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As mercenary troops bore down on Moscow on June 24, 2023, it likely wasn’t only Russian President Vladimir Putin and his governing elite in Russia who were looking on with concern. Over in China, too, there may have been some concerned faces.Throughout the war in Ukraine, Beijing has walked a balancing act of sorts – standing with Putin as an ally and providing an economic lifeline to Russia while trying to insulate China against the prospect of any instability in a neighboring country. A coup in Russia would upend this careful diplomatic dance and provide Beijing with a fresh headache.Joseph Torigian, an expert on China and Russia at American University, walked The Conversation through how Beijing has responded to the chaotic 24 hours in which mercenary chief Yevgeny Prigozhin challenged the Kremlin – and why that matters. Do we have any clues about how Beijing perceived events?It will be hard to guess what Beijing really thinks, especially as there has been little in the way of official comment. Russians understand that the Chinese media – like their own – are tightly controlled. Historically, Russians have strongly cared about how they are depicted in the Chinese press. As such, China will be careful about what is being printed so that Chinese officials don’t get an earful from Russian diplomats. However, real signs of worry from Beijing may get out. In a tweet that was later deleted, political commentator Hu Xijin wrote: “[Progozhin’s] armed rebellion has made the Russian political situation cross the tipping point. Regardless of his outcome, Russia cannot return to the country it was before the rebellion anymore.” Similarly, China Daily – a publication run by the Central Propaganda Department of the Chinese Communist Party – quoted two concerned Chinese scholars in its reporting on the Wagner Group episode. Such commentary may be a subtle way for Beijing to suggest to Moscow it needs to get its house in order. These views could also serve to remind the outside world that China and Russia are different political systems, and that Beijing will not always act in lockstep with Moscow. At the same time, the Chinese government will be at pains not to give any support to a narrative that Beijing is worried about the strategic partnership. Global Times, a state-run Chinese newspaper, has already dismissed Western media reporting that China’s “bet” on Putin was a mistake. Such claims will be framed in China as a plot to hurt Sino-Russian relations. So will the Wagner episode affect China’s support for Putin?The Chinese government likely believes that Putin is still the best chance for stability in Russia and that supporting him is a core foundation of the bilateral relationship. Some Chinese commentators have noted that Putin did emerge victorious quickly, and with little blood spilled. They may be right – although the insurrection is widely viewed as an embarrassment, many observers in the West also believe that Putin will survive the crisis. On the Russian side, given the importance of China for them during the war in Ukraine, officials in Moscow will expect the People’s Republic of China to clearly express support for Putin. During previous moments of intimacy in the relationship, such help was expected and valued. In 1957, when Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev narrowly defeated a putsch, he was so grateful that the Chinese blessed his victory he promised to give them a nuclear weapon. There is a question of how Beijing would have reacted if the mutiny had escalated. History suggests that the Chinese might be tempted to intervene, but also that they understand the challenges any such action would face. For example, during the 1991 attempted coup by Soviet hardliners against then-President Mikhail Gorbachev, some of the leadership in Beijing contemplated providing economic support. Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping, a long Soviet skeptic, ended those incipient plans, and the coup failed. What lessons might the Chinese have drawn for their own system?It’s hard to overstate how what happens in Russia has historically shaped thinking in China about their own country. The birth of the Chinese Communist Party, the Cultural Revolution, the economic reforms of the “reform and opening-up” program from the late 1970s, policy toward ethnic minorities – all of these and more were shaped by what some in China thought the Russians were doing right or wrong. But many in China may wonder how much they have in common with Russia today. Presidents Putin and Xi Jinping certainly have a set of conservative, Western-skeptic and statist “elective affinities.” But Xi’s war on corruption and the Chinese Communist Party’s “command over the gun,” as Chairman Mao put it, mean real differences. The Chinese will likely take pride in their own system, where such a mutiny is hard to imagine, but will nonetheless be careful not to crow about it.

In a surprise move, Turkey has ended its veto on Sweden joining Nato, thereby removing all the barriers to its membership of the military alliance. Hungary quickly followed suit and, as a result of the two countries’ support, a consensus was able to be reached at the 2023 Nato summit in Vilnius, Lithuania. Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan agreeing to support Sweden’s bid to join will be touted as one of the key achievements of the summit. Sweden submitted its formal application for membership in May 2022 alongside Finland, which was admitted into the alliance in April 2023. Sweden, though not a formal member, has had a very close relationship with Nato for almost 30 years, since joining the alliance’s Partnership for Peace programme in 1994. It has contributed to Nato missions. And as a member of the European Union and contributor to the bloc’s common security and defence policy, it has also worked closely with the vast majority of European Nato allies. In pursuing Nato membership, both Sweden and Finland have dramatically shifted their traditional policy of military non-alignment. A critical driver of this move was, clearly, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. It is also more evidence that Russian president Vladimir Putin has failed to achieve two of his own strategic objectives: weakening solidarity in the alliance and preventing further Nato enlargement towards Russia’s borders. Finland and Sweden’s accession is of significant operational importance to how Nato defends allied territory against Russian aggression. Integrating these two nations on its north flank (the Atlantic and European Arctic) will help to solidify plans for defending its Ukraine-adjacent centre (from the Baltic Sea to the Alps). This will ensure that Russia has to contend with powerful and interoperable military forces across its entire western border. Why Turkey lifted its vetoFor a few years now, Turkey’s relationship with Nato has been nuanced and strained. Turkey’s objections to Sweden’s accession were ostensibly connected to its concerns over Sweden’s policy towards the Kurdistan Workers’ Party, or PKK. Turkey has accused Sweden of hosting Kurdish militants. Nato has acknowledged this as a legitimate security concern and Sweden has made concessions as part of its journey towards Nato. The main material driver of the agreement, however, may always have been a carrot being dangled by the US. American president Joe Biden now appears to be moving forward with plans to transfer F-16 fighter jets to Turkey – a deal that appears to have been unlocked by Erdoğan’s changed stance on Sweden. But it is often the case that a host of surrounding deals and suggestions of deals can help facilitate movement at Nato. Everyone, including Turkey, now seems able to sell the developments as a win to their constituents back home. The ‘Nordic round’Sweden’s accession means all Nordic nations are now part of Nato. As well as being significant in operational and military terms, this enlargement has major political, strategic and defence planning implications. Although Finland and Sweden have been “virtual allies” for years, their formal accession means some changes in practice. Strategically, the two are now free to work seamlessly with the rest of the Nato allies to plan for collective defence. Integrating strategic plans is extremely valuable, particularly considering Finland’s massive border with Russia and Sweden’s possession of critical terrain like the Baltic Sea island of Gotland. This will increase strategic interoperability and coordination. Nato allies also open their defence planning books to one another in unprecedented ways. Finland and Sweden will now undergo bilateral (with Nato’s international secretariat) and multilateral (with all allies) examinations as part of the Nato defence planning process. They will also contribute to the strategic decisions that undergird that process. Their defence investments will also be scrutinised (and they will scrutinise the spending of other allies). Initial analysis suggests that while Finland and Sweden have lagged behind their Nordic neighbours’ increases in defence investment since 2014. Finland’s investment in defence leapt significantly leading up to and following its accession to Nato. While we may not know for months if the same is true of Sweden, we may expect similar increases on its part. Alliance norms and peer pressure are powerful. The expansion of Nato to include Sweden is a major step for all these reasons. But while anyone watching the Vilnius summit will naturally now be asking whether the shift changes the situation for Ukraine’s membership aspirations, an answer is unlikely to be on the near horizon. Any final decision on Ukraine being offered a membership action plan for the time being is a bridge too far, especially in the current context of an ongoing war with an outcome that, as yet, is unpredictable.

The bridge connecting mainland Russia across the Kerch strait with the illegally annexed Ukrainian peninsula of Crimea was seriously damaged on July 17 2023, in what appears to be a successful strike by naval drones.  While there has been no official confirmation from Kyiv yet, the attack on a vital Russian supply line fits well into the overall picture of the Ukrainian counteroffensive that has been under way since early June. But the strike is also hugely symbolic, demonstrating Ukraine’s ability to undermine the unlawful Russian claim to Ukrainian territory. The partial destruction of the road bridge followed unsuccessful recent attempts to strike both the bridge and Sevastopol harbour, the main base of the Russian Black Sea fleet. Monday’s attack on the bridge left its parallel railway track undamaged, but all road traffic came to a standstill. Russia is likely to be able to render the bridge operational again as it did after an earlier attack in October 2022. But these repairs will take time, as they did before, and the limited use of the bridge during peak holiday season will serve as a reminder to ordinary Russians of a war that is not without cost to them. Less than four weeks ago, Ukraine also carried out a precision missile strike against the two parallel Chonhar bridges, which provide a vital connection between Crimea and the Russian-occupied part of Kherson region on Ukraine’s mainland.Crimea’s crucial roleThese may seem symbolic strikes of little strategic significance. And on their own, they probably would be, especially as the much-anticipated Ukrainian counteroffensive has been slow in taking back Russian-occupied territory. But these strikes are part of a broader campaign to disrupt Russian supply lines, which is vital to wear down well-entrenched Russian defences across some 1,000km of front line in eastern Ukraine. Crimea plays a crucial role in this context. The links between Russia and southern Ukraine – via the Kerch strait and Chonhar bridges – are potentially vital for supplies to reach Moscow’s occupation forces in the southern Kherson region. This will especially be the case as Ukraine becomes more capable to hit rail and road connections along the so-called Crimean land bridge. Kherson and, further to the east, the Russian-occupied parts of Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhia and Donetsk regions, are critical to providing Crimea with freshwater for drinking and farming. Water is already in short supply following Russia’s destruction of the Nova Kakhovka hydro-electric dam in early June. Little wonder then that Crimea has been heavily militarised since Russia’s illegal annexation of the peninsula in March 2014 – or that Russian troops there have increasingly been threatened by different anti-Putin partisan groups. These include both Russian volunteers and indigenous Crimean Tatars who have become more active since the start of the Ukrainian counteroffensive. Similar attacks occured in August 2022 at a time when Ukraine was gearing up for a successful advance against Russian forces that were eventually driven out of the northern parts of Kherson region.Putin’s vulnerabilitiesWhat is really important in all of this is that these same Russian vulnerabilities still exist, in Crimea and in other parts of the hinterland behind the Russian defences in occupied Ukrainian territory. The strike on the Chonhar bridges on June 22 and on the Kerch strait bridge on July 17 exposes them once more for all to see. This exposure is also symbolically highly significant. The Russian president, Vladimir Putin, is trying to reassert his authority after the abortive mutiny by his erstwhile ally, Wagner boss Yevgeny Prigozhin. So the damage to Putin’s bridge across the Kerch strait further chips away at his strongman image of invincibility. And again, it matters that these attacks happened in Crimea. Of all the territories invaded and still occupied by Russia, this is the one area in which the Russian occupation was overwhelmingly welcomed. What’s more, it is also the one area that Russians are likely to care about, regardless of how detached from reality historical claims to Crimea might sound. So appearing unable to prevent Ukrainian attacks in and on Crimea also exposes a potentially significant personal vulnerability of Putin’s regime and the myths on which it is partially built. This does not mean that the Kremlin is about to lose its grip on Crimea. But Ukrainian claims that it will eventually be able to retake the peninsula, if need be by force, have just become a bit more believable. At a time when debate over how to end Russia’s war on aggression against Ukraine – at the negotiation table or on the battlefield – continues in the west, these strikes serve as a useful reminder that this is Ukraine’s war. It is ultimately decisions in Kyiv that will determine whether, where, and how it can be won.

