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Defense & Security
Black Sea region detailed editable map with regions cities and towns, roads and railways, geographic sites

NATO in the Black Sea Region

by Beqa Bochorishvili

In the given article, the focus will be on the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) as a defining organization of collective security policy, representing the Western Hemisphere in the Black Sea region. The article will discuss the objectives and strategies of the organization, taking into account the role of Russia as one of the most significant actors in the region.  After the Cold War and the dissolution of the USSR, NATO began expanding eastward. Countries such as Czechia, Hungary, Poland, Bulgaria, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania became members of the organization. During the time of the Cold War and the conflict with the USSR, some new members joined the NATO alliance, such as the Warsaw Pact countries (Czechia, Hungary, Poland) and other post-Soviet states, including the Baltic region (Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania). These actions irritated Russia, especially when the NATO enlargement process continued in the Baltic region. Accordingly, to these events, excitement has followed the representatives of Russia’s Duma. The officials demanded the deployment of troops to ensure security and to enforce the idea of adding additional forces to the region in line with established parameters. However, one important detail is that despite the deployment of troops, several aerial and special operations were carried out in the region of the Baltic Sea, which included disrupting the line of command in the region and affecting the established procedures. An interesting thing that happened in 2009, during NATO expansion in 2009, the Kremlin did not go against the accession of Albania and Croatia, there were indirect statements from officials that the enlargement of NATO on the European continent is disturbing and undermines the security of the continent.  Accordingly, taking into account that each stage of NATO's expansion was exciting for Russia, and this stemmed from the fact that the very idea of this expansion was the formation of a united and strong Europe, which was also a prerequisite for the elimination of Russian influences, official Russia did not take pro-aggressive steps to exclude its proximity to the organization.  Despite Russia's warning that NATO should not expand to the East, this process continued. In 2008, NATO announced (at the Bucharest summit) that Ukraine and Georgia would become members, which Russia saw as a strategic threat, especially when Gorbachev, the leader of the Soviet Republic, was promised that NATO would not go East. The main reason why Russia reacted so strongly to the expansion was due to the geopolitical aspirations of Ukraine and Georgia, which it believed would affect the country's security and strategic interests.  The Black Sea region has always been of great interest to NATO, this basin is a connecting link between the Caspian, Mediterranean, and Aegean seas, it is at the same time a very strategic corridor to connect with the Middle East, which doubled the interests of the great powers in the region, among them NATO. After the end of the Cold War, the Black Sea region is in the interest of the USA and there were 3 specific reasons for this; The spread of democracy, cooperation in the field of security, and third and most important for the US, the diversification of energy resources. On the other hand, the democratic development of the independent states represented in this region and the convergence with the standards of the West and NATO turned out to be critically incompatible with the interests of Russia. It was also unacceptable for Moscow to develop energy projects on the European continent using the Black Sea region without him. Therefore, Russia, in order to prevent the countries of the region from achieving their goals and hindering their Euro-Atlantic integration, created and/or maintained control over the conflict centers in the region, which it then used for manipulation and coercion. In short, regardless of the variety of conflicts in the Black Sea region, each of them was and is being managed under Russian interests, be it the conflicts of Karabakh, Abkhazia-Tskhinvali, or Crimea and Eastern Ukraine.  There are several reasons for the tension between Russia and NATO in the Black Sea region, the first of which is the concentration of a large number of Russian military forces in the region and the resulting conflicts. Second, the region is a kind of springboard where Russian and NATO military forces have to interact closely, which is also a source of constant tension.  On the other hand, It is rather interesting that despite the fact that in many cases NATO member states are driven by common interests, it happens that they have formed different visions for developing tactics to deal with existing challenges. One of the reasons why NATO is not properly represented in the Black Sea is Turkey and its recent policy. For example, in 2001, a multinational military-naval organization named "Blackseafor" was created on the initiative of Turkey. (BlackSeafor(2001). The member states of the organization were; Georgia, Russia, Ukraine, Bulgaria, Romania, and Turkey. By creating this model, Turkey tried to increase its role by weakening NATO's representation in the Black Sea region, it even worked at some level, and one of the reasons why NATO's flank is currently the weakest in the Seven Sea region is the above-mentioned event. However, Turkey has a tense situation with Syria and it needs NATO defense systems, so it has to find a balance in the direction of cooperation between Russia and NATO in order to ensure the security of the region.  However, it should be noted that after joining NATO, Romania becomes an important springboard for the organization. At the Warsaw summit, it was Romania that came up with the initiative to create the NATO Black Sea Fleet, which received positive evaluations both in Berlin and in the NATO headquarters and Washington. Bulgaria used to be more restrained in the Black Sea, thus avoiding provoking Russia too much. But after the war between Ukraine and Russia, the policy has changed, since 2021, Bulgaria has been the head of the NATO naval training operations in the Black Sea, the name of the operation is "Breeze" and it was last held in July 2022, where 24 combat and support boats, 5 military aircraft, 4 helicopters, and up to 1400 soldiers participated. There were several goals and reasons for conducting these exercises, one of which was stated above to increase the alliance's interests in the Black Sea region, and the other was to at least weaken Russia's dominance and maritime monopoly.  The conflict in Ukraine has shown that the events taking place in the Black Sea are directly connected and affect the European security system. It should be noted that before the Warsaw Summit, NATO did not have a proactive plan regarding its role in the Black Sea region (2016). An agreement was reached at the Warsaw Summit, thus highlighting that improving the defense capabilities of partner countries is in direct interest with NATO's interests, which will ultimately strengthen European security. That is why the strengthening of Ukraine's military potential is considered to strengthen the eastern flank of the organization. But until the war is raging and the future/outcome of this conflict is still uncertain, it is rather impossible to speak clearly about the very future of the organization.

Defense & Security
Military of Russian-state funded private military company, Wagner Group

Wagner Group: what it would mean for the UK to designate Putin’s private army a ‘terrorist organisation’

by Brian J. Phillips

The UK is reportedly planning to officially designate the Russian mercenary firm Wagner Group as a terrorist organisation. This would put Wagner on a list with 78 other groups, including ISIS, al Qaeda and newer white supremacist organisations. The UK has had lists of “proscribed organisations” for decades, previously including groups in the Northern Ireland conflict, and then creating a more global list in the early 2000s. Once an organisation is listed, it becomes a criminal offence to belong to the group or support the group – with a punishment of up to 14 years in prison. Dozens of other countries have similar lists. The UK’s proscription of Wagner could be an important global signal – the UK would be among the first to label Wagner a terrorist group. This could encourage other countries to do the same, and possibly discourage countries from working with Wagner in the future. The home secretary has the discretion to proscribe a group if it is involved in terrorism, defined generally as violence to influence the government or intimidate the public for some political or social goal. The minister takes into consideration both the nature of the organisation, and “the need to support other members of the international community in the global fight against terrorism”. Wagner appears to have used terrorism in Ukraine and beyond. For example, two men who reportedly worked for Wagner admitted to killing hundreds of civilians, including dozens of children. The group is also implicated in massacres of hundreds of civilians in Mali, according to Human Rights Watch and other non-governmental organisations. The UK and its allies are supporting Ukraine in its defence against the Russian invasion. As a result, the UK government is within its rights to proscribe the group. But should it? There are some reasons to question whether proscription is the best course of action. It would be somewhat unusual to include Wagner – a company, a for-profit enterprise – with groups like al Qaeda or Boko Haram, which are motivated by radical ideologies more than profits. For this reason, it seems, the US has labelled Wagner as a transnational criminal organisation, and imposed sanctions usually used on organised crime. Wagner also stands out because it works for the Russian state, so it is less of a “non-state actor” (and arguably not one at all) than traditional terrorist groups. However, the UK already proscribes a variety of groups that receive state support, such as Hezbollah. Including state actors alongside non-state actors on a terrorist list can blur the distinction of what is a “terrorist”, and open such lists up to endless expansion, but it has been done before.A symbolic designation It’s questionable how much of an effect UK proscription would have on a group operating thousands of kilometres away. However, the government has expressed suspicion about Wagner transferring money from the UK after financial sanctions were placed on Russian oligarchs. Such actions would become illegal with proscription. Any support for the group, by any person or institution in the UK, would be criminalised. Additionally, my own research suggests that proscription can reduce terrorism when the group operates in a country (like Ukraine) aligned with the proscribing state. International cooperation on counterterrorism is essential. Another study I worked on with Hyeran Jo and Joshua Alley shows that proscription is more likely to be effective when used on groups that depend on funding from private donations, for example from a diaspora community. Making it illegal to associate with or fund a group means their support is quickly eroded, as are their capabilities to carry out attacks. This raises questions about how much proscription would hurt Wagner, which is mostly funded by the Russian state. Proscription might be a helpful addition to the economic sanctions already placed on Russia. But we shouldn’t expect it to have major financial effects on its own on the group’s activities, since Wagner gets most of its resources from Russia. More than direct material consequences, proscription could be important for symbolism. Declaring Wagner a terrorist organisation would further signal international disapproval of the Russian invasion, and it would be a mark of shame for Wagner, which is trying to expand its global footprint. Countries like Mali that hire Wagner might look for alternatives if the group is widely recognised as a terrorist organisation. Negative consequences It is important to note that there can be negative consequences of terrorist proscription. Scholars have shown that it can make it more difficult to end wars. Governments become more hesitant to make a deal with a legally-designated “terrorist”, and third parties are slow to facilitate negotiations for the same reason. However, this might not directly matter for the Wagner case, since Ukraine would negotiate with Russia, not Wagner. There are also reasons to believe that proscription can have negative economic effects. Humanitarian organisations have warned that proscription can create a “chilling effect” on charity donors, non-governmental organisations and other important actors who may want to support civilians affected by these situations, because of concern about inadvertently funding a terrorist organisation, or being accused of doing so. The UK government should keep these concerns in mind and try to mitigate negative unintended effects of proscription. Overall, terrorist proscription might not be the ideal policy tool for Wagner, since the group is a business and not a traditional ideological group. And it’s not clear proscription would affect the group much in the short term, since most of its money comes from the Russian state. However, proscription could be an important global signal, and it could deter potential support for an entity that has clearly used terrorism.

Defense & Security
Radiation sign over Ukrainian map, Nuclear powers station in Ukraine

Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant: The Looming Specter of Europe’s Most Serious Risk

