Subscribe to our weekly newsletters for free

Subscribe to an email

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

Defense & Security
Aleksandr Lukashenko with Vladimir Putin

Ukraine war: Russia’s threat to station nuclear warheads in Belarus – what you need to know

by Natalya Chernyshova

The threat of Russia using nuclear weapons in Ukraine is “real” and “absolutely irresponsible”, according to the US president, Joe Biden. He was reacting to questioning from journalists as to whether he believed Belarus had been taking delivery of Russian tactical nuclear weapons. If true, it’s the first time Russia has deployed nuclear warheads outside its borders since the end of the cold war. This does not immediately mean a nuclear escalation with Nato, since Russian nuclear missiles stationed in the Kaliningrad region already put Poland and the Baltic states within range. Experts are sceptical about Russia’s intentions to use these weapons in Ukraine. But the presence of tactical nuclear arms in Belarus has, nevertheless, important implications for European security. It would change the nature of the relationship between Russia and Belarus and bring Belarus deeper under Russian control. The two countries are already in what is known as a “union state” after longtime Belarus leader Alexander Lukashenko and Boris Yeltsin signed a series of treaties in the mid-1990s. These made for “deeper economic integration” and the “formation of a single economic space” as well as the coordination of foreign policy and military activities between the two countries. The “union” was relatively loose until the 2020 mass protests in Belarus pushed the desperate Lukashenko to agree to a much closer economic and military integration with Russia. The real target Noting that this is “not an escalation from Putin’s prior nuclear weapons rhetoric”, the Institute for the Study of War says this is more about increasing Moscow’s military grip over Belarus: “The Kremlin likely intends to use these requirements to further subordinate the Belarusian security sphere under Russia.” The warheads will be under Russian control. Storage facilities are reported to be under construction for completion in early July. This will require a significant Russian military presence and permanent military bases in Belarus. Belarusians do not want to have Russian nuclear weapons on their soil. Researchers from Chatham House who regularly conduct surveys in Belarus have found that 74% of respondents in their March 2023 survey objected to deployment. The rejection of nukes is even more dramatic when analysed by which media the respondents are consuming. Belarus state media beats a relentlessly pro-Moscow drum. Among those who do not consume state media between 97% and 98% are opposed. The prospect of Russian military bases is hardly more popular, with only 24% of respondents supporting it in an earlier Chatham House survey in June 2022. The idea of a single foreign policy and army with Russia was backed by a mere 9% in the March 2023 survey. This is yet another indicator of the chasm between the regime and the people, which was made evident by the 2020 protests, the largest in recent Belarusian history. Belarusians are traditionally wary of having to choose sides when it comes to political alliances. And, despite a “vote” ratifying an amendment to the country’s constitution to allow Russia to station nuclear weapons on its soil, the country is increasingly divided between those who look to Russia and those who are in favour of closer relations with western Europe. After Russia went into Ukraine, a Chatham House survey found that 47% were against the invasion, while only 33% were in favour. Another poll found 93% would not support Belarus entering the war. Fallout from Chornobyl And Belarusians also have a good reason to be strongly opposed to nuclear weapons. The memory of the Chornobyl disaster in 1986. About 70% of the radioactive fallout landed on its territory, and there is evidence that Moscow deliberately seeded clouds so that radioactive rain fell over Belarus rather than drift towards Moscow. The political fallout was slower but no less significant: over the years, Chornobyl commemorations have become an annual rallying point for anti-Lukashenko opposition. It also helped ensure that independent Belarus was the first among post-Soviet nations to abandon its Soviet nuclear arsenal. These points seem lost on Lukashenko, who has publicly declared that he will not consider the opinion of the Belarusian people about using nuclear weapons. Opposition opinions are dangerous in Belarus, and state terror against all criticism of the regime has only intensified since Russia invaded Ukraine. The number of those arrested and sentenced to lengthy prison terms has been steadily growing. As of June 21, Belarus had 1,492 political prisoners. This is just the tip of the iceberg of repression. Not only opposition activists, NGO workers, and independent journalists, but anyone who can be linked to the 2020 protests or who ever spoke out against the regime on social media is at risk of arrest. The recent UN Human Rights Office report decried “the unacceptable picture of impunity and the near-total destruction of civic space and fundamental freedoms in Belarus”, including the systematic use of unlawful detention, violence and torture. Consequences for Belarus and beyond Lukashenko is playing a dangerous game. Belarus’s economic dependence on Moscow, already heavy, has been deepened further by western sanctions and the war in Ukraine. Russia’s share in Belarus’ trade grew from 49% in 2021 to 60% in late 2022. Recently, a joint tax agreement with Russia, previously resisted by Minsk, reduced Belarusian control over taxation. According to the independent Belarusian monitoring organisation, the Hajun Project, there is no evidence that any warheads have arrived. But deploying Russian nuclear warheads would lead to Moscow’s permanent military presence. It would mean further loss of authority for Lukashenko and his generals. And worse, if Putin did decide to use tactical nuclear weapons against Ukraine, it would be an easier decision to launch them from Belarus and let them reap the whirlwind of retaliation. Consolidating his control over Belarus would be a significant strategic victory for Putin’s imperial ambitions. Preoccupied with fighting in Ukraine and lacking a clear and decisive policy on Belarus, the west has no obvious immediate response. But if Moscow follows through with its threat it would be a dangerous moment – not just for Belarus but for Europe as a whole.

Defense & Security
Undersea cables

Ukraine war: Kremlin’s threat to interfere with undersea data cables may be bluster, but must be taken seriously

by Christian Bueger

In what is more than likely to turn out to be an attempt at escalation in the confrontation between Nato and Russia over the war in Ukraine, former Russian president Dmitry Medvedev argued recently on his Telegram channel that Russia should have the right to attack submarine data cables.  Medvedev claimed such rights against the background of recent media reports on the mysterious sabotage of the Nord Stream undersea gas pipeline last year. He wrote: If we proceed from the proven complicity of western countries in blowing up the Nord Streams, then we have no constraints – even moral – left to prevent us from destroying the ocean-floor cable communications of our enemies. The question of who was behind the attacks on the pipelines in the Baltic Sea on September 26 2022, however, remains unresolved. Several reports, rumours and conspiracy theories circulate. There’s some agreement that the time, location and level of sophistication of the attack indicate the involvement or support from a government. But the speculation stretches from western special forces or Ukrainian groups being behind the attack to it being a well-orchestrated Russian operation. In the meantime, none of the official investigations have been concluded and solid evidence that could support any of the narratives remains sparse. The Swedish prosecutor leading one of the investigations announced on June 14 that he hopes to have completed the investigation by autumn. Vulnerable undersea cables For all his characteristic bluster, which have included threats involving Russia’s nuclear arsenal, Medvedev’s threat should be taken seriously. As we have shown in a report to the European parliament of last year, subsea cables are the backbone of the contemporary digital economy. Almost all of our internet connections depend on them. According to SubTelForum’s Submarine Cable Almanac as of the beginning of 2023, there were 380 cables in Europe on the ocean floor, mostly the size of a garden hose. They use fibre optic technology to convey information at large distances. Yet they are easy to cut and get damaged quite frequently. The industry reports up to 100 cable failures annually, mainly caused by fishing activities or the anchors of ships. This rarely causes serious disruptions. As already established above, there are hundreds of cables on the sea floor and in the case of failure, traffic is swiftly rerouted and a repair ship is sent on its way to fix the damage. If Russia is serious about its threats to cut cables, the main economic cost would be for repair work. Major disruptions are unlikely. There are, however, places that are more vulnerable and where the impact would be more extensive. This includes sites where several crucial cables could be attacked at the same time. These are known as “chokepoints”. For instance, several important cables surface in the port of Marseilles – and the English channel and the Red Sea have a high density of cables. Also, island states, such as Ireland, are more vulnerable because they do not have terrestrial connections as backup. So Medvedev’s threat should be taken seriously, but should not be blown out of proportion. What’s behind the threat? Once thought of as a reasonable politician, who took over as president when Putin was having his “break” from 2008 to 2012 after two terms of presidency, Medvedev has become ever more of a Kremlin stooge. His threat is a continuation of Russia’s strategy of disinformation – an attempt to distract western leaders from events in Ukraine and force security policymakers to worry about their vulnerabilities at home. Probably, this is also a message to two security events happening in the coming days and weeks and meant to increase the feeling of vulnerability and uncertainty. At the end of May, Ireland commenced a national consultative forum on security – online and on four separate days at the end of June. Ireland’s foreign minister, Micheál Martin, said the aim was to build public understanding and generate discussions on our foreign, security and defence policies. The particular focus would be on how Ireland wants to respond to the new security environment and whether to seek Nato membership. As an island with open seas, Ireland is one of the most vulnerable places in Europe in terms of potential internet cable sabotage. A bit further down the line is the Nato summit taking place in Vilnius, Lithuania, in early July. Subsea cable protection is one of the priority issues on the agenda, and the organization’s new infrastructure protection coordination cell is expected to make recommendations for how the alliance can protect cables better and deter any sabotage. But a military approach to protection on its own won’t suffice. Close collaboration between the military, civil maritime agencies, communication regulators and the industry is needed. The European Maritime Security Strategy expected to be issued by the European Council this summer will be an important step in this direction. The strategy lays out plans for risk analyses, improved surveillance and inter-agency exercises. Overall, and beyond the immediate Russian threat, the protection of critical maritime infrastructures, which also includes wind farms, power cables, hydrogen pipelines and carbon storage projects, needs to become a defining feature in the global ocean governance agenda.