In the late 19th century, geopolitical thought developed in two steps. First, individual European empires, anxious about their hold over the Eurasian and African land mass, began to codify competitive geostrategies based on their past struggles with one another. Second, the United States (US) took up the most relevant strand of this thinking, from the United Kingdom (UK), and reimagined itself as a global sea power, capable of spreading liberal maritime values such as free exchange worldwide.  These two generations of geopolitics have come home again, brought back to Europe by a well-meaning Joe Biden, the US President. When Biden chose Germany as his key geopolitical partner on the other side of the Atlantic, Europe inexorably began reconfiguring itself according to these two theories. Biden’s choice of Berlin as partner turned Central Europe into a captive fringe for Germany, which in turn spurred a liberal European seaboard to take shape, from the Baltics to Italy.  Biden’s fateful choiceAt the start of his presidency, Biden identified Germany as his key partner in a coming geoeconomic grudge-match with the People’s Republic of China (PRC). With his decision to lift Nord Stream II sanctions Biden was rewarding Europe’s biggest economy and most stable democracy. He was also signalling that Germany must finally take geopolitical responsibility after 30 years of free-riding.  Biden’s choice, logical and well-meaning, has triggered a chain reaction in Europe. Geopolitik is taboo in Germany. So how to respond when the guardian of the open international order pressures you to become geopolitical? The answer is by constitutional means – bind Germany into a federal European state by lifting the right of European Union (EU) governments to veto joint foreign policies. For officials in Berlin, this is the obvious way to harness German power in Europe – so obvious that it does not cross minds that others see things differently. Poles see things differently. They believe federalisation, far from harnessing German power, would cement German dominance of Europe. They do not fear a geopolitical Germany, just so long as it is their kind of geopolitical: they want a Germany that stands up to Russia. But until there is proof that Germany is ready to do so, why commit to federalisation?  The German Government responds by claiming its agenda to federalise EU decision-making is all about standing up to Russia – Olaf Scholz, the German Chancellor, wants assertively to enlarge the EU eastwards, and to do so he must first streamline policy making so that the EU still functions when the Moldovans or Montenegrins are sitting around the table. But the Poles say enlarge the EU first, before reforming it.  Poland wants a ‘geopolitical eastern enlargement’ not a process-driven one: the Polish Government wants to expand the EU quickly into the old ‘crunch zone’ between Russia and Western Europe to protect and reward the Ukrainians’ defence of European values. And it wants to do this before federalisation, to hedge against Berlin gaining power over common European decisions and putting EU enlargement on ice in deference to Moscow.  France, meanwhile, hears these conversations and fears that Germany is losing its recent Westbindung – that it is tilting back towards its historical centre of gravity in the East. This would mark the end of the EU as a Mediterranean project. Panicked by this prospect, the French propose a Europe of ‘concentric circles’. This is the notion of Emmanuel Macron, President of France, that an EU of 36 will have to be led by a sub-group of states. The original six western EU states would be at the political and economic core by dint of the fact that easterners like Poland are still not part of influential clubs like the eurozone.  Europeans unthinkingly establish a German empireThese countries are re-enacting historical fears. Geopolitical thinking is hard-wired into European strategic culture, and Germany, Poland and France fall easily into the tropes of late imperial anxiety. Poland fears again being in a crunch zone between Russian and German condominiums. France fears the loss of its old African sphere of influence. And Germany is afraid of others seeing Europe as its empire.  The tragedy of European geopolitics, moreover, is that it is built on historical fears that become self-fulfilling. Combined, these three ideas – ‘European federalisation’, ‘concentric circles’ and ‘geopolitical enlargement’ – formalise unfair political hierarchies in Europe and cement what all fear most – German dominance.  By federalising the EU, Berlin is unwittingly cementing its own position at the top of the European pecking order. It is constitutionalising Europe along very German lines.  The French are aware that Germany is cementing these power hierarchies, but they cling to the belief that they can benefit – that Paris and the original EU states will join Berlin in the inner circle of European affairs. But the French-German relationship has shattered, and Germany now sits alone in the inner circle. So when the French promote the notion of ‘concentric circles’ they legitimise only their own downgrade.  Tellingly, other founding EU members – Belgium, Luxembourg and Italy – are embracing life in the second tier. During the pandemic, when hit by German border closures, Italy teamed up with neighbouring Bavaria, Luxembourg with Rhineland Palatinate, Belgium with North Rhine Westphalia. These EU members now routinely behave as if they were themselves German Laender and the German federal order were Europe’s. As for Warsaw’s notion of ‘geopolitical enlargement’, it in effect relegates Poland and its closest partners to a third or fourth tier. Poland argues that reform of voting procedures should be delayed until after Ukraine and the nine other potential members have joined the EU – implying that new members will renounce their voting rights whilst the EU reforms. In so doing Poland is legitimising precisely what it has complained of for years – the way new states are treated as mute ‘policy-takers’ by Germany long after they join.  Poland’s idea of ‘geopolitical enlargement’ also risks relegating non-EU members like Britain and Norway to the political fringes even as they try to partner with the EU in Ukraine and Eastern Europe: Poland is trying to motivate Germany to enlarge the EU eastwards with the narrative about the need to compete with ‘third powers’ and contain their influence. But, unwittingly, this lumps Britain and Norway in with the PRC and Russia, making them interlopers in their own backyard.  Germany as change-brakerA Berlin-centric European order need not be oppressive for countries in its outer tiers, so long as Germany is responsive and shows moderation. But Scholz does not easily budge. His Germany is mired in angst about its manufacturing prowess, and has little room for others’ concerns. Berlin, faced with demands across Europe for German action and cash, is experiencing a kind of imperial fatigue. Officials not only speak of EU enlargement as a kind of overstretch. They describe the big dossiers in pessimistic, Malthusian terms – digital connectivity in terms of ‘shrinking space’, migration in terms of ‘global overpopulation’, climate transition as a ‘scramble for rare resources’.  This pessimistic Germany too often uses its centrality to protect and enforce the unsustainable European status quo. Instead of radically overhauling Europe’s energy infrastructure during the recent gas crisis, for instance, Berlin announced that it expected southern EU states to give Germany their gas stocks. The bottom line: give us your gas or we will give you our economic recession.  Germany, remember, did not undergo the usual pattern of de-industrialisation over the last 30 years. Instead, it kept its manufacturing sector afloat by squeezing value from Europe’s political and economic infrastructure. This is still the easiest option even if that infrastructure today has little to give. Its neighbours, however, are not yet ready to accept their fate as Germany’s captive fringe. Their fear that Scholz’s Berlin may be adopting a Germany First approach is triggering a remarkable reshuffling of alliances in Europe, as reformist states try to coalesce against Berlin. The Netherlands and France, historically at odds over economic policy, are teaming up. Even more surprisingly France and Poland, so angered by the German stance on nuclear power, are aligning on a cautious selection of strategic matters.  This possible shift of power away from Germany has somehow been missed. True, there has been a lot of talk about a shift of power eastwards in the EU, towards Central Europe, but most commentators agree that this will amount to little given Poland’s divisive domestic politics. Far more interesting and vital is the shift of power westwards, as Germany tries to rewire its critical infrastructure so that energy, investment capital and ideas flow into its ailing economy from the west, not east.  Simple geography makes seaboard states like the Netherlands or Italy access points for resources heading to Germany from the Americas and Africa.  Europe’s liberal seaboardEurope’s seaboard states are alive to the opportunities this shift creates. Italy has revived plans from the 1950s to become an energy hub between Africa and Europe. The British with their long coastline can act as a supplier of wind energy and a dock for liquid natural gas to Europe. The Dutch, having established their ports as a main disembarkation point for US troops and arms, can influence infrastructure decisions across the continent. Coastal states that until recently were split north-south are teaming up under a shared appreciation of their dynamic outward-looking approach. Italy has reportedly invited the Netherlands to ‘push’ it into deregulating its economy on a mutual job creation drive. The Netherlands has encouraged Italy’s highly-educated population to move northwards. Spain has hinted that Dutch farmers might relocate southwards. France and the UK are making available their finance hubs. The Baltics their technology.  These coastal states are, moreover, trying to offer a pontoon to Central and Eastern Europe, connecting it to the Atlantic seaboard. Britain, for instance, has already reached out to Nordic and Baltic states through the UK-led Joint Expeditionary Force, and there are discussions about bringing it to Poland and Ukraine. Germany, previously the superconnector at the heart of Europe, is allowing itself to be bypassed.A new sandbox for the sea powersImportantly, countries like Denmark or the Netherlands never viewed the EU in terms of state-building, as in Berlin, where each European crisis is an opportunity for deepening integration and ratcheting the EU forward towards federalisation. They treat it as a kind of sandbox or plug-in: the EU is a means of reinventing order in Europe, responding to big geopolitical shifts with a handy toolbox of markets and inventive governance.   Today the big geopolitical task is to protect states threatened by the rise of the PRC, and ensure mutual access to critical resources and investment capital. Many of those threatened are seaboard states in the Indo-Pacific. The EU has its role to play, and if it were true to this sandbox spirit, it would today be sacrificing sacred cows from the 1990s and raiding old EU projects like the Eurozone to combine cheap and reliable energy, foundational technology, pockets of investment capital and access to the best minds.  But if a German-led EU is not prepared to revive this inventive spirit and pick and mix across old projects – mixing the Capital Markets Union with Green industry and so on – these seaboard countries will use their own shared attributes to turn Europe inside-out.

Attention will now turn to scrutinizing how Ukraine deploys the US weapons.  On 7 July, days before the NATO summit in Vilnius, the US announced that it would supply Ukraine with cluster munitions – until it can ramp up production of other types of ammunition. It is a controversial decision which is at odds with the views of NATO allies that have foresworn the possession and use of the weapons under the 2008 Convention on Cluster Munitions. The Biden administration said it had received assurances from Ukraine that the munitions will not be used in areas populated by civilians, that Ukraine will keep records and maps of where they are used, and that it will conduct a post-war clean-up. However, there are significant humanitarian concerns with the use of cluster bombs, and the US–Ukraine decision sends the wrong message to the wider world – particularly to states that are not yet parties to the 2008 Convention. Humanitarian concernsEach cluster bomb can scatter tens or hundreds of explosive submunitions over a wide area. The submunitions frequently do not explode on delivery – this is called the failure rate – and are left in the environment, often sinking into soft ground or water. In recent conflicts, failure rates remain stubbornly high, estimated to range from 10%-40% – despite being much lower in the testing phase. The long-term implications of failed submunitions have been similar to – in some cases worse than – the long-term use of anti-personnel landmines. Munitions surface years or even decades after use, often picked up by children who mistake them for soda cans or toys and are maimed or killed when they explode. Whether the munitions have been fired by an enemy or by their own side, the effect is the same. The use of the weapons also risks breaking international humanitarian law, namely the principle of distinction (the need in an armed conflict to distinguish between combatants and civilians; and between military and civilian objectives). Concerns also relate to breaching the principle of proportionality, and the rule against indiscriminate attacks. The 2008 Convention on Cluster Munitions (CCM)The CCM is an important piece of international law intended to prohibit the use of cluster munitions in line with these principles of international humanitarian law, placing the long-term needs of civilians at the heart of security decision-making. To date, the CCM has 111 states parties, and 12 signatories. It prohibits the use, production, transfer, and stockpiling of cluster munitions. It requires countries that have joined the convention to destroy their stockpiles of the weapons, clear areas contaminated with unexploded submunitions, and provide assistance to victims. The US, Ukraine and Russia have not yet signed up to the convention. Neither has China or India. But most European states have joined the treaty, including NATO members such as the UK, Germany and France. The convention drew upon experience from the Mine Ban Treaty of 1997 which prohibited the use, stockpiling, production and transfer of anti-personnel mines. Following the treaty, deminers reported the equally large problem of other unexploded ordnance including cluster munitions. This empirical evidence, along with medical evidence from countries inundated with cluster munitions such as Cambodia, Kosovo, Iraq, Chechnya, Eritrea, Ethiopia and Afghanistan, led to discussions in the Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons and then to a stand-alone process that negotiated the Convention on Cluster Munitions.  Indeed, the conclusion of the Convention on Cluster Munitions and its support by so many countries had until now created an important pause in the use of cluster munitions by some non-states parties, including the US – showing the weight of international condemnation of the weapons. (This has not been true for countries such as Russia which has used them with devastating effect against civilians in Ukraine). Cluster munitions are already being used in UkraineRussia has been using cluster munitions throughout its illegal war against Ukraine, along with landmines and thermobaric/vacuum weapons. It has also threatened the use of nuclear weapons. Ukraine has also used its own ex-Soviet stockpile of cluster bombs.   But up until now no NATO country has supplied Ukraine with cluster bombs – reports that Turkey had done so have been denied by both Turkey and Ukraine.Supporters of the US decision point out that the number of unexploded US cluster munitions will be far smaller than the equivalent number of unexploded Russian munitions and landmines already in Ukraine. They also argue that the numbers of Ukrainian civilians killed might well be far higher if Ukraine fails to pursue its counteroffensive, and that Ukraine could even lose the war if not supplied with adequate ammunition. Adhering to the rules of warRussia’s invasions of Ukraine in 2014 and in 2022 were illegal. Subsequent threats to use nuclear weapons, and the continuing situation over the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant, have been reckless in the extreme. Russia’s actions reflect the fact that the war is not only about the integrity and sovereignty of Ukraine – although that is of course central. It is also about values, and the adherence to the rule of law. How a state conducts itself during a war is important. Irrespective of the aggression by Russia, and regardless of who has joined the Convention on Cluster Munitions, the rules of international humanitarian law must be respected by all parties to the armed conflict. These rules are designed to balance military necessity with humanitarian purpose – they seek to protect civilians and diminish unnecessary suffering. Ukraine is fighting not just for its territory but for the international rule of law; its own conduct of hostilities must comply with the rules of war.   Attention will now need to turn to scrutinizing how Ukraine deploys the US weapons and whether it can live up to its assurances on how they will be used, including preventing their deployment in or near civilian populated areas. States that are party to the CCM should continue to uphold it. The UK and other treaty members have invested significant diplomatic power to encourage other states to accede to the CCM and they should continue these efforts. The US move sends a poor message, but the fundamental importance and value of the CCM treaty remains.