by Najmedin Meshkati , Zhamilya Mussaibekova

Located in southeastern Ukraine, Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Station (ZNPP) is Europe’s largest power plant that produced 23% of all Ukrainian electricity before Russia's invasion.  This critical energy source is amidst the chaos and destruction of the ongoing Russia-Ukraine conflict, a harrowing struggle that has wrought immeasurable suffering and upheaval upon the region. Following its capture by the Russian forces on March 4th 2022, there have been drastic disruptions to safe energy production and a heightened global concern for nuclear safety in the region. Introduction and backgroundZaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant (ZNPP), located in the Ukrainian city of Enerhodar, was built by Soviet design in the 1980s, with its last reactor being connected to the grid in 1995.  Amongst the ten largest nuclear facilities in the world, the Zaporizhzhia power plant consists of six water-cooling and water-moderating pressurized reactors. A global nuclear scare started on February 24, 2022, when Ukraine informed the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) that “unidentified armed forces” have taken control of all facilities of Chornobyl Nuclear Power Plant located in the Exclusion zone. The IAEA appealed for maximum restraint to avoid any action that may put the country’s nuclear facilities at risk and stressed the IAEA’s 2009 General Conference decision that “any armed attack on and threat against nuclear facilities devoted to peaceful purposes constitutes a violation of the principles of the United Nations Charter, international law and the Statute of the Agency”. Later that week, on March 2nd, Russia stated that its military forces have taken control of the territory around Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhya Nuclear Power Plant. The next day, a large number of Russian tanks and infantry broke through the block-post into the town of Enerhodar, just a few kilometers from the ZNPP. Director General Grossi, appealed for “an immediate halt to the use of force at Enerhodar and called on the military forces operating there to refrain from violence near the nuclear power plant.” By March 4th, Ukraine informed the IAEA that the ZNPP had been shelled overnight, and a fire broke out on site. Although no essential equipment was affected, the first military action      resulted in the activation of the IAEA’s Incident and Emergency Centre in full response. At the end of the day, Ukraine announced that Russian forces had taken control of the ZNPP, but the power plant continued to be operated by its regular staff.  At the time, out of the plant’s six reactor units, two had undergone controlled shut down, two were being held in low power mode, one was shut down for maintenance and one was operating at 60 percent power. ZNPP’s dire situation since March 4, 2022Before the conflict, the ZNPP had access to the grid through four high-voltage power lines, but they have now all fallen victim to the fighting. The back-up power lines connecting the ZNPP to a nearby thermal power station are also down. The plant had also previously temporarily lost direct access to the electricity grid but could then still receive power through available back-up lines, or from one of its reactors that was still operating at the time. The Russian conquest was soon followed by disruptions in the electricity supply to the nuclear power plant, one of the seven indispensable pillars of nuclear safety. Less than two weeks after Russian forces seized the plant, Zaporizhzhia lost one of its three power lines. Since then, mainly as a result of shelling or other military action nearby, the nuclear plant has suffered numerous power cuts, mainly as a result of shelling. Although it has emergency diesel generators that are available to provide backup power, a secure off-site power supply from the grid is integral to ensuring nuclear safety.  Thus, following its first complete external power outage in August, Director General Rafael Mariano Grossi set off from the Agency’s headquarters on an IAEA Support and Assistance Mission to Zaporizhzhia (ISAMZ) to undertake vital safeguards activities at the plant.  That October, Zaporizhzhia lost its last remaining external power source due to renewed shelling, and had to rely on diesel generators again to cool the reactor and support other nuclear safety and security functions. In the next week, Zaporizhzhia lost all external power two more times, receiving electricity from a backup system for the third time in a span of ten days. Similar incidents unfolded in November as well, as the IAEA Director General continued to urge for the critical need to demilitarize the zone.  Based on historical data and industry experience, the nuclear industry aims for an average unplanned outage rate of less than 0.1 per reactor per year which statistically would mean less than one unplanned outage every 10 years. Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant experienced six in the past year alone. Cold shutdown of the ZNPP reactors doesn’t remove the risk – Spent fuel pools need constant coolingThe fission reaction that generates heat in a nuclear power plant is produced by positioning a number of uranium fuel rods in close proximity. Shutting down a nuclear reactor involves inserting control rods between the fuel rods to stop the fission reaction.The reactor is then in cooldown mode as the temperature decreases. According to the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission, once the temperature is below 200 degrees Fahrenheit (93 Celsius) and the reactor coolant system is at atmospheric pressure, the reactor is in cold shutdown. When the reactor is operating, it requires cooling to absorb the heat and keep the fuel rods from melting together, which would set off a catastrophic chain reaction. When a reactor is in cold shutdown, it no longer needs the same level of circulation. It was announced on September 11, 2022 by Energoatom, operator of the ZNPP that it was shutting down the last operating reactor of the plant’s six reactors, reactor No. 6. The operators have put the reactor in cold shutdown and this shutdown has mitigated a risk. Spent fuel pools also need constant circulation of water to keep them cool. And they need cooling for several years before being put in dry casks. One of the problems in the 2011 Fukushima disaster in Japan was the emergency generators, which replaced lost off-site power, got inundated with water and failed. In situations like that you get “station blackout” – and that is one of the worst things that could happen. It means no electricity to run the cooling system. In that circumstance, the spent fuel overheats and its zirconium cladding can cause hydrogen bubbles. If you can’t vent these bubbles they will explode, spreading radiation. If there is a loss of outside power, operators will have to rely on emergency generators. But emergency generators are huge machines – finicky, unreliable gas guzzlers. And you still need cooling waters for the generators themselves. The biggest worry is that Ukraine suffers from a sustained power grid failure. The likelihood of this increases during a conflict, because pylons may come down under shelling or gas power plants might get damaged and cease to operate.  According to one of the IAEA’s latest updates (#154, April 21, 2023):  “As a result of the warmer weather, the operator has started to put reactor Unit 6 in cold shutdown which is expected to be reached by the weekend, leaving only Unit 5 in hot shutdown to produce hot water and steam for the site. The two reactors were in hot shutdown during the winter to provide steam and heating to the ZNPP as well as heating to the nearby city of Enerhodar, where many plant personnel live.” The cooling pumps for the spent fuel pools need much less electricity than the cooling pumps on the reactor’s primary and secondary loops, and the spent fuel cooling system could tolerate a brief electricity outage. Now, at least if the plant loses offsite power, the operators won’t have to worry about cooling an operating reactor with cranky diesel generators. However, the plant still needs a reliable source of electricity to cool the six huge spent fuel pools that are inside the containment structures and to remove residual heat from the shutdown reactors. The serious risk of military actions for spent fuel storage racksOne more important factor is that the spent fuel storage racks in the spent fuel pools at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant were compacted to increase capacity, according to a 2017 Ukrainian government report to the IAEA. The greater number and more compacted the stored spent fuel rods, the more heat they generate and so more power is needed to cool them. There is also a dry spent fuel storage facility at the plant. Dry spent fuel storage involves packing spent fuel rods into massive cylinders, or casks, which require no water or other coolants. The casks are designed to keep the fuel rods contained for at least 50 years. However, the casks are not under the containment structures at the plant, and, though they were designed to withstand being crashed into by an airliner, it’s not clear whether artillery shelling and aerial bombardment, particularly repeated attacks, could crack open the casks and release radiation into the grounds of the plant. The closest analogy to this scenario could be a terrorist attack that, according to a seminal study by the National Research Council, could breach a dry cask and potentially result in the release of radioactive material from the spent fuel. This could happen through the dispersion of fuel particles or fragments or the dispersion of radioactive aerosols.  This would be similar to the detonation of a “dirty bomb,” which, depending on wind direction and dispersion radius, could result in radioactive contamination. This in turn could cause serious problems for access to and work in the plant. According to the IAEA’s latest update at the time of writing this analysis (#155, April 28, 2023): “IAEA experts present at Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhya Nuclear Power Plant (ZNPP) were again forced to shelter this week after missile attack warnings, with the sound of continued shelling in the distance as military activity continues in the region. In addition, one landmine exploded near the site, Director General Rafael Mariano Grossi said today…The increased military presence and activity in the region again underlines the importance and urgency of agreeing on the protection of the plant, Director General Grossi added.”What is going on and what can be doneWe need to begin to realize and emphasize that the need for compromise extends beyond Russia alone. There has been a certain reticence around the acknowledgement that Ukraine, despite being the “aggrieved” country, must also be willing to make concessions.  To designate Russia as the sole provoker of hostilities at the Zaporizhzhia plant is an objective falsity. It would be illogical for Russia to shell the plant once it has already seized control, unless there were provocations from the Ukrainian side. Interestingly, in spite of countless calls to pacify the region from Ukrainian and international diplomatic leaders, The Times of London on April 7, 2023 published a report detailing a failed Ukrainian attack on the Russian-controlled Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant (ZNPP) that took place in October 2022. Ukrainian special forces launched an attack on the ZNPP, deploying US-provided HIMARS rockets at the site — an attempt that ultimately failed because of a stronger Russian counteroffensive. Any sort of projectiles nearing the site of a nuclear power plant is an inherently hazardous and potentially catastrophic assault, regardless of the origin of the launch.   Given the high stakes involved and the potential for irreparable harm, it is imperative for even Ukrainian forces to exercise restraint and refrain from any military action that could escalate the conflict, including airstrikes on Zaporizhzhia, even if it is under Russian control. Taking into account the tumultuous events that have transpired at Zaporizhzhia this past year, for the sake of preventing a global nuclear disaster, it is pertinent to prioritize nuclear safety. Counterintuitive as it may seem, it may be more prudent for Ukraine to strategically withdraw from the ZNPP site and attempt to repatriate it later in the war, when more comprehensive diplomatic negotiations can happen and Russia potentially depletes its resources.  War, in our opinion, is the worst enemy of nuclear safety. This is an unprecedented and volatile situation. Only through active, pragmatic engineering and nuclear diplomacy can an amenable and lasting solution to this vexing problem be found. In the foreword of President John F. Kennedy’s book, Profiles of Courage, his brother, Robert Kennedy said, President Kennedy was fond of quoting Dante that “the hottest places in Hell are reserved for those who, in a time of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality” (December 18, 1963).  The potential catastrophic consequences of the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant conflict demand action and a willingness to take a stance.  For Ukraine, taking a stance can mean stepping back and protecting the world from a nuclear calamity. The failure to do so risks being condemned to the “hottest places in Hell,” not in a figurative sense, but in a literal one. As the memory of the Chornobyl Disaster of 1986 still lingers, the potential danger posed by Zaporizhzhia's six reactors far surpasses that of the single reactor that caused the Chornobyl disaster. In the unfortunate event of an explosion, the repercussions would be hexfold that of Chernobyl's catastrophic aftermath, marking a somber moment in the history of nuclear power. Despite the uncertainty surrounding the outcome of the  Russia-Ukraine conflict, the end of this protracted war is imminent. Even if we are facing problems that, as Robert Kennedy put it, people “fifty, even ten years ago, would not have dreamed would have to be faced,” it is of utmost importance to prioritize humanity above political objectives.  Following Dr. Henry Kissinger’s advice, Ukraine may like to exercise diplomacy, which “is the art of restraining power”, rather than brute force to repatriate its own Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant, considering the high risks associated with military action on site. Ukrainians should not shame their military officers if they retreat from Zaporizhzhia, but rather, commend them for their strategic investment into the future prosperity of their country, their continent and possibly, their planet. A true measure of a hero lies not in their victories, but in their willingness to fight for what is right, even in the face of overwhelming odds. Right now, possibly accepting status quo at Zaporizhzhia is, at least in our opinion, what is the most right, but most certainly what is imperative. With Russia’s adamant military politics, Ukraine would be bravely resisting aggression on behalf of the world, on behalf of a future.  We realize that the IAEA has called on Russia and Ukraine to set up a “safety and security protection zone” around the plant. However, the IAEA is a science and engineering inspectorate and technical assistance agency. Negotiating and establishing a protection zone at a nuclear power plant in a war zone is entirely unprecedented and totally different from all past IAEA efforts. Establishing a protection zone requires negotiations and approvals at the highest political and military levels in Kyiv and Moscow.  It could be accomplished through backchannel, Track II-type diplomacy, specifically nuclear safety-focused engineering diplomacy. In the meantime, the IAEA needs strong support from the United Nations Security Council in the form of a resolution, mandate or the creation of a special commission. Admittedly, this is only a stopgap measure. In parallel with the International Atomic Energy Agency’s effort under the leadership of its Director, General Rafael Mariano Grossi, we believe that the U.N. Security Council should immediately empower a special commission to mediate between the warring parties. It could be modeled after the United Nations Monitoring, Verification and Inspection Commission in 2000, and appoint a prominent, senior international statesman as its head. We believe the person should be of the caliber and in the mold of the legendary former director general of the International Atomic Energy Agency, Dr. Hans Blix of Sweden. Blix led the agency at the time of the Chernobyl accident in 1986 and commands respect in today’s Russia and Ukraine. The great Prussian military theorist Carl Philipp Gottfried von Clausewitz once said: “War is a mere continuation of policy by other means.”  These words still resonate today, reminding us that the quest for peace is not just about putting an end to violence, but about forging a path towards progress and prosperity. It is incumbent upon us to recognize that bringing an end to this conflict is not merely a cessation of violence, but a catalyst for the advancement of policy. As we strive towards resolving conflicts and achieving a lasting peace, it is our duty to recognize that this effort is not merely a tactical move, but a transformative one. By embracing a policy-driven approach, we can internalize the true nature of conflict, and use it as a means to move forward and effect real change. So let us be bold, but at the same time be pragmatic, and let us remember the words of Clausewitz as we work towards a brighter future for all. Let us see war not as an end in itself, but as a means to an end – a means to build a world where conflict is a thing of the past, and policy is the key to progress. President John F. Kennedy’s bold vision for political courage and making compromises in his aforementioned book, Profiles of Courage, also beautifully applies to this very context of Ukraine preserving its principles of sovereignty and territorial integrity while tactfully compromising with Russia over safeguarding Zaporizhzhia: “We shall need compromises in the days ahead, to be sure. But these will be, or should be, compromises of issues, not of principles. We can compromise our political positions, but not ourselves. We can resolve the clash of interests without conceding our ideas... Compromise does not mean cowardice. Indeed it is frequently the compromisers and conciliators who are faced with the severest tests of political courage as they oppose the extremist views of their constituents.”

