri tribe. During the French Revolution’s Reign of Terror, Maximilien Robespierre incited fear among the people.[3]The word "terrorist" was used by Edmund Burkey in the Regicide Peace letter. With the end of Reign of Terror, the word ‘terrorism’ gained popularity.[4] Terrorism, a deliberate use of force or intimidation, is a significant issue in the 21st century, often driven by ideological, religious, or political factors. However, the term "terrorism" has no widely recognised definition. There are four distinct stages of modern terrorism. The first wave of terrorism began in Russia and spread to Western Europe and the United States, using revolutionary and anarchist beliefs.[5]  The final wave is founded on religious beliefs that the world is currently dealing with. This wave started in 1979 when Iran underwent an Islamic revolution. Because of gender norms, terrorists are frequently perceived as masculine attackers. Women are perceived as powerless, passive, and victims during times of conflict, but it is important to remember that if they participate in terrorism, they may pose a greater threat than men.[6]And since 1990, women have gained prominence in terrorist organisations, assuming leadership positions and taking part in more brutal assaults. More media attention is given to female attackers, and people are more curious about the motivations behind their actions. Additionally, terrorist organisations are recruiting more women as a result of this. Although they have historically been involved in terrorist organisations, women's numbers have been small. As an example, the number of female suicide attackers has surged from eight in the 1980s to well over 100 since 2000, indicating a growth in the involvement of women in terrorist actions.[7]  On the other hand as per Bloom’s report over 257 suicide attacks were carried out by female bombers between 1985 and 2010, accounting for 25% of all terrorist incidents. Since 2002, the proportion of female bombers in several nations has surpassed 50%.[8]The first known incidence of female political violence happened in 1878, when Zasulich shot Fedor Trepov, the governor of Saint Petersburg. David Rapoport identified this as one of the four waves of modern terrorism.[9] Weinberg and Eubank claim that women have primarily assumed leadership positions in left-wing revolutionary bands while being assigned to inferior positions in right-wing organisations. They mostly perform supporting and auxiliary functions for numerous religious institutions. [10]Gender, Palestinian Women, and Terrorism: Women's Liberation or Oppression? was written by Anat Berko and Edna Erez. stated that during his questioning, he discovered that many Palestinian men did not approve of women participating in suicide bombings because they saw them as inferior to men.[11] After doing study with a local terrorist organisation, Jacques and Taylor chose 30 male and female suicide bombers. He finished by studying the fact that males prefer to join terrorist organisations for religious and nationalistic reasons, but female suicide terrorists are motivated by personal ones. Mia Bloom’s book the Bombshell: Women and Terrorism examines the motivations of women who participate in terrorism,[12] with an emphasis on relationships, respect, revenge, and redemption. According to Vetter and Perlstein, one of the reasons why women join terrorist organisations is because of gender equality. However, Jacques and Taylor disagree with this notion.[13]The main reason women join the LTTE is to fight for gender equality; they participate in every aspect of the group and do so to avoid being discriminated against and repressed by the male-dominated society.  The following studies will provide an academic perspective on the causes of women's involvement in terrorism. The main focus will be on four causes: political, religious, personal, and gender equality, as well as a list of important terror occurrences conducted by female terrorists as a result of some key ideological beliefs. Religious Cause: Religious convictions have been the foundation of many terrorist organisations throughout history. The Crusaders can be categorised as a terrorist group. Although the Crusaders' main objective was to propagate Christianity, they also committed heinous acts of terrorism. The Iranian Revolution of 1979 was the fourth wave of contemporary terrorism, and David Rapport claims that it was the first instance of religious terrorism in the modern era. Religious terrorism's core principle is the promotion of violence in the name of furthering religious beliefs. For example, Al-Qaeda and ISIS promote an Islamic caliphate globally.[14] However, attempting to do so by using cruel and aggressive methods. Islam and terrorism have become more associated since 9/11, as terrorist organisations have posed a serious threat to Western ideologies and societal influences.[15] Gonzalez-Perez notes that suicide bombers frequently use the idea of martyrdom and benefits in the afterlife to lure people into justifying their acts.[16] Women are also part of religious terrorist organisations but there are two argument over women involvement in jihadi group. As explaind by Muhammad Khayr Haykal in his book Al-Jihad wa al-qital fi al-siyasah al-shar'iyyah. 1. Women were seen as having a responsibility in raising money for Jihadis, caring for children, and providing medical treatment.[17] 2.    The Islamic state should set up training facilities for women to learn how to wield weapons and combat techniques, according to Islamic legal expert Muhammad Khayr Haykal. According to him, all Muslims should be held accountable for jihad if it turns into fard ‘ayn, and women must be prepared for this possibility in order to perform their duty. This strategy permits the practice of female jihadism in martyrdom missions and on the battlefield.[18] Role of women in Al-Qaeda According to Robet Pape in his book Dying to Win: The Strategic Logic of Suicide Terrorism.[19]Highlights that male terrorists affiliated with Al-Qaeda oppose women's participation in terrorism. However the Tamil Tigers used twenty-three female attackers, the Palestinians used six, the Lebanese used six, the Chechens used fourteen, and the PKK used ten. Consequently, he concluded that Islamic fundamentalists oppose female fighters.[20] However, after the rise of the Islamic state, which encourages women to join their organisation and accept arms, the Pape argument is no longer regarded as legitimate. For example, some 200 women joined the Islamic State in Syria in 2014 after migrating from Western nations. Additionally, they more than doubled their numbers in 2015, reaching over 550 women.[21] This suggests that the Islamic State may assign women a direct role, such as suicide bombing, in a way that is different from that of many other jihadist organisations, such as the Taliban and Al Qaeda.  In Al-Qaeda the women played a secondary role for.e.g: Al Qaeda also benefited strategically from the assistance that women provided. For instance, the female terrorists of Al Qaeda were strongly using the internet to try to convince men to join the worldwide Jihad. Some males are inclined to join these groups because they feel ashamed of their masculinity as a result of these communication strategies.[22]Women's roles in jihadist organisations are valued in that they bear children and raise them to be potential recruits for terrorist organisations. Usama Bin Laden thanked women by saying: "You have inspired and encouraged [men] to join jihad, and you have raised all the men who fought in Palestine, Lebanon, Afghanistan, and Chechnya, and you are the ones who produced the squadron of heroic men who carried out the raids in New York and Washington."[23] On the other hand Ayman al-Zawahiri's wife, Umayma al-Zawahiri, also urged her "Muslim sisters" to raise their kids on the love of jihad in God's way and "to induce their brothers, husbands, and sons to protect Muslims' lands and properties. To support (male) jihadists with prayers and financial support. [24] Al Khansa'a was one of the authors of the online magazine that inspired Muslim sisters with her articles; while she did not advocate for women to fight in combat, she did counsel them to stay in shape and exercise so they would be prepared for jihad.[25] Al-Qaeda Iraq's founder and Al-Qaeda member Abu Musab al Zarqawi urged Iraqi women to join the military. In Talafa, Iraq, a US military recruiting centre was the target of the first female suicide bomber. According to the announcement made by al Qaeda in Iraq on its website, "A blessed sister carried out a brave strike defending her beliefs. May God include our sister among the group of martyrs.’’[26]According to Mia Bloom the attack was carried out under the alias "ghost group" because it was still forbidden for Al Qaeda Central to collaborate with women on suicide bombings.[27] The identities of male suicide bombers are mentioned by AQI members, but the names of female suicide bombers are never mentioned. As a result, it is challenging to determine the purpose or driving force for their membership in terrorist organisations. Despite the lack of data regarding female suicide bombers, certain enquiries and interviews provide us with comparable reasons why they chose to join AQI as female terrorists. After losing a loved one, women join terrorist organisations in order to kill the offender and get revenge for the deaths of their husbands and brothers. Furthermore, AQI members urged young females to die as martyrs, claiming that they would immediately enter heaven and be the prophet Muhammad's neighbours.[28] Al-Qaeda is therefore mostly a male organisation that discourages women from engaging in violent activities. Women's roles are limited to becoming teachers, fund-raisers, social media advocates, and moms of potential jihadists. Role of women in Islamic State(IS) Islamic State was founded in 1999. The Islamic State had the greatest number of foreign terrorist fighters in history, making it a unique terrorist organisation. About 41,490 foreign nationals from 8 nations joined the Islamic State with the goal of restoring the caliphate. Of the foreign terrorist fighters, about 4761 (13%) were female. Following Eastern Europe (44%), Western Europe (42%), the Americas, Australia, and New Zealand (36%), and other regions, Eastern Asia had the greatest percentage (70%) of women connected with the Islamic State.[29] The biggest motivation for joining an Islamic terrorist organisation is religion. Women typically played a supporting role in Islamic terrorist organisations prior to the rise of the Islamic State. However, the role of women in these organisations has grown stronger after the fall of Al-Qaeda and the rise of Islamic State in the Middle East. Muriel Dagauque, a Muslim woman who converted to Islam and was married to a Muslim man, was one of the Islamic State suicide bombers. She moved to Iraq with her spouse from Europe in order to become a martyr, and on November 9, 2005, she bombed herself.[30] Many jihadist suicide bombers are comforted by the assurance that they will be sitting next to God (Allah), experiencing only joy and no agony, before the first drop of their blood ever hits the earth.[31]Women joined the Islamic State mostly for religious reasons. Umm Layth, also known as Aqsa Mahmood, was a 21 year old Scottish university student who travelled to Syria to take part in Islamic State terrorist activities. Mahmood expressed her opinions on jihad with the following sentences.: "If not you, then your grandkids or their grandchildren. But do not worry, our cubs will eventually shed your blood. This Islamic dominion will become well-known and dreaded all over the world. Choose a side; this is a fight against Islam. You may either support them or support us.''[32] Role of women Chechnya Terrorism: Islam is the predominant religion in Chechnya, and Wahhabist terror ideology is linked to Chechen terrorism, particularly suicide terrorism.[33]The Wahhabi sect appears to have spread to the Chechen territories through other terror cells in the Middle East, such as al Qaeda.[34] This ideology which glorifies martyrdom and promotes jihad in order to establish a worldwide Muslim caliphate is a rationale for carrying out acts of retaliation and acting on behalf of a national separatist movement.[35] Chechen women, due to their Islamic influence, often wear black and traditional Muslim clothing, such as a head scarf or jilbab, which allows them to conceal weapons and bombs, as seen in the Dulbrov theatre incident.[36] Religion is one factor that contributes to women joining terrorist organisations, but it is not the only one; other factors also play a role. Political Cause According to Gus Martin, terrorism can occur under a variety of circumstances when there is political repression. First, the group is resentful of the injustices they perceive in society. The group also believes that their social dissent is insignificant. Last but not least, the group believes that there are problems with the system that can be fixed, which leads them to confront the conflict.[37] Despite the widespread belief that women do not participate in political violence, women have been planning attacks and taking part in political violence since 1800.[38] Violence is a tactic used by women who are dissatisfied with the government, have their opinions ignored, and are under-represented in organisational structures With anarchist and revolutionary beliefs, anarchism was the beginning point of the first wave of contemporary terrorism, which swept from Western Europe to America. Nonetheless, women's political motive persisted until the second wave of terrorism, when nationalism emerged as the primary driver of women's participation in terrorism.[39] However, they were only allowed to serve as scouts and messengers during the second wave of terrorism. David Rapoport claims that because women once again assumed leadership roles, there are some similarities between the first and second waves.[40] Vera Zasulich shot the governor of St. Petersburg; she said that she had a political purpose for doing so because the governor was well-known for his Polish insurrection and had ordered to execute political prisoner Arkhip Bogolyubov. This infuriated the revolutionary forces, and six people made the decision to kill the governor, but Zasulich was the first to take the initiative. This was the beginning of the first wave of terrorism. Despite the fact that women participated in political violence, her case is notable as the first instance of female political violence in the modern era or the first to be acknowledged. [41] Russian university students founded the group, which specifically targeted political figures. Vera Figner and Gesia Gelfman, Sofia Perovskaya, and three ladies from Narodnaya Volya had a key role in the March 13, 1881, assassination of Russian Emperor Alexander II in St. Petersburg.[42] The reason behind this act was that Tsar Alexander II released his renowned Emancipation Manifesto in 1861 after the Russian intellectuals struggled to achieve their demands. This was intended to end the peasantry's enslavement and, if feasible, bring about a new, more liberal era. Perovskaya and other disappointed reformers decided to accelerate change as it became evident that this new age was a false dawn. As a result, hundreds of revolutionaries left St Petersburg in 1874 to tour the Russian countryside and read pamphlets to the peasants about socialism, nihilism, and anarchism in an attempt to educate them for the day when they would destroy the Tsar.[43] In 1954 the Algerian muslim formed a group called National Liberation Front. Their major goal was to achieve independence from the colonial power France. FLN rose to prominence thanks to its female members, Zohra Drif, Dajmila Bouhard, and Samia Lakhdar. They were able to cross the French checkpoint and leave bombs in various locations, and as a result, three people died in an explosion on September 3, 1956, and several others were injured.[44]This movement occurred at the time of second wave of contemporary terrorism which was based on the idea of nationalism and anticolonialism. As per reports between 1970 and 1984, 451 Italian women joined terrorist organisations and then engaged in political violence. The bulk of these women had degrees and performed identical duties to those of male terrorists, they found, with 35% of them being students, 23% being clerks, secretaries, nurses, technicians, and 20% being instructors. A paramilitary group called Red Brigade was established in 1970 and was engaged in terrorist activities around the nation. Because it supported Italy's withdrawal from NATO and dominated the Marixist-Leninist worldview. Known for its kidnapping and murderous activities, Red Brigades also killed former Italian Prime Minister Aldo Moro and abducted James L. Dozier, a senior US officer at NATO. Barbara Balzerian had murdered him. Many female members of the Red Brigades participated in the group's violent assaults, and Margherita Cagol (Mara), one of the Red Brigade's co-founders and one of the first victim in an armed conflict with the police, became a symbol of the left-wing movement.[45]The most violent communist organisation throughout the 1970s and 1980s was the Red Army Faction which engaged in ideologically motivated terrorism in West Germany. Ulrike Meinhof and Gudrun Ensslin, co-founders, protested consumerism by burning a department store in Frankfurt in 1968.[46] A major problem is the Chechen people's desire for independence from Russia, which is driven by their nationalist and separatist beliefs. In the lengthy history of the Chechen Republic, Russians, have been the target of several violent attacks. Since June 7, 2000, Khava Barayeva and Luisa Magomadova stormed the temporary headquarters of an elite OMON (Russian Special Forces) squad in Alkhan Yurt, Chechnya, sparking the start of Chechnya's "Black Widows" movement. With two fatalities and five injuries, the incident brought attention to the group's notorious actions.[47]According to the report, women were responsible for 47% of all terrorist incidents and 81% of suicide attacks in the Chechen region between 2000 and 2005.[48] For more than 30 years, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) battled the Sri Lankan central government, mostly because of the Tamil minority's ethnic oppression. Their goal was to establish their own nation in Sri Lanka's north and east.[49] The use of female suicide bombers and the LTTE's high proportion of female members were well-known. The proportion of female LTTE members varied between 20 and 30 percent, with some estimates reaching as high as 50 percent in certain years.[50]According to LTTE theorist Anton Balasingham's wife, Adele Ann, a Tamil woman's decision to join the group was a sign to society that she was dissatisfied with the status quo and had the ability to rebel against authority.[51]To sum up, female revolutionaries have contested the idea that they are less capable of committing acts of terrorism or have less political clout, and. Additionally, nationalism and revolution are the main goals of the majority of terrorist organisations that are focused on women. Personal reason Personal causes, such as revenge, family instability, rape, personal tragedy, and revenge, are important motivations for the individual to join terrorism. Women are more likely to cite these as their original motivation in joining terrorist organizations than men. Mia Bloom, Jaques and Taylor, and Robert Pape have all proposed that the reasons behind female terrorists are different from those of male terrorists. According to them, the emotions of female terrorists such as family problems, discontent, and the desire to commit suicide are what motivate them. These motivations are further divided by Bloom into four categories: respect, relationship, revenge, and redemption. [52] 1. Women who experience sexual assault, including rape, may retaliate violently; some may even choose suicide bombing as a last resort. After women were raped in Iraq, Samira Ahmad Jassim, dubbed the "mother" of suicide bombers, was accused of encouraging rape victims to commit honour suicide and conducting 28 suicide attacks, according to the Die Welt article..[53] 2. During the Chechen War, Russian soldiers sexually assaulted many Chechen women. According to estimates from Doctors Without Borders, 85 percent of Chechen women experienced sexual assault at the hands of law enforcement and military during the Chechen War. Journalist Svetlana Makunina claims that after being drugged and raped, Chechen women were left with no choice but to commit suicide bombing.On the evening of May 21, 1991, LTTE suicide bomber Dhanu killed former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi at an election rally in Sriperumbudur, Tamil Nadu. She clarified that she took this action after being gang-raped by Indian peacekeeping troops. 3. Another crucial element that encourages women to join terrorist groups is relationships. Family members and relatives, who are important in the recruitment process, could function as a conduit between the terror group and women. Sidney Jones claims that while some women freely choose to wed male terrorists, others are coerced by their relatives.[54] Many women join ISIS for a variety of reasons, including a desire to contribute to the caliphate, a desire for friendship with like-minded individuals, or direct pressure by family members and acquaintances.[55] For e.g., Shamima Begum was influenced by her friend Sharmena to join IS. Barbara Victor, Army of Roses: Inside the World of Palestinian Women Suicide Bombers stated that instead of acting on their own initiative, female Palestinian suicide bombers are “at the mercy of, or in love with, their handlers.”[56] (women join terrorist organisations because they are forced by male) 4. Guillermo Galdos, and “Eliana Gonzales,” points out that male influence is not an essential prerequisite for recruiting women into violent organizations. In order to join revolutionary movements, women have reported willingly leaving their boyfriends, husbands, and kids. The oldest woman in Columbia's Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia (FARC), Eliana Gonzales Acosta, for instance, abandoned her husband, sister, and daughter to join the group.[57] 5. Many people who have been directly impacted by the acts of another group resort to terrorism. The revenge theory is the name given to this. An individual is more inclined to engage in terrorism if they have lost a friend or loved one to a terrorist organisation or the military.[58] Additionally, according to Jacques and Taylor, revenge influences people's decision to join terrorist groups.[59] In literature and art, the stereotype that women are more revengeful than males is mirrored. According to William Cosgrove's The Mourning Bride, "Heaven is furious, like love turned to hate, and Hell is furious, like a woman scorned.”[60]Russian negotiator suggests the difference between men and women is that “[Chechen women] are ‘zombified’ by their own sorrow and grief.[61] The Russian and international press called Chechen women bombers "Black Widows" as it was revealed that many were acting in retribution for the deaths of their husbands, kids, and brothers.[62]Since the takeover of the Dubrovka Theatre in October 2002, nineteen female bombers have appeared in black mourning garments with bombs attached to their bodies. They held 850 people hostage for two and a half days. Until Russian forces imposed persecution on the people and executed the terrorist. While these motivations were not limited to revenge or family difficulties, they were also gender specific. There are more men killed in these battles, resulting in an imbalance of women battling for retribution. Furthermore, women constitute the majority of rape victims in these communities, which motivates them to join. Gender Equality: According to Vetter and Perlstein, one of the reasons why women join terrorist organisations is because of gender equality. However, Jacques and Taylor disagree with this notion.[63]FARC, or Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, was established to combat societal inequality and provide women with opportunities for advancement. Despite being predominantly dominated by women, the organization offers women's rights, sexual freedom, and opportunities for advancement in a patriarchal society.[64] FARC recruits in rural areas, where women often have fewer opportunities, highlighting the organization's societal focus on women's rights.[65]A woman who had spent many years of her life in the FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia—Ejército del Pueblo, or Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia—People's Army) was interviewed by Anne Phillips in 2012.[66]For the numerous reasons mentioned above, this woman, code-named "Athena," joined the FARC before turning thirteen. She explains why she joined this group  as it provides gender equality. She had economic reasons because she was from a rural area and lacked access to economic and educational opportunities. Women in Colombia's rural communities face a lack of opportunities, which leads to prostitution. Many women turn to the FARC as a viable alternative to prostitution. The FARC gives women a stable income. Women turn to the FARC because they are guaranteed food and other requirements. They are given the same opportunities as males and are able to support themselves. Also, by women joining terrorist organizations they are challenging gender stereotypes in their societies. O’Rourke says that women dislike these gender norms and rise out against them in opposition of the stereotyped female in their culture.[67]The LTTE gives women the same incentive to advance gender equality. According to LTTE women, they felt liberated and empowered within the organisation. By establishing sexual limitations and providing equal training chances, the LTTE established an environment that was equal for men and women. Women held leadership roles inside the LTTE and believed they were on par with the men themselves. Often, women join these groups to either learn about or escape gender inequality. CONCLUSION: The primary goal of this article was to examine the primary motivator for women to join terrorist organisations. For more than a century, women have been participating in terrorist activities, but only in recent decades have studies of terrorism examined female terrorists. Political, religious, personal, and gender equality are some of the motivations for women to join terrorist groups and participate in liberation movements. Since the 19th century, women have joined a variety of terrorist organisations; some conduct these horrible deeds to defend their beliefs or territory. Religion is another reason these women wish to sacrifice themselves in the name of Islam. They act in this way because they believe that, despite their crimes, they will be admitted to heaven if they commit murder for Islam. Women's terrorist operations might occasionally be motivated by personal issues. Although forced marriage, family issues, rape, the death of a loved one, and defiance of the patriarchal society are some of the main causes, other traumas could also influence their choices. However, each of the four factors has a major impact on women's decision to participate in terrorism. Al-Qaeda and Islamic State, for example, are heavily influenced by religion. The Tamil Tigers and FARC, on the other hand, are primarily driven by personal motives and gender equality. Furthermore, the political cause of Red Brigade and the National Liberation Front has been their main source of motivation. "Personal, political, and religious motivations are the main cause behind women's involvement in terrorism," claim Cunningham and Bloom. In order to curb terrorists' actions in the modern world, it is critical to comprehend their objectives and the reason behind their organisation. Furthermore, since many highly educated women have joined terrorist organisations, we cannot claim that education may have a major influence. There is extremely little research on gender and terrorism, particularly on women's participation in terrorist actions. To determine the primary reason women, participate in terrorism, we must conduct additional research in this field. Due to the fact that the information offered is highly generalised. What steps should the government take to prevent women from joining terrorist organisations? What other variables might encourage women to join terrorist organisations? Researchers from all social science fields should conduct some research on these pressing concerns as political scientists alone are unable to provide these answers. Bibliography[1] Jessica Shepherd, “The Rise and Rise of Terrorism Studies,” last modified July 3, 2007, accessed December 10, 2024, https://www.theguardian.com/education/2007/jul/03/highereducation.research.[2] Jessica Shepherd, “The Rise and Rise of Terrorism Studies,” last modified July 3, 2007, accessed December 10, 2024, https://www.theguardian.com/education/2007/jul/03/highereducation.research.[3] Ariel Merari, Driven to Death: Psychological and Social Aspects of Suicide Terrorism, 1st ed. (NewYork: Oxford University Press, 2010).[4]Zeynep Bayar, “The Role of Women in Terrorism,” City University of New York (CUNY) , accessed December 15, 2024, https://academicworks.cuny.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4346&context=gc_etds.[5] David Rapoport, The Four Waves of Modern Terrorism (Washington DC: Georgetown University Press, 2004), 46–73.[6] “Women and Terrorist Radicalization Final Report,” Organization for Security and Co-Operation in Europe (Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, January 1, 2013), last modified January 1, 2013, accessed December 13, 2024, https://www.osce.org/files/f/documents/4/a/99919.pdf.[7] LindseyA O’Rourke, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism?,” Security Studies 18, no. 4 (December 2, 2009): 682.[8] Mia Bloom, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism,” Gender Studies 28, no. 1–2 (June 1, 2011): 682.[9] David Rapopart, The Four Waves of Modern Terrorism (Washington DC: Georgetown University, 2004).[10] Leonard Weinberg and William L Eubank, “Women’s Involvement in Terrorism,” Gender Studies 28, no. 2 (June 2011): 22–49.[11] Anat Berko, “Gender Palestinian Women, and Terrorism: Women’s Liberation or Oppression?,” ed. Edna Erez, Studies in Conflict and Terrorism 30, no. 6 (April 27, 2007): 493–519.[12] Mia Bloom, Bombshell: Women and Terrorism (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011).[13] Karen Jacques and Paul J. Taylor, “Male and Female Suicide Bombers: Different Sexes, Different Reasons?,” Studies in Conflict and Terrorism 31, no. 4 (April 10, 2008).[14] Rosemarie Skaine , Female Suicide Bombers (United Kingdom: McFarland, 2006).[15] Graham Bird, Brock Blomberg, and Gregory Hess, “International Terrorism: Causes, Consequences and Cures,” World Economy 31 (2008): 259.[16] Rosemarie Skaine , Female Suicide Bombers (United Kingdom: McFarland, 2006), 12.[17] Ibn al Bukhari, Sahih Al- Bukhari. Trans Muhammad Muhsin Khan (United States: Islamic University, 1979).[18] Muhammad Khayr Haykal, Jihad and Fighting according to the Shar‘ia Policy (Beirut: Dar al-Barayiq, 1993).[19] Robert A. Pape, Dying to Win: The Strategic Logic of Suicide Terror (NewYork: Random House Books, 2005).[20] Rosemarie Skaine , Female Suicide Bombers (United Kingdom: McFarland, 2006).[21] Erin Marie Saltman and Melanie Smith, Till Martyrdom Do Us Part’: Gender and the ISIS Phenomenon (Institute for Strategic Dialogue, May 22, 2015).[22] Zeynep Bayar, “The Role of Women in Terrorism,” City University of New York (CUNY) , accessed December 15, 2024, https://academicworks.cuny.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4346&context=gc_etds.[23] Nelly Lahoud, “The Neglected Sex: The Jihadis’ Exclusion of Women from Jihad,” Terrorism and Political Violence 26, no. 5 (February 20, 2014).[24] Nelly Lahoud, “Umayma Al-Zawahiri on Women’s Role in Jihad,” Jihadica, last modified February 26, 2010, https://commons.lib.jmu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1422&context=honors201019.[25] Mia Bloom, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism,” Gender Studies 28, no. 1–2 (June 1, 2011).[26] “Woman Suicide Bomber Strikes Iraq,” BB, last modified September 28, 2005, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4289168.stm. [27]Ibid[28] Aqeel Hussein and Damien McElroy, “Mother of All Suicide Bombers’ Warns of Rise in Attacks,” The Telegraph, last modified November 15, 2008, https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/middleeast/iraq/3464411/Mother-of-all-suicide-bombers-warns-of-rise-in-attacks.html.[29] Joana Cook and Gina Vale, From Daesh to “Diaspora”: Tracing the Women and Minors of Islamic State (International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation, 2018).[30] Zeynep Bayar, “The Role of Women in Terrorism,” City University of New York (CUNY) , accessed December 15, 2024, https://academicworks.cuny.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4346&context=gc_etds.[31] Mia Bloom, Bombshell: Women and Terrorism (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011).[32] Susan Swarbrick, “Scots ‘Jihadi Bride’ Talks of ‘Revenge’ in Hate-Filled Blog,” The Herald, last modified July 6, 2015, https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/13415875.scots-jihadi-bride-talks-of-revenge-in-hate-filled-blog/.[33] W. Andy Knight and Tanya Narozhna, “Social Contagion and the Female Face of Terror: New Trends in the Culture of Political Violence,” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal 12, no. 1 (March 14, 2011).[34] Ibid.,33[35] Ibid.,33[36] LindseyA O’Rourke, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism?,” Security Studies 18, no. 4 (December 2, 2009): 690.[37] Gus Martin , Understanding Terrorism: Challenges, Perspectives, and Issues , 8th ed. (SAGE Publications, Inc, 2024), 60.[38] Maha Butt, “Feminist IR Theory and Terrorism,” International Affairs Forum, accessed December 16, 2024, https://www.ia-forum.org/Content/ViewInternal_Document.cfm?contenttype_id=0&ContentID=9152#:~:text=Analyzing%20terrorism%20from%20a%20feminist's,female%20terrorists%20as%20'women%20terrorists..[39] David Rapoport, The Four Waves of Modern Terrorism (Washington DC: Georgetown University Press, 2004), 46–73.[40] Elena Gapova, “Gender Equality vs. Difference and What Post-Socialism Can Teach Us,” Womens Studies International Forum 59 (November 1, 2016).[41] “Vera Zasulich,” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vera_Zasulich#cite_note-5.[42]Elena Gapova, “Gender Equality vs. Difference and What Post-Socialism Can Teach Us,” Womens Studies International Forum 59 (November 1, 2016).[43] James Crossland, “The Women Who Ended an Emperor,” History Workshop, last modified April 21, 2021, https://www.mybib.com/#/projects/39m8D0/citations/new/webpage.[44] Zeynep Bayar, “The Role of Women in Terrorism,” City University of New York (CUNY) , accessed December 15, 2024, https://academicworks.cuny.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4346&context=gc_etds.[45] Ruth Glynn , Approaching Women, Terror, and Trauma in Cultural Perspective, 2013.[46] “Andreas Baader and Ulrike Meinhof,” Encyclopedia.com, accessed January 2, 2025, https://www.encyclopedia.com/history/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/andreas-baader-and-ulrike-meinhof.[47] Anne Speckhard and Khapta Akhmedova, “Black Widows: The Chechen Female Suicide Terrorists,” The Institute for National Security Studies, last modified August 2006, https://www.inss.org.il/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Female-Suicide-Bombers-63-80.pdf.[48] Anne Speckhard and Khapta Ahkmedova, “The Making of a Martyr: Chechen Suicide Terrorism,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 29, no. 5 (September 22, 2006).[49]Peng Wang, “Women in the LTTE: Birds of Freedom or Cogs in the Wheel?,” Journal of Politics and Law 4, no. 1 (2011).[50] Karla J. Cunningham, “Cross-Regional Trends in Female Terrorism,” Studies in Conflict and Terrorism 26, no. 3 (May 2003).[51]“Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE),” South Asia Terrorism Portal, https://www.satp.org/satporgtp/countries/srilanka/terroristoutfits/ltte.htm.[52] Karen Jacques and Paul J. Taylor, “Male and Female Suicide Bombers: Different Sexes, Different Reasons?,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 31, no. 4 (2008).[53]Mia Bloom, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism,” Gender Studies 28, no. 1–2 (June 1, 2011).[54] Sidney Jones, “Inherited Jihadism: Like Father, like Son,” International Crisis Group, last modified July 4, 2007, https://www.crisisgroup.org/asia/south-east-asia/indonesia/inherited-jihadism-father-son.[55] Daniel Milton and Brian Dodwell, “Jihadi Brides? Examining a Female Guesthouse Registry from the Islamic State’s Caliphate,” Combating Terrorism Center 11, no. 5 (May 2018).[56]Edward E. Azar, “Protracted International Conflicts: Ten Propositions,” International Interaction 12, no. 1 (January 9, 2008).[57]“GENDER and TERRORISM: MOTIVATIONS of FEMALE TERRORISTS ,” DNI.gov, https://www.dni.gov/files/documents/FOIA/DF-2023-00139-Gender_and_Terrorism_Thesis.pdf.[58]LindseyA O’Rourke, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism?,” Security Studies 18, no. 4 (December 2, 2009): 710.[59]Karen Jacques and Paul J. Taylor, “Male and Female Suicide Bombers: Different Sexes, Different Reasons?,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 31, no. 4 (2008): 322[60] “GENDER and TERRORISM: MOTIVATIONS of FEMALE TERRORISTS ,” DNI.gov, https://www.dni.gov/files/documents/FOIA/DF-2023-00139-Gender_and_Terrorism_Thesis.pdf.[61]Ibid.,63[62] Anne Speckhard and Khapta Ahkmedova, “The Making of a Martyr: Chechen Suicide Terrorism,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 29, no. 5 (September 22, 2006).[63]Karen Jacques and Paul J. Taylor, “Male and Female Suicide Bombers: Different Sexes, Different Reasons?,” Studies in Conflict & Terrorism 31, no. 4 (2008).[64]Natalia Herrera and Douglas Porch, “‘Like Going to a Fiesta’ – the Role of Female Fighters in Colombia’s FARC-EP,” Small Wars & Insurgencies 19, no. 4 (January 26, 2009).[65]Mia Kazman, “Women of the FARC,” William J.Perry Center, accessed December 23, 2024, https://wjpcenter.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Women-of-the-FARC.pdf[66]Christine Balling, “Why Women Turn to the FARC -- and How the FARC Turns on Them,” Foreign Affairs, last modified June 1, 2012, accessed December 23, 2024, https://www.foreignaffairs.com/articles/colombia/2012-06-01/fighting-mad.[67]LindseyA O’Rourke, “What’s Special about Female Suicide Terrorism?,” Security Studies 18, no. 4 (December 2, 2009): 702

Defense & Security
China Cyber Security Ransomware Email Phishing Encrypted Technology, Digital Information Protected Secured. 3d illustration

Chinese cyberespionage: The Invisible War That Threatens the West

by Gabriele Iuvinale

On March 4, the U.S. Department of Justice charged ten Chinese nationals with carrying out massive hacks against government agencies, media outlets, and dissidents in the United States and around the world. They allegedly acted on behalf of the Chinese company i-Soon, under contract from the Beijing government. Two officials from China’s Ministry of Public Security (MPS) were also indicted, identified as the ones “directing the attacks.” According to documents held by the U.S. justice system, China’s domestic intelligence services (MPS) and foreign intelligence (Ministry of State Security, MSS) relied on a vast network of private companies and domestic contractors to hack and steal information, thereby masking the Chinese government’s direct involvement. In some cases, the MPS and MSS paid private hackers to target specific victims. In many others, the attacks were speculative: hackers identified vulnerable computers, breached them, and extracted information that was later sold — either directly or indirectly — to the Chinese government. The Growth of Chinese Cyberespionage and Its Main Areas of Operation This is not an isolated case. Over the past decade, the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) hacking program has expanded rapidly. In 2023, then-FBI Director Christopher Wray stated that it was larger than that of all other world powers combined. This increase in power and sophistication has led to success in three key areas: political interference, sabotage of critical infrastructure, and large-scale intellectual property theft. Beijing integrates computer networks, electronic warfare, economic, diplomatic, legal, military, intelligence, psychological, and military deception resources, along with security operations, to weaken states, make them economically dependent on China, and more receptive to a “new authoritarian world order with Chinese characteristics.” For this reason, unlike traditional interpretations, Chinese state-sponsored hacking should be understood within a broader context — where control over technology, strategic infrastructure, and global supply chains is part of “trans-military” and “non-military” warfare operations, as described by two People’s Liberation Army (PLA) colonels in the 1999 book “Unrestricted Warfare”. This approach is known as liminal warfare — an escalating conflict in which the spectrum of competition and confrontation with the West is so wide that the battlefield is, quite literally, everywhere. Cyberespionage as a Tool of Electronic Warfare In electronic warfare, hacking is used for sabotage during times of crisis or conflict. These actions are led by the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), the armed wing of the Chinese Communist Party. In 2023, it was discovered that a hacker group linked to the PLA, known as “Volt Typhoon”, had infiltrated a wide range of critical infrastructure in the U.S. for years, including ports, factories, and water treatment plants — both on the mainland and in strategic locations like Guam. “Volt Typhoon is a military operation with political and potentially military strategic purposes,” explained Ciaran Martin, former director of the UK’s cybersecurity agency. Led by the PLA’s cyber unit, the operation involved installing readiness capabilities — “digital traps,” as some call them — within critical U.S. infrastructure. In addition to a sustained attack in 2023 on a power company in Massachusetts, which aimed to extract sensitive data about its operational technology (OT) infrastructure, “Volt Typhoon” gained notoriety for multiple attacks on telecommunications systems in the U.S. and other critical infrastructures globally. One of its subunits, “Voltzite”, targeted the Littleton Electric and Water Departments, prompting the FBI and cybersecurity firm Dragos to respond jointly and publish a detailed report on the attack and its mitigation. Intellectual Property Theft Through Cyberespionage The most damaging channel for intellectual property theft is cyberespionage. These intrusions allow Chinese companies — sometimes with direct support from the Communist Party or the state — to access information on operations, projects, and technology from foreign firms. China has used state-backed and coordinated cyberespionage campaigns to steal information from companies in strategic sectors such as oil, energy, steel, and aviation. These actions serve both to acquire science and technology and to gather intelligence useful for future attacks on military, government, or technical systems. In the United States, there have been numerous precedents: • In 2014, five PLA hackers were indicted for economic espionage.• In 2017, three hackers linked to the Chinese firm Boyusec were charged with stealing confidential business information.• In 2018, two Chinese nationals were indicted for intellectual property theft.• In 2020, two hackers connected to the MSS were charged with targeting COVID-19 research. Among these, the 2018 indictment stands out as part of a broader U.S. effort to raise awareness about Chinese cyberespionage. On that occasion, Chinese hackers carried out a campaign known as “Cloud Hopper”, which involved a supply chain attack on service providers like Hewlett Packard and IBM. The defendants worked for Huaying Haitai and collaborated with the Tianjin State Security Bureau of the MSS. In 2017, the U.S. Commission on the Theft of American Intellectual Property estimated that such crimes cost the U.S. economy up to $600 billion annually — a figure comparable to the Pentagon’s defense budget and greater than the combined profits of the 50 largest companies in the Fortune 500. Beyond the United States: The Global Impact of Chinese Cyberespionage In June 2024, Dutch military intelligence (MIVD) warned that Chinese cyberespionage was broader than previously believed, affecting Western governments and defense companies. A 2023 cyberattack on the Dutch Ministry of Defense reportedly affected at least 20,000 people within a few months. In 2018, the Czech Republic’s National Cyber and Information Security Agency (NUKIB) issued a warning about risks linked to China. Since then, the country has strengthened its capabilities and controls against Beijing and has worked on mechanisms to counter foreign information manipulation. According to U.S. prosecutors, dozens of European parliamentarians have been targeted by Chinese attacks. In March 2024, the U.S. Department of Justice indicted hackers linked to the MSS for attacking “all EU members” of the Inter-Parliamentary Alliance on China (IPAC), a coalition critical of Beijing. In 2021, the hackers sent over a thousand emails to around 400 accounts linked to IPAC, attempting to spy on their internet activity and devices. In addition, ASML, the Dutch leader in semiconductor lithography, suffers “thousands of security incidents per year,” including several successful infiltration attempts by Chinese actors. Research centers like Imec (Belgium) are also frequent targets. Belgium has expelled Chinese researchers suspected of espionage. The European Union has reinforced security and identified advanced semiconductors as one of four critical technologies requiring risk assessments and enhanced protection. Notably, APT41 is one of the most active and sophisticated Chinese cyberespionage groups, based in the PRC and linked to the MSS. According to Google’s Threat Intelligence Group, APT41 combines state espionage with ransomware attacks — malicious programs that encrypt files and demand financial ransom to restore them — making attribution more difficult. Unlike other PLA-aligned groups whose operations are region-specific, APT41 acts globally, attacking strategic sectors in the U.S., Europe, Latin America, and the Caribbean. It also carries out financially motivated operations, particularly in the gaming industry. Mandiant, a global cybersecurity leader, highlights APT41’s technical capabilities: it frequently exploits zero-day and n-day vulnerabilities and uses techniques like phishing, social engineering, and SQL injections. Since 2020, APT41 has conducted large-scale campaigns against over 75 companies in more than 20 countries. It is responsible for compromising supply chains, such as in the “ShadowHammer” campaign targeting ASUS, which affected over 50,000 systems in 2018. APT41 is also linked to the use of “MESSAGETAP” malware in telecommunications networks. The Role of Chinese Universities in Cyberespionage Chinese universities also collaborate with the PLA and MSS in state-sponsored cyberespionage operations. Shanghai Jiao Tong University works directly with the Chinese military on such operations. Zhejiang University and the Harbin Institute of Technology are key centers for recruiting hackers. Xidian University offers students hands-on experience at provincial MSS offices and previously maintained ties with the Third Department of the PLA’s General Staff before its reorganization in 2015 into the Network Systems Department. One of its graduate programs is co-directed with the Guangdong Office of the Chinese Information Technology Security Evaluation Center (ITSEC), an MSS-run office that leads an active team of contractor hackers. Southeast University also maintains links with security services and co-manages the “Purple Mountain Lab” with the PLA’s Strategic Support Force. There, researchers collaborate on “critical strategic requirements,” operating systems, and interdisciplinary cybersecurity studies. The university also receives funding from the PLA and MSS to develop China’s cyber capabilities. The Cybersecurity undergraduate program at Shanghai Jiao Tong University (SJTU) is taught at a PLA information engineering base. Within this program, SJTU claims to work on “network and information systems testing and evaluation, security testing for connected smart networks, APT attack and defense testing, and key technologies for cyber ranges.” Universities associated with the MSS for talent recruitment include the University of Science and Technology of China, Shanghai Jiao Tong University, Xi’an Jiao Tong University, Beijing Institute of Technology, Nanjing University, and the Harbin Institute of Technology. In addition, some cybersecurity firms — such as Beijing TopSec — collaborate with the PLA in hacking campaigns, operator training, and developing future hackers. This article was originally published by Agenda Digitale and later by Expediente Abierto, who granted us permission for its translation and republication.