Keeping rules-based cooperation afloat on a war-torn continent  SUMMARYThe NATO summit in Vilnius taking place from 11 to 12 July 2023 marks another step towards deepening the relationship between Ukraine and the collective West. When paired with the EU’s reinvigorated enlargement process, there is a growing tendency to assume that Washington and Brussels can – or even must – set the terms of the European security order without input from Moscow. However, in a world of ‘mega-regions’ and competing visions of international order, cooperative security remains relevant if the EU wishes to salvage some degree of rules-based order in the space that connects Europe with Eurasia. As first steps in this direction, the EU should work to keep the OSCE operational, launch a limited dialogue with Belarus on arms control, and envision a future for the European Political Community that someday includes Russia. Two highly controversial issues are at the core of our assessment – the amendments to Article 66a concerning future electricity price crises and the resort to inframarginal revenue caps1. The significance of the imagery was unmistakable. In late March earlier this year, Chinese President Xi Jinping visited his counterpart Vladimir Putin in Moscow, at the same time as Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida visited President Volodymyr Zelensky in Kyiv. Although lying at near-opposite ends of the Eurasian supercontinent, the leaders of Asia’s two largest economies visiting the belligerents of a European conflict served to illustrate just how integrated the security dynamics of the two theatres had become. Yet it was the Chinese leader, whose country had been the victim of Japanese imperialism in the twentieth century, who was showing off his strategic partnership with a country that had just a year earlier committed an act of unprovoked aggression against its neighbour, while Japan’s head of government demonstrated solidarity with the victim. That Beijing has doubled down on its entente with Moscow, despite the latter’s egregious violation of international law and norms, all in the name of anti-hegemonism, reveals the complex and shifting patterns of international order in today’s world. The increasing integration of the pan-Eurasian security space, when combined with a nuanced understanding of the contemporary (and mixed) foundations of the international order, reveals the extent to which Europe’s own security order will depend not only on the EU’s ability to demonstrate its own resilience, but also its ability to develop new tools and approaches that allow it to reach beyond its own normative orbit and into a more normatively diverse ‘Eurasian’ space. Contrary to the notion that Russia is ‘leaving’ Europe, only by conceiving of the European-Eurasian space from Lisbon to Vladivostok as a single, pan-European security system will the EU be able to manage the normative contestation and political diversity that characterise continental affairs. TWO MAJOR TRENDS The return of great power competition has come with tangible consequences on several policy fronts such as trade rules, supply chains, technological restrictions, access to critical minerals, and the future shape of globalisation more broadly. Its impact has also been felt domestically, with states both democratic and authoritarian attempting to shape the information space and contending with rising nationalist sentiment. But when one looks at the macro-level, two broad trends emerge – one geopolitical and one normative. GEOPOLITICS: THE RISE OF MEGA-REGIONSThe geopolitical trend – traditionally defined as lying at the intersection of power politics and geography – is the formation of ‘mega-regions’ in the Eastern Hemisphere – continental Eurasia and the maritime Indo-Pacific. While these spaces are too vast and diverse to constitute identifiable ‘regions’ in the usual sense of the term, their discursive appeal allows them to shape strategic debates irrespective of how integrated they are in economic or societal terms. Unlike the consolidation of the Western Hemisphere under a single hegemon, these mega-regions are polycentric, suggesting a complicated landscape to navigate. The IndoPacific theatre is characterised by a worsening Sino-American standoff, but also the persistence of varying degrees of non-alignment from important actors, such as India and ASEAN. The mega-region’s strategic importance to the EU flows not only from the sizeable proportion of trade that passes through the Indo-Pacific, but also the fact that EU Member States are facing the pressures of their growing security dependence on the United States, even as Washington’s focus has been clearly pivoting towards Asia for the last several years. The Eurasian theatre links Europe to Asia through growing trade links and connectivity, but also through strategic interactions, such as the Sino-Russian entente and Turkey’s links with Central Asia. Although China is already very much present in Europe in terms of technology, trade links and port ownership, questions surrounding a ceasefire and the reconstruction of Ukraine may also foretell a growing profile for Beijing in shaping Europe’s future security order. Although much will depend on the degree of US and EU acquiescence, China’s role may be limited to delineated financial contributions to the rebuilding of post-war Ukraine, or it may go so far as to include a direct role in keeping the guns silent. The latter, for example, could include a Chinese promise to exercise its influence over the Kremlin to forestall a reinvasion of Ukraine, in exchange for a Western commitment to dissuade Kyiv from retaking its lost territories militarily. Given Russia’s growing dependence on China, European security now appears indelibly imbued with Eurasian – and not just transatlantic or Euro-Atlantic – characteristics. On top of shared challenges and geographic phenomena, such as climate change and the opening up of Arctic maritime routes, political developments over the past several years have helped to weave the European and Asian strategic theatres increasingly into an interconnected security complex. Worsening relations between Russia and the West following the 2013-14 Euromaidan revolution accelerated Moscow’s already-declared ‘pivot to the East’, while its 2022 invasion of Ukraine has ensured that this pivot takes the form of growing dependence on China after Japan and South Korea imposed economic sanctions. China has therefore become an influential player in European security through its (theoretical) ability to influence strategic thinking in the Kremlin about the war’s endgame and contribute to Ukraine’s reconstruction once new security guarantees have been agreed. China’s growing maritime muscle also impacts EU interests not just on matters of trade but also in the realm of international law by calling into question the future shape of the global commons.An additional factor unifying the two theatres has been the European (and American) prioritisation of the Indo-Pacific, with the EU releasing its Indo-Pacific strategy five months prior to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. This provided the political foundations for the EU to continue to place importance on enhancing its profile in the Indo-Pacific, even as war raged closer to home. And although many in Europe reject the binary ‘democracy vs. autocracy’ frame emphasised by the Biden administration, the proliferation of this rhetoric in Western decision-making circles since the war’s start has provided momentum for transatlantic allies to double down on their two-theatre focus.  NORMS: W(H)ITHER INTERNATIONAL ORDER?The normative trend concerns the increasing ability to distinguish between the different layers of international order that the EU inhabits. Debates on international order have often focused on the evolving distribution of power, with various analysts asserting that the world remains largely unipolar, is collapsing into bipolarity, or persists on its path towards multipolarity. But there remains the question of how to characterise terms such as the ‘liberal international order’ (LIO) or ‘rules-based international order’ (RBIO) within which this polarity operates.  Russia’s incursions into Ukraine in 2014 and Syria in 2015, followed by the rise of populism with the Brexit referendum and the election of Donald Trump in 2016, called the future of the LIO into question. This raised more fundamental questions over its actual breadth and reach – whether it was largely consigned to the West or truly global in scope, whether its focus was primarily on upholding multilateralism or whether it also had values-based components, and so on.  Given the nature of these events, it became evident that Western ‘leadership’ in setting the terms of the international order was a core component of the LIO as a concept. Russian actions in 2014-15 frontally challenged the notion that Washington and Brussels could unilaterally shape the norms of European security and ended the West’s post-Cold War monopoly on military interventions in the wider Middle East. Similarly, populism’s rise not only threatened the ideological hegemony of liberalism in Western societies, but also raised questions about whether the Anglo-American powers which have been preeminent for three centuries would remain invested in upholding an order they played a major role in creating. A definition of the LIO that incorporates all elements – proliferating institutions, liberal values, open trade, Western leadership, and transformative ambitions on a global scale – would reveal that the attempt to create a global LIO began in the early 1990s and had effectively failed by the time of the financial crisis and subsequent Great Recession of 2007-09. Given the American origins of that recession, the accepted legitimacy of the economic component of Western leadership became contested, eventually paving the way for the erosion of post-Cold War ‘hyper-globalism’. Western political leadership became more strongly contested after the 2011 NATO intervention in Libya, which some saw as exceeding its UN Security Council-issued mandate strictly to protect civilians, presaging Putin’s subsequent return to the Russian presidency in 2012.  Having failed to become synonymous with global order writ large, the LIO today appears largely constrained to the non-geographic West, today emphasising the defence of democracy rather than its spread. The present-day ‘democracy vs. autocracy’ binary expects that the former model will demonstrate its longevity and eventually win uncontested appeal among the rest of the world, which differs from active attempts to export it.  Despite its neutral-sounding description as the universally accepted global order based on the UN system, multilateral institutions and international law, the RBIO can also be difficult to pin down as a concept. In some conceptions, it has existed since 1945 and has relied upon Western leadership to sustain itself, whereas in others it remains something that still needs to be created in newly conceived and discursively contested strategic spaces such the ‘Indo-Pacific’.  For this reason, the RBIO has also been criticised in some corners for being deliberately opaque and labelled as a mere smokescreen for Western hegemony. At a minimum, one can acknowledge the existence of an RBIO based on a global commitment to the peaceful conduct of relations and resolution of disputes, respect for universally agreed canons of international law – including the basic tenets of the UN Charter – or mutually agreedupon processes. Ultimately, what the distinction between the LIO and RBIO reveals is that, in today’s world, order is plural: one should not speak of the international order as much as the existence of differentiated international orders. If one were to draw distinctions between orders across different policy areas, for example, one would see that both the United States and China support certain aspects of the contemporary global order while rejecting others. Neither is entirely a status quo power, but nor does either power hold a purely revisionist agenda.  The EU, for its part, has benefited enormously from a status quo in which a largely unipolar world, combined with a solid American security guarantee, negated the need to wrestle with the idea of fundamental change in the substance of international order. Although it must now debate the extent to which it can (or even should) embrace the ‘language of power’, this helps to explain why the EU – contrary to other leading actors – continues to defend both the LIO and RBIO. This European posture flows not only from the nature of the EU’s internal system and the commitments underpinning EU treaties, but also from the evolving shape of great power competition.  THE INTERSECTION OF NORMS AND GEOPOLITICS – AND ITS IMPLICATIONS FOR EUROPE In the normative realm, we are witnessing a fragmentation of order or, put differently, a ‘de-universalisation’ of norms. Rather than a single overarching global order to which all states pay fealty, an integrated global economy and global institutions provide merely a framework in which states litigate the shape of the international order and contest one another’s (possibly conflicting) normative visions.  By contrast, in the geopolitical realm, we observe the opposite phenomenon. While regional theatres have undoubtedly grown in importance, offering smaller actors a chance to shape international order alongside the great powers, these theatres are increasingly integrating themselves into a common system where actors from different regions figure into one another’s security perceptions. This dual process of simultaneous integration and disintegration raises the question of how to conceptualise the linkages between these megaregions and various orders.  Given the likely involvement of China (and perhaps India) in brokering a ceasefire and contributing to the reconstruction of Ukraine, alongside Japan’s cooperation on Ukraine with its Western partners through the G7, strategic calculations among the powers of the Indo-Pacific mega-region are having an impact on events in Europe. But in terms of hard security dynamics, the most direct linkage (or lack thereof) affecting the future of the European order lies in the nature of the relationship between the European and Eurasian spaces. Since Putin’s return to the Kremlin and his casting of Russia as a decidedly non-Western and non-liberal country, it has become common to assert that Russia was ‘leaving’ Europe. Given that the political and economic order on the European continent since the Treaty of Maastricht has been based on the centrality of the EU system, with other states pursuing greater or lesser degrees of alignment with EU norms and standards, to challenge those norms openly and blatantly was seemingly to deny one’s Europeanness. Russia’s subsequent ‘Greater Eurasia’ discourse further highlighted the notion that Moscow no longer sought to re-join Europe, as was its initial ambition after the end of the Cold War, but rather to create a new geopolitical space. This Eurasian space was either to be Russian-led, centred on the post-Soviet region and embodied by organisations such as the Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU) and the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO), or would take the form of a broader yet unspecified polycentric pan-Eurasian system from Lisbon to Shanghai with Russia serving as the EastWest bridge at its core. Efforts to bridge the Russian and Brussels-centric visions for continental order through some kind of interstitial linkages between the EU and EAEU floundered, both due to the customs union component of the EAEU and the EU’s effective insistence that Ukraine faced a binary choice between East and West.  But whether one defines Europe in the expansive sense from Lisbon to Vladivostok or not, the collapse of Russia-West relations does not presage the end of the need to conceive of the European and Eurasian regions as a single space. For one, there remain post-Soviet states that desire to build relations with the EU and do not wish to be entirely consigned to the Eurasian Heartland.  Moreover, the ‘pan-Turkic’ element of Turkey’s foreign policy has grown increasingly salient over recent years, offering the prospect of deeper strategic relations between NATO-member Turkey and CSTO-member Kazakhstan. Even when it comes to two adversarial military alliances, bridges are not entirely absent. Turkey and Serbia, in addition to the states of the South Caucasus, stand out as wanting to maintain relations with both Russia and the West.  Yet while the European and Eurasian security spaces are geographically adjacent, forging a conception of a single space between them is rendered more difficult when one considers the LIO-RBIO reference frame. Viewed through this lens, the EU and Russia come across as polar opposites, even in relative terms.  The United States remains, at least for now, committed to a revised version of an LIO centred on the promotion of liberal norms, the preservation of US primacy in the global order, and the maintenance of US leadership within the Western alliance structure. However, when it comes to the RBIO, Washington’s numerous post-Cold War transgressions of international rules and its selective application of normative discourses suggests that an attitude of ‘rules for thee but not for me’ continues to operate to some degree even under Democratic administrations.  China, for its part, is to a degree the mirror image of the US: Beijing rejects the hegemonism and liberal values that underpin the LIO but remains invested in multilateralism and open markets, even if its adherence to the rules has also been selective, such as in its efforts to create ‘facts on the ground’ in the South China Sea.  