Defense & Security
President Vladimir Putin with his military personnel

Armies and Autocrats: Why Putin’s Military Failed

by Zoltan Barany

AbstractThis essay analyzes the failure of Vladimir Putin’s military in Ukraine in terms of five key factors. The first of these is Putin’s monopolization of control over the armed forces, which has driven critical voices and honest debates out of military and defense matters. Second is the failure of reform: Efforts to overhaul the bloated, ill-equipped post-Soviet military have not produced a twenty-first century fighting force that can match the world’s best armies or counter their capabilities. Third, Russia’s military has been unable to attract talented young people. Fourth, Russia’s mammoth defense industry produces too few weapons, and those it does turn out cannot match sophisticated Western arms. Finally, the operations in Georgia, Crimea, and Syria were conducted against feeble adversaries and said zero about how Russian forces would perform in a conventional land war against a resolute, well-armed enemy. In short, the Russian military is a reflection of the state that created it: Autocratic, security-obsessed, and teeming with hypercentralized decisionmaking, dysfunctional relations between civilian and military authorities, inefficiency, corruption, and brutality. Before and even shortly after Russian president Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine on 24 February 2022, most experts predicted that Russia’s military would make short work of its southwestern neighbor’s defenders. The conventional wisdom held that while Russia’s forces had fallen on hard times after the Cold War, Putin’s more than two decades of rule had transformed them into an effective military machine. In early 2014, Russian troops in unmarked green-camouflage uniforms had taken Crimea from Ukraine with little bloodshed or even exertion. Two years later, one analyst called the intervention of the Russian Air Force on the side of the Bashar al-Assad regime in Syria “the most spectacular military-political event of our time.” In 2021, another commentator pointed to successful campaigns not only in Ukraine and Syria but also in Georgia (2008) while crediting Putin with having “overseen a thorough transformation of the Russian Armed Forces.” Flawed appraisals such as these are based on a misunderstanding of Russia’s military landscape. The Russian military is a quintessential reflection of the state that created it: Autocratic, security-obsessed, and teeming with hypercentralized decisionmaking, dysfunctional relations between civilian and military authorities, inefficiency, corruption, and brutality. We should note five key points. The first is that Putin’s monopolization of control over the armed forces and refusal to allow an independent legislature have driven critical voices and searching, honest debates out of military and defense matters. Second is the failure of reform—as the world can now see, efforts to overhaul the bloated, ill-equipped post-Soviet military have not produced a twenty-first–century fighting force that can match the world’s best armies or counter their capabilities. Third, Russia’s military has been unable to attract talented young people. Senior officers stubbornly refuse to delegate authority, robbing juniors of chances to develop initiative and leadership qualities, while most noncommissioned officers (NCOs) and their troops are poorly prepared. Fourth, Russia’s mammoth defense industry—largely owned and run by the state—produces too few weapons, and those it does turn out cannot match sophisticated Western arms. Finally, the operations in Georgia, Crimea, and Syria proved nothing: They were conducted against feeble adversaries and said zero about how Russian forces would perform in a conventional land war against a resolute, well-armed enemy. In a constitutional democracy, the legislature and the executive are both involved in controlling the armed forces. The chain of command is codified, as are respective institutional responsibilities vis-`a-vis the military. Laws likewise prescribe the potential uses of the military in various domestic and external scenarios. The national legislature passes the defense budget and supervises its disbursement, the chief executive acts as commander-in-chief, the defense minister is not a serving officer, and civilians—including those in the media and defense-focused NGOs—offer advice and scrutiny. In authoritarian states, the executive directly controls the military while the national legislature (if one exists) and regional authorities have no say. There is no safe place for independent security-policy experts, scholars, or journalists to function. The Kremlin runs the Russian armed forces, and today the Kremlin means Putin. He has few confidants. Since 2012, his principal advisors in the security realm have been Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu (who has no military background) and General Valery Gerasimov, the armed forces chief of staff. They serve entirely at the pleasure of the president—who summarily dismissed each man’s predecessor. Putin’s frustration with the Defense Ministry’s handling of the “special military operation” in Ukraine (to say “war” or “invasion” can bring a Russian citizen years in jail) has led to the marginalization of Shoigu, who nonetheless has kept his job despite strident criticism from prominent Russian nationalists. When Putin came to power in 2000, the military and its top brass held considerable sway over foreign and defense policy, military reform included. Since then, Putin has wrestled control of all military and security forces into his own hands. During Defense Minister Anatoly Serdyukov’s tenure (2007–12), bloodless purges removed from the general staff officers who disagreed with the Kremlin’s ideas about military reform, who were thought too independent-minded and unwilling to give Putin constant support. Serdyukov cut the Central Military Administration staff by more than 30 percent, mostly getting rid of generals and colonels. For the last dozen years, Russian generals have been Putin’s servants. Their careers depend not merely on their professional competence but on their personal loyalty to him. On paper the Defense Ministry answers to parliament and its committees on defense and security, but in practice the ministry answers to the Presidential Administration alone. The president decides whether, when, where, and how to deploy the military, at home or abroad. Putin is a centralizer; while Russia remains nominally federal, local councils have lost capacity to perform even traditional tasks such as calling up reservists, as recent events have shown. Journalists who have dared to write objectively on defense issues have been hit with heavy jail time even for open-source reporting. Membership in NATO—a defensive alliance espousing liberal-democratic principles—may constrain an authoritarian such as Hungary’s Prime Minister Viktor Orbán from seeking to “adjust” his country’s borders, but Putin faces no such obstacle. He dominates the Collective Security Treaty Organization (comprising ex-Soviet republics), while the “dictators’ club” that is the Shanghai Cooperation Organization in no way constrains his grip on the Russian military. For more than a decade, Russia’s army has been indisputably Putin’s army; no trace of institutionally balanced civilian authority, transparency, or accountability impedes his control over it.Reform InterruptusAt the Cold War’s end, Russian political and military leaders were aware of their forces’ shortcomings. For most of the 1990s, however, little happened beyond a reduction in force size. Generals opposed structural changes, political elites lacked the will to push back, and resources were scarce. The Russian army won the First and Second Chechen Wars (1994–96; 1999–2009) against a tiny breakaway region, but with an operational performance that was embarrassing. The August 2008 defeat of Georgia, another small and underfunded neighbor, also underlined Russia’s military deficiencies. Systems for command, control, communications, and intelligence performed so poorly that at times officers had to borrow war correspondents’ cellphones to reach troops. The air force admitted that it had four aircraft downed during the twelve-day conflict (the Georgians claimed to have shot down 21), losses that would have easily been avoided had unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs or drones) been on hand to fly reconnaissance. Russian sources acknowledged that tanks and warplanes had seen no overhaul since the Afghan War (1979–89), “smart” weapons and modern communications systems had been unavailable, and the Defense Ministry had relied on “favorite suppliers” known for making obsolete armaments. In response to such weaknesses, the reform program begun in 2008 sought to turn a Soviet-legacy military still based on mass mobilization into a leaner, more professional force ready for combat. Even if Ukraine has laid bare their limits, the changes made since 2008 have been considerable. With carte blanche from Putin, Defense Minister Serdyukov pensioned off or cashiered enough stubborn senior officers to break institutional resistance. The military’s structure was rationalized and streamlined. The number of large units shrank from 1,890 to 172, while 65 military colleges became ten and sixteen Soviet-era military districts became four. A main purpose of the defense reforms was to bridge the deep qualitative gap between Russian and NATO military personnel that the brief Russo-Georgian War had highlighted, or at least to improve the training and combat readiness of the nonelite troops who have always filled most Russian units. Modernizers also wanted to stabilize the army’s troop strength at a million. Russian official data are best treated with skepticism, but it appears that the total personnel strength of the Russian armed forces (land, naval, and air) has been between 700,000 and 900,000 over the past decade. Serdyukov reduced the size of the officer corps, phased out praporshchiki (roughly equivalent to warrant officers), and drastically increased the number of “contract” (professional) soldiers. In a bid to make professional soldiering more attractive, money went to improve the working conditions, housing, welfare, and pensions of servicemen and their families. Shoigu carried on the reform process, raising the number of contract soldiers to 410,00 by 2020, when conscripts in uniform numbered only 260,000. The conscripts are a token of Russia’s limitations: The Kremlin would like to have a fully professional military but cannot afford it, so the draft is needed to fill the ranks. The reform plan called for a half-million contract soldiers by 2019, but only 405,000 were said to have been signed up and that figure is likely inflated. As of 2012, contract soldiers were paid 25 percent more than the average Russian civilian, and military benefits were comparatively generous as well. But inflation has been a key problem. Its erosion of contract soldiers’ pay and benefits has made military careers less enticing and driven down applicant quality: The military has been chasing not only fewer but less desirable recruits. Without able contract recruits, the dream of a high-quality, NCO-enabled Russian military can never come true. A traditional weakness of Soviet or Russian armies going back to czarist days has been the absence of career NCOs. A modern military relies on professional “noncoms”: They enjoy significant autonomy; keep commissioned officers and enlisted personnel working together; and give to the troops training, discipline, and (not least) hands-on leadership “at the sharp end.” Russia’s military reform recognized the need for a professional NCO force; within ten years after the Georgian campaign, contractors predominated in what were considered NCO billets. But questions remained about the depth of their training and the degree of initiative accorded them in an army where the idea of delegating authority downward has long been a foreign concept. In 2009, the Defense Ministry established an NCO academy, but the two-thousand graduates that it produces each year do not seem to have been enough to transform army culture. In 2010, seventy-thousand of the junior officers whom Serdyukov had discharged had to be recommissioned in order to keep doing what in the West would be classed as NCOs’ jobs. The available data suggest, and the war in Ukraine has confirmed, that Russia is a long way from fielding the kind of proficient NCO force that is essential to a modern military, and which Ukraine itself is increasingly displaying through its own performance under arms. Reform never even touched other areas. These include combat medicine, something that Western armies have worked hard on in recent decades. Quickly bringing together wounded soldiers and critical care is key, but the Russian military with its history of tolerating high casualties has focused little on this. Young Russian army doctors who resigned their commissions protested that they had been issued “practically nothing” to work with in terms of equipment and could “provide only first aid.”Generals and SoldiersLack of trust in subordinates and reluctance to delegate mark every command level of the Russian military. The Soviet-era practice of waiting for orders to filter down from headquarters—a custom meant to leave no room for independent thinking and creativity—often results in missed opportunities on the battlefield. Serdyukov dismissed or eased out about a third of senior officers, including the last group of critical thinkers who might have disagreed with Kremlin policy. He made senior generals’ promotion prospects depend on their ability to read the signs emanating from the Presidential Administration. Even at the top of the military hierarchy, generals are wary of taking initiative for fear of angering superiors who now include Putin himself. Nonetheless, it seems that some in the high command did question Putin’s plan going in, especially the idea of a lightning strike to seize Kyiv, warning that Russian troops and equipment were not up to the task. When the doubters turned out to be correct, the Kremlin apparently allowed these generals to draw up a new strategy. They then turned the conflict into a war of attrition based on the old Russian standby of overwhelming firepower. When massed artillery and aerial bombardment failed too, as fighting around the vital southern city of Kherson and Ukrainian breakthroughs in other sectors showed, Putin shook up his roster of senior commanders three times. In April, in June, and again in September, the Kremlin changed generals in search of better combat performance. In early October, Putin gave General Sergei Surovikin the task of turning the war around even as Ukrainian forces carried on with counterstrikes around the flanks and into the rear areas of surprised Russian formations. Surovikin’s qualifications include experience in complex combat environments as well as a reputation for “total ruthlessness,” “corruption and brutality,” and mistreating subordinates. In other words, he promises to be a perfect fit for Putin and his army. We can also see Putin’s distrust of his high command in his ever deeper personal involvement in military decisions. As the Ukrainians counterattacked in September 2022, he told his generals that he himself would now set strategy. His micromanagement of the war extends to making low-level tactical decisions and giving orders to frontline generals from the Kremlin. According to Western intelligence sources, the Russian president “is making operational decisions at the level of a colonel or brigadier,” helping to determine the movements of forces and ordering stands “at all costs” (an approach that leads to troop and equipment losses as units banned from making tactical retreats fall prey to encirclement). Putin’s heightened involvement likely stems from his realization that early in the war his commanders kept him in the dark about how badly Russian forces were faring against unexpectedly nimble and fierce Ukrainian resistance. But should Putin, who has no military background, ever have expected his forces to do well in Ukraine? Starting in 2008, military education and training of all ranks did improve. There were more drills, including large-scale joint exercises featuring tens of thousands of personnel from different Russian services. Beefed-up flight hours for military aviators and improved maintenance routines for their aircraft reduced mechanical failures and combat losses in Georgia and Syria. To put all this in context, however, it must be stressed that outside a few elite units, Russian training and maintenance standards across the board have never been more than modest, and hardly reach the levels that characterize the world’s top militaries. Despite pay raises, the Russian armed forces have been unable to attract the best and brightest of young Russians in the face of competition from the civilian labor market. Housing remains a problem for officers with families, and for years pay has not kept up with inflation. In many units, conditions are poor and junior officers are treated with contempt as superiors play favorites. Anecdotal evidence suggests that many officers with employment opportunities outside the military resign their commissions. The 2018 decision to revive the post of zampolit (political officer) in units as small as infantry companies harks back to the Soviet era and signals that the state doubts its soldiers’ loyalty. Mandatory military service has been unpopular. Many of those who can afford to avoid it (by bribing army doctors to declare them unfit) do so, while the most desperate flee the country or even deliberately injure themselves to evade the draft. The brutal hazing of raw recruits, sometimes with tragic results, remains a problem despite efforts to curtail it. In 2008, the period of mandatory active service was halved to a single year, which means that after training a soldier is available for just six months of duty. Most troops that the army considers combat-ready are not draftees, though (perhaps surprisingly) conscripts make up about a quarter of elite commando units. The army planned to reduce its intake of conscripts to 150,000 by 2021, but missed that goal. As the Ukraine war grinds on, unwilling draftees will become more common, and the army will increasingly have to rely on poorly trained and motivated soldiers. Putin’s 21 September 2022 call-up of 300,000 reservists put new focus on manpower issues just ten days before the beginning of the fall conscription period. Many experts believe that mobilizing hundreds of thousands of reservists will prove exceedingly difficult. So far, the call-up has fallen disproportionately on ethnic minorities. These include nomadic reindeer herders from northeastern Yakutia (5,600 kilometers from Kyiv) as well as the Crimean Tatars, long repressed by Soviet and Russian regimes and vocal opponents of the peninsula’s annexation. Even if those mobilized are actual reservists, it is likely that only a fraction of them have had regular training in the years since they left active duty. It will be months before these troops can add to Moscow’s war effort. In a September 29 video call with advisors, Putin publicly admitted “mistakes” such as call-ups of fathers with children, people with chronic illnesses, and some over military age. Mobilized soldiers, some of them middle-aged, have complained that they were kept in “cattle conditions,” had to buy their own food, and received ill-fitting boots and uniforms as well as old, poorly kept weapons. The president left it to regional governors and officials below them to fix the problems, not mentioning that his own policies have undermined local governments’ capacities. During the first week after the mobilization declaration, at least 200,000 young Russians and their families absconded to neighboring countries including Kyrgyzstan and Mongolia, as well as farther afield. The absconders were joining millions of their fellow citizens, many of them young and highly educated, who have voted with their feet against Putin’s war. In recent years, elite troops and private military firms in Moscow’s employ have done much of Russia’s fighting. The best known among the latter is the Wagner Group, a mercenary outfit possibly named for the German composer and established in 2014 by Dmitri Utkin, a former special-forces lieutenant-colonel, and Yevgeny Prigozhin, an oligarch from Putin’s inner circle with multiple Soviet-era criminal convictions. The unit is allegedly overseen by Russia’s military-intelligence agency, the GRU, in which Utkin served. How Wagner gets paid remains murky, but funds likely come from state sources as well as oligarchs. Wagner operatives in their insignia-free uniforms were the “little green men” who first appeared during Putin’s Crimea takeover, and since then have taken part in armed conflicts in Syria as well as several African states including Libya, Mali, Mozambique, and Sudan. Reportedly, more than a thousand Wagner mercenaries have deployed to Luhansk Oblast in the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine and have suffered heavy casualties. Wherever they go, human-rights violations and war crimes follow.Failings of a State-Run Defense IndustryThe Russian state is the main owner of the industries that yield most of its income (energy, banking, arms, and transport) and is directly involved in running them. As state-owned corporations, defense companies enjoy cheap credit, debt relief, and freedom from competitive market pressures. Although the state has invested heavily in the defense industry and has seen success in some areas, on balance Russia’s arms makers have failed to narrow the distance—and especially the quality gap—between their wares and those of the world’s leading weapons producers. Starting around 2005, Moscow’s defense reforms and ambitious armaments programs began to demand serious military-spending hikes. The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute and the International Institute for Strategic Studies in London broadly agree that the Russian military budget swelled from about US$20 billion in the late 1990s to more than four times that amount in 2015, before subsiding to its current official figure of $65.9 billion (or 4.1 percent of Russia’s 2021 Gross Domestic Product). In nominal terms, this is less than a tenth of annual U.S. defense spending, but there is reason to think that these figures grossly understate the real volume of Russian military expenditures. Using Purchasing Power Parity (PPP) measures, Moscow’s effective military expenditures may be as high as $200 billion per year. In recent years, only the United States, China, and India have had defense budgets that exceed Russia’s. Russia’s State Armament Program of 2011–20 aimed to breathe new life into the defense industry by commissioning it to manufacture or refurbish 70 percent of the military’s weaponry. Official sources claim that the industry achieved this. It developed new artillery, introduced some highly accurate cruise missiles, delivered several hundred new tanks (including the highly touted T-90M), and updated hundreds more with improved armor and electronics. Almost five-hundred new fighter jets, mainly Su-27s and MiG-31s armed with radar-guided missiles, were to boost Russian airpower to a new level, with hundreds of new combat helicopters and modernized older warplanes securing Moscow’s domination of the skies. The latest State Armament Program, which began in 2020 and is to end in 2027, is more modest and focuses on advancing mobility, logistics, and the optimization and standardization of extant weapons systems. Over the past decade, Russia has become the world’s second-largest arms exporter behind the United States. Russia’s share of sales in this market from 2017 through 2021 was 19 percent while the U.S. share was 39 percent. Seeing the mediocre performance and vulnerability to Western weapons (such as the U.S.-made Javelin antitank missile) of Russian arms in Ukraine, countries that have been buying military hardware from Russia (the top three customers are China, India, and Egypt) may think twice about purchasing from Moscow again. The systemic and structural challenges that beset Russia’s defense industry are not going away. Supply-chain problems delay deliveries. Money to replace outdated machine tools and pay for research and development is lacking, while neglect of quality control is common. A recent analysis concluded: Centralized and inefficient bureaucracies, weak intellectual property rights and rule of law, poor investment climate, pervasive corruption, and insufficient funding are among the problems that hinder swift progress in fields that are particularly dependent on creating a breeding ground for creativity and the free exchange of ideas.Russian arms makers are a long way from producing weapons that can compete with Western weapons in technological sophistication and general quality. Large-scale building of precision-guided munitions, targeting systems, and heavy-strike long-range drones is beyond the reach of Russian industry. The onset of conflict with Ukraine in 2014 cost the Russian military-industrial establishment its longstanding and beneficial ties to Ukrainian weapons producers. Now sanctions have cut off Russia’s access to the Western optics and electronics that are key to advanced modern weapons. Expanding existing factories will be hard, as funds and other requisites are not there. Ambitious plans announced with much fanfare and bluster have often come to little or nothing. In 2008, the first year of military reform, there was a proposal to create autonomous mobile forces teaming airborne, naval-infantry, and special-forces components, but nothing has come of it. The widely publicized program to produce a fifth-generation fighter, the Sukhoi Su-57, is now more than twenty years old and has generated nothing but a few prototypes. The Su-57 is the first stealth aircraft Russia has ever attempted. Meant to be capable of both air-to-air and air-to-ground combat, it is supposed to be Russia’s answer to the U.S.-built Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II, thousands of which are being produced for the United States and multiple allies around the world, including nine or more NATO countries. Technical setbacks, India’s decision to pull its financing, and a December 2019 crash (the first publicly known) make it doubtful that the Su-57 will be ready for full-scale production anytime soon. Since Soviet times, the security sector has been among the most troubled parts of the economy when it comes to graft and corruption In the twenty-first century, Russia has become, in Karen Dawisha’s fitting formulation, “Putin’s kleptocracy.” Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index for 2021 gave Russia a corruption score of 29, putting it far closer on the 100-point honesty scale to the world’s most corrupt country (South Sudan with an 11) than to its least corrupt (Denmark, Finland, and New Zealand with an 88 each). As defense minister, Serdyukov made it a major goal to root out or at least curb the bribery and fraud often tied to arms procurement, as well as the misuse of funds set aside to improve living conditions for the troops. Putin fired Serdyukov in 2012 because of the latter’s links to a Defense Ministry official charged with embezzlement. Large-scale corruption continues, with often hundreds of millions of dollars disappearing. A Russian military prosecutor recently admitted that about a fifth of the Defense Ministry’s budget was stolen; other officials said that it could be as high as two-fifths. Few experts would disagree with former Russian foreign minister Andrei Kozyrev’s recent claim that the corruption—and the fear of telling Putin about it—had left Russia with a “Potemkin military.”Under Arms and UnderwhelmingHow are Russian forces doing in Ukraine? It is impossible to discern precisely because most Western sources are Ukraine-friendly, while both Ukrainian and Russian media have incentives to bend the truth. That said, Russia’s military performance has been far below what most experts expected. Experts have been surprised because their assumptions were faulty. The Russian military’s track record going back to 2008 may have looked impressive on the surface, but it was compiled against weak adversaries. Georgia is very small, and its miniscule army was poorly organized to boot. In Crimea, Moscow’s troops faced little resistance. In Syria, much was made of Russian airpower’s renewed capabilities, but it was up against insurgents whose air-defense capabilities were modest at best. Russia also sent into these lesser-scale operations mostly elite troops and special forces, not average soldiers. In short, the Russian military experienced nothing like the demanding combat environment that it has met with in Ukraine. As of this writing, the war in Ukraine is almost a year old. The course of the fighting has undercut the many experts who claimed that post-2008 Russia had clawed its way into the first class of the world’s military powers. So far, Russian forces from the top down have failed most of the tests facing them in Ukraine. Military planners seldom do well to underestimate an opponent. After seizing Crimea, Putin predicted that Kyiv could be taken in two weeks; in 2022, he shrank that figure to two days. The Russian high command underestimated how many soldiers it would need to attack Ukraine while overestimating the number of locals who would welcome them. Conquering a city such as Kyiv, with its three-million people spread over 839 square kilometers split by a large river and its tributaries, would have required a massive number of collaborators. Once the plan for a quick air-mobile strike at the Ukrainian capital’s downtown collapsed amid firefights with fast-reacting Ukrainian forces at Antonov Airport northwest of the city on February 24 and 25, Russia’s campaign fell apart. Misconceived operational plans, careless logistics, and the lack of combined-arms coordination all suggest deep deficiencies in Russia’s high command. The invaders handled their tanks poorly, trying to drive them forward without proper logistical support or infantry escorts to keep Ukrainian drones and ambush teams at bay. In the skies, overcautious Russian pilots “punched below their weight,” failing to translate their superior airpower into gains on the ground. Russian troops struggled to use their communications systems and failed to disrupt their enemies’ access to satellite signals. Stories of Ukrainian soldiers using smartphones in combat to call their trainers in the United Kingdom for advice, like the ability of those defending the Azovstal steel works in Mariupol to stay in electronic touch with Ukrainian intelligence throughout the five-week siege in April and May, hint at Russian ineptitude. Troops’ general sloppiness—their neglect of small but important tasks such as properly inflating truck tires, for instance—proved costly to Russia’s war effort. As the war drags on, it is unlikely that fresh Russian officers and soldiers dispatched to Ukraine will be better prepared and equipped, or will perform better, than those whom they replace. Nuclear threats could easily backfire: If Russia were to “go atomic,” it might lose its remaining allies, misgauge wind direction and have fallout drift back over Russian territory, or find itself directly at war with a NATO alliance capable (even without nuclear weapons) of inflicting massive destruction on Russian military assets. Further, Russia’s stocks of tactical and medium-range nuclear warheads are, like many Russian weapons, Soviet leftovers. They have been sitting in scattered storage sites for decades. The work of rendering these warheads operational would involve much effort and risk of human error. There is a good chance it would also be detected by Western intelligence given the known locations of stockpiles, the limited number of units even capable (on paper) of handling and firing these warheads, and the travel distances to the theater of conflict that would be involved. The underlying theme of the assault on Ukraine has been the yawning gap between what Putin and his forces want to do, on the one hand, and what they can do, on the other. Ambition is not ability. A Revitalized Ukrainian Army Just a few years ago, Ukraine’s military itself was facing daunting challenges. An ambitious reform program was launched in 2006, but it failed amid political instability, corruption, and inadequate resources eaten by inflation and the 2008 global financial crisis. This top-down overhaul was also poorly conceived: Ukraine was striving to create an all-professional force with cutting-edge technology and advanced command and control in defiance of institutional and funding constraints. Moscow’s 2014 aggression against Crimea and the Donbas shook authorities out of this reverie and into a push for swift change in the Armed Forces of Ukraine (AFU). Under President Petro Poroshenko (2014–19), naval and defense-industry reform succumbed to infighting and embezzlement, but the creation of an autonomous special-forces command with four-thousand troops was a success. The 2014 events showed that large numbers of soldiers would be needed to defend Ukraine against Russia. The draft, abolished in 2013, was brought back in 2014. More innovatively, the AFU also became a community-based military. The financially strapped government appealed to civil society, the large Ukrainian diaspora around the world, and ordinary people to help fund the AFU and to join its ranks. New organizations cropped up “to equip, uniform, protect, and improve the Ukrainian Army as soon as possible” and to supply much-needed military equipment—their donations made up 4 percent of the Ukrainian defense budget in 2015. Another significant change that partly relieved the AFU’s manpower shortage was the creation of volunteer battalions that already by 2014 comprised more than ten-thousand fighters. While raising some disciplinary concerns, they proved effective in the conflict against separatists in eastern Ukraine and are likely to play a consequential defense role for years to come. Finally, Western countries led by the United States and Britain but also including (remarkably) Germany have sent lethal military aid that makes Kyiv’s forces measurably more effective on the battlefield. As of mid-October 2022, Washington had offered about $66 billion—a sum more than eleven times larger than Ukraine’s entire 2021 defense budget. The help has been high in both quantity and quality, including as it has sophisticated items such as U.S.-made M142 HIMARS mobile precision multiple-rocket launchers, British- and U.S.-made M777 155-millimeter howitzers, various types of UAVs, and more. Between 2015 and February 2022, active-duty British soldiers trained more than 22,000 Ukrainian recruits in western Ukraine through a program called Operation Orbital. As of September 2022, instructors from Canada, Denmark, Finland, Lithuania, the Netherlands, New Zealand, and Sweden were joining U.K. soldiers to give accelerated training to thousands more Ukrainians at camps in Britain. The programs teach junior officers, NCOs, and soldiers to think critically and make independent frontline decisions without waiting for permission from commanders sitting at distant headquarters. Ukraine’s military has been everything that Putin’s army has not. The smaller country has managed to convert its own recent reforms and massive Western aid into combat advantages. Defending their own soil, Ukrainian volunteer and professional soldiers alike have excelled in drive, courage, and resourcefulness. President Volodymyr Zelensky has been a revelation: Ukrainians are fortunate to have been led by a clear-thinking and uncompromising figure who knows that this is a contest between democracy and tyranny. The war has made Ukrainian nationhood (long denied by Russian nationalists of Putin’s type) undeniable and has underscored the larger but too-easily-forgotten truth that freedom is not free. Opposition to the invasion has also brought Western democracies closer together as members of NATO, which is adding Finland and Sweden to its ranks. If NATO continues to stand united behind Ukraine, David will have very good chances against Goliath.

