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Diplomacy
USA flag and EU flag print screen on two  pawn chess for battle.It is symbol of United States of America increase tariff tax barrier for import product from EU countries.-Image.

SAFE - Will the American Eagle be Replaced with the European Golden Eagle? Can the EU replace the US as a benign hegemon?

by Krzysztof Śliwiński

Abstract This paper examines whether the European Union (EU) can supplant the United States (US) as a benign hegemon in the contemporary international system. It discusses the concept of a benign hegemon, traditionally associated with the US, characterized by military and economic dominance exercised with liberal values, multilateralism, and the promotion of global security and prosperity.  The analysis highlights the limitations of US hegemony, including military overextension, economic challenges, and a decline in soft power, particularly in regions such as the Middle East. Conversely, the EU's global ambitions are examined, with a focus on its peace efforts, trade agreements, development aid, and multilateral engagement. However, the EU's internal divisions, lack of unified foreign and defense policy, and historical perceptions of coercion limit its ability to act as a benign hegemon. The analysis concludes with a proposition that the EU's unique nature and current constraints suggest it cannot fully assume the US's role, raising questions about the viability of benign hegemony in today's context. Key Words: SAFE, EU, US, Benign Hegemon, Geopolitics Introduction In the recent two pieces, we looked at Security Action for Europe (SAFE) and its potential consequences regarding the role and nature of the EU as a military power {link}, and Ukraine's integration into European defence cooperation, highlighting its unique status as a semi-integrated security partner (SISP) despite not being an EU member. {link}, This article will examine the transatlantic relations and specifically address the question of whether the EU could replace the US as a benign hegemon. According to popular sources, a "benign hegemon" refers to a dominant power that exercises its influence in a manner that is generally considered beneficial. This notion is contemporary and is almost always used referring to the United States (US). Accordingly, the US has used its influence to provide global security and stability without being overly aggressive or coercive. The concept is rooted in hegemonic stability theory, which posits that a single dominant state is necessary to maintain the stability of the international system.[i] Scholars define a benign hegemon as one that provides the necessary power to uphold the international order. This involves advancing its interests while promoting global security and prosperity through multilateral treaties and international organizations, safeguarding national sovereignty via alliance networks and the UN Security Council, and fostering unrestricted market capitalism through trade deals and bodies such as the World Trade Organization and the International Monetary Fund.[ii] Moreover, a benign hegemon is typically defined as a hegemonic power that, in addition to possessing overwhelming military and economic power, utilises its influence to promote more liberal principles within the international system. This includes pursuing liberal international values such as economic development, liberal and democratic political structures, and fostering a community of civilised states that resort to war only as a last resort and never against each other. The United States, as the hegemonic power after the Cold War, is often described as benign because its influence is broadly progressive, aiming to create a liberal world order based on free markets, free speech, free elections, and the exercise of free will unencumbered by the state. While the US maintains traditional geopolitical objectives, it also attempts to refashion the operational ground rules of the international system itself, promoting free trade, human rights, democratisation, and a global cultural infrastructure based on US technological companies. This combination of overwhelming power and a liberal agenda is what characterises a benign hegemon.[iii] Furthermore, experts often cite the US's "liberal grand strategy" as constructing a relatively benign and highly institutionalised multilateral system based on open markets, free trade, and the provision of public goods, such as collective security and an open international trading regime.[iv] This system is viewed as enabling other countries to prosper economically in a secure environment, with examples such as the rebuilding and subsequent success of Japan and Germany. However, the concept of benign hegemon is contested, with some arguing that the US lacks the resources to be a genuine global hegemon, as noted by John Mearsheimer and Joseph Nye, who suggest it cannot achieve all security, political, and economic goals alone. This argument highlights the complexity of assessing whether the US's actions are truly benign, especially given its military and financial reach.[v] Historical Context The US's role as a potential benign hegemon has been prominent since the end of World War II, particularly after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, when it occupied a hegemonic position within world politics Historical instances include its leadership in establishing the Bretton Woods system, the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and security alliances like NATO, which aimed to stabilise the global economy and provide collective defense. The US also played a key role in democratising post-war Europe and Japan, furthering its image as a stabilising force. On the positive side, the US led through consent, with high global approval ratings and multilateral actions, such as Bush Sr.'s Gulf War coalition and Obama's Libya UN action, which are claimed to be foundational to the liberal order since World War II. On the negative side, actions like the Iraq War, drone attacks, and government overthrows in Latin America and the Middle East are cited as evidence of coercion and imperialism, undermining the benign label. Scholars focusing on the Middle East note that despite its hegemonic role, the region has experienced significant violence and instability, with US interventions such as the 2003 Iraq War and the 2011 Libya seen as sources of disorder rather than stability. This challenges the notion of benign hegemony, suggesting unipolarity (power dominance without ideological consensus) better explains US actions in the region.[vi] US hegemony and its limitations The concept of American hegemony has been a cornerstone of international relations since the end of World War II. However, in recent decades, the limitations of American hegemony have become increasingly apparent across military, economic, and cultural domains. Given the recent developments in the Middle East (war in Gaza and incursions between Israel and Iran), it seems logical to examine the limitations of US hegemony in the context of the region. Several factors contribute to the decline in American influence in the Middle East. Firstly, the failure of political reconstruction efforts in Iraq after the US-led invasion and overthrow of Saddam Hussein shifted America's position in the region from advantageous to disadvantaged and exposed the limits of American hegemony. Secondly, war-weariness within the United States affects the ability to sustain prolonged involvement and influence in the region. Thirdly, there is a relative neglect of the Arab-Israeli peace process, which undermines American credibility and effectiveness in the region. Fourthly, the impact of US regional policies on the influence of Iran, which has grown stronger partly as an unintended consequence of the Iraq war. Next, the emergence of a new regional power struggle between an Iranian-led bloc of mainly Shia actors and a Sunni bloc led by Arab states such as Saudi Arabia and Egypt. The rise of Islamist militias and political groups like Muqtada al-Sadr's supporters in Iraq, Hezbollah in Lebanon, and Hamas in the Palestinian territories, which were advantaged by early elections promoted by the US before adequate security and political institutions were in place. Next, the Bush administration's distancing from the Israeli-Palestinian peace process contributed to the rise of Hamas and further undermined moderate Palestinian leadership. Lastly, the diminished fear of American power by adversaries such as Iran, which refused negotiations and disregarded weak UN sanctions, and the uncertainty of America's Arab allies about the reliability of the US as a partner.[vii] Generally speaking, one of the most significant limitations of American military dominance is the issue of overextension. The US has maintained a global military presence, with bases and troops stationed across the world. However, this overextension has led to military fatigue and resource depletion. The wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, for instance, have strained the US military, leading to a decline in its ability to project power effectively.[viii] The rise of other military powers, particularly China, has also challenged the United States' military dominance. China's rapid military modernisation, including advancements in technology and naval capabilities, has narrowed the gap between the two superpowers. This has raised concerns about the US's ability to maintain its military superiority in the Asia-Pacific region and beyond. [ix] Maintaining military dominance is costly, and the economic burden of sustaining a global military presence has taken a toll on the US economy. The high defence budget has led to trade imbalances and deindustrialisation, weakening the economic foundations of American hegemony.[x] The US economy has faced significant challenges, including deindustrialisation, financialisation, and rising competition from China. The shift of manufacturing activities to countries with lower labour costs has weakened the US industrial base, while the rise of China as a global economic powerhouse has challenged American economic influence.[xi] Globalisation has created a more interconnected world economy, reducing the US's ability to dictate economic policies unilaterally. The rise of emerging economies, particularly in Asia, has shifted the balance of economic power, making it difficult for the US to maintain its hegemony in global trade and finance.[xii] The dominance of the US dollar in the global financial system is facing challenges. The rise of alternative currencies and the increasing use of cryptocurrencies have threatened the dollar's hegemony. Additionally, countries like Russia and China are reducing their dependence on the dollar, further eroding its global dominance.[xiii] American cultural influence, once a cornerstone of its global hegemony, is facing resistance. The rise of non-Western cultural formations, particularly in Asia and the Middle East, has challenged the dominance of American media, entertainment, and values. This has led to a decline in the global appeal of American culture.[xiv] The US's soft power, which was once a key component of its hegemony, has declined in recent years. The country's unilateral policies, military interventions, and domestic challenges, such as racial tensions and economic inequality, have eroded its moral authority and global influence.[xv] What is the EU hoping to achieve as a global player? A thorough analysis of available up-to-date documents issued by the EU itself suggests several key areas of interest to the organisation as a key global player. First and foremost, the EU is committed to fostering peace, preventing conflicts, and strengthening international security. It supports a rules-based international order with the United Nations at its core, advocating for multilateralism and the rule of international law.[xvi] The EU has actively engaged in conflict resolution, such as promoting a two-state solution in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and supporting ceasefires in regions like Gaza.[xvii] It also invests significantly in the defence of Ukraine to counter Russian aggression, viewing this as critical to maintaining European and global stability.[xviii] As the world's largest trading power, the EU seeks to use its economic strength to boost prosperity, enhance its trading power, and foster mutually beneficial partnerships. The EU's economic influence is a key pillar of its global power strategy, as evidenced by recent agreements. In April 2025, the EU-Central Asia summit agreed on a strategic partnership aimed at strengthening economic ties between the EU and Central Asia.[xix] A month later (May 2025), the EU and Singapore signed a landmark Digital Trade Agreement, enhancing the EU's digital trade capabilities.[xx] Overall, the EU has over 40 trade agreements with 70 countries. These agreements fall into three distinct categories: Economic Partnership Agreements (EPAs), Free Trade Agreements (FTAs), and Association Agreements (AAs). The EU also enters into non-preferential trade agreements, as part of broader deals such as Partnership and Cooperation Agreements (PCAs).[xxi] The EU provides significant development aid, which, when including the UK, is two-thirds greater than that of the US and is mainly supplied as grants rather than loans. According to the EU, this highlights its commitment to promoting human rights and sustainable development. The EU has built a dominant position in global development. It accounts for half of all aid worldwide, but the plethora of different programmes disguises its profile in this regard. [xxii] The EU aims to establish strong, well-managed partnerships with countries and regions beyond its immediate neighbourhood, particularly with middle powers (e.g., Brazil, Egypt, Indonesia, Mexico, Saudi Arabia) and pivotal regions (e.g., Africa, Central Asia, Southeast Asia). This is crucial for maintaining its influence in a multipolar world.[xxiii] In that respect, the EU is committed to reforming multilateral institutions, such as the UN, the IMF, and the World Bank, to ensure more equitable representation and effectiveness. It also aims to play a leading role in shaping the future of global forums, such as the G-20. Initiatives such as the "Golden Gateway" (€300 billion by 2027, launched in late 2021) and "Team Europe" for post-COVID investments are part of the EU's strategy to counterbalance China's Belt and Road Initiative and engage more effectively with developing countries.[xxiv] The EU focuses on addressing global challenges, including climate action, migration, and economic development. It wants to ensure that its climate policies, such as the Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism, do not hinder the development of Southern countries and offers compensation through initiatives like the Global Gateway and climate funds.[xxv] In 2021, the EU was the top partner for 80 countries and provided 43% of global official development assistance, underscoring its commitment.[xxvi] Migration reform is another priority, with the EU aiming to facilitate legal immigration pathways, including work visas, circular migration, and resettlement schemes, to address irregular entries and support global development.[xxvii] In this respect, the Council of the European Union adopted the EU's Pact on Migration and Asylum in May 2024. According to the EU, "the asylum and migration pact will ensure a fairer and stronger migration system that makes a concrete difference on the ground. These new rules will enhance the effectiveness of the European asylum system and foster greater solidarity among member states. The European Union will also continue its close cooperation with third countries to tackle the root causes of irregular migration".[xxviii]   The EU aspires to be a more assertive player in global security, potentially reevaluating its role in NATO and taking on greater responsibility as a security guarantor, particularly in regions such as Africa. It recognises the need for a foreign policy that is both humble (acknowledging the need to do more to have an impact) and ambitious (aiming for strong partnerships to promote its interests and objectives). The EU faces challenges from disinformation campaigns by Russia and China, as well as historical resentment from centuries of European dominance. To address this, Brussels is scaling up its diplomatic engagement and communication efforts, including task forces for regions such as sub-Saharan Africa and communication hubs like the one in Beirut (Carnegie Endowment for International Peace - The EU and the Global Battle of Narratives, citing EEAS Disinformation Speech). The EU aims to repair its image and rebuild trust abroad by positioning itself as a force for reform and a reliable partner for developing nations.[xxix] The EU finds itself squeezed between the United States and China, with its interests increasingly aligned with those of the US, yet also needing to assert its independence. The US's "pivot to Asia" has given the EU more freedom on specific international issues, but it also underscores the need for the EU to strengthen its global role.[xxx] The EU must also clarify its position vis-à-vis the Global South, ensuring that its policies are perceived as supportive and beneficial to developing nations, particularly in areas such as trade, climate, and security. Can the EU ever become a benign power? The answer to this question turns out to be negative, at least as long as we adhere to the criteria used so far. Below, the reader will find a list of reasons supporting the above-proposed statement. First, the EU is still not a unified entity, especially regarding its foreign, security, and, even more so, defence policy. It remains a collection of 27 semi-independent states, some, such as Germany, being more independent than others, notably the Benelux countries (Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg). Ultimately, the EU's ability to achieve its declared foreign and security objectives depends on the political dynamics and appetite for further integration among member states. For example, the latest proposed 18th package of Russian sanctions was blocked by Hungary and Slovakia, and Brussels has limited options for action, at least for now.[xxxi] The EU's vast asymmetry in power with its neighbors can lead to perceptions of dominance and coercion, even if the EU does not intend to be seen that way.[xxxii] One does not have to look far, but consider the latest (since 2015) waves of immigration. In northern Africa, as well as in some parts of the Middle East, South Asia, and South America, the EU member states are predominantly seen as former colonial powers. There appears to be a shared sense of entitlement towards the EU and its member states regarding its imperial past, which was often anything but benign. Importantly, this does not refer to central and Eastern European members of the EU.[xxxiii] While the EU remains an economic (albeit comparatively declining) and normative power (at least this is what it likes to self-identify), it lacks the military capacity to project its influence in the same way that traditional hegemons have. It is also doubtful that even if the SAFE instrument is fully realized in the next couple of years, the EU member states will have the industrial and human capacity to match the great powers, such as the US, Russia, Turkey, Iran, or, most of all, China.  A quick juxtaposition of current defense spending, population numbers, population growth forecasts, and economic output forecasts tells us all we need to know in this regard. The answer is bitter for the EU; it is likely to matter less and less. On top of that, let's look at the notion of “benign”. What does it even mean? Perhaps the term is entirely false; maybe even the US does not now fulfill the “benign” requirements, at least not in the way it has been defined (as in the introduction). Perhaps, there has never really been a “benign hegemon,” and the EU should not even try to fill these shoes. As usual, there are more questions than answers. Whatever the EU becomes via SAFE, it will probably stand for, not the first time, as new and an “undefiable animal” – sui generis (of its kind) as the EU academics usually posit. The concept of the EU as a benign hegemon is complex and contested. While the EU does promote its values and norms through various means, the extent to which its influence is truly benign is debatable. The EU's internal divisions and its neighbors' perceptions of its power dynamics play a crucial role in shaping the reality of its regional role. Can the EU become a benign power in the future? The author of this analysis is rather negative. Especially, if the EU does not address the challenges as explored here: https://worldandnewworld.com/safe-europe-military-power-3/ and https://worldandnewworld.com/ukraine-european-defence-cooperation/   [1] Although not official, some discussions suggest animals like the Golden Eagle as potential symbols due to its historical significance in Europe, including its use in the Roman Empire and modern Germany.[i]   See more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hegemonic_stability_theory[ii]Keay, L. (2023). Surviving the End of US Hegemony. The International Spectator. https://www.iai.it/en/pubblicazioni/c05/surviving-end-us-hegemony[iii]  Catley, B. (1997). Hegemonic America: The benign superpower? Contemporary Southeast Asia, 18(4), 377-399. ISEAS - Yusof Ishak Institute. https://www.jstor.org/stable/25798354[iv]   Catley, B. (1997). Hegemonic America: The Benign Superpower? Contemporary Southeast Asia, 18(4), 377–399. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25798354[v]Mearsheimer, J. J. (2016). Benign Hegemony. International Studies Review, 1(3). https://www.mearsheimer.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Benign-Hegemony.pdf [vi] Gause, F. G. (2025). Hegemony, Unipolarity and American Failure in the Middle East. POMEPS Studies, 54, 41–47. https://pomeps.org/pomeps-studies-54-america-and-the-middle-east[vii] Wittes, T. C. (2007, March 22). American hegemony: Myth and reality. The Brookings Institution. Retrieved June 26, 2025, from https://www.brookings.edu/articles/american-hegemony-myth-and-reality/[viii] Bello, W. (2024). Overextension and Globalization: The Dynamics of Hegemonic Decline. Critical Sociology. https://doi.org/10.1177/08969205241266982[ix] Asuquo-Ekpo, B. (2024). China’s Economic, Military, Science and Technological Emergence in International Politics: Implications for United States’ Hegemony. World Journal Of Advanced Research and Reviews, 22(3), 804–814. https://doi.org/10.30574/wjarr.2024.22.3.1791[x]Lau, J. (2023). American Imperialism (pp. 185–194). Routledge eBooks. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003121800-20[xi] Rashid, A., & Khuhro, A. A. (2023). Historical Insights of Global Power Transitions: Implications on US-China Relations. Perennial Journal of History, 4(2), 68–87. https://doi.org/10.52700/pjh.v4i2.156[xii] Cartwright, M. (2024). Embedded hegemony and the evolution of the United States’ structural power. International Relations. https://doi.org/10.1177/00471178241268418[xiii] Sen, O. F. (2024). Challenges to the American dollar hegemony. https://doi.org/10.32469/10355/106100[xiv] Knauft, B. M. (2007). Provincializing America: Imperialism, Capitalism, and Counterhegemony in the Twenty-first Century. Current Anthropology, 48(6), 781–805. https://doi.org/10.1086/521415[xv] Nuridah, I., Aulia, T., Aulia Sahada, N., Rodiyah, Z., Ndruru, S., Simangunsong, W. H., Rila, E. S., & Tampubolon, Y. L. (2024). Amerika Serikat sebagai Negara Adikuasa: Pengaruh dan Dominasi dari Akhir Abad ke-20 hingga Awal Abad ke-21. 1(3), 157–161. https://doi.org/10.57251/polyscopia.v1i3.1368[xvi] A global Europe: leveraging our power and partnership. (n.d.). European Commission, A Global Europe. Retrieved June 30, 2025, from https://commission.europa.eu/priorities-2024-2029/global-europe_en[xvii] European Commission (2025, April 14). Commission announces multiannual programme for Palestinian recovery and resilience worth up to €1.6 billion. European Commission, Press Release. https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/ip_25_1055[xviii] European Union (n.d.). EU support for Ukraine. European Union. Retrieved June 30, 2025, from https://european-union.europa.eu/priorities-and-actions/eu-support-ukraine_en[xix] European Commission (2025, April 4). Joint press release on the EU-Central Asia Summit. European Commission. https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/ip_25_983[xx] European Commission (2025, July 5). EU and Singapore sign landmark digital trade agreement. European Commission. https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/ip_25_1152[xxi] European Council, Council of the Union (2025, July 5). EU trade agreements. European Council. https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/policies/trade-agreements/[xxii] Merritt, G. (2023, October 3). Global Europe 1: The EU’s path to super-power status. Friends of Europe. https://www.friendsofeurope.org/insights/frankly-speaking-global-europe-1-the-eus-path-to-super-power-status/[xxiii] Lehne, S. (2024, March 21). The EU and the Global Battle of Narratives. Carnegie Europe. https://carnegieendowment.org/research/2024/03/the-eu-and-the-global-battle-of-narratives?lang=en¢er=europe[xxiv] Merritt, G. (2023, October 3). Global Europe 1: The EU’s path to super-power status. Friends of Europe. https://www.friendsofeurope.org/insights/frankly-speaking-global-europe-1-the-eus-path-to-super-power-status/[xxv] Lehne, S. (2024, March 21). The EU and the Global Battle of Narratives. Carnegie Europe. https://carnegieendowment.org/research/2024/03/the-eu-and-the-global-battle-of-narratives?lang=en¢er=europe[xxvi] European Commission (2022, July 18). Team Europe’s Official Development Assistance reaches €70.2 billion in 2021. European Commission. https://ec.europa.eu/commission/presscorner/detail/en/ip_22_4532[xxvii] European Council, Council of the Union (2025, June 30). EU migration and asylum policy. European Council, Council of the European Union. https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/policies/eu-migration-policy/[xxviii] European Council, Council of the Union (2024, May 14). The Council adopts the EU’s pact on migration and asylum. European Council, Council of the European Union. https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/press/press-releases/2024/05/14/the-council-adopts-the-eu-s-pact-on-migration-and-asylum/[xxix] The Diplomatic Service of the European Union (2024, January 23). Disinformation and Foreign Interference: Speech by High Representative/Vice-President Josep Borrell at the EEAS Conference. European Council, External Action. https://www.eeas.europa.eu/eeas/disinformation-and-foreign-interference-speech-high-representativevice-president-josep-borrell-eeas_en[xxx] Merritt, G. (2023, October 3). Global Europe 1: The EU’s path to super-power status. Friends of Europe. https://www.friendsofeurope.org/insights/frankly-speaking-global-europe-1-the-eus-path-to-super-power-status/[xxxi] Vysotska, T., & POHORILOV, S. (2025, June 30). 18th package of sanctions against Russia being blocked not only by Slovakia, but also by Hungary. Ukrainska Pravda 25. https://www.pravda.com.ua/eng/news/2025/06/30/7519420/[xxxii] Zubek, M., & Gora, M. (2021, June). Revamping the EU Approach Towards the Neighbouring and Enlargement Countries. Differentiation and EU Foreign Policy. 10th Conference of the SGEU, Virtual Event, 10 - 12 June 2021. https://ecpr.eu/Events/Event/PaperDetails/49470[xxxiii] Gowayed, H. (2024, August 12). Borders and the Exchange of Humans for Debt. IN THESE TIMES. https://inthesetimes.com/article/borders-exchange-humans-debt-asylum-global-south

Defense & Security
Military bombs and ammunition in front of a waving European Union flag