Energy & Economics
Russia on World map with countries borders. Stamp Sanctions on Russian territory. Concept of Ukraine war, crisis, economic sanctions, politics, russophobia, travel

How Russia is shifting to a war economy in the face of international sanctions

by Christoph Bluth

As Russia’s progress in Ukraine has stalled, with enormous losses in material and people, the frustrated head of the Wagner mercenary force Yevgeny Prigozhin has called for Russia to shift to a total war economy: The Kremlin must declare a new wave of mobilisation to call up more fighters and declare martial law and force ‘everyone possible’ into the country’s ammunition production efforts. We must stop building new roads and infrastructure facilities and work only for the war. His words echo similar sentiments expressed by the head of Russia’s state broadcaster RT, Margarita Simonyan – an influential supporter of the Russian president, Vladimir Putin – who said recently: Our guys are risking their lives and blood every day. We’re sitting here at home. If our industry is not keeping up, let’s all get a grip! Ask anyone. Aren’t we all ready to come help for two hours after work? Already facing western sanctions since its annexation of Crimea and occupation of territory in Ukraine’s eastern provinces in 2014, Russia has had to adapt to life under an increasingly harsh series of economic punishments. And, while Putin had apparently planned for a relatively short “special military operation”, this conflict has become a protracted and expensive war of attrition. The Economist has estimated Russian military spending at 5 trillion roubles (£49 billion) a year, or 3% of its GDP, a figure the magazine describes as “a puny amount” compared to its spending in the second world war. Other estimates are higher – the German Council on Foreign Relations (GDAP) estimates US$90 billion (£72 billion), or more like 5% of GDP. But the international sanctions have hit the economy hard. They have affected access to international markets and the ability to access foreign currency and products. And the rate at which the Russian military is getting through equipment and ammunition is putting a strain on the country’s defence industry. So the Kremlin faces a choice: massively increasing its war efforts to achieve a decisive breakthrough, or continuing its war of attrition. The latter would aim to outlast Ukraine in the hope that international support may waver in the face of a global costs of living crisis. Equipment shortages Russia has lost substantial amounts of arms and ammunition. In March 2023, UK armed forces minister James Heappey estimated that Russia had lost 1,900 main battle tanks, 3,300 other armoured combat vehicles, 73 crewed, fixed wing aircraft, several hundred uncrewed aerial vehicles (UAVs) of all types, 78 helicopters, 550 tube artillery systems, 190 rocket artillery systems and eight naval vessels. Russia has to contend with several important military-industrial challenges. For one, its high technology precision-guided weapons require access to foreign technology. This is now unavailable – or restricted to sanctions-busting deals which can only supply a fraction of what is needed. Most of the high-tech electronic components used by the Russian military are manufactured by US companies. So it has to substitute these with lower-grade domestic components, which is probably why the Russian military is using its high-tech weaponry sparingly. But the artillery shells on which it has been relying are running short. US thinktank the Center for Security and International Studies has reported US intelligence estimates that since February 2022, export controls have degraded Russia’s ability to replace more than 6,000 pieces of military equipment. Sanctions have also forced key defense industrial facilities to halt production and caused shortages of critical components for tanks and aircraft, among other materiel. Make do, mend – and spend There are clear signs of increasing efforts to address the shortages. According to a report in the Economist, Dmitri Medvedev, deputy chairman of Russia’s security council, has recently announced plans for the production of 1,500 modern tanks in 2023. Russian news agency Tass reported recently Medvedev also plans to oversee a ramping up of mass production of drones. The government is reported to be providing substantial loans to arms manufacturers and even issuing orders to banks to do the same. Official statistics indicate that the production of “finished metal goods” in January and February was 20% higher compared to the previous year. The GDAP reported in February: “As of January 2023, several Russian arms plants were working in three shifts, six or seven days a week, and offering competitive salaries. Hence, they can increase production of those weapon systems that Russia is still able to manufacture despite the sanctions.” So it appears the Kremlin is playing a delicate balancing act of redirecting significant resources to the military and related industries while trying to minimise the disruption of the general economy, which would risk losing the support of large sections of the population. The International Monetary Fund has projected Russia’s economy to grow by 0.7% this year (which would trump the UK’s projected growth of 0.4%). This will largely be underpinned by export revenues for hydrocarbons as well as arms sales to various client countries happy to ignore western sanctions. Meanwhile diversifying import sources has kept stores stocked. However, Russian public opinion pollster Romir has reported that while most people aren’t worried about the absence of sanctioned goods, about half complained that the quality of substituted goods had deteriorated. So ordinary Russians – those who haven’t lost loved ones on the battlefield or to exile – remain relatively sanguine about everyday life. But a longer, more intense conflict, requiring a shift to a total war economy, could be a different matter altogether.

Defense & Security
Indian Army Tank at the Parade at the Republic Day

India and the "Russian arms question"