When it comes to the EU and Russia, the division is even more stark. The EU remains the world’s leading power committed to both the LIO and the RBIO; Russia decidedly rejects the LIO and, since its 2022 invasion of Ukraine, has run roughshod over internationally agreed rules and norms as well.  THE EU AT THE CROSSROADS OF EUROPE AND EURASIA The EU is being tested by rising geopolitical tensions in its neighbourhood, which bring ever more assertive challenges against the RBIO. By design, Brussels comes with inbuilt disadvantages in this contest.  In foreign and security policy, the EU is a peculiar beast. Common action still depends on unanimity among Member States, which cautiously limits the EU’s room for manoeuvre. Support for the Ukrainian army is a textbook example of this phenomenon. We have observed common steps to supply Kyiv with weapons through the European Peace Facility. But we have also seen Member States from across the continent emphasise their own priorities – sometimes coordinated, sometimes rather uncoordinated – such as debates over the provenance of military procurement schemes.  As a result, the sum of the EU’s parts occasionally seems to be smaller than all of them combined. The EU decision-making patchwork can at times be accelerated by crises, but under normal circumstances it is a rather time-consuming procedure. And if the war in Ukraine becomes the new normal and the hottest phase of hostilities comes to resemble mere embers, the crisis-like atmosphere often needed for bold decision-making may eventually fade away.  Moreover, although the EU’s dual commitment to the LIO and RBIO forms a core element of both its internal functioning and its international engagement, in recent years there have been some cracks in this picture, most notably when it comes to the domestic political record of Member States such as Poland or Hungary. The apparent hypocrisy or double standard contributes to the erosion of the LIO’s global appeal, while challenging the EU’s ability to advance its particular interpretation of the RBIO.  The EU and its Member States find themselves today confronted with a geopolitical and normative challenge in their neighbourhood. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has led to a rapid disintegration of the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) space into different grades of contestation. This brash disregard for previously agreed rules and principles, when coupled with the erosion of several arms control agreements meant to enhance confidence and predictability in the wider Euro-Atlantic security space, has challenged the very notion that a European security architecture still exists.  The repercussions of the war have led to a strengthening of NATO and a diminished Russian ability to order parts of its ‘near abroad’, prompting other actors to step in, such as Turkey in the Caucasus or China in Central Asia. Trade in the Eurasian space – between the EU and China – has also become more cumbersome by taking the huge landmass of Russia out of the equation and forcing a recalibration of trade routes. Thus, for the EU, the dynamic of integrating geopolitical theatres in Eurasia and the IndoPacific has posed three questions.  First, does the EU have a toolbox for its immediate neighbourhood suitable for managing the geopolitical and normative conflicts inherent to today’s multipolar world? Enlargement and integration offers still rely on the logic of countries adhering to European rules, as they are supposedly driven by their own interest to gain access to this attractive bloc. Therefore, the logic goes, they are likely willing to undergo a tedious scrutiny process and give up substantial parts of the exercise of their sovereignty.  The EU’s enlargement agenda undoubtedly presents the most developed form of normative power projection and has recently garnered new momentum in Ukraine, Moldova and the Western Balkans. These latest developments, coupled with Ukraine’s de facto integration into the Western political and security community, demonstrate the extent to which Russia’s normative proposition has largely failed, even in its historical sphere of geopolitical and cultural influence.  Nonetheless, China’s likely growing influence in European affairs, Russia’s continued determination (and, for now, ability) to wage war, and the normative pluralism inherent to Eurasia’s penetration of the European space all raise questions over whether the EU’s enlargement agenda alone can fill the chasm left by the collapse of the European security order. It also remains too early to gauge the impact of the EU’s more ‘geopolitical’ (less strictly defined) recent moves, such as collective military assistance to Ukraine and its efforts to reduce its dependence on Russian energy, on its ability to shape the panEuropean security system in line with its preferences. Simply put, the strengthened role of the EU within Europe should not encourage Brussels and Member State capitals to sit on their laurels.  Second, what can the EU offer on a global scale to compete in a normatively pluralistic world and encourage other actors to align with EU goals? To the surprise of many in Europe, major non-Western powers, including many leading democracies, have chosen to stay on the sidelines of the war and are trying to hedge their bets. Those that have chosen to advance peace plans, such as the African ten-point plan and the Indonesian proposal, have tended to emphasise the need for de-escalation over justice. Given the increasing salience of these plans from various corners of the ‘Global South’ for the war in Ukraine, this question is important not only for the EU’s global standing but also for the future of the European security order. Universal norms – such as those of the UN Charter, later developed and enshrined in OSCE documents – are being increasingly challenged in the European-Eurasian security space. And while recent events may have given the EU’s norm-setting ability in Europe a boost, the extent to which it can fully see its vision through in the absence of global support remains uncertain. While much of the continent may become more tightly integrated, these developments threaten to render the core principles of the wider regional security order aspirational at best, not unlike the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Third, how autonomously from the US can the EU act? The war has highlighted once again European security dependence on the US. That brings with it implicit, and sometimes explicit, expectations on the US side for a more assertive European stance towards China along the lines of US policy. The EU’s ability to deal with Eurasia and the Indo-Pacific differently, and thus handle the challenges of Russia and China separately as some Member States would prefer, now runs into a US-backed integration dynamic of the European, Eurasian and Indo-Pacific spaces. Thus, the Eurasian theatre seems to have become a key laboratory for the new order of competing concepts, overlapping integration spaces and unclear mechanisms of how to deal with the inevitable tensions between antagonistic claims.  THREE RECOMMENDATIONS  On the normative front, the task of constructing a stable order in a culturally and politically diverse world is unlikely to be achieved through a renewed commitment to the LIO, given its hegemonic and ideological foundations. And on a continental scale, while the LIO model may provide the political conditionally necessary to expand the EU’s sphere of influence, the lesson of the post-Cold War era is that this sphere will not be able to encompass Russia fully.  The EU’s approach today has rather become premised on confronting Russia’s normative model, in place of integrating Russia into some kind of common pan-European space. In fact, although there is no current strategy for how to deal with a post-Putin Russia, it is difficult to imagine the country finding a place in either NATO or the EU, even if it eventually pivots back towards the West and becomes relatively more open and democratic.  Geographically, in the Indo-Pacific, the structural constraint of the US-China relationship will significantly shape the EU’s room for manoeuvre for the foreseeable future. Yet the situation in the European-Eurasian theatre is potentially more volatile. Although the transatlantic alliance’s structure of US leadership has once again become apparent over the course of the war, much can change if a new US president comes to office. Moreover, a European continent featuring a reinforced NATO and an increasingly nationalist and revanchist Russia risks becoming a recipe for another conflict not long after the dust settles on the current phase of hostilities in Ukraine. Simply put, waiting – potentially for decades – for Russia to transform itself before embarking on the task of salvaging what remains of the RBIO connecting Europe and Eurasia is not an option. While relations will not be repaired overnight and the conditions do not presently exist to reaffirm (or reconstitute) the core principles underpinning the continental order, the EU can take three relatively immediate steps to prevent worst-case scenarios from materialising.  First, the OSCE, which brings together 57 participating countries, is in danger of entering 2024 without a chair or a budget. The EU would be poorly positioned to advocate credibly for a strengthened global RBIO if Europe itself becomes a rare continent without an inclusive and pan-regional functioning RBIO of its own.  The collapse of the OSCE would not only eliminate the last major regional institution bringing Russia and the rest of Europe together, but would also put Central Asian countries in a more difficult position, removing from them a forum in which they can navigate between the European and Eurasian spaces.  If Estonia’s chairmanship is unable to proceed, EU Member States should be prepared to rally behind a compromise candidate which boasts links to both Europe and Eurasia. Kazakhstan presents a natural choice, offering the EU a chance to build on its recently activated strategic partnership with Astana. In consultation with Ottawa and Washington, they should also agree to commit emergency funding to keep the body afloat if necessary and consider institutionalising money for the OSCE budget in the next Multi-Annual Financial Framework. Although Member States already contribute more than two-thirds of the organisation’s main budget, such a move would demonstrate the EU’s collective commitment to upholding a continental RBIO that spans beyond its own borders – a necessity given the now-unavoidable intersection between the European space and the pluralistic Eurasian mega-region. Russia’s initial post-Cold War dream of a pan-European security order centred on the OSCE has been dashed. Instead, the body’s activities have increasingly centred on its humanitarian ‘basket’, focusing in large part on post-Soviet states. As NATO and the EU expanded to include Central Europe, Moscow became increasingly convinced that the OSCE had become a second-tier institution for supposedly second-rate countries, giving it an incentive to impede its functioning rather than strengthen its capacities.  Still, it is precisely because of the pluralistic nature of the Eurasian mega-region and the EU’s own need to navigate it through the framework of rules that Brussels should remain invested in the OSCE’s survival, however imperfect the institution may become. Recent European Council conclusions have laudably articulated the EU’s continued commitment to the OSCE, but there has yet to be an explicit recognition that to survive as a body where states can manage crises and discuss security challenges on the continent, the organisation’s de facto focus may need to narrow, even if its more wide-ranging activities do not completely hollow themselves out.  In short, an OSCE that resembles the leaner Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE) of preceding decades is better than no OSCE at all. The OSCE’s more ambitious policy agenda is partly a product of the era of a Westernising Russia – an era which has decidedly passed. To remain resilient, international institutions must adjust to changing circumstances. And in any event, there remain ample other formats through which EU Member States can pursue their normative agenda.  Second, the pan-European arms control architecture is now in tatters following the American and Russian withdrawals from the Open Skies Treaty, the demise of the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) Treaty, Russia’s suspension of its participation in New START, and its formal withdrawal from the Conventional Armed Forces in Europe (CFE) Treaty. These regimes will not be resurrected overnight. However, in an attempt to demonstrate a remaining semblance of independence from the Kremlin, Belarus has remained active in the surviving regimes and will likely retain its membership in the CFE Treaty. The EU’s position on the political legitimacy of Alexander Lukashenko aside, Minsk’s continued participation in arms control, combined with the delivery of Russian tactical nuclear weapons to Belarus, creates a plausible case for certain European officials, beginning at the Member State level, to enter into a dialogue with Minsk as a matter of continental security – even if only quietly at first. This dialogue could serve as a basis for incubating ideas on the extent to which a future continental arms control architecture should be based on existing or new mechanisms. With time, Member States could designate individuals at the European External Action Service to take this process forward if it begins to show signs of progress, ensuring that the perspectives exchanged reflect the security interests of the EU27 as a whole.  Given the degree of closeness between Minsk and Moscow, the ideas discussed could eventually filter into the Russian elite as well, thereby preserving a backchannel through which momentum for renewed arms control can be built, as well as attenuating the lack of information and confirmation bias which currently exacerbate the Russia-West security dilemma. It is worth remembering that while Russia has withdrawn from several arms control regimes as its relations with the West have deteriorated, Moscow has not rejected the usefulness of arms control in principle. Belarus would relish the opportunity undertake such a dialogue and minimally restore the East-West bridge status that it held until the 2020 protests. Russia, for its part, would have little to fear, given the current extent of Belarusian dependence on the Kremlin and the fact that EU political recognition of Lukashenko would not necessarily be forthcoming.  Finally, while the purpose of the newly formed European Political Community (EPC) is ostensibly to build a platform for pan-European cooperation without Russia, at this point it remains unclear the extent to which such a rationale for its existence will continue to be manifest once the hottest phase of the war has passed. Once the structure and focus of the body have been further consolidated, however, EPC leaders should hold discussions on a possible timeline and conditions under which Russia could be admitted as a participant. This could occur at an EPC summit in a non-EU and non-NATO country such as Serbia or Switzerland in 2025 – timed to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of the Helsinki Final Act. While consensus among all participating states may not be reached, the mere act of deliberating this topic could spawn certain ideas which may eventually prove worthwhile and/or achievable. CONCLUSIONS The moves outlined above will not succeed where all parties over the past three decades have failed – namely in creating a pan-European security order which Moscow has a stake in upholding rather than undermining. However, they offer to preserve or create platforms and avenues for policy cooperation or dialogue which can bolster the idea of a continental RBIO. They also offer the EU an opportunity to act autonomously in the pursuit of collective goals, to develop a wider-ranging toolbox for addressing security challenges in its neighbourhood, and to strengthen its image around the world as an actor committed to inclusive, rules-based security-building.  With all of Europe west of Russia (except for Belarus) now in some kind of integration process with the EU, it is certainly tempting to reinforce the Brussels-centric character of the continent’s normative order – as seen in discussions over how to strengthen the credibility of the enlargement agenda for Ukraine, Moldova and the Western Balkans, and how the nascent EPC might complement this process.  This, however, is but one side of the policy coin that EU leaders must consider. The West and Russia may not operate a shared security system in Europe, but this does not obviate the need to consider the integrated nature of security dynamics in the pan-European space. In a world of mega-regions, Europe will remain intertwined with Eurasia irrespective of the degree to which agreed-upon norms can be operationalised. The question is whether the connections between these two spaces will preserve a modicum of orderliness. At the global level, the LIO’s expansion has been halted and the RBIO is in transition, even as it demonstrates elements of flexibility and resilience. But at the juncture of Europe and Eurasia, both the LIO and RBIO’s futures are profoundly uncertain. In both the short and the long term, the EU cannot afford to ignore this challenge.  