A European way of war: Towards doctrine to defend against Russia, without the US

by Garvan Walshe

Abstract Recent changes in US foreign policy and strategic posture have forced Europe to think about meeting its security needs without US support. One issue that requires a particular focus is the question of how to deter and defend against Russia in a conventional war. This article attempts a high-level assessment of European military capability and considers whether existing military doctrine is adequate. It argues that Europe should maintain its focus on NATO’s manoeuvrist mode of war fighting and identifies key capability gaps that need to be filled for (a) a coalition of the willing and (b) Europe as a whole to be able to fight in this way. It cautions against an unduly defensive, attritional method of fighting, based on conscript armies, as playing to Russia’s strengths instead of our own. Introduction War has come back to Europe and so has the need to think about how to fight it. Between 24 February 2022 and 21 January 2024, we put the need to rethink our defence to one side, because the Biden administration allowed us the luxury of being able to repurpose Cold War institutions (most obviously NATO), deterrence and habits to support Ukraine and dissuade Russia from another overt attack. This was a mixed blessing, because while it saved us the need to put our societies and economies on a war footing, it also blinded us to the need to build something new. The old system was not the best to contend with Russia’s aggression. While the US had only half an eye on Europe—with the rest of its focus on China—Western Europeans continued to free-ride on American resources. Neither Germany’s Zeitenwende, nor the aspersion cast by Emanuel Macron that ‘NATO is brain-dead’ (Macron 2019) translated into larger defence budgets, increased orders for ammunition, the conversion of civilian manufacturing to military use or the running of plants in shifts to replenish stockpiles. Only the Nordics, Baltics and Poland really moved to a war footing, and even their restructuring suffered from a desire, exposed as wishful thinking by Trump’s victory in November 2024, to keep the US involved. Now, with the US being led by an unstable pro-Russian Donald Trump and an anti-European JD Vance, the choice has been made for us. Steps are already being taken to prepare Europe’s industrial base, whether it is the creation of a European defence commissioner, Germany’s removal of its debt brake or initiatives such as the EU’s proposed Security Action for Europe (SAFE) financing instrument. But our political elite also needs to educate itself beyond these industrial and economic matters. War has once again become an essential part of what every responsible political leader needs to know. As it had been until 1945, if not 1989, some understanding of the military arts has, unfortunately, again become indispensable for European statespeople. This article will start by outlining certain concepts to help inform our debate about how we defend ourselves against Russia. It will relate them to the state of our military equipment, and pose questions about how we should fight with what we have, and how we should make more of what we need to fight in the way that gives us the maximum advantage over Russia. It will ask what elements of the existing NATO way of war should be kept, and which ought to be replaced, as a new European way of war—a European ‘doctrine’—is developed. And it will identify the key gaps in capability that need to be filled to apply such a doctrine in two scenarios: one where most of Europe confronts Russia (excluding neutrals, such as Ireland or Austria; potentially hostile states, such as Hungary and Slovakia; and Greece and Turkey, which deploy military resources to deter a conflict between themselves), and another where the burden is taken up by a coalition of the willing. This coalition is drawn up narrowly to constitute the Nordic–Baltic Eight (NB8),1 the UK, Poland and Ukraine. Other countries, for example, Czechia and the Netherlands, would currently be considered part of this coalition, but their contributions have, conservatively, been excluded for the purpose of this assessment. This article does not assume that the European military effort should replicate the American one (for the cost of replication, see Wolff 2025). Instead it seeks to assess how Europe would deter and defeat Russia in ways that exploit our advantages against the Russian military. We do not need to replace the Americans one-for-one, but nor should we replicate Russia’s relatively low-technology and low-skill warfare. That would be to give up the strongest advantages our free and technologically advanced societies provide. Centre of gravity The first concept we need to outline is the ‘centre of gravity’: the phrase, whose application to war we owe to Clausewitz (1918, 270), refers to that feature of a belligerent that will cause it to change its behaviour when subject to pressure. The aim of military strategy, he argued, was not necessarily the destruction of the enemy’s forces, still less their population, but the application of force to their centre of gravity in order to achieve your war aim. With this in view, the most important question for European military planners is, where is Putin’s, or Russia’s, centre of gravity? This question will occupy our strategists’ minds for the foreseeable future: its answer includes determining whether it is Putin, or some other group in the Russian elite, such as the military, energy producers or business oligarchs, on whom pressure should be applied, and if so what pressure is required. Under what conditions would Putin sue for peace, or be replaced by someone who would, if Russia extended its war to conventional military aggression against Europe? Only once these conditions have been identified, is it then relevant to ask how they might be brought about. This consideration of centre of gravity begs an important question: how is Russia to be deterred from attacking Europe? How can sufficiently severe consequences be imposed on Russia, bearing in mind that the loss of almost 400 aircraft (Minfin.com.ua 2025) and several thousand tanks, and close to a million men killed and wounded have not been enough to push Putin to retreat from Ukraine? It is, however, necessary to pose this question, because there is a temptation to avoid it by focusing on ‘deterrence by denial’. This idea would be to defend ourselves in the manner in which the Chinese are thought to defend themselves against the US: by preventing US forces from landing in China by attacking its large, expensive ships. This does not apply to the Russian case for two reasons: first, Russia is willing to sacrifice men and equipment in human-wave assaults; the only equipment it seems to have decided to preserve is its air force. Second, Russia has a land border with Europe, so it does not need to attack using small numbers of vulnerable ships. Denial is extremely difficult against human-wave attacks, as US forces found in Korea, and Iraqis found in the Iran–Iraq war when revolutionary Iran employed them. (See Meyer zum Felde 2024 for a deterrence by denial–focused approach.) Order of battle A second concept is the ‘order of battle’: what are the forces arranged on either side of a conflict and how do they measure up to each other? As well as military units, it is worthwhile also considering the broader elements of societal strength—economic, political and cultural—that each side has, and how these contribute to the war effort. For example, our open societies leave us more vulnerable to hybrid attacks and disinformation, but on the other hand supply great strength and flexibility. Democratic societies do not wait for the government to tell them what to do, but organise social defence in ways that dictatorships find more difficult; the market economy possesses enormous flexibility that centrally planned systems do not; and an entrepreneurial can-do culture can also produce superior military performance through the concept of ‘mission command’ (see below). But the first question is who would be fighting? Sometimes pieces are written as if it would only be Britain and France confronting Russia (Barker et al. 2025), but borders have shifted since the Cold War: Eastern Europe, including the highly capable Polish and Finnish militaries, as well, of course, as Europe’s strongest army, Ukraine’s, would be arrayed against Moscow, not operating under its orders. Europe’s total military-age population is considerably greater than Russia’s. If Austria, Hungary, Ireland and Slovakia are excluded for political reasons, and Greece and Turkey as well, because they will wish to preserve resources in case a conflict breaks out between them, ‘Europe’ has 89.5 million military-age men and 88 million military-age women, compared to Russia’s 31 million military-age men and 33 million military-age women.2 The question of how such forces are recruited and generated, particularly in the economically more successful parts of Europe, is of course relevant, but the sheer capacity to provide sufficient personnel is not in doubt. It is useful to consider the matter of mobilisation. Russia was in transition from a conscript to a professional army when it launched its attack on Ukraine. It still mobilises 160,000 men per year, mostly to fill rearguard positions and free up front-line deployment for professional troops. This is equivalent to 17% of the annual cohort of young men.3 Europe (as defined above) could generate similar forces without much difficulty. A one-year cohort of the European population includes 2.7 million men and 2.5 million women. Even if it limited itself to calling up men, it would only need to recruit 6% of the population. Such a number would be feasible with a voluntary reserve service programme, and would not require universal conscription. Considering the countries most at risk of Russian aggression, and most likely to need to defend against it, presents a starker picture. The NB8 plus Poland and the UK between them have an annual cohort of 7.7 million men and 7.3 million women. If the male population of these countries took part in military service at the same rate as Russians, this would generate 130,000 personnel, requiring an additional 30,000 female personnel to match Russian numbers. This would require a female reserve participation rate of 4%, which is an achievable figure. For example, at least 25% of Norway’s annual conscription quota comprises women. Despite a recent surge in calls to reintroduce universal military service in Europe, this is not necessarily advisable in all countries. Training a large cohort of conscripts takes resources away from exercises and advanced training for professional officers. While it may be justified for small nations on the front line, it is not the best use of resources for larger countries. The required manpower needs can in most cases be met by a selective reserve system. European stocks of platforms (as distinct from ammunition stocks, which are dangerously low) are also not outrageously out of balance with the requirement for a mission against Russia, though this is partly due to Ukraine’s destruction of Russian equipment since 2022. The following (table 1) compares stocks of fighter jets, main battle tanks and artillery pieces across several groups of European countries (some including Ukraine) versus Russia. This analysis is necessarily somewhat crude, as it excludes infantry fighting vehicles, mortars and other equipment. It also completely sets aside analysis of naval forces. Its fighter aircraft figures comprise fourth-generation fighters, old fighters (predating the fourth generation or the Warsaw Pact) and F35s.4 Finally, these figures do not take future production (either European or Russian) or the evolution of land and air drones into account (International Institute for Strategic Studies 2024).   Source: International Institute for Strategic Studies (2024). Note: This table compares the main platforms (fighter jets, main battle tanks and artillery pieces, including rocket artillery) that various European countries have at their disposal. Countries are placed in different categories and then compared against Russia. Each category also appears in two variants: one including Ukraine, and one that does not include Ukrainian forces. The ‘NB8+ coalition’ is the NB8 plus the UK and Poland. Non-neutral Europe means EU members plus the UK and Norway, but minus Ireland, Austria, Hungary and Slovakia. Using this table one can see, for example, that the NB8+ coalition has 542 fewer fighter jets at its disposal than Russia but essentially the same number of main battle tanks. With the exception of the scenario in which only the NB8+ coalition and Ukraine face off against Russia, Europe currently has approximately the required numbers of platforms to resist a Russian attack (bearing in mind a deficit in artillery pieces if Ukraine is not included). This leads to the following conclusions: • Ukraine needs to be considered an integral part of European defence against Russia, and its defeat would allow Russia to focus its forces on EU territory.• The coalition faces a notable air-power shortage in confronting Russia. While it has enough planes to deter Russian use of its aerospace, it does not have sufficient equipment to attempt to establish air superiority.• At an overall European level the priority should not be buying new platforms. Platform acquisition should be part of any rearmament plan, but priorities should be determined by the specific needs of a campaign against Russia, with importance given to filling the key gaps needed to conduct such a campaign. Platforms, ammunition and network-centric warfare The analysis above is only a first approximation of military strength. It considers only equipment and mobilisation potential, rather than force generation, and concentrates on land and air forces, setting aside the navy because a Euro-Russian conventional war would largely be fought on land. (The air force calculations do include naval aviation equipment, however, as these could be brought to bear). It also deals only with the main ‘platforms’: main battle tanks, fighter planes and artillery pieces, ignoring armoured personnel carriers and infantry fighting vehicles, engineering and support equipment, and, most importantly, ammunition. Simply replicating Russian numbers of platforms without considering communications, software and unmanned systems risks equipping ourselves to fight the last war (Tallis 2025). The spectrum that runs between a platform, which serves to move weapons systems into a place where they can be fired, and a piece of ammunition, fired from a platform, is another dimension of analysis. For example, during the Second World War the distinction was clear: an artillery shell was ammunition; an artillery piece a platform. But how should one categorise a cruise missile, which could be launched from a plane (so it appears to be ammunition launched from a platform), or directly from land, in which case it could arguably be a platform on its own? What is the difference between a cruise missile and a long-range drone? The war in Ukraine has seen the rapid development of short-range single-use drones that behave, in some ways, like super-intelligent artillery shells; and actual shells have incorporated guidance systems, and even propulsion systems, so that they have become what are known as ‘loitering munitions’. The point here is that strength is not just measured by platforms, but by the things that can be delivered to the battlefield with them (or independently of them), and an assessment of military strength needs to include an understanding of stocks of ammunition, the ability to replenish it and to fire it at where it is needed. This brings us to the idea of networks. War has always given the advantage to the side that could bring force to bear in a coordinated fashion while itself avoiding being the target of a coordinated enemy attack. The latest iteration of this is known as ‘network-centric warfare’, which, in its ideal form, means that every participant in the battle, from planes and ships all the way down to individual soldiers and drones can observe the ‘battlespace’ and communicate information about it to the right layer of command. Using this information, commanders, assisted by artificial intelligence, can decide where ‘effect’ is to be concentrated to bring about maximum damage to the enemy, more quickly than it can cause damage. This capability is not necessarily confined to the most expensive high-tech armies. Ukraine has shown how off-the-shelf electronic components can be added to existing systems to improve them (for example, to allow its artillery to concentrate fire on a single target despite the artillery systems themselves being dispersed). Precision If in the popular imagination precision weapons are used mainly to reduce collateral damage (and this was indeed their main use during the campaigns against terrorist groups in the first two decades of this century), in high-intensity war their advantage is that they conserve resources and time. Even if an individual precision artillery shell is more expensive, it is more useful to be able to use one or two guided shells to hit a target than 30 or 40 unguided ones. Not only is less ammunition used, but fewer troops are needed to operate it, and the wear and tear on the artillery pieces is considerably less. Precision results in greater ‘effect’ from the inputs to the process. Though sometimes presented as its opposite, precision should be understood as a way of delivering ‘mass’; this concept, also from Clausewitz (1918, 98), refers to the quantity of force that can be brought to bear against an enemy at a particular time. It matters because fighting is not a continuous linear process where the amount of force one applies has an effect in proportion to its quantity—in war having more power at one place at the right time means you will win the battle and the enemy will be weaker for the next one. The slightly stronger force can often inflict damage on the weaker one in a way that is disproportionate to the difference in their strength. To take a simple example for the purposes of illustration, suppose we start with 100 tanks, and so do they. Thanks to our commander’s skill we are able to concentrate 50 of our tanks against 40 of theirs. We lose 10 tanks, they lose 35. Now we have 90 tanks, they have 65. In this example our ability to get those extra 10 tanks in the right place has given us an advantage that can be pressed further in the next battle. It is these facts that underpin the approach that NATO, and the West more broadly, has applied to fighting. Although Western democracies have been able, due to their superior economic systems and technological advantage, to outproduce their enemies, winning a war of attrition is not where they consider their advantage to come from. Instead they emphasise their speed of movement and thought, and their ability to confuse their enemies, tricking them into dividing or misdirecting their forces, and then pouncing at the right moment; this is the ‘manoeuvrist’ creed of war, in which we fight smart and overcome the enemy by more than brute force. It is important not to draw the distinction between attrition and manoeuvre too crudely. Manoeuvre warfare is easier when you have more and better kit, and your leaders are informed by better intelligence obtained through technological as well as human sources. It also takes advantage of the characteristics of free societies. Manoeuvre warfare is strengthened by ‘mission command’: the notion that subordinate officers are given the ability to decide exactly how to fulfil their orders. This gives Western militaries a flexibility that is absent from the armies of dictatorships, in which such freedom is rarely granted,5 but of course this depends on officers and soldiers being sufficiently well-trained, and possessing a good enough level of general education, to operate independently. It is the best way for us, as free and well-educated peoples, to fight—it is not necessarily the best for everyone. A manoeuvrist force, is, as the name suggests, on the move. It is constantly advancing, communicating its changing position, attempting to bypass and confuse the enemy. It operates at a high tempo in order to overwhelm the enemy mentally as well as physically, and the ability to sustain this type of fighting informs training, equipment command and intelligence: ‘the key to winning battles is to have greater forces at the key location than does the enemy. The trick is to outwit the enemy and thus out-concentrate him at the right time’ (Warden 1998, 79). This matters for learning the right lessons from Ukraine’s fight for survival. Ukraine has only been able to master some of the lessons of manoeuvrist warfare. It has been hampered by its limited capacity in the air, which slows it down and makes it hard to break Russian lines except with artillery and long-range fire (such as the famous HIMARS rockets). It is in transition from Soviet- to Western-style command. But it has also shown tremendous capacity to innovate, particularly in its use of drones to hold a defensive line. Ukraine’s tremendous first-person drone capacity allows it to stop Russian attacks while risking far fewer troops (drone operators work behind the lines, where they are at much lower risk than the men in the trenches) and even compensate for artillery.6 These principles feed into NATO’s existing doctrine (NATO 2022), which involves identifying the enemy’s centre of gravity, achieving air superiority to deliver firepower against its command and control nodes, and then overcoming its disoriented forces at speed. It relies on synthesising intelligence through networks of sensors and exploiting the information they provide to deploy massed precision against them. Such operations, however, require certain capabilities that depend on equipment and structures provided mostly by the US. The first of these is NATO’s command structure. NATO’s armies have a single command structure that conducts exercises together. At the top is the Supreme Allied Commander (American) and the Deputy Supreme Allied Commander (European). American units are integrated throughout the force structure. European forces will need to plan, exercise and be ready to fight without these American elements—it is not merely a matter of detaching them. The second is the intelligence and planning capability to carry out those war plans and adapt to the evolving battle. These integrate intelligence gathered from sensors, satellites and human sources, and artificial intelligence is increasingly involved in its processing as extremely large amounts of data must be handled quickly and secretly. As well as certain sensors (satellites and aircraft), the US’s processing software is also vital here, though Europeans have equivalent capabilities at reduced scale. Third are the sensors, software and missiles needed to suppress enemy air defences (SEAD). SEAD missions are a prerequisite for establishing air superiority against adversaries that possess sophisticated air defence systems, such as Russia. Indeed, the failure of Russia’s SEAD missions in Ukraine, and Ukraine’s ability to deter Russian aviation, may also indicate that an effective air defence is easier to mount than had been thought.7 Europe, however, currently lacks the ability to make the latest generation of anti-radiation missiles (which target enemy radar) essential to the success of SEAD. India’s poor performance against Pakistan, where it appears to have attempted to conduct deep strikes against its rival without conducting SEAD, underlines the importance of these capabilities (Economist 2025). It will take some years to develop them, and this needs to be prioritised. A full discussion of the requirements for successful SEAD against Russia can be found in Bronk and Watling (2025). Finally there is the question of Russia’s nuclear threats. Though the UK and France possess ‘strategic’ nuclear arsenals, these, because they threaten the complete destruction of the world, can only credibly deter the most extreme sort of attack. Russia and the US both have low-yield or ‘tactical’ nuclear weapons, and Russia has regularly threatened to use them. These threats would significantly complicate elements of a European campaign to deter Russia, which might involve actions such as seizing Kaliningrad or advancing from Finland towards the environs of St Petersburg. Europe needs the ability to restrict Russia to conventional weapons in such circumstances. Though such deterrence does not have to be supplied using tactical nuclear weapons of our own (Hoffmann 2021), these would be the most straightforward instrument for this purpose. As the UK’s nuclear weapons systems are submarine launched (and use American missiles), France’s arsenal would have to be expanded to provide this capability, and be able to be deployed closer to the front as, for example, Donald Tusk has hinted.8 Conclusion and recommendations Fighting without the Americans does not necessarily mean we need to replace exactly what they used to supply. Instead we need to understand the mission required, which is to deter Russia by credibly showing how Russian forces would be defeated, in the field, should Putin attempt to attack us. In an ideal world this credible threat would cause the military to remove Putin should he attempt further adventurism against Europe, but we cannot rely on such an eventuality. This means that we have to think carefully about how we would fight and sustain political support for a major European war. The good news is that provided that the bulk of Europe is willing to contribute, we have the resources and equipment needed to defeat Russia. Upgrades, in particular in SEAD capability and tactical nuclear weapons, need to be made, but they are not out of reach. In addition, we have a solid basis in military doctrine that can be used to organise a campaign that takes advantage of our military cultures and technological lead. The less good news is that the countries that can be guaranteed to make up a ‘coalition of the willing’ (the NB8 plus Poland, the UK and Ukraine) would currently struggle to mount an offensive campaign on their own. They would, in particular, struggle to field a sufficiently large air force to win air superiority over Russia, though they have enough aircraft to deny Russia air superiority of its own. This would limit their ability to put manoeuvrist doctrine into practice, and, notwithstanding advances in drone warfare pioneered by the Ukrainians, could cause them to fall back to static defence and attritional warfare, as illustrated by the proposed Baltic Defence Line. Such an approach would stretch the human resources of a coalition of the willing extremely thin. It is perhaps ironic that Europe as a whole could win a war of attrition against Russia, but it also would not have to, as it could prosecute a campaign of manoeuvre against the Russian military and Putin’s state. Accordingly my recommendations are laid out below. Europe should focus on what it needs to defeat Russia, rather than what would be required to replace the American commitment to NATO. Nevertheless, it should not, as a whole, revert to using conscript-based armies designed to fight a war of attrition against Russia. These give up the greatest advantages of technologically advanced free societies and would leave us fighting the kind of war Russia would want us to fight. Certain small front-line states might need to make different calculations. Universal military service might be required so that they can, in extremis, mount a defensive campaign—for example, if Finland and the Baltic states were required to fight on their own without support from European allies. This highly extreme scenario is sufficiently unlikely that it should not form the basis of other countries’ military planning. The core ‘coalition of the willing’—the Nordic countries, the Baltic states, plus Poland, the UK and Ukraine—could defend themselves against Russia, and with some effort would be able to conduct an offensive campaign to bring about Russian defeat. They would need, however, to make important improvements to their defence. The coalition would require an integrated command structure and a programme of exercises. The expansion of the UK-led Joint Expeditionary Force and the UK’s command headquarters would be a suitable nucleus for such capability. The coalition would face a manpower deficit compared to Russia, and matching Russian mobilised reserve levels would be a challenge. The coalition could, however, match Russian mobilisation levels with a Swedish- or Norwegian-style selective military service programme for young men and women (it could achieve sufficient coverage for defensive purposes by recruiting 16% of men and 6% of women each year). The coalition is also severely short of aircraft with which to pursue an air superiority campaign against Russia. Though it would fare better than Ukraine on its own, increasing the size of the coalition’s air forces must be a priority, and the risk of over-dependence on the F35 needs to be considered. Though ‘kill switches’ are a myth, a sovereign spare parts supply chain (as Finland is creating) and sovereign intelligence software (as used by Israel) are required to reduce the risk of US unreliability. The coalition would also need to consider replacing the F35’s intelligence and command capabilities with replacements that could operate on European aircraft, such as the Gripen or Rafale. The lack of stealth capability would also hamper the coalition’s air forces until a sixth-generation fighter could be developed. Europe as a whole has forces of the necessary scale to conduct operations against Russia. Its shortfalls in ammunition production and inefficiencies due to the diversity of its equipment have been covered elsewhere. Some inefficiency is likely to persist as long as Europe remains a relatively decentralised continent, but it is likely to be better to bear the extra cost now, than waste time with the ambitious political integration projects required to eliminate it quickly. Europe as a whole would need to develop its own command structure. At this level it may be possible to repurpose NATO’s Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE) using the Berlin Plus process, though care would need to be taken to avoid a potentially hostile US, as well as unfriendly NATO members, such as Hungary, blocking operations. As urgent as ammunition production (a category that includes missiles as well as artillery) is the manufacture of equipment to conduct SEAD campaigns. Reviving European capacity to produce anti-radiation missiles and in intelligence capability to uncover targets for them should be a matter of the highest priority. The final priority area is the expansion of Europe’s tactical nuclear capability. Though the French and British strategic arsenals can provide the ultimate deterrence against Russia, tactical, or low-yield, weapons are needed to deter Russia from threatening European forces with its tactical nuclear weapons. As the British programme is not suitable, these would have to be based on the French programme, and questions related to how this expansion would be paid for, and how tactical nuclear use would be authorised, would need to be addressed. Footnotes1. Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Estonia, Lithuania and Latvia.2. These estimates are based on Eurostat data for the EU member states, the Office for National Statistics population projections for the UK and the most recent available data for Russia, which is based on UN data not currently available but which have been reported on Wikipedia. The Russian data are from 2012, so these overestimate Russian demographic strength slightly. The military age calculation aggregates the standard five-year demographic groups between 20 and 49. Obviously a military may mobilise younger and older people as well, but the comparison remains valid.3. In this case, by taking the 10-year sample of 15–24-year-olds and dividing it by 10 to smooth out fluctuations. Again, because of declining Russian demographics (even without accounting for losses due to the war), this is likely to be an underestimate of the proportion mobilised (because the total number of 18-year-old men is lower than the statistics indicate).4. F35s are easily the most advanced fighter available, and the only one reliably able to penetrate Russian air defences before suppression of enemy air defence missions have been accomplished. The deterioration in relations with the US, however, poses questions about the ongoing reliability of the supply chain associated with them. Though ‘kill-switches’ are a myth, European countries will need to maintain their own spare parts supply and software upgrade path if they are to gain the most out of the aircraft in the long run. Finland, for example, is establishing its own sovereign spare parts supply, and Israel has a sovereign software intelligence solution on its F35s.5. An exception was the Wehrmacht, which inherited mission command from the Prussian Army; however, its generals found themselves micromanaged by Hitler, which (fortunately) affected their performance.6. These small drones are very different from those deployed in the early stages of the war such as the Bayraktar TB2 or Western drones such as the Reaper. They are much closer to ammunition than platforms, and (in good weather, at least) replace artillery or close air support.7. It could also indicate that Russian aviation is not as good as had been thought, but it would be dangerous to plan on that assumption.8. Author’s conversation with a Polish official who wished to remain anonymous.ReferencesBarker K., Smialek J., Erlanger S. (2025). Europe prepares to face Russia as Trump’s America steps back. New York Times, 24 February.Bronk J., Watling J. (2025). Rebalancing joint fires to deter Russia. Royal United Services Institute Occasional Paper. London, 15 April. https://static.rusi.org/rebalancing-european-joint-fires-to-deter-russia.pdf. Accessed 15 April 2025.Clausewitz K. von. (1918). On War. Trans. Graham J. J. (London: K. Paul Trench, Trubner & Co.)Dalaaker A. (2017). Statement by Norway on gender equality in the military – universal conscription. Organisation for Co-operation and Security in Europe. 8 March. https://www.osce.org/files/f/documents/b/9/304861.pdf. Accessed 9 April 2025.Economist. (2025). Chinese weapons gave Pakistan a new edge against India. 15 May. https://www.economist.com/asia/2025/05/15/chinese-weapons-gave-pakistan-a-new-edge-against-india. Accessed 16 May 2025.Hackett M., Nagl J. (2024). A long hard year. Russia–Ukraine war lessons learned 2023. Parameters, 54(3), 41–52.Hoffmann F. (2021). Strategic non-nuclear weapons and strategic stability – promoting trust through technical understanding. Fondation pour la recherche strategique. https://frstrategie.org/sites/default/files/documents/programmes/Programme TNP - P5/2021/202103.pdf. Accessed 9 April 2025.International Institute for Strategic Studies. (2024). The military balance. London: Routledge.Meyer zum Felde R. (2024). Kann sich Europa konventionell gegen eine militärische Bedrohung durch Russland behaupten? Sirius, 8(3), 267–83.Minfin.com.ua. (2025). Casualties of the Russian troops in Ukraine. Updated daily. https://index.minfin.com.ua/en/russian-invading/casualties/. Accessed 5 March 2025.Nagl J., Crombe K. (2024). A call to action: Lessons from Ukraine for the future force. Carlisle, PA: US Army War College Press.NATO. (2022). Allied joint doctrine. December. https://www.gov.uk/government/collections/allied-joint-publication-ajp. Accessed 9 April 2025.Tallis B. (2025). Emerging defence: Offset and competitive strategies for Europe. Democratic Strategy Initiative. https://www.democratic-strategy.net/_files/ugd/dcfff6_ca54854b6dc7499e829a5fa4d7b01b74.pdf. Accessed 16 March 2025.Warden J. (1998). The air campaign: Planning for combat. Washington, DC: National Defence University Press.Wolff G., Burlikov A. (2025). Defending Europe without the US: First estimates of what is needed. Bruegel, 21 February. https://www.bruegel.org/analysis/defending-europe-without-us-first-estimates-what-needed. Accessed 9 April 2025.