Defense & Security
President of Russia Vladimir Putin

Russia Faces Three Pivotal Moments in 2023

by Tatiana Stanovaya

In 2023, Russia faces three crucial issues—President Vladimir Putin’s plans for his future, the battle between the hawks and pragmatists in the elite, and looming government personnel changes—that could reshape the country.  More than ten months on from the invasion of Ukraine, the contrast between the scale of the external shocks faced by Russia and the relative inertia inside the country is striking. Despite military failings and punishing sanctions, most Russians have gone on with their lives as though nothing is happening, while the elites have tried not to think about what tomorrow may bring, instead putting their full trust in Putin. However, 2023 could prove a dramatic year for Russia and be make-or-break for its leadership’s resistance to change, with three internal questions in particular promising to shape the country’s development for decades to come.  First, Putin will have to decide whether to run for re-election in 2024. Russia’s constitution was amended in 2020 to allow him to remain president until 2036. He may alternatively name a successor, though to leave enough time for campaigning, he would have to do so by the end of December 2023. For now, no one is sure what his plans are. This is by design, as Putin prefers to keep his elites in the dark. Indeed, in the summer of 2020, he justified the constitutional changes that made it possible to extend his rule as a guard against unrest among the elites, who he said “need to work, not look around for successors.” Following the revision of the constitution, both the presidential administration and elites operated on the assumption that Putin would hold on to power indefinitely. Today, the key question is how his calculations have been changed by the war and, in particular, the fact that it has not gone according to plan. Some believe that in unleashing grave problems and threats, the war has strengthened Putin’s resolve to stay in power beyond 2024. Given his contempt for “political deserters”—those who quit their posts in tough times—he is unlikely to become one of them. Others feel that not only is Putin open to giving up power, he may see doing so as part of a solution to the conflict with Ukraine. Even if that appears to be wishful thinking, part of the elite clearly hopes that such a reset will suffice to end Russia’s recent string of setbacks. However, both sides lack certainty about his designs. In any case, Putin is famously fond of making decisions at the eleventh hour, often based on situational factors and in defiance of popular expectations. The 2024 problem, then, has become a major source of anxiety for the elites. It will do more than any other issue to influence the events of 2023, as the political class tries to work out Putin’s intentions and plan around them with an eye to minimizing risk. A second, related issue is the growing schism between those in the elites who favor escalating the war, and those who warn against doing so. This divide emerged after Russia’s withdrawal from the Kharkiv region and relinquishing of the key city of Kherson, and was fueled by Ukraine’s strike on the bridge to Crimea, the referendums held on annexing occupied parts of Ukraine, and the authorities’ subsequent ambiguity on what Russia’s official borders are.  The pragmatists, who consist of technocrats as well as mid-ranking officials in the military and the security services, are united in their conviction that the war should be paused and rethought, and that the country should opt for a more realistic policy in keeping with its rather limited capacities. The hawks call for Russia to not only unleash its full military might against Ukraine, but also to radically restructure its own political and economic system. The latter plank makes theirs a revolutionary faction (albeit pro-Putin, for now at least) whose aim is to supplant a government they see as stalled. Their struggle for supremacy is set to be one of 2023’s key political fights, and one that hinges largely on events on the battlefield: the worse Russia performs militarily, the more vicious the pragmatists’ battle with the hawks. The Kremlin will find its preferred mechanism for suppressing dissent—repression—ill-fitting if used against the regime’s loyalists. The hawks will take the offensive, targeting the military brass and politicians, as Yevgeny Prigozhin, the notorious head of the Wagner private military company, already has. The pragmatists, meanwhile, will express doom and gloom about the direction of the conflict, seeking to scale back Moscow’s war goals and force recognition that victory is impossible. Their message will be well received by non-military elites, who were taken by surprise by the invasion and fear its medium-term consequences. All this leaves Russia stuck between military madness and careful consideration of a possible de-escalation, and Putin faced with a choice: between doubling down on his quixotic pursuit of Kyiv’s decisive defeat and returning to the negotiating table, with the West if not Ukraine. The third key issue Russia faces in 2023 revolves around government personnel changes, which are highly likely, even if it is hard to predict who will replace whom. One reason a reshuffle is near-certain is the increasing demand at the top for dynamism and effectiveness. Putin’s inclination to invite technocrats into the government may grow further, with senior figures in the cabinet, the presidential administration, and the power structures all aged and exhausted by the war and military failings forcing Putin to look for new ideas. Another is the coming presidential contest, given the historical record: reshuffles have preceded all but one of Russia’s presidential elections. A long buildup of tension within the government offers another reason to expect personnel changes. Defense Minister Sergey Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov are being blamed for corruption within the armed forces, while the FSB has been slammed for intelligence failures. Security Council Deputy Chairman Dmitry Medvedev is seen as having lost the plot altogether, and Moscow Mayor Sergey Sobyanin as too apolitical, while central bank governor Elvira Nabiullina is suspected of secretly opposing the war. The government’s senior figures are all dissatisfied with each other: a mutual dislike that gives Putin cause to switch things up. Still, his conservatism and apprehensiveness when it comes to firing underlings will likely lead him to try to strike a balance between stability and renewal.  These fateful developments will be profoundly influenced by events on the battlefield. If, as Kyiv has predicted, Russia attempts a large-scale offensive in February or March, it will likely be met with significant Ukrainian resistance. Otherwise, Moscow will continue slowly strangling Ukraine with attacks on its infrastructure, to which Kyiv will respond with diversionary attacks on Russian soil. Russian political life will remain in the grip of the war’s grim and oppressive atmosphere, leaving elites even more anxious and fearful of the future. Putin’s hypersecrecy and refusal to explain himself to anyone will do nothing to help the situation. Repression will undoubtedly grow, with all dissent criminalized, elements of a state ideology introduced, and new pretexts found for even longer prison sentences. In 2023, Russia’s already historic war with Ukraine will show its full transformational potential, finally changing Russia from within and straining its leaders’ ability to keep the situation under control and plan the decisions they make.