Defense & Security
Chess made from USA, EU and China flags on a white background. Chess made from China, Europe Union and United States of America flags. Trade, tariffs, duty and customs war

Europe’s transatlantic China challenge

by Gesine Weber

Abstract European states currently lack a clear joint strategy on China and a coordinated approach to US–China competition. This article offers a novel perspective on the challenges for European approaches to this issue due to an omnipresent transatlantic component and the risk of an alliance dilemma. Illustratively focusing on France, Germany and the UK, it demonstrates that Europeans are facing a transatlantic alliance dilemma with the risks of abandonment and entrapment. It argues that Europe needs to strike a balance between its dependence on Washington, especially with regard to European security, while fearing entrapment by the US approach towards Beijing as it aims to maintain economic ties with China. The article concludes that the ramifications of this dilemma can be mitigated through a distinctly European approach to China, strengthening European coordination on China and bolstering European strategic autonomy. As a conceptual piece rather than a full empirical analysis, this article therefore unpacks the strategic challenge and lays the groundwork for further empirical works on the topic. Introduction Strategic competition between the US and China plays out in many realms of international affairs, ranging from global trade to security in the Indo-Pacific. European states are directly affected by this dynamic as they maintain critical ties with both sides. Albeit allies of the US through NATO, Europeans have been reluctant to align with the US on its approach to the Indo-Pacific and China, which is currently characterised by the quest to win the strategic competition with Beijing in all areas of international affairs (see Leoni 2023). Furthermore, Europe maintains close economic ties with Beijing, and imports from China to the EU have most recently increased (Lovely and Yan 2024). European governments certainly do not pursue an approach of maintaining equidistance between the US and China: not only do they regularly emphasise their strategic proximity to Washington, but more recent events, such as the willingness of European allies to publicly adopt the wording of the communiqué from NATO’s Washington summit (NATO 2024) describing China as an ‘enabler of Russia’s war effort in Ukraine’, clearly demonstrate that the tone is changing in European capitals (Politi 2023). However, Europeans still tend to emphasise China’s role in global affairs and the importance of including it in multilateral cooperation formats. With the re-election of Donald Trump as US president, European policy on China and its approach to US–China competition will increasingly be a focus of the US administration. While the exact approach of the new US government still remains to be defined, there are good reasons to anticipate a more hawkish China policy from Washington, through which the US might seek not only to further compete with China, but to actually win this competition (see Pottinger and Gallagher 2023). When designing their approaches towards China—which, among the key European states, only Germany has done so far, with the publication of its China strategy in 2023—Europeans always face a transatlantic elephant in the room. US–China competition, a structuring feature of international relations shaping the global order today through the increasing emergence of geopolitical blocs (see Leoni and Tzinieris 2024), and China’s rising global influence in almost all areas of international affairs—ranging from climate to economics, the rules-based order and security—are forcing European states to reflect on their approach vis-à-vis Beijing (for a full discussion, see Oertel 2023; García-Herrero and Vasselier 2024). As NATO members, European states also need to adapt their strategy in light of the partnership with the US as their key ally. This article argues that European approaches towards China, as shown in the examples of France, Germany and the UK, have a distinctly transatlantic component. It illustrates how these three European states find themselves in an alliance dilemma with the US, and how the risks associated with alliances also define European approaches to China and US–China competition more broadly. As the US administration regularly refers to China as a ‘challenge’ (US Department of Defense 2022), this article alludes to this formulation through the coining of the term ‘transatlantic China challenge’ to describe the strategic challenges Europeans are facing with regard to defining their approach vis-à-vis China and US–China competition more broadly. It offers a conceptual understanding of the strategic challenges for Europe in this context and thereby constitutes a basis for a more thorough empirical analysis. The alliance dilemma and European strategy in US–China competition Originating in realist international relations theory, the alliance dilemma generally describes a situation in which states face risks resulting from joining an alliance. As demonstrated by Snyder (1984), smaller allies especially face a parallel risk of abandonment and entrapment by a hegemon, that is, the dominating power, after joining an alliance. Abandonment, in these circumstances, implies that the hegemon has no further interest in defending or supporting the smaller allies, whereas entrapment refers to a situation in which a state is ‘dragged into a conflict over an ally’s interests that [it] does not share, or shares only partially’ (see Snyder 1984, 466–8). In the context of alliances, a small state is ‘the weaker part in an asymmetric relationship, which is unable to change the nature or functioning of the relationship on its own’ (Wivel et al. 2014, 9), and hence has more limited space for action than the great powers (Wivel and Thorhallsson 2018, 267). This definition arguably applies to Europe in its partnership with the US, as demonstrated by the excessive military and economic dominance of the US as compared to the European states (see Stockholm International Peace Research Institute n.d.; International Monetary Fund 2025). The re-election of Trump as US president now presents the risk of an increased alliance dilemma for Europeans. On the one hand, Trump has announced several times that he does not value the alliance commitments within NATO and potentially would not defend European allies (Sullivan 2024), threatening Europe with abandonment. This scenario is being taken seriously in European capitals, and reflections on how ‘defending Europe with less America’ (Grand 2024) could shape up have gained traction, especially in 2024. Similarly, defence initiatives within the EU to enhance the European contribution to the continent’s security have leapt forward in recent years (see Scazzieri 2025). On the other hand, even the Biden administration had pushed Europe to align with the US approach on China (see Lynch et al. 2023). However, France and Germany in particular, as the big EU member states, have been hesitant to do so, as reflected in France’s opposition to the opening of a NATO liaison office in Tokyo (McCurry 2023) and Germany’s vote against tariffs on Chinese electric vehicles, fearing reprisals from Beijing (Demarais 2024). Trump’s foreign policy might be strongly characterised by issue linkage, which means that policies in one area will be linked to those in another area. Through this strategy, the new US administration might force Europeans into alignment and thereby entrap them, making them accept policies they are not eager to support (see Barkin and Kratz 2025). The exact policies of the Trump administration vis-à-vis European allies remain to be seen, but it is not hard to imagine a scenario in which abandonment and entrapment could emerge or increase, namely when the threat of abandonment is used to entrap allies and force them to support certain policy decisions. The alliance dilemma could play out for Europeans specifically when designing their approaches towards China (see Barkin and Kratz 2025) and formulating their response to US–China competition more generally. As noted above, among the big European states, only Germany has formally adopted a strategy on China, in 2023 (The Federal Government of Germany 2023). However, China and the response to US–China competition takes a prominent place in France’s Indo-Pacific Strategy and its strategy review (Government of France 2021; Secrétariat général de la défense et de la sécurité nationale 2022), and the UK systematically included the dimension of strategic competition in its Integrated Review and its refresh (Government of the United Kingdom 2021, 2023) and has announced an ‘audit’ of its China policy under the new government (Taylor 2024). While these strategies emphasise their individual approaches towards China and the risks stemming from US–China competition, the US has increasingly pressured Europe to align with its approach (Lynch et al. 2023) and can be expected to continue this pressure (Barkin and Kratz 2025). Through the potential issue linkage of security (openly questioned by President Trump) and China policy, Europe therefore finds itself in a new form of alliance security dilemma. European approaches to US–China competition: strategic hedging How can Europe respond to the alliance dilemma of the risks of abandonment and entrapment when it comes to its approaches to China? Reviewing the theoretical literature on the alliance dilemma, one can imagine different strategies. According to Snyder, members of alliances can choose between strategies that strengthen or weaken their commitment to the alliance. To demonstrate commitment, actions could include reassurances for the ally or demonstrations of loyalty, whereas actions to weaken the commitment to the alliance could consist of restraining the ally (mostly to reduce the risk of entrapment in a conflict), increasing bargaining power over the ally or preserving options for realignment outside the existing alliance (for a full discussion, see Snyder 1984, 466–9). Alternative strategies include hiding from cooperation, that is, ‘seeking to maximize autonomy by opting out of specific aspects of the cooperation or by setting up “bastions” in the cooperation’, or bandwagoning, through which states pursue strategies of adaptation ‘to the more powerful actors in the cooperation’ (Pedersen 2023, 442). At the moment, it seems that France, Germany and the UK ‘drive on sight’ rather than approaching the question holistically. The following analysis aims to unpack how the three European states see US–China competition, the risk of the alliance dilemma and how these reflections have played out so far in their strategies. The strategies of France, Germany and the UK on China demonstrate that their approaches are influenced by a distinctly transatlantic component and reflect the transatlantic alliance dilemma. This is visible in their (1) high awareness of the risks stemming from great power competition, (2) approaches to managing the risk of short-term abandonment, and (3) hedging to mitigate the medium- and long-term risks of abandonment and entrapment. The empirical evidence for this analysis was gathered through a qualitative analysis of European strategic documents, statements and policy decisions taken mostly during the period of the Biden administration. However, in light of the risk of a scaling-up of the alliance dilemma under the Trump administration, sources and evidence accessible by the end of January 2025 were included to illustrate the European approaches. In addition to publicly available documents and the sources mentioned above, this paper draws on conversations with policymakers and experts under the Chatham House rule. Mitigating risks from US–China competition: multilateralism instead of alignment That France, Germany and the UK are close allies with the US is clearly visible in their respective strategies on China, not least because of references they make to the importance of the alliance and their descriptions of their own positions between the two great powers. Overall, France, Germany and the UK share the perception of US–China competition and the emergence of blocs as potentially harmful to their interests. As a consequence, all three call for an inclusive multilateral order instead of falling into a logic of blocs, as the increasing competition is seen as a risk for Europe (Secrétariat général de la défense et de la sécurité nationale 2022, 9–15; The Federal Government of Germany 2020, 24–6; Government of the United Kingdom 2023, 22–6). The response of all three European powers to the emergence of blocs is multilateralism: instead of clearly aligning with the US, the French, German and British strategies call for building broader multilateral coalitions, which should, eventually, also include China (The Federal Government of Germany 2020, 23–6; Government of the United Kingdom 2023). The tone in Paris, Berlin and London towards Beijing has clearly changed over recent years; accordingly, the European capitals were also willing to support strong wording on China in the 2024 NATO summit declaration, which describes China as a ‘critical enabler’ of Russia’s ongoing war against Ukraine (NATO 2024). Albeit also recognised as a critical partner for key issues such as climate policy and trade, European states openly describe China as a ‘systemic rival’ and occasionally call out China’s behaviour, as they did, for example, in the case of a note verbale on the South China Sea (UN 2020). Nevertheless, Europe has not (yet) given in to US pressure to align with Washington’s more confrontational approach towards China (Etienne 2024). Even if European states and Washington have moved closer to each other, especially on economic security (Meyers and Reinsch 2023), the European positions on US–China competition demonstrate that Europeans are not willing to fully endorse or follow Washington’s approach—not least because European imports from China have increased in recent years (Lovely and Yan 2024). Managing the risk of short-term abandonment Since Trump’s election, the risk of abandonment by the US has been seen as increasingly high in Paris, Berlin and London.1 This is not least because Trump has openly questioned his willingness to adhere to Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty in the case of an armed attack on Europeans (Sullivan 2024). Europeans are especially concerned about issue linkage in this context, meaning that demands in a policy area other than security could be used as a condition. Concretely, Trump could use the threat of abandonment as leverage to compel Europe to align with the US on China policy.2 Barkin and Kratz (2025) suggest that Europe adopt a ‘carrot and stick’ approach, whereby Europe could start with an offer to the US: buying more liquified natural gas, defence goods and agricultural products from the US could mitigate the risk of abandonment. However, there is awareness among European states that coercion from the US to align on US–China policy, especially when linked to the threat of abandonment, might best be mitigated through enhancing European military capabilities—which would still leave the continent exposed to these threats, though to a lesser extent.3 Addressing the risk of medium- and long-term abandonment and entrapment: transatlantic hedging However, the risk of at least partial abandonment is not a new challenge for European strategy, and had already infused earlier strategic thinking. The shift of US strategic priorities away from Europe and to the Indo-Pacific has already been demonstrated in the allocation of resources to the different theatres. Moreover, European states have increasingly become aware that US forces will be withdrawn from their territories in the future and have concluded that they will have to step up their own commitment to European security (see Grand 2024). In parallel, there is an awareness in European capitals that showing more interest in the Indo-Pacific and giving more importance to policy on China is also a way for Europeans to demonstrate an understanding of their ally’s strategic priorities.4 Accordingly, the approaches of France, Germany and the UK to China and the Indo-Pacific also have to be understood as a commitment to the priorities of the US in order to keep this ally engaged in the European theatre and mitigate the risk of abandonment; however, European states abstain from fully aligning with the US approach, as their capabilities and strategic goals are perceived as diverging from those of the US. In this way, Europe aims to avoid entrapment over the medium term through slightly distancing itself from US policy. While all three European states also call for de-risking from China and diversification of their supply chains, maintaining strong economic ties with Beijing is a key component of their respective approaches—which contrasts with the US calls for decoupling. Furthermore, these states have never formally endorsed the US policy on China (Etienne 2024). Nevertheless, enhancing European capabilities would not only send a signal to Washington, but also qualify as hedging, understood as an ‘insurance policy’ to avoid a deterioration in US–Europe relations if the US opted for abandonment, or even as part of a move towards emancipation to reduce strategic dependencies on Washington (see Fiott 2018, 4–6). Conclusion: a transatlantic China challenge Designing their approaches to China and to US–China competition more broadly constitutes a complex strategic dilemma for European states. Paris, Berlin and London do not fully align with Washington’s approach, and it remains to be seen whether they will be willing to do so under the second Trump administration. To manage the risk of abandonment and entrapment, European states pursue different individual approaches to strategic hedging: their strategies on China and US–China competition are designed in a way that allows them to mitigate the risk of abandonment which might stem from significant transatlantic divergence, and to avoid automatic entrapment through their slight distancing from the US approach. From a theoretical perspective, this article has demonstrated that the alliance dilemma, along with the parallel fear of abandonment and entrapment by the US, is a major factor accounting for Europe’s limited strategies on China and its hedging behaviour. This article offers a conceptual analysis of the structural forces explaining European strategies, but other strategic cultures and relationships with the US could offer important complementary insights. To further analyse how individual European states design their strategies vis-à-vis China in light of the alliance dilemma and potential domestic constraints and specificities, neoclassical realism could offer an interesting analytical concept. This approach posits that structural forces set the parameters for foreign policy and treats domestic factors, including strategic culture, as intervening variables (see Rose 1998). Accordingly, it appears well suited for foreign policy analysis, and has indeed gained popularity in the field in recent years (see, for example, Martill and Sus 2024; Meibauer et al. 2021; Weber 2024). Empirically, this article constitutes a conceptual starting point rather than an exhaustive analysis of the strategy-making processes of European states with regard to China and US–China competition and makes a more comprehensive assessment desirable. The findings of this article have broader implications for policymaking. First, they demonstrate the necessity for Europe to determine its place in the increasing US–China competition. European coordination on the respective approaches vis-à-vis the US—especially in light of potential coercion to align—and China is of paramount importance to ensure that foreign policy strategies are mutually reinforcing and not undermining European objectives. Second, the article demonstrates that Europe currently responds to the ‘transatlantic China challenge’ through transatlantic hedging: while this strategy seems to be promising in the short term, it is questionable to what extent the strategy is sustainable and could help European states to navigate the parallel challenges of abandonment and entrapment. Unless Europe decides to fully align with the US—and it is questionable whether this decision would be in its interest—European states would be well advised to develop a sustainable long-term approach to China. A transatlantic dialogue on China, in which Europe and the US openly discuss synergies and divergences, could help prevent misunderstandings and decrease the risk of coercion or issue linkage due to a misreading of European approaches in Washington. Third, as the risks of (at least partial) abandonment and entrapment are systemic challenges due to the current composition of the transatlantic alliance, a logical step for European states to decrease their dependence on the US as the hegemon in the alliance would be to significantly strengthen European capabilities. Stronger military capabilities could help mitigate the ramifications of abandonment, and the aforementioned distinctly European strategy could allow Europe to avoid strategic entrapment in relation to China imposed by Washington. As Europe remains the junior partner in the transatlantic alliance, the parallel risks of abandonment and entrapment, as well as issue linkage, are highly likely to influence its approaches towards China in the long term, but there are certainly ways to render this ‘transatlantic China challenge’ less challenging. ORCID iDGesine Weber https://orcid.org/0009-0008-2643-0400Footnotes1. Conversation with French, German and British experts in Berlin, January 2025.2. Conversation with French, German and British experts in Berlin, January 2025.3. Conversation with French, German and British experts in Berlin, January 2025; conversation with European experts and officials in Paris, January 2025.4. Conversation with officials from Germany and France in Paris, November 2024; conversation with French, German and British experts in Berlin, January 2025.ReferencesBarkin N., Kratz A. (2025). Trump and the Europe–US–China Triangle. Rhodium Group, 16 January. https://rhg.com/research/trump-and-the-europe-us-china-triangle/. Accessed 18 January 2025.Demarais A. (2024). Divided we stand: The EU votes on Chinese electric vehicle tariffs. European Council on Foreign Relations, 9 October. https://ecfr.eu/article/divided-we-stand-the-eu-votes-on-chinese-electric-vehicle-tariffs/. Accessed 25 January 2025.Etienne P. (2024). The European Union between the United States and China: Should we choose between equidistance and following? Fondation Robert Schuman, 8 October. https://www.robert-schuman.eu/en/european-issues/763-the-european-union-between-the-united-states-and-china-should-we-choose-between-equidistance-and-following. Accessed 22 December 2024.Fiott D. (2018). Strategic autonomy and the defence of Europe. European Union Institute for Security Studies, Brief 12/2018. https://www.iss.europa.eu/sites/default/files/EUISSFiles/Brief%2012__Strategic%20Autonomy.pdf. Accessed 25 January 2025.García-Herrero A., Vasselier A. (2024). Updating EU strategy on China: Co-existence while de-risking through partnerships. Mercator Institute for China Studies. https://merics.org/en/external-publication/updating-eu-strategy-china-co-existence-while-de-risking-through-partnerships. Accessed 30 January 2025.Government of France. (2021). France’s Indo-Pacific strategy. https://www.diplomatie.gouv.fr/IMG/pdf/en_dcp_a4_indopacifique_022022_v1-4_web_cle878143.pdf. Accessed 31 January 2025.Government of the United Kingdom. (2021). Global Britain in a competitive age: The integrated review of security, defence, development and foreign policy. London: The Stationery Office. https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/global-britain-in-a-competitive-age-the-integrated-review-of-security-defence-development-and-foreign-policy. Accessed 18 January 2025.Government of the United Kingdom. (2023). Integrated review refresh 2023: Responding to a more contested and volatile world. London: The Stationery Office. https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/integrated-review-refresh-2023-responding-to-a-more-contested-and-volatile-world. Accessed 18 January 2025.Grand C. (2024). Defending Europe with less America. European Council on Foreign Relations, 3 July. https://ecfr.eu/publication/defending-europe-with-less-america/. Accessed 18 January 2025.International Monetary Fund. (2025). World economic outlook: GDP data mapper [Map]. https://www.imf.org/external/datamapper/NGDPD@WEO/OEMDC/ADVEC/WEOWORLD. Accessed 23 January 2025.Leoni Z. (2023). Grand strategy and the rise of China: Made in America. Agenda Publishing.Leoni Z., Tzinieris S. (2024). The return of geopolitical blocs. Survival, 66(2), 37–54.Lovely M. E., Yan J. (2024). As the US has relied less on imports from China, the EU has imported more. Pederson Institute for International Economics, 24 August. https://www.piie.com/research/piie-charts/2024/us-has-relied-less-imports-china-eu-has-imported-more. Accessed 22 December 2024.Lynch S., Toosi N., Moens B., Banco E. (2023). The U.S. wants Europe to stand up to China. Europe says: Not so fast. Politico, 3 August. https://www.politico.com/news/2023/03/08/us-europe-china-00086204. Accessed 18 January 2025.Martill B., Sus M. (2024). Winds of change? Neoclassical realism, foreign policy change, and European responses to the Russia-Ukraine War. British Journal of Politics & International Relations.McCurry J. (2023). France opposed to opening of Nato liaison office in Japan, official says. The Guardian, 7 June. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/jun/07/france-opposed-to-opening-of-nato-liaison-office-in-japan-official-says. Accessed 25 January 2025.Meibauer G., Desmaele L., Onea T., Kitchen N., Foulon M., Reichwein A., Sterling-Folker J. (2021). Forum: Rethinking neoclassical realism at theory’s end. International Studies Review, 23(1), 268–95.Meyers E., Reinsch W. A. (2023). The push for U.S.–EU convergence on economic security policy. Center for Strategic and International Studies, 7 July. https://www.csis.org/analysis/push-us-eu-convergence-economic-security-policy. Accessed 26 January 2025.NATO. (2024). Washington Summit declaration. https://www.nato.int/cps/cn/natohq/official_texts_227678.htm. Accessed 18 January 2025.Oertel J. (2023). Ende der China-Illusion: Wie wir mit Pekings Machtanspruch umgehen müssen. Munich: Piper Verlag.Pedersen R. B. (2023). Small states shelter diplomacy: Balancing costs of entrapment and abandonment in the alliance dilemma. Cooperation and Conflict, 58(4), 441–59.Politi A. (2023). The paradigm shift in EU–China relations and the limits of the EU’s current strategy towards China: A relational perspective. Asian Affairs 54(4), 670–93.Pottinger M., Gallagher M. (2024). No substitute for victory: America’s competition with China must be strategic and ideological. Foreign Affairs, 10 April. https://www.foreignaffairs.com/united-states/no-substitute-victory-pottinger-gallagher. Accessed 18 January 2025.Rose G. (1998). Neoclassical realism and theories of foreign policy. World Politics, 51(1), 144–72.Scazzieri L. (2025). Towards an EU ‘defence union’? Centre for European Reform, 30 January. https://www.cer.eu/publications/archive/policy-brief/2025/towards-eu-defence-union. Accessed 30 January 2025.Secrétariat général de la défense et de la sécurité nationale. (2022). Revue nationale stratégique 2022. https://www.sgdsn.gouv.fr/publications/revue-nationale-strategique-2022. Accessed 18 January 2025.Snyder G. H. (1984). The security dilemma in alliance politics. World Politics, 36(4), 461–95.Stockholm International Peace Research Institute. (n.d.). SIPRI Military Expenditure Database.Sullivan K. (2024). Trump says he would encourage Russia to ‘do whatever the hell they want’ to any NATO country that doesn’t pay enough. CNN, 11 February. https://edition.cnn.com/2024/02/10/politics/trump-russia-nato/index.html. Accessed 29 January 2025.Taylor R. (2024). UK government policy towards China. https://lordslibrary.parliament.uk/uk-government-policy-towards-china/. Accessed 18 January 2025.The Federal Government of Germany. (2020). Policy guidelines for the Indo-Pacific. www.auswaertiges-amt.de/blob/2380514/f9784f7e3b3fa1bd7c5446d274a4169e/200901-indo-pazifik-leitlinien–1–data.pdf. Accessed 21 December 2024.The Federal Government of Germany. (2023). China-Strategie der Bundesregierung. Berlin: Auswärtiges Amt. https://www.auswaertiges-amt.de/blueprint/servlet/resource/blob/2608578/810fdade376b1467f20bdb697b2acd58/china-strategie-data.pdf. Accessed 18 January 2025.UN (2020). Note verbale, UK NV No. 162/20, 16 September. https://www.un.org/Depts/los/clcs_new/submissions_files/mys_12_12_2019/2020_09_16_GBR_NV_UN_001.pdf. Accessed 25 January 2025.US Department of Defense. (2022). National Defense Strategy of the United States of America. https://media.defense.gov/2022/Oct/27/2003103845/-1/-1/1/2022-NATIONAL-DEFENSE-STRATEGY-NPR-MDR.pdf. Accessed 25 January 2025.Weber G. (2024). Zeitenwende à la française: Continuity and change in French foreign policy after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. British Journal of Politics & International Relations.Wivel A., Bailes A. J. K., Archer C. (2014). Setting the scene: Small states and international security. In Archer C., Bailes A. J. K., Wivel A. (eds.), Small states and international security: Europe and beyond (pp. 3–25). London: Routledge.Wivel A., Thorhallsson B. (2018). Brexit and small states in Europe: Hedging, hiding or seeking shelter? In Rosamond B., Nedergaard P., Diamond P. (eds.), The Routledge handbook of the politics of Brexit, 1st edn. (pp. 266–77). Abingdon-on-Thames: Routledge.

Defense & Security
flag country Europe defense army

European Union Strategic Autonomy. Necessary but potentially problematic?

by Krzysztof Śliwiński

Abstract This paper examines the evolving concept of European Union Strategic Autonomy (EU-SA) within the context of contemporary geopolitical challenges, with a particular focus on EU-Russia and EU-China relations. EU-SA reflects the EU's aspiration to act independently in foreign policy, security, defence, and economic affairs, moving from a rule-taker to a rule-maker in global politics. The study outlines the historical development of EU-SA from 2013 to the present, highlighting key milestones such as the Strategic Compass and the impact of the Ukraine War, which accelerated efforts toward defence collaboration, energy independence, and economic resilience. It explores the transatlantic dynamics, noting growing uncertainties in the U.S. commitment to NATO and the resulting push for a more autonomous European defence posture. Additionally, it addresses the complex EU-China relationship, marked by both cooperation and competition, as well as the strained EU-Russia ties amid ongoing conflict. The paper concludes by questioning the economic feasibility and political risks of deeper EU strategic autonomy, especially regarding security centralisation and Germany's leadership role. Key Words: EU, Strategic Autonomy, Security, Geopolitics, U.S, China, Russia Introduction At the 2025 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) Summit in The Hague, member states (Allies) committed to investing 5% of their Gross Domestic Product (GDP) annually in core defence requirements and defence- and security-related spending by 2035. They will allocate at least 3.5% of GDP annually, based on the agreed-upon definition of NATO defence expenditure, by 2035 to resource core defence requirements and meet the NATO Capability Targets. Allies agreed to submit annual plans that show a credible, incremental path to achieving this goal.[1] At the same time, Spain secured a special compromise, committing to meet core requirements with just 2.1% of GDP, making it the only exception to the broader 5% target. Previously, in 2014, NATO Heads of State and Government had agreed to commit 2% of their national GDP to defence spending, to help ensure the Alliance's continued military readiness. This decision was taken in response to Russia's illegal annexation of Crimea, and amid broader instability in the Middle East. The 2014 Defence Investment Pledge was built on an earlier commitment to meeting this 2% of GDP guideline, agreed in 2006 by NATO Defence Ministers. In light of the increase in defence spending, given that 23 out of 32 NATO Allies are EU member states, the idea of European Union strategic autonomy (EU-SA) comes to mind. This paper will explore the issue of EU-SA with a specific reference to EU-Russia and EU-China relations.[2] A Brief History of EU Strategic Autonomy European Union strategic autonomy is an evolving concept that reflects its ambition to act independently in strategically important policy areas, including foreign policy, security, defence, and economic relations. Strong strategic autonomy, according to Barbara Lippert, Nicolai von Ondarza and Volker Perthes, means being able to set, modify and enforce international rules, as opposed to (unwillingly) obeying rules set by others. The opposite of strategic autonomy is being a rule-taker, subject to strategic decisions made by others, such as the United States, China, or Russia.[3] The concept was first prominently discussed in the context of defence in 2013 and has since expanded to encompass a broader range of policy areas. Historically speaking, one can identify numerous phases during which EU-SA evolved. - 2013-2016: During this period, EU-SA focused on security and defence, with initiatives like the Permanent Structured Cooperation (PESCO) and the European Defence Fund, aiming to strengthen the EU's defence capabilities.[4]  - 2017-2019: During this period, the EU-SA shifted its focus to defending European interests in a hostile geopolitical environment, influenced by events such as Brexit, the Trump presidency, and China's growing assertiveness.- 2020: The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted economic vulnerabilities, prompting a focus on mitigating dependence on foreign supply chains, particularly in critical sectors like health and technology.- Since 2021: The scope widened to virtually all EU policy areas, including digital, energy, and values, with terminology evolving to include "open strategic autonomy," "strategic sovereignty," "capacity to act," and "resilience".- 2022: The Ukraine War and Accelerated Implementation. Russia's invasion of Ukraine catalysed concrete actions toward EU-SA, notably in defence, energy independence, and economic resilience. The European Council's Versailles Declaration (March 2022) expressed strong political will to increase EU-SA, calling for collaborative investments in defence, phasing out dependency on Russian energy, and reducing reliance on critical raw materials, semiconductors, health, digital technologies, and food imports.[5] - The Strategic Compass for security and defence policy (endorsed March 2022) outlines a roadmap to 2030, emphasising strengthened EU defence capacities. Among others, it includes: o   Establishment of a strong EU Rapid Deployment Capacity of up to 5000 troops for different types of crises.o   Ready to deploy 200 fully equipped Common Security and Defence Policy (CSDP) mission experts within 30 days, including in complex environments.[6]o   Conducting regular live exercises on land and at sea.o   Enhanced military mobility.o   Reinforcement of the EU's civilian and military CSDP missions and operations by promoting a rapid and more flexible decision-making process, acting more robustly and ensuring greater financial solidarity.o   Making full use of the European Peace Facility to support partners.[7] According to the EU itself, the EU-SA is not a zero-sum game, but rather a sliding scale between complete autonomy and full dependency, with different results for different policy areas. What is more, when compared to the famous Maslow's hierarchy of needs (European Parliament briefing's language), the EU is not only perceived as an economic power, but it is also seen as a normative power. Therefore, the EU is recognised for its core values of democracy, human rights and the rule of law. Ultimately, Maslow's “self-actualisation” could mean the achievement of an EU in which citizens recognise their European identity and which has realised its full autonomous policy potential.[8]   As if this is not enough, the same source introduces the concept of the 360° strategic autonomy wheel, which reportedly illustrates policy areas in which the EU aims for greater strategic autonomy, as well as the connections between them. Mutual influence between policy areas can happen across the wheel, but is particularly strong in adjacent areas. Military action, for example, can cause migration, health is linked to food quality, energy policy influences the climate, and misinformation undermines democracy. The wheel can help to understand links, set priorities and view potential conflicts. More autonomy in the digital green economy will, for example, require vast quantities of “rare earth” materials, making the EU more (instead of less) dependent on imports. Reductions in energy consumption achieved through the digitalisation of the economy (for example, by reducing transport) will be partly offset by the increase in energy consumption by electronic devices and data centres.   Global Context The significance of EU-SA lies in ensuring the EU's political survival and global influence in a multipolar world where its relative power is diminishing. The EU's long-term economic outlook is bleak: its share of global GDP, now at 17% (at current prices), could nearly halve by 2050. According to the World Economic Forum, this economic backsliding not only threatens Europe's ability to fund its social model but also risks weighing on the bloc's global influence, leaving it even more dependent on the U.S. and China.[9] Moreover, the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the conflictual nature of economic interdependence, as reliance on foreign supply chains for critical goods exposed vulnerabilities. Soft power has become an instrument of hard power, necessitating autonomy in trade, finance, and investment.  The U.S.'s strategic pivot to Asia, the exclusion of Europe in conflicts like Nagorno-Karabakh, Libya, and Syria (termed Astanisation[10], which favours Russia and Turkey), the sidelining of the EU in EU-Russia negotiations regarding the war in Ukraine, and China's state-led economic model have all pushed the EU towards the sidelines. Transatlantic divide Security is a critical dimension, with significant uncertainty surrounding the U.S. commitment to NATO under the Trump administration. Reports indicate Trump has questioned NATO's Article 5 guarantees, with actions like withdrawing military personnel from a Ukraine aid hub in Poland on April 8, 2025, and proposing to stand down 10,000 light infantry troops in Poland, Romania, and the Baltic states by 2025.[11] This has led to fears of a "NATO-minus" scenario, where the EU must fill security gaps without full U.S. backing. In response, the EU is pushing for greater strategic autonomy in defence. Initiatives like ReArm EU are mentioned, with calls for the EU to develop a stand-alone, integrated military capacity to stabilise the global economy. As Jean-Pierre Maulny, Deputy Director of the French Institute for International and Strategic Affairs (IRIS), adequately observes "The risk is now clear: a form of bilateral agreement between the United States and Russia, benefiting the interests of both countries, could leave Ukraine severely weakened and an easy prey for Moscow, thereby weakening other European countries consequently. As a consolation prize, we will have to ensure Europe's conventional security, as U.S. Secretary of Defence Pete Hegseth announced to Europeans at the opening of the NATO ministerial meeting held in Brussels on 12–13 February 2025. This situation will place Europeans in a terrible dilemma: Either they do not wish to provide security guarantees to Ukraine and risk completely discrediting themselves in the eyes of powers such as the United States, Russia, and China, as Europeans will have demonstrated that they are unable to defend the continent, while also creating a significant long-term risk to Europe's security. Alternatively, they could provide security guarantees to Ukraine, accepting the financial burden that would impact the European Union's long-term competitiveness. In light of this situation, some advocate for the establishment of a European pillar within NATO. If one considers that the United States is negotiating peace in Europe without and against the Europeans, and that they no longer wish to defend Europe with conventional military means (will they respect the NATO Defence Planning Process?), Europeans should take on Europe's security fully. This would mean taking control of NATO. It will also be easier to make NATO and the European Union work together with a more Europeanised organisation".[12] Economically, there are several issues that contemporary demand addresses, but the most pressing is, of course, the Tariffs. The U.S. and European Union are running out of time to strike a deal on trade tariffs. Negotiations have been slow since both the U.S. and EU temporarily cut duties on each other until July 9. If an agreement is not achieved by then, full reciprocal import tariffs of 50% on EU goods, and the bloc's wide-spanning countermeasures are set to come into effect.[13] According to Almut Möller, Director for European and Global Affairs and head of the Europe in the World programme (European Policy Centre), "for the first time in decades, Europeans can no longer rely on a benign partner on the other side of the Atlantic, leaving them dangerously exposed and acutely vulnerable, including on the very foundations of liberal democracy. Until recently, the U.S. dominated a world order that provided a favourable environment for the EU to extend its membership, further develop, and leverage its strengths, particularly as a trading power, without having to worry much about geopolitics. Suddenly, liberal Europe looks very lonely, and is struggling to keep up with a world of change".[14] Other problems arguably include digital regulation and data protection, antitrust policy and digital taxation, fiscal policy and social protection, geopolitical rivalries, China's rise, and competition and trade policy. EU–China conundrum Both the EU and the U.S. are concerned about China's growing economic and technological influence, but they have differing approaches to addressing this challenge. The EU has sought to maintain a balance between cooperation and competition with China, while the U.S. has adopted a more confrontational approach.[15] These differences have led to tensions in areas such as trade policy and technology regulation. For example, the EU has been critical of the U.S.'s unilateral approach to addressing China's trade practices, while the U.S. has accused the EU of being too lenient towards China. These disagreements have made it difficult to achieve a coordinated transatlantic response to China's rise.[16] According to German experts, the balance of power between China and the EU and its member states is developing increasingly asymmetrically to Europe's disadvantage. Only in trade policy – and partially in investment – can the EU maintain its position in a manner respected by China.[17] Europe holds significant importance for China across various dimensions: economically, as its top supplier and second-largest export destination; technologically, as a source of advanced technology; institutionally, as a model to emulate; politically, to advance its objectives concerning other nations, particularly the United States; and selectively, as a collaborator in areas like global health and regional stabilisation. Unlike Russia and the United States, China perceives a vital interest in the EU's continued existence and unity within a multipolar world; yet, it employs a "divide and rule" strategy. China selectively rewards or penalises individual EU countries based on their political and economic significance and their compliance with China's expectations on key issues. These issues include arms sales to Taiwan, meetings with the Tibetan Dalai Lama, and positions on the Uighurs, human rights in China, and the South China Sea. China engages with Europe on multiple levels — political, economic, technological, cultural, and academic — using various political channels (such as strategic partnerships with the EU and individual EU member states), dialogue formats (like the 16+1 format with sixteen Central and Eastern European countries), and high-level bilateral intergovernmental consultations with Germany, France, and the United Kingdom. China's hopes that the European Union would emerge as an independent and comprehensive player in global politics, serving as a counterbalance to the United States, have diminished. However, China would be supportive of any European efforts towards achieving strategic autonomy, provided it does not translate into a confrontational approach towards China itself. In contrast, Europe's political priorities—such as ensuring peace and stability in East Asia, China's role in global stability, development, environmental issues, climate change, and non-proliferation, as well as improving human rights in China — are often considered secondary and are not actively pursued by all EU member states. Europe lacks a unified and assertive foreign policy stance regarding the geopolitical rivalry between the United States and China for dominance in the Asia-Pacific region. There is also an absence of a clear position on China's authoritarian vision of order. Even in trade and investment disputes, Europe struggles to establish a unified approach to resolving these issues. The EU member states are too diverse in terms of size, profiles, and interests in their dealings with China: Economically, there is a divide between countries that are appealing industrial and technological partners for China and those that compete for favour in Beijing. Some nations have a clear interest in global governance. Additionally, the United Kingdom and France maintain their respective military presences in the Asia region. In this context, ReArm EU and its financial instrument SAFE (analysed here https://worldnewworld.com/page/content.php?no=5384 ) have the potential to provide the EU with meaningful strategic autonomy and invite genuine geopolitical actorness. EU–Russia conundrum Since Donald Trump took office as the U.S. president, the coordination of transatlantic policies regarding Russia has largely disintegrated. The White House's openness to a comprehensive "deal" with Russian President Vladimir Putin contrasts with Congress's attempts to limit Trump's foreign policy options with Russia, resulting in the marginalisation of coordination with European allies. This situation is further complicated by Washington's increasing reliance on extraterritorial sanctions, a trend that began before Trump's presidency. Consequently, according to European foreign and security experts, Europe must achieve greater strategic autonomy in its dealings with Russia. However, this relationship is particularly strained by significant conflicts of interest. Russia's invasion of Ukraine significantly disrupted the previously peaceful and liberal democratic relations among European nations. Putin's "special military operation" compelled the EU to introduce seventeen (so far) escalating economic sanction packages aimed at undermining the Russian economy and ultimately limiting Russia's capacity to continue the war. In a gesture of solidarity with Ukraine, the EU has also allocated billions of euros to both EU member states and Ukraine to avert a humanitarian disaster and ensure the provision of essential needs for Ukrainians fleeing the conflict.[18] After three and a half years from the outset of the war, Russia continues to pose a complex challenge that the EU and European nations cannot address independently in the foreseeable future. If the U.S. security guarantee weakens before Europe can bolster its own capabilities, the EU could face new vulnerabilities that Russia might exploit along its external borders, such as in the Baltic states, and elsewhere. Currently, the EU and its member states lack sufficient means to deter Russia from pursuing its interests aggressively and recklessly in the shared neighbourhood.[19] Critics, on the other hand, argue that calls for EU strategic autonomy, particularly the creation of a European Army and a significant increase in military spending, are a double-edged sword. First, the primary official rationale is that the EU must prepare itself for a possible attack on EU member states by Russia. The legacy media are full of European leaders claiming that Russia will sooner or later attack Europe.[20] Yet, this claim is not substantiated with much evidence. The proponents of the European army completely disregard numerous doubts surrounding the 2013/2014 "Euromaidan" and the role of the CIA in the events.[21] Second, according to the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) 's estimations, the total number of conflict-related casualties in Ukraine from April 14, 2014, to December 31, 2021, stood at 51,000 – 54,000. These numbers are broken down as follows: 14,200 - 14,400 killed (at least 3,404 civilians, estimated 4,400 Ukrainian forces, and estimated 6,500 members of armed groups), and 37,000 - 39,000 injured (7,000 – 9,000 civilians, 13,800 – 14,200 Ukrainian forces and 15,800 - 16,200 members of armed groups).[22] In short, the situation was chaotic, with many casualties among civilians. Third, it was allegedly Europeans who torpedoed a first chance of peace negotiations as early as April 2014 in Istanbul.[23] Fourth, many European leaders seem to be utterly oblivious to the fact that the prolongation of the war adds to the destruction of Ukraine and Ukrainian society, deaths and emigration. Last but not least, given the fact that it is Germany that calls for both the European Army and the federalisation of Europe (with some assistance from France), one should be extra careful given the role of Germans during the WWII and the fact that neither has there been any official peace treaty with Germany nor have they recompensated countries such as Poland. Conclusion Strategic autonomy may be a necessity for Europe, given the dynamics of transatlantic relationships. The questions, however, that have to be pondered (and it does not seem that anyone in the legacy media or mainstream academia is ready to ask them) are numerous. Who will pay for that? Can Europeans afford such expenses under the current economic circumstances, and even worse economic prospects? Is the centralisation of security and military a Pandora's box? Should Europeans allow Germany (of all EU member states) to take special responsibility for this project? Isn't the pro-war rhetoric of Western political leaders making relations with Russia even more tense and dangerous, in other words, leading to escalation? History has solemnly proven that when left to their own devices, the Europeans inevitably create disastrous conflicts that have lasting consequences for generations. The American pivot to Asia and the consequent withdrawal from Europe may therefore have tragic ramifications for the European continent. References[1] Defence expenditures and NATO’s 5% commitment. (2025, June 27). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_49198.htm[2] NATO and the EU have 23 members in common: Belgium, Bulgaria, Croatia, Czechia, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain and Sweden. See more at: https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/policies/eu-nato-cooperation/#0[3] Lippert, B., von Ondarza, N., & Perthes, V. (2019, March). European Strategic Autonomy. Actors, Issues, Conflicts of Interests. Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut für Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.swp-berlin.org/ doi:10.18449/2019RP04/#hd-d14204e263[4] Damen, M. (2022, July). EU strategic autonomy 2013-2023: From concept to capacity (EU Strategic Autonomy Monitor). European Parliamentary Research Service. https://www.eprs.ep.parl.union.eu[5] Informal meeting of the Heads of State or Government Versailles Declaration. (2022, March 10–11). Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut Fur Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.consilium.europa.eu/media/54773/20220311-versailles-declaration-en.pdf[6] See more at: https://www.eeas.europa.eu/eeas/csdp-structure-instruments-and-agencies_en[7] See more at: https://fpi.ec.europa.eu/what-we-do/european-peace-facility_en[8] Damen, M. (2022, July). EU strategic autonomy 2013-2023: From concept to capacity (EU Strategic Autonomy Monitor). European Parliamentary Research Service. https://www.eprs.ep.parl.union.eu[9] Open but Secure:  Europe’s Path to Strategic Interdependence. INSIGHT REPORT. (2025). World Economic Forum. https://reports.weforum.org/docs/WEF_Open_but_Secure_Europe%E2%80%99s_Path_to_Strategic_Interdependence_2025.pdf[10] In reference to the Astana format on Syria) which leads to the exclusion of Europe from the settlement of regional conflicts in favour of Russia and Turkey. See more: https://www.eeas.europa.eu/eeas/why-european-strategic-autonomy-matters_en[11] Tilles, D. (2025, April 8). US to withdraw military from Ukraine aid hub in Poland. Notes from Poland. https://notesfrompoland.com/2025/04/08/us-to-withdraw-military-from-ukraine-aid-hub-in-poland/[12] Maulny, J.-P. (2025, February 13). United States – Europe: Our Paths Are Splitting. The French Institute for International and Strategic Affairs (IRIS). https://www.iris-france.org/en/united-states-europe-our-paths-are-splitting/[13] Kiderlin, S. (2025, June 18). These are the sticking points holding up a U.S.-EU trade deal. CNBC. https://www.cnbc.com/2025/06/18/these-are-the-sticking-points-holding-up-a-us-eu-trade-deal.html#:~:text=The%20EU%20and%20US%20flags,Poland%20on%20March%206%2C%202025.&text=Afp%20%7C%20Getty%20Images-,The%20U.S.%20and%20European%20Union%20are%20running%20out%20of%20time,($1.93%20trillion)%20in%202024?[14] Möller, A. (2025, February 26). Europe in the World in 2025: Navigating a perilous world with realism and ambition. European Policy Centre. https://www.epc.eu/publication/Europe-in-the-World-in-2025-Navigating-a-perilous-world-with-realism-625da4/#:~:text=2025%20will%20be%20a%20year,with%20a%20world%20of%20change[15] Bradford, A. (2023). When Rights, Markets, and Security Collide (pp. 221–254). Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780197649268.003.0007[16] Portanskiy, A. (2023). UE - US: new barriers to trade. Современная Европа. https://doi.org/10.31857/s020170832304006x[17] Lippert, B., von Ondarza, N., & Perthes, V. (2019, March). European Strategic Autonomy. Actors, Issues, Conflicts of Interests. Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut für Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.swp-berlin.org/ doi:10.18449/2019RP04/#hd-d14204e263 [18] Klüver, L. (2025, April 18). Putin’s War on Ukraine: What can the EU actually do? European Careers Association. https://ecamaastricht.org/blueandyellow-knowyourunion/putins-war-on-ukraine-what-can-the-eu-actually-do#:~:text=Similarly%2C%20the%20Strategic%20Compass%2C%20the%20most%20recent,its%20interests%20and%20promote%20its%20values%20internationally.[19] Lippert, B., von Ondarza, N., & Perthes, V. (2019, March). European Strategic Autonomy. Actors, Issues, Conflicts of Interests. Stiftung Wissenschaft Un Politic. Deutches Institut für Politik Und Sicherheit. https://www.swp-berlin.org/ doi:10.18449/2019RP04/#hd-d14204e263 [20] ochecová, K. (2025, February 11). Russia could start a major war in Europe within 5 years, Danish intelligence warns. Politico. https://www.politico.eu/article/russia-war-threat-europe-within-5-years-danish-intelligence-ddis-warns/[21] Katchanovski, I. (2024). The Maidan Massacre in Ukraine The Mass Killing that Changed the World. Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-67121-0[22] Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights. (2022, January 27). Conflict-related civilian casualties in Ukraine: December 2021 update. United Nations Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine. https://ohchr.org[23] Johnson, J. (2022, May 6). Boris Johnson Pressured Zelenskyy to Ditch Peace Talks With Russia: Ukrainian Paper. Common Dreams. https://www.commondreams.org/news/2022/05/06/boris-johnson-pressured-zelenskyy-ditch-peace-talks-russia-ukrainian-paper