Diplomacy
Xi Jinping with Ursula von der Leyen and Antonio Costa (July 2025)

25th EU-China Summit in Beijing

by Johann C. Fuhrmann , Dr. Olaf Wientzek , Jonas Nitschke

A Sobering Anniversary Fifty years of diplomatic relations – and little to celebrate: The 25th EU-China Summit, held in Beijing on July 24, was overshadowed by deep disagreements. From trade disputes to China’s stance on Russia’s war in Ukraine, expectations on both sides were low. While there were symbolic gestures and limited agreements on climate and critical minerals, the meeting highlighted more divergence than convergence. Xi Jinping appeared self-assured; the EU delegation emphasized clarity and unity – but left without substantive concessions. Abstract: The 25th EU-China Summit marked a symbolic milestone – 50 years of diplomatic relations – yet took place in an atmosphere of growing mistrust and confrontation. Geopolitical tensions, an ever-growing trade imbalance, and China’s ongoing support for Russia’s war in Ukraine dominated the agenda. The EU delegation, led by Commission President Ursula von der Leyen and Council President António Costa, sought to recalibrate the relationship and push for concrete outcomes, particularly in trade and global security. Yet Beijing showed little willingness to make concessions. Although both sides agreed on a climate communiqué and a mechanism to address export restrictions on critical raw materials, progress remained limited. China framed the summit as a platform for global cooperation, while the EU left with a renewed sense of caution. Still, the in-person dialogue – the first since 2023 – was seen as diplomatically necessary. For Brussels, the message was clear: without a shift in China’s geopolitical posture, especially towards Russia, meaningful improvement in relations remains elusive. 1. Background The fundamental importance of the relationship was repeatedly emphasized in the run-up to the summit; the EU and China account for nearly 30 percent of global trade in goods and services. Even though there was a slight decline in 2024, bilateral trade still amounted to over 700 billion euros. China is the EU’s second-largest trading partner after the United States.[1] At the same time, discordant tones have increased in recent years: the flooding of the European market with subsidized goods from China, the resulting growing trade imbalance between the two sides, the limitation of market access for European goods, as well as export restrictions on rare earths, are causing dissatisfaction on the European side. While Brussels initially proclaimed at the start of the first von der Leyen Commission that China was—depending on the topic—a partner, competitor, or rival, in recent years the focus has increasingly shifted to competition and rivalry—also due to concerns about excessive dependence on Beijing. The EU’s decision to impose countervailing duties on electric vehicles, in turn, triggered corresponding reactions from China. Politically as well, China’s de facto support for Russia in the war of aggression against Ukraine has significantly changed the EU’s perception of China over the past three years—not to mention concerns about China’s actions toward Taiwan, its support for authoritarian regimes around the world, and its attempts to increasingly shape and shift the discourse in multilateral organizations in its own favor. The statement made in June by Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi that China could not afford a Russian defeat, as this would mean that the USA and its Western allies would then turn their attention to Asia[2], reinforced the conviction in Brussels that China supports Russia in the conflict not only in words but also in deeds. Just a few days before the summit, the EU imposed sanctions on Chinese banks for violations of sanctions against Russia, to which China responded with threats of retaliatory measures.[3] In the weeks leading up to the summit, little suggested a resolution to these points of contention. The tougher stance taken by Washington toward both sides in recent months also did not lead to a reduction in dissonance. At the same time, the EU finds itself increasingly under pressure to navigate a balancing act between the strategic interests of the USA and China. China is courting with investments in favor of more “strategic autonomy,” while the USA is pushing for a hard line against Beijing, for example through export controls on critical raw materials. At the G7 summit in Canada, President von der Leyen accused China of using its dominance in raw materials as a weapon against competitors.[4] Beijing rejected the criticism. In Brussels, the fight against climate change is seen as the only somewhat consensual topic, although in the field of green tech—such as electric vehicles or photovoltaics—China is a competitor that challenges the EU. As the controversial vote on tariffs for electric vehicles also showed, EU member states are not always united when it comes to China.[5] Some primarily view China as an important economic partner, others struggle with China’s punitive tariffs, still others see the country as an authoritarian center of gravity that, through support for Russia or through cyberattacks, threatens their own security. Most recently, alongside Hungary—which has been regarded for years as one of Beijing’s closest partners in the EU—the socialist government of Spain also stood out with a charm offensive toward China. The difficulties in the relationship with China have prompted the EU—especially in the new legislative term—to noticeably diversify its economic and political foreign relations: directly before the EU-China summit, closer cooperation was agreed with Japan—also with the goal of reducing strategic dependence on China.[6] 2. Expectations for the Summit On the Chinese side, expectations for the summit were limited from the outset—at least in terms of making their own concessions. In its official communications, Beijing adopted an unusually sharp tone in the lead-up. The spokesperson of the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Guo Jiakun, warned the EU not to harm the interests of Chinese companies. Otherwise, China would take measures to protect their rights. At the same time, Guo criticized the new EU sanctions against Russia, which also affect Chinese banks. The normal exchange between Chinese and Russian companies must not be disrupted. Beijing continues to reject the EU’s formula “partner, competitor, systemic rival”—as well as, from the Chinese perspective, unfounded accusations related to the war in Ukraine.[7] This clear defensive posture is also reflected in the public debate. In state-controlled social media, the summit was sometimes mockingly commented on in advance: the Europeans, it was said, would be begging for rare earths on their knees while a strong China benevolently dictated the rules of the game. This self-portrayal reflects a growing sense of self-confidence in Beijing—and at the same time sends a signal: China does not see itself as a supplicant, but as a shaper. Specifically, Beijing hopes for a withdrawal of the new EU import tariffs on Chinese electric vehicles, for which, according to the Chinese side, they are in the final stages of “price negotiations.” From the perspective of European officials, however, the process has been stagnating for months. Further points of friction lie in China’s response to European sanctions—such as the recent imposition of punitive tariffs on French cognac and new restrictions on the procurement of medical equipment. The looming action against European milk and pork exports also fits into this pattern. At the same time, Beijing highlights the fruits of decades of cooperation: bilateral trade has grown from 2.4 billion to nearly 786 billion US dollars over the past 50 years, and mutual investments have reached nearly 260 billion. President Xi Jinping therefore called on the EU to maintain “open cooperation.” “Decoupling” or even “building walls” would only lead to isolation, he warned. China is therefore insisting on further market access in Europe—particularly in key areas such as automobile manufacturing, high-tech, and medical technology—and sees itself increasingly discriminated against by European protective measures. The preliminary reporting on the meeting in state media, however, was predictably conciliatory. The focus was primarily on powerful imagery, portraying China as a responsible actor on the global stage. In a report by the state news agency Xinhua shortly before the summit, it was stated that the meeting offered an opportunity to “consolidate the common interests of China and Europe in a time of global upheaval.” China Daily also struck a cooperative tone on July 24 and warned against endangering the relationship “through protectionist reflexes or foreign policy proxy conflicts.” Europe, the paper said literally, must decide whether it will “continue to make independent strategic decisions—or blindly follow Washington’s course.”[8] What remains unmentioned in China’s narrative is that many of these shared goals currently exist primarily on paper. Accusations regarding competition-distorting subsidies, China’s role in the war in Ukraine, or restrictions on European companies are at best dismissed as misunderstandings. From Beijing’s perspective, the summit appeared to be primarily a diplomatic showcase—rather than a venue for tangible rapprochement. 3. Expectations of the EU Whoever on the EU side may have expected major breakthroughs in light of the anniversary was likely disillusioned by early July at the latest: the reduction of the summit, originally scheduled for two days, to just a single day was an initial dampener; the statements from Chinese ministerial officials and top EU personnel in the weeks leading up to the summit did not suggest that anything fundamental would change regarding the divergences in foreign, economic, and trade policy. The EU is seeking a rebalancing of the relationship. According to Commission President von der Leyen ahead of the summit, the relationship had reached a turning point and now required concrete solutions. Among the EU’s top priorities in the economic sphere are: the rollback of China’s punitive tariffs, measures to reduce the massive trade deficit and counter the redirection of Chinese overcapacities toward the European market, the creation of a level playing field, and export licensing requirements for critical raw materials.[9] In the weeks prior to the summit, there were no signs of Chinese willingness to accommodate any of these demands. Expectations were equally low with regard to geopolitical conflicts, even though the EU’s High Representative had again clearly appealed to China in early July to end its support for Russia. Observers no longer expected a comprehensive joint communiqué ahead of the summit; at most, a joint statement on climate policy with regard to COP30 in Belém, Brazil, was still considered possible. The prevailing opinion: the primary goal was to contain the worsening of relations. Some observers still hoped for minor progress on economic issues. At least there were some diplomatic signals from Beijing in the run-up to the EU-China summit. For example, Mikko Huotari, Director of the German think tank Merics, was allowed to travel to China for the first time in four years. Merics had been subjected to a travel ban in 2021 as part of Chinese counter-sanctions against the EU over its human rights criticism regarding Xinjiang. The lifting of sanctions against individual (former) EU parliamentarians was also interpreted in Brussels as a positive political signal.[10] However, a full lifting of the sanctions is still pending, and travel currently remains possible only under certain conditions—such as by invitation from Chinese institutions, without a guarantee of academic freedom. Observers emphasized that these relaxations were “low-cost” concessions for China. 4. Outcomes of the Summit The low expectations ahead of the summit were at least not disappointed.[11] In their choice of words before and after the summit, both sides made efforts to maintain a respectful tone. Commission President von der Leyen and European Council President Costa did address the well-known critical issues (the need for concrete solutions to recalibrate trade relations, market access for European companies, an end to China’s material support for Russia’s war), but at the same time emphasized the immense importance of the relationship, the shared responsibility for a rules-based international order, and expressed respect for China’s tremendous achievements over the past years and decades.[12] Xi Jinping, on the other hand, did not directly address the divergences between the two sides at all, but instead highlighted the importance of mutual respect, the consolidation of cooperation, an open approach to differences of opinion, and collaboration at the multilateral level. Contrary to some particularly pessimistic forecasts, there were two reasonably concrete outcomes at the summit: First, a supply mechanism for rare earth exports is to be established in order to address supply issues faced by European companies. This would allow companies to contact the EU directly to clarify the causes of delayed exports of critical raw materials.[13] It remains unclear exactly what this mechanism will look like in practice. Second, both sides agreed on a communiqué on climate policy, in which both reaffirmed their cooperation in the climate sector, including on the reduction of greenhouse gases. The communiqué expresses support for the Paris Agreement and the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change. Both sides commit to fair and effective implementation in line with national circumstances. The goal is to advance a just global climate transformation, to support Brazil at COP30, and to improve global access to green technology. By COP30, both sides agreed to present new climate targets for 2035 and to expand cooperation in areas such as the energy transition, methane reduction, and low-carbon technologies.[14] Small steps forward were also made toward closer cooperation in emissions trading, the circular economy, financial regulation, drug control, and geographical indications. A new roadmap for regional policy (2024–2029) was adopted. On the sidelines of the summit, a roundtable was also held with around sixty representatives of European and Chinese companies. In its post-summit remarks, the EU expressed concern about China’s opaque data protection rules and cyberattacks. It also voiced concern about the situation in Xinjiang, Tibet, and Hong Kong, as well as the persecution of human rights defenders. Furthermore, the EU expressed concern about tensions in the Taiwan Strait and the East and South China Seas. It rejected any unilateral violent changes to the status quo and called for peaceful solutions in accordance with international law.[15] 5. Outlook Despite all divergences, the tone in public communication remained at least respectful. However, the summit yielded hardly any tangible progress—particularly in the trade issues central to Brussels. As expected, the EU departed without any concrete commitments. Whether the announced mechanism for rare earth exports will provide substantial added value remains to be seen. From the EU's perspective, the summit confirmed one thing above all: the increasingly skeptical—at times alarmed—view of China remains unchanged. Beijing showed no willingness to make substantial concessions. Instead, the Chinese leadership demonstrated confidence and conveyed the message that it need not act in advance toward a weakened Europe. At the same time, the EU succeeded in clearly articulating key concerns—particularly the expectation that Beijing should use its influence on Moscow to enable progress toward peace negotiations. The clear message: China’s relationship with Russia will play a decisive role in future EU-China relations. One positive aspect from Brussels’ point of view: the appearances of Commission President von der Leyen, Council President Costa, and Estonian Prime Minister Kallas came across as coherent and well-coordinated—an important signal of European unity in difficult times. In addition, according to von der Leyen, the Chinese leadership has begun to address domestic industrial overcapacities under the term “involution.” The latter was regarded as another positive development from a European perspective. Until now, Chinese representatives had consistently denied in talks that the massive overcapacities posed any problem, according to media reports from EU circles.[16] Now, President Xi Jinping and Premier Li Qiang have declared their intent to counteract this trend—against what they perceive as a destructive price war in sectors such as steel, electric mobility, and solar panels. The leadership uses the term “involution” to describe the increasingly intense competition caused by price dumping. Even though some observers hailed the joint climate communiqué as a success, from the EU’s perspective it should be clear: in the field of green tech, China causes massive market distortions through state subsidies and targeted industrial policy—with the goal of creating new global dependencies. Nevertheless, it is undoubtedly important that the summit took place. One must assume that the political system in China—similar to Russia or the Trump administration—functions like an echo chamber; that Xi Jinping likely hears little internal criticism. “That’s why it’s important that the EU leadership tells him directly where the shoe pinches,” emphasized Jörg Wuttke, longtime president of the European Chamber of Commerce.[17] At the same time, it speaks volumes about the state of the relationship when even the mere act of speaking with the EU’s second most important trading partner is regarded as a success of the summit. References[1] https://policy.trade.ec.europa.eu/eu-trade-relationships-country-and-region/countries-and-regions/china_en[2] Exclusive | China tells EU it does not want to see Russia lose its war in Ukraine: sources | South China Morning Post[3] Neue Russland-Sanktionen: China droht EU mit Gegenmaßnahmen | tagesschau.de[4] Präsidentin von der Leyen beim G7-Gipfel[5] https://www.kas.de/en/web/mned-bruessel/global-europe-illustrated/detail/-/content/global-europe-illustrated-eu-member-states-voting-on-tariffs-ev-china[6] AGENCE EUROPE - Faced with economic and security challenges, EU emphasises i...[7] Vgl. China.Table: EU-Gipfel: Pekinger Außenministerium schlägt härtere Töne an, 23.07.2025.[8] Link zu Chinadaily[9] Handelskonflikt: China verursacht Rohstoffkrise – Erste Firmen drosseln Produktion[10] Sanctioned German China expert visits Beijing in sign of easing restrictions | South China Morning Post[11] Andere Zusammenfassungen finden sich hier: https://agenceurope.eu/en/bulletin/article/13687/1 oder in diesem Thread: https://x.com/fbermingham/status/1948242830595391697[12] EU warns China to push Putin to end war as relations hit ‘inflection point’ – POLITICO, die Pressekonferenz ist auch hier zu finden: https://newsroom.consilium.europa.eu/permalink/264159 , https://newsroom.consilium.europa.eu/permalink/264160[13] EU-China-Gipfel: Probleme bei Seltenen Erden gelöst?[14] Joint EU-China press statement on climate[15] 25th EU-China summit - EU press release - Consilium[16] Vgl. China.Table: EU-China-Gipfel: Peking will gegen Überkapazitäten vorgehen, 25.07.2025.[17] Experte Wuttke über EU-China-Gipfel: "Xi will Europa dominieren"

Diplomacy
waving colorful flag of european union and flag of canada on a euro money banknotes background. finance concept. macro