by Dr. Adrian Haack

Other countries see arms exports as a strategic instrument. Germany should do the same. Arms cooperation with the Soviet Union and the Russian Federation has been the country's security policy foundation since India's independence. The friendship between the two states is primarily a deep dependence of New Delhi on Moscow. A dependence from which the Indian government wants and needs to break free, as the descent of the second largest arms exporter is just shifting the strategic tectonics in large parts of the global South. Cancellations, overdue payments, and delivery problems Already last year, astonishment arose after T-90 main battle tanks were photographed in Ukraine, which, according to some journalists, were a version used only by India. At the same time, some of these models were in the custody of the Russian state-owned Uralvagonzavod for modernisation. However, the theft of the Indian battle tanks could never be proven beyond doubt. Whether New Delhi could be informed about the whereabouts of its tanks has not been made public. In a report to the Indian parliament as early as 2022, it was stated that the Russian Federation would retain weapons systems produced for India. The type and scope were not specified. In short, the Kremlin declared its own requirements. In April 2022, New Delhi cancelled an order for 48 Mi-17 helicopters, followed in May 2022 by India's unilateral suspension of negotiations for Kamov Ka-31 naval helicopters. In addition to the considerable order volume of more than USD 500 million for the order cancelled in May alone, the Russian defence industry also lost reputation, as it now became public that the most important buyer of Russian defence equipment doubted the timely implementation of the order. The most recent conflict in Russian-Indian arms cooperation was a problem triggered by the sanctions in the payment processing of air defence systems, as Russia continued to press for payments in US dollars. A proposal by the Indian government that Moscow could invest the rupees gained from arms deals in Indian capital markets was rejected by the Russian side.  In New Delhi, the displeasure was directed less against the sanctions themselves, which prevented the transaction in US dollars, but against Russia's lack of goodwill: after all, the Russian Federation had provoked the foreseeable US sanctions in the first place through its invasion and now showed no accommodation in processing the payment. The Indian government is nevertheless displeased with "the West", as its dependence on the Russian Federation is a result of its lack of access to Western weapons systems and it is now being criticised for this very dependence. This criticism of Western criticism can hardly be dismissed out of hand. Russia dominates the low-price segment The Russian Federation plays a significant role in security policy, especially for the so-called "Global South". Russia was the second largest arms exporter in 2021, whereby this refers to the value of the exported weapons systems. In the lower price segment, the Russian Federation was the most significant exporter. In the 21st century, the Kremlin continues the role of the Soviet Union and for decades hardly needed to fear competition from comparably priced suppliers. Technical dependence in weapons systems is of course the more relevant factor. This affects the supply of spare parts: In combat aircraft, various components are subjected to extreme stress, which is why an aircraft has to be overhauled and wear parts replaced at fixed intervals. The operation of aircraft in particular requires a constant supply of spare parts. The supply of ammunition is also decisive: the delivery problems with ammunition for the Gepard anti-aircraft tank were an illustrative example, but the production of artillery ammunition is more decisive in Ukraine war. In air defence, too, the crucial question is whether one can muster more missiles than the attacking enemy. Shortages of ammunition can be decisive for the war. It is also widespread practice for most complex weapon systems to be overhauled, maintained and in some cases modernised at regular intervals. In the process, not only wear parts are replaced, but also technically advanced and new systems are integrated. For example, the Leopard 2A0 main battle tank, which went into series production in 1979, is technically extremely different from the Leopard 2A8, which will be delivered to the Bundeswehr from 2025. New versions of a weapon system are sometimes produced, but usually manufacturers try to upgrade existing systems. If this regular upgrading fails to take place, the weapon system will be overtaken by technological developments. The "Trophy Active Protection System" of the new generation Leopard 2 covers the vehicle with a 360-degree radar and fires a highly automated projectile-forming charge at approaching projectiles. In the early 1980s, there was nowhere near the computing power required for such technology. Today, it is essential for modern tank weaponry, as illustrated by the first weeks of the invasion of Ukraine, when technologically obsolete Russian tanks were shot down in rows. This practice is also common in ships. The Brandenburg-class frigates, in service since 1994, are comparatively new and yet radar and missile technology in particular has advanced. Among other things, the frigates of this class have been retrofitted with the MASS decoy system, which has only been in production since 2004. These two quite different weapon systems exemplify how weapon systems have been upgraded against the technically latest generation of projectiles. In the absence of such upgrades in an arms cooperation, the outdated models are easy to combat on the battlefield. The dependency between arms exporter and arms importer thus exists far beyond mere procurement. Especially when a state has opted for a long-lived weapon system, upgrades and spare parts create a massive dependency relationship. Arms cooperation has strong political implications This dependence on the Russian Federation has an enormous influence on Indian foreign policy. India's voting behaviour on Russia's war of aggression in the UN General Assembly has been making negative headlines since March 2022. The fact that India is one of the few democratic states to have abstained in all relevant votes so far is causing disgruntlement in the Western world. In India, it is openly communicated that the voting behaviour is primarily due to dependence on Russian weapons systems. Numerous attempts by Western diplomats and politicians to argue that India should side with them have accordingly come to nothing. India's government may share the arguments for a rules-based international order, but that does not change the fact that its own security interests have priority. India cannot afford any sign of military weakness - for this, arms cooperation with Moscow is indispensable in the medium term. India's security challenges often fly under the radar of the European public. Clashes like the one in Ladakh in 2020 are described as "skirmishes" in the press. A term that probably no journalist would choose if 20 German soldiers had been killed in an incident. That New Delhi feels threatened is by no means unfounded. The conflict with the nuclear power Pakistan, which has been going on since India became a state, is increasingly taking a back seat, but is still very present and linked to the rivalry with China. The People's Republic of China, Pakistan's most important arms supplier, is the second nuclear power with a direct border with India and claims parts of India's territory as "southern Tibet". The overarching level of the Indo-Chinese rivalry is China's aspiration to become a hegemonic power, which goes hand in hand with containing India's sphere of influence on the Asian continent. Chinese territorial claims in the Indian Himalayas, the Northeast and Bhutan are serious threats to India. In particular, there is concern in New Delhi that China may try to conquer the so-called "Siliguri Corridor", also known as the "Chicken's Neck of India". The Siliguri Corridor is a strip of land only twenty kilometres wide around the city of Siliguri in the Indian state of West Bengal and the only point of connection for the eight states of northeast India with the rest of the country. China also poses a threat at sea. For India, a possible military use of the Belt and Road projects is tantamount to complete maritime encirclement by China. If the ports in Pakistan, Sri-Lanka, Bangladesh, and Myanmar were used as Chinese naval bases, they would effectively cover the maritime area around India. A destroyer can reach any point within India's 200-mile zone in less than 24 hours from these ports and have access to shipping in the Arabian Sea, the Laccadive Sea, the Gulf of Bengal and the Andaman Sea. Chinese naval bases in Djibouti, the Strait of Malacca and the west coast of Africa form a second ring around India. Given the territorial claims China is aggressively pursuing in the region and also on Indian territory, Beijing can be clearly identified as the aggressor in the Indo-Chinese conflict. Moreover, in 2022 China had a defence budget 210 billion USD larger than India's and is clearly superior in terms of defence technology. The threat situation could hardly be more tangible. India's diversification is a marathon, not a sprint In recent years, India has been the largest buyer of Russian weapons, albeit with a declining trend. The use of Russian weapon systems is pronounced in all three branches of the armed forces. The majority of the tank force is equipped with T-90s (1,200 tanks in active service) and T-72s (2,400 tanks in active service). Only a few units use the Arjun main battle tank, which is produced in-house. In combination with the main battle tanks, the Indian Army can draw on around 1,800 BMP-2 infantry fighting vehicles and 800 BTR-80s. The armoured force is completed by a good 700 BMD and BRDM-2 airborne and reconnaissance tanks. A total of about 7,000 tanks from Russian production (or Indian licensed production) make up India's land forces. This gigantic number, combined with the age of most of the vehicles, only gives an idea of how huge the need for spare parts and upgrades must be. Although the Indian Air Force has implemented two solid future projects with the French Rafale multi-role fighter (36 aircraft in active service) and the indigenously produced HAL Tejas (30 aircraft in active service), Russian MiG-29 (68) and Su-30MKI (263) fighters form the backbone of the air force. The navy has 42 more MiG-29s, which also form the main armament of the aircraft carriers. Away from air combat, around 250 Russian helicopters of different variants ensure the flexibility of the Indian armed forces. The navy, with a recently commissioned aircraft carrier of its own production and the Kolkata-class destroyers, has less dependence on Russian technology. However, the Indian Navy's older aircraft carrier, as well as the nuclear submarines and the majority of the frigates are of Soviet and Russian production, respectively. The various classes of frigates, all of which have Indian names, are Russian technology. Exemplary is the newly launched Talwar class, which is a modified version of the Soviet Krivak class. The seven ships were built in St. Petersburg and Kaliningrad. The Indian military is just one of many examples of armed forces that have a heavy dependence on Russian weapons systems. Algeria, for example, has purchased over 300 T-90 main battle tanks and 46 Su-30MK fighter aircraft from Moscow since 2005 alone. Malaysia and Vietnam have recently received 18 and 12 Su-30s, respectively. Venezuela has purchased $15 billion worth of Russian aircraft, helicopters, and missile systems since 2000. Azerbaijan and Armenia have equally received extensive Russian arms imports ranging from tanks to helicopters in recent years. Uganda has amassed a Soviet-Russian tank fleet of around three hundred vehicles over many decades. The examples could be continued. India stands out merely because of its size, but the dependence on Russian weapons systems is glaring in many states of the global South. These states are now facing the "Russian arms question". States of the Global South are looking for an alternative It is obvious that the Russian arms industry will lose its position in the global security architecture. This does not necessarily mean that it will no longer have a prominent position, but it will lose market share regardless of the outcome of the war. There are four reasons for this: (1) In the coming years, the Russian defence industry will have little capacity to take on larger orders, as it will have to compensate for its own losses from the war. (2) It has become apparent that production is dependent on numerous foreign components, the availability of which is limited for the near future due to the sanction. (3) Furthermore, the acquisition of new Russian weapons systems is associated with possible political consequences for the purchasing state or at least with a loss of reputation in the West. (4) The most serious reason is the performance of Russian weapon systems in Ukraine. For example, technical defects in missiles were unexpectedly high; Russia was unable to gain air superiority even after more than a year; there is no footage of Russian tanks firing while moving and hitting targets with pinpoint accuracy; Russian artillery is surprisingly inaccurate in its aiming; and pictures of broken-down vehicles have gone around the world. Russian troops have had to procure drones from Iran and prestige projects such as the A-14 main battle tank or the Uran-9 unmanned tank have not yet been seen on the battlefield. The hypersonic missile "Kinschal", which was staged as unstoppable, was shot down many times by Western air defence systems. The sinking of the flagship of the Black Sea Fleet completed the bad image. The "Russian arms question" therefore becomes quite urgent. Since building an effective arms industry is unrealistic in the vast majority of states, few options remain. One can wait for the regeneration of the Russian arms industry or switch to the Chinese alternatives. India, even more than other states, is looking for a third way, as the Chinese alternative is not an option. From India's point of view, weapons systems from NATO countries or from Israel are the only chance for diversification. The Indian government is pushing joint ventures or production in India, not so much to strengthen its own economy, but rather to lower the cost of defence equipment. The question of cost is, of course, even more decisive for states that would also have access to Chinese armaments. Already in the past, some states opted for Soviet and later Russian products, either because they did not have access to other weapon systems for political reasons or because they were simply cheaper. A Leopard 2 main battle tank already costs 15 million euros in the A7 version. The Russian T-90 costs about 3.5 million euros. The example is not optimally chosen because the Leopard 2 has a different technical level and weighs about 20 t more. However, this would be the alternative from the point of view of a state that would want to switch from a Russian to a German battle tank. The price factor is still an important variable today. Should the arms industries of the NATO countries be economically unable or not politically mandated to fill the Russian vacuum, China will most likely take over this role. In South Asia, this development has already progressed, as Pakistan was dependent on an alternative to Russian arms imports due to good Indo-Russian relations. Pakistan has been the largest importer of Chinese arms from 2010 to 2020, far behind Bangladesh and Myanmar. In this sector, 38 per cent of all Chinese exports from 2006 to 2020 went to Pakistan. China's defence sector would in all likelihood be prepared for increased arms exports, as the industry grew precisely in the years when there was no reason for high arms spending in Europe. Comparing 2003 to 2007 and 2008 to 2012, China's arms exports grew by 162 per cent. China is ready. Germany should see its arms industry as a strategic tool Not only Russia and China, but also the USA, Israel and France see their powerful arms industry as a strategic instrument of their foreign policy. In Germany, the debate about domestic arms production has turned 180 degrees. The Bundestag debates on the acquisition of weaponised drones from 2008 onwards seem naïve today, the blanket opposition to arms exports is hardly represented in public discourse anymore, and the image of arms companies has also changed fundamentally. The IRIS-T air defence system protects the lives of civilians in Ukraine. Sentences such as "Armament research has no value for society" or "One can assist other countries in other ways than with howitzers" in German leading media seem out of date. In 2022, Germany has moved from an ivory tower discourse of ethics to an ethics of responsibility that recognises the new geopolitical reality. After this first step, it is important to initiate a strategic debate. It is in Germany's interest that states do not move away from their dependence on Russia into China's orbit. It is also a direct European security interest to minimise Russian arms exports. The Russian arms industry employs 2 to 3 million people, which corresponds to about 20 per cent of total industrial jobs. No other economy is so dependent on its arms industry. Since it is a majority state-owned industry, a decline in exports would directly affect the state budget. On the one hand, a decline in exports would result in a lack of revenue; on the other hand, procurement costs for the country's own armed forces would rise considerably. Moreover, the monopolised structure entails the risk that the failure of a single Russian company would result in the loss of far-reaching military capabilities or necessitate costly state support. By denying the Russian defence industry sales markets, Russia's military capabilities are weakened in the long term and, at the same time, its economy as a whole. The type and volume of arms exports are undoubtedly an indicator of friendship between states. Many Russian customers from Venezuela to Syria are not strategic partners of Europe. Possible competition with the Russian or Chinese arms industry must be decided on a case-by-case basis. Arming Cuba, North Korea or Iran with German technology is obviously not in the strategic interest, but in other cases, such as Saudi Arabia - which is by no means a value partner - the German government has already decided in favour of arms exports for overriding strategic reasons. India's arms build-up is minimal risk and of critical strategic importance. The foreign and security policy institutions as well as the party landscape in India are very stable, which is why a change of policy is not likely. There is a great willingness to break away from dependence on Moscow. India is a stability factor in the Indian Ocean and stands for free sea routes. With a defence budget of over 80 billion USD per year, the country would be a major customer for the German defence industry. France and the USA have already been playing a significant role in the modernisation of the Indian armed forces for years and are taking a very proactive and accommodating approach. India-NATO relations have already been mapped out by these two NATO partners. From a German perspective, one can now at least follow this line retrospectively or decide not to play a security role in South Asia. With its more than 3,000 km long border with China and a kind of "Cold War" in the Indian Ocean, India is one of the states with which China could soon have a major military confrontation. Due to its sheer size and long land border, India is, from the US perspective, the most important potential partner in a possible escalation with China, along with Japan and Australia. India is therefore likely to be given privileged access to US weapons systems and will itself seek US security proximity. In the event of a conflict, India, for all its self-confidence, will not be able to stand up to China alone, as it is inferior to China in terms of defence technology. The Russian defence industry is still decisive for India's military planners - but many things are now being recalibrated here. For India - as for many other states - Germany must answer the question of how "the expansion of security and defence cooperation" is implemented. The Indo-Pacific Guidelines mention participation in forums, exercises, and evacuation planning as well as the deployment of liaison officers and "various forms of maritime presence". The states in the region are well aware that the German Navy is not a security factor in the region. The arms policy approach in Germany's guidelines is expressed in the thirteen mentions of arms control. If this is the Indo-Pacific strategy of the German government, it currently has no serious security policy dimension. In short, if Germany does not use its powerful arms industry as an instrument of security policy, then the toolbox is empty. Armament cooperation is a common and effective instrument of foreign policy for France or the USA, for example, but also for the Russian Federation and China. Especially for a nation that seeks to avoid military engagement, it is the only realpolitik option for action apart from "soft power". Germany should understand its arms industry as a strategic instrument.