Defense & Security
Chess made from flags of Ukraine, US, EU, China and Russia

The new global chessboard: Europe, America, Russia and China in the Ukraine war

by Bruno Lété

Abstract The Ukraine war has reshaped the global geopolitical landscape, positioning Europe, America, Russia and China as key players on a new global chessboard. Europe is grappling with the dual challenge of ensuring regional security and managing the economic fallout from the conflict. America’s evolving global relationships are marked by a burden-shift with Europe, diplomatic efforts to further deter Russian aggression and a strategic rivalry with China. For Russia, the invasion of Ukraine is a bid to reassert its influence, but it faces severe international sanctions and military setbacks, constraining its strategic ambitions. And China is navigating a complex balancing act between supporting Russia and maintaining its economic ties with the West. This complex interplay of alliances and rivalries underscores the shifting dynamics of global power and the urgent need for diplomatic solutions to ensure stability and peace. Introduction On 27 March 2025 a Summit on Peace and Security for Ukraine was organised by President Emmanuel Macron in cooperation with British Prime Minister Keir Starmer. It was held in Paris. This summit was part of an ongoing series of political and operational meetings that the UK and France have been organising alternately over several weeks, aimed at contributing to a sustainable and just peace in Ukraine. This particular summit saw the participation of 31 countries, including non-EU nations such as the UK, Norway, Canada and Iceland, as well as high-profile figures such as the NATO secretary general, the president of the European Commission and the president of the European Council. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky also attended. The increased frequency of meetings among this wide-ranging ‘coalition of the willing’ is recognition, in Europe’s eyes, of the immediate need to establish and permanently guarantee security and peace in the long term for Ukraine. It is evident that the unconditional ceasefire that Ukraine had declared its readiness to enter into on 11 March in Saudi Arabia has since evolved into a proposal for a limited ceasefire with additional conditions and demands from Russia. Moscow is employing delaying tactics, and there is a growing realisation, even within the US, that Russia is not genuinely interested in ending the war. Europe’s novel security approach: ‘Peace through strength’ This fear of a prolonged conflict in Ukraine, and the perceived risk of war between Europe and Russia, has pushed the European Commission to propose a way forward in its Joint White Paper for European Defence Readiness 2030 (European Commission 2025), which can be encapsulated by the motto ‘peace through strength’. This approach entails rapidly increasing military support for Ukraine, including the provision of more ammunition, artillery, air defence systems, drones and training. Additionally, it involves enhancing the capabilities of European countries by them investing more in their own defence, simplifying administrative processes and fostering better industrial cooperation, including with the Ukrainian defence industry. The European Commission has also outlined the financial instruments that have been established in record time to address these specific challenges. The primary objective of these financial instruments is to bolster European defence spending, with the EU targeting a total of €800 billion. This includes €150 billion in loans available to member states through a new Security Action for Europe (SAFE) instrument and up to €650 billion from national defence budgets, corresponding to an expenditure of 1.5% of GDP that can be excluded from national budgets by activating the ‘national escape clause’ of the EU’s Stability and Growth Pact. Additionally, private financing and funds from the European Investment Bank will be mobilised for investments in priority capabilities. Furthermore, the EU has identified several priority capabilities for investment. In the short term, joint EU purchases should focus on missiles and artillery systems. In the medium term, the goal is to develop large-scale EU systems in integrated air and missile defence, military mobility and strategic enablers. NATO standards will continue to serve as the foundation, and it is crucial that these standards are shared with the EU. Finally, ‘peace through strength’ also includes the further European integration of Ukraine, with Brussels clearly considering Ukraine the EU’s first line of defence. The Commission’s Joint White Paper and a parallel initiative launched by High Representative Kaja Kallas both aim to bolster military support for Kyiv and stress the importance of defence procurement both with and within Ukraine. Despite the commendable pace and scope of the numerous recent initiatives undertaken by the EU, it is imperative to recognise that these commitments must still be translated into tangible actions. The European Commission remains hopeful that the proposals delineated in the Joint White Paper can be actualised during the Polish Presidency, with the aim of reaching concrete decisions by the European Council meeting scheduled for 26–7 June. However, considering the ongoing deterioration of the European security landscape, it could be argued that this deadline lacks the requisite sense of urgency needed to address the pressing challenges ahead. European peace through strength—but not without the US While Europe is building its rise as a security, defence and military actor, there is a consensus among most EU member states that these efforts should not happen to the detriment of NATO and that there is a need to maintain solid US involvement in European security. Strength is not merely a matter of political initiatives but also of demonstrating a clear readiness to engage militarily. There must be a deterrent effect from military power, particularly in anticipation of potential new Russian offensives once Moscow rebuilds its troops and supplies during a future ceasefire or peace deal. And military power is exactly where Europe—willing or not—will still need to rely on the transatlantic partnership for a foreseeable while, due to its current overreliance on strategic US military and intelligence assets. Moreover, the new administration in Washington has manoeuvred fast to have a clear say on the future of European security. It is the US—not Europe—that is leading the diplomacy on a ceasefire or peace deal in Ukraine. And while Europe, in reaction, is focusing on shaping future security guarantees for Ukraine—or even pushing for boots on the ground through a ‘coalition of the willing’—both of these European endeavours hinge, first, on the success of US diplomacy to reach a deal with Russia; and second, on US logistical and intelligence support for the proposed troops on the ground. Without these, most of the ‘willing nations’ may withdraw their commitments. The situation is further complicated by the shortage of operational European troops: for instance, the UK has an expeditionary force, but relies heavily on its air and naval power; France has some units, but in insufficient numbers; and Germany’s contribution remains uncertain. In this context, a European plan to help Ukraine win and maintain peace should not compromise NATO’s resilience and should therefore be developed in close coordination with the alliance, particularly in terms of planning and interoperability. And as Europe is now spending on defence, it should do so while ensuring that its expenditures align with NATO capability objectives. Moreover, military strength is not the only domain in which Europe should continue to keep an eye on the US. Europe notably believes that it is imperative to increase pressure on Russia through sanctions. The EU is unequivocally clear that there can be no consideration of easing sanctions; on the contrary, some member states even advocate for intensifying them. The challenge for Europe, however, remains to emphatically convey this message to the Americans, as any decision by the US to ease sanctions—as requested by Russia—would undermine the most critical form of pressure against Russia. Some EU member states have already raised concerns about the future of European sanctions policy, highlighting the need for new methods to enforce sanctions, particularly if certain EU member states more friendly to Russia decide to obstruct them in the future. Putin’s patient game of chess Meanwhile, President Vladimir Putin has clearly asserted a degree of dominance in the ongoing diplomatic negotiations. He has set preliminary conditions for a ceasefire, made a limited commitment regarding energy infrastructure and subsequently undermined the credibility of his own commitment with new attacks on Ukraine. Despite this, Putin’s demands concerning Western military supplies and intelligence-sharing reveal that Ukrainian attacks on Russian critical infrastructure are causing significant damage and irking the Russian president. Putin’s demands, including the reduction of Ukraine’s military capabilities, the transfer of entire Ukrainian regions to Russian control and the replacement of President Zelensky, are, naturally, unacceptable to Ukraine. These demands also pose the most significant risk to the West: if Russia were to succeed in installing a pro-Russian leader in Kyiv and controlling the Ukrainian military, it would alter the entire power and military balance in Eastern Europe. Should President Trump agree to this, it would likely cause a further deterioration in US–EU relations too. Achieving a middle-ground in any US–Russia agreement for Ukraine currently still poses a formidable challenge. Moscow therefore perceives that it has the momentum in its favour, despite Russia’s inability to achieve any strategic breakthroughs in Ukraine. The financial and human costs of this conflict for Moscow are substantial, while it is making minimal territorial gains. However, while Ukraine has successfully liberated 50% of the territory that was previously occupied by Russia, the Kremlin nevertheless still occupies approximately 20% of Ukrainian territory. Moscow has also likely observed in the US a desire to shift towards finding a consensus and a willingness to negotiate in a transactional manner. Moreover, the recent suspension of US intelligence and military support has already had immediate repercussions on Ukraine’s strength. It has weakened Ukraine’s ability to bring this war to a conclusion and could potentially lead to a temporary ceasefire that would de facto result in the creation of a ‘frozen conflict’—an outcome which Russia would not necessarily view unfavourably. A friendly US visit to Europe . . . On 3 and 4 April 2025, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio participated for the first time in a NATO foreign ministerial meeting. Rubio’s visit to NATO headquarters was notably smoother and more amicable than the visit of his colleague at the Department of Defense, Pete Hegseth, for the defence ministerial meeting in February 2025. Rubio, a seasoned diplomat, adroitly conveyed the message that European allies must significantly increase their defence spending, advocating for allocations of up to 5% of their GDP. He acknowledged the difficulty of this demand but emphasised that it could be achieved incrementally, provided the allies concerned showed a clear and consistent direction of progress. In a similar vein, Rubio addressed the situation in Ukraine, commending the resilience and fighting spirit of the Ukrainian people. He articulated President Trump’s recognition that a military solution in Ukraine is unattainable for both Ukraine and Russia, necessitating a negotiated settlement. Rubio underscored that peace negotiations inherently require compromises from all parties involved. He acknowledged that Ukraine has already made significant concessions, whereas Russia has yet to reciprocate. According to Rubio, Russia is testing President Trump’s resolve, but he also acknowledged that Putin faces severe consequences if he does not promptly agree to a ceasefire, indicating that the timeline for such an agreement is measured in weeks, not months. Rubio concluded by asserting that a peace agreement would be unattainable without European involvement. Rubio also expressed broad support for the EU’s defence initiatives, including the EU Joint White Paper and the ReArm programme. He praised the EU’s efforts to encourage its member states to meet their NATO commitments and to strengthen the industrial base, provided that the non-EU defence industry, particularly American firms, is not unduly excluded. Despite the positive reception of Rubio’s visit to Europe and NATO, there remains an underlying uncertainty about whether other influential figures within President Trump’s Make America Great Again movement share Rubio’s views. The path to achieving a cohesive and effective alliance strategy is fraught with challenges, and it remains uncertain whether NATO will navigate these obstacles successfully and emerge intact. . . . but Washington’s priority is the Asia–Pacific region Above all, the NATO foreign ministerial meeting of early April showed again that the US felt fundamentally displeased with the Western approach to China over the past several decades. The prevailing assumption—that a capitalist and economically prosperous China would inevitably evolve to resemble Western democratic nations—was a misguided and overly optimistic expectation. This erroneous belief has permitted Beijing to engage in deceptive trade and military practices for the past 30 years without facing significant repercussions. Today the US is clearly concerned about the way China has strategically weaponised its industrial capabilities by seamlessly integrating its civilian and military sectors through a dual-use strategy that is particularly evident in critical economic and high-tech domains, such as artificial intelligence. By blurring the lines between civilian and military applications, China has been able to enhance its technological and industrial base, thereby posing a multifaceted challenge to global security. Moreover, for the US, the presence of North Korean soldiers in Ukraine serves as a stark indicator of the interconnected nature of the threats emanating from the Indo-Pacific and European regions. For Washington, the collaborative efforts of adversarial states such as China, Russia, Iran and North Korea in Ukraine and other geopolitical theatres necessitate a similarly unified and strategic approach from democratic like-minded nations to strengthening their alliances and enhancing their collective security measures in response to the evolving geopolitical landscape. Interconnected theatres of confrontation China’s alleged support for the Russian war effort in Ukraine and the military cooperation between Russia and North Korea, and Russia and Iran, clearly illustrate the interconnectedness of security dynamics between Europe, the Asia–Pacific region and the Middle East. The ongoing conflict in Ukraine represents a pivotal moment for the stability of the international system, impacting not only Europe but also other parts of the world. Contrary to the characterisation of the conflict in Ukraine as merely a ‘European war’ a few years ago, the war there is now considered by the West to be a globalised conflict with profound international implications. This perspective is widely accepted among the NATO allies, which recognise the growing interconnection between the three theatres of conflict. This attitude is also increasingly reflected in the enhanced dialogue between NATO and the Indo–Pacific Four partners—Australia, New Zealand, Japan and the Republic of Korea. This cooperation is today seen by allies as mutually beneficial and necessary. Beyond exchanges of intelligence, particularly on the challenges posed by China, support for Ukraine dominates the partnership, alongside the joint battle against hybrid threats, progress on cybersecurity and the strengthening of maritime security. It is widely expected that NATO allies will seek to further strengthen this cooperation at the 2025 NATO summit in The Hague. Among NATO members there is, furthermore, a growing consensus on the need to be firm with China. Allies agree on the necessity of sending a stronger message and taking determined and united actions in terms of deterrence, including at the hybrid and cyber levels, as well as on imposing sanctions against Chinese economic operators involved in China–Russia cooperation in Ukraine. While Russia remains the primary long-term threat to the NATO realm, there is recognition that China poses a significant problem that must be addressed in its full magnitude, particularly in the context of China–Russia cooperation. It is essential to act firmly and in a united way to increase the costs of cooperation with Moscow for Beijing while keeping open the necessary avenues of engagement. Any dissonance between Europe and the US on this issue might otherwise become the root cause of the next big crisis of trust in the transatlantic relationship. China versus a Russian–American rapprochement Russia is not fighting its Ukraine war alone. It is receiving help from allies including China, Iran and North Korea. Moreover, the war in Ukraine is not just about Ukraine’s future. It is also part of a larger global struggle, with Russia seeking position alongside China in a reconfigured world order that is more multipolar and less centred on the US. In this respect, China may be inclined to silently assist Russia in opposing a proposed ceasefire or peace plan for Ukraine put forward by President Trump. Beijing likely recognises that by resolving the conflict in Ukraine and fostering better relations with Russia, Trump’s ultimate objective is to reallocate US diplomatic, military and economic resources to address the growing global influence of China and its impact on US national interests. In this respect Putin appears keen to keep President Xi Jinping informed about American attempts at rapprochement and ongoing negotiations concerning Ukraine. Historically, the ‘good relations’ between China and Russia are relatively recent; the stability of this relationship is attributed to the resolution of their border disputes, their complementary economies and their non-interference in each other’s ideological systems. But Moscow treads carefully as it knows it is the junior partner in the relationship. Moreover, the prospect of an American–Russian rapprochement is not viewed by either Moscow or Beijing with any real sense of threat. Ultimately Russia’s offerings to the US are limited; it has also been asserted that any rapprochement would not have an effect on Moscow–Beijing relations, as Sino-Russian ties are not dependent on any third party. Furthermore, regarding the Ukraine war, China maintains that it is ‘not a party’ to the conflict (DPA 2024). China upholds the principles of the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Ukraine while acknowledging Russia’s legitimate security concerns. In the eyes of Beijing, these principles must be reconciled to end the war. Additionally, China opposes unilateral sanctions on Russia but, due to its significant trade ties with the EU and the US, it accepts the Russian sanctions and their secondary effects on the Chinese economy. The ongoing negotiations on Ukraine are perceived by China as creating crucial momentum for achieving peace through dialogue, which should not be an opportunity missed. The American initiative is seen as a continuation of previous efforts, including the Chinese Peace Plan for Ukraine of 2023, the Ukraine Peace Summit 2024 in Switzerland and the Sino-Brazilian Six-Point Plan, also in 2024 (Gov.br 2024). China calls for non-escalation and direct negotiations, noting the signs of the exhaustion of manpower and resources on both the Russian and the Ukrainian sides. Despite China’s apparently laconic stance vis-à-vis the relationship, an American–Russian rapprochement could cause some concerns for Beijing. Economically, Moscow is less relevant to Beijing than Washington or Brussels. However, Russia holds fundamental strategic value due to its extensive land border with China. In the event of an American–Chinese rivalry escalating into direct conflict, Russia could become a lifeline for Beijing, especially if accompanied by a successful American blockade. These potential risks and scenarios, which seem increasingly likely over time, may serve as a significant incentive for China to obstruct the warming of relations between Moscow and Washington. References DPA (2024). China is not a party to Ukraine war, Xi tells Scholz in Beijing. aNews, 16 April. https://www.anews.com.tr/world/2024/04/16/china-is-not-a-party-to-ukraine-war-xi-tells-scholz-in-beijing. Accessed 15 April 2025. European Commission. (2025). Joint White Paper for European defence readiness 2030. JOIN (2025) 120 final (19 March). https://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN/TXT/?uri=CELEX:52025JC0120. Accessed 15 April 2025. Gov.br. (2024). Brazil and China present joint proposal for peace negotiations with the participation of Russia and Ukraine. 23 May. https://www.gov.br/planalto/en/latest-news/2024/05/brazil-and-china-present-joint-proposal-for-peace-negotiations-with-the-participation-of-russia-and-ukraine. Accessed 15 April 2025. This article is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 License (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/)

Defense & Security
Virtual creative lock symbol and microcircuit illustration on flag of China and blurry cityscape background. Protection and firewall concept. Multiexposure

The triple dimension of Chinese cyberspace: defense, science and technology

by Elio Perera Pena

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Abstract Cyberspace has become a crucial area for the governance and sovereignty of states, especially in the case of China which has developed a comprehensive digital governance strategy. The Chinese government prioritized the construction of a technological infrastructure including Artificial Intelligence and Cloud Computing to strengthen its control over Cyberspace and ensure National Security. Introduction The term cyberspace was coined by writer William Gibson in his science fiction novel “Neuromancer” (1984), in which he described it as a consensual virtual reality. Since then, the concept has transcended fiction to become a tangible domain. Cyberspace can be defined as a digital environment created by the global interconnection of computer systems, networks, and devices, where information flows and human interactions take place virtually. It has undergone significant evolution since its inception. In the 1980s and 1990s, it was mainly limited to academic and military networks in the United States, such as ARPANET. With the arrival of the Internet, cyberspace expanded rapidly, incorporating millions of users and giving rise to new forms of communication such as email and online forums. The gradual proliferation of mobile devices and social networks has transformed cyberspace into an omnipresent and integral part of everyday life. In terms of communication and connectivity, it revolutionized the way people communicate by eliminating geographical and temporal barriers. Cryptocurrencies and Fintech [1] are examples of how cyberspace has transformed the economy, creating new opportunities. Regarding its interconnection with culture and entertainment, the digitalization of culture has given rise to new forms of creation and consumption such as music and video streaming, online gaming, and digital art. Cyberspace: A Strategic Domain Cyberspace has become a strategic battlefield for the hemisphere. In China, cyberspace is seen as an essential component of national security and economic development. The Chinese government has implemented strict policies to regulate cyberspace, including the Great Firewall of China, which controls the flow of information and protects digital infrastructure. In the 10th Five-Year Plan (2001–2005), promoting the information technology sector, increasing internet accessibility, and encouraging the use of digital technologies were established as national priorities. At the Chinese Communist Party Congress in 2002, information was recognized as essential for the growth of comprehensive national power; consequently, in 2005, the National Strategy 2006–2020 for Information Development was published. Regarding the treatment, study, and control of cyberspace, the People’s Liberation Army has always granted crucial importance to information and its technical infrastructure for collection, protection, and distribution, given its duty to safeguard national interests. This is demonstrated by an article written by then-Colonel Wang Baocun in the “PLA Daily” in April 1998: “The opportunity created by the new military revolution is once-in-a-lifetime. Our army enjoys many favorable conditions for informatization. Our country has achieved rapid informatization and has the potential energy to extend this work to the military. An important feature of the current Military Revolution is that local informatization begins earlier and develops faster than in the armed forces and is more technologically advanced. After generating sufficient potential energy, the work will extend to the military and trigger a massive military transformation.” (Expósito, 2022) While for most of the so-called West, and thus also for the United States, there are five domains — land, sea, air, space, and cyberspace — Chinese specialists conceive of cyberspace as the interaction of two distinct realms: the electromagnetic spectrum and informatization. In recent decades, China has emerged as a global power in the scientific and technological sphere, consolidating its position through a comprehensive strategy that links the development of science with the expansion of cyberspace. Since the implementation of the "Made in China 2025" Plan, the government has prioritized technological innovation as the engine of development, focusing on areas such as AI, big data, and cybersecurity, positioning China as a leader in the Fourth Industrial Revolution. Launched in 2015, this is an industrial strategy that aims to transform China into a high-tech manufacturing power. The goal is to reduce dependency on foreign technologies and promote local innovation in key sectors such as robotics, AI, electric vehicles, and biotechnology. The Internet of Things (IoT) is an essential component that complements it, enabling the creation of smart factories and more efficient supply chains. “Internet Plus”, also launched in 2015, promotes the integration of the internet with traditional sectors such as agriculture, logistics, and financial services. It seeks to drive the digitalization of the economy and promote the use of emerging technologies like IoT, big data, and cloud computing. The Internet of Things (IoT) is fundamental to Internet Plus, as it facilitates connectivity between devices and systems, enabling the creation of interconnected digital ecosystems. The proliferation of connected devices allows the IoT to support the development of advanced communication platforms such as WeChat and Alipay, which integrate multiple services into a single application. The relationship between these initiatives lies in the fact that IoT acts as a bridge between “Made in China 2025” and “Internet Plus”, enabling the convergence of advanced manufacturing and the digitalization of the economy. On one hand, “Made in China 2025” uses the Internet of Things to modernize industry and improve productivity. On the other hand, “Internet Plus” leverages IoT to create new data-driven services and business models. This synergy has allowed China to position itself as a global leader in technological innovation. The relationship between science and cyberspace has been strengthened thanks to massive investment in research and development (R&D). The country has allocated significant resources to training talent in STEM disciplines (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) and has established centers of excellence in technological innovation, which have enabled the development of AI algorithms applied in sectors such as medicine, logistics, and defense. On the international stage, the People’s Republic of China has adopted a cooperative approach, actively participating in international cybersecurity organizations and promoting initiatives such as the Digital Silk Road, which aims to foster technological development in other nations. The future of the relationship between science and Chinese cyberspace is marked by emerging trends that promise to further transform society. The adoption of technologies such as 5G and Blockchain [2] is redefining how people interact with the digital world. At the same time, as the Asian nation faces the challenge of balancing technological growth with sustainability and social equity, it is developing cyber power strategy as one of the fundamental pillars of its government policy. This strategy is understood as the need to build a robust digital infrastructure that advances quantum technology, A), and their derivatives, aiming for the greatest possible development of all areas involved in the defense of cyberspace. China has positioned itself as a global leader in AI, with companies like Baidu, Alibaba, and Tencent at the forefront of research. In the field of big data, it has leveraged its vast population and the proliferation of connected devices to collect and analyze massive amounts of information, improving efficiency in sectors such as transportation and urban planning. Cyberspace is vulnerable to threats such as cyberattacks, digital espionage, and cyber warfare. In response to these risks, quantum computing offers tools to strengthen cybersecurity. In today’s digital era, quantum computing and cyberspace have become two foundational pillars for technological development and national security. China, as one of the global powers in technological innovation, has invested significantly in both areas, recognizing their potential to transform the economy, defense, and society. Quantum Computing: A New Technological Paradigm Quantum computing represents a revolutionary leap in information processing capabilities. Unlike classical computers, which use bits to represent data as 0 or 1, quantum computers employ qubits, which can exist in multiple states simultaneously thanks to the phenomenon of quantum superposition. This allows for solving complex problems in a very short time, unlike traditional computers, which would require much longer periods. China is increasing its role as a global leader in the research and development of quantum computing. In 2020, the country achieved a historic milestone by demonstrating quantum supremacy with its Jiuzhang computer, capable of performing calculations in minutes that would take the most advanced supercomputers thousands of years. Not only China has placed itself at the forefront of quantum technology, but it also has carried deep implications for cyberspace. Regarding its advancements in this area, China has achieved significant milestones, such as the development of long-distance communication networks — one example being the Beijing–Shanghai backbone network [3]. The link between these elements is manifested in several key areas: 1. Quantum Cryptography and Cybersecurity One of the most significant impacts of quantum computing on cyberspace is its ability to revolutionize cryptography. Quantum algorithms have the potential to break current encryption systems, which form the basis of online security. This poses a threat to critical infrastructure, financial transactions, and secure communications. In response to this challenge, China has invested in the development of quantum cryptography, particularly in Quantum Key Distribution (QKD). In 2016, China launched the world’s first quantum satellite, “Micius”, which demonstrated the feasibility of secure long-distance quantum communication. This advancement lays the foundation for a global communication network immune to traditional cyberattacks. 2. Artificial Intelligence and Data Analysis Quantum computing has the potential to accelerate the development of AI and the analysis of large volumes of data. In cyberspace, this translates to greater capacity to detect patterns, predict threats, and optimize networks. The People’s Republic of China, already a leader in AI, has the potential to use quantum computing to strengthen its dominance in cyberspace, both nationally and internationally. Quantum networks enable the transmission of information with unprecedented security levels, reinforcing China’s leadership by strengthening its position in cyberspace and promoting its technological standards internationally. Quantum computing also offers strategic advantages. It could be used to develop more sophisticated cyberweapons capable of disabling enemy systems. It also holds the potential to enhance cyber defense, protecting critical infrastructure from attacks. China has integrated quantum computing into its national defense strategy, recognizing its importance in maintaining superiority in cyberspace. 3. Challenges and Ethical Considerations The global technological race among powers such as the United States is one of the key variables in this challenge and could exacerbate geopolitical tensions. There are ethical concerns about the use of quantum computing in cyberspace. The power of this technology has already been used for malicious purposes such as espionage, cyberattacks, or information manipulation, especially by powers adverse to China. As quantum technology advances, there is growing integration between its components and cyberspace, driving innovation in fields such as secure communication, artificial intelligence, and national defense. China's success in these areas will have global implications, redefining the future of technology and security in this century, toward essential economic, political, and social development goals. China has recognized the importance of cyberspace as a modern battlefield and has developed regulations and strategies to protect its interests in this domain, establishing laws that require companies and organizations to implement strong security measures and report cybersecurity incidents. In this regard, the transformative potential of quantum computing for national defense and security is acknowledged. Quantum technology has been applied to conflict simulation and the analysis of complex scenarios in the military sphere. The rapid development of the IoT presents challenges. The interconnection of devices creates vulnerabilities that can be exploited through cyberattacks on power grids, transportation systems, and more, which could have devastating consequences. China recognized these risks and implemented measures to strengthen cybersecurity. In 2017, the government enacted the Cybersecurity Law, which establishes strict requirements for data protection and network security. On the communication front, authorities have made efforts to promote not only the country’s technological capabilities, but also elements of Chinese culture. Platforms such as TikTok (known domestically as Douyin) have gained global popularity, becoming vehicles to counter negative narratives in Western media. This approach has resonated in other countries, especially in the so-called Global South, with which China has established strategic technological partnerships. 4. Cyberspace and Chinese Cyber Sovereignty Cyber sovereignty refers to the notion that each nation has the right and responsibility to exercise control over its cyberspace, protecting its digital infrastructure, regulating the flow of information, and defending its national interests in the digital realm. For China, this concept is fundamental to its Internet governance approach and aligns with a vision of a regulated and secure Internet. In summary, cyber sovereignty is defined as a condition in which the state has authority over cyberspace within its borders, including the ability to regulate Internet access, control online content, and protect digital infrastructure. It is based on the premise that cyberspace is a strategic domain that must be managed to ensure national security, social stability, and economic development. Its key principles include: State control: The Chinese government exercises strict control over Internet infrastructure and online content.National security: The protection of cyberspace is considered an extension of national defense.Content regulation: Measures are implemented to filter information deemed harmful or contrary to state interests.Technological autonomy: China seeks to reduce dependence on foreign technologies and promote the development of local solutions. Legal and Political Framework The Cybersecurity Law (2017) establishes regulations for data protection, infrastructure security, and online content regulation. Regarding the practical applications of China’s cyber sovereignty, one key element is the ability to exercise surveillance, i.e., the use of advanced technologies to monitor and control the flow of information. Promotion of local platforms: Encouragement of Chinese alternatives to global services (e.g., WeChat instead of WhatsApp, Baidu instead of Google).Development of technological standards: Creation of domestic standards for technologies like 5G and the Internet of Things, aiming to reduce dependence on international norms. International Implications Alternative governance model: China promotes its cyber sovereignty approach as an alternative to the Western model of an open and free Internet.Global influence: Through initiatives like the Digital Silk Road, China offers other countries the opportunity to adopt its model of digital governance and technologies.International tensions: Disputes with other countries over the control of critical technologies and influence in global cyberspace.Balance between security and innovation: Strict control may limit creativity and entrepreneurship in the tech sector. Cyber sovereignty is a key link in China’s digital strategy, reflecting its state control and national security approach to cyberspace. This concept has enabled the Asian nation to develop a unique model of digital governance, characterized by regulation, promotion of local technologies, and projection of global influence. Internet Governance China has adopted a unique approach to Internet governance, based on the principle of national sovereignty. Unlike the open Internet model promoted by the United States, the Asian country advocates a model in which each nation has the right to regulate and control its own Internet infrastructure. This approach is reflected, among other aspects, in the adoption of policies that restrict access to foreign websites, to protect content aligned with national interests. China has also promoted international initiatives to establish digital governance norms that support its vision of cyber sovereignty. One example is the “Code of Conduct for International Information Security”, presented to the United Nations (UN), which advocates for the respect of national sovereignty in cyberspace and non-interference in the internal affairs of other countries. In response to perceived threats from the United States and other powers, China has strengthened its cyber defense capabilities. One of the most significant initiatives has been the creation of a unit within the People’s Liberation Army specializing in cyber operations. China has denounced the surveillance activities of the United States National Security Agency (NSA). The rivalry driven by the U.S. stems from China’s accelerated development in network technologies and the rise of companies like Huawei, global leaders in technology. The Asian country has sought to counter U.S. influence in cyberspace through strategic alliances with other nations while pursuing diplomatic and technological balance. It has collaborated with Russia on joint cybersecurity policies and has promoted its vision of Internet governance in international forums such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO). The U.S. aggressiveness in the digital realm, aimed at countering China’s rise, could lead to a fragmentation of information technology, particularly in terms of data transmission, where different regions might adopt contradictory standards and regulations. This scenario, known as the “Balkanization of the Internet,” would bring negative consequences for innovation and international cooperation. For this reason, China strives — through its domestic policies and within international forums — to maintain a balance in the use of global cyberspace and in the effective approach to managing digital technologies. While some politicians and academics (Friedberg, Pillsbury) argue that China’s economic and military power will lead to an irrational use of cyberspace, others (Shambaugh, Steinfeld) maintain that China is increasingly integrated into international institutions and the global economy. They also emphasize the Chinese government's growing and sustained concern for international stability. Chinese authorities have had the opportunity to assert that, aside from the United States' aggressive stance, there are common interests between both nations regarding the defense of cyberspace and cybersecurity. For both countries, maintaining cybersecurity is vital for stability and social development. Their strategic approaches are based on serving their national interests, which is why both governments present their respective cyberspace strategies as models to emulate. Both, China and the United States, consider that strategic information must be handled with great care to ensure the proper functioning of public administration and national security. China supports the U.S. perspective on a cybersecurity governance model based on a multistakeholder approach, involving government, private, civil, and military actors in the implementation and execution of responsibilities. Certain reactionary sectors in the United States have worked to prevent possibilities for mutual understanding. In 2018, the U.S. Department of Justice launched the “China Initiative”, aimed at countering what was perceived as economic espionage and intellectual property theft, allegedly carried out primarily by U.S. citizens of Chinese descent. This initiative had several geopolitical consequences: Tension in U.S.–China relations: Considered a discriminatory measure, seen as an attempt solely to contain China's economic and technological rise.Impact on bilateral cooperation: It increased distrust, negatively affecting areas of collaboration such as trade, investment, and joint work in science and technology.Concerns about civil rights: It was criticized by human rights groups and academics for targeting Americans of Chinese descent, creating an atmosphere of fear and self-censorship among Chinese-origin researchers and scholars. In some cases, this led to the loss of international collaborations. In 2021, President Joe Biden’s administration announced the end of the initiative, acknowledging its inappropriateness and the criticism it had drawn. However, in 2023, new accusations emerged involving Chinese nationals, allegedly responsible for flying "spy balloons" over U.S. military installations. A defamatory campaign sought to fuel Sinophobia, and media outlets once again contributed to this narrative. While the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs denied involvement, in the United States, the president convened the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and mobilized several strategic components, including the U.S. Cyber Command (US CyberCom). Several U.S. intelligence analysts, including Christopher Johnson, admitted that the United States conducts espionage against China. The wave of Sinophobia was intended to justify to the public the U.S. efforts to obtain vital information about China’s strategic interests, especially those linked to digital transformation and cyberspace. In 2024, the U.S. government announced that by 2025 it would double tariffs on Chinese semiconductors, while continuing to accuse Beijing of forcing technology transfers and stealing intellectual property. Final Considerations Cyberspace and digital governance are part of a broader war rooted in the cultural dimension of contemporary hegemonic power, which is heightened by the existing links between media and culture and their influence on relationships of domination. A Cold War persists in the form of a battle for individuals' minds, underscoring its ideological nature (Expósito, 2022). With the advance in science, psychological warfare has evolved, largely due to the development of new information and communication technologies. Faced with strong U.S. interference, psychological warfare is closely linked to the justification for dominating cyberspace, interpreted also as political warfare — understood as crisis diplomacy, war of nerves, or dramatic intimidation diplomacy. Through these strategies, the United States seeks to counter China’s remarkable progress in commercial economic development, particularly in the technological sphere. To support these efforts, the U.S. intelligence directorate hires public relations consultants responsible for conducting complex psychological operations in the informational and media domain. One of their main tasks is to validate and frame information production for propaganda purposes, where military communication strategies and tactics are intertwined with and become part of media operations, in which media outlets function as oligopolistic enterprises. According to U.S. intelligence agencies, information is treated as a content-seeking tool used to persuade public opinion, regardless of its truthfulness (for example, the repeated accusations of alleged Chinese spies operating within the United States). Communication is viewed as a vehicle for promoting the communicator’s interests — in other words, an effective way to ensure that a message, with a purely propagandistic purpose, aligns with political interests, serving the agenda of the executive branch and transnational media corporations in the United States, while also considering the specific interests of the State Department and the Department of Defense. With a “prepackaged” message, cyberspace — a concept not yet fully understood by the average citizen — is presented as a stimulus for the development of various cyberspace-related programs in the U.S., such as Cicada, Tripwire, among others. As a result, the People’s Republic of China becomes the subject of a U.S. social experiment, through which this subject — often portrayed through manipulated or falsified narratives — facilitates the enrichment of the aforementioned large transnational media corporations, one of the methods employed by the United States to maintain its hegemony. U.S. authorities, working in tandem with the corporate sector, continue to advocate — so far without the expected success — for the transition of network informatization to the multi-domain sphere, extending from Earth to space and cyberspace. This transition requires a close interconnection of all elements involved, and corresponding training of technical and logistical personnel. The restrictions imposed by the United States on China’s semiconductor industry are clearly aimed at obstructing China’s technological development, as the Asian nation still depends, to some extent, on certain components manufactured in the U.S. or by its allies. Accordingly, the restrictions enforced through the 2022 CHIPS and Science Act limit China’s access to advanced chip manufacturing technologies, such as Extreme Ultraviolet Lithography (EUVL) equipment, essential for producing next-generation semiconductors. It is important to note that chips and Chinese cyberspace are closely interrelated, as chips are fundamental components of the technological infrastructure that sustains cyberspace. In short, they are the technological foundation that enables the operation, expansion, and security of Chinese cyberspace, and their development is strategic for China’s autonomy and competitiveness in the global digital arena. The link between the communication sphere and cyberspace in the People’s Republic of China reflects its development model and its governance vision, aimed at promoting social cohesion. Through the use of advanced technologies and the implementation of policies, China has managed to maintain a high level of control over its digital environment, thereby promoting its national interests. China’s security and defense strategy in relation to cyberspace reflects its aspiration to become a global digital power. By adopting an approach based on national sovereignty, China seeks to protect its interests and counter threats posed by the United States and other powers. In an increasingly interconnected world, it is essential that nations find ways to cooperate in the field of cybersecurity, by establishing standards and norms that promote stability and trust in cyberspace. As one of the leading digital powers, China maintains its commitment to playing a crucial role in balancing the international order. The relationship between quantum computing, cyberspace, and China’s military security and defense regulations is complex and multifaceted. Quantum computing has the potential to revolutionize how information is processed and how security is ensured. China has been a pioneer in integrating quantum computing into its security and defense strategies, which has important implications for global security. The “Internet Plus” initiative served as a key catalyst for China's digital transformation, positioning the country as a global leader in technological innovation. By highlighting the close interdependence between cyberspace and quantum computing, it becomes evident how emerging technologies are transforming the world. China has demonstrated a strong commitment to the development of quantum computing, recognizing its potential to strengthen its position in cyberspace and its global implications that will reshape the future of technology and security in the 21st century. For years now, cyberspace has become part of the obscure content used in propaganda spread by what is referred to as the mainstream press. It is used not only as a critical domain to be protected for the sake of national sovereignty and security, but also as a media spectacle, a staged platform in which the press is employed to convey messages desired by the political and economic executives of countries such as the United States. In such cases, in addition to the legitimate need to protect cyberspace as an intrinsic component of political and social stability, it is also used as a justification for massive financial allocations, supposedly in the name of national integrity, which in reality flow into the coffers of the Military-Industrial Complex. Notes [1] A company that uses technology to offer financial services in an innovative, efficient, and accessible way. The term comes from the combination of the words “finance” and “technology.”[2] Blockchain is a distributed ledger technology that allows information to be stored securely, transparently, and in a decentralized manner. It consists of a chain of blocks linked together, where each block contains a set of verified transactions or data. These blocks are connected through cryptographic techniques.[3] An important high-speed rail line in China that connects the cities of Beijing and Shanghai. Known as the High-Speed Railway, it is one of the busiest and most strategic routes. It was inaugurated on June 30, 2011 and covers an approximate distance of 1,318 km. References Expósito, J. (2022, enero 19). China en el ciberespacio. Revista Ejércitos. http://www.ejercitos.comFriedberg, A. L. (2011). A Contest for Supremacy: China, America and the Struggle for Mastery in Asia. Nueva York: W.W. Norton.Lewis, J. A. (2022). Chinas Cyber Strategy: A Comprehensive Analysis. Center for Strategic and International Studies. En www.centerforstrategicstudiesMinisterio de Defensa Nacional de la República Popular China (2023). Libro Blanco de Defensa Nacional. Beijing: Editorial del Pueblo.Patiño Orozco, G. A. (2021). Una comparativa de los esquemas de ciberseguridad de China y Estados Unidos. OASIS, 34, pp. 107-126. https://doi.org/10.18601/16577558.n34.07Perera Pena, E. “El llamado globo chino y algunas de sus derivaciones estratégicas”. En Revista Cuadernos de Nuestra América. CIPI. La Habana. Cuba. ISSN: 2959-9849.Pillsbury, M. (2015). The Hundred Year Marathon. Chinas Secret Strategy to Replace Americas as the Global Superpower. Nueva York: Henry Holt.Segal, A. (2020). The Hacked World Order: How Nations Fight, Trade, Manueuver, and Manipulate in the Digital Age. New York. Public Affairs.Shambaugh, D. (2013). China Goes Global. The Partial Power. Nueva York: Columbia University Press.Spanish.news.cn 16.3.2023. Libro Blanco. China explora activamente nuevos modelos de “ciberjusticia”. En: www.spanish.xinhunet.comSteinfeld, E. S. (2017). Teams of Rivals: China, the United States, and the Race to Develop Technologies for a Sustainable Future. In J. DeLisle, and A. Goldstein, Chinas Global Engagement: Cooperation, Competition, and Influence in the 21st Century (pp.91-121). Washington: Brookings Institution Press.Zhang, L. (2021). Chinas Quantum Supremacy. Beijing: Tsinghua University Press. Cuadernos de Nuestra América. No. 014 | Nueva Época 2025, Centro de Investigaciones de Política Internacional (CIPI). Under CC BY-NC 4.0 