Since GLOBSEC opened its doors in 2008, many political leaders and officials have spoken at the Bratislava Forum, but unless I am mistaken, no French President. That was no doubt an anomaly. And it would be even more of an anomaly today, in the context of Russia’s war against neighbouring Ukraine when, quite simply, the future of our continent is at stake, and with much playing out in this region. This is particularly true at the cusp of a month that sums up the magnitude of our strategic challenges, with the European Political Community Summit in Chișinău tomorrow, then an important European Council meeting for the future of our Union in June, and last the NATO Summit in Vilnius. Before these milestones, I think it is worth explaining my thinking, with great freedom in the tone, when it comes to the moment which Europe is living on the geopolitical stage. Almost 20 years ago, our Union opened its gates to Slovakia and other countries freed from the Soviet grip. That was not merely an enlargement of our Union: it was the return to our family of those from whom we had been separated for too long. I do not believe there is a “Western” Europe and an “Eastern” Europe, an “old” Europe and a “new” Europe. That would mean perpetuating the artificial border imposed for decades by the Soviet Union. There is only one Europe. A single weave of intertwined histories and diversity, but with the will for geographical and geopolitical unity and to build, ultimately, a common narrative. I believe that is what unites us all behind this project, that does not erase our national identities and national projects, but rather enables us to conjugate them in an overarching narrative. Let us remember the last words of the director of the Hungarian press agency, just minutes before he was crushed by Russian artillery in November 1956: “We will die for Hungary and Europe”. The curtain was falling across our continent, and it was already our unity that was at stake. It announced decades of forced separation, decades of a “kidnapped West”, to borrow the excellent words of Milan Kundera that we can make our own today. And I would like to add, as I speak to those who are here today, that even after Slovakia and many other countries joined the Union, we did not always hear the voices you brought, calling for recognition of your painful memories and history. Some told you then that you were missing opportunities to keep quiet – but I believe we sometimes missed opportunities to listen. That time is over, and today, these voices must be all our voices. So my message is simple. In the times we are living in, we must not let the West be kidnapped a second time. We will not let Europe be kidnapped a second time. The challenges we face are considerable, with war at our borders. The war of aggression against Ukraine isultimately an extreme manifestation of a challenge to our European unity that has played out in the last fifteen years, and a show of fragility. Fifteen years of Russian attempts to overturn the whole European security architecture, to reshape it in its own terms. We all know the milestones: Vladimir Putin’s speech in Munich in 2007, the aggression against Georgia in 2008, that against Ukraine in 2014, and again against Ukraine in 2022, and the rampant transformation of Belarus into a vassal state. Ultimately, what Russia demands, and what it sought to codify in the draft treaties it brandished on the eve of its invasion just over a year ago, is the weakening and neutralization of Ukraine and, ultimately, for a whole part of Europe to be made vulnerable in return for minor and largely unverifiable commitments. In this context, it is true, we failed to provide a European response, or to organize an architecture to protect ourselves, via the OSCE or the other projects envisaged at the time, against these attacks. As for NATO’s response, it was too much or too little: perspectives offered to Ukraine and Georgia, exposing the two countries to Russia’s wrath, but which did not protect them, and which came with guarantees that were far too feeble. And we lacked coherence as Europeans. So we provided insufficient guarantees to certain countries at our borders. We did not engage with Russia in a security dialogue for ourselves. Ultimately, we delegated this dialogue to NATO, which was probably not the best means to succeed. And at the same time, we did not break free of dependencies on Russia, particularly for energy, and indeed we even continued to increase them. So we must be clear-sighted about ourselves. We were not coherent in our approach. In coming here, I am aware of the experience many of you had during the Soviet period, and I know why everyone is determined, for good reasons, to ensure that does not happen again. That is my commitment too. Every country has the right to choose its alliances, and opting for freedom, democracy and transparency is never a threat to one’s neighbours. And as I saw powerfully, with the major G7 partners in Japan a few days ago, the foundation of the Charter of the United Nations remains sovereign equality: it has never been limited sovereignty. And it is in this respect too that what is happening in Ukraine today is not merely a European issue, but an issue for the international order and global peace. What the war in Ukraine shows is not merely that these attempts to subjugate part of Europe are illegal and unacceptable, but also that, in the harsh light of power balances, they are now unrealistic. In Kyiv, in Kharkiv and in Kherson, whole Russian armies have retreated, before being squandered in Bakhmut and elsewhere for the slightest of gains. The war is far from over, but I believe I can say today that one thing is clear: Ukraine will not be conquered. And now what was, a little over a years ago, a “special operation”, has led to date to a geopolitical failure and to the accession of Finland and soon, I hope, Sweden, to NATO. And so a closure of Russia’s access to the Baltic, and also heightened distrust among all neighbours, as well as a loss of standing for Russia in the concert of nations due to failure to respect the Charter. The situation on the ground gives Russia no credibility to seek by threat what already no right could justify. There is no place in Europe for imperial fantasies. It is very important to recognize that, and that is a precondition, in my eyes, for any future organization of peace. How we got here says several things about us. We must remember them as we seek to build the future. The first is the strength of our alliance: from the very first days of the fighting, NATO ensured the security of its borders most effectively. Article V played its full role, and I am convinced it holds Russia at bay, and in this respect we owe gratitude to our American allies who have provided a major share of material and intelligence support to Ukraine. In December 2019, I made a severe comment about NATO, highlighting the divisions that, at the time, as you will recall, were present within it between Turkey and several other powers, describing it as “brain dead”. I dare say today that Vladimir Putin has jolted it back with the worst of electroshock. The second thing that strikes me is the exemplary role of the European Union, too. We have been united, swift and clear and I believe that very few, starting with Russia, expected the European Union to respond in such a way: €67 billion in total, including €14 billion in military aid, sanctions and emergency assistance, as well as taking in millions of refugees. We completely and profoundly reorganized our energy system, which was highly dependent on Russia, in just a few months. And that was a demonstration of unity and strategic clarification. It happened under constraint, and should have been done sooner, but we must be satisfied. I also welcome the adoption of a clear doctrine. Europe has chosen strategic autonomy and European sovereignty. And the Versailles Agenda that we defined in March 2022 is ultimately a long way from what people described five years ago as a French whim when I talked of European sovereignty at the Sorbonne. So I believe the second thing that we should take away from recent months, in addition to the strength of the alliance, is the unity and the ideological clarification of our European Union, and its clarity in terms of military, humanitarian and economic support to Ukraine. France has played its full role in this respect, and I can discuss this further during question time. I will also come back to the subject in the coming weeks and months. However, this collective effort will be for nothing if it is not sustained. Looking forward now, in light of what I just said, and of analysis of the past and the situation in recent months, I would like to imagine our future. Moscow must certainly be very tempted to hope that, where its armies have failed, time will come to the rescue, perhaps when elections are held or as public opinion fatigues. I think we need to be very clear about what we have to do in the short and medium terms. Today, we need to help Ukraine, by every means, to conduct an effective counteroffensive. That is essential. That is what we are doing, and we need to step up our efforts, as what is at stake in the coming months is the very possibility of chosen and therefore lasting peace. The second thing is that we need to be very clear about what we call peace. Peace in Ukraine and on our continent cannot mean a ceasefire that enshrines the current situation, re-creating a frozen conflict and, if you will, accepting the seizure of territory in violation of all the principles of international law. Because ultimately, such a frozen conflict would definitely be the war of tomorrow or the day after, and would weaken us all. Only one peace is possible: a peace that respects international law and is chosen by the victims of the aggression: the Ukrainian people. That is a peace that can last and that therefore respects these balances, bolstered by, and I will come back to this, credible guarantees. And so we need to prepare very clear-sightedly for this conflict and I will come back to this, credible guarantees. And so we need to prepare very clear-sightedly for this conflict to last, and for the consequences of the conflict to last. I hope the coming months will enable us, following a victorious counteroffensive, to bring everybody back to the negotiating table and build lasting peace, under the conditions I just set out, chosen by Ukraine and in accordance with international law. But we will have years and years of reconstruction and a humanitarian situation to manage, as we know already. We must also, to be credible in Russia’s eyes, put ourselves in a position, ourselves and our public opinions, to support Ukraine longer-term in a high- and medium-intensity conflict. That means working with all our partners to review and re-analyse this summer the very nature of our support and what is needed to achieve the result I have described. At the same time, we need to convince the global South, because there is, in the context I have discussed, a fragility that we must be clear about. It is that today, while thanks to the engagement of Japan and a few others, this is not simply a Western war, many emerging powers consider that it is not their war. Even if they recognize that it is an aggression and contrary to the Charter of the United Nations, they barely murmur it, because they consider that their main problems are fighting poverty within their borders, that they are subject to enough constraints already, that there are double standards, that their own security is not addressed, that they are facing the consequences of this war head-on, and that when their own security was threatened, we did not respond with the same vigour. We must heed that message. Otherwise, the risk is that all these countries will be seized upon by others to build an alternative international order and become, by choice, clear-sightedly or in fact, by composition, objective allies of a sort of Russian way. And so we must absolutely, as we make efforts to support the preparation of lasting peace, do this work to convince the countries of the South and several emerging countries, and thus re-engage in the assistance that we have a duty to provide them in the clarification of our agenda. Now that I have said all that, let us look at our future. The question we face is ultimately what future is possible for our Europe, in the long term, and how our Europe can rebuild lasting stability, peace and security for itself. We have responded very well in the short term, thanks to the commitment of States. NATO has shown its credibility on its Eastern Flank, and the European Union through its efforts. But is that enough in the long term? Today, we should be pleased to have an American Administration that has stood with us, that has made as many efforts as the Europeans, and that very clearly increases our collective credibility. We should be grateful and thankful to the United States of America. Will that Administration always be the same? Nobody can tell, and we cannot delegate our collective security and our stability to the choices of American voters in the coming years. At the same time, the Americans have been asking us for years, each successive Administration, to better share the burden and to make greater efforts for our security and our neighbourhood. And so yes, a Europe of Defence, a European pillar within NATO, is essential. That is the only way to be credible for ourselves, to be credible in the long term, to reduce our dependency and to shoulder our legitimate share of the burden. Because, whether we like it or not, our geography will not change. We will live in the same place, and Russia will remain Russia, with the same borders and the same geography. We need to build a space that, tomorrow, must be this space of lasting peace, because the rights of the Ukrainian people will have been respected and international law will have been restored. That space must allow us to cohabit as peacefully as possible with Russia – but with no naivety. I repeat, this project is not one of naivety with regard to Russia – I have never had such naivety – but it is aboutbnot denying geography and not considering that we should make our choices as if there was an ocean between Russia and us. And my goal is in no case to try to replace NATO with something else. I want to debunk all these ideas here because I know how they can be repeated and distorted. I do not want to replace NATO with a sort of Franco-German condominium. No. I believe that it is a broad, powerful Europe, with countries like yours, like Poland and many others, that need to play their role in this Europe of Defence, a Europe that increasingly ensures its own security and addresses its own neighbourhood issues. To do so, we now, urgently, need to speed up our strategic choices and the implementation of what we have started to decide. And that agenda is part of what we must build for this common destiny. Firstly, we need to forge a more sovereign European capacity when it comes to energy, technology and military capabilities. That is part of the Versailles Agenda we launched in March 2022. We now need to swiftly, and very tangibly, implement that agenda: meaning we should increasingly build European, buy European and innovate European. When it comes to military capabilities, that also requires a national effort that we have to make. France did not wait for this war. We stepped up our efforts with the military programming law in my first term and we are currently increasing it by €100 billion compared to the previous period, to reach a total of €413 billion under the current draft law. Alongside the prospect of reaching 2% of GDP, we also need to achieve tangible goals, with deployments and real capabilities to ensure the credibility of this collective effort, as France did a few days after Russia’s aggression against Ukraine by deploying forces to Romania. Less than eight days later, we had hundreds of soldiers in Romania. This is about the credibility of a European Defence within NATO. later, we had hundreds of soldiers in Romania. This is about the credibility of a European Defence within NATO. But a sovereign choice is needed, with capabilities, expenditure and deployment mechanisms. This strategic autonomy and military sovereignty also requires an industrial effort. We have clearly understood, in recent months, while emptying our arsenals, that we own with certainty only what we produce. We must learn lessons from this and act accordingly. And when I see certain countries increase their defence spending to massively buy non-European, I simply say: “you are creating yourselves your own problems for the future”. We need to use this opportunity to produce more in Europe. We have been inventive together, creating something new concerning ammunition, a great progress in support of Ukraine. We need to go much further. We need to harmonize our European standards, because there is too much competition between us. There are far more different standards between Europeans than there are within the United States of America. But in doing so, we must develop a genuinely European defence technological and industrial base in all interested countries, and deploy fully sovereign equipment at European level. We need to reduce our dependence and we need to continue building strategic proximity in this collective effort. I have in mind, of course, the European Intervention Initiative we launched five years ago, and that is still every bit as relevant today. Several of you accompanied us in fighting terrorism in Africa, showing that solidarity is two-way, and for that we are grateful. Even if the French presence in Africa is changing, the need to continue to be engaged together remains. And therefore we need to explore possibilities for cooperation in all these spaces and build capacity among Europeans by building on NATO’s interoperability, yet going beyond that, knowing how to engage together common action forces in new theatres of operation in our neighbourhoods, but also in cyber space, in space, in maritime areas, etc. More broadly, as you can see, this first pillar is, ultimately, to strengthen our military sovereignty. This means that we must take a look at the situation in which we live. It is up to us, as Europeans, in the future, to have our own capacity to defend ourselves and to deal with our neighbourhood. And in this regard, let’s not only focus on capabilities to manage past or current wars or to manage conflicts that are simply those that are emerging today. Dealing with our neighbourhood does not concern our Eastern Flank alone. It also concerns the Mediterranean, the Eastern Mediterranean and Southern Mediterranean regions, and new spaces of conflict including cyber space, space and maritime areas. They are at least as important as land wars on our continent that we have seen re-emerge because of Russian aggression and that we thought were disappearing, but that do not dispel the new forms of conflict that will grow in number. Therefore, let us have this strategic lucidity to prepare future conflicts that are bound to happen. In addition to this focus on sovereignty that is therefore European, technological and military, our second challenge is to see to it that Europe becomes a fully-fledged player, instead of being on the receiving end of strategic evolutions in its environment. In these last few years, I have been struck by the fact that we Europeans have not changed our status of geopolitical minority. It’s very hard for a French President to say this so bluntly. This generates irritation and annoyance. But I had the experience of going to a NATO Summit with another US Administration that liked us less, and which, with hardly any notice and in coordinating things with Europeans in a very bureaucratic way, informed us that it was withdrawing from the INF Treaty saying that “the Russians are no longer complying with it”. In 2019, we Europeans discovered a treaty that covered us against missiles that landed on our soil, and that Russian non-compliance and the US decision could leave us exposed and somehow naked, because we were not a party to it. The same thing happened when Russia methodically suspended implementation of the New Start Treaty last February, then clearly violated the NATO-Russia Founding Act in March, etc. I say this very clearly, we Europeans must be active players of these treaties that cover our security and build the future framework. If we delegate our role to others, Russia, the United States or I don’t know who, we will never be credible players. And therefore, yes, we must build these diplomatic solutions for the future.  