Defense & Security
The flag of Ukraine on a paper with words

European public opinion remains supportive of Ukraine

by Maria Demertzis , Camille Grand , Luca Léry Moffat

Public support for Ukraine is holding up in allied countries, but preparations should be made for scenarios in which support ebbs away. As the war in Ukraine drags on, the direct economic cost to Europe and other countries is rising. Through unprecedently high and now long-lasting inflation, the war has increased financial fragility in households across the European Union and risks eroding public support for Ukraine. But the evidence shows that public opinion stands firm. EU countries and institutions have committed financial, humanitarian and military support to Ukraine, totalling €62 billion as of 24 February 2023, exactly one year on from Russia’s invasion. The total is estimated to be around €70 billion as of 23 May 2023.  Source: Bruegel based on Trebesch et al (2023). Bilateral commitments from EU member states had reached €26.18 billion by 24 February 2023, with most of this figure consisting of military aid (€16.02 billion). Commitments from European institutions hit €35.53 billion in February 2023. The biggest chunk of this was an €18 billion package to support Ukraine’s immediate needs and maintain macroeconomic stability throughout 2023 – one example being the gaping hole in Ukraine’s finances, the budget deficit currently at a quarter of Ukraine’s GDP.  The European Investment Bank has pledged €668 million in liquidity assistance, while a series of €500 million tranches contributed by the EU to the European Peace Facility (EPF)  for military purposes now amounts to €3.6 billion committed. This support is relatively small and sustainable. The €70 billion, encapsulating financial, humanitarian, military, emergency budget and resources for those fleeing the war, is only 0.44 percent of EU GDP. The European economy has also been affected by high energy prices. The European Commission predicted in its spring 2023 inflation forecasts that euro-area inflation will be 5.8 percent this year. This is a little higher than anticipated during the winter. According to the European Central Bank, euro-area food prices were 15 percent higher in April 2023 than in April 2022. With euro-area inflation at 8.4 percent in 2022 (European Commission, 2023), €100 in 2021 is only worth €86 in 2023. It is understandable that the public is impatient with the level of costs it faces every day and adapting energy consumption in the face of energy scarcity. Figure 2 shows the proportion of Europeans who changed their habits to save on energy or dipped into savings due to inflation.  Source: Bruegel based on European Commission (2022). Interviews conducted between 18 October and 4 December 2022 with a representative sample of citizens, aged 18 and over, in each EU country. Figure 2 shows that 71 percent of EU citizens changed habits at home to save on energy. In only one country, Slovenia, did less than half of citizens change habits (49 percent). Furthermore, 37 percent of EU citizens had to take money from their savings as a direct consequence of inflation, ranging from 58 percent in Greece to 16 percent in Croatia. European public opinion: remarkably stable The more expensive the war becomes, the more one might expect European public support to decrease. Indeed, there has been an overall decline in support for measures backing Ukraine. Figure 3 shows a pattern of slow overall decline across France, Germany, Spain, Italy and Poland. The proportion of those in favour of sending arms or of economic and financial sanctions has fallen.  Source: Bruegel based on Ifop (2023). Despite this decline, as of February 2023, support for sanctions and direct assistance to Ukraine remained solid, above 50 percent in all but one case. EU-wide persistent public support signals that European citizens understand that the outcome of the war is of critical importance to their own futures. Eight months into the war, the average approval rate amongst the EU27 for EU support for Ukraine was an astonishing 73 percent (European Parliament, 2022). Only four countries – Bulgaria, Cyprus, Slovakia and Greece – reported approval ratings of less than 50 percent. Furthermore, an average of 59 percent of citizens in eight Central and Eastern EU countries believe that sanctions against Russia should remain in place according to a poll conducted in March 2023 (Hajdu et al., 2023). Meanwhile, a poll from the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology in February 2023 showed that 87 percent of Ukrainians said that under no circumstances should Ukraine give up any of its territory, even if the war lasts longer. This is an increase from 82 percent in May 2022 . The different blocs There are some significant disparities in popular support in different EU countries. Krastev and Leonard (2023) noted that three different blocs of public opinion have emerged: the northern and eastern hawks (Estonia, Poland, Denmark and the United Kingdom), the ambiguous west (France, Germany, Spain, Portugal) and the southern weak links (Italy and Romania). Figure 2 shows persistent support in countries from each of these groups. Amongst even the least supportive member states, some interesting results are observed. When individuals were asked to choose between two opposing statements on whether sanctions were worth higher prices or not, Hungary was the only one out of nine EU countries surveyed where the majority believed that sanctions were not worth it (Figure 4).  Source: Bruegel based on Ipsos (2023). Surprisingly, the number of those who believe that the most important thing is stopping the war as soon as possible, even if Ukraine had to forfeit territory to Russia, actually declined almost across the board according to January 2023 polling reported by Krastev and Leonard (2023). Notable declines were seen in Romania and Italy – those characterised as the ‘southern weak links’. This may be due to citizens becoming more willing to support Ukraine for the long run.  Source: Bruegel based on Krastev & Leonard (2023). The United States US aid to Ukraine in the first year amounted to 0.37 percent of US GDP (Trebesch et al, 2023). The willingness in the US to bear costs for supporting Ukraine has followed a similar pattern to the EU of slow decline across the political spectrum.  Source: Based on Figure 5, Telhami (2023). This decline may signal ‘impatience’ with the war in Ukraine (especially amongst Republicans), but there are also signs of persistent support. The current level of US military expenditure to support Ukraine was either too little or about the right level according to 42 percent of respondents, as opposed to 33 percent who said it is too much. Interestingly, there is a strong preference for support staying on course for one to two years (46 percent of respondents) versus only 38 percent who would accept providing support to Ukraine for ‘as long as it takes’ (Telhami, 2023). Whilst there is a clear division along party lines, there is reduced support amongst Democrats and Republicans. This means that the future of American support for Ukraine may change even before the 2024 elections. Lower support across the political spectrum during the upcoming electoral season could result in reduced backing from the Biden administration or in Congress, as both sides vie for votes. This is before a potential Republican victory, which under certain scenarios, may stop or dramatically limit support from the US. Conclusion   An erosion in public support for Ukraine might have been expected as the cost and economic consequences of the war began to impact EU households through inflation. But support for Ukraine has remained strong, suggesting that the public understands fully the wider implications for European security of the outcome of the war. The public sides overwhelmingly with the Ukrainians, which are clearly perceived as the victims of an aggression. This is consistent with the growing support for maintaining or increasing defence spending. Most NATO citizens (74 percent in 2022 versus 70 percent in 2021; NATO, 2023) think that defence spending should either be maintained at current levels or increased (with some significant differences from 85 percent to 52 percent, but always with a majority supporting). Just 12 percent think less should be spent on defence.   Public support could decline more in the future. If news from the battlefield suggests a protracted conflict in which neither side can prevail militarily, then time and the potential decline in US support may affect EU public opinion. A successful Ukrainian counter-offensive would play an important role in the continuance of Western support for the war. In the absence of progress on the battlefield, voices calling for a peace settlement, even on unfavourable terms to Ukraine, might gain traction in the public debate. In upcoming elections, this could benefit political parties less favourable to supporting Ukraine for ‘as long as it takes’. European leaders must therefore prepare for several scenarios. Significant Ukrainian successes in the battlefield in the near future could pave the way for a positive settlement and the restoration of Ukrainian sovereignty and its reconstruction. The EU must also prepare for the more complex outcome of a protracted war, which would require sustained efforts to support Ukraine militarily (Grand, 2023) and economically. This would require further and constant political efforts to keep public opinion on board, preserving European and Western unity in a potentially degraded economic and political environment.

Defense & Security
The missiles are aimed at the sky at sunset. Nuclear bomb, chemical weapons, missile defense, a system of salvo fire