Defense & Security
Finland's President Sauli Niinisto and NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg give a press conference during a NATO foreign affairs ministers' meeting in Brussels, Belgium

Finland joins Nato in a major blow to Putin which doubles the length of the alliance’s border with Russia

by Simon J Smith

In 1948, the Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation, and Mutual Assistance was signed between the Soviet Union and Finland, providing a key basis for relations between the two states that was to last throughout the cold war. With memories of the 1939 “winter war” between the two still acute, the agreement embodied the Paasikivi–Kekkonen doctrine, named for two of Finland’s post-war presidents who developed the idea between 1946 and 1982 of a neutral Finland close to the USSR. It also set the context for the term “Finlandisation” used by international relations scholars to describe external interference by a powerful country in the foreign policy of a smaller neighbouring state. A year later, on April 4 1949, the North Atlantic Treaty was signed by the 12 founding members of Nato. Throughout the cold war, Finland remained a neutral state – although more due to circumstance than by choice. And despite its 1,340km (832 mile) border with Russia, it chose not to join Nato in the late 1990s, even as many of its eastern European neighbours did. It officially abandon its policy of neutrality in 1994, joining Nato’s Partnership for Peace and then the European Union in 1995. But aspirations to become a full Nato member state had not quite matured. That all ended with Russia’s second invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. Finland (and Sweden) submitted their formal applications to join the alliance on May 18 2022 and this was endorsed by Nato members at the most recent summit in Madrid in June. Although accession to Nato membership was relatively quick, there were objections from some members, most notably Turkey and, to a lesser extent, Hungary. Turkey held up membership for Finland – and is still doing so for Sweden – due to its concerns over what it called support for terrorist groups, namely the Kurdistan Workers’ party (PKK). Hungary also raised objections due to what it regarded as criticism by the Nordic states with regard to the strength of Hungarian democracy. But Nato chief Jens Stoltenberg said recently he is confident that Sweden could become a member by summer.View from MoscowIf Putin was hoping to achieve the Finlandisation of Nato as one of his strategic aims of the war, what he has actually achieved was the “Natoisation” of Finland since it has now become the alliance’s 31st member state. With this comes Article 5 guarantees – the an attack on one member is an attack on the alliance as a whole and must be responded to as such. This fundamentally changes the defence and security posture of Finland, and European security architecture as a whole. Implications include the size and geographical focus of the alliance (even more so if Sweden joins in the not-too-distant future) as well as inter-organisational relations between Nato and the EU, the other key pillar of the European security architecture. And Finland is not playing catch up in order to meet its Nato commitments. In fact, Finland will be a net contributor to the alliance’s overall collective defence. Over recent years, it has been modernising its armed forces, purchasing robust military capabilities and, unlike the majority of member states, it meets the Nato target of 2% of GDP spent on its own defence. Putin has, of course, issued warnings to Finland (and Sweden) about joining the alliance. In 2016, Putin stated that “When we look across the border now, we see a Finn on the other side. If Finland joins Nato, we will see an enemy.” Although there have been mixed signals with regard to Russia’s views on the sovereign right of Finland to join a collective defence organisation if it so chooses (although Russia does not extend this position to Ukraine itelf), it is gravely concerned that Nato will position military capabilities in Finland, on its border – and close to Russia’s own strategically important bases and geography. Although Russia is very much focused on correcting its strategic blunders in Ukraine, it will at some stage begin to recover and, therefore, reconstitute its armed forces and military posture. Of particular concern could be Russia’s increased dependency on its tactical nuclear posture to offset its (temporarily) decreased capacity with regard to conventional capabilities. Although we do not know what the future holds, given both the duration and eventual outcome of the war, Russia will continue to have security concerns. And now it has a border with Nato that will run from the High North down to the Black Sea and beyond. This is guaranteed to lock in continued tensions between the alliance and Russia for years to come. Nato fundamentally thinks of itself as a collective defence organisation, with (nuclear) deterrence as its core strength. Russia will continue to see the alliance as a key stalwart undermining its threat perceptions and ability to affect its own near abroad. So as the Finnish flag is raised at Nato HQ in Brussels, It would be naive to think that Russia will not respond – even if its power to do so is currently somewhat diminished.

Defense & Security
The two F-16s returning to Aviano AB with their load of aam and JDAMs