The Europe–Canada Schicksalsgemeinschaft: Transatlantic interdependency in the new North Atlantic triangle

by Christian Leuprecht

Abstract Buffeted by the headwinds of US unilateralism, Europeans and Canadians are bound together in a community of fate. As the US departs the field, Europe and Canada need to cooperate more. To avoid being abandoned, they need to avail themselves of Atlanticist power for mutual benefit. Rather than merely protecting a liberal–democratic zone of peace across the Western hemisphere, Europe and Canada need to project the power of the transatlantic security community to deter Russia from using war to precipitate a multipolar world order in which it becomes a global player. This article draws on the metaphor of transatlantic relations as a triangle: with the US, Europe and Canada at its angles. Canada is in an existentially precarious position: a more autonomous Europe would make Canada even more dependent on the American hegemon, which would heighten Canada’s risk of being absorbed by the US. Although that outcome is not in Europe’s interest, Europe and Canada have been disengaging for decades. Reversing this trajectory would come at a significant military cost but would be a political gain that would be difficult to measure, resulting in cooperation on energy security, critical minerals, defence and defence in depth. Yet, to achieve this strategic counterbalance, Europe and Canada need to protect abiding security and political interests: to keep the US in Europe and to keep the Russians out. KeywordsCanada, Europe, EU, Euro-Atlantic community, US, NATO, Energy security, Defence, Defence in depth, Transatlantic relations, Structural realism Introduction ‘Europe and Canada are trusted friends and partners. Today this relationship is more critical than ever. I look forward to working with you to defend democracy, free and fair trade, and our shared values’ (von der Leyen 2025). The words of the president of the European Commission, on the swearing in of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, identify Europe’s common priorities with the ‘most European of non-European countries’. The words reinforce a reinvigorated Schicksalsgemeinschaft, a German term that denotes a community with a common fate. After decades of distraction by ‘Asia-Pacific’ imaginaries, Europe and Canada are rediscovering the inevitability of their common fate, in the Euro-Atlantic community. Traditionally, the North Atlantic triangle has comprised an Atlanticist Anglosphere: the UK, the US and Canada. This article instead draws on an age-old metaphor coined by celebrated Canadian historian John Bartlet Brebner (1966): a North Atlantic triangle that reflects transatlantic strategic and political cultures. The angles of this triangle consist of the US, Canada and Europe writ large, as manifest in but not limited to the EU. Europe and Canada share a common strategic fate that makes them interdependent. Both stand to benefit from cultivating their relationship, while both stand to lose should Canada become even more dependent on the US. Canada’s strategic amnesia is manifest in its having forgotten the lesson of leveraging Europe to hedge against the uncertainties of US unilateralism. This is reminiscent of what Brebner called the ‘bookkeeper’s puzzle’: how can Canada best manage relations with both the UK and the US so as (a) to be able to invoke the assistance of the former against the latter’s political (and perhaps military) pressure, while at same time (b) ensuring that the British desire for an Anglo-American rapprochement does not result in any ‘sacrifice’ of Canadian interests? Historically, Canada had managed relations with the easternmost angle of the triangle, the UK, to assure its assistance against political (and possibly existential military) pressure from the US. At the same time, in the interests of its sovereignty, Canada wanted to ensure that any rapprochement with the UK would not end up sacrificing Canadian interests. An offshoot of the bookkeeper’s puzzle applies to attempts by Canada to involve its allies from NATO in an expanded triangle to counterbalance the US politically and economically (Haglund 2025). The bookkeeper’s puzzle thus reflects a real fear of abandonment: in Canada of being abandoned by Europe, and in Europe of being abandoned by the US. The key to the puzzle is for Canada and Europe to retrench and harness their interdependence. But that is easier said than done, due in part to free trade with the US, which has reinforced the shift of Canada’s organisational focus from east–west to north–south. The new North Atlantic triangle Since the founding of NATO in 1949, European countries and Canada have come to depend disproportionately on the world’s largest defence and intelligence complex for their security and have had the world’s largest economy as their primary trading partner. The US shored up its Atlantic and Pacific rims by design: a favourable trading relationship with the US allowed Europe to prosper, while the US guaranteed and underwrote Europe’s security against the Soviet threat. With the end of the Cold War, however, European allies opted to reduce their defence posture significantly. By contrast, since the end of the Cold War, the US has invested US$500 billion per year more than Europe in defence (at today’s prices)—which comes to almost US$20 trillion more than Europe over 35 years. This explains why Europe depends on US capability—especially in cyber, space and intelligence. The US feels that this came at its expense: 64% of European defence is still underwritten by the US (NATO 2025), up from 52% over the past decade, nothingstanding NATO members’ 2014 Wales summit pledge to spend more on defence. Why are 340 million Americans defending 450 million Europeans? Moreover, the US perceives those allies as benefiting from asymmetric trade relations, which the Trump administration considers to be to the detriment of the US. That is, European allies have failed to heed the first purpose of NATO which, in the infamous words of its first secretary general, Lord Ismay, is ‘to keep the Americans in Europe’ (Rodman 1995). To keep ‘the Russians out’ of Europe is the second purpose Lord Ismay sets out for NATO (Rodman 1995). In line with Article 5 of NATO’s founding charter (North Atlantic Treaty 1949, art. 5), allies rely on the US as the guarantor to deter Russia from its ambition of becoming a global player in a multipolar world order, which Russia is prepared to bring about by force. France and the UK notwithstanding, only the US has the nuclear triad and second-strike capability to ensure credible extended nuclear deterrence. However, two world wars and the Cold War have shown that Europe needs Canada for defence in depth. The usual connotation of this military strategy is to contain a bad actor that has breached a layer of defence by providing a second layer of defence. In this case, it refers to Canadian territory as being a safe and like-minded industrial hinterland for resources and an industrial base for Europe to rely on in times of war, as it did during the world wars. During these, Canada provided surge capacity and defence in depth from day one, long before the US ultimately joined in. In both cases, Canada’s reliable contribution changed the outcome of the war: the Second World War might have turned out quite differently had Canada not helped the UK hold down the island fort. Along with prevailing historical, ethno-cultural, political and economic ties, Canada and Europe share geostrategic interests: in the Arctic with the Nordic countries, and in the Atlantic rim with the UK, France, Spain and Portugal. Although Canada is disproportionately exposed to the consequences of US unilateralism, for Canada, leveraging European power to counterbalance the US is controversial (Haglund 1999). Canada’s changing demographics and trade relationships have oriented Canada away from Europe as the obvious ally and partner in safeguarding Canadian sovereignty. Conversely, Europe has an interest in using its power to assure Canada’s independence so as to limit the latter’s potential overexposure to the hegemonic impulses of the American empire: given the size of Canada’s economy and population, US leverage over Canadian natural, economic and human resources would increase America’s structural leverage, over Europe and the world, by about 10% over today’s American power. Such a situation would ensure its unrivalled status as the premier global superpower, which China alone could not match. In theory then, Canadian sovereignty depends on counterbalancing the US using European power. In practice, since the Second World War, both Canada and Europe have been drafting behind the US, deepening their economic and military reliance on the US, and shifting their strategic gaze away from a Euro-Atlantic community that they have taken for granted. Fixated on the US, both parties have seemingly suffered from amnesia about their bilateral transatlantic geostrategic interdependency. As US geostrategic interests increasingly diverge from those of the EU and Canada, and the US becomes more consumed with domestic (electoral) priorities and structural shifts in geopolitical gravity towards the Indo-Pacific, the relationship between Canada and Europe stands at a cross-roads. To counterbalance the power politics of an emboldened US, Russia and China, Europe and Canada need one another to preserve and uphold the liberal–democratic rules-based international order. This is especially true since the US’s pivot in geopolitical orientation, priorities and resource allocation towards the Indo-Pacific to disrupt an expansionist China that is intent on upending the prevailing international order. The US response to China has been to secure control over critical resources and geostrategic approaches that could render it vulnerable, while ensuring that it remains the world’s largest economy. On the one hand, eyeing natural resources and critical minerals in its proximate vicinity, notably Canada and Greenland, puts the US on a confrontational course with Europe and European interests. On the other, the US is ‘rebalancing’ away from Europe, the European neighbourhood and the Euro-Atlantic community as its priorities, and resources, shift to the Indo-Pacific. As a result, the US is expecting Europe to take on (far) greater responsibility for securing its own political interests and military backyard. In response, some European leaders, notably France, have continued to advocate for greater ‘strategic autonomy’ for Europe—an approach that drew the ire of the first Trump administration and is likely to aggravate Euro-Atlantic tensions—while others, notably Germany, have favoured chequebook diplomacy. This term describes the use of economic aid and investment as a means of attraction as part of soft-power projection (Leuprecht and Hamilton 2020). As the least powerful of the G7, Canada has neither luxury. Without European allies by its side, Canada runs an extreme risk of being left out in the geostrategic cold, with deleterious consequences for both Canada and the EU (Nossal 2023). Within the Euro-Atlantic community, the EU and Canada have not just suffered from mutual benign neglect. In the post–Cold War era, and especially with the advent of the Global War on Terror, Europe’s value to Canada has been declining steadily. Canada’s primary strategic relationship is naturally with the US, with which it shares a continent: co-located with the world’s largest economy, which a free trade agreement has made it ever more dependent on, Canada’s economy and security have become overly reliant on the US. The EU and the vast majority of its member states are also highly—arguably overly—dependent on the security and economic umbrella of the US. The supposed ‘peace dividend’ after the Cold War made NATO members even more dependent on the US. With so great an emphasis on their strategic relationships with the US, the perpendicular Canada–EU edge of the new North Atlantic triangle has never received much attention. What was a sin of omission, is now a sin of commission, by both parties. Friends, without benefits Reorienting Canada–Europe relations—as desirable as it may be—is a tall order. However intellectually appealing and geopolitically necessary, there are many obstacles. First, political leaders on both sides of the Atlantic have neither prioritised bilateral Euro–Canadian relations, nor really taken note of them, whether out of disinterest or because there was no pressing need: to date, 10 EU member countries still have not ratified the Canada–Europe Trade Agreement. In both the Old and the New World, long-term thinking in politics and society is a popular topic of discussion in the salons of the capital cities, but rarely reaches the offices of decision-makers and their advisers. In the end, the untapped potential for more vital, productive and politically successful relations between Canada and Europe is inversely proportional to the actual political will and capital that elites are willing to expend, especially relative to their interest in the US. Second, realignments in international relations require not only a strategic basis but also complementary apparatuses that are willing and able to action new strategic direction. This does not bode well for either Canada or the EU. The Canadian foreign service suffers from a vast backlog of reforms in terms of its structures, vision and mission, which is indicative of a broad decline in the efficiency, effectiveness and objectivity of the Canadian civil service (Savoie 2024) and the steady erosion of the ability of Canada’s federal government to manage civil society. Former Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s Senate Reform resulted in the worst of both worlds: it further aggravated the struggle between Ottawa and the provinces over power and resources, and failed to generate greater capacity and interest in foreign and security policy in Canada’s upper chamber. The senators he appointed were preoccupied with domestic policy, and ideologically disinclined towards provincial rights. Recent foreign policy has resulted in six Canadian foreign ministers over the course of a decade; poor preparation and engagement by ministers who tout Canada’s ‘convening power’ but have little actual legitimacy to convene, let alone deliver; and two failed candidacies for a non-permanent seat on the UN Security Council. The foreign services of the EU and its member states, too, seem more preoccupied with themselves—notably with identity politics—than with playing a measurable, active role in shaping bilateral and multilateral external relations. In both the EU and Canada, the visibility and political effectiveness of foreign affairs instruments underperform: spending is unstructured and not optimised for strategic effect. Yet, both sides share a dogmatically defiant adherence to the legacy of a liberal rules-based international order. Indications of upheaval in the transatlantic relationship date back at least to President Obama’s ‘pivot’ to Asia. Realists posit the international system as anarchic, with states competing against one another and striving for survival. That world of power and interest-driven politics stands in increasingly stark contrast to Europe’s and Canada’s liberal institutionalist and values-driven approaches to the world. Third, for a realignment of the Canadian–European relationship at the political level, the impetus must not only originate from their respective civil societies, but also be accepted and actively legitimated in societies whose demographic composition is undergoing rapid change. Yet, legitimation deficits loom large. The EU’s view of the North American subcontinent remains wedded to the bilateral relationship with the US. At the same time, due to the slow implementation of the Canada–EU Trade Agreement, the potential for economic cooperation with EU institutions and member states remains largely unrealised, despite the fact that it has long been far easier for Canada and European allies to work together than for either to work with the US. For example, the extremely low international mobility rate of Canadian students, which is in the single digits, and the relatively few EU students who study in Canada, foreshadow a lack of future bilateral networks for emerging young leaders to tap into (European Commission 2020). Overly rigid certification standards in Canada for European university degrees impede broader student exchanges, labour mobility and more extensive knowledge transfer. Nevertheless, academic networks, that is, joint projects by non-governmental organisations from the EU dedicated to political cooperation with and in Canada, such as that fostered by the local EU delegation in Ottawa, portend positive developments: for example, the Jean Monnet Chairs and a centre that parlays European interest in Canadian universities, and the Europe Canada Network (EUCAnet) which facilitates transatlantic knowledge sharing among experts. Similarly, in the private sector, Canadian chief executives are in short supply in the EU, and potential candidates more often than not prefer to stay in their home country, the US or the Anglosphere, rather than invest in a transatlantic management career and the associated bilateral networks. The fourth obstacle is a direct result of the meagre transatlantic civil society: the prevailing images Canada and Europe have of one another one the one hand, and the failure to ‘bridge’ the transatlantic imaginary on the other. On the one side is Canada, the cosmopolitan, tolerant and fun subcontinent with bears, lakes, mountains and maple syrup, which—post-colonial realities notwithstanding—is considered by most Europeans to be the better North America and which, with its playful lightness, often manages to escape the critical gaze, and not only that of Europeans. On the other side is ‘Fortress’ Europe, with its sprawling bureaucracy, and myriad unmanageable regulations and trade barriers, which seemingly only feigns openness. Perception could not be further from reality. Foreign policy is driven by national interest, yet despite a trajectory of convergence among Euro–Canadian interests, especially of late, for the EU and European countries, Canada remains a low priority: Canada ranks about sixtieth in terms of priority across European states, well behind all the EU member states, and behind many other large and mid-sized powers around the world. Fifth, despite the intent to build closer ties, fundamentally different economic gravitational pulls on both sides persist: owing to bilateral free-trade agreements and globalisation, over the past 30 years, Canada has gradually become more dependent on the US, while the integrative benefits of the EU’s common market have reduced incentives for member states to invest in bilateral relations with Canada. Sobering foreign trade figures for the EU and European states with Canada hold little prospect of change in the foreseeable future: Canada barely cracks the top 10 of European export markets, whereas the EU is actually Canada’s second most important trading partner—but at barely a tenth of Canada’s trade with the US. Finally, if bilateral EU–Canada cooperation is to deepen, parliaments on both sides need to be more proactive and deliberate in transforming the relationship: while political executives, the European Commission and Canada’s government of the day set the agenda, it is the legislatures that legitimate and sustain it. The European Parliament maintains a permanent liaison office in Washington, DC as well as a European Public Law Organization in London and in every member state, but not in Ottawa. The Canada–Europe Parliamentary Association needs to fashion new formats to invigorate and promote relevant political projects among the Canadian, European and national parliaments, perhaps modelled on the robust array of activities undertaken by the NATO Parliamentary Assembly. Strategic friends, with benefits Its position in the new North Atlantic triangle makes Canada an attractive partner for Europe. Rich in natural resources and critical minerals, Canada has the potential to rank among the world’s most prosperous countries. Canada’s three largest export industries are oil, natural gas and agriculture, along with vast resources in potash (for fertiliser) and uranium (nuclear power). Were Canada to build more pipeline capacity to export hydrocarbons, it would have the potential to make Europe (much) more energy and critical-minerals secure, more competitive and prosperous by contributing to lower European energy prices, and less reliant on the US, the Middle East and Russia, especially for liquified natural gas. Canada has the third-largest oil reserves in the world, produces some of the cleanest natural gas and ranks among the world’s top five exporters of agri-food. Yet, Canada’s pipeline infrastructure is overly reliant on the US, which means Canada has to sell the bulk of its oil to the US at a 25% discount on world market prices. Bringing down European energy prices is the most important contribution Canada could be making in standing with Ukraine: Canada’s failure to export hydrocarbons to Europe keeps European energy prices high, which effectively amounts to Canada subsidising Russia’s war of aggression on Ukraine. Europe procures negligible amounts of Canadian oil via US facilities in the Gulf of Mexico, and Canada exports no liquified natural gas to Europe at all, despite Europe now procuring 120 billion cubic metres a year, about half of which comes from the US. Besides an abundance of natural resources and critical minerals, as well as cheap, clean electricity, Canada is also rich in human resources and other intangible assets: it has a concentration of data centres and artificial intelligence infrastructure, it is home to some of the best public universities in the world, it has a more diverse and younger demography than any European ally, and its immigration strategy has historically favoured high skillsets and education. As a result, Canada has long had the most tertiary-qualified workforce among OECD countries (OCED 2022). Although Canada shares common interests, institutions (such as the North American Aerospace Defence Command, NORAD), a continental identity and ideas with the US, as a Westminster parliamentary democracy, its values and political culture are closer to those of Europe than those of the US (Hataley and Leuprecht 2019). Moreover, as the only country that is a member of both the British Commonwealth and La Francophonie, Canada shares key cultural–linguistic attributes with both the UK and France: within the G7, Canada thus offers a counterweight to the Anglo-Saxon world. Europe also remains Canada’s second most important strategic partner, after the US. Owing to its experiences in the two world wars, Canada has a vested interest in Europe’s territorial integrity, political stability, economic prosperity and social harmony, with its like-minded European allies helping Canada to offset US unilateralist propensities. To that effect, NATO is a vital multilateral organisation for Canada; arguably, it is the most important, giving Canada a voice alongside 30 European allies and the US. Although it would be a mistake to equate counterbalancing the US with participation in NATO, Canada has a vested interest in sustaining and preserving NATO for the purpose of bandwagoning with European members to do just that (Jockel and Sokolsky 2021). For this reason, the Canadian Armed Forces has long been postured as an expeditionary organisation, with its primary orientation towards Europe. Via NATO’s external borders, Canada’s boundary with Russia stretches from its border with Alaska via a (disputed) Arctic maritime flank close to 1,000 km in length, to a 1,215 km land boundary in Northern, Central and Eastern Europe. Canada has thus sustained military commitments along much of the Russian flank. The pattern of Canada’s military deployments also shows that the country has vested interests in the Balkans, Europe’s southern flank, in the Mediterranean, the Middle East and North Africa. However, in recent decades, Canada has let its military atrophy to the point where it struggles to meet basic commitments—to NATO, to NORAD and to defending its own northern interests—let alone make new ones. Yet, the US pivot to the Indo-Pacific has created an opportunity for Canada to support US and European interests by backfilling some US capacity across Europe’s central, eastern and southern flanks, thus shoring up NATO, which is of benefit and interest to all member states. Were the EU to become a more independent defence actor, this would pose a serious risk to Canadian sovereignty and Canada’s standing in the world. In theory, Europe has the industrial base and financial capacity to provide for its own defence, security and survival. This, however, comes at a cost, for which European allies have thus far proven unable to muster the political will, although the European Commission’s $800 billion ReArm Europe plan holds promise that political will may be changing. The lack of will is cause for concern in the US, since Europe’s NATO allies have been sourcing about 60% of their arms from the US market. When France tried to take the initiative to achieve greater strategic autonomy for Europe during the first Trump presidency, Trump’s then NATO ambassador promptly dispatched an aggressive cease-and-desist letter (Leuprecht and Hamilton 2020). Although the US has resisted getting entangled in alliances since its first president, George Washington, NATO offers the US important levers. Nowhere in the world does the US invest proportionately less in defence for a higher rate of return. Canada and Europe are better positioned to add value to US military, political and strategic interests, than to try to go it alone individually. As Keohane (1988) famously observed, for the US, NATO is a very efficient and effective collective decision-making mechanism, gathering 30 European countries plus Canada—including some of the world’s top spenders on defence—the UK, Germany and France. Combined, the non-US NATO members spend about US$600 billion on defence (as compared to the US$877 billion by the US). The importance of NATO as an information-sharing and coordination mechanism has grown substantially since the formulation of NATO’s 2022 Strategic Concept, which brought key partners in the Indo-Pacific into the fold, including Australia, Japan, South Korea and New Zealand. Together, these allies and partners spent roughly US$1.7 trillion of a total global defence expenditure of about US$2.44 trillion in 2023. Of course, aggregate expenditures are an inchoate measure of military capability and commitment. While the US can necessarily exert greater pressure on any one country bilaterally, the benefits of NATO decision-making and coordination far outweigh the transaction costs for the US to do so bilaterally across three dozen countries. The reason the US spends as much as it does on its military is to preserve its freedom of action. Ultimately, being able to act unilaterally means never having to rely on others. Nonetheless, even though dispensable, allies are convenient to have as they also bring soft power, money and moral legitimacy. Greater European strategic autonomy is of little interest to the US, outside the NATO framework. The US does, however, have an interest in greater complementarity, capability and effectiveness within the organisation: it wants allies to do more together, on their own, provided they deconflict with the US. As the only other non-European NATO member country, Canada necessarily shares the transatlantic orientation of the US. Canada’s defence relations with Europe thus offer the US a mechanism to fall back on should the EU strive for greater strategic autonomy without coordinating with NATO and, therefore, with US interests. The lesson that the US drew from the Second World War was that, as a superpower, it has global interests. To this end, US unilateralism took on the trappings of a more multilateral approach to global affairs. The US collaborated with European partners and Canada to build the foundations of the post-war security, trade and monetary infrastructure: NATO, the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, and the Bretton Woods Accord (which laid the foundations for the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank). This strategic collaboration brought North America and (Western) Europe historically unprecedented security, prosperity and stability. Over time, however, both the European members of NATO and Canada have forgotten that, multilateral trappings aside, the arrangement was born primarily out of US interest. In the aftermath of the two world wars, the US learned that territorial integrity, political stability, collective prosperity and social harmony in and of Europe were in the best interests of its aspirations as a global superpower. The claim to superpower status depended on a degree of control over Europe. Russia has long understood this; the US came to this realisation in the twentieth century; and for a China with global ambitions, this is a relatively recent realisation. For the US, NATO and extended nuclear deterrence are the means to this end; which is why Russia is intent on upending NATO, as both Russia and China aspire to be global players in a multipolar world, rather than regional players under a Pax Americana. Although Canada does not have nuclear arms, its position in North America necessarily means it has a role in assuring extended nuclear deterrence. Russia’s strategic approaches to North America, by way of the Arctic, pass through Canadian airspace. Canada’s gradual commitment to and spending on Arctic security and defence, including NORAD, therefore, are not just about homeland defence, but are also an investment in NATO by means of continental defence writ large (Leuprecht et al. 2018). North American continental defence assures uncompromised latitude for sovereign decision-making in Washington as well as Ottawa. An adversary that can threaten North America with intercontinental ballistic missiles or hypersonic missiles, for instance, could effectively curtail sovereign decision-making that reflects the best interests and legitimate democratic will of Americans or Canadians. That is, an adversary could overtly threaten Ottawa or Washington with an attack if confronted with a political choice that runs counter to its interests. This matters all the more since North American continental security is the bedrock of credible extended nuclear deterrence. An adversary that is able to call the nuclear triad, and especially the second-strike capability, into question would effectively undermine the US security umbrella that spans the Atlantic and Pacific rims. The states that currently rely on US extended deterrence would thus have an incentive to resort to nuclear proliferation to ensure their own survival. Since nuclear proliferation runs counter to European and Canadian interests in regional and global stability, this is one more reason for them to be more strategic about coordinating their contribution to the triangle. Ostensibly, the US does not need Canada to provide North American continental defence: the US has the capacity, capabilities and resources to go it alone. However, cutting Canada out of North American strategic defence would significantly reduce NATO’s leverage over collective defence. Europe and European allies would be left to deal with the US alone; Canada’s currency on the continent and across the Atlantic would be greatly diminished. The coincidence of NATO’s pivot to North American Arctic defence and Obama’s pivot to the Indo-Pacific is no accident. Certainly, there is an operational requirement to coordinate with NORAD on an integrated all-domain layered Arctic defence along NATO’s entire frontier with Russia. But this change also highlighted that NATO is, first and foremost, a political—not a military—alliance. Obama’s pivot necessarily meant less US attention paid to, input and interest in NATO; thus, it was in NATO’s best interest to show the flag in America’s backyard. NATO has not one but three pillars: Europe, North America and the transatlantic area. How we imagine the third matters for how the US imagines NATO’s role in the Atlantic: either, as popularised by Walter Lippman (1917), as an ‘ocean highway’ that by geography, culture and necessity connects two continental ‘communities’; or, in a triumph of politics over geography, as theorised by Alan Henrikson (1980), as a ‘lake’ and ‘inland sea’ that unifies rather than divides. Within the North Atlantic triangle, Canada can bridge the divide of a vast ocean, making it into a much more manageable inland sea. Canada’s geographic continental co-location with the US gives Europe limited, but strategically indispensable, leverage beyond Washington through which to influence the second and third pillars of NATO, using defence and diplomacy to counter US unilateralist proclivities. Conclusion For Canada to become even more (over)dependent on the US than it already is runs fundamentally counter to European interests. The EU has a vested interest in Canada maintaining sovereign control over its resources, political decision-making and defence. Conversely, the prospect of greater European strategic autonomy in defence outside of the NATO framework poses a potentially existential risk to Canada, rendering it more dependent on the US, and thus reducing its value to allies and partners and, by extension, its standing in the world. If this were to happen, Canada would face much higher transaction costs more akin to those of its partners in the Indo-Pacific, having to invest a lot more in foreign policy and defence for greatly diminished returns. Canadian sovereignty is a Trump card that the US is now playing to maximise its power and range of unilateral action in a world where its hegemony is under threat. Europe and Canada used to be discretionary friends. Now is the time to realise mutual benefits for strategic effect. Canada can support Europe’s interests in energy security, critical minerals, defence and defence in depth. In return, the EU can bolster Canadian political and economic sovereignty. Partnering with the EU is also the most efficient and effective way for Canada to gain greater independence from the US in defence and defence-industrial capacity. Greater, more autonomous military-industrial capacity would enable both Canada and the EU to build sustainable capabilities and commit to collective defence. Such a strategy would have a dual signalling purpose: of military deterrence to Russia, and of political and economic deterrence to the US. Canada and the EU should not just protect but actually promote their military, political and economic interests. Failing to be strategic about collective transatlantic security and the Euro-Atlantic community within the new North American triangle increases the risk that Canada and Europe will be abandoned by the US. Lord Ismay had a premonition should Europe and Canada fail to shape their future: Russia in Europe, America out, under German leadership. ORCID iDChristian Leuprecht https://orcid.org/0000-0001-9498-4749ReferencesBrebner J. B. (1966). North Atlantic triangle: The interplay of Canada, the United States and Great Britain. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart.European Commission. (2020). ERASMUS+ for higher education in Canada. https://ec.europa.eu/assets/eac/erasmus-plus/factsheets/america-caribbean/canada_erasmusplus_2020.pdf. Accessed 20 March 2025.Haglund D. (1999). The North American triangle revisited: (Geo)political metaphor and the logic of Canadian foreign policy. American Review of Canadian Studies, 29(2), 211–35. Crossref.Haglund D. (2025). Brebner’s North Atlantic Triangle at 80: A (second) retrospective look at a retrospective book. London Journal of Canadian Studies, 31(1), 93–119. https://www.queensu.ca/politics/sites/polswww/files/uploaded_files/Selected%20Publications/LJCS%20Second%20Brebner%20Retrospective.pdf. Accessed 24 April 2025.Hataley T., Leuprecht C. (2019). Bilateral coordination of border security, intelligence sharing, counter-terrorism, and counter-radicalization. In Carment D., Sands C. (eds.), Canada–US relations: Sovereignty or shared institutions? (pp. 87–104). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Crossref.Henrikson A. K. (1980). The geographical mental maps of American foreign policy makers. International Political Science Review, 1(4), 495–530. Crossref.Jockel J. J., Sokolsky J. J. (2021). Canada in NATO: 1949–2019. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press. Crossref.Keohane R. (1988). Alliances, threats, and the uses of neorealism. International Security, 13(1), 169–76. Crossref.Leuprecht C., Hamilton R. (2020). New opportunities in common security and defence policy: Joining PESCO. In Chaban N., Knodt M. (eds.), ‘New opportunities for the Canada–EU strategic partnership’, Special issue, Australian and New Zealand Journal of European Studies, 11(3), 78–94. https://www.esaanz.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/Leuprecht_Hamilton-1.pdf. Accessed 23 April 2025.Leuprecht C., Sokolsky J. J., Hughes T. (2018). North American strategic defence in the 21st century: Security and sovereignty in an uncertain world. Cham: Springer. Crossref.Lippmann W. (1917). In Defence of the Atlantic World. The New Republic, 10(120), 59-61.North Atlantic Treaty. (1949). Washington, DC, 4 April 1949. UNTS 34, 243.NATO. (2025). The Secretary General’s annual report, 2024. https://www.nato.int/nato_static_fl2014/assets/pdf/2025/4/pdf/sgar24-en.pdf. Accessed 9 May 2025.Nossal K. R. (2023). Canada alone: Navigating the post-American world. Toronto: Dundurn Press.OECD. (2022). Educational attainment. https://www.oecd.org/en/topics/sub-issues/education-attainment.html. Accessed 20 March 2025.Rodman P. W. (1995). NATO’s role in a new European security order. NATO Working Paper 95.2. https://www.nato.int/acad/conf/future95/rodman.htm. Accessed 23 April 2025.Savoie D. (2024). Speaking truth to Canadians about their public service. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press.Von der Leyen U. (@vonderleyen). (2025). Congratulations to @MarkJCarney on becoming Canada’s next Prime Minister. X. 14 March, 3.28 pm. https://x.com/vonderleyen/status/1900569759378235851. Accessed 16 April 2025.