The Role Of Umbrella States In The Global Nuclear Order

by Dr Tytti Erästö

I. Introduction  This paper focuses on countries having extended nuclear deterrence arrangements with a nuclear-armed patron from whom they have received a nuclear security guarantee. Extended nuclear deterrence is often called a ‘nuclear umbrella’—a metaphor that hardly captures the risks inherent in nuclear deterrence practices—and the non-nuclear weapon states belonging to an alliance with such arrangements are commonly referred to as ‘umbrella’ states. As of 4 April 2023, upon the accession of Finland to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), 31 countries were relying on the extended nuclear deterrence provided by the United States or, at the least, were accepting nuclear weapons as part of the mix of military capabilities intended to create a collective deterrent effect. In the absence of a ‘no first use’ policy, this means that the USA could use nuclear weapons to respond not only to a nuclear attack but also to an act of conventional aggression against its non-nuclear-armed allies. The USA is not the only country providing nuclear security guarantees to its allies: recently, Russia claimed to have included Belarus under its respective nuclear umbrella.   Umbrella states base their security on military capabilities that include the nuclear weapons of other countries, and in some cases, they also host nuclear weapons and take part in military exercises simulating their use. Thus far, the role of the umbrella states in the global nuclear order has received relatively little attention, and they are generally categorised as non-nuclear weapon states. Their agency in maintaining or potentially changing the existing nuclear order tends to be downplayed and overshadowed by that of nuclear-armed states. However, umbrella states received some attention at the Tenth Review Conference of the Parties to the 1968 Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (Non-Proliferation Treaty, NPT). At the conference, held in 2022, Parties to the Treaty discussed whether to recognize ‘the importance for States parties that are part of military alliances that include nuclear-weapon States to report . . . on steps taken to reduce and eliminate the role of nuclear weapons in national and collective security doctrines’. Owing to resistance by the USA and several of its allies to create a third category of states alongside nuclear weapon states and nonnuclear weapon states, this reference was ultimately removed from the draft outcome document.  The discussions at the 2022 NPT Review Conference reflected the current context, wherein greater military value is being placed on nuclear weapons, including by umbrella states. Provided that Sweden’s application to join NATO—which it submitted in 2022 together with Finland’s application—is accepted, the number of countries under the extended nuclear deterrence arrangements of the USA will increase to 32. At the same time, US allies in the Asia-Pacific region are responding to perceived threats from China and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK, or North Korea) with increasing calls for the redeployment of US non-strategic nuclear weapons to the region. Reflecting its concerns about potential new nuclear weapon deployments in Asia, China was vocal in opposing US nuclear hosting arrangements at the 2022 NPT Review Conference. That an increasing number of non-nuclear weapon states see security value in nuclear weapons does not bode well for the global nuclear dis armament and non-proliferation regime. The development also highlights the need to better understand how the policies of umbrella states affect the global nuclear order. That order is characterized by the continuation of nuclear deterrence practices by the world’s nine nuclear-armed states despite a shared understanding of the devastating planetary-scale humanitarian and environmental risks involved in such practices and the consequent need for nuclear disarmament.  Taking a broad historical perspective, this paper explores the ways in which umbrella states both in the Asia-Pacific region and in Europe have supported prevailing nuclear deterrence practices or, at times, distanced themselves from such practices and broken ranks with their allies on relevant issues. The goal of the paper is to assess the scope of umbrella states’ agency in maintaining, shaping, and potentially challenging the global nuclear status quo in support of nuclear disarmament. II. Endorsing nuclear deterrence through policy and practice  This section examines policies through which umbrella states support and contribute to the prevailing nuclear deterrence practices or have done so in the past. Such policies provide support that ranges from operational, which sees allies directly involved in such practices, to political, which is better understood in terms of moral burden-sharing. While such policies serve to maintain and legitimize the existing nuclear status quo, in some cases the endorsement by umbrella states of nuclear deterrence has moved beyond supporting the status quo to calling for new nuclear sharing arrangements or outright nuclear proliferation.  Operational support for nuclear deterrence practices  Umbrella states can provide operational support to their nuclear-armed patron for nuclear deterrence practices by hosting nuclear weapons and related facilities, participating in military exercises simulating nuclear strikes, conducting joint flights with strategic bombers, and engaging in planning and consultation on nuclear weapons-related issues. Given the broad nature of existing bilateral and multilateral consultation mechanisms, which also cover issues such as arms control, it is sometimes difficult to draw a boundary line between operational and political support.  Nuclear weapon hosting  During the cold war, the USA stationed non-strategic nuclear weapons in the territories of several of its Asia-Pacific and European allies. In Europe, the first such weapons were deployed in 1954 in the United Kingdom and West Germany to complement the deterrence provided by US strategic (long-range) nuclear weapons, which was deemed insufficient against the Soviet Union’s overwhelming conventional power. In 1958, the first nuclear sharing agreements were established, meaning that European allies would not only host US nuclear weapons but also take control of and launch such weapons against their            bintended targets during times of crisis. By the mid1960s, Belgium, France, Greece, Italy, the Netherlands, and Türkiye were hosting various types of non-strategic nuclear weapon under NATO nuclear sharing arrangements. By 1971, there were 7300 forward-deployed nuclear weapons in Europe. In addition to the eight above-mentioned European countries, the USA also stationed nuclear weapons in the Danish territory of Greenland (see section III below). The deployments in Europe coincided with deployments elsewhere in the world. In Asia and the Pacific, the USA stationed nuclear weapons in the late 1950s in the Philippines, South Korea, and Taiwan, as well as in overseas territories of the USA. The largest deployments were in South Korea and the Japanese island of Okinawa, with the number of warheads hosted by the country and island respectively peaking at almost 1000 in the late 1960s. Most of these weapons had been withdrawn by the late 1970s; South Korea remained the only host state in the Asia-Pacific region in the following decade. The USA also deployed non-strategic nuclear weapons in Morocco in the 1950s and Canada in the 1960s. The Soviet Union deployed non-strategic nuclear weapons in all of its 15 republics as well as in some of its Warsaw Pact allies. Starting in the late 1950s and continuing over the following decade, non-strategic nuclear weapons were gradually deployed in Czechoslovakia, East Germany, Hungary, and Poland. All of these weapons had been withdrawn by the early 1990s. During the remainder of that decade, the strategic nuclear weapons that had been hosted in Belarus, Kazakhstan and Ukraine were also withdrawn.  With the end of the cold war, forward-deployed non-strategic nuclear weapons effectively lost their raison d’être, particularly in Europe. Reflecting the new geopolitical context, in the early 1990s the USA unilaterally withdrew most of its non-strategic nuclear weapons from allied countries. In South Korea, the nuclear hosting arrangement ended completely. While NATO nuclear sharing continued, only the air-delivered B61 bombs remained and their numbers were reduced, while all other non-strategic nuclear weapon types were removed from Europe.  In 2001, the B61 weapons were removed from Greece. In the years that followed, the military value of the non-strategic US nuclear weapons that still remained in five NATO countries was frequently called into question. As noted in a 2005 US study, ‘Nuclear burden sharing in NATO, in as far as host country nuclear strike missions are concerned, is on a slow but steady decline toward ending altogether’. The political momentum for ending nuclear sharing was at its highest during the administration of US president Barack Obama, whose vision for a nuclear weapon-free world arguably inspired some allies to more vocally argue for the withdrawal of non-strategic nuclear weapons from Europe. Yet, the same US administration also pushed back against and, as it seems, silenced such critical voices (see section III below).  Today, an estimated 100 non-strategic nuclear weapons remain stationed in five European countries—Belgium, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, and Türkiye—and the USA is modernizing its B61 bombs. The nuclear weapon hosting states, with the exception of Türkiye, plan to replace their ageing dual-capable aircraft with F-35 aircraft, which will enable use of the precision strike feature of the new B61-12 bombs. As before, allies are responsible for delivering these weapons during a crisis. Since 1976, US gravity bombs in Europe have included electronic locks (permissive action links, PALs) to reduce the risk of unauthorized use. The delegation of authority for nuclear weapon use from the USA to its allies is based on a dual key system: following an agreement by the NATO Nuclear Planning Group (NPG) and authorization by the US president, US military personnel at allied bases would deactivate the PALs, handing over control of the weapons to pilots of the weapon hosting states.  As noted above, China recently raised its opposition to NATO nuclear weapon hosting practices, reflecting its apparent concerns about the prospect of US non-strategic nuclear weapons being redeployed in Asia. Russia, alongside China and other countries, has long argued that NATO’s nuclear sharing policy is not in accordance with Articles I and II of the NPT. Russia’s normative case against NATO nuclear sharing is, however, currently undermined by its own plans to share nuclear weapons with Belarus. Echoing the arguments of the USA in this regard, Russia maintains that the weapons will remain under Russian control, hence the arrangement—announced in March 2023—will be in line with international non-proliferation obligations. According to Russian President Vladimir Putin, the construction of nuclear weapon storage facilities in Belarus is to be completed by July 2023. Russia reportedly provided Belarus with dual capable Iskander missiles and modified Belarusian Su-25 bombers to enable them to carry nuclear weapons prior to the March announcement. Military exercises simulating tactical nuclear strikes  Some umbrella states that do not host nuclear weapons nevertheless actively contribute to nuclear sharing by taking part in military exercises involving dual-capable aircraft. NATO’s Support of Nuclear Operations with Conventional Air Tactics (SNOWCAT) programme comprises a unique form of such participation. In SNOWCAT missions, allies provide conventional aircraft to escort dual-capable aircraft, and they also provide surveillance and refuelling. The aim of the exercises is to practise nuclear strike operations.  In 2022, 14 allies were reported as having participated in the annual SNOWCAT exercise called Steadfast Noon. While NATO does not reveal the participating countries, in previous years they have reportedly included at least Czechia and Poland alongside host states and nuclear-armed states. In addition, Denmark confirmed its participation in the 2022 exercise, and Greece too seems to have taken part.  Joint flights with strategic bombers  US nuclear sharing arrangements are limited to Europe, hence there is no programme comparable to SNOWCAT in other regions. According to a 2011 report, ‘There are no nuclear weapons–related exercises conducted between the United States and the military forces’ in umbrella states in Asia. However, US allies in the Asia-Pacific region frequently fly with US strategic B-2 and B-52  bombers to signal deterrence to regional adversaries. For example, US B-52 bombers were ‘met with and escorted by’ Japanese F-15J combat aircraft in August 2021, and accompanied by South Korean F-35As and F-15Ks in December 2022. Australia has also taken part in joint flights with US strategic aircraft, as have NATO allies in Europe. Even countries that are not part of extended nuclear deterrence arrangements—including Indonesia, Israel, Saudi Arabia and Sweden—have been involved in this practice.  