Defense & Security
ISS052-E-37828 - View of Earth

Space in the international relations of Asia: a guide to technology, security, and diplomacy in a strategic domain

by Saadia M. Pekkanen

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском ABSTRACT This essay brings space into the international relations of Asia. It orients readers to three unfolding trends that are shaping the evolution of the new space race at present – democratization, commercialization, and militarization (DCM). It surveys how these trends reflect, illuminate, or are connected to the theory and practice of international relations (IR) both in global and regional settings in Asia. Where possible, it brings in the space activities of the main independent and autonomous space powers in Asia – China, Japan, India, South Korea, North Korea – and probes what their activities signify for international and regional politics. It ends with some thematic takeaways for space policy, strategy, and diplomacy. Space is a strategic domain, meaning that its uses cut across civilian and military realities and will therefore long remain of vital interest to all states. Since its inception, space has drawn significant and long-standing attention in the fields of law and policy. Lawyers, legal scholars, diplomats, and policy analysts have covered the rise and interpretation of the space law regime in place today, which is centered on a set of space treaties, resolutions, and organized multilateral activities.Footnote1 Thanks to these efforts we have a good understanding of governance frameworks, the challenges they face, and how they may play out in constructing the peaceful uses of outer space. But studies that bring international relations (IR) theory and practice to bear on outer space affairs are far fewer in comparison to the voluminous law and policy literature. While IR scholars have generated works related to other emerging technologies, such as drones, cyberweapons, and artificial intelligence, space generally still remains understudied.Footnote2 This is surprising as the critical infrastructure of space anchors modern economies, militaries, and societies in a way no other technology does. It lies at the intersection of virtually all political, economic, and social forces that have been and will remain of concern to states. The space domain is not aloof from the “harsher realities of politics;”Footnote3 and, in fact, continues to reflect almost every feature of global politics in play – ideology, nationalism, aid, integration, division, and security, for example.Footnote4 Using the lens of states and their national interests, this symposium is among the first comprehensive efforts to combine IR perspectives, space studies, and the history, politics, and economics of Asia – a region with the most dynamic, ambitious, and competent sovereign space powers today. Alongside China, Japan, India, and North Korea, South Korea has risen rapidly as another determined player that is leveraging its industrial capabilities, alliances, and networks to position itself in the unfolding competition of the new space race. Australia and New Zealand, and other countries in South and Southeast Asia have also long been marked with emerging space activities and ambitions.Footnote5 These developments come at a time when both the United States and China are leading two different space regimes that extend beyond territorial matters to Low Earth Orbit (LEO) and celestial bodies.Footnote6 What states are doing in the IR of space, who with, why, and how affects prospects for war and peace. One indication of the importance of space nested in the contemporary geopolitical flux is reflected in The Camp David Joint Statement from August 2023, in which the U.S., South Korea, and Japan seek to enhance trilateral dialogues on space security.Footnote7 This essay guides readers to developments in the space domain, and the ways they connect to the theory and practice of IR. The first part interrogates the idea of the IR of space at the broadest level, and sets out the three principal trends that are shaping its evolution today – democratization, commercialization, and militarization (DCM). The second part then turns to asking where Asia fits in this tapestry, drawing on the intellectual lineage of key debates in the field as well as the findings from this symposium. The third part extracts some thematic takeaways that are likely to be of interest to makers of space policy, strategy, and diplomacy. What is the International Relations of Space? Space has always been – and will long remain – couched in IR theory that is centrally concerned with alternative explanations about competition and cooperation.Footnote8 The paradigmatic or theoretical approach analysts bring to space – such as realism, liberalism, constructivism, and so on – has consequences for relations among and within states.Footnote9 Political scientists are increasingly interested in the theory and practice of the IR of space, and in understanding the implications for real-world collaboration, competition, leadership, and diplomacy.Footnote10 This section provides a guide to the principal actors and the trends of the new space race in which they seek to position. The State in the International Relations of Space For the foreseeable future, outer space affairs will remain rooted in the geopolitics on Earth, and this will necessitate a focus on the makers of policy, strategy, and diplomacy. Nothing about this is new. Space could not escape the “political rivalries of this world” in the old space race; and the idea that U.S. leaders may well have had no option from the late 1950s onwards but to “allow for all possibilities by speaking of idealism and acting with realism” speaks with equal force to the complexities of decision-making in the present space race.Footnote11 The IR of space is about actors, their motivations, and the consequences of their actions for stability in, through, and at the nexus of space. This general framing of the IR of space draws attention away from unproductive and narrow theoretical debates, encourages analytical eclecticism, and privileges a pragmatic, policy-relevant, and problem-focused approach.Footnote12 Further, the approach locates actions and agency in known circumstances, remains deeply attentive to both material and ideational processes over time, is mindful of situational idiosyncrasies, and in sync with the inevitable ups and downs of geopolitics. Frankly, this kind of eclectic pragmatism is necessary in a dynamic domain in which scholars and practitioners want to grapple with visible challenges that need real-world solutions. As in other areas, a focus on states allows us to capture the “deeper political foundations, trajectory, centrality, and implications”Footnote13 of newer developments that can be consequential for the theory and practice of IR. Even when theoreticians are supportive of, opposed to, or merely agnostic about states as a unit of analysis, almost all of them have to grapple with interactive state actions at both the domestic and international levels.Footnote14 The idea of space policy analysis, which draws attention to sub-state actors and drivers of decision-making while crisscrossing levels of analysis, certainly enriches our understanding of major players beyond the West.Footnote15 But in many emerging space countries, and especially in the IR of Asia, the state remains the gatekeeper to the domestic-international nexus. Focusing on states also induces an equality in the IR of space, as many developing and emerging countries do not have the numerous legal, commercial, and nonprofit actors from the advanced industrial world who seek to influence outcomes across international forums and processes. This state-centricism is especially relevant in the strategic space domain − 95% of which comprises dual-use space technologies.Footnote16 In it, states are proactively seeking to position their countries vis-à-vis others because its very duality promises both civilian and military benefits. This reality is reinforced by the present legal space regime, which privileges the role of states as a matter of public international law. As on Earth so also for space, it is ultimately states that back and consume innovative space technologies, design strategies and policies, and construct or scuttle governance in line with their political and economic interests.Footnote17 None of this is to suggest that states are the only actors in the space domain, or that their preferences magically prevail in all matters of policy, strategy, or diplomacy. Rather, at the end of the day, it is states that possess both the ultimate and final authority over their citizens, thus regulating how this collective interacts with its counterparts.Footnote18 The Key Trends Shaping the IR of Space The new space race demands as well a new way of seeing the whole picture, which balances its principal trends without privileging any one of them. All states are presently navigating the intersections of three deeply intertwined trends in the new space race that pose novel questions and challenges for their own security – democratization, commercialization, and the slide from militarization to outright weaponization (DCM).Footnote19 While these trends may be analytically distinct, they are in reality fluid, nonlinear, and synergistic. They are interwoven into the fabric of the IR of space today, and if a problem-focused approach is to lend itself to real-world solutions it is meaningless to talk about strategy or policy concerning one or another in isolation. This has implications for IR theory more generally. A plethora of well-debated approaches, concepts, and constructs mark its two main subfields of international security and international political economy across all regions of the world – war, peace, balance of power, industrial policy, interdependence, governance, norms, diplomacy, for example. These theoretical constructs have to reconcile with the complexities of DCM. Doing so prevents hyperbole about a “knowable and certain future” for organizations, societies, and soldiers with stakes in space.Footnote20 It encourages vigilance about the commercialization-militarization axis fueling gray-zone ventures in space, where a commercial space actor operating for a rival could do what previously was the realm of only government military operations.Footnote21 It prevents naïve thinking that space commerce is unrelated to defense, or that private assets cannot become legitimate military targets in the fog of war.Footnote22 When it comes time to pass United Nations resolutions backed by a leading space power that can govern prospects for space safety how old and new actors in space align diplomatically on a normative basis is affected by their industrial and political interests in the context of DCM.Footnote23 The high-profile return of industrial policy in the U.S. stretches to the space industrial base, and includes efforts to strengthen the resilience of its supply chains with commercial space players and nongovernmental actors.Footnote24 As an analytical rubric, the trends in the DCM triumvirate, fleshed out below, help states see the many moving and equally important parts of the new space race, connect actions and technologies involving their counterparts spread around the world, and build a far more balanced awareness of the policies and strategies necessary to advance their own interests amid all the dynamism. The triumvirate, in short, is a powerful conceptual reminder for all states that “the church of strategy must be a broad one” in the space domain.Footnote25 One trend of the triumvirate stems from changes in manufacturing and accessibility, which have opened up — or “democratized” — the space domain to newcomers. Many of the newer state entrants have created space agencies, written national space legislation, targeted specific manufacturing or regulatory niches, and signed agreements with international partners and private companies. Alongside the rising number of nation-states, this democratization draw in nongovernmental entrants such as commercial startups, activist billionaires, criminal syndicates, and so on who could aid or thwart government objectives.Footnote26 New actors continue to proliferate across all regions and continents, with activities that crisscross the public and private spheres and that affect prospects for transnational collaboration in myriad ways. The year 2023 is illustrative of democratization in practice. In mid August, the SpaceX Crew Dragon spacecraft reached the International Space Station (ISS).Footnote27 This was the seventh crew rotation mission by SpaceX, a private U.S. company, and it carried four civilian agency astronauts from America, Europe, Russia, and Japan. In its previous mission to the ISS, SpaceX flew NASA astronauts, along with those from Russia and the United Arab Emirates. Earlier in May, SpaceX used its Dragon spacecraft and Falcon 9 rocket to launch an all-private astronaut mission to the ISS for a company called Axiom Space, which aims to build the world’s first commercial space station; it then carried passengers from the United States as well as both a male and female astronaut from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.Footnote28 Democratization extends to the moon. With India’s successful soft-landing on the moon in August, yet another Asian country after China now holds the distinction of being on the lunar surface.Footnote29 Private actors in Asia are also part of the tapestry. While a lunar lander attempt by a private Japanese company, ispace, was not successful in April, the company is persevering with bringing both governments and private payloads to the moon.Footnote30 More foundational for the purposes of enabling certainty for commercial transactions are some of the steps ispace took prior to the launch. It was granted a license by the Japanese government to engage in an “in-place” property transfer of ownership of lunar regolith to NASA. All these developments represent a dramatically varied landscape, which also raises challenges for building meaningful consensus in the years ahead.Footnote31 A second trend in the triumvirate is commercialization, driven by a whole new generation of space entrepreneurs. Chief among their unprecedented innovations are reusable rocketry and mega-constellations of satellites, driven by so-called newspace corporations such as SpaceX, Blue Origin, Rocket Lab, Amazon, Planet, ICEYE, Blacksky, Axelspace, and Synspective. Together these companies have not only changed prospects for frequent and cheaper access to space, but they have also changed the geospatial view of virtually all human activities on the planet, whether on land or the oceans.Footnote32 These newer entrants present competition for more established players like Boeing, Arianespace, Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Mitsui, and Thales Alenia, for example. All these corporations seek profitable niches in the global space economy, which one estimate puts at a minimum of $384 billion in 2022 and others put higher.Footnote33 Notably, the present satellite industry accounts for over 70% of the space economy. This indicates a “space-for-earth” economy, meaning space goods and services with direct use on Earth such as telecommunications and internet infrastructure, Earth observation satellites, military satellites, and so on.Footnote34 This reality accounted for 95% of the revenues earned in the space sector in 2019. Given the dependence of the global economy on space-based assets, some argue the commercial peace thesis may stay the hand of space-related conflict.Footnote35 This is good news also if the space market grows, as projected, to between $1.1 trillion and $2.7 trillion by the 2040s.Footnote36 But there is a healthy debate about what else may be scalable beyond just the satellite-enabled communications infrastructure that sustains the space economy at present. Further, despite all the rosy projections about the space economy, there is little information about which of the venture-backed private newspace entrants is or likely to be profitable anytime soon. After over two decades of operation, it is only recently that SpaceX, which leads with its rocket launches and internet-satellite business, has reported it generated $55 million in profits on $1.5 billion in revenue in the first quarter of 2023.Footnote37 In the non-satellite segment of the space economy, the search for new markets and customers certainty continues worldwide. But government budgets will matter to the survivability of many innovative technologies, products, and services where market prospects are nascent, emerging, or just plain uncertain. These include, for example, commercial human spaceflight, space stations, lunar landers and habitats, and space resources mining. The total governmental budgets for space programs worldwide is estimated to be between $92.4 billion to $107 billion.Footnote38 The U.S. government leads the world with the largest institutional budget at around $55 billion; setting aside the collective European budget at $14 billion, the single-country budgets that successively follow the U.S. are China (speculatively, $10 billion), Japan (over $4 billion), Russia ($3.5 billion), and India ($1.96 billion). More generally, the presence of government actors alerts us to a range of theoretical political economy considerations that cut across geopolitics and geoeconomics in the space domainFootnote39: the logic of state-centricism in and out of Asia in fostering innovation, the multifaceted drivers of space commercialization and privatization around the world, and the newspace business hype that needs to be reconciled with the dynamics of state interests in economic-security linkages. A final trend in the DCM triumvirate is militarization sliding into weaponization of a dual-use technology. But we may be returning to the historical roots of space technology because what we now think of as dual-use originated as military first.Footnote40 From rockets to satellites to missile defense, civilian and commercial space technologies can be morphed to serve military or national security ends. A state’s military space power can be measured not just by total space expenditures but also latent capabilities in existing commercial architecture.Footnote41 Many actors can access, or collaboratively develop, a wide spectrum of military capabilities while professing to pursue worthy civilian and commercial goals, such as launching rockets, enabling satellite communication, expanding Earth observation, developing GPS capabilities, or servicing malfunctioning satellites. These activities can be legitimized as peaceful and defensive, but their uses can also be converted to offensive purposes. As more actors join space activities and as commercial players spread space products and technologies around the world, the ambiguities of dual-use space technologies make it more and more difficult to distinguish a space asset from a weapon, or space control operations as defensive or offensive. This melding of the commercialization-militarization axis means that many advanced, emerging, and disruptive technologies that are significant for defense applications and for potentially gaining an edge over rivals are couched in commercial rather than military-industrial complexes; these technologies and capabilities are also spread unevenly across geopolitical lines.Footnote42 Depending on their financial and organizational capacities to adopt innovations, states may well face risky scenarios in an international system out of tune with power realities in which the actual balance of power diverges sharply from the distribution of benefits.Footnote43 Further, the problem is that all space assets are equally vulnerable to a range of both kinetic and non-kinetic threats, which can go from an irreversible missile hit to temporarily disabling electronic and cyber attacks on a space asset.Footnote44 Since it is hard to separate military and civilian space services, accidental or purposeful actions against those used by the military would inevitably also affect those used by civilian and commercial stakeholders. Protecting access to space and safeguarding operations within space are, therefore, a vital interest for all states interested in space for national advancement. Unfortunately, no orbit is safe or secure. This is especially concerning for the United States, which is the world’s most space-dependent power, and whose nuclear command-and-control operations worldwide rely on space assets. As of January 2023, roughly 67% of all operating satellites belonged to the U.S., with a significant part of them commercial.Footnote45 This dependence will only grow as U.S.-led mega constellations, as well as other in-space activities, proliferate. Accidents can happen, and this specter is rising as orbits become more and more crowded with civil, commercial, and military activities.Footnote46 Orbital debris, big and tiny leftovers from decades of space activities that whiz around at lethal speeds, already represent known hazards. The ISS often has to maneuver to get out of the way, and functioning satellites are also vulnerable. Satellites can collide accidentally, degrading or ending their operations; human beings can die. But it is the menace of purposeful and deliberate targeting of the space-enabled infrastructure that cannot be ruled out in the geopolitical turmoil today. There is an intensifying strategic competition between the U.S. and its allies, China, and Russia over the making of a new world order.Footnote47 This means also that there are ample incentives for U.S. adversaries to deny the heavily space-dependent United States use of its space assets in peacetime or wartime under cover of dual-use ambiguities; there are also incentives for the U.S. and its allies to do the reverse to adversaries.Footnote48 In all likelihood, every country would suffer under such scenarios, but the heavily space-dependent U.S. would suffer most. Kinetic anti-satellite (ASAT) tests have already been carried out by some of the top spacefaring powers – China (2007), the U.S. (2008), India (2019), and Russia (2021) – and have led to a U.S. declaration to ban them.Footnote49 In the non-kinetic realm, cyber attacks are a looming realistic threat for satellites and other space assets just as they for any another digitized critical infrastructure.Footnote50 Many key U.S. allies, such as Japan and Korea as well as members of NATO, see the same threats and, with extended deterrence in mind, have begun working closely with the U.S. to reshape security architectures and postures in the space domain. The war in Ukraine has also changed perceptions worldwide about the safety of the critical infrastructure of space, with Russia’s electronic and cyberattacks targeting satellite systems.Footnote51 Both the U.S. and its allies also understand that targeting U.S. space assets affects the great power status of the U.S. – the basis for its hard and soft power – which is why space will long remain a national and international imperative. Space is also pivotal because it is at the intersection of virtually all emerging and disruptive technology frontiers, such as AI, quantum computing, and cyber weapons, which can potentially affect a country’s military edge over others.Footnote52 One indication of the importance of U.S. space systems to the government for critical national and homeland security functions is reflected in institutional budgets. Worldwide, in 2021, an estimate is that civilian budgets were around $54 billion and military budgets at about $38 billion.Footnote53 The United States stands out relative to the rest of the world, irrespective of the actual size of these budgets, accounting for just under 60% of all government expenditures on space program on a global basis. The U.S. military space budget is estimated to be between roughly $30–34 billion dollars, significantly higher than its civilian budget at around $25–26 billion. With the formation of the U.S. Space Force, and the perceived growing threat to space, these patterns are unlikely to shift and will affect the evolution of U.S.-led space security architectures worldwide. Beyond orbital regimes, there are also concerns about celestial bodies, which include the moon, Mars, comets, and asteroids. The moon has become a prestigious prize. There is a race to put the next humans and outposts on it. While every state wants to be a space nation and to benefit from space-enabled prosperity and security all the way to the moon the simple point is that not all of them can be in the elite club of states who have the will and capabilities to do just that.Footnote54 Collaboration too is likely to remain divisive in the new lunar space race, whether intentional or not.Footnote55 54 countries have already signed the Artemis Accords led by the U.S. since 2020, which contain principles outlining civil exploration in space that are heralded for their openness, transparency, and predictability for all stakeholders.Footnote56 Meanwhile, China has entered into an MOU with Russia to establish an international lunar research station, with multiple scientific and exploration objectives, that is likely to be constructed on the south pole of the moon.Footnote57 The south pole on the moon is where both China and the U.S. have marked out potential landing sites as their new competing lunar programs get underway.Footnote58 It is also the region in which India, a signatory of the Artemis Accords, was instrumental in confirming the presence of water and where it has also soft-landed before anyone else.Footnote59 While no IR analyst can easily predict how the strategic culture of any state will affect its behavior in the context of space resources or space habitats it is foreseeable that such developments are significant for advancing national and relative power.Footnote60 The defense-industrial complex in the United States is paying attention to what all this will mean for the balance of power in space. The LunA-10 framework represents the next-generation quest for an integrated 10-year lunar architecture that could catalyze a commercial space economy with the U.S. in the lead.Footnote61 How competition and collaboration play out depends on how states choose to reconcile the trends of the DCM triumvirate with their own interests as they, and their counterparts, all set their sights on the moon. As technologies are always uncertain and the landscape of allies and rivals can shift, diplomacy for space security may be more necessary than ever as these lunar armadas set off.Footnote62 How Does Space Fit in the International Relations of Asia? The new space race is not going into some vacuum in the study and practice of the IR of Asia. Nor are the regional space politics divorced from the DCM trends that are reshaping prospects for all actors across all continents. There is history and intellectual precedent in how we can expect Asian states to engage with DCM trends, signifying also prospects for conflict and collaboration both in and out of the region. It is especially important to get this narrative right at a time when Asia can boast the greatest concentration of independent and autonomous space powers relative to every other region on the planet, making it pivotal for the future of space security. These are, to date, also the principal powers who have been central to shaping the dynamics of the IR of Asia in the world – China, Japan, India, North Korea, and South Korea. Caveats and Preexisting Works A few things first. This is not the place to get into polemics about what Asia is, a contested term that is perhaps most useful for differentiating it from the equally murky idea of the “West.”Footnote63 For the purposes of this essay the most useful broad category is the one from the United Nations which categorizes Member States into the regional group of the “Asia-Pacific.”Footnote64 This includes countries from Northeast, Southeast, South, Central, and Southwest Asia as well as those from the Pacific islands. This keeps us attuned to not just to the activities of the independent and autonomous space powers, but also others in the broader Asia-Pacific, such as Australia, New Zealand, and others in Southeast, Central, South, and West Asia, who are also making strides and positioning in the DCM triumvirate. This broad sweep is likely to be most useful for understanding the entanglements of the space domain in the years ahead. There is of course a substantial body of knowledge on the IR of Asia. This is also not the place to do justice to the painstaking works that have, over decades, improved our solid understanding of key aspects of the IR of Asia and allowed us to portray region-wide, sub-regional, and extra-regional interactions. A few broad works can only help us extract and reflect on the broad nature of the subject-matter involved in the making of IR of Asia to date, which continues to resonate in debates about whether or not Asia’s geography is “ripe for rivalry.”Footnote65 In very broad brushstrokes the subject-matter includesFootnote66: historical, political, and social forces that have shaped the region over time; the relevance or irrelevance of mainstream Western IR theories; the making and makeup of foreign economic or security policies; the drivers of integration or rivalries amid structural global shifts, the organizational and institutional patterns of governance, for example. More closely mirroring the IR concepts and constructs noted earlier, there are also in the IR of Asia prominent cross-cutting ideas, such as the role of states and industrial policy, economic-security linkages, technonationalism, economic regionalism and interdependence, regional organizations and institutions, balancing, bandwagoning, hedging, alliances and security architectures, and so on. But as in IR more generally, so also regionally there appears to be less of a focus on integrating space technologies into the broader fabric of changed global and regional politics. In terms of work on specific technologies in Asia, there has certainly been longstanding attention on conventional military capabilities, nuclear acquisitions, and ballistic missile defense, all of which can exacerbate security dilemmas. But there is less so on space in particular, though a number of works have contributed to our general understanding of individual space powers in Asia.Footnote67 The findings from this symposium, interwoven with IR themes below, also contributes to advancing these knowledge frontiers with implications for national interests, regional risks, and interstate stability. A cogent case for a space race in Asia back in 2012 did not prejudge any particular outcome for space security. Footnote68 In the broad sweep of space activities across Northeast, Southeast, and South Asian countries, one conclusion at the time was that Asia’s emerging space powers were keenly attuned to keeping score, following relative gains, and marking nationalist advantages vis-à-vis regional rivals. Footnote69 From the benchmark of that study, the question is what has changed in terms of Asian states and their motivations in a world returned to great power competition. Su-Mi Lee raises these questions at the start of this symposium focusing on the case of South Korea: Will South Korea and other Asian states take sides between great powers building competing blocs in the region? Or as a middle power, will South Korea recast itself as an agenda setter, rather than a passive follower, and expand its own network in space development, independently of great powers, and contribute to the peaceful uses of outer space? Jongseok Woo offers up a view on the impact of the ongoing Sino-U.S. rivalry in the Asia-Pacific region specifically on South Korea’s strategic choices in security and military affairs, as well as its space policies. There is a close connection between South Korea’s space policies and its broader economic, security, and military interests. He asserts that South Korea’s choice to align with the United States and China on trilateral cooperation in space development has arisen directly as a response to China’s assertive and aggressive policies in the Asia-Pacific region, which have also fostered negative perceptions about China among South Koreans. Material and Ideational Building Blocks There are also material and ideational building blocks that clue us into the ways space can be brought into the IR of Asia. They can guide work at a theoretical level, illuminate intersections with the politics and trends of the DCM worldwide, lead to distinctive expectations about collaboration and stability, and help us reflect on likely pathways for policy, strategy, and diplomacy in the new space race. There are three thematic clusters fleshed out below that might prove to be fruitful for these aims: (1) the state and industrial policy, intertwined with thinking on technology, economic-security linkages, and geoeconomics, (2) complex regional interdependence including economic integration, supply chains, and institutional governance, and (3) security architectures and alliances amid the changed geopolitical dynamics of the U.S.–China bipolar competition. All these clusters suggest that divorcing military and economic security for states in the region would be an analytical and policy blunder in the new space race. The Evolution of the State and Industrial Policy First, whatever the debates about its nature,Footnote70 the state in the IR of Asia is alive and well. Relative to other actors, it is unlikely to be displaced as the preeminent sovereign entity, particularly in matters of industrial and technological transformations. It has a distinguished pedigree in the region, finding its conceptual role at the center of huge theoretical and policy controversies about states and economic development.Footnote71 At one point, eight economies – Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, the Republic of Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, Taiwan, and Thailand – rose prominently in the international economy, a phenomenon that became known as the “East Asian miracle.”Footnote72 At the heart of the controversy was the role played by states, and whether their interventions in the market made the difference to their economic and industrial transformations. The domestic institutional configurations of the so-called newly industrializing countries (NICs) also drew attention to the reasons why states could manage to undertake industrial policies in the ways they did.Footnote73 All this came at a time of new thinking about the merits of free trade, in which activist trade policies were shown to possibly advantage some countries relative to their competitors especially in high-technology industries.Footnote74 As today, so then, high-technology industries, such as semiconductors, were at the epicenter of controversies about the fairness of then perceived Japanese activism.Footnote75 Asia is again center stage in these policy concerns, such as those about the foundational global value chain in semiconductors that fuel high-technology production and consumption. Between 2016 and 2020, 26 economies in Asia and the Pacific accounted for about 84% of total world integrated circuit exports.Footnote76 They also accounted for about 62% of total world electrical and optical equipment exports in 2021. Long mindful of their positions in the global political economy, all this suggests that for states of all stripes across Asia “developmentalism is not dead,” picking winners is still of interest, and, as in the past for other strategic sectors so also for the foreseeable future, Asian states will remain involved in shaping the frontiers of space technologies to their home advantage.Footnote77 Industrial policy motivations have clearly been a driver of South Korea’s expanding space program, and Kristi Govella points out the South Korean government has considered potential commercial opportunities when making decisions about how to structure its engagement with regional space institutions. The maxim of “rich country, strong army” pervades the intellectual landscape of prominent works, alerting us that for many countries in Asia the synergistic pathway to security comes through technology and the economy. These symbiotic economic-security fundamentals resonate in both regional and country-specific works.Footnote78 Japanese planners, for example, have long enhanced Japan’s technological edge by stimulating the interdiffusion of civil-military applications and the nurturance of a military-commercial axis.Footnote79 While not inattentive to the policy tradeoffs that must be made in practice, the Japanese state remains consistent in the twin goals maximizing both its military and its bargaining power through economic means.Footnote80 China is held up as a techno-security state – innovation-centered, security-maximizing – at a historic moment of bipolarity in world politics in which both China and the U.S. see the economic-security nexus as a pivotal peacetime battleground.Footnote81 These themes resonate also in the idea of geoeconomics – best thought of as “the logic of war in the grammar of commerce” – that would hold in a world of territorial states seeking technological innovation not just for its own sake but to explicitly maximize benefits within their own boundaries.Footnote82 With themes that echo seminal works on economic-security linkages,Footnote83 the practice of geoeconomics means the use of economic instruments in defense of national interests and geopolitical gain while being watchful of the impact on the home country of others doing exactly the same.”Footnote84 Whether geoeconomics is criticized or refined as an idea,Footnote85 is considered relevant or irrelevant to state conduct, or even goes in and out of fashion, its core continues to resonate in lively debates about the nature of statecraft in the IR of Asia.Footnote86 The case of space in South Korea is instructive along these themes. Given that the economics of the space industry require a long-term commitment with massive investments, Wonjae Hwang’s principal argument is in line with the idea of the developmental state. The South Korean government is taking a lead role in developing the space industry, and its core geoeconomic strategy in space manifests in the promotion of public–private partnerships. By building a strong governing structure within the public sector, coordinating with selective private partners, assisting them with financial support and technology transfer, the government has built strong partnerships with private firms in the space industry. There are plans to establish also a guiding public institution, which can make far-sighted plans for space development, implement the plans, and control associated institutions. As a latecomer to the space race but as a critical player in the global supply chains in the space industry, he also discusses how South Korea has promoted international partnerships with other space powers such as the U.S., EU, India, Australia, and the UAE. Complex Regional Interdependence Second, Asian economies and their integration into the international system makes them pivotal players. But indicators suggest that regional economic integration is important too.Footnote87 A regional cooperation and integration index, which tracks and meshes key dimensions across all principal regions of the world is noteworthy.Footnote88 In 2020, the index in which higher values mean greater regional integration, the EU was recorded at 0.59, North America at 0.49, and Asia and the Pacific at 0.43. This puts the Asian region on par with its peers in the global political economy. As concerns about supply chain vulnerabilities rise worldwide, less visible forces behind Asian economic fusion will also rise to shape strategies. In 2014, production networks were acknowledged as outlets for new modes of interstate friction such as between Japan and China but were still seen as reinforcing traditional commercial liberal arguments.Footnote89 Over time, despite the dramatic expansion of global supply chains involving all actors in the region over, the phenomenon remained underappreciated. But work on point finds that they may be more distinct, complex, and unique mechanisms of interdependence, and could well affect prospects for interstate conflict and cooperation in and out of the region.Footnote90 Their very presence complicates blustering proclamations of decoupling or derisking in both regional and global politics. States across Asia remain watchful about trade and investment agreements to enhance their regional and international economic prospects.Footnote91 Whatever the criticisms about this institutional proliferation, it draws attention to Asian standing and strategies relative to other regions. Among the most high-profile developments is the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), with 15 members including 10 ASEAN countries as well as Australia, China, Japan, New Zealand, and South Korea.Footnote92 China and Japan, respectively, account for around 48% and 19% of the RCEP GDP.Footnote93 RCEP’s comparative indicators put it ahead of its peer agreements, with 28% of global trade, 31% of the share of global GDP, and about 30% of world populationFootnote94 The agreement’s economic significance was deemed considerable, with one estimate suggesting it could generate over $200 billion annually to world income, and $500 billion to world trade by 2030.Footnote95 The duality of space technology also creates new dynamics for the IR of space in Asia. Even agreements that are technically about trade can be seen as opportunities to enhance alliances and alter the broader security context.Footnote96 This thinking should be borne firmly in mind in analyses of regional space governance, which is nested in broader international legal and normative frameworks. The degree of institutional density in an issue area, such as preexisting rules or regimes on point, may condition the type of diplomacy countries like China pursue in projects from space stations to lunar research stations.Footnote97 It also affects how countries like Japan can use institutional constructs for political reassurance in the region.Footnote98 At present, two markedly different Asian institutions, the China-led Asia Pacific Regional Space Organization (APSCO) and the Japan-led Asia-Pacific Regional Space Agency Forum (APRSAF) mark diplomatic prospects for the regional dynamics of collaboration and competition stretched over decades.Footnote99 Asia also leads other regions with two other space-centered institutions, the India-led Centre for Space Science Technology and Education in the Asia-Pacific (CSSTEAP) and the China-led Regional Centre for Space Science Technology and Education in the Asia-Pacific. Kristi Govella argues that these institutions have been shaped by broader geopolitical dynamics in the region, and that rising space players like South Korea carefully choose how to engage with these regional institutions on the basis of economic, security, and institutional factors. She further claims that diplomatic engagement with regional space institutions can complement states’ security alliances and bolster relationships with other like-minded strategic partners. Future patterns of regional cooperation will also continue to shape and be shaped by nonhierarchical international regime complexity in the space domain.Footnote100 Current trajectories suggest scenarios in which states’ à la carte approaches affect the integrity of existing cooperative multilateral space law and processes. Security Dynamics and Alliances Third, there is evidence for longstanding expectations that Asia’s economic rise would lead to increased military capacities and modernizationFootnote101 The grouping of Asia and Oceania stands out in this respect.Footnote102 In 2022, it accounted for about $575 billion in military spending, with China, Japan, and South Korea making up 70% of that. This figure is second only to North America with over $900 billion of military spending, the bulk of which is by the United States. Estimates between 2018 and 2022 also suggest that Asia and Oceania accounted for 41% of the total global volume of major arms, the largest compared to other regions; and, with 11% of the total, India is the largest arms importer of all countries. All this should be set against the politics of a region with the busiest sea lanes, nine of the ten largest ports, seven of the world’s largest standing militaries, and five of the world’s declared nuclear nations.Footnote103 The region is also marked by an intensifying bilateral security competition between the U.S. and China that increases the risk of inadvertent escalation of hostilities, entangling conventional, nuclear, and space capabilities.Footnote104 The U.S. has stated outright that it will consider the use of nuclear weapons in the event of any kind of a “significant” nonnuclear strategic attack on its or its allies’ nuclear forces as well as “their command and control, or warning and attack assessment capabilities” whose nodes run in and through space.Footnote105 In believing that the U.S. seeks to lower the threshold for nuclear use and so degrade its conventional strength China is responding by expanding and modernizing both its conventional and nuclear capabilities.Footnote106 A new arms race may well be underway, enmeshing old and new warfighting domains like space and affecting prospects for arms control and strategic stability. Amid these shifting military postures and perceptions, security architectures matter and have received significant attention for their origins, shapes, consequences, and transformations in the IR of Asia.Footnote107 If, prior to the 1990s, Asia was “infertile ground” for security institutions today it seems the opposite is true; new security institutions such as QUAD have come to stand alongside old ones like the ASEAN Regional Forum.Footnote108 The United States is prominent in the region for its creation of a network of bilateral alliances seen not just as instruments of containment against rivals but also as instruments of control over allies.Footnote109 As the view of space as a warfighting domain embeds itself in regional security architectures formal U.S. allies such as Japan and South Korea in the region are coalescing, connecting and responding in distinct ways.Footnote110 As well, they are motivated by other security threats and dynamics – territorial disputes and politics, North Korean missile threats and its other purported scientific missions into space – that have sobered prospects for stability in regional and global politics. Asia is leading the world in how some of these space-centric alliance transformations are coming about, and how they may affect military operations such as communication and intelligence gathering. In practice, the U.S.-led military alliances also serve as contracts in which, while one component is certainly a military commitment, there is also agreement about a continuous (and changing) exchange of space goods and services.Footnote111 The U.S.- Japan Alliance, with its attendant geoeconomic and geopolitical elements in play, is the first bilateral one in Asia to extend to the space domain.Footnote112 Although its legal foundations need far greater clarity in light of existing international space law and policy, as well as shifting nuclear postures, this extension is nevertheless becoming more concrete with the formation of a new subordinate command in Japan for the U.S. Space Force.Footnote113 But these pronounced changes on the military side sit alongside others; the Japanese state is also continuing to bargain to enmesh its civilian and commercial space interests under the umbrella of the alliance, such as those related to GPS or astronauts on the moon. A similar story is unfolding under the U.S.-Korea Alliance. As Scott Snyder notes in this symposium, the combination of South Korea’s entry into the space launch and satellite sectors and the emergence of the Sino-U.S. geostrategic competition have made it possible for both countries to pursue bilateral cooperation within the alliance. Space cooperation within the alliance brings South Korea on board to support U.S.-led development of international norms for use of space and strengthens the U.S. space-based military infrastructure to protect South Korea from adversary threats while also assisting South Korea’s long-term aspirations to gain a part of the commercial space sector. There are also implications for the hub-and-spoke model of U.S. alliances in Asia. It may not have originally encouraged trust and interactions between quasi-allies such as Japan and South Korea that are not directly allied but share the United States (hub) as a common ally. But this model may be transforming in the space domain. Tongfi Kim explains that South Korea–Japan relations, traditionally the weakest link in U.S.–Japan–South Korea trilateral cooperation, have made remarkable progress since the inauguration of South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol in May 2022. Due to the three states’ increasing focus on space security and geopolitical development in East Asia, Kim argues, space cooperation is one of the most promising paths for institutionalizing the trilateral cooperation. What are the Thematic Takeaways? Asian states are not just passive recipients in the new space race but proactive and high-profile shapers of the DCM trends in it. They represent the new forces of democratization, which opens up diplomatic opportunities for new alignments in pursuit of material and normative quests. They know the unprecedented trends in space commercialization can boost their industrial base and position them for economic prosperity in the new frontier. They are attuned to how space militarization can give them a military edge and, carried to its extreme, how weaponization can dash prospects for strategic stability around and above us. A few takeaways stand out. The Gravity of the International Relations of Space Has Shifted to Asia Asia leads all other regions of the world with the highest concentration of independent and autonomous sovereign states – China, Japan, India, South Korea, North Korea – who possess some of the most advanced capabilities for civilian, commercial, and military space. They do not act in unison but are guided by their own national imperatives. Along with Australia and New Zealand, they are also joined by a wide variety of states in Southeast, South, and West Asia who aim for niche capabilities or capitalize on geographic locations. The State in Asia Will Be the Prime Decision-Maker in Shaping Space Activities Consistent with the state-centric nature of the IR of Asia, both the top and emerging spacefaring powers in Asia will seek to shape and balance the DCM trends in line with their own economic and political interests. They will not be dictated to, but can be persuaded through bargaining and communication. Many will try to take advantage of commercial trends abroad while reinforcing them at home, some will try to strike a balance in the commercialization-militarization axis, but a few will attempt to shift it toward offensive purposes. Dual-Use Space Technology is Another Means to Wealth and Security for Asian States All Asian states are interested in acquiring space technology, whether through direct or indirect means, to advance their prosperity and security. This is consistent with a historic intellectual lineage in the region about staying abreast of strategic high-technology sectors that crisscross civilian and military benefits, and that promise to pull other sectors along. The intersection of the space domain with emerging and disruptive technology frontiers – AI, quantum, cyber – is also of vital interest to all principal regional actors. New Patterns of Interconnectedness May Stay the Hand of Space Conflict Space nationalism drives the principal spacefaring states to compete with others in and out of the region. But continued economic integration – trade and investment flows, resilient supply chains, and space assets that facilitate them – also underpin prospects for continued engagement among all regional players. Its disruption is of concern to regional states, as in the U.S. bid to secure critical supply chains for semiconductors worldwide. As well, regional institutions that formally and informally govern relations, including those focused on space, routinize engagements, and information exchanges among all states. U.S.-Led Alliances in Asia are at the Forefront of Transforming into Space Alliances Security institutions in Asia are important for continued dialogue in the region, and for socializing emerging players into the realities of the new space race. But the designation of space as a warfighting domain — and of the U.S. declaration about the need to protect command-and-control structures that underpin extended deterrence — has put U.S.-led alliances with Japan and South Korea at the center of transformations into space alliances. This may affect the “hub and spoke” model, with the spokes also strengthening their relations in the distant future. Much however, depends on the continued domestic political support in the U.S., Japan, and Korea for alliances and such alliance transformations in the years ahead. Asian States Will Be Pivotal to Shaping or Scuttling Prospects for Peace - in Outer Space The capabilities of Asian states make them ideal candidates for large-scale collaboration in space, as well as on the moon and beyond. Diplomatically, they are being courted in the bipolar space competition between the U.S. and China. The rules on which they operate, and who gets to write and interpret them, will matter for patterns of polarity in the IR of space. Some Asian states have responded by signing up to U.S.-led interpretations of the Outer Space Treaty in practice, such as in the Artemis Accords. Other states from Asia may move to the China-led camp with Russia for an international lunar research station. How this soft power competition plays out will affect the rule of law in the peaceful exploration and uses of outer space. Disclosure Statement No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s). Additional information Notes 1. Francis Lyall and Paul B. Larsen, Space Law: A Treatise, 2nd ed. (New York, NY: Routledge, 2018); Tanja Masson-Zwaan and Mahulena Hofmann, Introduction to Space Law, 4th ed. (The Netherlands: Wolters Kluwer, 2019); Schrogl, Kai-Uwe, Peter L. Hays, Jana Robinson, Denis Moura, and Christina Giannopapa, eds., Handbook of Space Security: Policies, Applications and Programs (Volume 1 and 2) (New York, NY: Springer Reference, 2015); Ram S. Jakhu and Joseph N. Pelton, eds., Global Space Governance: An International Study (Cham, Switzerland: Springer, 2017); Frans von der Dunk and Fabio Tronchetti, eds., Handbook of Space Law (Northampton, MA: Edward Elgar, 2015); Cassandra Steer and Matthew Hersch, eds., War and Peace in Outer Space: Law, Policy, and Ethics (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2021). 2. Michael C. Horowtiz, “Do Emerging Military Technologies Matter for International Politics?” Annual Review of Political Science 23, (2020): 385–400. 3. Michael Sheehan, The International Politics of Space (New York, NY: Routledge, 2007), 1. 4. Sheehan, The International Politics of Space, 1–2. 5. James Clay Moltz, Asia’s Space Race: National Motivations, Regional Rivalries, and International Risks (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2012), 158–89. 6. Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Geopolitics Goes into Orbit with the US and China’s Space Ambitions,” East Asia Forum, December 7, 2022, https://www.eastasiaforum.org/2022/12/07/geopolitics-goes-into-orbit-with-the-us-and-chinas-space-ambitions/ (accessed August 27, 2023); Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Unbundling Threats: Alliances and Balancing in the Space Domain,” in The Oxford Handbook of Space Security, eds. Saadia M. Pekkanen and P. J. Blount (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2024), 172–203. (hereafter, The Oxford Handbook of Space Security). 7. The White House, “The Spirit of Camp David: Joint Statement of Japan, the Republic of Korea, and the United States,” Statements and Releases, The White House, last modified August 18, 2023, https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2023/08/18/the-spirit-of-camp-david-joint-statement-of-japan-the-republic-of-korea-and-the-united-states/ (accessed August 26, 2023). 8. Robert L. Pfaltzgraff Jr., “International Relations Theory and Spacepower,” in Toward a Theory of Spacepower: Selected Essays, eds. Charles D. Lutes, Peter L. Hays, Vincent A. Manzo, Lisa M. Yambrick, and M. Elaine Bunn (Washington, DC: National Defense University Press, 2011), 37–56. 9. Darryl Roberts, “Space and International Relations,” The Journal of Politics 50, no. 4 (1988): 1075–90; Michael Sheehan, The International Politics of Space (New York, NY: Routledge, 2007); Dimitrios Stroikos, “International Relations and Outer Space,” International Studies, Oxford Research Encyclopedia of International Studies, last modified October 19, 2022, https://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780190846626.013.699 (accessed August 27, 2023). 10. James Clay Moltz, The Politics of Space Security: Strategic Restraint and the Pursuit of National Interests (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2008); Natalie Bormann and Michael Sheehan, eds., Securing Outer Space (New York, NY: Routledge, 2009); Damon Coletta and Frances T. Pilch, eds., Space and Defense Policy (New York, NY: Routledge, 2009); Deganit Paikowsky, The Power of the Space Club (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2017); John J. Klein, Understanding Space Strategy: The Art of War in Space (New York, NY: Routledge, 2019); Wendy N. Whitman Cobb, Privatizing Peace: How Commerce Can Reduce Conflicts in Space (New York, NY: Routledge, 2020); Daniel Deudney, Dark Skies: Space Expansionism, Planetary Geopolitics and the Ends of Humanity (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2020); Bleddyn E. Bowen, Original Sin: Power, Technology, and War in Outer Space (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2022); Mai’a K. Davis Cross and Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Space Diplomacy: The Final Frontier of Theory and Practice,” The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, no. 2–3 (2023): 193–217; Scott Pace, “A U.S. Perspective on Deterrence and Geopolitics in Space,” Space Policy (2023), https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2023.101565; Dimitrios Stroikos, “Space Diplomacy? India’s New Regional Policy Under Modi and the ‘South Asia Satellite,’” India Review 23, no. 1 (2024): 46–70, https://doi.org/10.1080/14736489.2023.2295715; Saadia M. Pekkanen and P.J. Blount, eds., The Oxford Handbook of Space Security. 11. Walter A. McDougall, The Heavens and the Earth: A Political History of the Space Age (New York, NY: Basic Books, 1985), 178. 12. Peter J. Katzenstein and Rudra Sil, “Eclectic Theorizing in the Study and Practice of International Relations,” in The Oxford Handbook of International Relations, eds. Christian Reus-Smit and Duncan Snidal (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2008), 109–130 (hereafter, The Oxford Handbook of International Relations); Rudra Sil and Peter J. Katzenstein, Beyond Paradigms: Analytic Eclecticism in the Study of World Politics (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010); Rudra Sil and Peter J. Katzenstein, “Analytic Eclecticism in the Study of World Politics: Reconfiguring Problems and Mechanisms across Research Traditions,” Perspectives on Politics 8, no. 2 (2010): 411–31; Stroikos, “International Relations and Outer Space,” 15–17; Scott Pace, “U.S. Space Policy and Theories of International Relations: The Case for Analytical Eclecticism,” Space Policy, 65 (2023): 1–13, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2022.101538; Michael Byers, “Cold, Dark, and Dangerous: International Cooperation in the Arctic and Space.” Polar Record, 55, no. 1 (2019): 32–47, https://doi.org/10.1017/S0032247419000160; Dimitrios Stroikos,“Still Lost in Space? Understanding China and India’s Anti-Satellite Tests Through an Eclectic Approach.” Asropolitics, 21, nos. 2–3 (2023), 179–205, https://doi.org/10.1080/14777622.2023.2277253; and Saadia M. Pekkanen and P. J. Blount, “International Relations Theory and the Evolution of ‘Peaceful Purposes’ in Outer Space,” in The Oxford Handbook of Space Security, 3–21. 13. Etel Solingen, “Introduction: Geopolitical Shocks and Global Supply Chains,” in Geopolitics, Supply Chains, and International Relations in East Asia, ed. Etel Solingen (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2021), 6. 14. David A. Lake, “The State and International Relations,” in The Oxford Handbook of International Relations, eds. Christian Reus-Smit and Duncan Snidal (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2008): 41–61. 15. Stroikos, “International Relations and Outer Space,” 15–17. 16. Joan Johnson-Freese, Space as a Strategic Asset (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2007), 6–7, 30–34. 17. Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Governing the New Space Race,” American Journal of International Law Unbound 113, (2019): 92, https://doi.org/10.1017/aju.2019.16 (accessed August 27, 2023). 18. Lake, “The State and International Relations,” 43. 19. Pekkanen, “Governing the New Space Race,” 92–97. 20. Klein, Understanding Space Strategy, 5. 21. Malcom Davis, “The Commercial Advantage in Space’s Grey Zone,” The Strategist, Australian Strategic Policy Institute (ASPI), last modified June 16, 2021, https://www.aspistrategist.org.au/the-commercial-advantage-in-spaces-grey-zone/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 22. Erwin Sandra, “SpaceX President Gwynne Shotwell: ‘We Would Launch a Weapon to Defend the U.S.,’” SpaceNews, September 17, 2018, https://spacenews.com/spacex-president-gwynne-shotwell-we-would-launch-a-weapon-to-defend-the-u-s/ (accessed September 2, 2020); “Russia Says U.S. Satellite Assisting Ukraine Are ‘Legitimate’ Targets,” Moscow Times, October 27, 2022, https://www.themoscowtimes.com/2022/10/27/russia-says-us-satellites-assisting-ukraine-are-legitimate-targets-a79208 (accessed August 27, 2023). 23. Theresa Hitchens, “UN Committee Endorses US Call for Moratorium on Destructive ASAT Missile Tests,” Breaking Defense, last modified November 3, 2022, https://breakingdefense.com/2022/11/un-committee-endorses-us-call-for-moratorium-on-destructive-asat-missile-tests/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 24. The White House, “United States Space Priorities Framework,” Statements and Releases, The White House, last modified December 1, 2021, https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2021/12/01/united-states-space-priorities-framework/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 25. Hal Brands, “The Indispensable Art: Three Generations of Makers of Modern Strategy,” in The Makers of Modern Strategy: From the Ancient World to the Digital Age, ed. Hal Brands (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2023), 9. 26. David Bauchi and William Wesler IV, “The Democratization of Space: New Actors Need New Rules,” Foreign Affairs 94, no. 3 (May/June 2015): 98–100. 27. Jeff Foust, “Crew-7 Docks with Space Station,” SpaceNews, August 27, 2023, https://spacenews.com/crew-7-docks-with-space-station/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 28. Axiom Space, “Ax-2: The Second Private Mission to the International Space Station,” Missions, Axiom Space, May 21–30, 2023, https://www.axiomspace.com/missions/ax2 (accessed August 27, 2023). 29. BBC News, “Chandrayaan-3: India Makes Historic Landing near Moon’s South Pole,” BBC News, August 23, 2023, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-66594520 (accessed August 27, 2023). 30. Saadia M. Pekkanen, Setsuko Aoki, and Yumiko Takatori, “Japan in the New Lunar Space Race,” Space Policy 2023, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2023.101577 (accessed August 27, 2023). 31. Tanja Masson-Zwaan, “New States in Space,” American Journal of International Law Unbound 113 (2019): 98–102, https://doi.org/10.1017/aju.2019.13 (accessed August 27, 2023). 32. Saadia M., Pekkanen, Setsuko Aoki, and John Mittleman, “Small Satellites, Big Data: Uncovering the Invisible in Maritime Security,” International Security 47, no. 2 (2022): 177–216. https://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00445. 33. SIA, “The 2023 State of the Satellite Industry Report (Executive Summary),” News and Resources, SIA (Satellite Industry Association), last modified 2023, https://sia.org/news-resources/state-of-the-satellite-industry-report/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 34. Matthew Weinzierl and Mehak Sarang, “The Commercial Space Age is Here,” Harvard Business Review, February 12, 2021, https://hbr.org/2021/02/the-commercial-space-age-is-here (accessed August 27, 2023). 35. Whitman Cobb, Privatizing Peace, 11. 36. Jeff Foust, “A Trillion-Dollar Space Industry Will Require New Markets,” SpaceNews, July 5, 2023, https://spacenews.com/a-trillion-dollar-space-industry-will-require-new-markets/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 37. Micah Maidenberg, Corrie Driebusch, and Berber Jin, “Rare Look into Musk’s SpaceX Shows Slim Profit After Losses,” The Wall Street Journal, August 18, 2023, A1. 38. ESPI (European Space Policy Institute), ESPI Yearbook 2022 - Space Policies, Issues and Trends (Vienna, Austria: European Space Policy Institute, August 2023), 138, 15, https://www.espi.or.at/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/ESPI-Yearbook-2022.pdf (accessed August 27, 2023). 39. Howard E. McCurdy, Financing the New Space Industry: Breaking Free of Gravity and Government Support (Switzerland: Palgrave, 2019); James Clay Moltz,“The Changing Dynamics of Twenty-First Century Space Power.” Strategic Studies Quarterly, 13, no. 1 (2019): 66–94; Santiago Rementria, “Power Dynamics in the Age of Space Commercialisation.” Space Policy, 60 (2022): 1–13, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2021.101472; Bohumil Doboš, “Tortoise the Titan: Private Entities as Geoeconomic Tools in Outer Space” Space Policy, 60 (2022): 1–9, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2022.101487; Sarah Liberman “Commercial and Private Actors in Space: What Does This Mean for the International Political Economy?” in The Commercialisation of Space: Politics, Economics and Ethics, eds. Sarah Lieberman, Harald Köpping Athanasopoulos, and Thomas Hoerber, (Routledge, 2023), 15–32. 40. Bowen, Original Sin, 8. 41. Brad Townsend, Security and Stability in the New Space Age: The Orbital Security Dilemma (New York, NY: Routledge, 2020), 31. 42. Michael Raska, Katarzyna Zysk, Ian Bowers, and Richard A. Bitzinger, “Introduction,” Journal of Strategic Studies (Special Issue, Defence Innovation and the 4th Industrial Revolution: Security Challenges, Emerging Technologies, and Military Implications) 44, no. 4 (2021): 451–452. 43. Michael C. Horowitz, The Diffusion of Military Power: Causes and Consequences for International Politics (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010), 11. 44. Challenges to Security in Space: Space Reliance in an Era of Competition and Expansion (Washington, D.C.: United States Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA), 2022), 3–4, https://www.dia.mil/Portals/110/Documents/News/Military_Power_Publications/Challenges_Security_Space_2022.pdf (accessed August 27, 2023). 45. Union of Concerned Scientists, “UCS Satellite Database,” Resources, UCS (Union of Concerned Scientists), last modified January 1, 2023, https://www.ucsusa.org/resources/satellite-database (accessed August 27, 2023). 46. James Clay Moltz, Crowded Orbits: Conflict and Cooperation in Space (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2014). 47. ODNI, “Annual Threat Assessment of the U.S. Intelligence Agency” (ODNI (U.S. Office of the Director of National Intelligence), Washington, D.C., February 6, 2023), https://www.odni.gov/files/ODNI/documents/assessments/ATA-2023-Unclassified-Report.pdf. 48. Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Why Space Debris Cleanup Might be a National Security Threat,” The Conversation, November 13, 2018, https://theconversation.com/why-space-debris-cleanup-might-be-a-national-security-threat-105816 (accessed August 27, 2023); Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Thank You for Your Service: The Security Implications of Japan’s Counterspace Capabilities,” in Policy Roundtable: The Future of Japanese Security and Defense, eds. Jonathan D. Caverley and Peter Dombrowski (Austin, TX: Texas National Security Review, October 1, 2020), 70–89, https://tnsr.org/roundtable/policy-roundtable-the-future-of-japanese-security-and-defense/#essay5 (accessed August 27, 2023). 49. BBC News, “US Bans Anti-Satellite Missile Tests,” BBC News, April 19, 2022, https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-61151141 (accessed August 27, 2023). 50. David Livingstone and Patricia Lewis, “Space, the Final Frontier for Cybersecurity?” Research Paper, International Security Department, Chatham House, The Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1–44, September 2016, https://www.chathamhouse.org/sites/default/files/publications/research/2016-09-22-space-final-frontier-cybersecurity-livingstone-lewis.pdf (accessed August 27, 2023); P. J. Blount, “Space Cybersecurity and US Law,” in Routledge Handbook of Commercial Space Law, eds. Lesley Jane Smith, Ingo Baumann, and Susan-Gale Wintermuth (New York, NY: Routledge, 2023), 503–14. 51. Sandra Erwin, “U.S. Space Force Ramps Up Cybersecurity Spending,” SpaceNews, March 28, 2023, https://spacenews.com/u-s-space-force-ramps-up-cybersecurity-spending/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 52. Michael Raska and Malcom Davis, “The ‘AI Wave’ in Space Operations: Implications for Future Warfare,” in The Oxford Handbook of Space Security, 596–613. 53. ESPI, “ESPI Yearbook 2022,” 140. 54. Paikowsky, The Power of the Space Club, 5. 55. Xiaodan Wu, “The International Lunar Research Station: China’s New Era of Space Cooperation and its New Role in the Space Legal Order,” Space Policy 65, (2023). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2022.101537 56. Jeff Foust, “Argentina Signs Artemis Accords,” SpaceNews, July 27, 2023, https://spacenews.com/argentina-signs-artemis-accords/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 57. Andrew Jones, “China, Russia Enter MOU on International Lunar Research Station,” SpaceNews, March 9, 2021, https://spacenews.com/china-russia-enter-mou-on-international-lunar-research-station/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 58. Andrew Jones, “NASA and China are Eyeing the Same Landing sites Near the Lunar South Pole,” SpaceNews, August 31, 2022, https://spacenews.com/nasa-and-china-are-eyeing-the-same-landing-sites-near-the-lunar-south-pole/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 59. Kenneth Chang, “On the Moon’s South Pole, a Quest for Ice,” New York Times, August 23, 2023, https://www.nytimes.com/2023/08/23/science/on-the-moons-south-pole-a-quest-for-ice.html (accessed August 27, 2023). 60. Namrata Goswami and Peter A. Garretson, Scramble for the Skies: The Great Power Competition to Control the Resources of Outer Space (Lanham, Maryland: Lexington Books, 2020), 4–5. 61. DARPA, “A Framework for Optimized, Integrated Lunar Infrastructure,” News and Events, DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency), August 15, 2023, https://www.darpa.mil/news-events/2023-08-15 (accessed August 27, 2023). 62. Nancy Riordan, Miloslav Machoň and Lucia Csajková, “Space Diplomacy and the Artemis Accords,” The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18 nos. 2–3 (2023): 382. 63. David C. Kang, “Getting Asia Wrong: The Need for New Analytical Frameworks,” International Security 27, no. 4 (2003): 60. 64. United Nations, “Regional Groups of Member States,” Department for General Assembly and Conference Management, United Nations, https://www.un.org/dgacm/en/content/regional-groups (accessed August 27, 2023). 65. Aaron L. Friedberg, “Ripe for Rivalry: Prospects for Peace in a Multipolar Asia,” International Security 18, no. 3 (1993/94): 5–33. 66. Michael E. Brown, Sean M. Lynn-Jones, and Steven E. Miller, eds., East Asian Security (An International Security Reader) (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1996); Michael Yahuda, The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific, 1945–1995 (New York, NY: Routledge, 2000); Kang, “Getting Asia Wrong;” David Shambaugh and Michael Yahuda, eds., International Relations of Asia (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2008 [2014]); Peter J. Katzenstein and Takashi Shiraishi, Beyond Japan: The Dynamics of East Asian Regionalism (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2006); Amitav Acharya and Evelyn Goh, eds., Reassessing Security Cooperation in the Asia Pacific: Competition, Congruence, and Transformation (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2007); Evelyn Goh, “Great Powers and Hierarchical Order in Southeast Asia: Analyzing Regional Security Strategies,” International Security 32, no.3 (2008): 113–57; Mireya Solis, Barbara Stallings, and Saori N. Katada, eds., Competitive Regionalism: FTA Diffusion in the Pacific Rim (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009); Alice Ba, (Re)Negotiating East and Southeast Asia: Region, Regionalism, and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2009); Michael J. Green and Bates Gill, eds., Asia’s New Multilateralism: Cooperation, Competition, and the Search for Community (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2009); Amitav Acharya and Barry Buzan, eds., Non-Western International Relations Theory: Perspectives on and Beyond Asia (New York, NY: Routledge, 2010); Thomas J. Christensen, Worse Than a Monolith: Alliance Politics and Problems of Coercive Diplomacy in Asia (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2011); David C. Kang, East Asia Before the West: Five Centuries of Trade and Tribute (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2012); Avery Goldstein and Edward D. Mansfield, eds., The Nexus of Economics, Security, and International Relations in East Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford Security Studies, 2012); T. J. Pempel, ed., The Economy-Security Nexus in Northeast Asia (New York, NY: Routledge, 2013); Vinod K. Aggarwal and Kristi Govella, eds., Linking Trade and Security: Evolving Institutions and Strategies in Asia, Europe, and the United States (New York, NY: Springer, 2013); Saadia M. Pekkanen, John Ravenhill, and Rosemary Foot, eds., The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2014) (hereafter, The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia); Saadia M. Pekkanen, ed., Asian Designs: Governance in the Contemporary World Order (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2016); Victor Cha, Powerplay: The Origins of the American Alliance System in Asia (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2016). 67. Stroikos, “International Relations and Outer Space,” 15–17. 68. James Clay Moltz, Asia’s Space Race: National Motivations, Regional Rivalries, and International Risks (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2012). 69. Moltz, Asia’s Space Race, 7, 193. 70. Kang, “Getting Asia Wrong,” 84–86. 71. Chalmers Johnson, MITI and the Japanese Miracle: The Growth of Industrial Policy, 1925–1975 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1982); Woo-Cumings, Meredith Woo-Cumings, eds., The Developmental State (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1999). 72. Joseph E. Stiglitz, “Some Lessons from the East Asian Miracle,” The World Bank Research Observer 11, no. 2 (1996): 151–177. 73. Stephan Haggard, Pathways from the Periphery: The Politics of Growth in the Newly Industrializing Countries (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1990). 74. Paul R. Krugman, “Introduction: New Thinking about Trade Policy” in Strategic Trade Policy and the New International Economics, ed. Paul R. Krugman (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1986), 1–22. 75. Laura D’Andrea Tyson, Who’s Bashing Whom? Trade Conflict in High-Technology Industries (Washington, DC: Peterson Institute for International Economics, 1992). 76. ADB (Asian Development Bank). Key Indicators for Asia and the Pacific 2022, 53rd ed. (Manila, Philippines: ADB, August 2022), 242–43, https://www.adb.org/sites/default/files/publication/812946/ki2022.pdf (accessed 27 August 2023). 77. Saadia M. Pekkanen, Picking Winners? From Technology Catch-up to the Space Race in Japan (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2003). 78. T. J. Pempel, “Conclusion: The Uneasy Dance of Economics and Security,” in The Economy-Security Nexus in Northeast Asia, ed. T. J. Pempel (New York, NY: Routledge, 2013), 194; Avery Goldstein and Edward D. Mansfield, “The Political Economy of Regional Security in East Asia,” in The Nexus of Economics, Security, and International Relations in East Asia, eds. Avery Goldstein and Edward D. Mansfield (Stanford, CA: Stanford Security Studies, 2012), 5. 79. Richard J. Samuels, “Rich Nation, Strong Army:” National Security and the Technological Transformation of Japan (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1994), 3. 80. Keisuke Iida, “Linkages Between Security and Economics in Japan,” in The Oxford Handbook of Japanese Politics, eds. Robert J. Pekkanen and Saadia M. Pekkanen (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2022), 676. 81. Tai Ming Cheung, Innovate to Dominate: The Rise of the Chinese Techno-Security State (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2022), 1. 82. Edward N. Luttwak, “From Geopolitics to Geo-Economics: Logic of Conflict, Grammar of Commerce,” The National Interest 20 (Summer 1990): 17–23. 83. Albert O. Hirschman, National Power and the Structure of Foreign Trade (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1945); David A. Baldwin, Economic Statecraft (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985). 84. Robert D. Blackwill and Jennifer M. Harris, War by Other Means: Geoeconomics and Statecraft (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016), 20. 85. Sören Scholvin and Mikael Wigell, “Geo-economic Power Politics: An Introduction,” in Geo-Economics and Power Politics in the 21st Centure: The Revival of Economic Statecraft, eds. Mikael Wigell, Sören Scholvin, and Mika Aaltola (London and New York: Routledge, 2019): 1–13. 86. Nicholas Kitchen, ed., “China’s Geoeconomic Strategy” (IDEAS Special Report SR102, London School of Economics, London, UK, June 2012), 1–53; Keisuke Iida, Japan’s Security and Economic Dependence on China and the United States: Cool Politics, Lukewarm Economics (London and New York: Routledge, 2018); Saori N. Katada, Japan’s New Regional Reality: Geoeconomic Strategy in the Asia-Pacific (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2020); Philippe Le Corre, “Geoeconomic Influencer: Four European Case Studies,” Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, last modified October 15, 2018, https://carnegieendowment.org/files/WP_LeCorre_China_formatted_FINAL_WEB.PDF (accessed August 27, 2023). 87. ADB (Asian Development Bank), Asian Economic Integration Report 2023: Trade, Investment, and Climate Change in Asia and the Pacific (Manila, Philippines: ADB, February 2023), xvi-xix, https://aric.adb.org/pdf/aeir/AEIR2023_complete.pdf (accessed August 27, 2023). 88. ADB, “Dimensional Index,” ARIC (Asia Regional Integration Center), Asian Development Bank (ADB), https://aric.adb.org/database/arcii/dimensions (accessed August 27, 2023). 89. John Ravenhill, “Production Networks in Asia,” in The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia, 362. 90. Solingen, “Introduction: Geopolitical Shocks and Global Supply Chains,” 3. 91. Vinod K. Aggarwal and Ming Gyo Koo, “Designing Trade Institutions for Asia,” in Asian Designs: Governance in the Contemporary World Order, ed. Saadia M. Pekkanen (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2016), 35. 92. Yen Nee Lee, “‘A Coup for China:’ Analysts React to the World’s Largest Trade Deal that Excludes the U.S.,” CNBC, November 15, 2020, https://www.cnbc.com/2020/11/16/rcep-15-asia-pacific-countries-including-china-sign-worlds-largest-trade-deal.html (accessed August 27, 2023); “RCEP: Asia-Pacific Countries Form World’s Largest Trading Bloc,” BBC News, November 16, 2020, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-54949260 (accessed August 27, 2023). 93. UNCTAD (United Nations Conference on Trade and Development), Key Statistics and Trends in Trade Policy 2020: The Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (Geneva, Switzerland: UNCTAD, 2020), 1, https://unctad.org/system/files/official-document/ditctab2020d3_en.pdf (accessed August 27, 2023). 94. Cathleen D. Cimino-Isaacs, Ben Dolven, and Michael D. Sutherland, “Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP)” (IF11891, CRS (U.S. Congressional Research Service), October 17, 2020), Figure 2, https://crsreports.congress.gov/product/pdf/IF/IF11891 (accessed August 27, 2023). 95. Peter A. Petri and Michael Plummer, “RCEP: A New Trade Agreement that will Shape Global Economics and Politics,” Brookings, last modified November 16, 2020, https://www.brookings.edu/blog/order-from-chaos/2020/11/16/rcep-a-new-trade-agreement-that-will-shape-global-economics-and-politics/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 96. Vinod K Aggarwal and Kristi Govella, “Trade Linkages to Traditional and Non-Traditional Security: Lessons and Prospects,” in Linking Trade and Security: Evolving Institutions and Strategies in Asia, Europe and the United States, eds. Vinod K. Aggarwal and Kristi Govella (New York, NY: Springer, 2013), 223–44. 97. Kunhan Li and Maximilian Mayer, “China’s Bifurcated Space Diplomacy and Institutional Density,” The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, nos. 2–3 (2023): 255, https://doi.org/10.1163/1871191X-bja10155 98. Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Japan’s Space Diplomacy in a World of Great Power Competition,” The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, nos. 2–3 (2023): 282–316, https://doi.org/10.1163/1871191X-bja10157 99. Kazuto Suzuki, “The Contest for Leadership in East Asia: Japanese and Chinese Approaches to Outer Space.” Space Policy, 29, no. 2 (2013): 99–106, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spacepol.2013.03.006; James Clay Moltz, “Asian Space Rivalry and Cooperative Institutions: Mind the Gap,” in Asian Designs: Governance in the Contemporary World Order, ed. Saadia M. Pekkanen (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2016), 116–34; Ram S. Jakhu and Joseph N. Pelton, “Global Space Governance from Regional Perspectives,” in Global Space Governance: An International Study, eds. Ram S. Jakhu and Joseph N. Pelton (Cham, Switzerland: Springer, 2017)), 65–86; Dimitrios Stroikos, “Space Diplomacy? India’s New Regional Policy Under Modi and the ‘South Asia Satellite;’” Saadia M. Pekkanen, “China, Japan, and the Governance of Space: Prospects for Competition and Cooperation,” International relations of the Asia-Pacific 21, no. 1 (2021), 37–64. 100. Alter, Karen Alter and Sophie Meunier, “The Politics of International Regime Complexity,” Perspectives on Politics 7, no.1 (2009): 13–24. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1537592709090033 101. Saadia M. Pekkanen, John Ravenhill, and Rosemary Foot, “The International Relations of Asia,” in The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia, 7. 102. SIPRI (Stockholm International Peace Research Institute), SIPRI Yearbook 2023: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security (Summary) (Solna, Sweden: SIPRI, 2023), 8, 11, https://www.sipri.org/sites/default/files/2023-06/yb23_summary_en_1.pdf (accessed August 27, 2023). 103. US Indo-Pacific Command or USINDOPACOM, “USINDOPACOM Area of Responsibility,” About USINDOPACOM (U.S. Indo-Pacific Command), USINDOPACOM, last modified March 2022, https://www.pacom.mil/About-USINDOPACOM/USPACOM-Area-of-Responsibility/ (accessed August 27, 2023). 104. Richard Maher, “Bipolarity and the Future of U.S.-China Relations,” Political Science Quarterly 133, no. 3 (2018): 497–525; Øystein Tunsjø, “The New US–China Superpower Rivalry,” East Asia Forum, April 4, 2020, https://www.eastasiaforum.org/2020/04/04/the-new-us-china-superpower-rivalry/ (accessed August 27, 2023); Øystein Tunsjø, The Return of Bipolarity in World Politics: China, the United States, and Geostructural Realism (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2018); Suisheng Zhao, “The US–China Rivalry in the Emerging Bipolar World: Hostility, Alignment, and Power Balance,” Journal of Contemporary China 31, no. 134 (2022): 169–85; Pekkanen, “Unbundling Threats;” Jennifer Lind, “Half-Vicious: China’s Rise, Authoritarian Adaptation, and the Balance of Power” (unpublished manuscript, 2023). 105. James M. Acton, “Escalation Through Entanglement: How the Vulnerability of Command-and-Control Systems Raises the Risks of an Inadvertent Nuclear War,” International Security 43, no. 1 (2018): 56. 106. Henrik Stålhane Hiim, M. Taylor Fravel, and Magnus Langset Trøan, “The Dynamics of an Entangled Security Dilemma: China’s Changing Nuclear Posture,” International Security 47, no. 4 (2023): 147–151, https://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00457. 107. Christopher Hemmer and Peter J. Katzenstein, “Why is There no NATO in Asia? Collective Identity, Regionalism, and the Origins of Multilateralism,” International Organization 56, no. 3 (2002): 575–607, https://doi.org/10.1162/002081802760199890; Victor D. Cha, “American Alliances and Asia’s Regional Architecture,” in The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia, 737–757; Michael J. Green, “Strategic Asian Triangles,” in The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia, 758–774; Cha, Powerplay; Tongfi Kim, The Supply Side of Security: A Market Theory of Military Alliances (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2016); Jennifer M. Lind, “Keep, Toss, or Fix? Assessing US Alliances in East Asia,” in Sustainable Security: Rethinking American National Security Strategy, eds. Jeremy Suri and Benjamin Valentino (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2016), 297–331, https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780190611477.003.0012; UK Heo and Terence Roehrig, The Evolution of the South Korea-United States Alliance (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2018); Wilhelm Vosse and Paul Midford, eds., Japan’s New Security Partnerships: Beyond the Security Alliance (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 2018); Scott A. Snyder, South Korea at the Crossroads: Autonomy and Alliance in an Era of Rival Powers (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2018); Sheila A. Smith, Japan Rearmed: The Politics of Military Power (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2019); Yasuhiro Izumikawa, “Network Connections and the Emergence of the Hub-and-Spokes Alliance System in East Asia” International Security 45, no. 2 (2020): 7–50, https://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00389; Patricia M. Kim, “China’s Search for Allies: Is Beijing Building a Rival Alliance System?” Foreign Affairs, last modified November 15, 2021, https://www.foreignaffairs.com/articles/china/2021-11-15/chinas-search-allies (accessed August 27, 2023); Iain D. Henry, Reliability and Alliance Interdependence: The United States and Its Allies in Asia, 1949–1969 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2022). 108. Alice D. Ba, “Asia’s Security Institutions,” in The Oxford Handbook of the International Relations of Asia, 667–89. 109. Cha, Powerplay, 5. 110. Raska, Zysk, Bowers, and Bitzinger, “Introduction,” 452. 111. Kim, The Supply Side of Security, 28. 112. Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Space and the US-Japan Alliance: Reflections on Japan’s Geopolitical and Geoeconomic Strategy,” Japanese Journal of Political Science 24, no. 1 (2023): 64–79, https://doi.org/10.1017/S1468109922000317; Saadia M. Pekkanen, “Repositioning the U.S.-Japan Alliance for Space,” Commentary, Center for Strategic Studies and International Studies (CSIS), June 22, 2023, https://www.csis.org/analysis/repositioning-us-japan-alliance-space (accessed August 27, 2023). 113. David Choi, “Space Force is Branching Out with New Subordinate Command in Japan,” Stars and Stripes, last modified August 30, 2023, https://www.stripes.com/branches/space_force/2023-08-30/space-force-new-command-japan-11211743.html (accessed September 2, 2023).