NATO Needs a New Strategy for the Baltic Sea

by Luke Coffey

With Sweden and Finland soon joining the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), the alliance needs to act quickly to develop plans that acknowledge the new geopolitical reality in the Baltic Sea region. When Sweden and Finland become members, the alliance will need a comprehensive approach to security that considers the region as a whole—instead of dividing it into the traditional “Baltic” and “Nordic” camps. Since Peter the Great (1682–1725), Russia has had imperial designs on the region, and this is unlikely to change in the foreseeable future. Russia’s tactical-level defeats in eastern Ukraine should not inspire strategic complacency in NATO policymakers. They should view the entry of Sweden and Finland into NATO as the starting point, and not the finish line, for bolstering Baltic Sea security. If NATO takes the right steps, Sweden and Finland’s entry will allow the alliance to defend the Baltic states more easily and deter Russian aggression more effectively in the region. Among other things, the following measures can accomplish this goal: - Update and modernize NATO’s contingency plans in the Baltic Sea region- Emphasize the role of the Åland Islands, Gotland, and Bornholm, as well as the Danish Straits, in Baltic Sea contingency planning- Establish a NATO battlegroup in Finland- Increase the alliance’s maritime presence in the Baltic Sea- Establish a permanent military presence in the Baltic states- Establish a Baltic Sea Air Defense mission- Develop contingency plans for Belarus and Kaliningrad in the event of an armed conflict in the Baltic Sea regionA New Geopolitical Reality NATO needs to continuously update its contingency plans as the security landscape in Europe evolves and new members join the alliance. In the past, NATO has often been too slow to take these steps. For example, after the three Baltic States (Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania) joined in 2004, NATO was hesitant to develop contingency plans for the Baltic states for fear that doing so might antagonize Russia. This complacency started to change in 2008 after Russia’s invasion of Georgia. At this time, NATO finally developed its first set of contingency plans for the Baltic states1 However, NATO did not start to take its security responsibilities on the eastern flank seriously until Russia’s first invasion of Ukraine in 2014. Immediately after the invasion, the United States deployed an infantry company to each of the three Baltic states on a rotational basis. 2 After the 2016 NATO Summit in Warsaw, this modest US rotational presence transformed into the establishment of four Enhanced Forward Presence (EFP) multinational battalions stationed in Poland and the Baltic states.3 In 2020, the alliance adopted new defense plans for the Baltics4 Since Russia’s second invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, NATO has agreed to increase its troop presence in the Baltics from a battalion-sized force to a brigade “where and when required5 Now that Sweden and Finland will soon be NATO members, the alliance will need to update its planning for the Baltic Sea region once again. The addition of Sweden and Finland to NATO will be good for the alliance for several reasons. Both countries possess robust militaries that will add significant capabilities to the alliance. Both have demonstrated the political will to deploy forces abroad to places such as Afghanistan, the Balkans, the skies over Libya, and sub-Saharan Africa. Both have provided significant military and humanitarian aid to Ukraine. Perhaps most importantly, Sweden and Finland’s entry into the alliance provides much-needed clarity regarding their expected roles in the event of Russian aggression in the region. Specifically, NATO can more easily defend the three Baltic states if Sweden and Finland are in the alliance. Without these two countries inside NATO, the three Baltic states are geographically isolated from the rest of the alliance. To the east of the Baltic states are Russia and Belarus. To the west, Lithuania shares a border with the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad (see figure 1). Only Lithuania shares a land border with another non-Baltic NATO member—a 65-mile border with Poland to the southwest, between Kaliningrad and Belarus, known as the Suwalki Gap. This geographical isolation makes NATO’s contingency planning for the Baltic states difficult. While Russian military planners always assumed Finland and Sweden would come to NATO’s aid in the event of a crisis, NATO’s military planners had no such guarantee. Once Finland and Sweden join the alliance, their role in NATO’s regional security planning will finally be clarified. However, the new geopolitical reality in the Baltic Sea means that NATO will need to update contingency planning for the land, air, and sea domains in the region: - Changes in the Baltic land domain. Finland has an 830-mile border with Russia. Though the Finnish military has adequately defended this border for decades, NATO ought to decide how it will integrate into Finland’s national defense plans. This is also true of Finland’s Åland Islands and Sweden’s island of Gotland—which NATO defense planning for the Baltic Sea region should now consider. Also, NATO will have to examine ground lines of communication (GLOCs) contingencies and defense plans for the entire Scandinavian Peninsula, and not just for Norway as has been the case for decades. As for the Baltic states, the Suwalki Gap will remain their main GLOC.  - Changes in the Baltic air domain. Sweden and Finland’s entry into the alliance doubles the number of fourth- and fifth-generation fighters operated by NATO’s Nordic member states.6 NATO already has a well-established Baltic Air Policing mission for the three Baltic States. With Sweden and Finland in NATO, the alliance will need to expand the mission and geographical scope of the existing Baltic Air Policing operation to one focused on air defense.  - Changes in the Baltic region maritime domain. Sweden and Finland’s entry into NATO will add another 95,775 square miles of economic exclusive zone and 2,780 miles of coastline to the alliance. The unique status of the Åland Islands (see figure 1) brings new challenges to NATO planners. Meanwhile, access to and use of Gotland bring opportunities. In addition, the Danish Straits and Denmark’s Bornholm Island will become even more important to NATO’s contingency plans in the Baltic Sea region.  NATO’s Baltic Chain of DefenseThe Baltic Sea region is home to geographical locations of strategic importance for regional security. This makes Swedish and Finnish membership in NATO imperative. History has shown that most military operations in the Baltic region require access to what is today Swedish and Finnish air, sea, and land. For example, during the Crimean War (1853–56) and the Allied intervention in the Russian Civil War (1918–20), the then Swedish fortress of Viapori (today known as Suomenlinna in Finland) and the Åland Islands played crucial roles. During both world wars, the Danish Straits—which border Swedish waters and serve as a gateway to the Baltic Sea—were highly contested. During the Cold War, Denmark’s Bornholm was an area of contention between the Soviet Union and NATO. In the twenty-first century, these considerations have not disappeared. As Sweden and Finland join NATO, they will add two vital pieces of Baltic Sea real estate to the alliance: the Åland Islands and Gotland. Along with Denmark’s Bornholm, these islands form a Baltic chain of defense for NATO. Åland Islands The Åland Islands are a group of 6,700 Finnish islands where the primary spoken language is Swedish. They have always been considered some of the most important geostrategic real estate in the Baltic Sea. During the Crimean War, Sir Charles Wood, Britain’s first lord of the admiralty, said, “Those islands hung over Stockholm as much as Sebastopol hung over Constantinople7 Since the 1856 Treaty of Paris, which ended the Crimean War, the Åland Islands have been demilitarized and have remained neutral. For the victors, this was considered a major achievement of the Crimean War. British Prime Minister Lord Palmerston told the House of Commons in 1856 that demilitarization of the islands “placed a barrier between her [Russia] and the north of Europe.”8 The 1921 Convention Relating to the Non-fortification and Neutralization of the Aaland [sic] Islands reaffirmed the demilitarized and neutral nature of the islands and gave Finland the primary responsibility to guarantee this special status. Article 7 of the convention states that “if the neutrality of the zone should be imperiled by a sudden attack either against the Aaland [sic] Islands or across them against the Finnish mainland, Finland shall take the necessary measures in the zone to check and repulse the aggressor.”9 When Finland becomes a member of NATO, Helsinki’s military and security responsibilities to ensure that the islands remain demilitarized and neutral will also become, by extension, a NATO responsibility. Therefore, in a time of armed conflict, NATO must provide any assistance Finland needs to ensure that the special status of the Åland Islands remains in place. Gotland The Swedish island of Gotland is slightly smaller than Guam and sits approximately 60 miles off the coast of Sweden. It is strategically located halfway between Sweden and Latvia in the middle of the Baltic Sea. Due to its central location, there is a concern that Russian troops based in nearby Kaliningrad would attempt to occupy the island and deploy anti-aircraft and anti-shipping weapons platforms in the event of a war with NATO. Sweden maintained a permanent military garrison on the island for hundreds of years until 2005, when it decided to demilitarize the island as part of a downsizing program for the Swedish Armed Forces. One year after Russia’s 2014 invasion of Ukraine, the Swedish government announced plans to remilitarize the island. Today, around 400 Swedish soldiers are permanently stationed on the island.10 Stockholm plans to boost the defense of Gotland further and to ensure it can reinforce the island quickly and easily if ever required. The Swedish government’s 2020 Total Defense 2021–2025 legislation stated,11 “Also important is enhancing the units on Gotland, where the core comprises a mechanized battalion with reinforcement resources.” In recent years, Gotland has also been the focus of US- and NATO-led military exercises in the region. For example, during the annual BALTOPS exercise in 2022, US Marines rehearsed amphibious operations on Gotland. Bornholm Bornholm is a Danish island strategically located at the mouth of the Baltic Sea. It recently made the news after sabotage—likely from Russa—damaged the Nord Stream pipelines nearby. At the end of World War II, the Soviet Union briefly occupied the island but returned it to Denmark in 1946. At that time Denmark and the Soviet Union unofficially agreed that NATO would not use the island, although Denmark maintained a military presence there during the Cold War. In June 2014, Russia carried out a simulated strike against Bornholm during an annual political festival with 90,000 attendees, including most of Denmark’s political elite.12 In the aftermath of Russia’s 2014 invasion of Ukraine, Danish policymakers began taking the island’s security more seriously. US policymakers have also noticed the island’s importance. In May 2022, as part of the DEFENDER-Europe 22 multinational exercises, the US military made history when it transported a US M142 High-Mobility Artillery Rocket Systems (HIMARS) battery in a C-17 Globemaster III that landed on Bornholm as part of a “rapid infiltration exercise,”13 the first time such a US military presence had occurred on the island. According to the US Army, the goal of the exercises was “to show the strategic reach of the HIMARS rocket system.” 15 Predictably, the Russian ambassador to Denmark, Vladimir Barbin, complained and warned that such a military exercise on Bornholm risks turning the island from a “peaceful haven into a potential military bridgehead.”15 It would be extremely naive to think Russia did not factor the importance of the Åland Islands, Gotland, and Bornholm, as well as the Danish Straits, into its Baltic Sea contingency planning.  NATO would be irresponsible if it did not do the same. The Kaliningrad Factor Not all the strategic spots in the Baltic Sea are part of NATO, as Kaliningrad Oblast is also important to regional security. Kaliningrad is a small Russian exclave along the Baltic Sea bordering NATO members Lithuania and Poland. In terms of size, it is slightly larger than Connecticut and has roughly the same population as Delaware. However, it plays an outsized role in Russia’s projection of power. Kaliningrad is part of Russia’s Western Military District and is home to two air bases (Chernyakhovsk and Donskoye) and Russia’s Baltic Fleet headquarters. Russia also has facilities for storing tactical nuclear weapons in Kaliningrad,16 and some military strategists suspect that Russia keeps nuclear weapons there. 17 Before the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine, Moscow maintained approximately 25,000 Russian troops and security personnel, hundreds of tanks and armored vehicles, S-400 air defense systems, P-800 anti-ship cruise missiles, and sizeable air and naval assets in Kaliningrad. Since 2016, Russia has also maintained Iskander-M short-range ballistic missiles in Kaliningrad. The Iskander-M missile, which has a suspected range of 310 miles, can threaten Gotland and Bornholm with nuclear or conventional warheads from here. However, Russia has reportedly sent some of its forces, weapons systems, and other platforms to Ukraine since the Kremlin launched its invasion in February 2022.Before the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine, Moscow maintained approximately 25,000 Russian troops and security personnel, hundreds of tanks and armored vehicles, S-400 air defense systems, P-800 anti-ship cruise missiles, and sizeable air and naval assets in Kaliningrad. Since 2016, Russia has also maintained Iskander-M short-range ballistic missiles in Kaliningrad. The Iskander-M missile, which has a suspected range of 310 miles, can threaten Gotland and Bornholm with nuclear or conventional warheads from here. However, Russia has reportedly sent some of its forces, weapons systems, and other platforms to Ukraine since the Kremlin launched its invasion in February 2022.18 In reality, there is no accurate open-source assessment of what Russia maintains in Kaliningrad today. Kaliningrad is important for Russia’s geopolitical aims in the Baltic Sea for three reasons: 1. Kaliningrad allows Russia to project power in the region in a way it would be unable to without access to the exclave. If Moscow wanted to try capturing the Åland Islands, Gotland, or Bornholm, it would do so using Kaliningrad. 2. Kaliningrad serves as the cornerstone of Russia’s anti-access/area denial (A2/AD) strategy in the Baltic Sea region. If Russia has control of Kaliningrad during an armed conflict, NATO’s ability to act in the Baltic Sea region will be limited. 3. The possibility that Russia could access Kaliningrad through NATO and European Union member Lithuania offers Moscow an easy and low-cost way to increase tensions with the West. For example, in July, Russia falsely accused Lithuania of illegally blocking the transit of certain items to Kaliningrad.19 Also, many of the aerial incidents that cause NATO planes from Baltic Air Policing to scramble involve Russian planes flying to or from bases in Kaliningrad. Recommendations In the aftermath of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and with two states becoming new NATO members soon, the Baltic Sea region requires increased attention from the alliance’s leaders, who will need to develop a new strategy. The US should lead the way inside NATO to prepare the alliance to deal with these changes. The US and NATO can better prepare for contingencies in the Baltic Sea region by taking the following steps: - Update and modernize NATO’s contingency plans in the Baltic Sea region. With Sweden and Finland coming into the alliance, the geopolitical reality in the Baltic Sea region has changed. NATO should update its plans for the Baltic Sea region. It is in America’s interest to lead this process. - Publish a special annex to NATO’s 2022 Strategic Concept. NATO published its long overdue Strategic Concept at the 2022 Madrid Summit, but there was no formal input from Sweden and Finland since neither were members at the time. When both formally become members, NATO should work with Stockholm and Helsinki to publish a special annex to its 2022 Strategic Concept to factor in the new geopolitical reality in the Baltic Sea region. - Consider the special status of the Åland Islands in NATO’s plans. There is no doubt that Russia factors the importance and location of the Åland Islands into its war planning. The demilitarized and neutral status of the Åland Islands makes contingency planning tricky for NATO. When developing its approach to these islands, the alliance should look at how the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard—which shares some legal similarities with the Åland Islands—factors into NATO’s defense planning. NATO should also work in close consultation with the Finnish government and, where necessary and appropriate, the devolved government in Åland. - Call for a special North Atlantic Council (NAC) meeting to be held on Gotland after Sweden joins. The NAC is the principal decision-making body inside NATO. The secretary general chairs its meetings. A special NAC meeting on Gotland would bring immediate awareness of Baltic Sea security issues to the Alliance. Establish a NATO enhanced forward presence (EFP) battlegroup in Finland. After the 2016 NATO Summit in Warsaw, this modest US rotational presence transformed into the establishment of four EFP multinational battalions stationed in Poland and the Baltic states.20 At the 2022 NATO Summit, the alliance added EFP battlegroups to Hungary, Bulgaria, Romania, and Slovakia. When Finland joins NATO, it will be another frontline state on the eastern flank and should host an EFP battlegroup. As a confidence-building measure, NATO should ask Turkey to participate. - Lead efforts to establish a Baltic Sea Air Defense mission. While the Baltic Air Policing has been useful for policing the region’s airspace, more needs to be done. With Sweden and Finland inside NATO, and with Russia’s increased aggression, a robust and expanded Baltic Sea Air Defense mission is needed. Air policing alone is no longer enough. - Encourage the European Centre of Excellence for Countering Hybrid Threats in Finland to receive NATO accreditation. Founded in 2017 to establish best practices for countering hybrid threats, the European Centre of Excellence for Countering Hybrid Threats already cooperates closely with NATO. The alliance should move to accredit the center to formally bring it into the existing family of NATO’s 28 accredited centers of excellence. This would be a quick and easy way to “fly the NATO flag” in Finland after it joins. - Establish a permanent military presence in the Baltic states. The deployment of the rotational EFP battlegroups to the region is a good start, but NATO ought to do more. The threat from Russia will remain for the foreseeable future. NATO needs to show an enduring commitment to the region by permanently stationing armed forces in each of the three Baltic states. - Factor Kaliningrad into NATO’s Baltic Sea region contingency planning. The US needs to work with its NATO allies to develop a strategy that deals with the Russian A2/AD capabilities in Kaliningrad in the event of an armed conflict. In particular, this effort requires close cooperation and planning with Poland. NATO cannot carry out any credible defense of the Baltic Sea region without neutralizing the threat from Kaliningrad. - Increase the maritime presence in the Baltic Sea. In recent months the US has increased its maritime presence in the Baltic Sea, but it can do more. Under the authority granted in the 1936 Montreux Convention, Turkey has blocked all warships from entering the Black Sea through the Turkish Straits while fighting continues in Ukraine. Last year, the US Navy spent a total of 111 days in the Black Sea.21 While the Montreux Convention restrictions are in place, the US and its allies should divert maritime assets that would have normally been deployed to the Black Sea to the Baltic Sea. - Establish a US Marine Corps Baltic Sea Rotational Force. Until Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the US Marine Corps operated a Black Sea Rotational Force that consists of a special-purpose Marine air-ground task force (SPMAGTF). Now that the Black Sea Rotational Force cannot operate in the Black Sea due to the Montreux Convention restrictions, the US should consider establishing a similar task force for the Baltic Sea region. Such a task force would offer more joint military training opportunities for allies in the Baltic Sea region. - Make large-scale reinforcement exercises to the Baltic Sea region the norm. The US and Canada need to have the ability to reinforce Europe quickly. Countries in Western and Southern Europe should also be able to deploy forces quickly to Eastern and Northern Europe. For example, the straight-line distance from Portugal to northern Finland is more than 2,500 miles. Transporting forces over this distance quickly is no easy feat. During the Cold War, the US conducted an annual military exercise called Operation Reforger (Return of Forces to Germany). NATO should consider holding regular exercises focused on defending and reinforcing the Baltic Sea region. - Consider Belarus’s role in regional security. Since fraudulent elections in August 2020 kept him in power, the de facto leader of Belarus, President Aleksandr Lukashenko, has never been closer to the Kremlin. Belarus played an important role in enabling Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, and Russian units that invaded from Belarus committed many of the worst atrocities against Ukrainian civilians. In the event of a Russian military intervention against a NATO member, the US should make it clear that it would not turn a blind eye to any Belarussian support provided to Russia. NATO should develop military plans accordingly, especially regarding the expected role of the Belarusian city of Grodno, located near the Suwalki Gap, in the event of a conflict in the Baltic states. - Leverage the US–UK Special Relationship in the Baltic Sea Region. The US and the UK are more effective actors in transatlantic security when they work together. For historical reasons, the UK has very close relations with the Baltic states, especially with Estonia and Latvia. Through its participation in the Northern Group, the UK also has an enhanced security presence in the Baltic Sea region due to the Joint Expeditionary Force.22 The US should work with the UK to identify areas of deeper defense and security cooperation in the Baltic Sea region. Conclusion The addition of Sweden and Finland to NATO will bolster transatlantic security by adding two members who have the political will and the military capabilities to contribute to the security and stability of the Baltic Sea region. Their membership in NATO will deter Russia and diminish the likelihood of future conflict in the Baltic Sea region. However, as Russia’s February 2022 invasion of Ukraine demonstrates, no potential action by Moscow can be ruled out. Defending the Baltic states and deterring Russian aggression will be far easier and cheaper than liberating them. With Sweden and Finland in NATO, the defense of the Baltic states and security in the wider Baltic Sea region will be greatly improved. However, the alliance cannot dither or become complacent. NATO’s contingency plans need to continuously evolve as the security situation changes or as new members join the alliance. The time to get NATO’s plans in order for the Baltic region is now.

Defense & Security
Flags of Turkey and Syria painted on two clenched cross-fists on black background / tense relationship between Turkey and Syria concept