Thus far, the B-52s used in regional operations in Asia and the Pacific have only been deployed rotationally in the US territory of Guam. However, Australia is currently expanding a military air base in its Northern Territory with the intention of hosting US B-52 bombers. Once completed, the base would appear to be only the second one of its kind outside US territory (after Royal Air Force, RAF, Fairford in the UK) and the first one of its kind in an umbrella state.  Consultation and planning  All NATO members other than France are involved in collective decision making on nuclear weapon-related issues through their participation in the NPG. The NPG ‘provides a forum in which NATO member countries can participate in the development of the Alliance’s nuclear policy and in decisions on NATO’s nuclear posture’. Discussions under the NPG cover issues such as ‘the overall effectiveness of NATO’s nuclear deterrent, the safety, security and survivability of nuclear weapons, and communications and information systems’. The mandate of the NPG also covers arms control and non-proliferation.  Various observers have characterized the group’s main function broadly in terms of information-sharing and the establishment of ‘NATO’s common nuclear deterrence culture’. While the NATO line is that participation in the NPG is not limited to members that maintain nuclear weapons, one source points to ‘an unwritten rule that only the stationing countries speak up in NPG meetings’.  The NPG was established in 1966 primarily in response to the concerns of European host states about plans for the use of the non-strategic nuclear weapons on their territory and the desire of these countries to become more involved in relevant decision making. After having been first limited to host states, the NPG was later expanded to include other NATO allies. The participation of the latter countries was viewed by nuclear weapon states as a valuable contribution to political or moral burden-sharing.  With the salience of nuclear weapons decreasing for much of the post-cold-war period, NPG meetings became less frequent. In addition, during this period, unlike during the cold war, the group’s work no longer involved ‘nuclear planning in the strict sense of targeting’. However, the role of nuclear weapons in NATO policy has been increasing following Russia’s invasions of Ukraine in 2014 and 2022, which has also impacted the NPG’s work and increased the group’s visibility. For a long time, nuclear consultations were unique to NATO; no mechanism similar to the NPG existed between the USA and its allies in the Asia-Pacific region. In the words of one observer, ‘US alliance relations in Asia as a whole developed in a considerably more hierarchical fashion, arranged in a hub-and-spoke model in which Washington dealt bilaterally and from a position of strength with each allied government rather than collectively through a single multilateral alliance’. However, over the past decade, the USA has also conducted bilateral consultations with Australia, Japan, and South Korea, based on these allies’ desire to gain more insight into and influence in US nuclear weapons-related policy. Plans have also been made to extend such consultations to a trilateral (Japan, South Korea, and the USA) or a quadrilateral (as for trilateral but including Australia) format.  One forum for bilateral nuclear consultation is the US–Japan Extended Deterrence Dialogue, which was established in 2010. Similarly, to the NPG, the dialogue ‘provides an opportunity . . . to discuss regional security, Alliance defense posture, nuclear and missile defense policy, and arms control issues, and to engage in an in-depth exchange of views on means to enhance as well as deepen mutual understanding on alliance deterrence’. South Korea and the USA, in turn, have conducted nuclear consultations under their Deterrence Strategy Committee and Extended Deterrence Strategy and Consultation Group. These consultations were apparently expanded or replaced with a new—more substantive—mechanism in April 2023, when US President Joe Biden announced in a joint press briefing with his South Korean counterpart, President Yoon Suk-Yeol, that the two countries had ‘agreed to establish a Nuclear Consultative Group to map out a specific plan to operate the new extended deterrence system’. In addition to sharing information on ‘mutual nuclear assets and intelligence’, this new system would also cover ‘ways to plan and execute joint operations that combine Korea’s state-of-the-art conventional forces with the US’s nuclear capabilities’. The announcement followed controversial statements by the South Korean president that suggested the country might be considering the acquisition of nuclear weapons of its own (see below).  Possibly reflective of the greater need for reassurance related to extended nuclear deterrence based mainly on US strategic nuclear weapons, the bilateral consultations of the USA with both Japan and South Korea have included visits and tours to familiarize these allies with US strategic weapons delivery vehicles. Moreover, the new US–South Korean Nuclear Consultative Group that was announced in April includes visits by South Korean officials to US nuclear submarines in South Korean ports.  Assessment of the degree of operational involvement of umbrella states in nuclear deterrence  The hosting of nuclear weapons can be seen to constitute a particularly high level of commitment to nuclear deterrence—especially in the case of NATO nuclear sharing, which involves the handing over of control of nuclear weapons by the USA to an ally and the potential execution of a nuclear strike by that ally during a crisis. The host state takes on an enormous burden in sacrificing its own security, as military bases with nuclear weapon infrastructure and housing dual-capable aircraft for nuclear strike missions are logical targets for adversaries in wartime. Although European host states would ultimately be responsible for dropping B61 bombs on their target locations, other allies’ provision of support for the nuclear strike mission under the SNOWCAT programme must also be seen as a direct operational contribution to nuclear deterrence practices.  Assessment of the degree of operational involvement of umbrella states in nuclear deterrence  Political support for nuclear deterrence  Acceptance of a nuclear security guarantee constitutes political support— albeit passive—for existing nuclear deterrence practices. Typically, this kind of support involves endorsing the strategy documents of an alliance that stress the need for nuclear deterrence or as discussed above, participating in allied nuclear consultations. Some countries choose to go further in their political support by making public statements highlighting the perceived security value of nuclear weapons. Another form of political support by umbrella states of nuclear deterrence practices is signalling opposition to multilateral initiatives that question the legitimacy of nuclear deterrence.  Statements supporting extended nuclear deterrence  Umbrella states tend to keep a low profile regarding the role of nuclear weapons in their national security policies. In most cases, their national security strategies do not even mention nuclear deterrence and nuclear weapons are either discussed in relation to the perceived threats posed by adversaries or viewed exclusively as objects of arms control and disarmament. In multilateral forums, nuclear-allied countries usually do not wish to stand out from non-nuclear weapon states.  In some cases, however, umbrella states do explicitly stress the importance of nuclear weapons and extended nuclear deterrence for their national security. A recent example of public endorsement of nuclear deterrence is the German response to the criticism by China, Russia, and several nonnuclear weapon states of NATO nuclear sharing arrangements at the 2022 NPT Review Conference. Using its right of reply, Germany said that NATO nuclear sharing is ‘fully consistent and compliant with the NPT’, adding that the practice was ‘put in place well before the NPT entered into force’ and that it ‘has long been accepted and publicly understood by all States Parties to the NPT’. At the same conference, a representative of Hungary defended nuclear sharing by saying that it contributes to non-proliferation by ‘remov[ing] incentives for nations to develop their own nuclear deterrence capabilities’. Both of these arguments have long been made by NATO to justify nuclear sharing.  When comparing the defence white papers of umbrella states, Australia and Germany stand out for the reason that both countries explicitly refer to extended nuclear deterrence as a source of national security. Germany, in addition to repeating key tenets of NATO’s deterrence policy—for example that ‘The strategic nuclear capabilities of NATO, and in particular those of the United States, are the ultimate guarantee of the security of its members’— also states in its 2016 white paper on security policy and the future of the Bundeswehr that, ‘Through nuclear sharing, Germany continues to be an integral part of NATO’s nuclear policy and planning’. Australia, in its 2020 Defence Strategic Update, states that ‘Only the nuclear and conventional capabilities of the United States can offer effective deterrence against the possibility of nuclear threats against Australia’. Statements supporting extended nuclear deterrence can be viewed as examples of moral burden-sharing, particularly when they are made in forums such as the NPT Review Conference, where nuclear deterrence practices are subject to regular criticism by non-nuclear weapon states. On other occasions—such as when they are made in connection with national security documents—these statements indicate a strong belief that nuclear weapons are an integral part of allied deterrence.  Opposition to the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons  Since 2016, an important show of solidarity among the nuclear weapon states and their allies has been to cast votes against the United Nations General Assembly annual resolution endorsing the 2017 Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW). The TPNW not only questions the legitim acy of existing nuclear deterrence practices but also seeks to stigmatize nuclear weapons globally through its comprehensive ban on nuclear weapons, including on the threat of their use. Not surprisingly, nuclear-armed states have fervently opposed the Treaty, as the credibility of their nuclear deterrents depends on their readiness to threaten nuclear weapon use.  The USA has warned its allies against supporting the TPNW or participating in related meetings. For example, in 2016 it strongly encouraged NATO member countries to vote against UN General Assembly Resolution 71/258, which called for negotiations on a treaty banning nuclear weapons, arguing that such efforts were ‘fundamentally at odds with NATO’s basic policies on deterrence’. In that year, all umbrella states cast a negative vote on the resolution, with the exception of the Netherlands, which abstained from voting (see the section ‘Engagement by umbrella states with the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons’ below). Similarly, all umbrella states, with the exception of the Netherlands, were absent from the TPNW negotiations in 2017; Albania, Poland and South Korea joined the USA in protesting against these negotiations. With only a few exceptions, umbrella states have also uniformly voted against the annual UN General Assembly resolution expressing support for the Treaty. Arguably in line with their decision to apply for NATO membership, in 2022 Finland and Sweden also voted against the resolution for the first time. Calls to expand nuclear deterrence practices  Some countries without existing nuclear sharing arrangements have expressed an interest in hosting nuclear weapons. In 2020, before the recent reports of nuclear sharing between Belarus and Russia (see the section ‘Nuclear weapon hosting’ above), the president of Belarus, Alexander Lukashenko, had offered to host Russian nuclear weapons as a response to the potential deployment of US nuclear weapons to Poland. Belarus’ interest in positioning itself under the Russian nuclear umbrella was in fact first articulated more than 20 years ago.  Poland has on several occasions expressed an interest in hosting US nuclear weapons. For example, in October 2022, following reports of Russian nuclear sharing with Belarus, the president of Poland, Andrzej Duda said that ‘a potential opportunity’ for Poland to participate in nuclear sharing had been discussed with the USA. While the US leadership has not confirmed that such discussions took place, in May 2020 the US ambassador to Poland suggested that ‘perhaps Poland . . . could house the capabilities’ in case Germany were to ‘reduce its nuclear potential and weaken NATO’ by ending its nuclear sharing arrangements with the USA. Stationing US nuclear weapons in former Warsaw Pact countries such as Poland would go against the 1997 Founding Act on Mutual Relations, Cooperation and Security between NATO and the Russian Federation, in which NATO member countries reiterated that they have ‘no intention, no plan and no reason to deploy nuclear weapons on the territory of new members’.  