Defense & Security
The flags of the Russia, United States, China and are drawn on a piece of ice in the form of an Arctic iceberg against a blue sky. Conflict of interests in the Arctic, Cold War, Arctic shelf

Divided Arctic in a Divided World Order

by Rasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Introduction Arctic order historically, currently, and in the future reflects the world order. The idea of ‘Arctic exceptionalism’ is not valid and is a poor guide for policy. During Cold War bipolarity, the Arctic was divided between the Soviet Arctic and the Nordic and North American Arctic. US victory and Soviet defeat in the Cold War led to US unipolarity and hegemony which was the basis for a circumpolar (including Russia) liberal (as opposed to realist) Arctic order with organizations, such as the Arctic Council, International Arctic Science Committee, University of the Arctic, Barents and Bering regional cooperation, all on liberal topics such as science, environment, Indigenous rights, people-to-people cooperation.Footnote1 US unipolarity and hegemony are slipping away to world order characteristics of continued US unipolarity and hegemony, Sino-American bipolarity in economics and S&T and multipolarity illustrated by BRICS+. Sino-US competition and US-Russia conflict to the extent of proxy-war in Ukraine reflect these changes. The Arctic, which is de facto divided between the US-led NATO-Arctic and the Russian Arctic, where Russia reaches out to the BRICS+ in diplomacy, economics, and S&T, reflects these changes to world order. There is wishful thinking in the West of returning to post-Cold War US unipolar and hegemonic ‘liberal world order’ or ‘rules-based order’ and the circumpolar liberal Arctic order with it. This wish is probably unrealistic for global trends in demography, economics, S&T, legitimacy, etc. Significant conflict can be expected between the US/West and China and Russia on developments in world order, with the Global South standing by. The Arctic is likely to remain divided between the US-led NATO Arctic and the Russian Arctic seeking engagement with the BRICS+ world for the future with extremely limited cooperation and risk of spill-over from the Ukraine War and other US-Russia-China conflicts. The Arctic in international order There are two common, but invalid, narratives about the Arctic, which are poor guides for policy: First, ‘Arctic exceptionalism’, that the Arctic was apart from international politics and allowed for West-Russia cooperation unlike elsewhere, especially between the Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Second, a presentist discourse, where international interests in the Arctic are seen as rising in the last 15 years, driven by climate change, the Russian flag planting on the seafloor of the North Pole in 2007, and the United States Geological Survey’s assessment of oil and gas resources in 2008, north of the Arctic Circle. Rather, the Arctic has for centuries closely mirrored the international system, whether multipolar with Western colonial empires before the World Wars, bipolar Cold War between the US and the USSR, post-Cold War US unipolarity and hegemony, or the current emerging Sino-American bipolarity and multipolarity. During 2014–2022, cooperation in the Arctic was not exceptional compared to US-Russia non-proliferation cooperation, most notably with the Iran nuclear deal in 2015, or removing chemical weapons from Syria. There was extensive US-Europe-Russia and wider collaboration around the International Space Station. There was extensive energy trade and investment between Russia and Europe, most notably with the Nord Stream 1 and 2 pipelines under the Baltic Sea. The bipolar Cold War Arctic in the bipolar Cold War order Bipolarity with two superpowers standing out from all other great powers due to their demographic, economic, science and technology, military, and ideological weight and global claims, the US and the USSR, shaped the the Cold War order. Bipolar logic shaped the international order. John Mearsheimer explains well the structural logic of a nuclear-armed bipolar superpower security competition, and he points out how each superpower formed ‘bounded orders’ of allies and clients to discipline them and mobilize their resources. These bounded orders were the West for the US with its institutions, and the East Bloc for the USSR.Footnote2 This bipolar logic was also clear in the Arctic, divided between the Nordic and North American Arctic of the West and the Soviet Arctic by the Iron Curtain in Europe and the Ice Curtain in the Bering Strait. Circumpolar Arctic cooperation was limited to the Polar Bear Treaty of 1973 between the USSR, Norway, Kingdom of Denmark, Canada, and the US, Norwegian Soviet joint fisheries management in the Barents Sea, and some Bering Strait cooperation. The Arctic was exceptionally militarized during the Cold War driven by the mutual nuclear deterrence between the US and the USSR, where the Arctic played a central role for geostrategic and technological reasons. The Arctic was the shortest flight path for bombers and missiles, and sea ice offered cover for nuclear ballistic submarines. This exceptional militarization of the Arctic harmed the human security of Arctic local and indigenous communities through forced displacement, security service surveillance, and pollution, including notable nuclear accidents, as the 1968 B52 bomber crash off Northwest Greenland with four H-bombs causing extensive radioactive contamination of much Soviet nuclear material in and around the Kola Peninsula, including sunken submarines with nuclear fuel or weapons on board.Footnote3 Circumpolar liberal Arctic order under US unipolarity The Cold War ended with US victory and Soviet defeat and dissolution, also caused by the US pressuring the USSR into a strategic nuclear arms race, that the Soviet economy could not support. US Navy operations near the Soviet Northern Fleet nuclear bastion around the Kola Peninsula were an important part of this pressure.Footnote4 The Arctic was also part of Mikhail Gorbachev’s attempt to save the USSR by reform and lowering external tension. Gorbachev called the Arctic as a zone of peace, environmental protection and scientific collaboration in his 1987 Murmansk speech, in contrast to being at the heart of a strategic nuclear arms race with the US, which the USSR could not sustain. Gorbachev’s reforms failed to avert the dissolution of the USSR and deep socio-economic, public health, and law and order crisis in Russian society during the 1990s. The Russian State withdrew to a significant extent from its Arctic, leaving military facilities and society behind. Sino-American bipolarity comes to the Arctic The relative distribution of comprehensive material and immaterial power of the strongest States shapes international order. States stay the predominant actors since the emergence of a state system, not denying powerful non-State actors historically and today. The US unipolarity after the Cold War was an exceptional time of international history and not the ‘End of History’ as believed by some quarters in the West (Fukuyama). History is returning to normal with the return of major centres of economic output and science and technology outside the West. Ironically, US unipolarity laid the foundation for the ‘Return of history’, rather than the ‘End of History’. Since the 1990s, the world experienced globalization with economic, science and technology, and cultural integration. The US as the sole superpower provided public goods and facilitated and coordinated many of these economic, scientific, and technological, and cultural flows. Globalization undermined US unipolarity, facilitating the faster relative growth of non-Western States. China’s export-oriented growth, returning it to its historical position as one of the world’s largest economies is the most important dimension for changes to world order. In parallel, other emerging markets have grown adding multipolar dimensions to international order. International Relations theory serves to think about how to respond to the return of China. About 20–25 years ago, Professor Joseph S. Nye (Harvard University) and Professor John Mearsheimer (University of Chicago) articulated two major approaches with coherent theoretical and strategic visions for the Sino-American relationship. Nye, as a liberal institutionalist scholar and policymaker in the Bill Clinton Administration, presented a vision of ‘integrate, but hedge’. China integrated in the US-led world economy as member state of the World Trade Organization, while the US hedged against the rise of China by reinforcing its alliance with Japan.Footnote5 There were strong US and Western liberal expectations of Chinese economic growth and openness leading to political openness and reform. These expectations proved to be belied and ethnocentric. Mearsheimer, in line with his offensive realist theory, clearly outlined how the US had to keep China from becoming a regional hegemon in East Asia through a containment strategy.Footnote6 The US’ China strategy has shifted from the Nye perspective to the Mearsheimer perspective, while Mearsheimer himself is ostracized for his valid, but politically unacceptable, analysis of the Ukraine War. Mearsheimer explains how Sino-American bipolarity works with realist great power State security competition, and how competing great powers form their ‘bounded orders’ of allies and clients to discipline and mobilize these.Footnote7 The US is shaping a NATO+ order of the NATO member states and Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and South Korea. The US is increasingly engaging in trade and technology wars with China to slow down its growth rate, clearly denying its access to fundamental technologies of future knowledge-based economies. A realist focus on relative gains explains US policy to reduce China’s growth rate. China has a population more than three times that of the US with an absolute economy approaching the US economy. The US cannot allow China to catch up relatively with it, as that would imply a much larger Chinese economy than that of the US. Liberals (politically and theoretically) would ascribe the US policy to different domestic political systems, but the logic of anarchy points out how domestic political systems are of secondary concern, and empirically the US firmly bypassed and disciplined the previous Anglo-Saxon superpower, Britain. US-India relations can be expected to deteriorate with India’s socio-economic development, where India has a much younger population than China with great economic growth potential. China predicted the US abandoning its own open and globalized international economic policy out of concern for China’s relative rise to the US. China pursued a domestic and international economic policy much less dependent on US benevolence. In the domestic sphere, China pursued an economy based on domestic demand. Externally, China built up a parallel international economic and science and technology system with the Belt and Road Initiative with the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank. Other bodies, such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization in security reflect parallel orders and institutions to the US-led Western institutions. Sino-American bipolarity also became clear in the Arctic about 10–15 years ago. China started to appear as a diplomatic, economic, science and technology actor in the Arctic. Western surprise and consternation to this development reflects the great difficulties many Westerners have in facing a world, where the Rest takes an interest in the West, and not only the West taking an interest in the Rest as during centuries of imperialism and colonialism. It should not be surprising that China as one of the world’s two largest national economies and science and technology systems (with the US) has interests in the Arctic, or anywhere else in the world. The US is globally present in politics, defence, diplomacy, economics, science and technology, culture, etc. The unfortunate Chinese term of ‘near-Arctic State’ to legitimize Chinese involvement in the Arctic drew much Western ridicule and opposition. In comparison, the US and the West seem to be ‘near-everywhere’ States. One place where the Sino-American bipolar logic appeared soon and clearly has been the Kingdom of Denmark with the North Atlantic and Arctic overseas autonomies of the Faroe Islands and Greenland. The US applies pressure on the Kingdom of Denmark to exclude Chinese investment, science and technology, in line with Mearsheimer’s argument of a superpower building bounded orders to mobilize and discipline allies and clients in security competition with a competing great or superpower. The Faroe Islands are located between Iceland, Norway, and Scotland. They are centrally placed in the Greenland-Iceland-UK Gap controlling North-South access and blocking the Soviet-Russian Northern Fleet going south for NATO or the US and NATO navies going north for USSR/Russia. The Faroe Islands are becoming increasingly independent from Denmark. Huawei has long been a partner for the Faroese telecom company, which planned to continue with Huawei for 5G. This partnership came under increasing scrutiny from Danish and US sides. The Chinese ambassador to Copenhagen during a visit to the Faroe Islands linked the Faroe Islands choosing Huawei with prospects for a Sino-Faroese free trade agreement (the Faroe Islands are outside the EU and pursue an independent trade policy).Footnote8 The US ambassador to Copenhagen publicly spoke strongly against the Faroe Islands collaborating with Huawei for 5 G.Footnote9 Greenland is geographically North American (remember the Monroe Doctrine), crucial to US (North American) homeland defence, and pursuing independence from the Kingdom of Denmark. Greenland and China have for some time eyed each other for investment and science and technology opportunities. Greenlandic independence primarily rests on economic independence from Denmark and human capital. The economic independence should be through, among other domains, mining, where China and Chinese companies were considered as very important likely investors. Copenhagen regarded Sino-Greenlandic mutual interest with great suspicion for a long time, which was evident from the report on Greenlandic mining from 2014.Footnote10 In 2014, the Royal Danish Navy abandoned Grønnedal, a small, remote old naval facility, established by the US during the Second World War, which was put up for sale. A Chinese mining company showed interest in the facility as a logistics hub for future operations in Greenland. The Danish government promptly took the facility off the market maintaining a token naval presence.Footnote11 Developing Greenlandic tourism requires upgrading the airport infrastructure, which is an enormous project for a nation of 57,000 on a 2 M km2 island. One of the finalists to an international tender was the China Construction Communication Company (4C), which might also have provided financing.Footnote12 The Danish government convinced the Greenlandic government to accept a Danish financing (with a Danish stake) of the renovated and new airports against choosing a Danish construction company.Footnote13 The Greenlandic government was reshaped over this intervention with a coalition party leaving in protest over accepting such Danish interference in Greenlandic affairs. In 2017, China publicly presented its interest in a research station in Greenland, including a satellite ground station, which the Government of Greenland might have been positive towards.Footnote14 This idea has never materialized, first probably delayed by the COVID-19 pandemic, but Denmark and the US would never accept a Chinese research station and/or satellite station in Greenland. The US government has made its pressure on the Danish government public, through former Secretary of Defense, General Jim Mattis.Footnote15 China and Iceland spearheaded Sino-Nordic Arctic research cooperation from the official visit of Chinese premier Wen Jiabao to Iceland in 2012. In 2013, the China Nordic Arctic Research Center was founded, a virtual centre of Chinese and Nordic institutions hosted by the Polar Research Institute of China in Shanghai. CNARC has hosted an annual symposium between China and a Nordic country as well as researcher exchange. Today, Sweden has withdrawn from CNARC, and Denmark does not participate, as the participating Nordic Institute of Asian Studies at the University of Copenhagen has been closed. PRIC and RANNÍS (The Icelandic Center for Research, equivalent to Research Council) held the groundbreaking ceremony for the construction of the China-Iceland Aurora Observatory, now China Iceland Arctic Observatory, at Kárhóll, Northeast Iceland, in June 2014, which I attended. The Observatory opened formally—although unfinished—in October 2018. This collaboration had been hampered by the COVID-19 pandemic and negligence from central authorities and research institutions in the capital, Reykjavik. Today, Iceland is under pressure from the US, including a recent visit by US Congressional staffers, to close CIAO.Footnote16 US-Russia Eastern European security competition divides the Arctic US-Russia security competition, especially in Eastern Europe, became increasingly clear from around 2007–2008. In 2007, Russian President Vladimir Putin delivered a speech at the Munich Security Conference, where he unsurprisingly denounced US unipolarity. Russia had rejected US unipolarity and called for multipolarity since the Primakov Doctrine of the 1990s calling for Russia, China, and India to balance the US. In spring 2008, at the initiative of the US—and with French and German reservations—the NATO Bucharest summit invited Georgia and Ukraine to become member states. In the autumn, fighting broke out between Georgia and Russian forces in the separatist enclaves of Abkhazia and South Ossetia leading to Georgia’s defeat. In autumn 2013, the EU proposed an agreement to Ukraine, which forced Ukraine to choose between Russia and the EU. The Ukrainian President rejected the EU’s proposal, leading to popular protests met with government violence and eventually the President fleeing the country. Russia intervened annexing Crimea and supporting an insurgency in the Donbas.Footnote17 In December 2021, Russia proposed a treaty to the US blocking former Soviet Republics from joining NATO and rolling back NATO troops and equipment in Central and Eastern Europe, which was rejected by the US and allies in January 2022. On 24 February 2022, Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, which had led to a war of attrition between Russia and Ukraine. The West extends wide-ranging political, military, economic, and further support to Ukraine and tries to isolate Russia as much as possible. The Rest of the world follows Western policy of isolating Russia to a very limited extent. The Russian annexation of Crimea affected the Arctic in limited ways. The West stopped military dialogues with Russia in the Arctic Security Forces Roundtable and Arctic Chiefs of Defense Forum. The West imposed sanctions on Russian Arctic energy projects, as the US $27 billion Yamal LNG project, which initially had Russian Novatek (60 per cent), French Total (20 per cent), and China National Petroleum Cooperation (20 per cent) ownership. Sanctions forced Novatek to sell 9.9 per cent to the Chinese government’s Silk Road Fund and rely on Chinese bank funding. Russia responded to these sanctions with counter sanctions on Western food exports to Russia, which also affected some Arctic seafood export to Russia. Russia accepted Faroese salmon exports, which led to a boom in Faroese economy. In 2014, there was some protests in the Arctic Council from the Chair, Canada. Otherwise, Arctic Council and other scientific, people-to-people, cooperation continued between Russia and the seven other Arctic States. For Northern Norway, extensive regional cooperation in the Barents region continued. The Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine led to an almost complete Western cessation of Arctic collaboration with Russia. The other seven Arctic countries refused to collaborate with Russia in the Arctic Council, chaired by Russia 2021–2023. The Seven—now all NATO member states—Arctic Council member states have since backed down significantly. The Arctic Council was always more important to them than to Russia, suggesting that this Western brinkmanship was poorly thought through. There are extensive Western sanctions against the Russian economy, including against Russian Arctic energy projects, which were a key basis for developing the Russian Arctic. Russia had sought to develop a Europe-Russia-East Asia energy system with Russian Arctic oil and gas being exported both West to Europe and East to East Asia and with balanced Western and East Asian investments.Footnote18 The West has almost completely cut science and technology relations with Russia, also in the Arctic. The rare exceptions to continued Arctic science collaboration between West and Russia are for instance, the Norway-Russia Barents Sea Fisheries Commission because Norway also depends on this collaboration. The US continues more academic collaboration with Russia than European countries allow themselves; for instance, receiving Russian Fulbright professors. Norway pursued an extensive regional cooperation policy with Russia, Finland, and Sweden in the Barents Region since 1993 with much support for cross-border people-to-people exchange for youth, in education, academia, culture, environment, business development, and further. This collaboration built extensive insight, experience, networks, and access in Russia at North Norwegian institutions, as UiT The Arctic University of Norway, UNN The University Hospital of Northern Norway, the Norwegian Polar Institute, the Arctic Frontiers Conference, businesses such as Akvaplan-Niva marine environmental consultancy, and in academia, civil society, education, and government. The border town of Kirkenes depended for about a third of its economic turnover on trade with Russia. These connections are now almost completely cut by Norwegian government policy. Russian society and politics did become much more closed and authoritarian during this period, but that was for internal political reasons and not directed against Norway. Personally, I had successful high-level academic cooperation with some of the key Russian academic institutions funded by Norwegian public funds until they were forbidden by Norwegian government policy after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. My last personal visit to Moscow was in December 2019, and I was planning to visit with a sizeable group of Norwegian faculty and PhD candidates in April 2020, postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic. The rapid division of world order in a NATO+ and a BRICS++ world The world is separating into a NATO+ grouping of NATO countries and Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and South Korea, under clear US leadership, and the Rest. The Rest, I call BRICS++ for the BRICS+ grouping and many other countries. This separation is clear through demography, economy, and science and technology. Humanity is about 8 billion people, compared to the West, which is about 1 billion, making it a small minority. Humanity is expected to grow to 10 billion, where the West will remain at about 1 billion, a shrinking small minority. The dominance of the West has rested on economic development and science and technology, translated into military force, with a shrinking demographic share of the world economy, scientific and technological development and relative power shifts from the West to the Rest. Legitimacy and credibility divisions are also clearly visible between the NATO+ and the BRICS++ worlds concerning the war in Ukraine, where the West is astonished by its own isolation. To great surprise, the Rest of the world have not followed the West’s attempts to isolate Russia diplomatically and economically. This rejection of the West’s position was clear from the very first UN Security Council debate on the Russian invasion of Ukraine on 24 February 2022. Russian veto and Chinese and Indian abstentions were not surprising, but the abstention by the United Arab Emirates was remarkable considering the close security and other partnerships between the GCC countries and the US and historically the UK. The speech during the debate on 21 February 2022, a few days prior, by the Kenyan ambassador to the Security Council, condemning Russia’s recognition of breakaway regions but reminding that other UNSC permanent members had also violated international law, showed the lack of Western credibility and legitimacy on the issue.Footnote19 Western credibility and legitimacy have eroded further by supporting Israel’s genocide in Gaza since the 7 October 2023 Hamas attack on Israel. The Division of the Arctic in a NATO Arctic and Russian BRICS++ Arctic. The effects of world order on the Arctic are clear, applying the analytical lenses of unipolar, bipolar, and multipolar traits of world order to the Arctic. The world is increasingly becoming Sino-American bipolar, where the US seeks to maintain unipolarity through a global containment strategy of China. This struggle is also evident in the Arctic; for instance, US pressure on the Kingdom of Denmark to exclude Chinese investment, science and technology in the Faroe Islands and Greenland. The US keeps up an ever-stronger anti-Chinese Arctic discourse from Secretary of State Mike Pompeo’s 2019 speech in Rovaniemi, Finland, to US Senator Lisa Murkowski at the Arctic Circle Assembly in Reykjavik in 2024. Russia has opposed US unipolarity since the 1990s, seeking multipolarity. The conflict between US and Russian multipolarity ultimately escalated via the 2014 annexation of Crimea, the 2022 invasion of Ukraine and the proxy war in Ukraine. This conflict has led to an almost complete division of the Arctic into NATO-Arctic (collaborating with the wider NATO+ world and further) and the Russian Arctic. Russia reaches out all it can diplomatically, economically, and in science and technology to the BRICS++ world, especially China and India. The Rest of the World seems restrained from pursuing Russian Arctic opportunities by the risk of US and Western secondary sanctions and other NATO Arctic pushbacks. Conclusion: looking forward for world and Arctic order The world is—as usual for international history—marked by the struggle over the world order among the strongest State actors. This struggle was forgotten especially by European observers during the post-Cold War era, with the illusion of End of History and confounding globalization and modernization with Westernization. Instead, we have had the Return of History and the return of historically very large non-Western economic, science and technology actors as China, followed by others. The current struggle over the world order also shapes the Arctic, as was historically clear, especially during the Second World War and the Cold War. The US is determined to prolong post-Cold War unipolar dominance expressed as ‘rules-based order’, where the US defines the rules, to whom, and when they apply. Europe has found an apparently comfortable and completely dependent position in this US-led order. The Rest of the World less so, with China and Russia explicitly rejecting this US-led order. The conflict over world order between the US and its bounded order in the NATO+ world in Europe, Oceania, and East Asia and the Rest of the World, can only be expected to escalate. The US must either stop Chinese economic, science and technology development (and later other peer competitors), or demographics, economy, science and technology will lead to a more bipolar and multipolar world. Europe by its dependence on the US is forced to follow this US strategy. The war in Ukraine can lead to a frozen conflict, where the overall Russia-West relationship remains highly conflictual, including in the Arctic. Ukrainian defeat or a negotiated settlement with a neutralized Ukraine and cessation of territory to Russia will also probably lead to a decadal severance of economic, science and technology, people-to-people ties between Russia and the West, including in the Arctic. A Russian defeat is unlikely because of difference in Russian and Ukrainian manpower and resources. China is unlikely to allow Russia to succumb to the US, which would put defeated Russia on China’s Northern frontier in China’s own conflict with the US. All in all, world order seems highly conflictual and with increased separation between the NATO+ and the BRICS++ world, which will only bring humanity more conflict and less economic development and growth, unlike the age of post-Cold War globalization. This division will be replicated in the Arctic. Disclosure statementNo potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).Additional informationNotes on contributorsRasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen is Professor at UiT The Arctic University of Norway. Views expressed are personal. Notes 1. Rasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen, ‘Unipolarity and Order in the Arctic’. Nina Græger, Bertel Heurlin, Ole Wæver, Anders Wivel, (Eds.), Polarity in International Relations. Governance, Security and Development, Palgrave Macmillan, Cham, 2022 at https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05505-8_16. 2. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Bound to Fail: The Rise and Fall of the Liberal International Order’, International Security, 43 (4), 2019, pp. 7–50 at https://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00342 3. George Lindsey, ‘Strategic Stability in the Arctic’, Adelphi Papers 241, International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1989. 4. Steven E. Miller, ‘The Return of the Strategic Arctic’, in The Arctic Yearbook, 2023 at https://arcticyearbook.com/images/yearbook/2022/Commentaries/6C_AY2022_Miller.pdf. 5. Joseph S. Nye, ‘The Challenge of China’, in Stephen Van Evera (Ed.) How to Make America Safe: New Policies for National Security, The Tobin Project, Cambridge, MA 2006 at https://tobinproject.org/sites/default/files/assets/Make_America_Safe_The_Challenge_Of_China.pdf. 6. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘The Rise of China Will Not Be Peaceful at All’, The Australian, 18 November 2005 at https://www.mearsheimer.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/The-Australian-November-18-2005.pdf. 7. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Bound to Fail: The Rise and Fall of the Liberal International Order’, International Security, 43 (4), pp. 7–50, 2019 athttps://doi.org/10.1162/isec_a_00342. 8. Thomas Foght, ‘Hemmelig lydoptagelse: Kina pressede Færøerne til at vælge Huawei’ [Secret Sound Recording: China Pressured the Faroe Islands to Choose Huawei]. Danmarks Radio, 2019 at https://www.dr.dk/nyheder/indland/hemmelig-lydoptagelse-kina-pressede-faeroeerne-til-vaelge-huawei. 9. Adam Satariano, ‘At the Edge of the World, a New Battleground for the US and China’, New York Times, 2019 at https://www.nytimes.com/2019/12/20/technology/faroe-islands-huawei-china-us.html. 10. The Committee for Greenlandic Mineral Resources to the Benefit of Society, ‘To the Benefit of Greenland’. Ilisimatusarfik-University of Greenland; University of Copenhagen, 2014 at https://vbn.aau.dk/ws/files/208241864/To_the_benefit_of_Greenland.pdf. 11. Martin Breum, ‘Analyse: Stoppede Danmarks statsminister kinesisk opkøb i Grønland?’ [Analysis: Did the Danish Prime Minister Stop Chinese Acquisition in Greenland?]. High North News, 2018 at https://www.highnorthnews.com/nb/analyse-stoppede-danmarks-statsminister-kinesisk-opkob-i-gronland. 12. Teis Jensen, ‘Greenland shortlists Chinese company for airport construction despite Denmark’s concerns’, Reuters, 2018 at https://www.reuters.com/article/world/greenland-shortlists-chinese-company-for-airport-construction-despite-denmarks-idUSKBN1H32XG/. 13. Statsministeriet, ‘Aftale mellem regeringen og Naalakkersuisut om dansk engagement i lufthavnsprojektet i Grønland og styrket erhvervssamarbejde mellem Danmark og Grønland’ [Agreement Between the [Danish] Government and Naalakkersuisut [Government of Greenland] on Danish Involvement in the Airport Project in Greenland and Enhanced Business Collaboration Between Denmark and Greenland] Statsministeriet. Formandens Departement, 2018 at https://www.stm.dk/media/8148/10-09-2018_aftale_mellem_regeringen_og_naalakkersuisut.pdf. 14. Martin Breum, ‘Kina vil bygge kontroversiel forskningsstation i Grønland’. [China Wants to Build Controversial Research Station in Greenland], 2017 at https://www.information.dk/udland/2017/10/kina-bygge-kontroversiel-forskningsstation-groenland. 15. Damian Paletta and Itkowitz Colby, ‘Trump Aides Look into US Purchasing Greenland after Directives from President’. The Washington Post, 2019 at https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2019/08/16/america-first-greenland-second-is-trumps-latest-white-house-directive/. 16. ‘Letter to Anthony Blinking and Lloyd Austin’, Select Committee on the Chinese Communist Party, United States Congress, 2017 at https://democrats-selectcommitteeontheccp.house.gov/sites/evo-subsites/democrats-selectcommitteeontheccp.house.gov/files/evo-media-document/10.16.24_PRC%20dual%20use%20research%20in%20the%20Arctic__.pdf. 17. John J. Mearsheimer, ‘Why the Ukraine Crisis is the West’s Fault: The Liberal Delusions That Provoked Putin’, Foreign Affairs, September/October, 2014 at https://www.mearsheimer.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Why-the-Ukraine-Crisis-Is.pdf. 18. Mariia Kobzeva and Rasmus Gjedssø Bertelsen, ‘European-Russian-Chinese Arctic Energy System’,in Xing Li (Ed) China-EU Relations in a New Era of Global Transformation, London: Routledge, London, 2021, 22p. 19. Martin Kimani, ‘Statement by Amb. Martin Kimani, during the Security Council Urgent Meeting on the Situation in Ukraine’, The Permanent Mission of the Republic of Kenya, United Nations Security Council, February 2022 at https://www.un.int/kenya/sites/www.un.int/files/Kenya/kenya_statement_during_urgent_meeting_on_on_ukraine_21_february_2022_at_2100.pdf.

Defense & Security
Black Sea marked with Red Circle on Realistic Map.

War in the Black Sea: The revival of the Jeune École?