War or Peace? Turkish Moves in Syria

by Gallia Lindenstrauss , Carmit Valensi

With the outbreak of the civil war in Syria, the close ties between President Assad and his Turkish counterpart, Erdogan, were severed. Recently, more than a decade later, there have been increasing statements on reconciliation coming from Ankara – albeit coinciding with threats of a new military campaign. The Turkish President must thus choose – normalization or escalation. Recent increased attacks on Kurdish targets in northern Syria by Turkey and the Syrian rebel groups its supports raise the question whether Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdogan intends to carry out his threat of May 2022 to begin another major ground operation against the Kurds. On the other hand, conciliatory statements regarding the Assad regime have been sounded recently in Turkey, and there has been discussion of the possibility of normalizing relations between the two countries after over a decade of hostility and competition. These two processes appear to be contradictory, given that the Syrian regime opposes existing Turkish control of Syrian territories, and does not wish to see this control broadened. On the other hand, this may be a calculated Turkish move that aims to show the Turkish public a concerted multi-faceted effort to confront both the Kurdish underground and the issue of Syrian refugees in Turkey. Discussion of events in northern Syria and the web of Syrian and Turkish interests can be used to assess the question, which trend will prevail in Turkish-Syrian relations: normalization or escalation? In mid-August 2022 widescale protests erupted in dozens of towns controlled by the Syrian opposition in the Idlib and Aleppo provinces in northwest Syria. The demonstrations featured the slogan of “We won’t reconcile,” in response to the surprising statement by the Turkish Foreign Minister on August 11: “We need to bring the opposition and regime together for reconciliation somehow, or there will be no permanent peace otherwise.” The Foreign Minister also announced that he had met his Syrian counterpart on the sidelines of the Non-Aligned Movement summit in Belgrade in October 2021. Residents of the north were outraged at the statement, criticized Turkey harshly, and accused it of seeking “public normalization” with the Syrian regime. Indeed, on August 19 Erdogan even stated that “Turkey will need to take ‘higher steps’ with Damascus to end the ‘games’ being played in the region.” The antagonism generated by the Turkish statements should be seen in light of the history of Turkish involvement in Syria. A few months after the outbreak of the civil war in Syria in 2011, when it became clear that Syrian President Bashar al-Assad did not intend to implement significant reforms, Turkey became one of the harshest critics of his regime. More than once Erdogan called him a murderer and called on him to resign. From the perspective of the rebels in Syria, peace between Turkey and Syria is tantamount to betrayal. Over the years, Turkey has supported and assisted various Sunni opposition organizations with funding, logistics, and arms. At the same time, Ankara viewed with concern the strengthening of the Kurds and the expansion of the territory run by them in northern Syria, resulting in part from their persistent and successful campaign against ISIS. Ankara was especially unhappy with the dominance of the Syrian branch of the Kurdish underground in the area, and feared the creation of contiguous Kurdish control along the Turkish-Syrian border. To forestall this situation, Turkey embarked on three military operations in 2016-2019, which led to Turkish control of several areas in northern Syria. In February 2020, in the wake of attacks by Syrian forces on Turkish army positions in which 34 Turkish soldiers were killed, Ankara embarked on Operation Spring Shield in the Idlib enclave. In March, a ceasefire agreement was signed between Turkey and Russia in Idlib; the agreement included the creation of a secure corridor around the M4 highway, and joint patrols by Russian and Turkish forces. Some 8,000 soldiers from the Turkish military remain in the region and lend military and logistical backing to the organizations operating there, primarily the Syrian National Army (formerly the Free Syrian Army) and the Salafi jihadist organization Hay'at Tahrir al-Sham. The presence of Syrian refugees in Turkey is a highly-charged issue, both politically and economically. A significant majority of Turks do not want Syrian refugees to remain in the country, and this occasionally leads to acts of violence against refugees and expressions of racism. Today 3.7 million Syrian refugees who arrived in the wake of the civil war live in Turkey; most live outside refugee camps. As of March 2022, according to the Turkish Interior Minister, Turkey granted citizenship to 200,000 Syrians who entered its territory, while some 500,000 Syrians “voluntarily returned” to Turkey’s controlled territories in northern Syria. In May 2022 Erdogan declared that the Turkish government was formulating plans to resettle approximately one million Syrian refugees in Syrian territory. Turkey is interested in aid from external parties to help fund the building of residential complexes for refugees, and claims that areas under its control in northern Syria are safe enough for them. Over the last few years processes of Turkification have been underway in these territories, and Turkish influence and presence in the Idlib enclave has also expanded. Turkey invested in improved transportation links to the border crossings between the two countries and connected some of the electrical grids in northern Syria to the Turkish grid; Turkish cellular providers operate in these areas; Turkey set up more than ten Turkish postal offices in northern Syria; it pays public employees in the regions under its control in Turkish currency; and the Turkish lira is the primary currency in northern Syria. The Turkish language is taught in schools in these regions and cultural centers for teaching the Turkish language to adults were also opened. Clerics assigned by the Turkish Directorate of Religious Affairs, the Diyanet, are stationed in mosques that Turkey opened or refurbished. In Idlib, Turkish influence is more limited than in regions under Turkish control in the north, but it is increasing there as well. In addition to military and logistical support for rebel groups, Turkey’s penetration of everyday life is apparent. For example, since 2018, Turkey began to play a more prominent role in the local economy and use of the Turkish lira became common. Turkey offered jobs and led development projects for rebuilding infrastructure, including dams, electric facilities, and roads. Over the past year Turkey has worked on building residential complexes for displaced people living in temporary camps in Idlib. Non-governmental Turkish organizations are also working on development in the province, including projects in housing, energy, culture, and finance. Normalizing Relations: Interests and Obstacles Turkey’s recent conciliatory tone and references to normalizing relations with Syria, while representing a 180-degree turn for Turkish foreign policy, may serve Erdogan in two main ways. First, they are perceived as active steps in managing the refugee problem and a first stage in sending refugees back to Syria. In addition, dialogue with Assad is seen as necessary in light of Russian pressure in this context, as expressed in recent meetings between Erdogan and Russian President Vladimir Putin, as part of broad negotiations between Ankara and Moscow. In light of the pattern of Turkification, it seems that the likelihood of Ankara withdrawing from the Syrian territories is low. At the same time Russian, Iranian, and American opposition to another Turkish broad-scale ground operation in Syria, as well as growing connections between the Kurds and the Assad regime in order to prevent such an operation, make it difficult for Turkey launch an operation on the scale that it would prefer. On the other hand, a limited military operation will only result in a slight boost to Erdogan’s popularity in Turkish public opinion. In parallel, over the past two years the Syrian regime has sought to rebuild its regional status and return to the heart of the Arab world. In this context, Syria normalized its relations with the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Jordan, and Egypt. Recent calls have also been heard to readmit Syria into the Arab League, from which it was expelled early in the civil war. Normalizing relations with Turkey may be part of this trend, and no less important, may lead to cessation or reduction of Turkish support for rebels and thus allow Assad to deal a crushing blow to the remaining opposition to his regime. However, reconciliation between the Assad regime and Ankara may be perceived as relinquishing Syrian territory and legitimizing Turkey’s presence there; Assad would like to regain sovereignty in all Syrian territory. The Syrian Foreign Minister declared that the country has not set preconditions, but normalization with Turkey will be achieved only when Ankara meets three demands: withdrawal from Syrian territory; an end to support for opposition organizations; and non-intervention in internal Syrian affairs. An additional impediment is the need to formulate an “Adana II Agreement.” In 1998, after Syria expelled the Kurdish underground leader from its territory, Syria and Turkey signed the Adana Agreement stating that Syria would declare the Kurdish underground a terror organization and not allow it to operate on Syrian territory. Annex IV of the agreement even stipulates that if Syria does not fulfill its commitments, Turkey may enter up to five kilometers into Syrian territory to operate against Kurdish underground activists. In order to rebuild the trust between the two states now, there must be either a new agreement between them, or at least a clarification that Syria remains committed to the Adana Agreement. It is doubtful, however, whether the Assad regime will be committed to this goal and whether it will be able to provide the security assurances demanded by Ankara. For the Syrian rebels in the north, Ankara’s reversal is a major blow to their standing, given that they had seen Turkey as a major ally and source of military and logistical support. In practice the Turkish presence is the major obstacle to attempts by the regime, with Russian and Iranian backing, to renew its control of the Idlib province. The population of the region has not given up on the values of the Syrian revolution and its principal aim of bringing down the Assad regime. Residents of northwestern Syria also fear that a political process will be imposed on them that does not address their needs. But the rebels do not have the means to convince Turkey not to change its policy, other than presenting scenarios of chaos in the event of an escalation in Idlib and the arrival of another million refugees to Turkish soil. In conclusion, the path to normalization between Turkey and Syria will not be smooth, but Erdogan and Assad may both gain from initial steps in this direction. Erdogan can present even a limited compromise, while taking strong military steps against the Kurdish underground in northern Iraq and northern Syria, as a signal to the Turkish public that he is doing what is necessary to deal with both Kurdish terror and the refugee problem. On the Syrian side, Assad can gain from normalization with Turkey as part of his efforts to reestablish Syria’s regional status, and as a means of distancing Turkey from the rebel organizations and neutralizing the most significant remaining pocket of resistance in the country.

Defense & Security
Sukhbaatar, the parliament building of the government of Mongolia in Ulan Bator

Renewed Geopolitical Rivalries: Challenges and Options for Mongolia

by Mendee Jargalsaikhan

IntroductionDuring a break in the COVID-19 pandemic, the foreign ministers of China, Russia, Japan and the United States boosted Mongolia into international headlines. Returning from the Shanghai Cooperation Organization meeting in Moscow, for instance, Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi stopped in Ulaanbaatar (15–16 September) with a message: Do not take sides with China’s competitors if Mongolia wants to rely on the Chinese economic powerhouse. Within the week, Mongolian Foreign Minister Enkhtaivan Nyamtseren was invited by Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov to meet on short notice. Even though the ministers jointly announced the finalization of a treaty on the permanent comprehensive strategic partnership, the Kremlin showed its will to lead trilateral economic projects (such as a gas pipeline) with China and impose the Eurasian Economic Union agenda on Mongolia. Then on 29 September, the United States Secretary of State Michael Pompeo announced the inclusion of Mongolia in his trip to visit allies in East Asia—Japan and the Republic of Korea.2 Although the trip was ultimately cancelled due to an outbreak of COVID-19 cases among White House officials, Pompeo talked by telephone with President Battulga Khaltmaa and highlighted their shared commitment to democracy and regional security. A few days later, Japanese Foreign Minister Toshimitsu Motegi, considered a key insider of then Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s geopolitics, flew to Ulaanbaatar. In addition to updating the strategic partnership plan until 2022, the Japanese Foreign Minister’s interests centred on Mongolia’s inclusion in the Free and Open Indo-Pacific strategy. Mongolia has declared strategic partnerships with each of these great powers and is thus entering a complicated geopolitical setting. It is not entirely new. A similar scene occurred in the summer of 1991. Chinese President Yang Shangkun, Japanese Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu and the United States Secretary of State James Baker each visited Mongolia within a month’s time. China wanted agreement to non-interference in its internal affairs, whereas Japan and the United States imposed non-reversal conditionality on Mongolia’s democratic transition to receive much-needed economic assistance. The primary difference then was the absence of Russia. This policy paper discusses the renewed geopolitical rivalries of the great powers, explains Mongolia’s challenges to manoeuvring in this tough geopolitical terrain and then proposes pursuit of a pragmatic, neutral foreign policy option similar to Finland’s strategic concessions to its neighbouring great power, the Soviet Union.Renewed geopolitical rivalriesThe great power competition also is nothing new. Even after the Cold War, China, Japan, Russia and the United States were watching each other suspiciously while avoiding unnecessary tension. In the 1990s, policymakers and academics in Japan, Russia, and the United States debated over the China threat and the consequences of China’s economic rise. Russian leaders, such as Foreign Minister and later Prime Minister Yevgeny Primakov and President Vladimir Putin, sought ways to balance with the United States and to integrate into the European economic and security framework. It was not a surprise when Putin hinted at Russia’s inclusion in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) because the country was already supporting American military operations in Afghanistan. Similarly, in 2000, the United States Congress mandated its Defense Department to report annually on China’s security strategy and military development. China and Japan had similar outlooks. China was wary of the United States, whereas Japan remained vigilant of both China and Russia. In the mid-2000s, all these countries reassessed their long-term geopolitical and economic objectives as the geopolitical setting began to shift. With similar geopolitical concerns about American strategies, China and Russia advanced their partnership by conducting an annual joint military exercise (Peace Mission, beginning in 2005) and even demanded the withdrawal of American forces from Central Asia. When the United States proposed another round of NATO’s expansion into Ukraine and Georgia and new missile defence systems in the Czech Republic and Poland, Russia quickly reacted. This resulted in a brief military conflict with Georgia in 2008. Following the breakdown with Europe, Russia began pursuing policies to reassert its influence in former Soviet republics through the Eurasian Economic Union as well as the Collective Security Treaty Organization. China and Russia jointly strengthened the Shanghai Cooperation Organization and created a new bloc with Brazil, Russia, India and South Africa (BRICS) for collaborating on major geopolitical issues. From 2012, the great power rivalries intensified. Chinese President Xi Jinping renounced the “hide and bide” principle of Deng Xiaoping by pledging that China would take an active role in global politics. A year later, China unveiled a new grand strategy, known as the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), to invest in infrastructure that increases global connectivity. Chinese leaders explained that the BRI is a “win–win” developmental initiative. The ambitions and ambiguity of the BRI, however, immediately raised geopolitical concern from all the great powers, as if China was about to reshape the global and regional order for its geopolitical advantage. For example, building on its earlier strategy (Pivot to East Asia), the United States launched a series of measures to contain China. It endorsed Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s quadrilateral security dialogue (for the alliance of Japan, India, Australia and the United States) and strengthened ties with India, Myanmar, Singapore and Vietnam, all of whom are cautious of China’s economic and military powers. Meanwhile, in 2014, Russia annexed Crimea and intervened in Eastern Ukraine, based on its geopolitical concerns for Ukraine’s potential membership in NATO. Then, in 2015, Russia deployed its military to Syria to check the United States’ interventions while declaring its strategic partnership with China. In response, the United States cited China and Russia as the biggest threats in its National Defense Strategy (2018), which is the country’s long-term strategic defense document.6 The American Defense Department released its Indo–Pacific Strategy Report, and the State Department defined its Free and Open Indo–Pacific vision. Both documents prioritized containing China’s growing economic and military power in the Indo–Pacific region. In addition to sanctions against China and Russia, the United States pressured its allies to ban Chinese telecommunication companies from participating in the development of the 5G network. In contrast, Russia welcomed the Chinese telecommunication giant—Huawei—to develop its 5G network and pledged to develop Chinese missile defence capabilities. This new round of great power rivalries is changing the geopolitical setting for a small State like Mongolia.Challenges for MongoliaThe primary challenge for Mongolia is to maintain its sovereignty. For centuries, geography has dictated the country’s fate as a classic buffer State between two expansionist and rival great powers—China and Russia. While serving the Kremlin’s geopolitical interests from 1921 to 1986, Mongolia gained United Nations membership and its independence from China. During this period, Mongolia remained under close control of the Kremlin and became a militarized buffer State whenever Russian geopolitical interests were threatened. The Kremlin deployed its military three times: in 1921, 1936 and 1960. Following the Sino– Soviet rapprochement and the collapse of the Soviet Union, Mongolia normalized its relations with China and developed new ties with the United States and its allies. In the 1990s, Mongolia did not experience any geopolitical pressure from the great powers and firmly declared a series of neutrality policies. At the time, Mongolia’s two neighbours were preoccupied with maintaining their domestic matters and also coping with security concerns elsewhere. The United States and Japan focused on Mongolia’s political and economic transition while explicitly avoiding developing security ties. In that period, Mongolia adopted a series of neutrality policies: the constitutional prohibition on foreign military transition and basing, a non-aligned foreign policy stance, declaration of a nuclear weapon-free zone and bilateral treaties with all the great powers, with a “against no third party” principle. In this favourable geopolitical context, Mongolia increased Its engagement with international and regional organizations and sought ways to attract the interests of so-called “third neighbours”. The most important endeavour was its military deployment in support of American operations in Iraq, when China and Russia were strongly opposing the United States war in Iraq. Then, Mongolia deployed its military to Kosovo and Afghanistan. This military contribution resulted in close political and defence ties with the United States and NATO members as of 2003. The other endeavour was the conclusion of an investment agreement with Anglo–Australian mining giant Rio Tinto and Canadian Ivanhoe Mines to develop the Oyu Tolgoi copper and gold deposit. These endeavours triggered reactions from China and Russia. China’s security experts cautioned Mongolia’s inclusion in the American “strategic encirclement” of China, whereas Russia was wary of losing its geopolitical privileges in Mongolia to NATO members. China and Russia jointly pressured Mongolia to join the Shanghai Cooperation Organization. As a result, Mongolia became an observer in 2005. Since then, Russia has taken assertive action to secure its geopolitical and geo-economic interests in critical areas such as railway construction, the energy sector and uranium mining. To be clear, neither China nor Russia attempted in this period to influence Mongolia’s domestic politics, especially its elections. Now all these great powers want to include Mongolia in their competing geopolitical visions. China declared a comprehensive strategic partnership in 2014 and included Mongolia as one of six economic corridors of the BRI. Beijing leaders hope that Mongolia will join the Shanghai Cooperation Organization to fulfil its regionalization strategy of Central Asia. They also want Mongolia to commit to non-intervention in its internal affairs, especially in matters related to Tibet, Xinjiang, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Inner Mongolia, in return for economic assistance and market access. In 2019, Russia quickly upgraded its strategic partnership with conclusion of a permanent treaty, which imposed Mongolia’s adherence to the Russian geopolitical agenda. Specifically, the treaty prioritizes bilateral consultations, renews defence technical cooperation and requires Mongolia’s adherence to the 1,520 mm (Russian standard railway gauge) for the railway extension. As hinted by some Russian officials, the Kremlin even dreams of Mongolia’s inclusion in the Eurasian Economic Union and the Collective Security Treaty Organization, considering how Mongolia is traditionally wary of Chinese expansion. The United States and Japan have included Mongolia in their Free and Open Indo–Pacific strategy because Mongolia shares similar values (democracy, human rights) and security concerns regarding China and Russia. Interestingly, the American Pentagon’s Indo–Pacific Strategy (June 2019) identified Mongolia as a “reliable, capable and natural partner of the United States,” while designating Mongolia’s two neighbours as the biggest security threats: China as a revisionist power and Russia a revitalized Malign Actor. The American State Department’s Free and Open Indo–Pacific visionary document highlights Mongolia as one of the beneficiaries and supporters of its strategy. Japan also included Mongolia in its Partnership for Quality Infrastructure (PQI), a developmental assistance alternative to China’s BRI, and designated a new international airport and railway flyover (Sun Bridge) in Ulaanbaatar as PQI projects. Like many small States, Mongolia’s challenge is determining how to manoeuvre in this round of great power competitions without compromising its sovereignty and undermining its institutions of democratic governance.Options for MongoliaIdeally, the best option for Mongolia is to maintain friendly ties with all the great powers and to benefit economically as it sits at the merging point of different geopolitical strategies. In fact, this has been the case to a certain degree. Mongolia’s nuclear weapon-free zone status has been endorsed by all permanent members of the United Nations Security Council. The country’s peacekeeping efforts, whether military deployments or hosting training events, have been supported by all the involved great powers. Both China and Japan have aided in road development, such as with the Chinese-built Moon Bridge (BRI funding) and the Japanese Sun Bridge (PQI project) in the capital city. At the moment, China and the United States are assisting to improve the capital city’s water supply and infrastructure. Hopefully, China and Russia will construct a natural gas pipeline through Mongolia, which would increase trilateral economic cooperation. Current trends, however, force a consideration of the likelihood of consequences in the worst- and best-case scenarios. The most likely worst-case scenario has China alone or together with Russia entering into conflict with the United States. This circumstance would force Mongolia to limit its relations with the United States and even to stand with its neighbours against the United States and its allies. The other worst-case scenario, which is less likely at the moment, is the emergence of Sino–Russian geopolitical tension. This would create the direst situation, in which Mongolia could easily fall into the control of either neighbour or become a battleground. The best-case scenarios are also possible and would create a favourable overarching setting for Mongolia to manoeuvre and maintain its sovereignty. The best-case scenarios have all the great powers seeking strategic stability because they are intertwined with domestic challenges or geopolitically distracted elsewhere. In all these scenarios, the primary objective for Mongolian leaders would remain the same—to maintain sovereignty and independence. However, Mongolia’s options to maintain its sovereignty are limited. First, it is a regionless country. Therefore, it cannot rely on any regional security alliance, such as NATO or the Collective Security Treaty Organization. The only close alliance is the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, but Mongolia is wary of jeopardizing its sovereignty if it joins. Second, it is impossible for leaders in Ulaanbaatar to gain security guarantees from one or several of the great powers, with the possible exception of Russia. Leaders in Washington and Tokyo are not likely to make any such deal as with the Philippines or Taiwan. Mongolia is too cautious of losing its sovereignty to Russia and provoking China by renewing the mutual defence clause with Russia. Lastly, Mongolia is too economically poor to build its defence capabilities in a way that is similar to Singapore, Switzerland and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Therefore, the most suitable option would be to make strategic concessions to the great powers following the example of the Finnish experience during the Cold War. This option requires that Mongolia avoid joining in the security alliance of any great power, just as Finland avoided joining NATO and the Warsaw Pact. In this sense, Mongolia should not attempt to upgrade its current level of confidence-building security defence relations with members of NATO, the Collective Security Treaty Organization and, potentially, the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (if it turns into a regional security organization). In regard to the Free and Open Indo– Pacific, Mongolia should limit its security cooperation to specific areas: peacekeeping, humanitarian assistance, disaster relief and defence diplomacy. This type of neutrality policy would also require Mongolia to abstain from taking any stance on controversial matters related to its neighbours and their geopolitical competitors. Such avoidance would help Mongolia to promote itself as a neutral place for all great powers to negotiate, such as the Finnish model of the Helsinki process. At the same time, Mongolia should strengthen its democratic governance: the parliamentary system, civil society and the rule of law. Democratic governance would distinguish Mongolia’s identity within the authoritarian great powers and ensure self-rule free from those great powers. One of the downsides of this type of neutral, pragmatic strategy, however, is its limit on participation in foreign policy decision-making processes. This requires that only professional diplomats handle foreign policy matters while encouraging informed public discourse. In return for this neutral policy, Mongolia would expect the great powers to respect its sovereignty and restrain any actions to influence its policies.ConclusionWhen the foreign ministers of the great powers gave some attention to Mongolia in the fall of 2020, Mongolia reacted with proactive diplomacy amid the pandemic. On 29 February, Mongolian President Battulga became the first foreign dignitary to visit China during the pandemic and extended a gift of 30,000 sheep as a goodwill gesture. On 21 June, the Mongolian airline, MIAT, conducted a long-awaited flight to North America and delivered more than US$1 million worth of assistance and 60,000 personal protective equipment to the United States. On June 24th, despite Russia having the second highest number of coronavirus cases, the Mongolian military marched in the Victory Day Parade, marking the 75th anniversary of the Soviet victory in the Second World War, in which Mongolia stood as a close ally. As with the proactive diplomacy, the renewed geopolitical tensions among the great powers will require unity, patience and deft diplomacy from Mongolian leaders to steer through the rough sea.