Diplomacy
Classification of the countries according to the world-system analysis of I. Wallerstein: core, semi-periphery and periphery.

Reflections on the modern world-system from a decolonial perspective

by Larissa Salas Duarte

Abstract This paper analyzes, from Immanuel Wallerstein's Analysis of the World – System, an introduction, the emergence of the modern world – system, the permanence of the colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system from a decolonial approach. It examines how the center – periphery structure has determined the economic, political and epistemic dynamics at the global level. Through this approach we study how coloniality has influenced the construction of knowledge. It also analyzes the impact of this structure on the recognition of States and the negotiation of international treaties, showing how Western power has conditioned the legitimacy and autonomy of peripheral nations. It also addresses the persistence of the center-periphery logic in local relations, as well as in gender and racial inequality, highlighting the role of anti-systemic movements in the struggle against these structures. It concludes that, although colonial dynamics continue to operate through debt, extractivism and the imposition of political models, decolonial perspectives offer tools to make visible and resist them. Introduction This paper will analyze the dynamics of the current international system based on the work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System” by Immanuel Wallerstein. In it, Wallerstein (2005) argues that the modern capitalist world-system has structured the global order since the 16th century, consolidating a hierarchical division between the center and the periphery. This division has not only shaped economic and political dynamics but has also established patterns of domination and dependency that persist to this day. The colonial expansion of European powers not only guaranteed access to resources and markets but also legitimized a system of exploitation based on racism and the hierarchization of colonized peoples. The decolonial perspective of Walter Mignolo (2013) will be adopted, which posits that this is a political and epistemic project aimed at dismantling the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity. From this framework, the article will analyze how colonial logic continues to operate in the capitalist world-system through the economic and political subordination of the peripheries. It will also examine the impact of the colonial worldview on knowledge production during the 18th and 19th centuries, as well as the reproduction of the center–periphery dynamic in the recognition of states during the 20th century and in the negotiation of international treaties during the 21st century. Likewise, it will address how this dynamic manifests not only internationally but also within local structures, perpetuating inequalities expressed in labor, gender, and racial relations today. This work seeks to provide a critical perspective on the persistence of colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system, emphasizing the need to rethink power structures from a decolonial perspective that makes visible and vindicates the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced. Development Colonial Logic in the Capitalist World-System In his work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System”, Wallerstein seeks to understand the structure and dynamics of the world-system, taking the 16th century as the starting point —a period when the conquests of the territories we now know as the Americas took place. The colonial period clearly illustrates the core–periphery dynamic (Wallerstein, 2005), as the Spanish, British, and Portuguese empires engaged in the extraction of resources from their colonies, while colonized peoples endured oppression and racism to which they would be condemned for centuries. This oppression brought significant benefits to the modern world-system, as it enabled massive capital accumulation — but exclusively in the core. This was because the colonial process built peripheral economies around the needs of the core, forcing them into subordination to the interests of the global market, generating dependency and underdevelopment. Quijano and Wallerstein (1992) argue that “[…] ethnicity was the inevitable cultural consequence of coloniality. It delineated the social boundaries corresponding to the division of labor” (p. 585). Due to the colonial period, the modern capitalist world-system laid its foundations and strengthened its market-based economic model through racism and hierarchization — circumstances that have legitimized the exploitation and domination of non-European peoples throughout history. Control over the resources of peripheral states by core states has endured to this day, along with the imposition of Western production and consumption models that perpetuate inequality. The colonial period’s greatest legacy remains systemic violence and subalternity. On this basis, it is important to analyze this work from a decolonial perspective. For Walter Mignolo (2013), “decoloniality is not a concept, but a practice and a political, epistemic, and ethical project aimed at disengaging from the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity” (p. 21). This perspective also draws on the notion of epistemic subalternity, which refers to the experiences and knowledge of colonized and subaltern peoples that are rendered invisible, devalued, or reduced to particular cases — without being considered an integral part of the world-system (Mora, 2008). Coloniality in the Construction of Knowledge At the end of the 18th century, the modern university emerged, dividing its studies into two faculties: sciences and humanities. In the 19th century, another division took place within the humanities, opening the space for the study of social sciences, which would later also be split — on one side, those leaning toward scientism, and on the other, toward the humanistic approach. This led to the creation of new disciplines: economics, political science, and sociology (Wallerstein, 2005). These new sciences built their worldview and knowledge construction from a Eurocentric and colonialist perspective, thus assigning labels to peoples different from their own. These new sciences categorized the study of the world’s peoples into three groups. First, civilized peoples — Western nations, considered as such because they believed their social and political organization systems were the most advanced. Second, the high civilizations — India, China, Persia, and the Arab world — classified in this way because they possessed writing, religion, language, and customs. They were regarded as civilized peoples but not modern, under the previously mentioned concept. This category gave rise to orientalist scholars, with a Eurocentric and exoticizing view. Finally, the so-called primitive peoples — those who, from the colonial perspective, lacked writing, religion, language, and customs. This perception of the “uncivilized other” was used to justify colonial processes in the periphery, which even today enable the reproduction of exploitative and racist practices. Segregation in the construction of knowledge, imbued with colonial and Eurocentric thought, is based on criticizing the behavior of these peoples and on what should be changed about them (Zapata, 2008). The Eurocentric conception asserts categorically that the modus vivendi of these peoples is not appropriate according to Western standards. Although this way of thinking has evolved over time, its essence remains the same and has led Western countries to grant themselves the power to change the way of life of these peoples through invasions, neocolonial processes, and violent interventions via military force or economic interference. The Center and the Periphery in the Recognition of States As previously mentioned, Europe established a correspondence between modernity and the West; this includes the institution of the nation-state as its derived product (Zapata, 2008). From the Eurocentric perspective, for civilizations to be considered nation-states, they must possess four characteristics: territory, population, government, and sovereignty. In Public International Law, sovereign states are the main subjects of international relations, and for a state to be recognized as such, it must be acknowledged by the majority of states that are part of the international system. The center–periphery concept operates both economically and politically, which can be observed when a new state seeks recognition from members of the international system. The recognition granted by a state from the center carries more weight than that from the periphery, since states in the center, with greater political and economic capacity, influence the decisions of their allies — both within the center and the periphery. This need for state recognition has been extremely beneficial for the modern capitalist world-system, as political and economic interdependence, along with the perpetuation of power in the countries of the center — particularly those belonging to the West — ensures that they act, whether in matters of state recognition, political agendas, or economic issues, entirely to their own advantage, disregarding the interests of “the other.” From a decolonial perspective, state recognition is a Western construct designed to maintain control over who meets the imposed criteria to belong to the Eurocentric international system. These criteria clearly do not align with the social organization of all non-Western civilizations but were conceived in such a way as to subordinate them to the needs of the world-system, which inevitably serves the interests of Western core states. This can be exemplified by the case of Taiwan. In 1971, the Kuomintang lost recognition from the government of mainland China, and starting in 1985, Taiwan’s government sought to strengthen diplomatic relations with states that already recognized it and to develop relations with those that did not, with the aim of obtaining their approval (Connelly, 2014). Despite the passage of time, recognition of Taiwan as a state by core countries seems inconvenient for them, likely due to the ongoing political dispute between Taiwan and China. As a result, only 14 peripheral states recognize it as such. Despite this, the Northeast Asian country maintains unofficial relations with 47 states and the European Union, for purely economic reasons. The Modern Capitalist World-System in International Treaties It is worth mentioning that the idea of the center–periphery permeates the negotiation of international agreements. As mentioned earlier, the so-called “primitive peoples” were civilizations that, from the Eurocentric perspective of knowledge, lacked writing, religion, languages, or customs. This idea persisted into the 20th century, as reflected in the Statute of the International Court of Justice, which in Chapter II, Article 38, states that “the Court, whose function is to decide in accordance with international law such disputes as are submitted to it, shall apply: […] the general principles of law recognized by civilized nations” (UN, 1945). The Eurocentric conception of a civilized nation in the postwar period was based on the type of government existing in each state. Thus, countries without a democratic political system were not considered civilized nations. This conception forced nations not to determine their own system of government, but rather to adhere to the one imposed by the Western international system in order to be accepted, disregarding their customs and traditions. A more current example of the imposition of Eurocentric ideas on systems of government is the signing of the Free Trade Agreement between the European Union and Mexico in 2000. Ratification of the trade agreement was conditioned on what they called the “democratic clause.” The agreement was not ratified by the Italian government until July 3 of that year, when the presidential elections resulted in the victory of Vicente Fox (Villegas, 2001). On the same day, the European Commission’s spokesperson, Gunnar Wiegand, said in his press release: “A historic vote has taken place in Mexico. The Commission congratulates the Mexican people for exercising their democratic rights in such a mature and exemplary manner” (Caracol Radio, 2000). The spokesperson’s mention of the Mexican people’s maturity refers to the notion that, in the past, the exercise of democracy had not possessed this quality — an observation made from a paternalistic and Eurocentric perspective. Had the election results been different, Mexico could have faced the possibility of the European Union “imposing sanctions as a reaction to the verification of interruptions in democratic processes, which, in addition to affecting development, constitute a threat to international peace and security” (Cordero Galdós, 2002, p. 128). The criticism of the imposition of the “democratic clause” centers on the recurring practice of requiring peripheral states to adapt to the political ideologies and economic needs of the core. The Reproduction of the Center–Periphery Dynamic at the Local Level As mentioned in the development of this work, the effects of colonialism persist across all systems and subsystems through the coloniality of power, knowledge, and being, the latter of which will be addressed later. This is manifested in global inequalities, the exploitation of natural resources in peripheral countries, and the persistence of racist and Eurocentric power structures. From Wallerstein’s perspective, the world-system is a historical structure which, although in constant transformation, reproduces power relations and inequalities over time through the domination of the core and the exploitation of the peripheries (Wallerstein, 2005). Thus, the world-system has evolved in several ways; one of these is the introduction of the term semi-periphery into the analysis. During the colonial period, there were only core and peripheral nations. Over the centuries, however, semi-peripheral states have emerged — nations that not only extract raw materials or engage in manufacturing but also have the capacity to produce cutting-edge technology (Wallerstein, 2005). This positions them in a more privileged place than peripheral countries in the international system. Yet, despite appearing to have overcome the systemic oppression that once kept them in the periphery, the colonial mindset within their institutions perpetuates their subordination to the core. Good examples of semi-peripheral states in Latin America are Mexico and Brazil. Both countries were victims of the exploitation and systemic violence of colonialism. This shaped the development of their societies and economies for centuries. Even after achieving independence and building productive and economic systems that placed them in the semi-periphery, their economic progress was built on a legacy of oppression and racism that continues to reproduce the abuses described. In this way, the concept of core and periphery permeates social and family subsystems. This can be observed in labor relations, where capitalists depend on the core–periphery or superior–subordinate relationship to sustain the production model. It is also evident in social relations, which Wallerstein refers to as anti-systemic movements. Society perpetuates the core–periphery principle by placing women and racialized communities in the periphery, while men — especially white men with power — occupy the core. Anti-systemic movements paved the way for the struggle against these inequalities, giving rise, for example, to feminist and Indigenous movements. These have led to the development of theoretical perspectives such as decolonial feminism, which adds analytical variables to the decolonial perspective. According to Yuderkys Espinosa, it emerges from “[…] a subaltern, non-hegemonic voice […] anti-colonial, anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist. […] Its aim is to question and oppose an imperial and racist rationale” (Barroso, 2014, p. 2). Conclusions The modern capitalist world-system has managed to sustain and expand itself thanks to colonial structures that, far from disappearing with decolonization processes, have mutated and perpetuated dynamics of domination and dependence. As discussed, the core–periphery logic has been key to the organization of the international system, not only in economic terms but also in the construction of knowledge, the legitimization of states, the negotiation of international agreements, and the imposition of political and social models from Western hegemony. The colonial legacy remains in the structural subordination of peripheral economies to the interests of the core, the imposition of international norms that favor core countries, and the persistence of racialized and gender-based inequalities within peripheral states themselves. This scheme has not only ensured capital accumulation in the core but has also limited the self-determination of historically colonized peoples, while normalizing their exclusion from political, economic, and epistemic spheres. At the international level, neocolonialism operates through mechanisms such as external debt, unequal trade agreements, and political interference in the internal affairs of peripheral states. In addition, extractivism and territorial dispossession continue to reproduce colonial logics, affecting both peripheral countries and Indigenous communities as well as other historically marginalized groups. In this sense, the modern capitalist world-system not only perpetuates economic exploitation but also reinforces power structures based on racism, sexism, and subalternity. However, as decolonial perspectives point out, the coloniality of power is not an immutable phenomenon. This approach questions the structures of power and knowledge inherited from colonization, seeking to deconstruct Eurocentric discourses and make visible the voices and experiences of the subaltern. Anti-systemic movements have sought to challenge these structures, reclaiming the agency of subaltern peoples and promoting the construction of alternatives that confront the colonial matrix of power. Particularly, decolonial feminism has emerged as a key critique of the intersection between patriarchy and coloniality, showing how women — especially racialized women — have been relegated to the periphery of the system. Thus, analyzing the world-system from a decolonial perspective allows us not only to understand the continuity of structures of domination but also to recognize the spaces of resistance and contestation that emerge within it. In conclusion, the decolonial perspective enables us to rethink the modern world-system from a critical standpoint, recognizing structural inequalities and the need to transform the power dynamics that perpetuate the domination of the core over the periphery. Decolonialism makes it possible to redefine notions of progress, development, and modernity from a perspective free from colonial stereotypes and hierarchies, recognizing the diversity of knowledge and worldviews of Indigenous peoples. It seeks to decentralize power by rethinking and decolonizing power relations between the core and the periphery, between the state and local communities, aiming for a more equitable distribution of resources and benefits. It is essential to make visible and vindicate the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced, promoting an epistemic and political shift that dismantles the foundations of this system and paves the way for fairer and more inclusive models. References Andrade, V. M. (diciembre, 2019). La Teoría Crítica y el pensamiento decolonial: hacia un proyecto emancipatorio post–occidental. Revista Mexicana de Ciencias Políticas y Sociales, 65(238). https://doi.org/10.22201/fcpys.2448492xe.2020.238.67363Barroso, M. (2014). Feminismo decolonial: crítica y propuesta. Revista Estudos Feministas, 22(1), 1–15.Caracol Radio. (3 de julio, 2000). Europa felicita a mexicano por votación ejemplar. Caracol Radio. https://caracol.com.co/radio/2000/07/03/nacional/0962604000_023535.htmlConnelly, M. (2014). Historia de Taiwán. El Colegio de México.Corderos Galdós, H. (agosto, 2002). La denominada cláusula democrática como modalidad de condicionamiento en los Programas de Ayuda al Desarrollo de la Unión Europea. Agenda Internacional, (16), 123–136. https://doi.org/10.18800/agenda.200201.007Donoso Miranda, P. V. (diciembre, 2014). Pensamiento decolonial en Walter Mignolo: América Latina: ¿transformación de la geopolítica del conocimiento? Temas de Nuestra América, 30(56), 45–56.Mignolo, W. D. (2013). Geopolítica de la sensibilidad y del conocimiento: Sobre (de)colonialidad, pensamiento fronterizo y desobediencia epistémica. Revista de Filosofía, 80(1), 7–23.Mora, M. (2008). Decolonizing politics: Zapatista indigenous autonomy in an era of neoliberal governance and low intensity warfare [Tesis doctoral, The University of Texas at Austin]. https://repositories.lib.utexas.edu/server/api/core/bitstreams/68ba681a-a78b-4ddd-9441-32a92b0edf5c/contentOrganización de las Naciones Unidas (1945). Estatuto de la Corte Internacional de Justicia. Carta de las Naciones Unidas.Portal Académico CCH (2017). Historia de México 1, Unidad 4, Intervenciones extranjeras: Inglaterra. Portal Académico CCH. https://e1.portalacademico.cch.unam.mx/alumno/historiademexico1/unidad4/intervencionesextranjeras/inglaterra#:~:text=Razones%20suficientes%20para%20reconocer%20a,poner%20freno%20al%20expansionismo%20estadounidense.Quijano, A., & Wallerstein, I. (1992). La americanidad como concepto, o América en el moderno sistema mundial. Revista Internacional de Ciencias Sociales, XLIV(4), 583–592.Rojas, V. M. (2010). Capítulo séptimo. El reconocimiento internacional. En Rojas, V. M. Derecho internacional público (pp. 61–65). Nostras Ediciones. https://archivos.juridicas.unam.mx/www/bjv/libros/7/3262/3.pdfRomero Losacco, J. (diciembre, 2020). El sistema-mundo más allá de 1492: modernidad, cristiandad y colonialidad: aproximación al giro historiográfico decolonial. Tabula Rasa, (36), 355–376. https://doi.org/10.25058/20112742.n36.14Ruiz, S. M. (mayo, 2019). La colonialidad y el sistema-mundo moderno colonial. Un diálogo entre Quijano y Wallerstein. Espirales, 3(1), 189–197.Villegas, F. G. (2001). México y la Unión Europea en el Sexenio de Zedillo. Foro Internacional, 41(166), 819–839.Wallerstein, I. (2005). Análisis de sistemas-mundo: una introducción. Siglo XXI.Zapata Silva, C. (2008). Edward Said y la otredad cultural. Atenea, (498), 55–73. http://dx.doi.org/10.4067/S0718-04622008000200005

Energy & Economics
Los Angeles, CA USA - May 23 2025 : Donald Trump on Climate Change, Drill Baby Drill