To do so, we must first fully control arms, which refers back to what I was saying about our industrial lucidity. Europe was absent from treaties such as the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty and the New Start Treaty, despite the fact that its security was at stake. Therefore, it must now weigh in. And it will have much more credibility if it is a player, and not a spectator, in these balances. That is why I called on Europeans to acquire a deep-strike capability, which will bolster our security, and also give us a card to play in all future negotiations. I wish to launch discussions with the European partners that are interested in exploring cooperation in this area. The second, which is related, is air-defence. The war in Ukraine has shown its vital importance. It’s a strategic issue before being an industrial issue , but very clearly, it must build on a balance of offense and defense. It should clearly take nuclear deterrence into account. That is why, as I have pledged in Munich,  a conference will be held on this issue on 19 June in Paris. I invite all defence ministers of the European countries represented here today to attend. It will give us an opportunity to pursue our work. The third, more broadly, is the way in which Europe can secure its environment. We must build these new treaties as fully-fledged players around the table. And in doing so, let us be very clear, the issue of security with our neighbours will be raised. We will undoubtedly discuss this again during question time. But securing our environment is a key component of this credibility and of a Europe with a full role. We should provide Ukraine with solid security guarantees to put an end to repeated destabilizing actions. If Russia wants to continue destabilizing Europe, it must be ready to pay the geopolitical price. I have listened to all of our debates, but we would be strange geopolitical players if we were to say “we are massively arming Ukraine, but we do not want to include it in any strategic security debates.” I was reading something Henry Kissinger said recently, who we all know is not the least experienced diplomat. He was right when he said: In a year, all those who, with good reason, have helped Ukraine, have made it such a powerful player that it would be best to bring it back into these existing security architectures. I tend to share this vision. Therefore, if we want credible lasting peace, if we want to have influence with respect to Russia, and if we want to be credible vis-à-vis Ukrainians, we must give Ukraine the means to prevent any additional aggression and we must include Ukraine, in a structure, in a credible security architecture, including for ourselves. That is why I am in favour – and this will be the subject of collective discussions in the coming weeks ahead of the Vilnius Summit – of providing tangible security guarantees to Ukraine, for two reasons: Ukraine today is protecting Europe and provides security guarantees to Europe. The second reason is that Ukraine is now armed to such a point that it is in our interest for it to have credible security guarantees with us in a multilateral framework, with multilateral support or bilateral support. This is what we will discuss. We must today be much more ambitious than we sometimes are in discussions on this topic. Over the medium term, it is clearly our Europe’s stability and security that we will need to build on the basis of this solid peace in Ukraine, of these security guarantees in our neighbourhood – and tomorrow the question of Belarus and others will be raised – and of a transparent framework of trust making it possible to avoid the escalation of capabilities in the future to exit, at some point, this state of war when peace will be negotiated and stable. Yet we have armed our Eastern Flank so much and Russia has deployed so many arms that we will have to rebuild - I am talking here about the medium term - a framework for de-escalation. But it will be up to Europeans at that time to really build it in a transparent framework in which we must be players of these treaties, we must be around the table in order to negotiate, and around the table in order to determine their effective compliance and their evolution, as opposed to what has been done in the past. That is why, within this framework, we must also think of a wider Europe and I will end my remarks with these points. This Europe is one that I wanted to propose just over a year ago in Strasbourg, that of a European Political Community. Why? Because we need to consider our Europe, not only from a security standpoint, within the framework of NATO, and not simply within the framework of the European Union. That is why the European Political Community does not compete with NATO, nor does it replace enlargement. It is a framework for strategic discussion needed by all countries to build, I hope, an innovative and new institutional architecture, regarding energy and interconnection, mobility, security, strategy, and coming up with common solutions without waiting for enlargement to be completed and without merely taking a NATO-based approach. We will pursue this at Chișinău and we will express our willingness to go as far as possible in this format where cool-headed discussions can be held and topics of common interest can emerge. Among other topics, I will have an opportunity to propose the extension of the European Cyber Reserve to include all EPC countries because it is in our interest to be inclusive in order to safeguard our security. In this regard, the European Political Community is a geopolitical lab, if you will, and we need to continue down this path. But as I have said, it does not replace enlargement. For us, the question is not whether we should enlarge – we answered that question a year ago – nor when we should enlarge – for me, as swiftly as possible – but rather how we should do it. Several of you may remember that France advocated a change in the enlargement method in 2018. However, ultimately the war in Ukraine and today’s worsening situation in several areas of the Western Balkans have shown us one thing, which is that our current method is not working. Yet I believe there are two mistakes we should avoid making. The first is to tell ourselves that the situation is worsening, stay as we are, and give hope to Western Balkans, Ukraine and Moldova, and then procrastinate. We are very familiar with this tactic, we’ve been using it for a long time. If we do this, I think that we would actually give more space to those who want to destabilize Europe and I think that we would wake up in a few years to a situation that is considerably worse. A second mistake would be to say “let’s enlarge, it’s our duty and in our geopolitical interest, I think we need to anchor Moldova, Ukraine and the Western Balkans to our Europe. Let’s do it. We’ll reform later”. This would also be disastrous because it would create a powerless Europe, burdened at times by heavy bureaucratic procedures, slow, and with divergent trajectories. You can clearly see that in Europe there are ultimately two deep forces. They are both respectable. One that says: we need more geopolitical unity, to anchor the Western Balkans, Moldova and Ukraine to this Europe. It needs to be united. It needs to think of itself in this space in terms of security, geopolitics, energy and migration. On the other side, we have had a preview, but we need to coordinate economic policies to a greater extent, have more requirements regarding the rule of law and it creates a somewhat centrality that some States do not always accept. We need to think about this paradox, which is that our European Union was not designed to be enlarged at will. It was designed to always be deepened and to move towards a more integrated project. We need – due to the times in which we are living and the fact that everything is happening at the same time to a certain extent – but that’s how it goes – a very great moment of theoretical and geopolitical clarification of our European Union. Yes, it should be enlarged. Yes, it should be rethought very extensively with regard to its governance and its aims. Yes, it should innovate, undoubtedly to invent several formats and clarify each of their aims. It is the only way to meet the legitimate expectation of the Western Balkans, Moldova and Ukraine, which should become part of the European Union, and to maintain effectiveness in the geopolitical field, but also with regard to the climate, rule of law, and the economic integration the EU is now experiencing. And therefore, we need to re-articulate and rethink the balance of intergovernmental versus communitarian, and also understand what happens in Member States when they no longer understand Europe and the path that it is taking now and for the time being. And we will be working on this with several of our partners in thecoming weeks. I have already spoken too long. Please accept my apologies. These were the points I wanted to discuss. And therefore, as you have understood, our ability to build a just and lasting peace in Ukraine without any weakness is at stake, along with the future of our continent. I truly believe this will happen in the months and the two or three years ahead. Not much more. I believe Europe has experienced a conceptual and strategic awakening. But is must learn all the possible lessons from the past for itself and its neighbourhood. In this context, I think you’ve understood that is why I’m here. You can count on France. France is sometimes seen as being arrogant or faraway from or not interested in this part of Europe. As for me, I visited every EU Member State during my first term in office. Every one, because I considered that the European Union is not just Brussels, but all the capitals. It is this constantly plural dialogue and the absence of hegemony. But you can count on France over the long term. I also know that France can count on you so that we can together build a Europe that is stronger, more sovereign and more capable of ensuring its own security. And this cannot be done with just one, two or three countries. We will do it with all 27 and even more, by including in this strategic debate all those who will join us tomorrow in Chișinău, in this capacity to have frank, open, far-reaching, powerful, ambitious dialogue, by accepting our differences, respecting them and clearly setting out our aims. Ultimately, let us recognize together that our Europe must be a great democratic, diverse, but united power. Thank you very much

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, more than 13 million people have been forcibly displaced from their homes in what the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees called ‘the fastest growing refugee crisis in Europe since World War II’. Breaking with a policy of deterring and containing asylum seekers outside its borders, the EU and its member states rightly responded to the flow of people by creating legal pathways that granted Ukrainian nationals protection and legal status within the Union. To date, some 8.2 million Ukrainians have registered across Europe. While these laudable efforts have undoubtedly saved lives, over a year later it is clear that the measures are the exception and not the rule. The EU has used the war in Ukraine to expand its deadly border regime in Eastern Europe, in particular the role of Frontex, doubling its efforts to keep out those fleeing other wars and conflicts. Moreover, Ukraine, which has acted as the EU’s border guard for nearly two decades, has continued to play this role even as the war rages on. As we approach World Refugee Day, we expose the discrimination, racism, and hypocrisy driving Europe’s deadly border policies in response to the war. The EU’s differential treatment of refugees Following the Russian invasion of Ukraine, millions of people fled the war by moving across Ukraine’s western borders with the EU. In response, the EU and its member states did something unprecedented – they created legal pathways that immediately permitted millions of refugees to live and work inside the Union. Meanwhile in the Mediterranean, where the EU and its member states have withdrawn Search and Rescue missions and criminalised civil society organisations (CSOs) that have stepped in to fill this void, at least 2367 people were left to drown throughout 2022, though the real figure is likely much higher. A situation has unfolded since 2022 whereby the EU is willing to receive millions of refugees from one war-torn country but is hellbent on keeping those from other war-torn countries out. In one particular example in March 2022, Greece accommodated 18,000 refugees from Ukraine, but simultaneously illegally deported to Türkiye at least 540 refugees from Afghanistan, Algeria, Bangladesh, Egypt, Iraq, Libya, Morocco, Somalia, Syria, and Yemen, resulting in the death of a four-year-old child. Moreover, there were instances across Europe of refugees already living in state-provided accommodation being displaced to make space for Ukrainians. Perhaps Poland represents the starkest example of the hypocrisies that have emerged in the wake of the war. People fleeing Ukraine were received with warm meals, blankets, and provided with shelter, whereas further north along the Polish-Belarussian border people fleeing wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria, among other countries, were quite literally hunted like animals by border patrol dogs, or allowed to freeze to death in the vast forests of Poland’s north eastern territory. In national debates across many EU member states, politicians have used the presence of Ukrainian refugees to spin racist-driven arguments that Europe is full, in some cases advocating that non-Ukrainian arrivals, the vast majority of whom are not white, should be refused entry or deported. Britain’s much-criticised ‘Rwanda Plan’, which seeks to immediately deport to Rwanda those arriving ‘illegally’, is part of a much larger trend across Europe dating from long before the Ukraine war, of stepping up deportations and simultaneously eroding International Refugee Law. European states have used the war in Europe as a pretext to fortify their borders while driving a wedge between refugees who are considered deserving of protection – Ukrainian nationals – and others, often from other war-torn nations, who are not. Separately, many of Europe’s political leaders have made clear that those attempting to flee Russia’s forced conscription orders will not be granted refuge in the EU. In this vein, Finland, Poland, and the Baltic states have begun building new fences and further militarising existing infrastructure along the EU–Russian border, making it more difficult for Russians who are fleeing forced mobilisation or the wave of repression unleashed against those protesting the war to seek asylum in the EU. Differences even among those fleeing Ukraine Differential treatment with regard to international protection was not only observed between those fleeing the war in Ukraine and other wars. Hierarchies have also emerged between those fleeing Ukraine. The Ukrainian authorities prohibited Ukrainian men between 18 and 60 years of age, as well as trans-women, from leaving, insisting instead that they join the war effort. Non-Ukrainian nationals or those whose status in the country prior to the outbreak of war was irregular faced significant obstacles in securing protection in the EU. In one of the most shameful examples of how a two-tiered approach was applied by the EU and Ukraine with regard to those fleeing the war, dozens of non-Ukrainian nationals were held in an EU-funded detention centre inside Ukraine, as the war raged around it. This is a clear violation of International Refugee Law and International Humanitarian Law, in particular Article 58C of Additional Protocol 1 to the Geneva Conventions. The Volyn PTPI, located less than 40 kilometres from a military airfield that was bombed by a Russian airstrike in March 2022, refused to release between 35 and 45 detainees from Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Cameroon, India, Pakistan and Sudan. Five Ethiopians were released and relocated to Romania only after their government intervened. While most of the original detainees were eventually released following international pressure, the fact that not all had legal status in Ukraine led to some of them being detained once again in Poland. The incident speaks for itself—at a time when millions of Ukrainian refugees were entering the EU, 45 non-Ukrainians desperate to flee the same war remained locked up in an EU funded detention centre to keep them out. This detention centre remains operational today and the detainees are mainly political refugees from surrounding countries whom the Ukrainian government deems suspicious (pro-Russian) solely on base of their nationalities. According to the Global Detention Project ‘it is also alarming that Russians, Tatars, Dagestanis, Azerbaijanis, Armenians, and Uzbeks, many of whom have fled persecution by Russian security services and whose lives and safety would be in extreme danger if deported to their countries, are being arrested, detained, and threatened with deportation from Ukraine’. Since the