Defense & Security
Faded US (United States) VS Russia VS EU (European Union) flags isolated on cracked wall background, abstract USA Russia Europe politics partnership relationship conflicts concept

Europe must not be divided

by Petro Burkovskiy

As Russian troops withdraw from occupied Ukrainian villages and towns in the Kherson and Kharkiv regions, the military, forensic experts, and the world media are being shown the extent of Russian war crimes. In the 21st century, the Kyiv suburb of Butscha takes on a creepy meaning that was set for Auschwitz in the 20th century. Since April 2022, "Butscha" has not only become synonymous with the planned systematic extermination of people because of their membership in the Ukrainian community, but has also served to expose the cynicism of European elites who, over the past two decades, have turned a blind eye to the nature of the Russian regime and the practices of modern Russian statehood. Bluff about "civilized country" and "threat from the West" In February 2007, before the expiration of the second (as it turned out, not the last, although the Constitution of the Russian Federation did not provide for this) presidential term, Vladimir Putin sharply criticized the unilateral power politics of the United States at the Munich Security Conference. He said that the use of force in international relations is possible only on the basis of the UN Charter. He insisted that energy sources must not be used as weapons or means of extortion against consumers. He promised to create a free and open market economy in Russia, primarily with the help of Germany. At the same time, Putin denied that the opposition in Russia is brutally repressed; he did not admit that the rights of people in Chechnya are systematically violated through torture, murder, and kidnapping; he denied involvement in the transfer of missile technology to Iran and support for its nuclear program. All of this gave the impression that Russia's leadership wants to build an open and democratic country that pursues responsible and predictable policies and is ready for profitable, multi-billion dollar economic cooperation with its European neighbors. In return, Putin wanted "very little." First, the transformation of NATO from a defense alliance into a political organization in which European countries would conduct their policies independently of the United States. This is because, according to Putin, it is the United States that, by stationing its troops on the territory of countries that became NATO members after 1991, is fomenting a threat to Russian sovereignty and tensions throughout Europe. Second, Putin did not want European states to make the development of relations with Russia dependent on their assessment of the democratic or authoritarian character of the Russian regime. His assistant Vladislav Surkov even invented a special term - "sovereign democracy" - to justify Putin's authoritarianism and seduce Europeans with the prospect of Russia's slow democratic "evolution". Respect, equal treatment and security: demands of an autocrat In short, Putin demanded respect, equal treatment, and security. Aren't these the same principles on which NATO and the EU are based! By successfully manipulating these values and profitable economic deals, Putin achieved his goals. By February 24, 2022, many European politicians either shared the opinion that Russia was trustworthy because it was developing and liberalizing economically. Or they argued that Russia had a reason for threats and a show of force to protect its borders from NATO expansion. Putin forced European governments to turn a blind eye to the murder of tens of thousands of Chechens in 1994-2007. He managed to avoid condemnation and punishment for open aggression against Georgia in 2008. Even in 2014, he managed to get France and Germany to recognize his role as a "peacemaker" in the self-created "Ukraine crisis" and the hybrid war in the Donbass. In fact, the facts indicated that Russia began to move toward autocracy when Putin came to power. However, it was not even a party autocracy as in China, which provided for internal competition and relied on an extensive network of technocratic managers who adopted Western standards in this way or another. Putin, as president, began to restore the vertical of the KGB - the Soviet secret police and intelligence service that throughout its history viewed the democratic world as an existential enemy and a target for destruction. As a KGB apprentice, he naturally wanted revenge for the collapse of the USSR, which he considered his defeat. When Putin promised to build democracy and a market economy in Russia, he was bluffing. His calculation was based on the idea of the instability and corruption of the European political and business elites, who, for the sake of high and stable profits, will be willing to justify the "excesses" of the authorities and the "weakness" of Russian civil society. Neglecting his country for a perfidious vision When Putin pointed to the threat posed by NATO, he sought only a justification at home for constantly increasing spending on the army and defense industry, while neglecting the modernization of social and transport infrastructure in most regions of Russia. In foreign relations, Putin rewarded leaders and governments that were slow to implement common goals within NATO or promoted their national interests as opposed to pan-European or U.S. interests. This may explain how politicians as diverse as Silvio Berlusconi, Nicolas Sarkozy, Gerhard Schröder, Robert Fico, and Viktor Orbán managed to build long-term alliance relationships with the Kremlin. Despite the shock over Russia's lies and crimes that accompanied the aggression against Ukraine, Putin continues to actively use the old bluff about "normal Russia" and threatens retaliation for violation of "Russian security," which means control over Ukrainian territories. Putin's bluff is his declaration of occupied Ukrainian territories as Russian and the corresponding threat to defend them with nuclear weapons. Russian troops are fleeing the Kherson and Donbass regions with no sign of preparation to use weapons of mass destruction. Likewise, if Putin has to choose between withdrawing from Crimea and risking losing everything in a nuclear confrontation, he will choose to withdraw and retain his power. This is because Crimea is the same "integral part" of Russia as Kherson and Kharkiv oblast, from which the Russians are withdrawing as a result of military defeats. Putin, however, could be heading down a dangerous path of escalation if voices continue to be raised in Europe that his conquests must be recognized by the conclusion of a cease-fire. The Kremlin's calls for a willingness to negotiate are aimed at spreading uncertainty among European leaders about Russia's goals. This maneuver is being carried out to force everyone to suddenly turn a blind eye to mass executions, torture camps, and the bombing of peaceful Ukrainian cities in order to sow doubt that Russia is waging a war aimed at destroying an entire European nation. Putin again offers to believe that secure relations with the Russia he leads are possible if his demands are heeded. If the debate in Europe is resumed according to the logic imposed by Putin, he will use all means of terror to divide the continent and within individual states into the camps of "uncompromising" and "moderate". And without solidarity in Europe, it will be much easier for Russia to continue the war with impunity and ruthlessness. Even far beyond Ukraine. Russia hybrid means to divide Europe.At stake is trade in oil, coal, and natural gas. Since early 2021, Russia's Gazprom refused to supply gas to Europe beyond contracted volumes, artificially contributing to stock market speculation and price increases. This had a painful impact on household spending on municipal services. It also led to higher consumer prices due to more expensive electricity generated by burning Russian gas and fuel oil. Against a backdrop of public discontent, Russian intelligence services mobilized the Russian diaspora into spectacular protests in Germany and the Czech Republic and put forward the thesis of the "harmfulness" of anti-Russian EU sanctions. And such actions have a political impact. In France, Marine Le Pen actively criticized the renunciation of Russian energy sources and promised to maintain the purchase of oil from Russia if elected. In Italy, the "Lega" and "Forza Italia!" parties, which became part of the governing coalition, also opposed sanctions that hurt Italian industry. In Germany, the opposition parties "Alternative for Germany" and "The Left" expressed even more open theses about the need for "understanding" with Russia, for the sake of energy sources. The Kremlin is watching such processes closely, and they convince it that such a policy of division will bring the desired results. Russian efforts will be especially dangerous this winter. The ideology of the "Russian world" and the myth of the "Great Victory".Every year since the attack on Ukraine in 2014, the Russian president has justified his aggressive policy of conquest on the basis of Russia's special historical mission. It consists in restoring historical justice - the borders of the Russian state, which should unite all bearers of "traditional Russian values." These are the Russian language, the Orthodox faith, education in the traditions of Russian culture and literature. The Kremlin calls this bizarre combination the ideology of the "Russian world." Considering the fact that the Russian diaspora is currently manifesting itself very actively throughout Europe, from Italy and Germany to Latvia and Finland, this creates, in the view of the Russian leadership, a sufficient legitimate reason to spread measures of direct and hybrid aggression against new countries. And Putin constantly talks about the inevitability of a "multipolar world" in which Russia will be one of the "poles". While the fate of Europe, in his opinion, will be ruined by excessive American influence. That is why he often refers to the Yalta Conference in 1945, which made Stalin's Russia the owner of half of the European continent, while the other half was controlled by the Allies led by the United States. In relations with Europe, Putin wants to see himself not only as a "veto player," the leader of a "great power" that belongs to a narrow circle of its peers (the United States and the PRC) that have a decisive influence on world politics, but as a hegemon. As the ruler of a victorious state to which the others are grateful for their security and existence. Therefore, despite the defeats in Ukraine, he continues to say, "We haven't really started it yet." Obviously, Hitler and Stalin could have said the same thing when they invaded and divided Poland in September 1939 and prepared for new conflicts. So far, this history has a slim chance of repeating itself.