by Tobias Kollakowski

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском ABSTRACT This article analyses the naval dimension of the Russo-Ukrainian War in order to examine in which ways Ukraine’s approach to naval warfare in the Black Sea fits with Jeune École concepts – one of the leading naval strategic schools of thought. Having elaborated on the considerable success Ukraine has been able to achieve by applying a Jeune École approach and having explained the limits of Jeune École thinking in the conflict at sea, the article argues that Ukraine should be careful when considering to evolve the war at sea into a symmetrical conflict between conventional fleets.ARTICLE HISTORY Received 7 July 2024; Accepted 18 February 2025KEYWORDS War in the Black Sea; Jeune École; Russo-Ukrainian War; naval strategy; Ukrainian Navy The war that has been raging in the Black Sea since February 2022 is not a clash of titans. Its predominant characteristic are not naval battles between conventional fleets but, on the contrary, the absence of such engagements. Furthermore, as subsequent sections will further detail, most of these actions take place in the littoral. While the maritime dimension of the full-scale Russo-Ukrainian War has joined the Indo-Pakistani Naval War of 1971 and the 1982 Falklands War as among the most destructive naval wars since the end of WW2, the way in which it is waged involves coastal-defence batteries, pin prick attacks by uncrewed aerial systems (UAS), air-launched missile strikes and an asymmetric campaign carried out by uncrewed surface vehicles (USV). Not least important, the divergence between asymmetric and conventional naval warfare has not only informed the ways in which military actions have been carried out. Rather, it goes to the heart of a much larger debate over Ukraine’s fleet design and naval strategy. In this debate between adherents of a blue-water school of thought and advocates of the so-called ‘mosquito fleet’, both fractions have argued over the most appropriate develop- ment of the Ukrainian Navy and its future capabilities. To adopt an analytical framework that is well-suited to the nature of the conflict, both lethal and inter- state in the Black Sea and intellectual and within Ukraine’s military establishment, this article refrains from applying theories connected to prominent theoreticians associated with the blue-water school of thought (the ‘Old School’),1 such as Alfred Thayer Mahan, Philip Howard Colomb or Sir Julian Corbett.2 Literature on contem- porary naval strategy has indeed adopted concepts associated with these schools of thought, for example in the case of Japan (Corbett), the People’s Republic of China and India (Mahan).3 While blue-water concepts may prove beneficial when interpreting the oceanic ambitions and strategies of Asia’s mightiest naval powers, this article instead refers to Jeune École (Young School) naval strategic school of thought – one of the leading schools of thought in naval theory developed by 19th century French naval theoreticians and practitioners. As argued throughout this article, concepts and controversies affiliated with Jeune École (JÉ) are well-suited to explain the developments, circumstances and debates concerning the maritime theatre of the Russo-Ukrainian War. Scholars and experts have recently paid considerable attention to the mar- itime dimension of the Russo-Ukrainian War. Seth Cropsey, for example, argues that access to, and control of, the Black Sea is critical to the outcome of the war and Brent Sadler elaborates on lessons identified from the War in the Black Sea for a potential war involving Taiwan.4 Furthermore, scholars have examined the circumstances and implications of the transformation of a maritime gray zone conflict into a conventional war and the impact of the Russo-Ukrainian War on maritime commerce and the regional naval balance of power.5In a recent study, Md. Tanvir Habib and Shah Md Shamrir Al Af have also usefully explored Ukraine’s innovative usage of naval drones, tracing the lessons, conditions and implications of Ukraine’s approach to the War in the Black Sea and arguing in favour of the adoption of maritime asymmetric warfare strategies and capabilities by smaller countries.6 However, while deeply engaging in the discussion on asymmetric warfare Habib’s and Md Al Af’s analysis does not address the ‘Young School’ of naval strategic thought or matters of naval theory more generally. In contrast to the above-mentioned authors, in his review of the book Vaincre en mer au XXIe siècle, Michael Shurkin does take note of the fact that naval drones ‘perhaps breathe new life into the old vision of the Jeune École’ when he addresses the fact that the authors have not included the Russo-Ukrainian War due to the date of publication. However, given the nature of his article as a book review, Shurkin doesn’t elaborate on this idea.7 This article differs from the existing literature by embedding the War in the Black Sea and differing perceptions on the development of the navy and the appropriate fleet design within larger strategic debates discussed in naval theory. As elaborated in section six of this paper, a traditional assumption expressed by many authoritative voices has it that a JÉ approach is not a viable approach to wage war at sea, especially against an opponent enjoy- ing a much greater superiority in available means. Based on the examination of the case study of the Russo-Ukrainian War, this article shows how many debates surrounding the original 19th century JÉ also apply to the ongoing war in the Black Sea and demonstrates that Ukrainian success at sea and at the coast is closely linked with JÉ thinking. Given the length of the conflict and the great number of events at sea and onshore involving a broad range of topics, a comprehensive summary of the conflict at sea would go far beyond the scope of a single article. Consequently, maritime-related devel- opments are only covered as far as relevant for this article’s research design and to support or dismiss concepts associated with the JÉ naval strategic school of thought. This also means that this paper covers comparatively little on the actual conduct of naval operations. For the level of interpretation as applied in this article, tactics and operations are largely irrelevant. Ultimately, the debate on anti-access and area denial (A2/AD), a topic that has been covered in great depth within the two recent decades,8 has been largely omitted from this article. The reason is as follows. There is some conceptual overlap between the JÉ and the A2/AD debate – especially con- cerning the JÉ’s rebirth in form of the Soviet Molodaya Shkola (Young School). While JÉ could only influence naval policy in France for a few years at the end of the 19th century, elements of JÉ thinking gained prominence approxi- mately three decades later in the newly-established Soviet Union. Taking into consideration the harsh economic situation and the disastrous state of the navy in the early USSR and denouncing blue-water ‘Old School’ thinking as imperialist, advocates of the Molodaya Shkola favoured a naval strategy based on an inshore defence made up of small surface vessels, submarines, mines, coastal artillery and land-based aviation. In contrast to the Molodaya Shkola’s approach to use asymmetric means to counter conventionally super- ior navies that was effectively similar to the French JÉ, there were some differences between the two schools. Probably, the most significant differ- ence concerned the JÉ’s focus on offensive commerce raiding.9 However, whereas denying enemy major surface combatants access to one’s own littoral by employing small heavily armed craft qualifies as being very much in line with A2/AD, JÉ and Molodaya Shkola thinking, the same cannot be said for the extensive use of land-based systems. For example, the traditional ‘Central Mine and Artillery Position’ [RUS: TS͡ entral’naia͡ minno-artilleriĭskaia͡ pozits͡ iia͡ ], the stationary SSC-1 Sepal10 of the Cold War era and the contemporary Russian SSC- 5 Stooge [RUS designation: Bastion] and SSC-6 Sennight [RUS designation: Bal] coastal defence missile systems or Ukraine’s R-360 Neptune anti-ship missiles11 all count as essential elements of the A2/AD discourse. Conceptually, however, they fit much better into ‘coastal defence theory’ and the ‘brick-and-mortar school’ rather than the JÉ.12 Trying to cover all the facets of the naval dimension of the Russo-Ukrainian War would blur the conceptual lines between the differ- ent naval strategic schools of thought. It would deviate this article ever further away from its selected theoretical framework: the original 19th century ideas associated with JÉ thinking. This article comprises seven parts. Part one briefly summarises the princi- pal ideas of the 19th century JÉ as the analytical framework for interpreting Ukraine’s approach to the War in the Black Sea. The second section examines how Ukraine, having successfully withstood the initial Russian offensive, waged naval war against the Russian Black Sea Fleet (BSF) and how the conduct of warfare fits within JÉ thinking. Having elaborated on derivations from JÉ theory as far as commerce warfare is concerned, parts three and four elaborate on the limitations of the applicability of the theory. As shown at different points throughout the article, many essentials of the debate are remarkably similar despite a time difference of 150 years. The fifth section elaborates on the ways in which Ukraine attacks Russia’s maritime critical infrastructure and argues that Ukraine’s approach blends well with the JÉ strategic school of thought. Towards the end, the article presents ongoing debates on Ukraine’s naval future which once again reveal the long-standing aversion of naval leaders to embrace JÉ ideas. While the article does address certain aspects of the Russo-Ukraine War at various points throughout the text, it is in these concluding sections that the debate between ‘Old School’ proponents and the fraction advocating the development of the ‘mosquito fleet’ is illustrated. Readers only interested in this element of the academic discussion may wish to fast-forward to section six. Ultimately, the article argues that essential elements of JÉ thinking have demonstrated their worth as a viable naval strategy, at least on the narrow seas, and should receive more positive appreciation by inferior conflict parties. The origins of Jeune école During the 19th century, French naval thinkers had to tackle the issue of British naval supremacy that rested on a battle fleet vastly superior to its French counterpart while being confronted with the financial and industrial capacities of the British Empire and a redistribution of the military budget prioritising continental warfare as a result of the 1870–71 Franco-German War.13 As a result, JÉ proposed an approach to naval warfare that seeks to avoid the enemy’s fleet and targets the enemy’s sea lines of communication. For this purpose, Baron Richild Grivel, one of the forerunners of JÉ, had already proposed commerce raiding as the ‘the most economical for the poorest fleet’ and ‘at the same time the one most proper to restore peace, since it strikes directly [. . .] at the very source of the prosperity of the enemy’.14 The ideal unit to conduct such a kind of warfare was the cruiser. Drawing conclusions from the Napoleonic Wars, Grivel points out that the immense resources Napoleon had spent in constructing ships of the line (FRA: vaisseaux) would have been much better invested in the construction of quick and well-armed ships capable of waging ‘partisan warfare’.15 Furthermore, late 19th century technological advances played a major role in the calculations of JE supporters. Torpedoes, mines, and submarines made major surface combatants much more vulnerable,16 while the introduction of steam propulsion made naval battles between unlike opponents rather improbable.17 In combination, these developments led Admiral Théophile Aube, a founding father of JÉ, to the conclusion that the ship of the line was not the desired naval vessel for the future.18 When Aube became Naval Minister in 1886, the ideas of JÉ, focusing on means to wage asymmetric warfare,19 were, though only for a relatively short period, practically implemented: Aube halted battleship production, prioritis- ing the acquisition of cruisers, torpedo boats, and gunboats and ordering the construction of the Gymnote, the first French torpedo-equipped submarine.20 Still, there was substantial resistance against JÉ even during its heydays not least because of legal considerations. French naval officers, such as Commander Heuette and Admiral Bourgois, were strongly opposed to the blatant violations of international law JÉ was proposing as it demanded reckless and merciless commerce raiding (FRA: guerre de course).21 Fast, small and numerous – how Ukraine crippled the black sea fleet At the end of March 2022, it had become clear that Russia’s gambit for a quick offensive victory over Ukraine had ended in disaster. At sea, the Russians had achieved some success, among others achieving sea control and capturing Snake Island close to the Ukrainian shoreline, but had failed to carry out a decisive landing operation in the northwestern Black Sea. However, a few weeks after the beginning of the invasion, in April 2022, the Ukrainians employed their land- based sea denial capabilities and following attacks against Russian warships, most notably the cruiser Moskva, by Ukrainian coastal defence forces, the BSF’s position off Ukraine’s Black Sea coast could no longer be sustained.22 Subsequently, Ukraine went on the offensive. As a forward position, main- taining a presence on the island and re-supplying the deployed forces proved particularly difficult for the Russians as Ukrainian forces shelled the island from the Ukrainian coast and targeted vessels carrying out resupply runs to the island. According to different sources, the BSF suffered the loss of several smaller units as, among others, strikes carried out by Bayraktar UAS targeted Russian patrol boats and auxiliary vessels operating in proximity to Snake Island.23 In May 2022, the Russians claimed to have shot down 30 UAS in the Snake Island region in three days.24 Even if these numbers were correct, the effects that relatively cheap, mass-produced drones could exert on Russian equipment at land and at sea, which was expensive and hard to replace, was devastating. After a struggle that had lasted for several months, the Russian military finally withdrew its troops from Snake Island by 30 June 2022.25 Following the withdrawal of BSF from the northwestern Black Sea, the Ukrainians launched an extensive sea denial campaign throughout the entire Black Sea region. Over the next years, numerous Russian warships were reported having been attacked and sometimes fatally damaged by Ukrainian USVs. Examples include the alleged destruction of the corvettes Ivanovets (January/ February 2024) and Sergey Kotov (attacked in September 2023/supposedly sunk in March 2024) and the tank landing ship Tsezar Kunikov (February 2024).26As Habib and Md Al Af argue, the employment of such an asymmetric approach was critical for Ukraine’s ability to withstand the Russian invasion at the time of writing. Asymmetric capabilities both in the air, at sea and on land have made significant contributions to denying the Russians a quick, decisive victory and have pro- tracted the conflict.27 The BSF reacted in various ways, among others, by use of electromagnetic warfare and adding fire power to their naval assets.28 Still, even while Russian naval forces were seeking to adapt, losses were accumulating. After two years of war, naval expert Igor Delanoë assessed, ‘the BSF has not been able to overcome all the difficulties emanating from an asymmetric warfare at sea caused by the Ukrainians’ employment of naval drones and cruise missiles’.29 Already as early as August 2022, British intelligence assessed that Russian patrols were ‘generally limited to waters within sight of the Crimean coast’.30 As elaborated in the following sections, however, neither was navigating close to the shore nor staying in port going to be a viable naval strategy for the Russians. Ukrainian drone tactics involved attacks by swarms of fast USVs that were continuously improved and specialised.31 As in the case of UAS attacks, by employing comparatively cheap USVs Ukraine benefited from a great advan- tage in terms of cost-efficiency when targeting expensive assets such as warships.32 ‘Speed and numbers’, in the words of Røksund the ‘mantra’ of JÉ, 33 stood at the heart of Ukraine’s approach to naval warfare. It is therefore little wonder that Ukrainian scholars themselves have also drawn compar- isons with the Molodaya Shkola school of thought. Ukrainian military journal- ist and historian Oleksandr Vel’mozh͡ ko, for example, points out,In fact, I see here a new ‘edition’, so to speak, of the ‘young school’ - the theory of creating naval forces on the basis of small mine-torpedo, missile, or other currently high-tech weapons that would cost relatively cheap and could be used against large warships.34 Furthermore, various videos released by Ukrainian security agencies show attacks under conditions of low visibility, especially at night, when the drones could take full advantage of their small signatures.35 Immediately, nighttime torpedo boat attacks against bigger and much more heavily armed comba- tants – one of the JÉ’s leitmotif’s [FRA: ‘de nuit, l’avantage est pour les torpilleurs’ – at night, the advantage is for the torpedo boats] – come to mind.36 Essentially, the means and ways which Ukraine applied to erode the BSF’s strength resembled JE thinking at its core. While the asymmetric ways in which Ukraine has countered Russian conven- tional superiority at sea have proven to be exceptionally successful and can serve as a 21st century role model for a JÉ style of naval warfare, the second pillar of JÉ’s warfare concept – offensive commerce raiding – requires elaboration. Firstly, apart from very few instances reported by the Russian conflict party right at the outbreak of hostilities – Russia claimed that Ukrainian missiles had hit the mer- chantmen SGV Flot and Seraphim Sarovsky – Ukraine has abstained from carrying out attacks against Russian civilian shipping. As Raul Pedrozo argues, unless there were specific conditions (see the following section) which qualified both Russian merchant vessels as legitimate military targets, attacks on these vessels would have been inconsistent with the law of naval warfare.37 Whatever the conditions surrounding the alleged attacks against these two civilian ships during the first 24 hours of the war, as far as analysts can tell from publicly accessible information about the war at sea, they were isolated incidents. By no means did Ukraine pursue a naval strategy in which the deliberate targeting of enemy civilian vessels played any role. Secondly, on 5 August 2023, Russian sources reported that the Russian tanker Sig had been struck by Ukrainian forces close to Crimea – a claim that was later confirmed by the Ukrainian conflict party.38 According to various sources, how- ever, Sig was carrying fuel for military purposes to Syria.39 Thus, in this particular case, it was ‘integrated into the enemy’s war-supporting effort’ and ‘due to its behaviour fulfilled the requirements of a military objective’ which also includes ‘transporting war material or transporting or supplying troops’. Consequently, Sig lost its protected status as a merchant vessel and became a legitimate target.40 Thirdly, it is true that on 20 July 2023 the Ukrainian Ministry of Defence published a warning that from 21 July, all vessels headed to Russian ports or Russian-occupied Ukrainian ports may be considered as those carrying military cargo.41 Subsequently, this declaration was also reinforced by remarks made by various Ukrainian senior representatives in the context of the drone strike on tanker Sig who claimed that (every) Russian ship sailing in the Black Sea was now a legitimate target.42 However, the situation surrounding these declarations needs to be taken into consideration. In the context of the termination of the U.N. Grain Initiative and before the Ukrainians, the Russian Ministry of Defence had released a statement which declared that from ‘Moscow time on 20 July 2023, all vessels sailing in the waters of the Black Sea to Ukrainian ports will be regarded as potential carriers of military cargo’.43 Furthermore, at the time, Russia also targeted Ukrainian ships, ports and infrastructure connected with the export of grain.44 As Oleg Ustenko, an economic adviser to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, points out, Ukraine’s ‘move was retaliation for Russia withdrawing from the U.N.-brokered Black Sea grain deal and unleashing a series of missile attacks on agricultural stores and ports’.45 The attack on the port of Novorossiysk had immediate effects on the movement of shipping and the calculation of war risk premiums (marine insurance).46 When both sides had given the opponent a taste of what a potential war on commercial shipping could look like, the smokescreen dispersed. Ukraine abstained from carrying out its threats. Thus, rather than interpreting Ukrainian activities within the framework of JÉ, theories on (non-nuclear) deterrence and strategic communication are much better suited to explain the events concerning civilian shipping in July and August 2023. Nothing remotely resembling a guerre de course-strategy had occurred. Why was this the case, especially in light of the enormous costs Ukraine could cause to Russian seaborne trade in comparison with the small investment associated with a few USVs? Legal constraints associated with the protection of mer- chant ships need to be primarily mentioned in this context.47  Limits to Jeune école – the legal and political dimension Although a comprehensive discussion of the law of naval warfare goes beyond the aims of this article, it is useful to recapitulate a few legal aspects concerning the war at sea. As a matter of principle, hostile merchant vessels do not qualify as legitimate military targets.48 The 1936 London Protocols awarded further protection to the status of merchant ships and clarified the rules of submarine warfare. They state, In particular, except in the case of persistent refusal to stop on being duly summoned, or of active resistance to visit or search, a warship, whether surface vessel or submarine, may not sink or render incapable of navigation a merchant vessel without having first placed passengers, crew and ship’s papers in a place of safety.49 To act in accordance with the law of armed conflict Ukraine would have had to seize Russian merchant vessels as prises and/or proclaim a maritime block- ade against the Russian Federation. In doing so, the Ukrainian Navy would have to enforce this blockade and, as a consequence, could/should have employed a belligerent’s right of visit and search.50 In order to interdict maritime traffic to the Russian coast and given the illegality of non- enforced blockades, both approaches – seizing individual enemy merchant ships and blockading the coastline – would require Ukrainian naval (and/or air) force (surface combatants) detecting civilian vessels, ascertaining their character and cargo and seizing vessels.51 Thus, as Ukraine lacked the surface units and the necessary sea control to seize ships, to enforce a blockade that requires ‘ensuring vessels trying to pass the blockade with sufficient probability’ and to exercise the belligerent’s right of visit, there were basically no options available to Ukraine to take actions against merchant shipping bound for Russian ports, if Ukraine was to act in accordance with the law of naval warfare.52 There are certain conditions when a merchant ship loses its protected status and becomes a legitimate military target, for example, when acting as naval auxiliaries, resisting capture or the belligerent’s right of visit and search or carrying out intelligence or communications functions.53 However, these conditions would not apply to a hypothetical scenario in which Ukraine would wage economic warfare against merchant shipping. Neither were merchant vessels bound for Russian ports sailing in convoys nor could merchantmen sailing towards Russian Black Sea ports generally be considered ‘integrated in Russia’s [and Ukraine’s] war effort’. All the conditions under which merchant ships may be eligible to attack during armed conflicts would not apply. While attacks on unarmed merchant vessels – especially for the weaker side – remains a tempting option in the 21st century as much as it was in the 19th century, the fear to commit blatant breaches of international law have had a discipling effect throughout the centuries. As outlined in section two of this article, the disapproval of the illegal ways of warfighting at sea that had been proposed by JÉ have been as old as this school of thought itself. In addition to the legal constraints that apply to commerce raiding, both sides’ decision not to follow the path leading to unrestricted economic warfare at sea should also be interpreted within the political context. For Ukraine acting in accordance with the law of armed conflict was significant as its support by the global community of liberal-minded states was shaped by these states’ normative understanding of the rules-based world order and international politics.54 Furthermore, both Ukraine and Russia were important exporters of various raw materials and food – particularly as far as the countries of the Global South were concerned. For example, in 2020, 15 countries in Africa imported over 50% of their wheat products from Ukraine or Russia. The impact of the war on the continent was profound as Africa suffered from a shortage of approximately 30 million tons of grains and serious inflation.55 Against this background, it seems clear that the targeting of merchant ships loaded with cargo desperately needed by the most vulner- able regions in the world would have only come at a tremendous political cost for the war parties. As Timothy Heck sums it up, Both the Ukrainians and the Russians wanted the benefits of international commerce and, diplomatically, to gain/earn/keep the goodwill of recipient nations by allowing regulated commercial traffic to escape the war zone.56 Again, similarities with the 19th century debates concerning JÉ are striking. Already in the 1880s influential opponents to JÉ, such as Admiral Bourgois, had criticised that tactics proposed by JÉ and illegal acts of naval warfare would rally neutral countries against France – the last thing an inferior French Navy in a military confrontation with Britain needed.57 While both sides largely refrained from directly targeting merchant ship- ping apart from a few exceptions, strikes against maritime critical infrastruc- ture and onshore facilities, which enabled both maritime commercial and naval operations at sea, evaded many of these constraints. Indeed, as each side intended to attrit the opponent’s ability to use the sea for one’ s own purposes, repeated attacks by various weapon systems against a wide range of maritime targets ashore became another principal characteristic of the Russo-Ukrainian War.  The degradation of Russia’s geostrategic position at the Black Sea Having elaborated on the applicability and the limits of the JÉ approach on the war at sea, the following section takes into consideration the second component of the systematic destruction of Russian naval capabilities in the Azov-Black Sea region: the targeting of Russian maritime infrastructure ashore and in port. In October 2022, a large-scale Ukrainian drone attack against Russian littoral positions attracted wide attention when several unmanned aerial vehicles and autonomous surface vehicles attacked the port of Sevastopol.58 Over the course of the next years, Ukraine repeatedly attacked Russian naval assets stationed on Crimea ashore and at the coast of the peninsula. Examples include strikes against Russian naval aviation at Saky airfield in August 2022, against various targets in the port of Sevastopol in March 2024 – apparently impacting the Ropucha-class tank landing ships Azov and Yamal – or against the Karakurt-class corvette Tsiklon in May 2024.59 Shortly after attacks against Russian infrastructure on Crimea had been reported, reports about Ukrainian strikes against Novorossiysk were pub- lished. In November 2022, a Ukrainian sea drone was reported having struck the Sheskharis oil terminal in Novorossiysk at night.60 As later reported by the newspaper Ukrainska Pravda, the following July, at a presidential meeting, Ukraine’s leadership had decided to launch strikes against Russian port infra- structure as a retaliatory measure for Russian missile and drone attacks on Ukrainian ports in the aftermath of the termination of the grain initiative.61 Subsequently, in early August 2023 movement of vessels was temporarily halted at the Port of Novorossiysk following a Ukrainian drone attack and the Russian tank landing ship Olenegorsky Gornyak suffering serious damage caused by a USV attack.62 Ukrainska Pravda reports on the moment when the Ukrainian drone operators came across various merchantmen while navigat- ing their USVs towards Novorossiysk. ‘Somewhere en route the operators saw a tanker. They asked if it could be perceived as a target. No tankers! If we hit a tanker in neutral waters, then we’ll be branded as some kind of terrorists. Your target is the port. (. . .) ’ a head of the mission said.63 Although this statement was reported by a conflict party and cannot independently be verified, it supports the argument made in the previous section about the limits of the JÉ approach in the case study of the Russo- Ukrainian War as far as the targeting of civilian shipping is concerned.64 Furthermore, and also exactly as in the case of the war on the open sea, the conflict parties had to consider third party opinions. As Ukrainska Pravda reports, following the Ukrainian strike against the port of Novorossiysk, ‘the Country’s Leadership received Warnings from partners at all levels’.65 In 2024, Ukrainian strikes against critical maritime infrastructure continued. In May, for example, Ukrainian attacks were reported on Novorossiysk’s seaport, an oil refinery in Tuapse and the Sevastopol Bay area.66 In early April 2024, Ukrainian Military Intelligence (HUR) published footage of a strike against an oil pipeline in Rostov Oblast that supposedly was used to transport oil products to the local oil depot for tankers in the Azov Sea. According to HUR, ‘the loading of tankers with oil products has been suspended indefinitely’.67 While the claim cannot be confirmed, the concept of striking the production and transport facilities before transportation rather than the merchant ships transporting the cargo highlights approaches to deal with the limits on economic warfare in the maritime dimension as detailed above. Although the BSF had to redeploy further to the eastern part of the Black Sea and Russia attempted to set up maintenance infrastructure further east, Ukraine continuously expanded the range of target locations and has thus been gradually degrading the Russian ability to make use of the sea. In the words of a retired U.S. admiral, ‘If you’re on a Russian naval ship, you’re not safe anywhere in the Black Sea’.68 As another element of Ukraine’s strike campaign, Ukraine has also targeted objectives whose destruction had a long-term impact on Russian naval capabilities and its war-making potential. For example, in July 2022 and in September 2023, Ukraine was reported having struck the naval staff/the headquarters of the BSF in Sevastopol – the latter attack causing devastating effects.69 As far as attacks against Russia’s industrial base and logistical infrastructure are concerned, examples include Ukrainian attacks against the Zaliv shipyard in Kerch, Crimea on 4 November 2023, which reportedly damaged the not yet commissioned Karakurt-class corvette Askold, and the strike against the Ropucha-class tank landing ship Novocherkassk that left the ship sunk at the bottom of the harbour. The strike has thus, extremely likely, rendered one of the main berths of the Feodosia port, which had been in use as an important logistical hub, unusable.70 A particularly devastating strike was carried out on 13 September 2023 when a Ukrainian missile strike hit dry docks of the Sevmorzavod shipyard, maintenance facilities of the BSF, in effect causing extensive damage to the Ropucha-class tank landing ship Minsk and the Kilo-II-mod-class conventional submarine Rostov-on-Don and consequently severing ‘Sevastopol’s ability to undertake maintenance and repairs of Black Sea Fleet vessels, at least until the dry docks at the Sevmorzavod facility (. . .) can be returned to regular use’, as Thomas Newdick points out.71 As the second year of the war was approaching its end, independent experts and Ukrainian military representatives were pointing at serious maintenance support issues confronting the BSF in the future as adequate repair infrastructure in this maritime theatre became a scarce resource.72 In combination, the accumulation of all these strikes over the long term had a serious attrition effect on Russia’s ability to utilise the sea for its purposes. This concerned primarily the military dimension but, as the war progressed and Ukrainian strikes against refineries and port infrastructure accumulated, also gradually the commercial dimension. British representa- tives assessed that 13% to 14% (December 2023) and subsequently 25% (February 2024) of Russia’s Black Sea combatant fleet had been destroyed.73 Moreover, on 26 March 2024, Ukraine’s navy spokesman Dmytro Pletenchuk released Ukraine’s assessment that up to that point in time, approximately a third of the BSF had been destroyed or disabled. 74 After more than two years of war, the strength and presence of the BSF had diminished consider- ably and British Defence Minister Grant Shapps considered the BSF ‘function- ally inactive’ – an assessment further substantiated by the UK Defence Intelligence update the following month75 The BSF has largely withdrawn its ships and submarines from Sevastopol further eastwards to Novorossiysk. Since the removal of the BSF commander in March 2024, the fleet has been the least active since the war began.76 How do these strikes against Russian targets in port and ashore fit within the JÉ school of thought? Firstly, while not a principal feature that is com- monly associated with JÉ naval strategy,77 the foundational literature written by the originators of JÉ does mention attacks on an enemy’s coastal facilities. This primarily includes bombardment of civilian coastal settlements for the purpose of terror but also includes military facilities when the opportunity arises. Aube, for example, writes: The masters of the sea will turn the power of attack and destruction, in the absence of adversaries evading their blows, against all the cities of the littoral, fortified or not, peaceful or warlike, burn them, ruin them or at least ransom them without mercy.78 Equally connecting strikes against military facilities at the coast with this naval strategic school, journalist and JÉ theoretician, Gabriel Charmes, argues,: The bombardment of Alexandria further showed that, if the heavy artillery of a battleship risked being quickly reduced to impotence by the resistance of the forts, the only weapon which could cause them serious damage was small artillery carried on fast ships.79 Secondly, if attention is paid to the connotated message the founding fathers of this naval school of thought tried to convey, a good argument can be made that Ukraine’s targeting of Russian infrastructure at the coastline fits well with a JÉ approach. Ukrainian strikes consist of numerous fast strikes and well- placed pin prick attacks that outmanoeuvre enemy defences and hit unex- pectedly. They are not built on sea control and air superiority because Ukraine did not enjoy dominance of these domains. Thus, the strikes were not ‘decisive’ in a Mahanian sense but rather the modern adoptions of concepts already presented by Admiral Aube during the 1880s. With the extreme mobility that steam gives to all warships, whatever the special weapon with which they are equipped, with the speed and security of informa- tion that the electric telegraph allows, with the concentration of force that is ensured by the railway, on the one hand side, no point on the coast is safe from attack.80 If one were to exchange the concept of steam power with modern forms of power generation, the telegraph with modern ISR and command and control systems and the railway with all forms of transportation available at the beginning of the 21st century, Aube’s article could very well describe a military scenario of the Russo-Ukrainian War. Repeated attacks against – and thus attrition of – the opponent’s naval geostrategic position could seriously degrade the opponent’s ability to operate, sustain and reinforce a fleet over a longer time period without having to destroy the opposing fleet in a symmetrical battle is essentially the quintessence of JÉ thinking. Granted, in Aube’s age, it would have been difficult to imagine how non- conventional means could assemble the necessary amount of firepower to cause the substantial damage to the opponent’s position as shown by the War in Ukraine. But since the development of weapon systems of ever greater ranges, a stakeholder’s position may be vulnerable to repeated attacks by an opponent even if the opponent has not been able to establish sea control and is using asymmetric styles of warfare. To sum up, technological advances have enabled the inferior side to pursue a naval strategy that contributed to driving down the opponent’s fleet’s capabilities without actually seeking a symmetrical engagement with his fleet. This, of course, is completely in line with JÉ thinking – a so-called ‘material school’ of naval strategic thought.81 Thus, in contrast to the deliberate targeting of merchantmen, in the case of attacks against Russian maritime infrastructure the Ukrainian approach can be interpreted as continuing and complementing JÉ thinking. The way ahead: Old school or young school? Ukraine’s asymmetric approach to naval warfare and the adoption of ideas associated with JÉ have secured Ukrainian successes in the maritime domain few experts could have predicted at the beginning of the hostilities.82 It is not exaggerated to claim that the significance of these events is historical. Generally speaking, many scholars and historical studies have not been particularly positive in their verdicts about JÉ as a viable strategic school of thought. As Arne Røksund elaborates, even when Théophile Aube was Minister of Marine (1886–1887), he could not overcome the French admiralty’s resistance to giving up entirely on battlefleets. The same holds true for the second generation of JÉ proponents during the latter 1890s.83 By the time De Lanessan was appointed Minister of Marine in 1899, ideas about great quan- tities of fast but mostly smaller vessels gave way for naval concepts based on comparatively fewer warships of high quality as ‘the French Navy should concentrate on what he regarded as core elements of a first-rank navy’.84 Subsequently, as Røksund, recapitulates, ‘The French Navy did not fight any war following the theory of the Jeune école.’85 Ian Speller comes to a similar conclusion as he underlines that  Even in France there was never a consensus in favour of their [Jeune École’s – author’s note] policies, and French naval policy remained divided (. . .) Ultimately, the Jeune École failed in their attempt to bring radical change to French naval policy.86 Similar to the fate of the French original, the Soviet Molodaya Shkola was replaced rather quickly by grand visions of ‘Stalin’s Big Ocean-going Fleet’ deemed more adequate for Soviet great power status.87 Of what relevance could JÉ ever be when – referring to a leading British naval historian – there has never been a historical example when the approach proposed by this strategic school of thought has ever worked in practice.88 Such criticism was very much in line with the writings of another prominent naval practitioner and theoretician: Admiral Gorshkov, Chief of the Soviet Navy. According to Gorshkov, the naval strategy pursued by the German naval leadership during WW2 had failed because it left the U-boats alone in their fight against the Allied navies without support by other subbranches of the navy. Without the danger of German naval and naval air forces attacking their surface vessels, Allied navies could focus on anti-submarine warfare and ‘the priority devel- opment of only one warfare branch, the subsurface forces, ultimately had to lead to a drastic limitation of the German fleet’s spectrum of tasks when fighting against the enemy’s fleets’, was his argument.89 As a consequence, Gorshkov strongly argues in favour of a balanced fleet which could potentially even defeat a numerically superior but unevenly developed opponent.90 In contrast, the war in the Black Sea has demonstrated that a JÉ approach can actually succeed in neutralising a superior, opposing naval force, at least in a narrow sea.91 Given recent events, the critical perception of JÉ should be carefully re-evaluated. Apart from the historical point of debate that the German military leadership had to fight WW2 with a different fleet than the ‘balanced fleet’ of the Z-Plan that it had originally envisioned but that had not been realised in time, there is also a conceptual issue worth debating from a strategic studies perspective. As various experts and, in fact, the German naval leadership,92 have repeatedly touched upon, the German Navy was doomed to lose the war at sea due to the greater strategic conditions (e.g., fleet sizes, war-making potential including shipbuilding capacity etc.) under which it had to fight WW2.93 If there was no winning condition in a conventional naval war, however, and if, consequently, the sense in carrying out the conflict at sea was not to ‘rule the waves’ but to cause the maximum amount of damage and bind a large Allied force in a way as resource-efficient as possible it has to be critically examined whether a JÉ may have actually been the smartest approach the German Navy could have chosen.94 As elaborated below, similar strategic calculations should be taken into consid- eration when debating the case of Ukraine and the War in the Black Sea. Commerce raiding, another feature of the JÉ approach, has equally been dismissed as futile. As far as targeting of individual merchant ships is con- cerned, the blue-water prophet himself, Alfred T. Mahan viewed this style of warfare as ‘the weakest form of naval warfare’95 and criticises ‘A strong man cannot be made to quit his work by sticking pins in him’.96 A hundred twenty years after Mahan, this assessment also may have lost some of its persuasive power. At the beginning of the 21st century, global sea-based commerce has become very sensitive to changes in the security environment and much more risk averse. Furthermore, the differentiation between flag states, ship owners, cargo owners, crews and charterers has greatly reduced ‘national interest’ within maritime commerce. As a consequence, the outbreak of hostilities in the northwestern Black Sea at the beginning of the Black Sea has – not discounting other factors, such as the closing of ports and Ukrainian authorities prohibiting merchant ships from leaving ports – led to a drastic collapse of merchant shipping to and from Ukraine.97 Similarly, the drastic effects of the 2023 attack against the port of Novorossiysk and the Sig on the maritime commercial sector have already been mentioned. Against this background, it seems extremely likely that if Ukraine struck or sank even a small number of merchantmen destined to call in ports such as Novorossiysk, Taganrog, Taman or Tuapse this would have devastating effects for Russian sea-based transportation in the entire Azovo-Black Sea basin. However, as already noted, as far as commerce warfare is concerned, the limiting factor was less of operational and more or of legal and political nature. While some of the aspects of warfighting associated with JÉ were already considered immoral and contrary to international law during the 19th century, the weight of politico-legal circumstances and the necessity to fight a ‘just war’ are even more significant during the 21st century. This is particu- larly true for Ukraine which depends on the support of the Global West – a value-driven community. In summary, an approach to warfare closely associated with JÉ has awarded Ukraine great successes for more than two years of war in the Black Sea. But as Ukraine has to fight the war at sea solely based on a sea denial approach, the country is also faced with severe limitations. Any opera- tion that requires sea control as a precondition is effectively beyond Ukrainian means if not in immediate proximity of the Ukrainian coastline such as the reported landings of Ukrainian soldiers on drilling platforms.98 Keeping all these more abstract considerations in mind, the debates on (applied) naval strategy that are currently ongoing in Ukraine become much more comprehensible. Following – from Kyiv’s point of view – a successful campaign at sea, in which the reinforced BSF was pushed out of the western Black Sea and suffered considerable losses, a debate is taking place about the future devel- opment of Ukrainian Navy and Ukraine’s approach to warfighting in the maritime dimension. On the one hand, there are the proponents of building a symmetrical naval force. The ‘Doctrine of the Naval Forces of Ukraine’ that was released in 2021 was an ambitious strategic document. As far as the ‘expansion of the fleet composition through the construction and modernisa- tion of the existing fleet composition’ was concerned, the doctrine detailed ‘new generation missile boats, landing ships of various classes, patrol ships and boats for the protection of the territorial waters and the EEZ, uncrewed underwater vehicles, new types of supply vessels of various types’ and ‘the construction of new mine warfare vessels and small submarines’.99 Most breathtaking, the ‘Doctrine of the Naval Forces of Ukraine’ defined capabil- ities for ‘sea control on the open ocean’ as the number one priority for the development of the Ukrainian Navy in the period following 2030.100 It is also in this context that Ukraine’s interest in procuring frigates through the UK capability development initiative and developing the design of the Volodymyr Velykyi-class corvettes have to be interpreted.101 Taking into consideration the point from where the Ukrainian Navy had to restart in 2014, these acquisition goals were bold to say the least. More than two years into the war, visions about the future of the Ukrainian Navy have lost nothing of their grandness. According to this school of thought, among other things, the air defence capability of the Ukrainian Navy is to be strengthened, long-range strike capabilities are to be acquired, surface comba- tants of different classes are to be put into service and amphibious forces are to be set up in the form of additional naval infantry brigades with landing vehicles.102 This expansion of capabilities is intended to gradually create the conditions for achieving sea control. Having established sea control, Ukraine would be in a position to conduct amphibious operations on its own and even think about establishing a naval blockade of the Russian Black Sea coast. The construction of Milgem project corvettes for the Ukrainian Navy at the RMK Marine Shipyard in Istanbul103 and capabilities gained through the British-Norwegian Maritime Capability Coalition104 are important steps in this direction. On the other hand, another faction opposes the above-mentioned views. Proponents of this second philosophy of warfare emphasise that Ukraine has been able to wage the war at sea so successfully because it has used an asymmetrical approach. According to their view, it is important to maintain this approach and Ukraine should under no circumstances aim to fight a symmetrical naval war with the Russian fleet. The Ukrainian fleet design should therefore be based on a so-called mosquito fleet – a fleet consisting of small naval assets applying asymmetrical doctrine.105 This argument is not new. Already Ukraine’s 2018 ‘Strategy of the Naval Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine 2035’ elaborates, Recovery of the surface forces during the first two stages of the Strategy will be executed due to the boats of the ‘mosquito fleet’. This solution is the most realistic in terms of cost-effectiveness ratio. Due to its speed, manoeuvrability and armament, such boats are capable of performing practically the whole spectrum of tasks that are inherent to classical surface ships, but they have smaller sea worthiness and operational range from the coast.106 Although Ukrainian strategic documents repeatedly referred to the term ‘mosquito fleet’, the official Ukrainian naval discourse did not explicitly mention JÉ terminol- ogy. This detail stands in contrast to the above-mentioned remarks about the Molodaya Shkola by Ukrainian civilian commentators. It is also, on first sight, surprising given the actual approach to warfare in the Black Sea region that Ukraine – although not primarily the Ukrainian Navy as mentioned further below – has chosen which has paralleled what the JÉ espoused. However, as Admiral (ret.) Ihor Kabanenko, former deputy minister of defence of Ukraine, points out, ‘this term [Molodaya Shkola – author’s note] is not widely used in Ukraine – apparently, because our experts mostly look to the UK and the US and therefore appeal to the old school of sea power and sea mastery [Soviet/Russian/Ukrainian terminological equivalent of the English term “command of the sea”107 – author’s note], missing out on important experience of waging war in the continental sea’.108 The relative silence on JÉ within the official Ukrainian naval discourse is even less astonishing if the development since 2020, approximately, is taken into consideration. As Kabanenko argues, at some point around the turn of the third decade of the 21st century, Ukrainian naval strategy changed course and while abandoning ideas associated with a mosquito fleet, the ‘later document [the 2021 Doctrine – author’s note] instead calls for ambitious symmetric decisions and actions’ in turn stretching budgetary resources and making very costly, long-term investments.109 What had happened? In June 2020, Oleksiy Neizhpapa was appointed Commander of the Ukrainian Navy.110 Neizhpapa – an ‘Old School’ commander – favoured conventional naval forces.111 Talking at the launch of the UK/Norway/Ukraine Maritime Capability Coalition at Admiralty House in London in December 2023, Neizhpapa clung to his visions of a long-term plan for a capable conventional fleet until 2035 and clearly expressed that a powerful and capable navy is not only a tool to deter Russian aggression from the sea, but also a guarantee of the prosperity of our country and security in the region.112 It is thus not a surprise that the 2021 strategic document of the Ukrainian Navy took a sharp turn. Furthermore, as various sources point out, Ukraine’s most successful maritime assets, naval drones, have been predominantly although not exclusively operated by the civilian (SBU) and military (HUR) intelligence services rather than the navy.113 Many Ukrainians who adhere to the second faction view these grand fleet ambitions critically. As Captain (ret.) Andrii Ryzhenko argues, the cost of building up a conventional fleet as envisioned by the Ukrainian naval leadership would be extremely expensive. Such resources could be spent much wiser, especially, if the fact that Ukraine’s current naval strategy that enables effective sea denial operations is taken into consideration.114 Essentially, the ideas supported by Kabanenko, Ryzhenko and other proponents of this school of thought can be attributed to the long-standing tradition of JÉ thinking. In contrast, whereas throughout this article this author has argued that means and ways which Ukrainian security organs applied to erode its Russian opponent closely resembled a JÉ style of naval warfare, this evaluation is descriptive not prescriptive. Unlike civilian experts, such as Vel’mozh͡ ko, who have equally compared Ukraine’s approach to the War in the Black Sea with Young School thinking, there is no evidence supporting that Ukraine’s post-2020 naval leadership was deliber- ately pursuing a JÉ-informed strategy. On the contrary, available evidence points in the direction that for the decision-makers at the time of the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine the JÈ was not a source of direct inspiration. In fact, Ukraine’s naval leaders were informed by Old School thinking and capabilities for conventional, symmetric naval warfare were favoured. Revival of Jeune École? The discussion of attacks on merchant shipping has shown that if Ukraine really wanted to interfere with Russian merchant shipping or potentially even enforce a blockade itself, it would have to acquire a fleet consisting of at least some surface combatants. It is highly questionable that under the conditions of (this) war such an aim can be accomplished. Already before the full-scale invasion in February 2022, various experts criticised Ukraine’s apparent shift in naval strategy and the country’s ambitious plans to create a balanced fleet capable of, among others, conducting offensive maritime operations which they deemed unrealistic and a waste of resources arguing instead for the establishment of an effective mosquito fleet.115 Given that Ukraine is fighting an existential struggle in a mostly land- dominated theatre of war, Ukraine should carefully assess how many resources it would want to invest in capabilities in the maritime domain. Ultimately, Russia retains significant long-range strike capabilities as demon- strated by the strike campaign which the Russian military has been waging against Ukraine’s energy infrastructure since autumn 2022.116 So far, one of the great advantages Ukraine’s Navy has enjoyed over the course of this war has been that its mosquito fleet was difficult to track and neutralise by the enemy. Introducing large, tangible objects – naval vessels – into the arsenal of the Ukrainian military would deprive Ukraine of this advantage and make the life for the Russian targeting process a lot easier. Furthermore, given Ukraine’s geographic and geopolitical situation it has to be critically questioned whether Anglo-Saxon ‘Old School’ blue-water theories are the best fit for the Ukrainian Navy. As Gorshkov argues, it is ‘wrong to attempt to build a fleet according to the model and example of the strongest naval power’ as ‘every country has its specific needs for naval forces.’117 Thus, Ryzhenko is correct to emphasise time and again the necessity to pursue an asymmetric strategy at least as far as the enclosed theatre of the Azov-Black Sea-region is concerned. In his words,  Ultimately, small, fast, maneuverable and well-armed boats as well as unmanned aerial and surface vehicles comprising a well-equipped ‘mosquito fleet’ could quickly and efficiently strengthen the Ukrainian Navy and improve the chances to execute successful operations within confined and contested areas where, for now, Russia enjoys dominance in the air and sea. 118 Considering the fate of the JÉ and the Soviet Molodaya Shkola, the – one could almost say libidinal – desire of naval leaders to aim beyond the stage of JÉ weapons and doctrine and acquire a conventional fleet (in the old days a battlefleet) has been prevalent. More than 130 years after Aube, Grivel and the other founding fathers of JÉ, the temptation remains strong. Ironically, even in pursuing an actual war-winning JÉ-based strategy Ukrainian decision- makers are still tempted to revert to warfare capabilities associated with classical naval warfare. The Ukrainian naval leadership should consider care- fully before continuing to steer down this waterway. NOTES 1 Ian Speller, Understanding Naval Warfare, 2nd ed. (London and New York, NY: Routledge, 2019), 43ff. 2 See, for example, these authors’ most prominent works: Alfred Thayer Mahan, The Influence of Sea Power upon History 1660–1783 (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1890); Philip Howard Colomb, Naval Warfare: Its Ruling Principles and Practice Historically Treated (London: W. H. Allen & Co., Ltd., 1891); Julian Corbett, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1911). Corbett has indeed also addressed several elements of naval warfare which are essential to the JÉ school of thought. For example, Corbett argues ‘The vital, most difficult, and most absorbing problem has become not how to increase the power of a battle-fleet for attack, which is a comparatively simple matter, but how to defend it. As the offensive power of the flotilla developed, the problem pressed with an almost bewildering intensity. With every increase in the speed and sea-keeping power of torpedo craft, the problem of the screen grew more exacting’ (Corbett, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy, 122). Due to limitations in aim and scope, this article limits itself to literature and theoreticians associated with the JÉ. Interpreting the War in the Black Sea from a Corbettian perspective may be an area for further research. 