mid-2000s, the EU has funded the construction of detention centres located deep inside Ukrainian territory where those heading towards the EU, or deported from it, have been held. Under the terms of a 2008 agreement, Ukraine was ‘expected to receive a considerable number of irregular migrants from third countries who managed to enter the EU’s territory from Ukraine, having used Ukraine as a transit country’. Three years before this agreement was signed, in 2005, Human Rights Watch had already highlighted the ‘continuing pressure on Ukraine from the EU to assist in migration management and border enforcement’. Moreover, human rights organisations and the international media denounced the use of torture, inhumane and degrading treatment inside these centres, including applying electric shocks and beating detainees. Despite credible allegations of torture, the EU continued to enact and implement bilateral agreements with Ukraine to contain those on the move outside its borders. Frontex Expands In early 2022 Frontex launched ‘Joint Operation Terra 2022’, deploying officers from its newly established standing corps to dozens of border crossings across 12 EU member states. Once the war intensified across Ukraine, the presence of these border officials and the use of aerial surveillance equipment at the EU borders with Ukraine and Russia was expanded, particularly in Estonia, Romania and Slovakia. Following much scrutiny and criticism of its role in illegal deportations in the Aegean Sea, among other human rights violations, the war offered Frontex the opportunity to clean up its image. Photos of Frontex border officials handing out teddy bears to Ukrainian children were shared on the agency’s social media accounts, together with commentary about the importance of keeping families united while fleeing war. The agency deployed a selective approach in dealing with those fleeing Ukraine. While Ukrainian nationals were permitted entry to the EU, those from other countries who found themselves in Ukraine when the war broke out faced significant hurdles to secure temporary protection and were offered ‘voluntary return’, though in many cases returning to their home countries was out of the question. In July 2022 the EU launched its Support Hub for Internal Security and Border Management in Moldova to coordinate its support to the country in light of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Frontex plays an important role in this context and also concluded its own agreement that saw the deployment of officers and donations of border-security equipment to Moldova to ‘support the reception of refugees from Ukraine’. The fine print of the agreement also included strengthening border security and fighting irregular migration. Very quickly this more securitised approach to dealing with those seeking refuge took precedence over providing humanitarian assistance. Over a year on, Frontex is no longer sharing images of its officials handing out cuddly toys to children, but it has reverted to its usual operations, boasting that ‘in 2022, joint Frontex and Moldovan border police teams achieved excellent results … record[ing] a 300 percent increase in the detection of irregular migration compared to 2021’. Though the war in Ukraine continues, the focus of the EU’s border policies has centred on securitisation tactics with the original objective behind the recently intensified border collaboration seemingly forgotten. Meanwhile, Frontex has used the war to further extend its operational area beyond the EU’s borders. At the end of January 2023, ‘Joint Operation Moldova 2023’ was launched to ‘support national authorities with border surveillance, border checks, but also with gathering information on people smuggling networks and identifying vulnerable groups’. Apart from the Moldovan operation, in January 2023 Frontex signed an agreement with Ukraine’s State Border Guard with a grant worth €12 million for the purchase of equipment such as patrol vehicles and uniforms. As well as strengthening the EU’s border with Ukraine and Moldova, this assistance ‘will also prepare the State Border Guard Service to potentially host Frontex joint operations in future’. Frontex Deputy Executive Director Uku Särekanno clarified at the signing of the grant agreement that in light of the ‘current critical situation at the border … supporting the business continuity of our Ukrainian colleagues is crucial, both for Ukraine and the EU’. The priorities are clear – enact agreements, even in the midst of a war, that guarantee business as usual along the EU’s external borders, no matter the human costs. In addition, in 2022 the EU has also expanded the mandate of the Border Assistance Mission to Moldova and Ukraine (EUBAM) launched in 2005 and the Advisory Mission (EUAM) dating from 2012. Both entities form part of the EU’s vast array of border externalisation architecture, underpinned by bilateral and multilateral agreements. Through these agreements the EU deploys a carrot and stick approach to cajole and coerce states to control the movement of people in territories far beyond Europe’s borders in a bid to stop them from ever reaching Fortress Europe. Over the past two decades the EU, through EUBAM, financed the training of the Ukrainian State Border Guard, conducted joint EU–Ukraine border patrols, and donated border security equipment to Ukraine, while the EUAM was mandated to support Ukraine in an advisory role to reform its civil security sector, including border security. Since 2007 Frontex has played a central role in implementing bilateral agreements between the EU and Ukraine. The expanded mandate of the EUBAM and the EUAM means that EUBAM officers are now permitted to participate directly in border control, in coordination with Frontex. An additional €15 million was granted to EUBAM to recruit more staff and provide equipment and training to Moldovan border guards. Similarly, EUAM has stepped up its activities, mainly by facilitating support to border authorities in Ukraine. Meanwhile, EU-funded projects implemented by the International Centre for Migration Policy Development (ICMPD) continue, such as the EU Support to Strengthening Integrated Border Management in Ukraine project (EU4IBM). In September 2022 the EU delivered more surveillance equipment to the Ukraine State Border Guard under an ICMPD project, while in early 2023, handheld X-RAY imagers and mini scanners for detection were made available. Moldova has also strengthened its border-security capacities through German funding for a new ICMPD project.  Separately, since the full-scale invasion, CEPOL, the EU Agency for Law Enforcement Training, organised a study visit to Lithuania on ‘illegal immigration’ for law enforcement officials from Ukraine and Moldova and hosted a course on the same issue for its Moldovan partners. In February 2023, on the initiative of Estonia and the US, representatives of regional donor countries gathered at the Estonian Embassy in Warsaw to exchange ideas on how to best upgrade Ukraine’s border guard to meet EU requirements. Accession to the Schengen Area, albeit still a long way off, would lead to even more demands from the EU, with funding from the Instrument for Pre-Accession Assistance (IPA) to be made available for border security and control. The outsourcing of EU border control is not new, but rather is part of a well-oiled strategy of border externalisation and should be understood in that context. In its conclusions to a special meeting in February 2023 the European Council reaffirmed plans to drastically increase the pressure on third countries to cooperate in deportations and readmissions, with Frontex playing an important role. In what appears to be an attempt to justify the ongoing crackdown on migration, the Council conclusions referred to the ‘instrumentalisation’ of migration ‘as part of hybrid destabilising actions’. Even before the war the EU had accused Russia and Belarus of ‘weaponising’ people on the move by directing many of them at once to the Polish border with the aim of ‘destabilising’ the EU and its partner countries. This narrative of ‘weaponisation’ wrongly depicts people in need of protection as ‘enemy weapons’. It is an escalation of the ’migrants as threats’ narrative that has long underpinned EU border and migration policies and has effectively been used to disable the right to asylum in certain places – and also justify the call for ever more draconian border militarisation. Feeding the vicious cycle of displacement Just as the war is being used as a pretext to double down on border control, it has also been used to increase global arms spending, nowhere more so than in Europe, where more than €200 billion in extra military spending was announced within months of the full-scale invasion. EU member states have transferred large amounts of arms and ammunition to Ukraine, while ramping up their own military budgets and replenishing stock. The claim that this spending is necessary to deter Russia seems spurious given that the 30 NATO countries combined were already spending 17 times as much as Russia on their militaries prior to the war, a fact that did not stop it from invading. This militarisation will stoke tension and fear, generate instability and insecurity, provoke and prolong armed conflict, fuel current and future wars – and displace ever more people from their homes, many of whom will in turn seek international protection. There are also concerns that weapons transferred to Ukraine, which has long been known as a black market for arms, will be further sold and thus fuel fighting and displacement in other regions in the long term. The arms spending will clearly benefit the arms industry. Proposals to simplify intra-EU transfers of arms components and ease restrictions on exports of weapons systems to non-EU countries would pave the way to more exports of border security equipment, and arms in general, to countries at war and repressive regimes. While the war in Ukraine has not only led to massive loss of life, immense suffering and destruction across the country, its effects can also be felt all over the globe. It has severely affected food and fuel supplies, driving up prices and creating shortages. Massive inflation, fuelled by corporate profiteering – and the ‘greedflation’ of shareholders – has plunged ever more people into poverty. On top of this, the environmental destruction and the impact of the war on climate change stretches far beyond the borders of Ukraine. Research has shown that the military overall generates some 5% of global carbon emissions. These effects combined will increase forced displacement, especially in the Global South. In turn, this can be expected to lead to calls for more border fortification, in an endless cycle triggered by the EU’s tunnel vision of a securitised and militarised response to migration. The military and security industry, already feasting on the current spending bonanza, will be the main profiteer of these destructive policies of Fortress Europe. Conclusion Somewhat obscured by the EU's comparatively generous reception of (white) refugees from Ukraine, it has quietly used the war and its consequences to rapidly boost and militarise border security, with a lead role for Frontex that has seen its operational mandate expanded far beyond the EU. Refugees fleeing other countries and conflicts as well as people on the move still detained or living in Ukraine have borne the brunt of this. The EU’s response to the war in Ukraine has shown that when there is political will, it can immediately and effectively create legal pathways permitting refugees to live safely within the EU. The fact that it failed do so for refugees fleeing other war-torn regions has exposed the discrimination, racism, and hypocrisy that drive the EU’s deadly border regime. This regime will be further intensified with the agreement reached on June 8 between EU member states on the Pact on Migration and Asylum, which reduces protection standards, erodes the rights of people on the move, and opens the door for more detention, illegal deportations, and border externalisation. If the EU is truly invested in tackling the root causes of migration and not just containing it beyond its borders, perhaps cutting ties with authoritarian regimes and curtailing arms exports to countries at war would be a good place to start. The EU and its member states are legally bound under international law to treat all those who seek asylum equally, regardless of the colour of their skin or their country of origin. Rather than spending pools of public money on fuelling wars and fortifying borders, the EU and its member states should instead support communities and local networks in their efforts to receive those fleeing war and violence.

In a June 23 video released on one of Yevgeny Prigozhin’s Telegram channels the morning he launched his mutiny, the Wagner founder undermined core false narratives Russian President Vladimir Putin used to justify launching his war of aggression against Ukraine in February 2022. While the impact of Prigozhin’s remarks remains to be seen, they serve as evidence of how Putin attempted to deceive domestic audiences and the international community, both of which may come with long-term consequences for the Russian president.  The Kremlin and its proxies spent the years and months leading up to the invasion attempting to paint Ukraine as the aggressor. As the DFRLab outlined in Narrative Warfare: How the Kremlin and Russian news outlets justified a war of aggression against Ukraine, Putin and his pro-Kremlin media proxies employed false and misleading narratives to justify military action against Ukraine, mask the Kremlin’s operational planning, and deny any responsibility for the coming war. “Collectively, these narratives served as Vladimir Putin’s casus belli to engage in a war of aggression against Ukraine,” the report noted. Over the course of the thirty-minute video, Prigozhin criticized Russian military leadership under Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Gennady Gerasimov, castigating the reasons given to justify the war and dismissing them as false. In challenging core pre-war Kremlin narratives, Prigozhin simultaneously undermined multiple arguments cited directly by Putin during his public address on February 24, 2022, when he announced the start of the invasion. Prigozhin’s remarks represent the most consequential debunking of the Kremlin’s case for war by a high-profile Russian power player and Putin confidant. Since the start of the war, the Kremlin has cracked down on dissent by criminalizing criticism of the military, restricting access to social media platforms, and forcing independent media to either cease operations or flee the country. In doing so, Kremlin pro-war narratives dominate Russia’s entire domestic information ecosystem. And just as Prigozhin’s mutiny exposed the regime’s weaknesses for the entire Russian public to see, his pre-mutiny takedown of the Kremlin’s justifications for war exposed how Putin and his proxies wove together a web of falsehoods to initiate the invasion. Background As part of our previous research for the Narrative Warfare report, the DFRLab analyzed hundreds of debunked claims made during the 2014-2021 interwar period, as well as more than 10,000 instances of pro-Kremlin and anti-Ukrainian narratives appearing in Russian media during the ten weeks preceding the invasion. We then documented how these narratives formed the backbone of Putin’s false justifications for war during his public remarks on February 24, 2022, when he announced the launch of Russia’s so-called “special military operation” against Ukraine. At the heart of the speech, Putin relied on false and misleading narrative tropes prominently featured in the weeks and months prior to the invasion, some of them dating to his 2014 of Ukraine. While maintaining the position that Russia seeks peace, for example, Putin also emphasized that Russia had a moral obligation to do something about security in the region. Putin also embraced multiple false narratives and tropes about Ukraine being the aggressor, including accusations that the country is run by Nazis, that Ukraine intends to commit genocide against Russian speakers, and that it plans to use weapons of mass destruction against Russia and the breakaway regions. Lastly, he used these opportunities to blame the West for whatever would happen next, arguing that Ukraine is a puppet of the West, which wants to create tensions in the region. Putin’s February 2022 speech was specifically crafted to make his false case for war. In just over thirty minutes on June 2023, Yevgeny Prigozhin – one of Putin’s closest, longtime confidants in security and propaganda efforts – successfully undermined Putin’s core arguments for his war against Ukraine. Questioning Ukraine’s “aggression” In his February 2022 speech, Putin highlighted the need to save Russians in Ukraine before Ukraine could commit “genocide” against them. “It became impossible to tolerate it,” Putin stated at the time. “We had to stop that atrocity, that genocide of the millions of people who live there and who pinned their hopes on Russia, on all of us.” He then added, “If we look at the sequence of events and the incoming reports, the showdown between Russia and these forces cannot be avoided. It is only a matter of time. They [NATO] are getting ready and waiting for the right moment. Moreover, they went as far as aspire to acquire nuclear weapons. We will not let this happen.” Prigozhin’s June 23 remarks undercut Putin’s claims that there had been any imminent threat to Russians, let alone genocide. “All these long eight years, from 2014 to 2022, sometimes the number of various skirmishes increased,” Prigozhin said. “Roughly speaking, the exchange of ammunition, the exchange of shots, sometimes decreased. On February 24, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Now the Ministry of Defense is trying to deceive the public, is trying to deceive the president, and tell the story that there was insane aggression on the part of Ukraine, and they were going to attack us together with the entire NATO bloc. Therefore, the so-called special operation, on February 24, was launched for completely different reasons.” [emphasis added by the DFRLab] Notably, Prigozhin described the war as a profit-making enterprise that would enrich Kremlin elites rather than residents of the Donbas, the region of eastern Ukraine comprising Donetsk and Luhansk. “Today, a decision is already being made when it will be launched,” he said, describing the events of February 2022. “And how the hell will it be launched? Who will it get to own it, who will profit on it? It’s a 100% chance that it won’t be the people of Donbas – 100%. There will be new owners immediately who will then cut these grandmothers.” Prigozhin alleges Kremlin regime change plan As part of Putin’s February 2022 explanation for conducting a “special military