The temporal logic of Trump II’s climate denialism

by Heikki Patomäki

In a landmark advisory opinion, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruled on 23 July 2025 that all UN member states have legal obligations under international law to address climate change, which the court described as an existential threat to life on Earth. Powerful countries too must be held responsible for their current emissions and past inaction. Possibly in anticipation of such a ruling, Chris Wright, the US Secretary of Energy and former chief executive of Liberty Energy (an oilfield services company), published an article in The Economist a week earlier, arguing that “climate change is a by-product of progress, not an existential crisis”. Whereas the ICJ relied primarily on the IPCC reports, “which participants agree constitute the best available science on the causes, nature and consequences of climate change”, Wright’s view is based on a particular temporal logic.  According to the IPCC reports, most greenhouse gases come from burning fossil fuels, with additional emissions from agriculture, deforestation, industry, and waste. They drive global warming, which is projected to reach 1.5°C between 2021 and 2040, with 2°C likely to follow. Even 1.5°C is not considered safe for most nations, communities, and ecosystems, and according to IPCC, only deep, rapid, and sustained emission cuts can slow warming and reduce the escalating risks and damages. The 2024 state of the climate report, published in BioScience, presents even more worrying assessments. Among other things, the report cites surveys indicating that nearly 80% of these scientists anticipate global temperatures increasing by at least 2.5°C above preindustrial levels by the end of the century, and nearly half of them foresee a rise of at least 3°C.  Wright’s article suggests that the issue of amplifying doubt about climate change may have little to do with engagement with science but rather reflects a deeper temporal logic. This logic is rooted in a Whiggish account of progress to date, a resistance to the reality of the future and the desire for nostalgic restoration. I will explain these elements one by one. The first tier: Whiggism Wright disagrees with most scientific anticipations. His views are likely representative not only of the Trump II administration but also of conservative right-wing populism more generally. It is difficult to understand their climate denialism without an analysis of their views on time and temporality. The most important question concerns the reality of the future. At the first level, Wright provides a kind of textbook example of Whig history, portraying progress as linear, inevitable, and driven by liberal values. Herbert Butterfield introduced the idea of Whig history in his influential 1931 book The Whig Interpretation of History as a critique of a specific way of writing history that he regarded as flawed and intellectually dishonest. Focusing on inevitable progress distorts historical analysis by promoting simplified cause-and-effect reasoning and selective storytelling, emphasising present-day evaluation (and glorification) over understanding the real causes of historical change. In a Whiggish manner, Wright claims that the last 200 years have seen two big changes to the human condition: “human liberty” and affordable energy. As a result of these two things, life expectancy has nearly doubled, and the percentage of people living in extreme poverty has dropped from 90% to 10%. However, Wright’s argumentation is based on non-contextual and, in that sense, timeless representations of the world, despite its “progressivism”.  For example, consider the claim that extreme poverty has dropped from 90% to 10%. It is based on using a fixed dollar threshold, such as USD 2 per day, to measure poverty over 200 years. This is misleading because most people in the 19th century lived in largely non-monetised economies where subsistence needs were met outside of market exchange, and monetary income was minimal or irrelevant. These metrics also obscure shifting and context-bound definitions of basic needs; rely on incomplete historical data; and ignore the role of colonial dispossession and structural inequality in shaping global poverty. While it is true that life expectancy has doubled, largely due to improvements in hygiene and healthcare, the idea that extreme poverty has plummeted from 90% to under 10% also ignores the fact that the global population has grown eightfold, affecting the entire Earth system with devastating ecological and geological consequences. It further ignores that the rise in life expectancy and poverty reduction has come not only from liberalism or economic growth more generally but from ethical and political struggles and public health interventions. Often, these struggles have been fought in the name of socialism and won despite capitalist incentives, market mechanisms, and related political forces. The second tier: blockism At a deeper level, Wright’s views seem to presuppose what Roy Bhaskar calls “blockism”: the postulation of a simultaneous conjunctive totality of all events. This may sound abstract, but it has been a common assumption among many 20th-century physicists and philosophers that the universe forms a static, closed totality. This view stems from an atomist ontology, where individuals are seen as abstract, events follow regular patterns, time is viewed as spatial, and laws that can be expressed mathematically are considered reversible.  In such a conception, time appears as just another “spatial” dimension. According to the block universe model, the past, present, and future all exist equally and tenselessly. The universe is imagined as a four-dimensional geometric object, like a “block” of spacetime. Time is not something that “flows” or “passes”; instead, all moments are spatially extended points in a timeless whole. Blockism suggests that change and becoming are not truly real but are simply parts of our subjective experience.  The real challenge is to reconcile Whiggism and blockism. Wright is not a theorist and might not need to worry about the coherence of his ideas, but the issue is that Whiggism assumes movement, direction, and a normatively positive evolution of change, whereas the block universe denies real temporality: there is no becoming, no novelty, no agency – only timeless existence. Some versions of the block universe attempt to preserve development by proposing that the block grows. The “block” expands as new events are added to reality, but in this view, the present defines the upper boundary of the block, and the future is not truly real. This appears to be consistent with what Wright says about climate change. Everything he has to say about global warming is limited to one short paragraph: We will treat climate change as what it is: not an existential crisis but a real, physical phenomenon that is a by-product of progress. Yes, atmospheric CO2 has increased over time – but so has life expectancy. Billions of people have been lifted out of poverty. Modern medicine, telecommunications and global transportation became possible. I am willing to take the modest negative trade-off for this legacy of human advancement. From the ICJ’s perspective, this interpretation is dreadful, as the current impacts of climate change are already at odds with the rights of many groups of people. It also exhibits basic injustice, as many of the groups that suffer the most from these impacts have done next to nothing to cause the problem. However, here I am mostly concerned with the temporality of Wright’s claims. This temporality is a combination of Whiggism and blockism: so far, history has exhibited progress, but time and processes stop here, in our present moment. The third tier: nostalgia Wright’s view of time is not limited to an ultimately incoherent combination of Whiggism and blockism. There is also more than a mere hint of nostalgia. This is evident in the appeal of a Golden Age at the outset of his article: I am honoured to advance President Donald Trump’s policy of bettering lives through unleashing a golden age of energy dominance – both at home and around the world. The appeal to the Golden Age somewhat contradicts Whiggism. From a nostalgic perspective, it seems that society has been on a downward trajectory instead of progressing. In other words, regression must be possible. Within an overall Whiggish narrative, one can blame certain actors, such as the Democrats in the US political context, for causing moral and political decline.  A nationalist narrative of a “golden age” and a return to a better past (“making us great again”) is essentially connected to the denial of planetary-scale problems, such as climate change, that would clearly require novel global responses. Climate change from a real-time perspective By merging Whiggism with a block-universe ontology (either static or growing), one ends up with a pseudo-historicism that speaks of “progress” while erasing real time. In a way, such a view “performs change” through a highly selective historical narrative, while denying the ontological preconditions of real change. Real change – emergence, transformation, causation – requires a temporal ontology, where the future is real though not yet fully determined. Thus, there is no mention of global emissions that have continued to rise, their delayed effects, feedback loops, or emergent risks given multiple processes of intertwined changes. Are the basic IPCC models based on real historical time? IPCC models often treat the climate system as a bounded system with internally consistent and deterministic dynamics. The IPCC relies on modelling and uses Bayesian methods to assess uncertainties in climate projections. Bayesian statistics involve updating the probability of a hypothesis as more evidence becomes available, based on prior knowledge (priors) and new data (likelihoods). Such an approach tends to be conservative (based on moving averages, for example) and assumes the quantifiability of uncertainty. It may also convey illusory precision, especially when the underlying models or data are uncertain or incomplete. The IPCC models nonetheless indicate – in contrast to Wright – that the future is real, though the future is approached in a somewhat cautious and deterministic manner. However, many climate scientists go beyond the IPCC consensus by assuming that global heating may reach 2.5 °C or even above 3 °C degree warming by the end of the century.  From a critical scientific realist viewpoint, even such anticipations may be too circumspect. Assuming exponential growth (involving cascading events etc.) and given that recent data shows a rise from 1.0°C to 1.5°C in just 15 years (actual data taken on an annual basis, not moving averages), and using this as a basis for anticipating the future, we seem likely to reach the 2 °C mark in the 2040s and the 3 °C mark in the 2060s.  The plausibility of anticipations depends significantly on how the real openness of the future is treated. Anticipations are reflexive and can shape the future. Real time and historical change involves human freedom and ethics. The evolving universe, where time is real, is stratified, processual, and open-ended. Time involves genuine processes, real possibilities, agency, and emergent structures. Such characteristics indicate that the future is not predetermined but can be shaped by transformative agency.  To sum up, from a real historical time perspective, Wright’s combination of Whiggism, blockism, and nostalgia is a recipe for reactionary politics. Glorifying the present, thinking in a timeless way, and longing for a golden age of the past can play a major role in bringing about a dystopian planetary future.

Energy & Economics
Amsterdam, The Netherlands - Thursday, August 27, 2020 - Photo of early edition book, Adam Smith The Wealth of Nations

The Relationship Between Energy and Capital: Insights from The Wealth of Nations

by Simon Mair

Abstract To deliver low-carbon transitions, we must understand the dynamics of capital. To this end, I develop a theory of energy-capital relations by reading Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations from an energy-analysis perspective. I argue that, for Smith, capital is any resource used to support production with the intention of generating profits through market exchange. In The Wealth of Nations, capital enables access to new sources of energy and increases energy efficiency. This theory of energy-capital relations explains trends seen in historical energy data: because it is profit driven, capital does not save energy, it redirects it to new uses. This suggests that low-carbon investment can only enable a low-carbon transition if coupled to a systematic challenge to the profit drive.JEL Classification: B12, O44, P18, Q43, Q57Keywordseconomic growth, low-carbon transitions, Adam Smith, history of economic thought, capital, energy, capitalism 1. Introduction: Energy, Capital and Low-Carbon Transitions Under Capitalism To date, the green rhetoric of states and companies has not led to meaningful reductions in carbon emissions. In absolute terms, annual global carbon emissions from fossil fuels increased from ~6 gigatons of carbon per year in 1990 to ~10 gigatons of carbon per year in 2022 (Friedlingstein et al. 2023). Carbon emissions are largely driven by the energy system that supports the capitalist economy, and there is no evidence that this is decarbonizing at the global scale. In 2020, fossil fuels accounted for around 80 percent of total world energy supply, the same figure as in 1990 (IEA 2022). In 2022 carbon emissions from fossil fuels accounted for around 90 percent of total global carbon emissions, up from 80 percent in 1990 (Friedlingstein et al. 2023). Carbon emissions from energy and industrial processes hit an all-time high in 2023 (IEA 2024). To change this increasingly dire picture, it is essential that we understand the economic drivers of emissions, and what economic changes are needed to reverse current trends. There is disagreement over the extent and nature of economic change needed to facilitate a low-carbon energy transition. Radical economists agree that the global reliance on fossil fuels will require going beyond market-based solutions (Li 2011; Pianta and Lucchese 2020; Pollin 2019). But this still leaves us with a broad spectrum of options (Chester 2014). Can a low-carbon transition be implemented within a broadly capitalist framework if it is guided by an interventionist industrial strategy (Pollin 2015)? Or does it require changes to fundamental capitalist dynamics (Davis 2019; Riley 2023)? To cast new light on these debates, I take a step back from the immediate issues and take a history of economic thought approach. To this end, I explore the relationship between capital and energy in Adam Smith’s (1975) The Wealth of Nations. I use the resulting view of energy-capital relations to put forward an explanation of how energy use has developed under capitalism, and to explain why a low-carbon transition is unlikely without addressing core capitalist dynamics. The decision to develop the analysis of energy-capital relations from The Wealth of Nations is grounded in the more general epistemological claim that returning to older works of economic theory is a useful way to conduct economic analysis. Blaug (1990) reminds us that all current economic theory is built from seldom read historical texts, and historians of economic thought have argued that revisiting these texts offers the opportunity to uncover new ways of interpreting key ideas, providing theoretical context that may have been forgotten (Bögenhold 2021; Schumpeter 1954). Additionally, actively engaging with historical thought presents the possibility for moments of creativity as old and new ideas are brought together. For example, Mair, Druckman, and Jackson (2020) use an analysis of economic ideas in utopian texts from the twelfth to nineteenth centuries to develop a vision of work in a post-growth future, and Stratford (2020, 2023) develops a theory of rents and resource extraction grounded in an analysis of the historical evolution of the concept of rent. The general approach of critical engagement with history of thought is perhaps best developed in the Marxist literature, where a substantive body of work draws on Marx’s writings to critically explore environment-economy relationships (e.g., Malm 2016; Moore 2017; Pirgmaier 2021; Saitō 2022). On the other hand, relatively little attention has been paid to Adam Smith in the context of ecological or environmental economic analysis. Most recent interest in Smith’s environmental thought has come from environmental historians (see Steeds 2024 for a review). However, Steeds (2024), building on Jonsson (2014), has made the case for reading Smith as an ecological economist, arguing that Smith shares core ontological precepts of the discipline—notably that it is the environment that underpins all economic activity. Smith (1975) is particularly relevant to debates about low-carbon transitions because The Wealth of Nations is the starting point for an interpretation of capital theory that has become widely used in energy-economy analyses. Capital theory itself has a long and storied history, with analysts giving it a variety of characteristics (Cannan 1921; Kurz 1990; Mair 2022). Contemporary economic analyses of energy generally use a physical concept of capital. A common position for economists who focus on energy is that energy is important because energy use and capital are “quantity complements”: all else equal, when capital increases the energy used in production increases (Elkomy, Mair, and Jackson 2020; Finn 2000; Sakai et al. 2019). Conceived of as “representative machinery,” capital is seen as the physical stuff that channels energy use into production (Keen, Ayres, and Standish 2019: 41). Or as Daly (1968: 397) puts it, “physical capital is essentially matter that is capable of trapping energy and channeling it to human purposes.” This physical conception has its roots in the dominant interpretation of capital from The Wealth of Nations. Prior to The Wealth of Nations, capital was a predominantly monetary construct, but historians of economic thought argue that after The Wealth of Nations, capital is taken to be predominantly physical (Hodgson 2014; Schumpeter 1954). However, I argue that Smith’s view of capital is actually a long way from the almost purely physical views seen in much energy-economy work. Rather, Smith’s view of capital is proto-Marxist. As Evensky (2005: 141) puts it, “Whether or not it was from Smith that Marx developed his notion of capital as self-expanding value, the outlines of that conception were certainly available to him in Smith.” From Smith’s perspective, capital is defined primarily as a socio-physical construct (Blaug 1990; Evensky 2005; Meek 1954). Capital sometimes has physical forms, which enables it to interact with flows of energy, but these are always conditioned by the social dynamics of profit and exchange. Making a direct connection to energy requires reading Smith from the contemporary perspective of energy-economy analysis as developed by the subdisciplines of ecological, biophysical, and exergy economics (Brockway et al. 2019; Jackson 1996; Keen, Ayres, and Standish 2019; Smil 2017a). This is because, as a construct, “capital” pre-dates “energy,” and Smith was writing before the first recorded use of the term energy as we would understand it today (by physicist Thomas Young in 1807, see: Frontali 2014). So although work into energy—particularly among ecological economists and their forerunners in energy systems analysis (Cleveland et al. 1984; Odum 1973; Sakai et al. 2019)—uses a concept of capital that has its roots in an interpretation of Smith’s capital theory, explicit links are missing in Smith’s text. Despite this, Steeds (2024) argues that Smith’s analysis of agriculture shows an understanding of what contemporary analysts would call energy, a theme I develop here focusing on Smith’s conceptualization of capital. The rest of this article is structured as follows. In section 2, I set out an interpretation of Smith’s capital theory from The Wealth of Nations that emphasizes the way it sees physical elements of capital as defined by social forces. In section 3, I outline the ways that energy fits into Smith’s theory of capital. This is the first contribution of the article, as I make novel links between Smith’s capital theory and contemporary energy-economy analysis. In section 4, I apply this interpretation of energy-capital relations to the historical evolution of energy use under capitalism, and the question of low-carbon transitions. This is the second contribution of the article, as I argue that Smith’s capital theory highlights the importance of the social context of energy systems. Specifically, it provides compelling explanations for the phenomenon of “energy additions”—where past “transitions” under capitalism have been associated with the overall growth of energy use (York and Bell 2019). This implies that the challenge of a low-carbon transition is not only investment in low-carbon energy systems but in challenging the logic of capitalism such that low-carbon energy can replace, rather than add to, the use of high-carbon energy. 2. Capital as a Socio-physical Construct in The Wealth of Nations Interpretations of Smith’s capital theory generally emphasize its physical aspects (e.g., Cannan 1921; Hodgson 2014; Schumpeter 1954). These readings focus on Smith’s initial description of capital as a subset of the accumulation of the physical outputs of production (in Smith’s terminology “stock” [cf. Smith 1975: 279]), and the skills and abilities of workers (Smith 1975: 282). The focus on physical aspects of Smith’s capital theory makes sense from a history of ideas perspective. The physical aspects of Smith’s capital stand in contrast with earlier definitions that were primarily monetary (Hodgson 2014). There is also an intellectual lineage that can be traced in Smith’s views on capital, principally through Smith’s relationship with the French Physiocratic school whose own economic analysis emphasized physical flows (Meek 1954; Schumpeter 1954). However, the fact that Smith introduced a new role for physical goods within a broader concept of capital does not imply that Smith’s theory of capital was purely physical (Robinson 1962). Rather, Smith views capital as the accumulated monetary and physical resources that are brought into production to generate a profit. To see this, let us look first at Smith’s view of circulating capital. Smith splits capital into two forms, circulating and fixed, and he is explicit that circulating capital has both monetary and physical forms. For Smith, circulating capital is defined by the fact that to turn a profit from it, its owner must give it up in exchange for something else. Consequently, circulating capital takes multiple forms: it is the money that will be used to pay wages to a worker, the product produced by that worker, the money realized at the point of sale of the product, and the commodities purchased using the money realized. As Smith (1975: 279) puts it, circulating capital is continually going from the capitalist “in one shape, and returning to him in another. . . it is only by means of such circulation. . . that it can yield him any profit.” Circulating capital is a process of purchasing and selling resources, often with a monetary form, in order to make more money (Evensky 2005). Circulating capital has different forms (some physical, some not) at different points in its circulation, but it is consistently capital. Even when capital takes on its physical form, for Smith it is the underlying social dynamics of exchange and profit that define it as capital. In his opening to book 2, Smith argues that capital is an emergent property of exchange-based economies (Smith 1975: 276). In a society with no division of labor, he argues, people are self-sufficient, and there is very little exchange. But once you have a division of labor, you get exchange because each worker uses their labor to produce a subset of the goods needed to live. Other workers use their labor to produce a different subset of goods. The two then trade with one another to ensure all their needs are met. Drawing on the work of the Physiocrats, Smith then observes that production takes time (Schumpeter 1954). Consequently, in a market system, the purchasing of goods from other people “cannot be made till such time as the produce of his own labor has not only been completed, but sold” (Smith 1975: 276). This means that in either a monetary or barter economy, there has to be a stock of physical goods previously accumulated in order to enable work to happen before the products of that work have been sold (or are available for barter). For Smith, these goods are a form of capital. In this sense, capital can be physical commodities—but physical commodities accumulated in order to support exchange. For Smith, profits are also an essential part of the definition of capital (Meek 1954). Whether fixed or circulating, physical or monetary, what makes something capital is the desire of the capitalist to earn money from it (e.g., Smith 1975: 281, 332). Smith’s theory of profit is scattered through The Wealth of Nations and is not entirely comprehensive (Blaug 1990; Christensen 1979). However, Smith does identify a construct called profits with some core tendencies that are sufficient to group him in the classical approach to profit as surplus and deduction (Hirsch 2021; Kurz 1990; Meek 1977). For Smith, surplus is primarily derived from the value that labor adds to raw materials. This value then goes to pay the wages of the worker and other costs of production, one of which is “the profits of their employer” (Smith 1975: 66). So, Smith’s theory of profit is deductive. Profit is the money capitalists attempt to gain back from production after all costs—including wages—have been accounted for (Meek 1977). An important addition here is that the profit drive for Smith is speculative: capitalists bring capital to support production because they “expect” to generate more money (Smith 1975: 279, 332)—it is not guaranteed. The attempt to gain profit is because capitalists use this as their income (cf. Smith 1975: 69, 279). This attempt is central to the dynamics of capital because profit is the “sole motive” that a capitalist has for bringing their resources into the exchange cycle of the economy (Smith 1975: 374). To summarize, for Smith, capital is the accumulated resources (whether physical or monetary) brought to bear in support of exchange-based production, the ultimate aim of which is to provide the owner of capital with an income (profits). Consequently, it is not correct to view Smith’s capital theory as purely or even predominantly physical. Rather Smith’s capital is a socio-physical construct. This interpretation is not a refutation of other readings that emphasize the physical aspect of Smith’s theory. The physical elements are present, are important, and are relevant to our discussion of energy. However, the underlying premise is always that these physical elements are defined by social relations of profits and exchange. This analysis fits with readings of Smith that see his capital theory as proto-Marxist because of the way it frames capital in terms of social relations (Hodgson 2014; Pack 2013; Tsoulfidis and Paitaridis 2012). But it strongly cautions away from discussions of capital that abstract from these social relations in ways that leave capital as purely physical things. As with Marx (2013), when Smith talks about capital as physical things, his focus is on the way the physical interacts with social relations. 3. How Does Energy Fit into Smith’s Capital Theory? Having sketched an interpretation of Smith’s capital theory focusing on the interplay of profit, exchange dynamics, and monetary and physical resources, we can turn to the question of how energy fits into Smith’s capital theory. In this section, I draw on energy-economy analysis to suggest two key ways in which energy might fit into Smith’s capital theory: 1. Capital is used to bring new energy sources into production.2. Capital is used to make existing energy flows more efficient. 3.1. Accessing new energy sources For Smith, one of the key ways that capitalists aim to generate profits from capital is by using it to increase labor productivity (in Smith’s terms “abridging” labor, see: Smith 1975: 17, 282). Here we have a link to energy-economy analysis, where labor productivity is often described in terms of substituting human labor for other forms of energy—since the industrial revolution this has typically happened through some form of fossil fuel–powered machinery (Smil 2017a). Smith discusses machinery in a number of places across The Wealth of Nations. Indeed, Kurz (2010: 1188) writes that one of Smith’s key growth mechanisms is the replacement of “labor power by machine power.” In chapter 11 of book 1 of The Wealth of Nations (Smith 1975: 263), Smith discusses how cloth production in Italy was made more productive than in England by employing wind and water mills in the former, while the latter treaded it by foot. This is the same example pointed to by energy scientist Vaclav Smil (2017a), who argues that the introduction of waterwheels into industrial production were a source of substantive labor productivity growth. Energy-analysis allows us to say why the wind and water is more productive than the treading. Energy provides a variety of functions, known as “energy services,” which are essential for production processes (Grubler et al. 2012). These are intuitive when put in the context of everyday experiences: achieving a comfortable temperature in an office or workplace requires thermal energy. Transporting goods or people requires kinetic energy. In the case of cloth production, the fulling process requires kinetic energy to manipulate the fibers of the cloth. To deliver energy services, energy sources go through a series of transformations, known as the conversion chain (Brockway et al. 2019; Grubler et al. 2012). Energy is accessible to us through different carriers—known as primary energy sources (such as food, oil, or gas). In most use cases primary energy sources are then converted into other forms before delivering their service (Smil 2017b). This conversion is done by “conversion technologies.” Muscles are a “technology” that can be used to convert the chemical energy in food into mechanical energy. Oil or solar energy may be converted into electricity. Different economic processes may use multiple forms of energy with energy from multiple carriers requiring transformation multiple times. From the perspective of increasing labor productivity, what is important is having energy available to do “useful” work (meaning provide the specific energy services that serve the interests of the system) (Brockway et al. 2019). The more energy available to do useful work, the more economic activity can be carried out per person. One way to increase the amount of useful energy available is by adding new primary energy sources to the system. This process often requires new conversion processes that enable the energy in the primary energy sources to be accessed and converted into energy services. In the case of cloth production, the introduction of wind or water mills is an example of capital taking the form of a new conversion technology that enables access to a different primary energy source (Smil 2017b). In the human-powered treading process, solar energy is converted into chemical energy through the agricultural system. The chemical energy in food products acts as the primary energy source. People then eat this food, converting it to mechanical energy that manipulates the cloth as they tread it under foot. On the other hand, a wind or water mill introduces a new conversion technology that enables access to the energy available in wind and water by converting it into mechanical energy. Note that this process is not only about energy efficiency. Wind and water mills are typically more energy efficient than human-power, but just as crucially they are more powerful: they bring a greater quantity of energy into the process of cloth production (Smil 2017b). The importance of scale is seen across energy-economy analysis. Hall and Klitgaard (2012: 117) draw on Polyani’s (1944) substantive definition of an economy to argue that all economic activity is the application of work to transform natural resources into goods and services. In the past, most of the work of transformation was done through muscle-power, but today muscle-power is a much smaller proportion of total work carried out because of the development of machinery that allows us to supplement our muscles with the “‘large muscles’ of fossil fuels.” 3.2. Increasing energy efficiency There are places in The Wealth of Nations where we might hypothesize about energy efficiency gains explicitly. For instance, Smith tells an apocryphal tale involving a child and a fire engine, presented as an example of innovation leading to labor productivity growth. Smith writes that in the earliest fire engines a boy would be employed to open and shut different valves, until one such boy finds a way to connect the valves such that they “open and shut without his assistance” (Smith 1975: 20). Such an innovation adjusts capital in order to enable it to convert more of the primary energy source into useful energy. Prior to the boy’s innovation, the system required two primary energy inputs: the fossil energy to power the machine, and the food energy to power the boy. Once the boy innovates, the primary energy associated with his action is removed from the process and the machine uses only the fossil energy, thus increasing its overall energy efficiency. But machinery is not the only way in which humans’ access and turn energy flows toward growth of the economy in Smith’s capital theory. Smith considers the useful abilities of workers to be a form of capital and here we can see another place where energy efficiency may fit into Smiths capital theory. When defining the useful abilities of workers Smith refers to dexterity: the skills and abilities acquired by workers through the repetition and simplification of tasks. When defining dexterity Smith talks about it in terms of efficiency gains. For example, a worker specializing in the production of nails will become more skilled in their production, and hence more efficient (Smith 1975: 18). But nowhere does Smith imply that an increase in dexterity is miraculous. And although it is intimately bound up with social organization through the division of labor, we can see how energy may fit into the process. Specifically, the increase in dexterity can be understood as partly a function of the fact that energy flows are being used more efficiently. Workers learn the best way to stir the fire, to heat iron and shape the head of the nail. An increase in the skill of a worker enables them to use energy more efficiently. In this way, more efficient use of energy flows can be seen as one of the ways that the division of labor enables increases in productivity. 3.3. Summary of the energy-capital relation in The Wealth of Nations Smith views capital as the monetary and physical resources that are brought by capitalists into exchange processes with the intention of generating an income for themselves. Smith, like Marx, is clear that all production ultimately rests on inputs from the natural environment, so it is not surprising that in The Wealth of Nations we found examples of a subset of capital that generates profits by changing the way energy is used in production processes. Specifically, I presented two mechanisms that can be identified in The Wealth of Nations: bringing new energy sources into the economy (the transition from human power to wind and waterpower in the fulling process), and being made more energy efficient (through machinery innovations and specialization of labor). We can now apply this interpretation of Smith’s energy-capital theory to the question of low-carbon transitions. The examples I have elaborated support Steeds (2024: 35) notion that Smith has an “intuitive” understanding of energy. Some of the critical functions of Smith’s conception of capital can be explained in terms of how it mediates our relationship to energy. In this way, Smith’s reading is close to more modern accounts of the role of energy (Keen, Ayres, and Standish 2019, Sakai et al. 2019). But what differentiates Smith’s from these accounts is an explicit emphasis on the social context in which energy is used by capital. Some accounts of the energy-economy relationship effectively, or explicitly, reduce production to energy use. In Smith’s account by contrast, energy use is framed and shaped by social forces. Recalling Smith’s core understanding of capital from section 2, it is clear that energy is being harnessed by capital in an attempt to generate profits within a market process. In other words, in a capitalist economy where most production follows the logic of capital, the major driver of energy use will be the attempt to generate incomes for the owners of capital. This insight, though simple, is often overlooked and has profound implications for a low-carbon transition. 4. A Smithian Analysis of Low-Carbon Transitions Under Capitalism In this section, I apply the insights from the reading of Smith’s capital theory to historical data on energy use under capitalism. I argue that the theory provides a simple and compelling explanation for the constant expansion of energy use as new forms of energy have been added to the mix. Capitalists seek to use energy to grow their profits; therefore, they invest in efficiency measures or new energy sources in order to increase the total energy available to them. Energy is never saved in the sense of not being used. Rather, it is made available to new profit-seeking ventures. Across both mainstream and radical interventions into low-carbon transition debates, there is often a focus on the investment needed to grow low-carbon and energy efficiency programs (e.g., Hrnčić et al. 2021; Pollin 2015, 2019; Qadir et al. 2021). The central argument in these works is that low-carbon transitions require substantial but not unreasonable levels of investment in low-carbon energy and energy efficiency programs. Approaching this from the perspective of energy-capital relations developed in this article, we are looking at the need to transition capital from one conversion technology to another. Today, much capital takes the form of conversion technologies designed to access the energy in fossil fuels. For a low-carbon economy we need capital to take the form of conversion technologies that can access energy in wind, solar, or other low-carbon forms. It is tempting to think about this in terms of the transition described by Smith from labor power to wind power in the fulling process. However, there is a fundamental difference between the transition from one energy source to another as developed in The Wealth of Nations, and that needed in the low-carbon transition. Historically, transitions between dominant energy sources under capitalism have been consistent with Smith’s argument that capital is only motivated by the desire for profit. Past energy transitions under capitalism have been driven by a search for greater profits enabled by the new energy sources, not by pro-social or pro-ecological values. For example, Malm (2016) argues that the English transition from wood to water was driven by the desire of capitalists to concentrate and better control their workforce, simultaneously reducing losses from theft, making workers more efficient, and bringing a greater scale of energy into the production process. The consequence of the consistent searching for profits in capitalist energy transitions is that we have very few examples of energy sources declining under capitalism at the macro-scale. Under capitalism, energy transitions are better described as energy additions (York and Bell 2019). In recent decades, there has been a remarkable growth in the use of low-carbon energy sources, but at no point in this period has energy production from fossil fuels decreased (figure 1; Malanima 2022). Indeed, looking at the evolution of 9 categories of primary energy sources since 1820 (figure 1), only fodder has seen a prolonged decrease under capitalism. For instance, in absolute terms, energy from coal overtakes fuelwood as the largest primary energy carrier in the late 1800s. But after this point the energy supplied by fuelwood continues to grow. Even in the case of fodder, although it has been in decline for approximately sixty years it still provided more than twice as much energy in 2020 than it did in 1820. Looking specifically at low-carbon fuels, the charts for renewables and nuclear energy show dramatic spikes and rapid growth. But these spikes do not coincide with declines in any other fuel source, and the International Energy Agency (IEA 2023a, 2023b) reports that 2022 was an all-time high for coal production, and forecasts record oil production in 2024.   Figure 2 depicts global energy efficiency, the scale of global production, and the total primary energy use 1820–2018. Energy efficiency of the global capitalist economy has improved drastically over the two-hundred-year period covered: in 2018, producing one unit of output took only 40 percent of the energy it would have taken in 1820. But as energy efficiency has grown, so has total energy use and total output, and these changes dwarf the gains in energy efficiency. In 2018, 41 times as much energy was used as in 1820, while global production grew by 2 orders of magnitude over the same period.   From the lens of our interpretation of Smith’s capital theory, the constant expansion of fossil fuel use alongside renewables and energy efficiency gains is not surprising. The purpose of capital development and deployment in our Smithian lens is to increase income for capitalists by facilitating exchange. So, we would expect capitalists to invest in capital that enables them to access new sources of energy, like renewables, in order to bring a greater scale and quantity of energy into production. But we would also expect them to continue to invest in fossil fuels for the same reasons. More energy means more production means more profit. Likewise, we would expect capitalists to use their capital to increase energy efficiency: this reduces their costs. But we would also expect capitalists to take subsequent energy savings and use them to increase production further. As energy is used more efficiently in any given process, more energy is available to be used elsewhere in the economy or, as new energy sources are brought into production, the old sources are made available for new processes (Garrett 2014; Sakai et al. 2019; York and Bell 2019). As long as the capitalist appetite for greater incomes is present, they will seek to direct energy “savings” into new or expanded forms of production. The practical implication of this theoretical analysis is that investment in low-carbon energy sources and energy efficiency measures—no matter how bold the proposals—will not succeed without a change to the social dynamics of capitalist production. Achieving a low-carbon transition therefore requires the formidable task of coupling a large and sustained investment program in renewables and energy efficiency with a challenge to the structural logic of capital. This requires wide-ranging shifts within capitalist economies to build low-carbon energy infrastructure and develop ways of producing that disrupt the constant profit chasing of capital. The former is required to ensure action can begin now, while the latter is needed to ensure that low-carbon investments do not simply continue to expand the energy base of capitalist production. Elaborating on such possibilities is beyond the scope of this article. However, there are research programs that seek to understand alternatives to profit-driven capitalist production, notably work in post-capitalism and the post-growth/degrowth literatures that identify noncapitalist logics of production (Gibson-Graham 2014; Colombo, Bailey, and Gomes, 2024; Mair 2024; Vandeventer, Lloveras, and Warnaby 2024). A useful future direction for research lies in asking how such non-capitalist modes of production might be scaled and applied to the global energy system. 5. Conclusion In this article I have used a history of economic thought approach to analyze the relationship between energy and capital. Rereading The Wealth of Nations, I argued that Smith’s theory of capital is fundamentally socio-physical. Smith views capital as any accumulated resource that is used to support the exchange cycle of the market economy with the expectation that this will return a profit for the owner of the resource. Based on this reading, I argued that there are two ways in which energy might enter into Adam Smith’s capital theory: (1) capital is used to bring new energy sources into production; and (2) capital is used to make existing energy flows more efficient. Using this view of energy-capital relations, we can explain the major trends in historical energy-capital relations under capitalism. Over the last two hundred years, energy use has grown continuously, and the incorporation of new primary energy sources has not systematically led to reductions in older primary energy sources. This is consistent with the idea that capital is used to bring new energy sources into production. Investment in renewables is what we would expect: renewable energy technology allows capitalists to access new primary energy sources. They use this to generate more profits. They continue to invest in fossil fuel technology for the same reasons. Over the last two hundred years, there have been substantive gains in energy efficiency, and these have not led to reductions in energy use. This is consistent with the idea that capital is used to make energy use more efficient. The motivation of capitalists to make energy more efficient is to be more profitable. They then take energy savings from energy efficiency gains and use these to increase production, in an attempt to make more profits. The implication of this analysis is that investment in low-carbon technology and energy efficiency is the (relatively!) easy part of achieving a low-carbon transition. These dynamics are fundamentally compatible with the logics of capital. The barrier to achieving a low-carbon transition is that as long as this investment takes the form of “capital” (i.e., it chases profits and supports exchange processes), then it is unlikely that investment in renewables or energy efficiency programs will reduce energy use from fossil fuels. To achieve a low-carbon transition we must invest in low-carbon technology and energy efficiency, while simultaneously developing new organizational forms that challenge the capitalist dynamics of expansion and accumulation. AcknowledgmentsI would like to thank Christiane Heisse, Don Goldstein, and Robert McMaster, for their careful reviews and Enid Arvidson for her editorial work, all of which greatly improved the article. I would like to thank participants of the workshops Economic Theory for the Anthropocene (organized by the Centre for the Understanding of Sustainable Prosperity and the University of Surrey Institute for Advanced Studies) and The Political Economy of Capitalism (organized by the Institute for New Economic Thinking Young Scholar Initiative working groups on the Economics of Innovation and Economic History). Particular thanks to Richard Douglas, Angela Druckman, Ben Gallant, Elena Hofferberth, Tim Jackson, Andy Jarvis, Mary O’Sullivan, and Elke Pirgmaier for fruitful discussions. I would like to thank the Marxist Internet Archive for making The Wealth of Nations freely available.Declaration of Conflicting InterestsThe author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was partly funded by the Economic and Social Research Council through the Centre for the Understanding of Sustainability, grant no. ES/M010163/1.ORCID iDSimon Mair https://orcid.org/0000-0001-5143-8668Note1 The full sources for the Maddison Project Database are Abad and Van Zanden (2016); Álvarez-Nogal and De La Escosura (2013); Baffigi (2011); Barro and Ursúa (2008); Bassino et al. (2019); Bértola et al. (2012); Bértola (2016); Broadberry et al. (2015); Broadberry, Custodis, and Gupta (2015); Broadberry, Guan, and Li (2018); Buyst (2011); Cha et al. 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Diplomacy
Trump, Putin Alaska Arrival (9260680)