3 James R. Holmes and Toshi Yoshihara, Chinese Naval Strategy in the 21st Century: The Turn to Mahan (London and New York, NY: Routledge, 2008); David Scott, ‘India’s Drive For A “Blue Water” Navy’, Journal of Military and Strategic Studies, Winter 2007–08, 10/2 (2008); and Alessio Patalano, Post-War Japan As a Sea Power: Imperial Legacy, Wartime Experience and the Making of a Navy (London: Bloomsburry, 2016). 4 Seth Cropsey, ‘Naval Considerations in the Russo-Ukrainian War’, Naval War College Review, 75/4 (2022), Article 4; and Brent Sadler, ‘Applying Lessons of the Naval War in Ukraine for a Potential War with China’, The Heritage Foundation, 5 January 2023, https://www.heritage.org/asia/report/applying-lessons-the-naval-war-ukraine-potential-war-china. 5 Borys Kormych and Tetyana Malyarenko, ‘From Gray Zone to Conventional Warfare: the Russia-Ukraine Conflict in the Black Sea’, Small Wars & Insurgencies, 34/7 (2023), 1235–70; Silviu Nate et. alii, ‘Impact of the Russo-Ukrainian War on Black Sea Trade: Geoeconomic Challenges’, Economics & Sociology, 17/1 (2024), 256–79; and Nick Childs, ‘The Black Sea in the Shadow of War’, Survival, 65/3 (2023), 25–36. 6 Md. Tanvir Habib and Shah Md Shamrir Al Af, ‘Maritime asymmetric warfare strategy for smaller states: lessons from Ukraine’, Small Wars & Insurgencies 36/1 (2025), 29–58. 7 Michael Shurkin, ‘Plus Ça Change: A French Approach to Naval Warfare in the 21st Century’, War on the Rocks, 13 Oct. 2023, https://warontherocks.com/2023/10/plus-ca-change-a-french-approach-to-naval-warfare-in-the-21st-century/. 8 Andrew F. Krepinevich and Barry Watts, ‘Meeting the Anti-Access and Area-Denial Challenge’, Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments, 20 May 2003, https://csbaonline.org/research/publications/a2ad-anti-access-area-denial; Stephan Frühling and Guillaume Lasconjarias, ‘NATO, A2/AD and the Kaliningrad Challenge’, Survival, 58/2 (2016), 95–116; and Douglas Barrie, ‘Anti-Access/Area Denial: Bursting the “no-go” bubble?’, IISS Military Balance Blog, 29 Mar. 2019, https://www.iiss.org/blogs/military-balance/2019/04/anti-access-area-denial-russia-and-crimea. 9 Bryan Ranft and Geoffrey Till, The Sea in Soviet Strategy, 2nd ed. (Basingstoke: MacMillan Press, 1989), 94,95; Mikhail Monakov and Jürgen Rohwer, Stalin’s Ocean-Going Fleet: Soviet Naval Strategy and Shipbuilding Programs, 1935–53 (Abingdon: Frank Cass, 2001), 20ff. and Geoffrey Till, Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century, 4th ed. (London and New York, NY: Routledge 2018), 94,95. 10 The Land-Based Variant of the SS-N-3 Shaddock. 11 R-360 Neptune Anti-Ship Missiles are Believed to have Critically Damaged the Russian Cruiser Moskva in April 2022. Ellen Uchimiya and Eleanor Watson, The Neptune: The Missiles that Struck Russia’s flagship, the Moskva, CBS News, 16 Apr. 2022, https://www.cbsnews.com/news/moskva-ship-sinking-russian-flagship-neptune-missiles/. 12 Till, Seapower, 93; Beatrice Heuser, The Evolution of Strategy: Thinking War from Antiquity to the Present (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2010), 225,226. 13 Arne Røksund, The Jeune École: The Strategy of the Weak (Brill, 2007), iX; Martin Motte, Une Éducation Géostratégique. La Pensée Navale Française de la Jeune École à 1914 (Paris:: Economica, 2004), 99. 14 Richild Grivel, De la guerre maritime avant et depuis les nouvelles Inventions (Paris: Arthus Bertrand and J. Dumaine 1869), 7. 15 Ibid., 259. 16 Till, Seapower, 91. 17 Røksund, The Jeune École, 6. 18 Hyacinthe Laurent Théophile Aube, ‘La guerre maritime et les ports militaires de la France’, 320, Revue des Deux Mondes, March 1882, 314–46. 19 Till, Seapower, 91. 20 Røksund, The Jeune École, xii. 21 Ibid., 29–31, 121. 22 Defense Express, ‘First Target of Ukraine’s Neptune Missile’, 12 Jan. 2024, https://en.defence-ua.com/events/first_target_of_ukraines_neptune_missile_how_the_moskva_flagship_killer_scored_its_first_hit_and_prevented_amphibious_assault-9162.html. 23 Hannah Ritchie, ‘Ukrainian Drone Destroys Russian Patrol Ships off Snake Island, says Defense Ministry’, CNN, 2 May 2022, https://edition.cnn.com/europe/live-news/russia-ukraine-war-news-05-02-22#h_a73ac98f2400af01f729e23a7e01ae88; and AFP, ‘Ukraine Says Sank Russian Landing Craft at Snake Island’, The Moscow Times, 11 May 2022, https://www.themoscowtimes.com/2022/05/07/ukraine-says-sank-russian-landing-craft-at-snake-island-a77614. 24 Tass, ‘Kiev loses 30 drones in attempt to seize Snake Island – Russian Defense Ministry’, 10 May 2022, https://tass.com/defense/1449051?utm_source=google.com=organic=google.com=google. com/amp/amp/amp. 25 Deutsche Welle, ‘Russia Pulls Back Forces from Snake Island – as it Happened’, 30 June 2022, <https://www.dw.com/en/ukraine-russia-pulls-back-forces-from-snake-island-as-it-happened/a−62,309,716>. 26 Robert Greenall, ‘Ukraine “hits Russian Missile boat Ivanovets in Black Sea”, BBC, 1 Feb. 2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-68165523; Tom Balmforth and Yuliia Dysa, ‘Ukraine attacks Russian Warships in Black Sea, Destroys Air defences in Crimea, Kyiv says’, Reuters, 14 Sept. 2023, https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/ukraine-destroys-russian-air-defence-system-near-crimeas-yevpatoriya-source-2023-09-14/; and Sergeĭ Koval’, ‘U beregov kryma potoplen rossiĭskiĭ raketnyĭ kater. Chto o nem izvestno?’, Krym Realii, 01 Feb. 2024, https://ru.krymr.com/a/krym-potoplen-ros-raketnyy-kater/32801464.html. 27 Habib and Md Al Af, ‘Maritime asymmetric warfare strategy for smaller states’, p. 34. 28 Andrew E. Kramer, ‘In a Tough Year on Land, Drones Give Ukraine Some Success at Sea’, 20 Dec. 2023, New York Times, https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/20/world/europe/ukraine-drones-sea.html. 29 Igor Delanoë, ‘Russia’s Black Sea Fleet in the “Special Military Operation” in Ukraine’, 7 Feb. 2024, https://www.fpri.org/article/2024/02/russias-black-sea-fleet-in-the-special-military-operation-in-ukraine/. 30 UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Latest Defence Intelligence update on the situation in Ukraine − 16 Aug. 2022’, X, 16 Aug. 2022, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1559411321581572098. 31 Kramer, ‘In a Tough Year on Land’; Roman Romaniuk, Sam Harvey and Olya Loza, ‘Sea drones, Elon Musk, and high-precision missiles: How Ukraine dominates in the Black Sea’, Ukrainska Pravda, 1 Jan. 2024, https://www.pravda.com.ua/eng/articles/2024/01/1/7435326/. 32 Joshua Cheetham, ‘Sea drones: What are they and how much do they cost?’ BBC, 13 Sept. 2023, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe−66,373,052. 33 Røksund, The Jeune École, 139. 34 Oleksandr Vel’moz͡hko, ‘Rosiĭs’kyĭ flot znovu vidstupai͡e u bazi (VIDEO)’, Pivdennyĭ Kur’i͡er, 10 Dec. 2022,https://uc.od.ua/news/navy/1248235. 35 Greenall, ‘Ukraine ‘hits Russian missile boat Ivanovets in Black Sea’; and Milana Golovan, ‘MAGURA V5 drones attack Tsezar Kunikov ship: Russian occupiers release first-person video footage’, LIGABusinessInform, 6 Mar. 2024, https://news.liga.net/en/politics/video/kak-drony-magura-v5-atakovali-tsezarya-kunikova-okkupanty-pokazali-video-ot-pervogo-litsa. 36 Un ancien officier de marine, ‘Torpilleurs et Torpilles’, 47, La Nouvelle revue, 7/32 (January-February 1885), 42–71. 37 Raul Pedrozo, ‘Maritime Exclusion Zones in Armed Conflicts’, International Law Studies 99/526 (2022), https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3018&context=ils, 531. 38 Interfaks, ‘Tanker Povrezhden Na Podkhode K Kerchenskomu Prolivu, Predpolozhitel’No,Morskim Dronom’, 5 Aug. 2023, https://www.interfax.ru/russia/914933; and Romaniuk, Harvey and Loza, ‘Sea drones, Elon Musk, and high-precision missiles’. 39 Sofiia Syngaivska, ‘Russia Uses Civilian Vessels for Military Purposes, Including Recently Attacked Sig Merchant Tanker’, 10 Aug. 2023, https://en.defence-ua.com/news/russia_uses_civilian_vessels_for_military_purposes_including_recently_attacked_sig_merchant_tanker-7590.html; and Daria Shulzhenko, ‘Ukraine’s security chief: Attacks on Russian ships, Crimean bridge ‘logical and legal’, The Kyiv Independent, 5 Aug. 2023, https://kyivindependent.com/sbu-head-says-attacks-on-russian-ships-crimean-bridge-are-logical-and-legal/. 40 Udo Fink and Ines Gillich, Humanitäres Völkerrecht (Baden-Baden: Nomos, 2023), 212; Interview with a legal advisor for Law of Naval Operations on 11 June 2024. 41 Ministerstvo oborony Ukraïny, ‘Zai͡ava Ministerstva oborony Ukraïny’, Facebook, 20 July 2023, https://www.facebook.com/MinistryofDefence.UA/posts/pfbid02fGmqenfANV5TABt16PgMpJRT7k5sbkeUhkEAsbkeUhkEAVZuvxxS2dgPkH2qAR7yl. 42 Sluz͡hba bezpeky Ukraïny, ‘golova SBU Vasil’ Mali͡uk prokomentuvav neshchodavni ataky nadvodnymy dronamy na korabli rf,‘ 5 Aug 2023, https://t.me/SBUkr/9185; Gabriel Gavin, ‘Ukraine declares war on Russia’s Black Sea shipping’, Politico, 8 Aug. 2023, https://www.politico.eu/article/ukraine-declares-war-on-russia-black-sea-shipping/. 43 Lloyd’s List, ‘Russia warns that Ships Heading to Ukraine are now a Military Target’, 20 July 2023, https://www.lloydslist.com/LL1145965/Russia-warns-that-ships-heading-to-Ukraine-are-now-a-military-target. 44 Shaun Walker, ‘Odesa suffers “Hellish Night” as Russia Attacks Ukraine Grain Facilities’, The Guardian, 19 July 2023, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/jul/19/odesa-suffers-hellish-night-as-russia-attacks-ukraines-grain-facilities; UK Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office and James Cleverly, ‘New intelligence shows Russia’s targeting of a cargo ship’, 11 Sept. 2023, https://www.gov.uk/government/news/new-intelligence-shows-russias-targeting-of-a-cargo-ship. 45 Gavin, ‘Ukraine declares war on Russia’s Black Sea shipping’. 46 Michelle Wiese Bockmann, ‘Western Tankers Abandon Black Sea crude markets after Ukraine drone attacks’, Lloyd’s List, 07 Aug. 2023, https://www.lloydslist.com/LL1146178/Western-tankers-abandon-Black-Sea-crude-markets-after-Ukraine-drone-attacks. 47 Interview with an authoritative Ukrainian source in May 2024. 48 Louise Doswald-Beck (ed.), San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995) [SRM], paragraphs [59]-[61]; Andreas von Arnauld, Völkerrecht (Heidelberg: C.F. Müller, 2019), 577. 49 International Committee of the Red Cross, ‘Procès-verbal relating to the Rules of Submarine Warfare set forth in Part IV of the Treaty of London of 22 April 1930. London, 6 November 1936’, https://ihl-databases.icrc.org/assets/treaties/330-IHL-45-EN.pdf. 50 SRM paragraphs [93]-[104]; Robert Kolb and Richard Hyde, Introduction to the International Law of Armed Conflicts (Oxford and Portland, OR: Hart Publishing, 2008), 252. 51 Kolb and Hyde, Introduction to the International Law of Armed Conflicts, 252; James Kraska and Raul Pedrozo, International Maritime Security Law (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 888; Arnauld, Völkerrecht, 578. 52 Arnauld, Völkerrecht, 578. Offensive mine warfare is not considered in this article (Conversation with Dr Marc De Vore, University of St. Andrews, at the Finnish National Defence University in Helsinki on 13 February 2025). 53 SRM, paragraph [60]. For a discussion, see, Kraska and Pedrozo, International Maritime Security Law, 868. 54 UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office, ‘G7 Foreign Ministers’ Meeting communiqué (Capri, 19 April, 2024) – steadfast support to Ukraine’, 19 Apr. 2024, https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/g7-foreign-ministers-meeting-communiques-april-2024/g7-foreign-ministers-meeting-communique-capri-19-april-2024-steadfast-support-to-ukraine. 55 Bitsat Yohannes-Kassahun, ‘One Year Later: The impact of the Russian conflict with Ukraine on Africa’, United Nations Africa Renewal, 13 Feb. 2023, https://www.un.org/africarenewal/magazine/february-2023/one-year-later-impact-russian-conflict-ukraine-africa. 56 Timothy Heck, speech given at the Kiel International Seapower Symposium 2024 on 28 June 2024. 57 Røksund, The Jeune École, 27. 58 Tim Lister, ‘A Russian naval base was targeted by drones. Now Ukrainian grain exports are at risk’, CNN, 31 Oct. 2022, https://edition.cnn.com/2022/10/31/europe/sevastopol-drone-russia-ukraine-grain-intl-cmd/index.html. 59 Shephard News, ‘UK says Saky explosions leave Russian Navy Black Sea aviation fleet ‘significantly degraded’, 12 Aug. 2022, https://www.shephardmedia.com/news/defence-notes/uk-says-explosions-leave-russian-navy-black-sea-aircraft-significantly-degraded/; Cameron Manley, ‘Ukraine says it has taken out another 2 warships in Russia’s Black Sea fleet’, Business Insider, 24 Mar. 2024, https://www.businessinsider.com/ukraine-taken-out-another-2-ships-russias-black-sea-fleet-2024–3; and Nate Ostiller and The Kyiv Independent news desk, ‘General Staff confirms Russian missile ship Tsiklon struck in occupied Crimea’, The Kyiv Independent, 21 May 2024, https://kyivindependent.com/general-staff-confirms-russian-missile-ship-zyklon-struck-off-occupied-crimea. 60 HI Sutton, ‘Ukraine’s Maritime Drone Strikes Again: Reports Indicate Attack On Novorossiysk’, Naval News, 18 Nov. 2022, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2022/11/ukraine-maritime-drone-strikes-again-reports-indicate-attack-on-novorossiysk/. 61 Romaniuk, Harvey and Loza, ‘Sea drones, Elon Musk, and high-precision missiles’. 62 Lloyd’s List, ‘Ukraine attacks Russian port of Novorossiysk’, 4 Aug. 2023, https://lloydslist.com/LL1146152/Ukraine-attacks-Russian-port-of-Novorossiysk; UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Latest Defence Intelligence update on the situation in Ukraine − 05 August 2023’, X, 5 Aug. 2023, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1687697529918373889?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1687697529918373889%7Ctwgr%5E751b5a68b67ea91d2ca704e56fc3a0c7c88c3053%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.forces.net%2Frussia%2Frussian-war-ship-damaged-significant-blow-russias-black-sea-fleet-mod-says. 63 Romaniuk, Harvey and Loza, ‘Sea drones, Elon Musk, and high-precision missiles’. 64 It can certainly be argued that states do not always comply with international humanitarian law. The Second World War provides numerous examples including in the field of commerce raiding. However, the Manichaean distinction between Russia, the aggressor violating public international law, and Ukraine, which is legitimately defending itself, is essential to Kyiv’s political strategy. Against this background, consideration of international law is fundamental for Ukraine’s naval warfare and this study. 65 Romaniuk, Harvey and Loza, ‘Sea drones, Elon Musk, and High-Precision Missiles’. 66 Alona Sonko, ‘Aerial Shots Detail Drone Damage at Novorossiysk Port’, The New Voice of Ukraine, 19 May 2024, https://english.nv.ua/nation/satellite-images-show-aftermath-of-may-17-attack-on-novorossiysk-seaport−50,419,745html. 67 Martin Fornusek, ‘Military intelligence: Oil Pipeline Blown up in Russia’s Rostov Oblast’, The Kyiv Independent, 06 Apr. 2024, https://kyivindependent.com/military-intelligence-oil-pipeline-in-russias-rostov-oblast-on-fire/. 68 Jack Detsch, ‘Russia’s Home Port in Occupied Crimea Is Under Fire’, Foreign Policy, 13 Sept. 2023, https://foreignpolicy.com/2023/09/13/crimea-ukraine-russia-war-attack-black-sea-fleet/. 69 Interfaks, ‘Chislo postradavshikh pri atake na stab Chernomorskogo flota vyroslo do shesti’, 31 July 2022, https://www.interfax.ru/russia/854608; Maria Kostenko, Tim Lister and Sophie Tanno, ‘Ukraine says strike on Russia’s Black Sea Fleet HQ left Dozens Dead and Wounded ‘Including Senior Leadership’, CNN, 23 September 2023, https://edition.cnn.com/2023/09/23/europe/special-ops-black-sea-strike-dozens-dead-intl-hnk/index.html. 70 The Maritime Executive, ‘Ukraine Strikes Another Naval Shipyard in Russian-Occupied Crimea’, 05 Nov. 2024, https://maritime-executive.com/article/ukraine-strikes-another-naval-shipyard-in-russian-occupied-crimea; Defense Express, ‘Destruction of Russian Novocherkassk Ship has Blocked One of Logistic Channels to Crimea (Satellite Photo)’, 12 Apr. 2024, https://en.defence-ua.com/analysis/destruction_of_russian_novocherkassk_ship_has_blocked_one_of_logistic_channels_to_crimea_satellite_photo−10,152html. 71 UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Update on Ukraine’, X, 15 Sept. 2023, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1702561936179630440?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1702561936179630440%7Ctwgr%5E64b3d174bc910eae91016ef92e9b0b07e88b9194%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.twz.com%2Frussian-submarine-shows-massive-damage-after-ukrainian-strike; Thomas Newdick, ‘Russian Submarine Shows Massive Damage After Ukrainian Strike’, The Warzone, 18 Sept. 2024, https://www.twz.com/russian-submarine-shows-massive-damage-after-ukrainian-strike. 72 Craig Hooper, ‘Why Ukraine’s Strike On Sevastopol Naval Infrastructure Is A Big Deal’, Forbes, 14 Sept. 2024, https://www.forbes.com/sites/craighooper/2023/09/13/why-ukraines-strike-on-sebastopol-naval-infrastructure-is-a-big-deal/; Mike Eckel, ‘Russia’s Navy Has A Dry Dock Problem. Again’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 16 Sept. 2023, https://www.rferl.org/a/russia-navy-dry-dock-problem-ukraine-/32595547.html. 73 UK Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office and Nicholas Aucott, ‘Russia is Diminished in The eyes of The International Community through its Own Actions: UK Statement to the OSCE’, 06 Dec. 2023, https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/russia-is-diminished-in-the-eyes-of-the-international-community-through-its-own-actions-uk-statement-to-the-osce; Sinéad Baker, ‘Putin doesn’t really want a war with NATO because “Russia will lose and lose quickly”, UK military chief says’, Business Insider, 28 Feb. 2024, https://www.businessinsider.com/putin-doesnt-want-nato-war-russia-would-lose-quickly-uk-2024–2?r=US&IR=T. 74 AP News, ‘Ukrainian navy says a Third of Russian warships in the Black Sea have been Destroyed or Disabled’, 26 Mar. 2024, https://apnews. 75 Mia Jankowicz, ‘Russia’s Black Sea Fleet is “Functionally Inactive” After being Pummeled Hard by Ukraine, UK says’, Business Insider, 25 Mar. 2024, https://www.businessinsider.com/russia-black-sea-fleet-functionally-inactive-after-ukraine-strikes-uk-2024–3.: 76 UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Latest Defence Intelligence update on the situation in Ukraine − 18 April 2024’, X, 18 Apr. 2024, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1780878487068242335/photo/3. 77 Speller takes only brief note of Attacks Against Enemy Ports whereas Geoffrey Till doesn’t mention them at all. The Commerce Raiding Component of Jeune ÉCole has been awarded much greater attention. Speller, Understanding Naval Warfare, 57–60; Till, Seapower, 91–93. 78 Aube, ‘La guerre maritime’, 331. 79 Gabriel Charmes, La Réforme de la Marine (Paris: Calmann Lévy, 1886), 56–57. 80 Aube, ‘La guerre maritime’, 332. 81 Shurkin, ‘Plus Ça Change’. For Further Literature on The Subject of the ‘Material School’ see, Kevin McCranie, Mahan, Corbett, and the Foundations of Naval Strategic Thought (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2021), 55ff. 82 Gustav Gressel, ‘Waves of ambition: Russia’s military build-up in Crimea and the Black Sea’, European Council on Foreign Relations, 21.09.2021, https://ecfr.eu/publication/waves-of-ambition-russias-military-build-up-in-crimea-and-the-black-sea/; Tayfun Ozberk, ‘Analysis: Russia To Dominate The Black Sea In Case Of Ukraine Conflict’, Naval News, 30 Jan. 2022, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2022/01/analysis-russia-to-dominate-the-black-sea-in-case-of-ukraine-conflict/; Welt, ‘Militärexperte Gressel: Darum hat die ukrainische Armee kaum eine Chance gegen Russen’, 24 Jan. 2022, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aNzUf3zllJ4. 83 Røksund, The Jeune École, 84, 132. 84 Ibid., 166. 85 Ibid., 228. 86 Speller, Understanding Naval Warfare, 60. 87 Monakov and Rohwer, Stalin’s Ocean-Going Fleet, 62–109, 221–4. 88 Andrew Lambert in December 2018. M.A. Seminar Navies and Seapower offered by the War Studies Department at King’s College London 2018–2019. 89 Sergej G. Gorschkow, Die Seemacht des Staates (Berlin: Militärverlag der Deutschen Demokratischen Republik 1978) [Morskai͡a Moshch‘ gosudarstva. Voenizdat 1976], 172, 355. 90 Ibid., 341, 372. 91 The author is aware of the ongoing debate on the extent to which the technological developments – especially the use of uncrewed systems – which have shaped the War in the Black Sea can be generalised. Jacquelyn Schneider and Julia Macdonald, for example, examine the relation between autonomous/uncrewed systems and revolutions in military affairs and come to the conclusion that ‘these systems may be most revolutionary is in cost mitigation—both political and economic.’ In contrast, Oleksandr Vel’moz͡hko does acknowledge the advantages, such as mass-production and cost-efficiency, inherent to a ‘young school’–inspired navy consisting of high-tech small crafts but also points at serious disadvantages connected with such systems, for example their inability to operate on the open ocean and their high vulnerability. Duncan Redford further elaborates on the limitations concerning the use of unmanned surface vehicles, among others, arguing that ‘environmental conditions in the Baltic and High North are such that they are highly likely to severely restrict the use of’ Ukrainian style one-way attack USVs. Jacquelyn Schneider and Julia Macdonald, ‘Looking back to look forward: Autonomous systems, military revolutions, and the importance of cost’, 162, Journal of Strategic Studies, 47/2 (2024), 162–184; Vel’moz͡hko,‘Rosiĭs’kyĭ flot znovu vidstupai͡e u bazi (VIDEO)’; Duncan Redford, ‘Maritime Lessons from the Ukraine-Russia Conflict: USVs and the Applicability to the Baltic and High North’, #GIDSstatement 11/2024, (14 Oct. 2024), https://gids-hamburg.de/maritime-lessons-from-the-ukraine-russia-conflict-usvs-and-the-applicability-to-the-baltic-and-high-north/. 92 For example, in September 1939, in December 1940 and October 1942. Bernd Stegemann, ‘Vierter Teil: Die erste Phase der Seekriegsführung’, 162, in: Klaus A. Maier, Horst Rohde, Bernd Stegemann and Hans Umbreit (eds.), Das Deutsche Reich und der Zweite Weltkrieg Vol. II (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlagsanstalt 1979), 159–188; Werner Rahn, ‘The Atlantic in the Strategic Perspective of Hitler and his Admirals, 1939–1944’, 160, 164, in: N.A.M. Rodger, J. Ross Dancy, Benjamin Darnell and Evan Wilson (eds.), Strategy and the Sea: Essays in Honour of John B. Hattendorf (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press 2016), 159–168. 93 Michael Salewski, Die deutsche Seekriegsleitung 1935–1945 Vol. I (Frankfurt am Main und München: Bernard & Graefe 1970), 128; Stegemann, ‘Vierter Teil: Die erste Phase der Seekriegsführung’, 162; Rahn, ‘The Atlantic in the Strategic Perspective of Hitler and his Admirals, 1939–1944’, 160, 164. 94 See Adolf Hitler on 31 May 1943: ‘The number of resources that submarine warfare would tie up, even if it were no longer to achieve great success, is so extraordinarily large that I cannot allow the enemy to free up these resources’ Gerhard Wagner (ed.), Lagevorträge des Oberbefehlshabers der Kriegsmarine vor Hitler 1939–1945 (München: J.F. Lehmanns Verlag, 1972), 510. 95 Craig Symonds, ‘Alfred Thayer Mahan’, 33, in: Geoffrey Till (ed.), Maritime Strategy and the Nuclear Age (London and Basingstoke: MacMillan Academic and Professional Ltd, 1990)) [1984], 28–33. 96 Alfred Thayer Mahan, Lessons of the War with Spain and other Articles (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1899), 300. 97 Elisabeth Braw , ‘The Invasion of Ukraine Is Causing Crisis at Sea’, Foreign Policy, 7 March 2022, https://foreignpolicy.com/2022/03/07/ukraine-shipping-supply-war/; Interview with a Representative of an anonymous maritime stakeholder that was heavily affected by the War in Ukraine on 25 October 2023. 98 Paul Adams, ‘Ukraine Claims to Retake Black Sea Drilling Rigs from Russian Control’, BBC, 11 Sept. 2023, https://www.bbc. com/news/66779639. 99 Instytut Viĭs’kovo-Mors’kykh Syl, ‘Doktrina: Viĭs’kovo-Mors’ki Syly Zbroĭnykh syl Ukraïny’, January 2021, 79, https://ivms.mil.gov.ua/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/doktryna_vijskovo-morski-syly-zbrojnyh-syl-ukrayinydiv.pdf. 100 Ibid., 76. 101 Militarnyi, ‘Frigates for Ukrainian Navy: the construction agreement was included into contract with the United Kingdom’, 25 Nov. 2021, https://mil.in.ua/en/news/frigates-for-ukrainian-navy-the-construction-agreement-was-included-into-contract-with-the-united-kingdom/. 102 Vitaly Semenov, ‘Prospects for the Development of the Naval Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine Until 2035’, Forum: ‘State Maritime Strategy. Development and implementation of maritime potential of Ukraine’ at the National Defence University of Ukraine on 23 May 2024. 103 Tayfun Ozberk, ‘Turkish Shipyard Lays Keel Of Ukraine’s 2nd MILGEM Corvette’, Naval News, 18 Aug. 2023, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2023/08/turkish-shipyard-lays-keel-of-ukraine-2nd-milgem-corvette/. 104 UK Ministry of Defence, ‘British minehunting Ships to Bolster Ukrainian Navy as UK and Norway Launch Maritime Support Initiative’, 11 Dec. 2023, https://www.gov.uk/government/news/british-minehunting-ships-to-bolster-ukrainian-navy-as-uk-and-norway-launch-maritime-support-initiative#:~:text=The%20UK%20will%div20lead%20a,ships%20for%20the%20Ukrainian%20Navy. 105 Bern Keating, The Mosquito Fleet (New York, NY: Scholastic Book Services, 1969) [Originally Published 1963]. 106 Viĭs’kovo-Mors’ki Syly Zbroĭnykh syl Ukraïny, ‘Strategy of the Naval Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine 2035’, 11 Jan. 2019, https://navy.mil.gov.ua/en/strategiya-vijskovo-morskyh-syl-zbrojnyh-syl-ukrayiny-2035/. 107 Milan N. Vego, Naval Strategy and Operations in Narrow Seas, 2nd ed. (Abingdon and New York, NY: Cass, 2003), 110. 108 Interview with Admiral (ret.) Ihor Kabanenko on 06 November 2024. 109 Ihor Kabanenko, ‘Ukraine’s New Naval Doctrine: A Revision of the Mosquito Fleet Strategy or Bureaucratic Inconsistency?’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 25 May 2021, https://jamestown.org/program/ukraines-new-naval-doctrine-a-revision-of-the-mosquito-fleet-strategy-or-bureaucratic-inconsistency/. 110 Prezydent Ukraïny, ‘Ukaz Prezydenta Ukraïny No. 217/2020’, 2020, https://www.president.gov.ua/docdivuments/2172020–34,085. 111 Interview with an authoritative Ukrainian source in June 2024. 112 Lee Willett, ‘Ukrainian Navy Chief Details Future Force Requirements’, Naval News, 18 Dec. 2023, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2023/12/ukrainian-navy-chief-details-future-force-requirements/. 113 Sergej Sumlenny, ‘Naval Drones in Russo-Ukrainian War: from the current stand to the future development’, presentation given at the German Command and Staff College on 19 June 2024; Kramer, ‘In a Tough Year on Land’. See also various articles by the newspaper The Kyiv Independent. Militarnyi, ‘The Ukrainian Navy received naval drones equipped with strike FPV drone’, 8 Dec. 2024, https://mil.in.ua/en/news/the-ukrainian-navy-received-naval-drones-equipped-with-strike-fpv-drones/. 114 Andrii Ryzhenko, ‘Ways of Developing the Naval Capabilities of Ukraine to Ensure the Military Security of the State at Sea, Taking into Account the Experience of the Russian-Ukrainian war’, forum: ‘State Maritime Strategy. Development and implementation of maritime potential of Ukraine’, National Defence University of Ukraine on 23 May 2024. 115 Sanders, Deborah ‘Rebuilding the Ukrainian Navy’, Naval War College Review, 70/4 (2017), Article 5, 74; Jason Y. Osuga (2017), ‘Building an Asymmetric Ukrainian Naval Force to Defend the Sea of Azov, Pt. 2’, CIMSEC, 2 Oct. 2017, https://cimsec.org/tag/ukraine/page/2/; Defense Express, ‘Ukraine’s Navy Looking To Acquire 30 New Warships By 2020’, 12 Apr. 2018, https://old.defence-ua.com/index.php/en/news/4367-ukraine-s-navy-looking-to-acquire-30-new-warships-by-2020; Kabanenko, ‘Ukraine’s New Naval Doctrine’. 116 Adam Schreck and Hanna Arhirova, ‘Russia Unleashes Biggest attacks in Ukraine in Months’, The Associated Press News, 11 Oct. 2022, https://apnews.com/article/russia-ukraine-kyiv-government-and-politics-8f625861590b9e0dd336dabc0880ac8c; Michael N. Schmitt, ‘Ukraine Symposium – Further Thoughts On Russia’s Campaign Against Ukraine’s Power Infrastructure’, Lieber Institute West Point, 25 Nov. 2022, https://lieber.westpoint.edu/further-thoughts-russias-campaign-against-ukraines-power-infrastructure/; Angelica Evans et alii., ‘Russian Offensive Campaign Assessment, 12 Apr. 2024’, Institute for the Study of War, https://www.understandingwar.org/backgrounder/russian-offensive-campaign-assessment-april-12-2024. 117 Gorschkow, Die Seemacht des Staates, p. 343. 118 Andrii Ryzhenko, ‘Ukraine Needs to Secure Its Maritime Future: “Mosquito Fleet” Provides a Viable Strategy’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 13 Jun. 2023, https://jamestown.org/program/ukraine-needs-to-secure-its-maritime-future-mosquito-fleet-provides-a-viable-strategy/. Acknowledgments The author would like to thank Commander David Garrett, U.S. Navy, Lt. Colonel Dr. Christian Richter, expert on public international law, and two unknown peer- reviewers for helpful comments on an earlier version.  Disclosure statement No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s). Notes on contributor Tobias Kollakowski is a research fellow at the German Institute for Defence and Strategic Studies. Adams, Paul, ‘Ukraine Claims to Retake Black Sea Drilling Rigs from Russian Control’, BBC, 11 Sept. 2023, https://www.bbc.com/news/66779639. AFP, ‘Ukraine Says Sank Russian Landing Craft at Snake Island’, The Moscow Times, 11 May 2022, https://www.themoscowtimes.com/2022/05/07/ukraine-says-sank-russian-landing-craft-at-snake-island-a77614. AP News, ‘Ukrainian Navy Says a Third of Russian Warships in the Black Sea Have Been Destroyed or Disabled’, 26 Mar. 2024, https://apnews.com/article/russia-ukraine-war-black-sea-navy-warships-8f614d856370a564ffee1e49f5313343. Arnauld, Andreas von, Völkerrecht (Heidelberg: C.F. Müller 2019). Aube, Hyacinthe Laurent Théophile, ‘La guerre maritime et les ports militaires de la France’, Revue des deux mondes (1882), 314–46. Baker, Sinéad, ‘Putin doesn’t Really Want a War with NATO Because ‘Russia Will Lose and Lose quickly,’ UK Military Chief Says’, Business Insider, 28 Feb. 2024, https://www.businessinsider.com/putin-doesnt-want-nato-war-russia-would-lose-quickly-uk-2024-2?r=US&IR=T. Balmforth, Tom and Yuliia Dysa, ‘Ukraine Attacks Russian Warships in Black Sea, Destroys Air Defences in Crimea, Kyiv Says’, Reuters, 14 Sept. 2023, https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/ukraine-destroys-russian-air-defence-system-near-crimeas-yevpatoriya-source-2023-09-14/. Barrie, Douglas, ‘Anti-Access/area Denial: Bursting the ‘No-go’ Bubble?’, IISS Military Balance Blog, 29 Mar. 2019, https://www.iiss.org/blogs/military-balance/2019/04/anti-access-balance/2019/04/anti-access-area-denial-russia-and-crimea. Bockmann, Michelle Wiese, ‘Western Tankers Abandon Black Sea Crude Markets After Ukraine Drone Attacks’, Lloyd’s List, 7 Aug. 2023, https://www.lloydslist.com/LL1146178/Western-tankers-abandon-Black-Sea-crude-markets-after-Ukraine-drone-attacks. Braw, Elisabeth, ‘The Invasion of Ukraine is Causing Crisis at Sea’, Foreign Policy, 2022, https://foreignpolicy.com/2022/03/07/ukraine-shipping-supply-war/. Charmes, Gabriel, La Réforme de la Marine (Paris: Calmann Lévy 1886). Cheetham, Joshua, ‘Sea Drones: What are They and How Much Do They Cost?’ BBC, 2023, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-66373052. Childs, Nick, ‘The Black Sea in the Shadow of War’, Survival 65/3 (2023), 25–36. doi:10.1080/00396338.2023.2218694  Colomb, Philip Howard, Naval Warfare: Its Ruling Principles and Practice Historically Treated (London: W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd. 1891). Corbett, Julian, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy (London: Longmans, Green and Co. 1911). Cropsey, Seth, ‘Naval Considerations in the Russo-Ukrainian War’, Naval War College Review 75/4 (2022), Article 4.  Defense Express, ‘Ukraine’s Navy Looking to Acquire 30 New Warships by 2020’, 12 Apr. 2018, https://old.defence-ua.com/index.php/en/news/4367-ukraine-s-navy-looking-to-acquire-30-new-warships-by-2020. Defense Express, ‘First Target of Ukraine’s Neptune Missile’, 12 Jan. 2024a, https://en.defence-ua.com/events/first_target_of_ukraines_neptune_missile_how_the_moskva_flagship_killer_scored_its_first_hit_and_prevented_amphibious_assault-9162.html Defense Express, ‘Destruction of Russian Novocherkassk Ship Has Blocked One of Logistic Channels to Crimea (Satellite Photo)’, 12 Apr. 2024b, https://en.defence-ua.com/analysis/destruction_of_russian_novocherkassk_ship_has_blocked_one_of_logistic_channels_to_crimea_satellite_photo-10152.html. Delanoë, Igor, ‘Russia’s Black Sea Fleet in the “Special Military Operation” in Ukraine’, 7 Feb. 2024, https://www.fpri.org/article/2024/02/russias-black-sea-fleet-in-the-special-military-operation-in-ukraine/. Detsch, Jack, ‘Russia’s Home Port in Occupied Crimea is Under Fire’, Foreign Policy, 13 Sept. 2023, https://foreignpolicy.com/2023/09/13/crimea-ukraine-russia-war-attack-black-sea-fleet/. Deutsche, Welle, ‘Russia Pulls Back Forces from Snake Island — as it Happened’, 30 June 2022, <https://www.dw.com/en/ukraine-russia-pulls-back-forces-from-snake-island-as-it-happened/a-62309716>. Doswald-Beck, Louise ed. San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea (Cambridge: Cambridge UP 1995). Eckel, Mike, ‘Russia’s Navy Has a Dry Dock Problem. Again’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 16 Sept. 2023, https://www.rferl.org/a/russia-navy-dry-dock-problem-ukraine-/32595547.html. Evans, Angelica, Christina Harward, Grace Mappes, Riley Bailey, and W. Kagan Frederick, ‘Russian Offensive Campaign Assessment’, 12 Apr. 2024 Institute for the Study of War, https://www.understandingwar.org/backgrounder/russian-offensive-campaign-assessment-april-12-2024. Fink, Udo and Ines Gillich, Humanitäres Völkerrecht (Baden-Baden: Nomos 2023). Fornusek, Martin, ‘Military Intelligence: Oil Pipeline Blown Up in Russia’s Rostov Oblast’, The Kyiv Independent, 6 Apr. 2024, https://kyivindependent.com/military-intelligence-oil-pipeline-in-russias-rostov-oblast-on-fire Frühling, Stephan and Guillaume Lasconjarias, ‘NATO, A2/AD and the Kaliningrad Challenge’, Survival 58/2 (2016), 95–116. doi:10.1080/00396338.2016.1161906  Gavin, Gabriel, ‘Ukraine Declares War on Russia’s Black Sea Shipping’, Politico, 8 Aug. 2023, https://www.politico.eu/article/ukraine-declares-war-on-russia-black-sea-shipping/ Golovan, Milana, ‘MAGURA V5 Drones Attack Tsezar Kunikov Ship: Russian Occupiers Release First-Person Video Footage’, LIGABusinessInform, 6 Mar. 2024, https://news.liga.net/en/politics/video/kak-drony-magura-v5-atakovali-tsezarya-kunikova-okkupanty-pokazali-video-ot-pervogo-litsa Gorschkow, Sergej G., Die Seemacht des Staates (Militärverlag der Deutschen Demokratischen Republik 1978) [Morskai͡a Moshch‘ gosudarstva]. (Berlin: Voenizdat 1976). Greenall, Robert, ‘Ukraine ‘Hits Russian Missile Boat Ivanovets in Black Sea’, BBC, 01 Feb. 2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-68165523 Gressel, Gustav, ‘Waves of Ambition: Russia’s Military Build-Up in Crimea and the Black Sea’, European Council on Foreign Relations, 21 Sept. 2021, https://ecfr.eu/publication/waves-of-ambition-russias-military-build-up-in-crimea-and-the-black-sea/ Grivel, Richild, De la guerre maritime avant et depuis les nouvelles inventions (Paris: Arthus Bertrand and J. Dumaine 1869). Habib, Md. Tanvir and Shah Md Shamrir Al Af, ‘Maritime Asymmetric Warfare Strategy for Smaller States: Lessons from Ukraine‘, Small Wars & Insurgencies 36/1 (2025), 29–58.  Heuser, Beatrice, The Evolution of Strategy: Thinking War from Antiquity to the Present (Cambridge: Cambridge UP 2010). Holmes, James R. and Toshi Yoshihara, Chinese Naval Strategy in the 21st Century: The Turn to Mahan (London and New York: Routledge 2008). Hooper, Craig, ‘Why Ukraine’s Strike on Sevastopol Naval Infrastructure is a Big Deal’, Forbes, 14 Sept. 2024, https://www.forbes.com/sites/craighooper/2023/09/13/why-ukraines-strike-on-sebastopol-naval-infrastructure-is-a-big-deal/ Instytut Viĭs’kovo-Mors’kykh Syl, ‘Doktrina: Viĭs’kovo-Mors’ki Syly Zbroĭnykh sylUkraïny‘, Jan. 2021, https://ivms.mil.gov.ua/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/doktryna_vijskovo-morski-syly-zbrojnyh-syl-ukrayiny.pdf Interfaks, ‘Chislo postradavshikh pri atake na stab Chernomorskogo flota vyroslo do shesti’, 31 July 2022, https://www.interfax.ru/russia/854608 Interfaks, ‘Tanker povrezhden na podkhode k kerchenskomu prolivu, predpolozhitel’no, morskim dronom’, 5 Aug. 2023, https://www.interfax.ru/russia/914933 International Committee of the Red Cross, ‘Procès-Verbal Relating to the Rules of Submarine Warfare Set Forth in Part IV of the Treaty of London of 22 April 1930. London, 6 November 1936’, https://ihl-databases.icrc.org/assets/treaties/330-IHL-45-EN.pdf Jankowicz, Mia, ‘Russia’s Black Sea Fleet is ‘Functionally inactive’ After Being Pummeled Hard by Ukraine, UK Says’, Business Insider, 25 Mar. 2024, https://www.businessinsider.com/russia-black-sea-fleet-functionally-inactive-after-ukraine-strikes-uk-2024-3 Kabanenko, Ihor, ‘Ukraine’s New Naval Doctrine: A Revision of the Mosquito Fleet Strategy or Bureaucratic Inconsistency?’ Eurasia Daily Monitor, 25 May 2021, https://jamestown.org/program/ukraines-new-naval-doctrine-a-revision-of-the-mosquito-fleet-strategy-or-bureaucratic-inconsistency/ Keating, Bern, The Mosquito Fleet (New York: Scholastic Book Services 1969) [ originally published 1963]. Kolb, Robert and Richard Hyde, Introduction to the International Law of Armed Conflicts (Oxford and Portland, OR: Hart Publishing 2008). Kormych, Borys and Tetyana Malyarenko, ‘From Gray Zone to Conventional Warfare: The Russia-Ukraine Conflict in the Black Sea’, Small Wars & Insurgencies 34/7 (2023), 1235–70. doi:10.1080/09592318.2022.2122278  Kostenko, Maria, Tim Lister, and Sophie Tanno, ‘Ukraine Says Strike on Russia’s Black Sea Fleet HQ Left Dozens Dead and Wounded ‘Including Senior Leadership’, CNN, 23 Sept. 2023, https://edition.cnn.com/2023/09/23/europe/special-ops-black-sea-strike-dozens-dead-intl-hnk/index.html Koval’, Sergeĭ, ‘U beregov kryma potoplen rossiĭskiĭ raketnyĭ kater. Chto o nem izvestno?‘ Krym Realii, 1 Feb. 2024, https://ru.krymr.com/a/krym-potoplen-ros-raketnyy-kater/32801464.html Kramer, Andrew E., ‘In a Tough Year on Land, Drones Give Ukraine Some Success at Sea’, New York Times, 20 Dec. 2023, https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/20/world/europe/ukraine-drones-sea.html Kraska, James and Raul Pedrozo, International Maritime Security Law (Leiden: Brill 2013). Krepinevich, Andrew F. and Barry Watts, ‘Meeting the Anti-Access and Area-Denial Challenge’,Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments, 20 May 2003, https://csbaonline.org/research/publications/a2ad-anti-access-area-denial Lister, Tim, ‘A Russian Naval Base was Targeted by Drones. Now Ukrainian Grain Exports are at Risk’, CNN, 31 Oct. 2022, https://edition.cnn.com/2022/10/31/europe/sevastopol-drone-russia-ukraine-grain-intl-cmd/index.html Lloyd’s List, ‘Russia Warns That Ships Heading to Ukraine are Now a Military Target’, 20 July 2023a, https://www.lloydslist.com/LL1145965/Russia-warns-that-ships-heading-to-Ukraine-are-now-a-military-target Lloyd’s List, ‘Ukraine Attacks Russian Port of Novorossiysk’, 04 Aug. 2023b, https://lloydslist.com/LL1146152/Ukraine-attacks-Russian-port-of-Novorossiysk Mahan, Alfred Thayer, The Influence of Sea Power Upon History 1660–1783 (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company 1890). Mahan, Alfred Thayer, Lessons of the War with Spain and Other Articles (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company 1899). Manley, Cameron, ‘Ukraine Says it Has Taken Out Another 2 Warships in Russia’s Black Sea Fleet’, Business Insider, 24 March 2024, https://www.businessinsider.com/ukraine-taken-out-another-2-ships-russias-black-sea-fleet-2024-3 The Maritime Executive, ‘Ukraine Strikes Another Naval Shipyard in Russian-Occupied Crimea’, 05 Nov. 2024, https://maritime-executive.com/article/ukraine-strikes-another-naval-shipyard-in-russian-occupied-crimea McCranie, Kevin, Mahan, Corbett, and the Foundations of Naval Strategic Thought (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press 2021). Militarnyi, ‘Frigates for Ukrainian Navy: The Construction Agreement was Included into Contract with the United Kingdom’, 25 Nov. 2021, https://mil.in.ua/en/news/frigates-for-ukrainian-navy-the-construction-agreement-was-included-into-contract-with-the-united-kingdom/ Militarnyi, ‘The Ukrainian Navy Received Naval Drones Equipped with Strike FPV drones’, 8 Dec. 2024, https://mil.in.ua/en/news/the-ukrainian-navy-received-naval-drones-equipped-with-strike-fpv-drones/ Ministerstvo oborony Ukraïny, ‘Zai͡ava Ministerstva Oborony Ukraïny‘, Facebook, 20 July 2023, https://www.facebook.com/MinistryofDefence.UA/posts/pfbid02fGmqenfANV5TABt16PgMpJRT7k5sbkeUhkEAsbkeUhkEAVZuvxxS2dgPkH2qAR7yl Monakov, Mikhail and Jürgen Rohwer, Stalin’s Ocean-Going Fleet: Soviet Naval Strategy and Shipbuilding Programs, 1935–53 (Abingdon: Frank Cass 2001). Motte, Martin, Une Éducation Géostratégique. La Pensée Navale Française de la Jeune École à 1914 (Paris: Economica 2004). Nate, Silviu, Antonia Colibasanuet, Stavytskyy Andriy, and Ganna Kharlamova, ‘Impact of the Russo-Ukrainian War on Black Sea Trade: Geoeconomic Challenges’, Economics & Sociology 17/1 (2024), 256–79. doi:10.14254/2071-789X.2024/17-1/16  Newdick, Thomas, ‘Russian Submarine Shows Massive Damage After Ukrainian Strike’, The Warzone, 18 Sept. 2024, https://www.twz.com/russian-submarine-shows-massive-damage-after-ukrainian-strike Ostiller, Nate and The Kyiv Independent News Desk, ‘General Staff Confirms Russian Missile Ship Tsiklon Struck in Occupied Crimea’, The Kyiv Independent, 21 May 2024, https://kyivindependent.com/general-staff-confirms-russian-missile-ship-zyklon-struck-off-occupied-crimea Osuga, Jason Y., ‘Building an Asymmetric Ukrainian Naval Force to Defend the Sea of Azov, Pt. 2’, CIMSEC, 2 Oct. 2017, https://cimsec.org/tag/ukraine/page/2/ Ozberk, Tayfun, ‘Analysis: Russia to Dominate the Black Sea in Case of Ukraine Conflict’, Naval News, 30 Jan. 2022, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2022/01/analysis-russia-to-dominate-the-black-sea-in-case-of-ukraine-conflict/ Ozberk, Tayfun, ‘Turkish Shipyard Lays Keel of Ukraine’s 2nd MILGEM Corvette’, Naval News, 18 Aug. 2023, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2023/08/turkish-shipyard-lays-keel-of-ukraine-2nd-milgem-corvette/ Patalano, Alessio, Post-War Japan as a Sea Power: Imperial Legacy, Wartime Experience and the Making of a Navy (London: Bloomsburry 2016). Pedrozo, Raul, ‘Maritime Exclusion Zones in Armed Conflicts’, International Law Studies 99/526 (2022). https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3018&context=ils Prezydent Ukraïny, ‘Ukaz Prezydenta Ukraïny No. 217/2020‘, 2020, https://www.president.gov.ua/documents/2172020-34085 Rahn, Werner, ‘The Atlantic in the Strategic Perspective of Hitler and His Admirals, 1939-1944’, in N.A.M. Rodger, J. Ross Dancy, Benjamin Darnell, and Evan Wilson (eds.), Strategy and the Sea: Essays in Honour of John B. Hattendorf (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press 2016), 159–68. Ranft, Bryan and Geoffrey Till, The Sea in Soviet Strategy, 2nd ed. (Basingstoke: MacMillan Press 1989). Redford, Duncan, ‘Maritime Lessons from the Ukraine-Russia Conflict: USVs and the Applicability to the Baltic and High North’, #GIDSstatement 11/2024 (14 Oct. 2024), https://gids-hamburg.de/maritime-lessons-from-the-ukraine-russia-conflict-usvs-and-the-applicability-to-the-baltic-and-high-north/ Ritchie, Hannah, ‘Ukrainian Drone Destroys Russian Patrol Ships off Snake Island, Says Defense Ministry’, CNN, 2 May 2022, https://edition.cnn.com/europe/live-news/russia-ukraine-war-news-05-02-22#h_a73ac98f2400af01f729e23a7e01ae88 Røksund, Arne, The Jeune École: The Strategy of the Weak (Leiden: Brill 2007). Romaniuk, Roman, Sam Harvey, and Olya Loza, ‘Sea Drones, Elon Musk, and High-Precision Missiles: How Ukraine Dominates in the Black Sea’, Ukrainska Pravda, 1 Jan. 2024, https://www.pravda.com.ua/eng/articles/2024/01/1/7435326/ Ryzhenko, Andrii, ‘Ukraine Needs to Secure Its Maritime Future: ‘Mosquito Fleet’ Provides a Viable Strategy,’ 13 Jun. 2023, https://jamestown.org/program/ukraine-needs-to-secure-its-maritime-future-mosquito-fleet-provides-a-viable-strategy/ Sadler, Brent, ‘Applying Lessons of the Naval War in Ukraine for a Potential War with China’, The Heritage Foundation, 5 Jan. 2023, https://www.heritage.org/asia/report/applying-lessons-the-naval-war-ukraine-potential-war-china Salewski, Michael, Die deutsche Seekriegsleitung 1935–1945 Vol. I (Frankfurt am Main und München: Bernard & Graefe 1970). Sanders, Deborah, ‘Rebuilding the Ukrainian Navy’, Naval War College Review 70/4 (2017), Article 5. Schmitt, Michael N., ‘Ukraine Symposium – Further Thoughts on Russia’s Campaign Against Ukraine’s Power Infrastructure’, Lieber Institute West Point, 25 Nov. 2022, https://lieber.westpoint.edu/further-thoughts-russias-campaign-against-ukraines-power-infrastructure/ Schneider, Jacquelyn and Julia Macdonald, ‘Looking Back to Look Forward: Autonomous Systems, Military Revolutions, and the Importance of cost,’ 162’, Journal of Strategic Studies 47/2 (2024), 162–84. doi:10.1080/01402390.2022.2164570  Schreck, Adam and Hanna Arhirova, ‘Russia Unleashes Biggest Attacks in Ukraine in Months’, The Associated Press News, 11 Oct. 2022, https://apnews.com/article/russia-ukraine-kyiv-government-and-politics-8f625861590b9e0dd336dabc0880ac8c Scott, David, ‘India’s Drive for a ‘Blue Water’ Navy’, The Journal of Military and Strategic Studies Winter 2007-08, 10/2 (2008), 1–42. Shephard News, ‘UK Says Saky Explosions Leave Russian Navy Black Sea Aviation Fleet ‘Significantly Degraded’, 12 Aug. 2022, https://www.shephardmedia.com/news/defence-notes/uk-says-explosions-leave-russian-navy-black-sea-aircraft-significantly-degraded/ Shulzhenko, Daria, ‘Ukraine’s Security Chief: Attacks on Russian Ships, Crimean Bridge ‘Logical and Legal,’ The Kyiv Independent, 5 Aug. 2024, https://kyivindependent.com/sbu-head-says-attacks-on-russian-ships-crimean-bridge-are-logical-and-legal/ Shurkin, Michael, ‘Plus Ça Change: A French Approach to Naval Warfare in the 21st Century’, War on the Rocks, 13 Oct. 2023, https://warontherocks.com/2023/10/plus-ca-change-a-french-approach-to-naval-warfare-in-the-21st-century/ Sluz͡hba bezpeky Ukraïny, ‘golova SBU Vasil’ Mali͡uk prokomentuvav neshchodavni ataky nadvodnymy dronamy na korabli rf‘, 5 Aug. 2023, https://t.me/SBUkr/9185 Sonko, Alona., ‘Aerial Shots Detail Drone Damage at Novorossiysk Port’, The New Voice of Ukraine, 19 May 2024, https://english.nv.ua/nation/satellite-images-show-aftermath-of-may-17-attack-on-novorossiysk-seaport-50419745.html Speller, Ian, Understanding Naval Warfare, 2nd ed. (London and New York, NY: Routledge 2019). Stegemann, Bernd, ‘Vierter Teil: Die erste Phase der Seekriegsführung’, in Klaus A. Maier, Horst Rohde, Bernd Stegemann, and Hans Umbreit (eds.), Das Deutsche Reich und der Zweite Weltkrieg Vol. II (Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlagsanstalt 1979), 159–88. Sutton, H. I., ‘Ukraine’s Maritime Drone Strikes Again: Reports Indicate Attack on Novorossiysk’, Naval News, 18 Nov. 2022, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2022/11/ukraine-maritime-drone-strikes-again-reports-indicate-attack-on-novorossiysk/ Symonds, Craig, ‘Alfred Thayer Mahan’, in Geoffrey Till (ed.), Maritime Strategy and the Nuclear Age (London and Basingstoke: MacMillan Academic and Professional Ltd 1990[1984]), 28–33. Syngaivska, Sofiia, ‘Russia Uses Civilian Vessels for Military Purposes, Including Recently Attacked Sig Merchant Tanker’, 10 Aug. 2023, https://en.defence-ua.com/news/russia_uses_civilian_vessels_for_military_purposes_including_recently_attacked_sig_merchant_tanker-7590.html Tass, ‘Kiev Loses 30 Drones in Attempt to Seize Snake Island,’ Russian Defense Ministry, 10 May 2022, https://tass.com/defense/1449051?utm_source=google.com=organic=google.com=google.com/amp/amp/amp Till, Geoffrey, Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century, 4th ed. (London and New York, NY: Routledge 2018). Uchimiya, Ellen and Eleanor Watson ‘The Neptune: The Missiles That Struck Russia’s Flagship, the Moskva’, CBS News, 16 Apr. 2022, https://www.cbsnews.com/news/moskva-ship-sinking-russian-flagship-neptune-missiles/ UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office, ‘G7 Foreign Ministers’ Meeting communiqué (Capri, 19 April, 2024) – Steadfast Support to Ukraine’, 19 April 2024, https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/g7-foreign-ministers-meeting-communiques-april-2024/g7-foreign-ministers-meeting-communique-capri-19-april-2024-steadfast-support-to-ukraine UK Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office and James Cleverly, ‘New Intelligence Shows Russia’s Targeting of a Cargo Ship’, 11 Sept. 2023, https://www.gov.uk/government/news/new-intelligence-shows-russias-targeting-of-a-cargo-ship UK Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office and Nicholas Aucott, ‘Russia is Diminished in the Eyes of the International Community Through Its Own Actions: UK Statement to the OSCE’, 6 Dec. 2023, https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/russia-is-diminished-in-the-eyes-of-the-international-community-through-its-own-actions-uk-statement-to-the-osce UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Latest Defence Intelligence Update on the Situation in Ukraine - 16 August 2022’, X, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1559411321581572098 UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Latest Defence Intelligence Update on the Situation in Ukraine - 05 August 2023’, X, 5 Aug. 2023a, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1687697529918373889?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1687697529918373889%7Ctwgr%5E751b5a68b67ea91d2ca704e56fc3a0c7c88c3053%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.forces.net%2Frussia%2Frussian-war-ship-damaged-significant-blow-russias-black-sea-fleet-mod-says UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Update on Ukraine’, X, 15 Sept. 2023b, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1702561936179630440?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1702561936179630440%7Ctwgr%5E64b3d174bc910eae91016ef92e9b0b07e88b9194%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.twz.com%2Frussian-submarine-shows-massive-damage-after-ukrainian-strike UK Ministry of Defence, ‘British Minehunting Ships to Bolster Ukrainian Navy as UK and Norway Launch Maritime Support Initiative’, 11 Dec. 2023c, https://www.gov.uk/government/news/british-minehunting-ships-to-bolster-ukrainian-navy-as-uk-and-norway-launch-maritime-support-initiative#:~:text=The%20UK%20will%20lead%20a,ships%20for%20the%20Ukrainian%20Navy UK Ministry of Defence, ‘Latest Defence Intelligence Update on the Situation in Ukraine – 18 April 2024’, X, 18 April 2024, https://x.com/DefenceHQ/status/1780878487068242335/photo/3 Un ancien officier de marine, ‘Torpilleurs et Torpilles’, La Nouvelle revue 32 January–February 7 (1885), 42–71. Vego, Milan N., Naval Strategy and Operations in Narrow Seas, 2nd ed. (Abingdon and New York, NY: Cass 2003). Vel’moz͡hko, Oleksandr, ‘Rosiĭs’kyĭ flot znovu vidstupai͡e u bazi (VIDEO)’, Pivdennyĭ Kur’i͡er, 10 Dec. 2022, https://uc.od.ua/news/navy/1248235 Viĭs’kovo-Mors’ki Syly Zbroĭnykh syl Ukraïny, ‘Strategy of the Naval Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine 2035‘, 11 Jan. 2019, https://navy.mil.gov.ua/en/strategiya-vijskovo-morskyh-syl-zbrojnyh-syl-ukrayiny-2035/ Wagner, Gerhard ed. Lagevorträge des Oberbefehlshabers der Kriegsmarine vor Hitler 1939–1945 (München: J.F. Lehmanns Verlag 1972). Walker, Shaun, ‘Odesa Suffers ‘Hellish night’ as Russia Attacks Ukraine Grain Facilities’, The Guardian, 19 July 2023, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/jul/19/odesa-suffers-hellish-night-as-russia-attacks-ukraines-grain-facilities Welt, ‘Militärexperte Gressel: Darum hat die ukrainische Armee kaum eine Chance gegen Russen‘, 24 Jan. 2022, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aNzUf3zllJ4 Willett, Lee, ‘Ukrainian Navy Chief Details Future Force Requirements’, Naval News, 18 Dec. 2023, https://www.navalnews.com/naval-news/2023/12/ukrainian-navy-chief-details-future-force-requirements/ Yohannes-Kassahun, Bitsat, ‘One Year Later: The Impact of the Russian Conflict with Ukraine on Africa’, United Nations Africa Renewal, 13 Feb. 2023, https://www.un.org/africarenewal/magazine/february-2023/one-year-later-impact-russian-conflict-ukraine-africa