Regarding the Asia-Pacific region, the president of South Korea, Yoon Suk-Yeol, said in an unprecedented statement made in January 2023 that if the nuclear threat from North Korea grows, his country might ‘introduce tactical nuclear weapons or build them on our own’, adding that ‘we can have our own nuclear weapons pretty quickly, given our scientific and technological capabilities’. While there has been a long-standing debate in South Korea on both the reintroduction of US non-strategic weapons and the development of an indigenous nuclear weapon programme, and popular support for both proposals, this was the first time such a statement was made by a high-level government official. Similarly, discussions on the possibility of hosting US nuclear weapons in a manner based on the NATO model have taken place in Japan. Thus far the Japanese government has rejected the idea.  The above-mentioned calls to establish new nuclear weapon hosting arrangements suggest that the umbrella states in question view the existing extended nuclear deterrence practices as insufficient. While these states may view forward-deployed nuclear weapons themselves as key to strengthening deterrence, they might also view them as instruments of alliance cohesion— meaning that, in principle, nuclear weapons could be replaced with any other military system requiring the permanent deployment of US troops on allied territory. Statements supporting indigenous nuclear weapon development go further, indicating the desire of an umbrella state to assume sovereign authority over national nuclear deterrence practices through proliferation. While such statements may be used to appeal to domestic constituencies or to pressure the nuclear-armed patron to strengthen its extended deterrence commitments, they undermine the global non-proliferation norm, particularly if not met with strong international condemnation.  III. Stepping back from nuclear deterrence policies  This section recounts and analyses the ways in which some umbrella states, or government officials in such states, have at times sought to challenge or distance themselves from existing nuclear deterrence practices and broken ranks with allies on relevant issues, often in a manner considered controversial within the alliance. In many such cases, govern mental policymaking has mirrored anti-nuclear sentiments in the population.  Bans on or limits to the stationing of nuclear weapons on national territory  The political reservations of Nordic NATO members about the stationing of nuclear weapons on or their transit through their national territories date back to the late 1950s—a time of strong popular sentiment against nuclear weapons inspired by, for example, the Russell–Einstein Manifesto of 1955 and international efforts at the UN to control and eliminate nuclear weapons. In Spain, similar reservations took shape in the early 1980s, when the antinuclear movement was strong.  Political declarations on potential future deployment or transit  Denmark, Iceland, Norway, and Spain have long had policies that prohibit nuclear weapons being stationed on their national territories. While the policies of Denmark, Norway and Spain leave open the option of allowing the stationing of nuclear weapons during times of war, Iceland’s prohibition seems to apply in all situations.  Danish reservations about nuclear deterrence have been influenced by domestic opposition to nuclear weapons and were captured in a policy that was adopted in May 1957. According to the policy, Denmark would not allow ‘the deployment and transit of nuclear weapons on its territory’, in particular Greenland, where, as a result of a 1951 bilateral defence agreement, the USA was allowed to operate military bases. However, this declaratory policy was contradicted by a secret agreement, according to which the USA was not obliged to inform Denmark of its deployment of nuclear weapons on US bases in Greenland. In practice, Denmark thus allowed both the stationing of US nuclear weapons at Thule Air Base in 1958–1965 and overflights of nuclear armed bombers in Greenland in the 1960s. Although the veil of secrecy was briefly lifted in 1968 when a US B-52 bomber crashed in Greenland, it was not until the 1990s that the full scale of the clandestine activities came to light, causing a political scandal in Denmark.  In Norway, a 1957 motion by the governing Labour Party held that ‘nuclear weapons must not be placed on Norwegian territory’, a decision that the country’s prime minister reiterated at a NATO meeting in December 1957. In 1960 it was specified that this policy applied in peacetime only. At the time, Norwegian government officials also repeatedly said that Norway would not allow visits by naval vessels that had nuclear weapons on board. In a more recent reiteration of the policy, a 2017 white paper on Norwegian foreign and security policy states that ‘nuclear weapons are not to be stationed on Norwegian territory in peacetime’ and, furthermore, that ‘foreign military vessels that call at Norwegian ports must not have nuclear weapons on board’. Norway did not enforce this policy during the cold war by preventing US surface ships—which no longer carry nuclear weapons but at the time would neither confirm nor deny they were carrying them—from entering their ports. Denmark did not enforce its ban on the transit of nuclear weapons on its territory either.  Iceland’s policy of not allowing nuclear weapons on its soil is less well known than that of the two other Nordic NATO members. It has, however, been consistently expressed by successive Icelandic foreign ministers since 1964 and codified in parliamentary resolutions since at least 1985. A 2016 resolution reconfirmed that part of the country’s national security policy is ‘To ensure that Iceland and its territorial waters are declared free from nuclear weapons . . .’.  Spain hosted US strategic bombers and nuclear-armed submarines during the dictatorship of Francisco Franco (1939–75). When Spain joined NATO in 1982, it did so on the condition—set by the Spanish parliament—that nuclear weapons would not be brought to the country. The 1986 referendum that confirmed the country’s NATO membership mentioned the prohibition of ‘the deployment, storing or the introduction of nuclear weapons in Spanish soil’ as a precondition to this decision. However, the transit of nuclear armed vessels through Spanish waters—which would have in any case been difficult to monitor—was not prohibited.  The political reservations of the four NATO member countries discussed above stand out as the most visible expressions of scepticism about the security benefits of extended nuclear deterrence within the alliance. The practical impact of such declaratory statements has been called into question by the case of Denmark, where the declaratory policy was contradicted by a clandestine agreement. That all of these countries—with the apparent exception of Iceland—have not ruled out the possibility of hosting nuclear weapons during times of war can also be seen to reduce the normative significance of their reservations about such hosting.  Legislation prohibiting nuclear weapons on national territory  Lithuania’s constitution unambiguously states that ‘There may not be any weapons of mass destruction’ on its territory. Although it is legally binding, applicable in wartime and would seem to represent the strongest stance possible against nuclear sharing, this prohibition is disconnected from Lithuania’s political statements, which are silent on this part of the constitution and have even, at times, highlighted the value of nuclear weapons to NATO’s deterrence policy. One explanation for this might be that Lithuania’s constitution—which was drafted in 1992 and thus preceded the country’s NATO accession in 2004—signalled sovereign independence from the Soviet Union rather than marked distance from NATO nuclear policies.  New Zealand is a former nuclear umbrella state that passed legislation against the introduction of nuclear weapons on its national territory in 1984. The country had been part of a trilateral defence alliance under the 1951 ANZUS Treaty. More specifically, New Zealand declared itself a nuclear weapon-free zone and introduced relevant legislation, including a prohibition on nuclear-capable vessels from entering the country’s ports. Given the US policy at the time of neither confirming nor denying its ships were armed with nuclear weapons, US Navy vessels could not dock in the harbours of New Zealand. In February 1985, New Zealand demonstrated its readiness to enforce its policy by turning down the request of a US missile destroyer to dock. The USA reacted by cancelling its security guarantee to New Zealand in August 1986. Although New Zealand signalled its willingness to remain part of the ANZUS Treaty, the position of the USA was that it was not feasible for an ally to enjoy the benefits of a conventional defence partnership while renouncing its nuclear dimension. As suggested by one observer, the USA’s severe response to New Zealand’s anti-nuclear policy reflected concerns by the USA that, if it would accept the policy, this ‘could generate eventual ripples of pressures for unilateral disarmament throughout other western societies’.  In sum, national legislation prohibiting the stationing and transit of nuclear weapons in or through a given umbrella state’s territory can be seen to constitute a strong prohibition against nuclear weapon hosting. Yet, the political significance of such a prohibition is diminished if not backed up by corresponding declaratory policy, as exemplified by the case of Lithuania. In contrast, the combination of legal and political prohibition and its practical enforcement by New Zealand was deemed excessive by the USA, which ultimately punished its ally by terminating the conventional security guarantee. A similar crisis over the transit of nuclear weapons is unlikely to occur today given that the USA stopped deploying nuclear weapons on surface ships in the early 1990s. Instead, potential controversies over allies’ anti-nuclear weapon policies are now more likely to arise in connection with their approach to the TPNW (see the section ‘Engagement of umbrella states with the Treaty on the Prohibition of nuclear weapons’ below).  Political decisions to end nuclear weapons hosting  By the end of the cold war, several nuclear weapon hosting arrangements had been terminated. Arguably, these arrangements were ended largely on the basis of unilateral decisions taken by Russia and the USA; however, in at least two cases—Canada and Greece—the initiative clearly came from host states.  Following a heated domestic debate and a change of government, Canada decided in 1963 to host US nuclear warheads that were to be fitted with the Bomarc anti-aircraft missiles that Canada had previously bought from the USA. However, only six years later, in 1969, a new Canadian government reversed the hosting policy. It did so in line with its ratification in that same year of the newly negotiated NPT (Canada was one of the first countries to ratify the Treaty). As a result, by 1972 all US nuclear warheads reserved for the anti-aircraft missiles had been withdrawn from Canada. However, the country retained nuclear-armed air-to-air Genie rockets deliverable by Voodoo aircraft until 1984.  Greece, which had hosted US non-strategic nuclear weapons since the early days of the cold war, decided at the turn of this century not to replace its ageing A-7E dual-capable aircraft with a new model that could have continued the country’s nuclear sharing arrangements with the USA. As a result of this decision, US nuclear weapons were quietly removed from the country in 2001, putting an end to the arrangements. The apparent lack of public discussion on the decision—or any discussion that reached an international audience—contrasts with the vocal but ineffectual calls made by Germany a decade later for the withdrawal of such weapons.  Calls to end nuclear sharing  The military value of the US non-strategic nuclear weapons in Europe was frequently called into question in the post-cold-war period, with arguments against them growing louder in the late 2000s. At this time, two successive German foreign ministers—Frank-Walter Steinmeier and Guido Westerwelle—openly called for an end to nuclear sharing in Germany. As Steinmeier said in 2009, ‘These weapons are militarily obsolete today’, which is why he would seek to ensure that the remaining US warheads ‘are removed from Germany’. The following year, Westerwelle said that the nuclear weapons in Germany were ‘a relic of the Cold War’ that ‘no longer serve a military purpose’ and that the German government was ‘working to create the conditions for their removal’ in cooperation with allies and partners.  In February 2010, Germany—together with Belgium, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Norway—wrote a letter to the NATO secretary-general calling for the inclusion of non-strategic nuclear weapons in arms control agreements. The Benelux countries and Norway also highlighted this issue in their national statements but more cautiously than Germany, often linking it to reciprocal steps being taken by Russia.  