Why Peace in Ukraine Remains Elusive

by Nicholas Morieson , Ihsan Yilmaz

Donald Trump declared his Alaska summit with Vladimir Putin a success, despite contrasting evidence suggesting otherwise. On Truth Social, he said a peace agreement over Ukraine, not a mere ceasefire, was the right path, claims he echoed during follow-up talks in Washington with Volodymyr Zelensky and European leaders. “Potentially, millions of people’s lives will be saved,” Trump said. That optimism looks misplaced. For Putin, Ukraine is not merely a bargaining chip but a territory he views as part of a Russian “civilization-state.” When he meets with Western leaders, he is not negotiating over land; he frames the war as a defense of Russian civilization and its values. As a result, Putin cannot easily “make a deal” involving land swaps to end the conflict.  Russia’s civilisational project  In addition to civilisational rhetoric, other factors contribute to Putin’s intransigence. Strategic concerns about NATO, fears for regime security, and the material importance of Crimea and the Black Sea all shape Moscow’s stance. Yet the language of civilisation turns these into matters of identity and survival. It fuses practical interests with existential claims, making retreat even harder. Even if compromises were possible on security or economics, the civilisational frame casts them as betrayals of Russia’s destiny.  Some American policymakers have tended to read Russia as a state with interests that can be traded. However, Putin accounts for Russia not simply as a nation-state, but as a civilization rooted in Orthodoxy, empire, and the memory of Soviet power. Viewed through this prism, Ukraine is not a foreign neighbour, but an inseparable part of Russian history and identity, which must be defended against Western encroachment.  In his 2021 essay On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians, Putin claimed that Russians and Ukrainians are “one people,” and that Ukraine is “an inalienable part of our own history, culture, and spiritual space.” Whatever his private convictions, the function of this language is clear. It justifies annexation and occupation, and it raises the political cost of retreat by treating territorial issues as matters of civilisational survival.   Putin himself insists that “the West” does not understand that “the Ukraine crisis is not a territorial conflict … and not an attempt to establish regional geopolitical balance.” Instead, he says, it is rooted in “the principles underlying the new international order” he is building. Peace, in this new order, is possible only “when everyone feels safe and secure, understands that their opinions are respected” and when “no one can unilaterally force …others to live or behave as a hegemon pleases even when it contradicts the sovereignty …traditions, or customs of peoples and countries.”    This framing lets the Kremlin portray the West as the aggressor imposing alien norms on unwilling Ukrainians. Russia, by contrast, is said to be fighting for itself on behalf of all nations who wish to see western hegemony end and the birth of a new multipolar world. Moreover, it portrays Ukraine’s status as a civilisational question tied to identity and resistance to Western liberal norms. As a result, only a settlement that Putin present domestically as recognition of Russia’s civilisational standing is acceptable, which complicates compromise beyond what standard diplomatic formulas suggest.  Challenges to Trump’s pursuit of peace  Trump has made no secret of his desire to be remembered as a peacemaker. However, he also admires strong leaders and has shown sympathy for post-liberal arguments that liberal democracy is exhausted. These affinities bring him closer, at least rhetorically, to elements of Putin’s stance.  Admiration and aspiration alone are insufficient in bridging the gap between Putin and Trump’s positions on Ukraine’s independence. Putin frames the conflict as existential, defending Russian civilisation against Western encroachment. This  makes compromise especially difficult. If the war is understood in these terms, how can Moscow return occupied territories without undermining its own civilisational claim? How can it accept a Ukraine that leans towards the European Union, or tolerate an American presence on its soil?  Trump may want peace, but Putin has tied his legitimacy to a narrative that resists it. Unless that framing is abandoned, or radically reinterpreted, any settlement will remain elusive.  A wider trend  “Russia’s approach is part of a wider pattern in which civilisational claims have become central to how leaders justify power and resist compromise. Xi Jinping frames China as a five-thousand-year-old civilisation whose territory includes Taiwan and the South China Sea. He presents the Communist Party as the guardian of a civilisational tradition stretching back to Confucius, giving contemporary disputes an aura of timeless legitimacy. Narendra Modi portrays India as an ancient Hindu civilisation restoring its rightful place after centuries of foreign domination. Each case is distinct, but the message is similar: our civilisation is exceptional, our sovereignty absolute, and our values not up for negotiation.    A troubled summit  Against this backdrop, the Alaska meeting was never likely to produce more than gestures. Trump may genuinely want peace and to be remembered as the leader who ended the war. Yet he is dealing with a counterpart who has justified the invasion of Ukraine in civilisational and existential terms. For Putin, Ukraine is not only territory but a symbol of Russia’s identity and sovereignty, cast as a bulwark against Western encroachment. Within this frame, Russia would view restoring Ukraine’s borders, accepting its European orientation, or tolerating a long-term American presence in the region as defeats of principle rather than concessions of interest.  Trump’s ambition to end the war faces an almost insoluble dilemma. Europe will reject a settlement that rewards aggression, while Putin refuses to surrender territory he has cast as integral to Russian civilisation. Land swaps seem practical but please neither side. If the conflict were to remains frozen, Ukraine will be fractured and the deeper issues unresolved. Peace demands compromise, but compromise undermines the very narratives on which Moscow has built its legitimacy. As a result, unless Putin retreats from his civilisational framing of the war, any settlement will remain elusive and Ukraine’s future uncertain.  Dr Nicholas Morieson is a Research Fellow at the Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation, Deakin University, Melbourne. He is the author of three books, including Weaponizing Civilizationalism for Authoritarianism: How Turkey, India, Russia, and China Challenge Liberal Democracy (Palgrave 2025).  This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

Energy & Economics
Global business connection concept. Double exposure world map on capital financial city and trading graph background. Elements of this image furnished by NASA

Liaison countries as foreign trade bridge builders in the geo-economic turnaround