operation,” he insisted that its goals were limited in scope. “It is not our plan to occupy the Ukrainian territory,” he insisted. “We do not intend to impose anything on anyone by force.” Prigozhin contradicted this as well, insisting the Kremlin planned to decapitate Ukraine’s democratically-elected leadership and replace it with a Russian figurehead – specifically, former Ukrainian MP Viktor Medvedchuk, a well-known Kremlin supporter who would later be arrested by Ukraine and exchanged for prisoners-of-war held by Russia. “So the second most important task of the operation was the appointment of Medvedchuk,” Prigozhin argued. “The same Medvedchuk who had already made his way to Kyiv in advance, sat and waited for the troops to arrive. Zelenskyy would run away, everyone would lay down their arms, and he would become the president of this Ukraine.” Denazification as a red herring Throughout Putin’s February 24 address, he referred to Ukrainians as “Nazis,” and invoked Russian patriotism by discussing the former Soviet Union’s role in defeating Nazi Germany. “The country stopped the enemy and went on to defeat it, but this came at a tremendous cost,” Putin recounted. “The attempt to appease the aggressor ahead of the Great Patriotic War proved to be a mistake which came at a high cost for our people.” He added, “The outcomes of World War II and the sacrifices our people had to make to defeat Nazism are sacred.” Soviet forces successfully captured Berlin in the spring of 1945 as its US and British allies closed in from the west. Ukraine, then part of the Soviet Union, was among the first Soviet states invaded by Nazi Germany, and Ukrainians played a key role in the Soviet counteroffensive to defeat Germany. Millions of Ukrainians died in the war, including nearly one million Ukrainian Jews; President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, who is Jewish, was among those who lost family during the Holocaust. When discussing the present situation in Ukraine, though, Putin insisted that “leading NATO countries are supporting far-right nationalists and neo-Nazis in Ukraine.” “They will undoubtedly try to bring war to Crimea just as they have done in the Donbas, to kill innocent people just as members of the punitive units of Ukrainian nationalists and Hitler’s accomplices did during the Great Patriotic War,” he continued. “They have also openly laid claim to several other Russian regions. “The purpose of this operation is to protect people who, for eight years now, have been facing humiliation and genocide perpetrated by the Kyiv regime. To this end, we will seek to demilitarize and denazify Ukraine, as well as bring to trial those who perpetrated numerous bloody crimes against civilians, including against citizens of the Russian Federation.” Again invoking Russian patriotism, Putin added, “Comrade officers: Your fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers did not fight the Nazi occupiers and did not defend our common Motherland to allow today’s neo-Nazis to seize power in Ukraine. You swore the oath of allegiance to the Ukrainian people and not to the junta, the people’s adversary which is plundering Ukraine and humiliating the Ukrainian people.” Prigozhin, in contrast, insisted that the purpose of the invasion was to assimilate Russian-speaking Ukrainians into the Russian Federation rather than to defeat Nazis. “The war was not needed to return Russian citizens to our bosom, and not in order to demilitarize and denazify Ukraine.” Denying the existence of Ukrainians Not all of Prigozhin’s remarks ran counter to Putin. While attempting to make the point that a negotiated settlement with Ukraine remained a possibility prior to the invasion, Prigozhin reinforced Putin’s long-standing position that Ukrainians do not exist as their own ethnic entity and are actually Russians, both culturally and genetically. “All [the Kremlin] had to do was get down from Olympus: go and negotiate, because the whole of Eastern Ukraine is inhabited by people who are genetically Russian,” he said. “And what is happening today, we’re seeing these genetic Russians being killed.” Putin reinforced this idea in his February 2022 speech when he argued that Ukrainian aggression was tantamount to genocide against Russians living in the Donbas. As previously noted, Putin said, “It became impossible to tolerate it,” he said. We had to stop that atrocity, that genocide of the millions of people who live there and who pinned their hopes on Russia, on all of us.” Later in the speech when he declared the launch of his “special military operation,” he added, “The purpose of this operation is to protect people who, for eight years now, have been facing humiliation and genocide perpetrated by the Kyiv regime.” In this sense, Putin and Prighozin share the false assertion that Ukraine was perpetrating genocide against Russians, while simultaneously denying Ukrainian identity. The Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide describes genocide as “a crime committed with the intent to destroy a national, ethnic, racial or religious group, in whole or in part,” which is very much reflected in Putin and Prigozhin’s beliefs that Ukrainians are genetically Russian and should be assimilated by force. Criticizing Russia’s military capabilities Putin’s February 24 speech also claimed that Russia’s armed forces could defeat any aggressor. “As for military affairs, even after the dissolution of the USSR and losing a considerable part of its capabilities, today’s Russia remains one of the most powerful nuclear states,” Putin said. “Moreover, it has a certain advantage in several cutting-edge weapons. In this context, there should be no doubt for anyone that any potential aggressor will face defeat and ominous consequences should it directly attack our country.” Prigozhin undermined these claims when he said the Russian army wasn’t combat-ready and the soldiers weren’t given proper weapons, preventing them to fight more aggressively. “The army did nothing since 2012,” he insisted. “Each conscript was given three rounds of ammunition. Like during the best Soviet times. Although this was not the case in Soviet times either. They weren’t in combat training. They are not trained on various types of weapons, especially modern ones. And so, in Russia the army was in such a flawed state that it could not conduct any large-scale military operations.” Short-term mutiny, long-term consequences Prigozhin’s June 23 video kicked off what would prove to be a two-day mutiny against the Russian government. A deal negotiated by Belarusian President Alyaksandr Lukashenka helped de-escalate the crisis, but the mutiny exposed the weaknesses in not only the organization of Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine but also the Russian state itself. We expect to see increased fractionalization among Russian leaders as they position themselves with the public through propaganda and other means while buttressing themselves within the Kremlin hierarchy. When Yevgeny Prigozhin put his Wagner mutiny into motion, he repeatedly stated that the object of his revolt was to hold Russia’s military establishment accountable for its failures in Ukraine. But by blaming the Russian Ministry of Defense for everything that has gone wrong for Russia in Ukraine, including its premise for prosecuting the war, he simultaneously exposed enormous cracks in Putin’s public arguments for going to war in the first place. Given his prominence, his closeness with Putin, and his role in the military operation, Prighozin’s words debunking the Kremlin case for war will be important to long-term efforts to hold Putin and the regime accountable for its war of aggression and other crimes conducted against Ukraine. As we noted in Narrative Warfare, documenting the Kremlin’s use of false narratives prior to the war could serve as evidence for proving the crime of aggression: First, Kremlin disinformation published in the leadup to the invasion may be evidence of planning or preparing for an act of aggression. This includes many of the false and misleading narratives documented in this report: claims of Ukraine’s alleged planned chemical-weapons attacks, the shelling of the kindergarten, sabotage of chlorine tanks, development of nuclear weapons, and genocidal acts against Russians in the Donbas. These and other narratives by Kremlin and Donbas officials in the days and weeks leading up to the invasion were used to create a pretext for the invasion, thus making them part of the planning that went into the invasion. Second, disinformation narratives that started prior to the invasion and continued afterward may be evidence that Russian or Donbas officials knew the invasion was inconsistent with the UN Charter and constituted a “manifest violation” of it. For example, if officials believed the invasion was legally justified, there would be no need to create a pretext for it. The fact that they created a pretext for the invasion could help prosecutors prove that they were aware a pretext was needed. No doubt, Russian and Donbas officials would argue that they did not create a pretext and the information they published was accurate, or that they believed it to be accurate. This argument would, therefore, require establishing that officials knew their public claims to be false but published them anyway.For weeks, months, and even years prior to the invasion, Putin, the Kremlin, and their proxies telegraphed an array of narratives to justify it, deny responsibility for it, and mask their hostile intentions. If subsequent investigations establish that these officials knew these narratives to be inaccurate, the deployment of disinformation narratives could serve as evidence of knowledge that the invasion was a manifest violation of the UN Charter. Whether intentional or not, the most lasting impact of Prigozhin’s insurrection was the admonition of the Kremlin’s false premise for war. His remarks on June 23 may very well become a piece of the puzzle for investigators that seek to hold Putin accountable. 

One of the many knock-on impacts of Russia’s war against Ukraine has been a surge in demand for military equipment and ammunition in Europe. Poland is one of several Central European countries whose arms industries have seen a marked increase in orders: from their national governments, from European allies buying materiel to give to Ukraine and to replenish their own stockpiles, and from Ukraine itself. Since February 2022, Poland has been among the top suppliers of major arms to Ukraine, not least because it held stocks of Soviet-era equipment that Ukraine’s armed forces still relied on in the first months after the invasion. Demand seems likely to remain high as, on top of the orders already placed, many European states have pledged to increase military spending in response to a heightened perceived threat from Russia. This blog looks at how Poland, which has the biggest domestic arms industry in Central Europe, is using this opportunity to pursue a long-held ambition to modernize its armed forces and grow its arms industry, targeting new markets, diversifying product portfolios and finally moving beyond its post-Soviet legacy. The long road to military modernization in Poland During the cold war, many Central and East European states developed large domestic arms industries to produce Soviet-designed military equipment for the forces of the Warsaw Treaty Organization. The cold war’s end sounded the death knell for many of the region’s arms producers. Between the mid 1980s and 2000, for example, employment in Poland’s arms industry fell by 76 per cent. Nevertheless, successive Polish governments decided it would be strategic to maintain a domestic arms industry. A series of attempts to revitalize the industry during the 1990s and 2000s met with limited success. Poland’s accession to NATO in 1999 was one opportunity, given the Alliance’s military spending requirements and common equipment standards. The government tried to ensure that Polish companies were given a role in producing and servicing new NATO-standard equipment that was procured for the Polish Armed Forces. Despite this, the Polish arms industry remained a marginal player on the global stage, often still producing equipment based on Soviet-era designs. ‘Polonization’—the participation of Polish partners in the manufacture and delivery of imported weapon systems—has been a key element in Polish military modernization drives and an important criterion in evaluating bids from foreign suppliers. Not only does it provide income for Polish companies, but it also gives them access to new technologies and skills. The latest Polish military modernization programme was launched in 2020 as part of an updated National Security Strategy, largely in response to a perceived growing threat from Russia. Much like its predecessors, it aims to ‘Create conditions for the Polish defence industry . . . to meet long-term needs of the Polish Armed Forces’, while ‘strengthening operational capabilities of the Polish Armed Forces to deter and defend against security threats, with particular emphasis on enhancing the level of mobility and technical modernisation’. In 2020 it was estimated that around 60 per cent of Poland’s budget for military procurement and modernization was allocated to the domestic industry. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 provided new impetus and a month later the government passed the Homeland Defence Act to reorganize its national defence policy and increase military expenditure to 3 per cent of gross domestic product (GDP) in 2023. In January 2023 Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki announced that the course of the war in Ukraine meant Poland needed to ‘arm ourselves even faster’ and pushed the military spending target up to 4 per cent of GDP. Once again, the domestic arms industry was to play an important role in—and be a key beneficiary of—the military modernization plans. Key ‘Polonized’ procurement deals since the start of the war During 2022 the estimated share of Polish military spending dedicated to procurement jumped from 20.4 to 35.9 per cent, largely due to a flurry of new bilateral arms procurement deals. The state-owned arms industry group Polska Grupa Zbrojeniowa (PGZ), which has been the biggest actor in the Polish arms industry since a consolidation programme in 2014, has been the main beneficiary of the Polonization requirements built into these deals. In March 2022 Poland selected the United Kingdom’s Babcock as a partner to support a consortium led by PGZ in delivering new frigates to the Polish Navy. The ships will be built in Poland and Babcock will provide design specifications and transfer technologies and skills to the consortium members. Six months later, Poland signed a deal with Korea Aerospace Industries for FA-50 light attack aircraft, which will replace Poland’s Soviet-designed MiG-29s and Su-22s. The deal is worth $3 billion and includes setting up a service facility for the new aircraft, which is to be operated by PGZ. In November another contract was signed, worth $5.7 billion, for the supply of South Korean K2 main battle tanks and K9 self-propelled howitzers for the Polish Armed Forces. Some are to come from existing stock while others are to be produced by South Korean–Polish consortiums. In the same month, PGZ also signed an agreement with BAE Systems for the delivery of M88 armed recovery vehicles and armoured multi-purpose vehicles to the Polish Armed Forces. In February 2023 the Polish government placed an order with PGZ subsidiary Huta Stalowa Wola for 1400 Borsuk infantry fighting vehicles. The Borsuk is a new model developed to replace the Soviet-era BMP-1 and is to be produced in Poland based on a Korean chassis. In March South Korean producer Hyundai Rotem signed a consortium agreement with PGZ for the production of K2s in Poland. PGZ subsidiaries will also cooperate with the South Korean Hanwha Group to produce the K9s as well as K239 Chunmoo multiple-rocket launchers, which are to be integrated with trucks and other technologies produced in Poland under a $3.55 billion contract signed in November 2022. Hanwha has said it plans to increase its presence in Poland and work with local companies to develop and build a variety of military systems. In April, in what has been hailed as the ‘largest European short-range air defence acquisition programme in NATO’, the trans-European arms producer MBDA won a $2.4 billion contract to provide Poland with missiles and missile launchers to be integrated with the PGZ-produced Pilica+ air defence system. The two companies ‘continue to work towards contracting the technology transfer and Polish manufacture of the mid-tier . . . air defence programme’. Last month, Poland expressed interest in joining South Korea’s 4.5-generation KF-21 Boramae combat aircraft programme. If the partnership is given the green light, it would mean an upgrade to Poland’s air force capabilities, and PGZ would once again be involved in the industrial process. Opportunities and risks There is little doubt that the war in Ukraine has caused ripple effects across the arms industries in the whole of Europe. While for Poland helping Ukraine is a matter of national and regional security, the war is also catalysing steps to upgrade and modernize its arms industry. Poland sees an unprecedented opportunity to finally achieve its ambitions and become a more significant player in the global arms industry. The pre-1989 origins of the Polish arms industry have strongly influenced its recent fortunes, particularly in terms of products and customers. Since the end of the cold war, Poland has been trying to distance its arms industry from its Soviet legacy, for military, political and commercial reasons. However, one modernization and investment programme after another has been delayed, abandoned or simply fallen short of ambitions. While Poland is still a major importer of major arms, its approach has been to balance off-the-shelf imports to fulfil immediate needs with Polonization deals to develop domestic production capacity for the long term. Modernization and Polonization seem to currently be in full swing: contracts with major foreign companies positively impact the visibility and attractiveness of the Polish domestic arms industry, creating a self-reinforcing cycle. Coupled with increased Polish military spending and the most recent spending pledges, the current demand means the Polish arms industry’s prospects seem good for the next few years. However, basing ambitious long-term investment and modernization plans on the response to temporary, largely external events is something of a gamble. Several factors could change the prospects for Poland’s arms industry, such as a shift in governments’ spending priorities or new European policies on arms industry integration. If something like that were to happen, Poland’s ambitions for its arms industry could once again be undermined.