Defense & Security
Kim Jong-un (2023-09-13) 01

Could North Korea be Persuaded to Renounce Chemical Weapons?

by Joel R. Keep

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском North Korea is not going to give up its nuclear weapons any time soon. Pyongyang’s other strategic deterrent—a massive arsenal of chemical weapons—may prove a more fruitful target for disarmament. The strategic fortunes of North Korea in 2025 are very different to that of 2017. When Donald J. Trump first assumed the presidential office in January of that year, Pyongyang was still in the process of building a viable nuclear weapons platform that could target the continental United States. The 2017 North Korean Nuclear Crisis prompted the Trump administration to launch a concerted attempt to coerce Pyongyang into “complete, verifiable and irreversible denuclearisation (CVID).” Washington’s efforts, involving a mixture of brinkmanship, hard bargaining—and explicit threats via the deployment of serious military assets—ultimately failed. Later that year, the North successfully tested an intercontinental ballistic missile capable of reaching the US homeland. The subsequent 2018 summit between Trump and Kim Jong-un, held in Singapore, and the 2019 summit in Hanoi, led nowhere. When Donald Trump assumed office for the second time, in January of 2025, he struck a very different tone on Pyongyang. North Korea was now, he acknowledged, an established nuclear power. Today, in addition to properly miniaturised nuclear warheads that can be fit on several delivery platforms, Kim’s regime oversees an arsenal that includes intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs), intermediate range missiles (IRBMs), medium range ballistic missiles, submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), and cruise missiles. Even if only a portion of these systems are fully functional, this still amounts to a serious military capability that cannot be forcibly removed, barring a massive conflagration. There is another, possibly more manageable class of strategic weapon that North Korea has been harbouring over several years—chemical weapons (CW). These are thought to include sulphur mustard, phosgene, Sarin and other nerve agents, some likely ranged against vulnerable South Korean population centres via artillery, missiles, and multiple rocket launchers. For several years now, South Korea’s Ministry of National Defense has estimated this stockpile comprises between 2,000 and 5,000 tonnes of CW agent. Pyongyang’s CW capability was demonstrated in grotesque miniature on 13 February 2017, when Kim Jong-un’s estranged half-brother, Kim Jong-nam, was killed with VX nerve agent at Kuala Lumpur International Airport. The public murder of Kim Jong-nam was conducted just as the 2017 North Korean Nuclear Crisis began, on the morning after Pyongyang successfully tested their Pukguksong-2 (KN-15) medium range ballistic missile over the Sea of Japan. Horrific as the VX murder was, it pales in comparison to the likely human impact of CW agents being used, in mass, against South Korean towns and cities in the event of a conflict. With North Korean nuclear weapons now an undeniable reality, those focused on arms limitation are left with few options in 2025. As such, Pyongyang’s chemical weapons portfolio might be worth putting on the negotiating table. North Korea still finds itself the target of sanctions and thus has an incentive to engage in disarmament talks of some kind. American officials, stung by the failure of 2017, might like to regain some clout with an achievable disarmament “win,” albeit of a non-nuclear kind. And of course, South Korea, home to the population that would suffer most from the North’s chemical weapons, would greatly benefit from seeing them verifiably destroyed.   There is a recent precedent for decommissioning an active chemical weapons program in the case of Syria. In (slightly) happier times, Russia and the United States pressured the embattled regime of Bashar al Assad into acceding to the 1993 Chemical Weapons Convention and forfeiting tonne-quantities of CW agent, after a series of government chemical attacks on civilians in 2013. Admittedly, the destruction of Syria’s chemical weapons stockpile was only a partial success, as evidenced by the resumption of nerve agent attacks in 2017, Assad’s uninterrupted “low level” use of improvised chlorine munitions, and recent revelations of a larger CW program than originally declared. And of course, facing as he was a determined insurgency and popular uprising, al Assad’s position in the 2010s was entirely different to that of Kim’s in 2025. However, if, as some have suggested, North Korea’s chemical weapons program was designed to fill a “deterrence gap” during the long march to acquire a viable nuclear weapons arsenal, Kim might be persuaded to engage in discussions on renouncing CW. This would be even more likely if Pyongyang has in fact already developed tactical nuclear weapons for shorter range use on the Peninsula, an objective Kim claimed to achieve in 2023. As a first step, perhaps a more fruitful model than Syria might be the 1992 India-Pakistan Agreement on Chemical Weapons, which saw the complete prohibition of CW on the subcontinent. Such an agreement could realistically be applied to the Korean Peninsula, where Seoul is no longer in possession of any chemical weapons as of 2008, and Pyongyang repeatedly claims not to have any CW themselves. Some may regard the idea of Pyongyang giving up any strategic weapon system as fanciful. Having signed a Comprehensive Strategic Partnership with Moscow in 2024 after committing thousands of troops to Russia’s war on Ukraine, North Korea’s degree of isolation within the wider geopolitical architecture has lessened, if only slightly. But while it may seem counter-intuitive, the Trump administration’s declared intention to re-establish closer ties with Vladimir Putin’s Russia might provide an opening for addressing the North Korea CW issue. This would require Moscow taking a more productive approach than it ultimately did in Syria, where an initial spirit of co-operation was later sullied by a determined Russian campaign to protect the Assad regime from accountability for the resumption of CW use, and other atrocities. Neither Washington, nor Moscow, can do much about North Korea’s nuclear arsenal today. Proposing negotiations on chemical weapons, however, might at least restart discussion on disarmament in one sphere, and could ultimately lead to progress on strategic weapons in general. Fully accounting for, and entirely destroying, the North’s chemical weapons would be a complex undertaking. Australia and the US at least have the technical capacity to assist in such an endeavour, should the political opportunity arise. Joel R. Keep is a PhD candidate at the University of New South Wales, where his doctoral work focuses on deterrence, non-proliferation and control of chemical and biological weapons. This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.