by Eva Willer

Introduction Geopolitical tensions are making global trade increasingly difficult. In order to reduce the associated risk of default, companies are shifting their trade relations to trading partners that are politically similar to them. In the course of the beginnings of geo-economic fragmentation, politically and economically like-minded countries are also gaining in importance for German and European decision-makers. Liaison countries1 in particular can form a counterforce to the trend towards polarization in foreign trade - especially between the USA and China: they are characterized by a pronounced economic and trade policy openness that overrides differences between geopolitical or ideological camps. Consequently, the question arises: How can relevant connecting countries for Germany and Europe be identified? What opportunities and risks do closer trade relations with these countries offer in order to strengthen foreign trade resilience in geopolitically uncertain times?  With a high degree of openness - defined as the sum of imports and exports in relation to gross domestic product - of over 80 percent2 , the German economy is strongly integrated into global trade. Accordingly, the disruptive effect of geo-economic fragmentation on the German economy would be above average. The defensive strategy to strengthen Germany's economic security by pushing for trade policy independence would only reinforce geo-economic fragmentation. Against the backdrop of comparatively high economic vulnerability, it is necessary to focus on those potential partner countries with which German and European foreign trade could be developed and expanded even under the condition of increasing fragmentation.  Geoeconomic Fragmentation  The term "geo-economic fragmentation" is used to describe the politically motivated reorganization of global goods and financial flows, in which strategic, economic and political interests primarily determine the choice of countries of origin and destination for trade flows.3 In the scenario of geo-economic fragmentation, the result would be the formation of a bloc within the global community of states, which would fundamentally change the regulatory structure of global economic networking. In this case, trade and investment would probably concentrate from a previously diverse range of economic partner countries - prior to the formation of the bloc - on those countries that now - since the formation of the bloc - belong to the same bloc.  The likelihood of this scenario occurring and leading to an increased fragmentation of the global economic order has increased again in the recent past. For example, Donald Trump's second term as US president is causing increasing geopolitical uncertainty worldwide.  Statements on the concrete form of a possible demarcation of potential blocs are subject to a great deal of uncertainty. However, the division of a large part of the global economy into a "US bloc" and a "China bloc" is a conceivable scenario for which German politics and business should prepare.  Data already shows that, at a global level, foreign trade openness has decreased in the recent past. Data from the World Trade Organization (WTO) illustrates the increasing hurdles in global trade in goods. While 3.1% of global imports were still affected by tariff or non-tariff barriers to trade in 2016 - including under WTO rules - this figure rose to 11.8% in 2024 over the following years.4 This development goes hand in hand with a noticeable loss of importance and enforcement of the WTO since the 2010s, which previously played a central role as the guardian of the rules-based global economic order.  Studies by the International Monetary Fund (IMF) have already found indications of an incipient geo-economic fragmentation along potential bloc borders. It shows that trade in goods and foreign direct investment between countries that would belong to the opposing camp in the event of a bloc formation declined on average in 2022 and 2023 - in contrast to foreign trade between countries that are geopolitically close.5  In this initial phase of geo-economic fragmentation, liaison countries are beginning to establish themselves as a counterforce, holding the fragmenting global community of states together with new trade and investment routes.  Identification of liaison countries Specifically, liaison countries have the following characteristics: a pronounced openness to foreign trade in the form of a high foreign trade quota and low tariff and non-tariff trade barriers, as well as pronounced economic relations with partner countries from different geopolitical camps. The geopolitical orientation of countries can be examined using data on voting behavior within the United Nations.6 This involves analyzing whether a country can be assigned to the US or Chinese camp - or whether there is no pronounced proximity and therefore political neutrality or "non-alignment" in the sense of ideological independence. The data-based identification of connecting countries is relatively new. Empirical analyses are also limited to connecting countries in the context of US-Chinese foreign trade - specifically US imports from China. In this case, the characteristics of a connecting country can be broken down into (1) "non-alignment" - i.e. a geopolitical distance to both a Western and an Eastern bloc - as well as (2) an increase in imports and foreign investment from China and (3) a simultaneous increase in exports to the United States. In a narrower sense, this is an evasive reaction to trade restrictions, i.e. circumventing trade. If the foreign trade indicators - specifically the trade and investment data relating to the US and China - of "non-aligned" countries for the period from 2017 to 2020 show corresponding characteristic-related changes compared to previous years, these can be identified as countries connecting the US and China.  The analysis of trade data shows that the value of direct exports from China to the USA fell during Donald Trump's first term in office. At the same time, both Chinese exports to some of the "non-aligned" countries and exports from these countries to the USA have increased significantly. These countries have presumably stepped in as a link on the export route from China to the US after the previously direct trade flow was interrupted by trade barriers and had to find a new route. Companies producing in China are therefore likely to have sought new, indirect ways to maintain access to the US sales market.  A certain statistical inaccuracy in the foreign trade data makes it difficult to draw a definitive conclusion in this context. It should be noted: No single commodity can be tracked across national borders in trade data collection. Whether the additional goods imported from China actually found their way to the United States can only be assumed approximately. However, if the trade flows are aggregated, a clearer picture emerges and the circumvention trade via selected connecting countries - including Vietnam and Mexico - becomes visible.  Data on foreign direct investment rounds off the analysis.7 "Non-aligned" countries in which an increase in Chinese investment can be seen between 2016 and 2020 in addition to trade flows can be identified as connecting countries. Here, too, available data suggests that the companies concerned either exported their goods to the United States via a stopover or even outsourced parts of their production destined for the US market to connecting countries. Five connecting countries between the US and China Based on the 2017-2020 study period, various connecting countries can be empirically identified that were used to indirectly maintain access to the US market. In terms of foreign trade volume, the economically most important connecting countries include Mexico, Vietnam, Poland, Morocco and Indonesia.8 All five countries are characterized by the fact that both their exports of goods to the US and their imports of goods from China increased significantly between 2017 and 2020. In addition, greenfield investments (foreign direct investment to set up a new production facility) have risen significantly compared to the period before 2017.  However, the five countries show different priorities in their development, which differentiate them in their role as connecting countries between the USA and China. In Vietnam, exports to the USA in particular have risen sharply. China has been the most important procurement market for Vietnamese companies for years. Poland, Mexico and Indonesia are characterized as connecting countries primarily by the significant increase in imports from China. Morocco, in turn, was able to attract more Chinese foreign investment in particular. Greenfield investments have almost tripled here since 2017. However, Poland - a rather surprising candidate for the role of liaison country, as it is intuitively assigned to the US-oriented bloc - is positioned fairly centrally between the US and China according to the analysis of voting behavior within the United Nations9. In addition, Poland qualifies primarily due to the sharp rise in greenfield investments from China, primarily in the expansion of domestic battery production.10  It cannot be concluded from the previous studies on the USA and China whether German companies are also circumventing trade barriers from the USA via the countries identified. As the trade policy conflicts between the US and China differ significantly from those between the EU and China, there has been a lack of comparable empirical data to analyze connecting countries in the EU context. Opportunities and challenges As the German economy is strongly oriented towards foreign trade and is closely networked with both the USA and China, German companies play a particularly exposed role in the area of tension between the USA and China. Increased economic exchange with potential connecting countries would offer German companies an opportunity to mitigate the expected shock of a geopolitical bloc. They could at least maintain international trade to a certain extent and thus secure some of the endangered sales and procurement markets. On the other hand, there are also costs associated with expanding foreign trade relations with potential connecting countries. The greater complexity also increases the risk in the value chains. Companies that position themselves wisely within this trade-off buy themselves valuable time in the event of a shock to reorganize themselves against the backdrop of changed foreign trade conditions.  From the perspective of foreign trade policy, it is also possible to examine the extent to which stronger foreign trade cooperation with (potential) connecting countries could have advantages. The trade-off between resilience and complexity must then be assessed at a macroeconomic level, beyond individual company interests. In order to make it easier for companies to connect to potential connecting countries and to create appropriate framework conditions, German and European policy can build on existing comprehensive strategies at national and European level. Both the China Strategy11 and the National Security Strategy12 focus foreign policy on connecting countries as part of a stronger economic and political risk diversification. There is also a similar framework at European level with the EU's Strategic Compass13 . Following on from this, the German government could create targeted incentives to open up new markets in liaison countries, which would diversify critical supply chains and reduce one-sided dependencies.  At the same time, connecting countries pose a challenge. These can be used to circumvent foreign trade measures such as sanctions if flows of goods can find alternative routes via connecting countries more easily than before.  In order to realize opportunities and overcome challenges, close cooperation between science, politics and companies is required. This first requires the identification of a selection of potential connecting countries through scientifically sound analysis. This creates the basis for the subsequent steps in which European and German policymakers work closely with companies to create attractive framework conditions for trade with potential connecting countries - for example through bilateral trade agreements.  Attractive foreign trade framework conditions can create the necessary incentive to actually expand trade relations with potential connecting countries. Companies need to weigh up individual cases and make forward-looking decisions: To what extent is there a risk of a loss of production triggered by geopolitical conflicts? And how much would the complexity of the value chain increase if more potential connecting countries were included? Ultimately, the actual choice of preferred sales and procurement markets lies with the individual companies. LicenseThis work is licensed under CC BY 4.0 References1. Verbindungsländer werden im Sinne von Connectors verstanden, vgl. Gita Gopinath/Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas/Andrea F Presbitero/Petia Topalova, Changing Global Linkages: A New Cold War?, Washington, D.C.: IMF, April 2024 (IMF Working Paper) <https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/WP/Issues/2024/04/05/Changing-Global-Linkages-A-New-ColdWar-547357/>. 2. Statistisches Bundesamt (Destatis), Außenwirtschaft. 2025, <https://www.destatis.de/DE/Themen/Wirtschaft/Globalisierungsindikatoren/aussenwirtschaft.html#246 078/>.  3. Shekahar Aiyar/Franziska Ohnsorge, Geoeconomic Fragmentation and ‚Connector’ Countries, Online verfügbar unter:  <https://mpra.ub.uni-muenchen.de/121726/1/MPRA_paper_121726.pdf>.4. WTO, WTO Trade Monitoring Report, Genf, November 2024, <https://www.wto.org/english/tratop_e/tpr_e/factsheet_dec24_e.pdf/>. 5. Gita Gopinath/Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas/Andrea F Presbitero/Petia Topalova, Changing Global Linkages: A New Cold War?, Washington, D.C.: IMF, April 2024 (IMF Working Paper) <https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/WP/Issues/2024/04/05/Changing-Global-Linkages-A-New-ColdWar-547357/>.  6. Michael A. Bailey/Anton Strezhnev/Erik Voeten, »Estimating Dynamic State Preferences from United Nations Voting Data«, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 61 (2017) 2, S. 430-456, <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0022002715595700/>.7. Gita Gopinath/Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas/Andrea F Presbitero/Petia Topalova, Changing Global Linkages: A New Cold War?, Washington, D.C.: IMF, April 2024 (IMF Working Paper) <https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/WP/Issues/2024/04/05/Changing-Global-Linkages-A-New-ColdWar-547357/>. War-547357. 8. Enda Curran/Shawn Donnan/Maeva Cousin, »These Five Countries are Key Economic ‚Connectors‘ in a Fragmenting World«, in Bloomberg (online), 1.11.2023, <https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-1102/vietnam-poland-mexico-morocco-benefit-from-us-china-tensions/>.9. Michael A. Bailey/Anton Strezhnev/Erik Voeten, »Estimating Dynamic State Preferences from United Nations Voting Data«, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 61 (2017) 2, S. 430-456, <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0022002715595700/>.  10. Enda Curran/Shawn Donnan/Maeva Cousin, »These Five Countries are Key Economic ‚Connectors‘ in a Fragmenting World«, in Bloomberg (online), 1.11.2023, <https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/202311-02/vietnam-poland-mexico-morocco-benefit-from-us-china-tensions/>.11. Auswärtiges Amt, China‐Strategie der Bundesregierung, Berlin, Juli 2023, <https://www.auswaertigesamt.de/resource/blob/2608578/810fdade376b1467f20bdb697b2acd58/china-strategie-data.pdf/>.  12. Auswärtiges Amt, Integrierte Sicherheit für Deutschland: Nationale Sicherheitsstrategie, Berlin, Juni 2023, <https://www.bmvg.de/resource/blob/5636374/38287252c5442b786ac5d0036ebb237b/nationalesicherheitsstrategie-data.pdf/>.  13. Rat der Europäischen Union, Ein Strategischer Kompass für Sicherheit und Verteidigung, Brüssel, März 2022, <https://data.consilium.europa.eu/doc/document/ST-7371-2022-INIT/de/pdf/>.

Defense & Security
Demonstrators protest against the war in front of the European Parliament after a special plenary session on the Russian invasion of Ukraine  in Brussels, Belgium on March 01, 2022.

An analysis of European Diplomatic Efforts to Support Ukraine’s Territorial Integrity. Challenges and Opportunities.

by Krzysztof Sliwinski

Abstract This analysis examines European diplomatic efforts to support Ukraine’s territorial integrity amid the ongoing Russia-Ukraine war, highlighting the EU’s evolving role as a security actor. The August 18, 2025, White House summit marked a key moment, with EU leaders pledging "ironclad" security guarantees modelled after NATO’s Article 5, without formal NATO membership for Ukraine, and proposing a "reassurance force" of European troops post-ceasefire. The EU commits to unrestricted Ukrainian military capabilities, sustained economic and military aid, and intensified sanctions against Russia. While the EU aims to bolster Ukraine’s self-defence and facilitate peace talks, challenges persist, including funding, coordination with the U.S., and Russia’s rejection of guarantees involving Western troops. The EU’s approach reflects a strategic shift toward a more assertive Common Foreign and Security Policy, though institutional limitations remain. The guarantees are intertwined with Ukraine’s EU accession ambitions, carrying significant geopolitical and financial implications for the European security architecture and regional stability.Key Words: Ukrainian War, European Security, EU, U.S., Russia Introduction The ongoing war in Ukraine likely marks the end of the post-Cold War security environment in Europe and the rest of the world. The old international system, based on the benign hegemony of the United States and its dominance in international institutions, is witnessing the vanishing of the pretence of the leading role of international law and international regimes before our eyes. What is emerging brings back memories of the 19th-century Concert of Europe, where the great powers of Europe— Austria, France, Prussia (later Germany), Russia, and the United Kingdom —came together to maintain the European balance of power, political boundaries, and spheres of influence. This time around, however, there are fewer players, and the gameboard is genuinely global. The U.S., China and Russia do not leave much space for other players, at least in the global context. The EU declares itself to be a global player, matching the influence of the big three, but in all honesty, it is not treated as such by them.  This analysis looks at the latest developments regarding the ongoing war between Russia and Ukraine (a proxy war between NATO and Russia) and specifically at the role of the EU and its proposed security guarantees offered to Ukraine. The August 18 Meeting On August 18, 2025, a meeting took place at the White House. It included U.S. President Donald Trump, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and leaders from Germany, France, Italy, the UK, Finland, the European Commission, the European Council, and NATO. They talked about ways to stop Russia's invasion of Ukraine. A key topic was security guarantees for Ukraine. The EU promised strong protection for Ukraine's independence and borders. This is intended to prevent future Russian attacks, even though Ukraine is unlikely to join NATO soon. These promises build on earlier security agreements but demonstrate a more unified European effort, with the U.S. providing support but not leading with troops or NATO membership.  Ironclad Security Guarantees Equivalent to NATO's Article 5 (Collective Defence) The EU promised to give firm, long-term security promises to Ukraine, similar to NATO's Article 5. This means an attack on Ukraine would be seen as an attack on those who promised to help. However, these promises would not be part of NATO to avoid upsetting Russia or requiring all NATO members to agree. European leaders, including those from the "Coalition of the Willing," are prepared to deploy a "reassurance force" or peacekeepers to Ukraine once the fighting ceases. This force would comprise troops from different European countries, taking turns to monitor and enforce any peace agreement, with a primary focus on preventing new attacks. EU officials stated that Russia cannot halt these plans or Ukraine's future aspirations to join the EU and NATO. Trump said the U.S. will work with Europe and might provide air support, but will not send American ground troops, making Europe the "first line of defence." Meanwhile, the U.S. will support by selling weapons.[1]  No Restrictions on Ukraine's Military Capabilities   EU leaders want Ukraine's military to have no limits on size, type, or actions. This means Ukraine can make weapons at home and get more from Western countries without Russia stopping them. The aim is for Ukraine to have a strong army for many years. Europe will also increase its own military production to help. Ukraine plans to buy $90 billion in U.S. weapons, mostly paid for by Europe. This includes planes, air defence systems, and drones. A formal agreement is expected within 10 days of the meeting.[2]  Sustained Economic and Military Support, Including Sanctions The EU has pledged to continue providing Ukraine with military, financial, and humanitarian assistance until a lasting peace is achieved. They will also increase sanctions and economic actions against Russia to maintain pressure. Leaders say they will support Ukraine as long as the fighting continues, and they will not force Ukraine to give up any land. Only Ukraine can decide about its territory. Europe is prepared to undertake most of this effort and may allocate an additional €40 billion for weapons if necessary. They will work with the U.S. to get support from Trump.[3]  Facilitation of Further Talks and Peace Efforts EU leaders aim to facilitate a meeting between Trump, Zelenskyy, and Putin. They say any agreement must include Ukraine's views and protect Europe's safety. They are glad Trump is pushing for peace, but say a ceasefire is not needed for security promises. Moscow's complaints, like those about NATO forces, will not stop their plans. This shows Europe is united. Leaders like Ursula von der Leyen and António Costa have stated that there will be no official changes to borders, and they fully support Ukraine's membership in the EU.[4] There were concerns that Trump might pressure Ukraine to make concessions during his meeting with Putin on August 15, 2025, in Alaska. European leaders quickly organised a meeting at the White House to influence Trump. This was seen as a way to win him over. Russia does not want NATO or Western troops in Ukraine, seeing it as a threat. Some experts argue that there is a "security guarantee paradox": if the protection is too weak, it will not benefit Ukraine; if it is too strong, Russia may not agree to any deal.[5] EU officials are hopeful, but they face several challenges. These include securing funding (Europe will cover most costs), managing rotating forces, and ensuring the U.S. remains committed after Trump's term.[6] Recent Military and Diplomatic Developments The Russia-Ukraine war started in February 2022. In August 2025, fighting and diplomatic talks increased. Russian troops are moving forward in eastern Ukraine, especially in Donetsk, with many attacks. Ukraine is hitting Russian targets. U.S. President Donald Trump is leading peace talks after meeting Russian President Vladimir Putin in Alaska on August 15. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and European leaders are also involved. However, significant disagreements persist regarding land, security, and ceasefires. There is no quick solution yet. Russian Advances and Territorial Gains Russian forces have concentrated on Donetsk and taken more land. From July 8 to August 5, 2025, Russia gained 226 square miles, continuing its slow progress in the area.[7] By mid-August, Russia controls large parts of Donbas and continues to advance, even though Ukraine is fighting back.[8]   Source: https://www.russiamatters.org/news/russia-ukraine-war-report-card/russia-ukraine-war-report-card-aug-6-2025  On August 19, Russia launched its most significant attack of the month, using drones and missiles against Ukrainian targets, resulting in civilian casualties and infrastructure damage.[9] On August 18, there were similar long-range attacks. On August 19, Ukraine and Russia swapped the bodies of dead soldiers. Ukraine has increased attacks on Russian energy sites to cut off war funding.[10] After the Trump-Putin meeting in Alaska, Trump met with Zelenskyy and leaders from the EU and UK on August 18 to discuss peace. Trump seems to support giving some Ukrainian land, like parts of Donbas, to Russia for peace. He also suggests U.S. air support as a security promise. A U.S. envoy stated that there is progress: Putin has agreed to U.S. security guarantees for Ukraine and has relinquished some territory.[11] Plans for direct talks are being made. Putin suggested Moscow as the meeting place, but this has not been confirmed yet (as of August 20).[12] European leaders, including EU figures, seem to welcome these efforts but insist on continued sanctions against Russia and reject Budapest (Hungary) as a site due to past failed assurances.[13 ] In the meantime, Ukraine demands robust security guarantees (e.g., deterrence against future attacks) and $90 billion in aid.[14 ] Russia, however, rejects European guarantees, insists on territorial concessions, and maintains unchanged objectives. As of now, no ceasefire has been agreed upon; however, Russia claims to be open to one.[15 ] Where Does the EU Stand in General? EU leaders stress that a strong Ukraine is the best guarantee against Russia. According to the statement of 12 August, issued by the European Council and the Council of the European Union: “The European Union, in coordination with the U.S. and other like-minded partners, will continue to provide political, financial, economic, humanitarian, military and diplomatic support to Ukraine as Ukraine is exercising its inherent right of self-defence. It will also continue to uphold and impose restrictive measures against the Russian Federation. A Ukraine capable of defending itself effectively is an integral part of any future security guarantees. The European Union and its Member States are ready to further contribute to security guarantees based on their respective competences and capabilities, in line with international law, and in full respect of the security and defence policies of certain Member States, while taking into account the security and defence interests of all Member States. The European Union underlines the inherent right of Ukraine to choose its own destiny and will continue supporting Ukraine on its path towards EU membership”.[16]  According to EU top diplomat, Kaja Kallas (High Representative/Vice-President (2024-2029) responsible for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy),[17] the idea of letting Russia keep Ukrainian territories (proposal as signalled by Trump) was a "trap that Putin wants us [the EU] to walk into".[18] She stressed that Russia has offered no concessions and that credible security measures, such as bolstering Ukraine's military, are essential—though specifics on contributions remain up to individual member states. In a like-minded fashion, French President Emmanuel Macron rather hawkishly and not very diplomatically echoed this, describing Putin as a "predator, and an ogre at our [Europe] doorstep" and expressing "the greatest doubt" that he would be willing to work towards peace. In short, the foremost European leaders are still ready to challenge Russia. They enjoy peace at home while using Ukraine as a battleground. Their new ideas about Ukraine's safety and Europe's security are bold and raise concerns about possible problems. The “Devil Lies in Details” The European Union is part of the "Coalition of the Willing" due to its key members. According to Wikipedia, this group comprises 31 countries. They have promised to support Ukraine more strongly against Russia than the Ukraine Defence Contact Group. They are ready to join a peacekeeping force in Ukraine by sending troops or providing other forms of support.[19] The peacekeeping force is envisaged to be deployed only once Ukraine and Russia sign a "comprehensive ceasefire agreement" or "peace deal" to settle the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian War. The initiative, led by the United Kingdom and France, was announced by British Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer on 2 March 2025, following the 2025 London Summit on Ukraine under the motto "securing our future".[20] The EU has been developing plans for Ukraine's security in the aftermath of the war. The primary goal is to stop future Russian attacks, short of offering NATO membership to Ukraine. Recent plans include military, diplomatic, and financial help, with the EU and U.S. working together. These plans are still changing due to ongoing talks, Russian objections, and questions about their enforcement. The focus is on helping Ukraine defend itself and providing additional support, including air and sea protection. The EU wants Ukraine to be able to defend itself. This is important for any promises they make. The EU and its member states are ready to provide assistance based on their capabilities. They will follow international law and their own defence rules.[21] This includes ongoing military aid but does not specify sending troops or creating new plans. In this context, European Council President Antonio Costa has called for faster work on "NATO-like" guarantees. These could be similar to Article 5, where an attack on Ukraine would lead to talks and actions from allies.[22] NATO and European leaders are discussing a new plan similar to "Article 5." This plan would prompt allies to discuss within 24 hours in the event of an attack. They would work together on responses, such as increasing military forces and providing aid for rebuilding. This idea is similar to agreements with countries like the UK and France, which focus on building strength and recognising borders.[23] EU accession for Ukraine could trigger the bloc's mutual defence clause, offering a "strong guarantee" in principle, although its practical enforcement is debated.[24] Air and sea security are important. A "sky shield" is planned to protect the air over western and central Ukraine, including Kyiv. European fighter jets, with possible U.S. support, will enforce this. The jets might be stationed in Poland or Romania. There will be rules for dealing with Russian actions, like missile attacks. In the Black Sea, measures will prevent Russian naval threats and keep shipping safe from ports like Odesa using intelligence and patrols.[25] Some countries, such as France and the UK, may deploy a small number of troops. These troops could help with training in cities like Kyiv or Lviv, or they might help secure ports and airbases.[26] Sending large numbers of troops is not feasible due to Ukraine's vast size and Russia's demands. Instead, the focus is on training, sharing information, managing supplies, and equipping Ukraine's military with weapons. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy said that guarantees might be ready by August 29, 2025. These include U.S. assistance, valued at $90 billion, which includes weapons such as planes and air defences. Europeans will be the "first line of defence," with the U.S. helping in other ways. However, there are concerns: Russia wants to be part of the talks and does not want foreign troops. Some reports also question the coalition's strength and clarity, particularly in the absence of firm U.S. promises. Possible Broader Geopolitical Ramifications First, supporting Ukraine’s borders could strengthen the EU’s role in European security. This would indicate a shift towards a stronger EU foreign and security policy, as well as a more unified European defence system. However, the EU’s current tools, such as Article 42(7) TEU and PESCO, are not particularly robust. They have limitations in how they operate and face financial and organisational problems. This makes it challenging for the EU to establish itself as a strong security force without assistance from NATO and the U.S.[27] Second, the EU’s security guarantee to Ukraine is likely to intersect closely with NATO’s role, as the EU’s defence efforts currently complement but do not replace NATO’s collective defence framework. The EU remains dependent on NATO (especially the U.S.) for significant military capabilities, and the guarantee could deepen cooperation but also create institutional competition or overlap. The transatlantic alliance’s unity and the U.S. continued engagement are critical factors in the guarantee’s effectiveness.[28] Third, an EU guarantee of Ukraine’s security could also send a strong geopolitical signal to Russia, potentially deterring further aggression and affirming the EU’s commitment to the European security order. However, it may also escalate tensions with Russia, which views such guarantees as a threat to its sphere of influence.[29] This dynamic affects not only Ukraine but also other countries in the EU’s neighbourhood, such as Georgia, which is vulnerable to Russian pressure and exclusion from security arrangements.[30] Fourth, guaranteeing Ukraine’s security is linked to its EU accession ambitions. While Ukrainians see EU membership as essential recognition of their sovereignty and security, many Europeans view it as a component of a future negotiated settlement with Russia. The EU’s guarantee thus has implications for the pace and nature of enlargement, potentially affecting the EU’s cohesion and its relations with neighbouring countries.[31] Fifth, the EU’s security guarantees would likely entail substantial financial commitments, including military aid, reconstruction support financed through mechanisms such as the European Peace Facility (EPF), and the utilisation of frozen Russian assets. These financial undertakings have implications for EU budgetary policies, fiscal solidarity, and the development of a European defence industrial base, which is currently fragmented and underfunded. Conclusion The EU declares itself to be a global player and consequently engages as a broker in preparing peace talks with Russia. Moreover, it envisions itself as a guarantor of peace on the European continent and Ukrainian security, as well as its territorial integrity.  Two important questions, however, remained unanswered.  First, given the EU's engagement against Russia alongside Ukraine, as well as its most prominent member states' support for the Ukrainian war effort, one would be correct to question the intentions of at least some European political leaders. On one hand, the openly adversarial stance against Russia may produce some deterrence-like effects (although, in all honesty, it is difficult to prove). On the other hand, it definitely does prolong the conflict at the expense of Ukraine and its people.  Second, the following analysis will examine the extent to which the EU's guarantees for Ukraine are in reality. Political declarations and paper documents can convey a wide range of statements, including the most hawkish and resolute. The real test, however, always involves actual acting in the face of challenges and dangers. Will Europeans actually be ready to back their words with actions? Will they be able to perform at the required level militarily and economically? The 20th-century experience would suggest otherwise. References1  Roth, A., & Sauer, P. (2025, August 19). Trump rules out sending US troops to Ukraine as part of security guarantees. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/aug/19/european-leaders-ukraine-russia-trump 2  Magramo, K., Kent, L., Lister, T., Edwards, C., Chowdhury, M., Sangal, A., Hammond, E., & Liptak, K. (2025, August 18). Trump meets Zelensky and European leaders at White House. CNN. https://edition.cnn.com/politics/live-news/trump-ukraine-zelensky-russia-putin-08-18-25 3  Europe must shoulder ‘lion’s share’ of Ukraine’s security, Vance says. (2025, August 21). 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