These high-level efforts to change NATO nuclear sharing practices ultimately proved unsuccessful. Ironically, the same US administration that arguably inspired the German position against the hosting of non-strategic nuclear weapons also strongly pushed back against this position. The former US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton responded to the above-mentioned letter by saying that ‘as long as nuclear weapons exist, NATO will remain a nuclear alliance’, stressing the importance of ‘sharing nuclear risks and responsibilities’. At the same time, she stressed the need for Russia to make reciprocal reductions as a condition for the withdrawal of tactical nuclear weapons from Europe. The definition of NATO as a nuclear alliance was included in its 2010 Strategic Concept, which ultimately made it harder for Germany to push for an end to nuclear sharing. Although the debate on the merits of nuclear sharing continued in the country after that, Germany’s continued participation in the practice appeared to be confirmed with the March 2022 decision to replace its ageing dual-capable Tornado aircraft with F-35s.  ‘Footnote politics’ in the 1980s By the early 1980s social democratic parties in Europe, particularly in the Nordic countries, had become critical of mainstream NATO nuclear policy, a sentiment that grew stronger during the early years of the US administration of President Ronald Reagan. Because of the leverage of a coalition of centre-left opposition parties over the liberal-conservative government’s foreign policy at the time, Denmark stood out from other NATO members by frequently dissociating itself from allied policy on nuclear issues. The Danish government—in addition to making public expressions of dissent— sometimes inserted footnotes in NATO communiqués, so its policy came to be known as ‘footnote policy’.  Initially, the most contentious issue for Denmark was NATO’s ‘dual-track’ decision, adopted in December 1979. This decision included a plan for the USA to deploy intermediate-range nuclear forces (INF) in Western Europe in 1983 unless the Soviet Union agreed to discuss its respective SS-20 missiles in arms control negotiations. The Danish foreign minister had proposed postponing the decision, but it went ahead. In a 1982 NPG meeting communiqué, Denmark added a footnote expressing support for the Soviet proposal for a compromise solution to the INF crisis. Denmark’s position deviated from that of the other NATO members—they supported the Reagan administration’s ‘zero solution’, which called for the elimination of all land-based INF missiles in Europe. Danish opposition to the INF deployments included a parliamentary decision to suspend their funding. When the INF missiles were finally deployed, Denmark dissociated itself from the NATO policy by placing a footnote on a NATO communiqué describing it.  Other issues of contention included the US request that NATO allies endorse its Strategic Defense Initiative, which both Denmark and Norway opposed through footnote politics, and the proposal for a Nordic nuclear weapon-free zone. Although the Danish government had for most of the 1980s been driven by the opposition parties to agree to implement the footnote policy, a 1988 parliamentary resolution that would have led to a stricter policy on port visits by nuclear-armed ships—similar to the legislation put in place by New Zealand—prompted the government’s call for a new general election, which ultimately put the social democrats at a disadvantage.  Engagement of umbrella states with the Humanitarian Initiative  One umbrella state, Norway, played a key role in an initiative highlighting the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons. The Humanitarian Initiative built on the 2010 NPT Review Conference final document, in which deep concern was expressed over the ‘catastrophic humanitarian consequences that would result from the use of nuclear weapons’, as well as on three conferences exploring the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons held in 2013–2014. By drawing attention to the humanitarian and environmental consequences of nuclear weapon use, the historical record of near misses, and personal accounts of the victims of past nuclear weapon use and testing, the Humanitarian Initiative questioned the legitimacy of existing nuclear deterrence practices, thereby paving the way for the TPNW negotiations. Norway was among the states that initially advocated for the inclusion of humanitarian language in the 2010 NPT Review Conference final document. In this it was inspired by the success of the humanitarian approach in bringing about the 2008 Convention on Cluster Munitions. Indicative of the Norwegian government’s goals at the time, in February 2010 the country’s foreign minister said that ‘experience from humanitarian disarmament should guide us on how to pursue and negotiate disarmament issues in general’, and that, although ‘Some maintain that consensus is vital when it comes to nuclear disarmament . . . I believe it would be possible to develop norms against the use of nuclear weapons, and even to outlaw them, without a consensus decision, and that such norms will eventually be applied globally’.  Norway hosted the first of the three above-mentioned conferences in March 2013. The conference was criticized by the five nuclear-armed Parties to the NPT (China, France, Russia, the UK and the USA) as ‘divert[ing] discussion away from practical steps to create conditions for further nuclear weapons reductions’. However, some of the nuclear-armed states participated in the third conference, held in Vienna in December 2014. Preparing the ground for the TPNW, Austria launched what eventually came to be known as the humanitarian pledge for the prohibition and elimination of nuclear weapons, which called for ‘effective measures to fill the legal gap for the prohibition and elimination of nuclear weapons’, at the conference.  Although Norway did not ultimately endorse the pledge, it had been one of the few nuclear umbrella states supporting the joint humanitarian statement, which preceded the pledge and stated that ‘It is in the interest of the very survival of humanity that nuclear weapons are never used again, under any circumstances’. Most NATO allies would not endorse this wording as it contradicts the basic principles of nuclear deterrence. In addition to Norway, Denmark consistently endorsed the joint humanitarian statement in 2012–2015, and Iceland and Japan joined them in doing so at the ninth NPT Review Conference, held in 2015.  According to one observer, the goal of a new treaty outlawing nuclear weapons had been ‘a key aim for the Norwegian centre-left coalition government from 2010 onwards’. However, following the 2013 elections that brought a right-wing coalition to power in the country, the Norwegian government began to dissociate itself from the humanitarian initiative. For example, at the 2022 NPT Review Conference Norway no longer supported the joint humanitarian statement, leaving Greece and Japan as the only umbrella states to endorse it.  Norway’s role in the humanitarian initiative demonstrates that umbrella states can play an instrumental role in shaping nuclear disarmament norms even in the face of opposition by their patron. However, it also shows how domestic political differences—arguably in combination with external alliance pressures—limits the sustainability of such revisionist policies over time. Engagement of umbrella states with the Treaty on the Prohibition of nuclear weapons  The TPNW challenges both the legitimacy and the legality of existing nuclear deterrence practices, which is why nuclear-armed states have fervently opposed the Treaty. The USA has also sought to ensure its allies do not join or in any way signal support for the treaty. However, some allies have found it difficult to fall into line with this policy owing to significant domestic support for the TPNW.  Meetings under the Treaty  Although none of the nuclear umbrella states supported the December 2016 UN General Assembly Resolution 71/258 that formed the basis for the TPNW negotiations, the Netherlands stood out from the others in that it abstained from voting rather than casting a vote against the resolution. The Netherlands was also the only umbrella state that took part in the two rounds of TPNW negotiations in 2017, although it did not support the adoption of the Treaty at the end of those negotiations. This deviation from US allied policy by the Netherlands has been explained in terms of domestic pressure from the Dutch parliament.  The Netherlands attended the First Meeting of States Parties to the TPNW, held in June 2022, as an observer, following a vote of the Dutch parliament mandating it to do so. Four other umbrella states (Australia, Belgium, Germany, and Norway) also attended the meeting as observers. Although observing TPNW meetings is not equivalent to supporting the Treaty, the presence of five umbrella states at the First Meeting of States Parties to the TPNW was particularly noteworthy given the 2020 North Atlantic Council statement upon the entry into force of the TPNW. This statement expressed NATO member countries’ collective opposition to the TPNW, which NATO saw as ‘not reflect[ing] the increasingly challenging international security environment’ and being ‘at odds with the existing non-proliferation and disarmament architecture’.  Official statements in support of the Treaty  In 2018 the Spanish government’s socialist minority agreed to sign the TPNW as part of a package of commitments adopted by the country’s prime minister and the leader of the far-left coalition party in exchange for the latter’s support for the following year’s budget. However, the government never acted on this commitment.  Also in 2018, the Australian Labor Party, in opposition at the time, committed itself to a policy of seeking signature and ratification of the TPNW if it were to be elected to government. The policy was initiated by Anthony Albanese, who became prime minister in May 2022. Although his subsequent rhetoric has been more cautious, in October 2022 Australia decided for the first time to abstain from voting rather than to vote against the annual UN General Assembly resolution in support of the TPNW. This shift prompted the USA to issue a warning to its ally, with the US embassy in Canberra saying that the Treaty ‘would not allow for US extended deterrence relationships, which are still necessary for international peace and security’. However, the US assessment of the compatibility between allied commitments and TPNW support appears to be contingent on political circumstances, as evidenced by the conventional alliance between the Philippines and the USA, which seems to be unaffected by the Philippines being a Party to the TPNW. In addition, some observers have suggested that the likelihood of the USA taking punitive measures against umbrella states that join the TPNW would depend on whether they were to join the treaty individually or as part of a group of several allies.  IV. Conclusions  While countries under extended nuclear deterrence arrangements retain their sovereign freedom of action, being part of a military alliance with a nuclear dimension contributes to a tendency for a country to side with its nuclear-armed patron on matters related to nuclear weapon and disarmament norms. This tendency may reflect genuine belief in the security benefits of nuclear deterrence or merely political pressure to fall in line with the views of allies, or both. Support for existing nuclear deterrence practices mostly takes a low-key, passive form but in some cases umbrella states have proactively supported such practices either politically or operationally. While such support tends to come with a reputational cost in multilateral forums and domestic politics, it also increases the status of the umbrella state within the alliance as a valued ally doing its part of the moral burden-sharing.  At times, however, umbrella states have used their freedom of action to take bold strides—or more modest steps—away from the allied mainstream position by advocating for anti-nuclear weapon policies, often reflecting popular sentiments that question the morality of nuclear weapons. Some of these policies—such as certain NATO members’ reservations regarding nuclear sharing—demonstrate that it is possible for a country to distance itself from nuclear deterrence practices while still remaining part of a military alliance. While the exceptional case of New Zealand, whose antinuclear weapon policies led to its banishment from the ANZUS alliance in the 1980s, was tied to past US nuclear weapon deployment practices that no longer exist, it set a precedent that may still add caution to the approach of umbrella states to potentially divisive issues such as the TPNW. Any punishment by the nuclear-armed patron could nevertheless be expected to be more lenient if several allies were to pursue an anti-nuclear weapon policy simultaneously—a development that might ultimately influence alliance policy by reducing the role of nuclear weapons. Absent such a prospect, allies face the challenge of balancing normative pressures to support nuclear disarmament with alliance commitments that require at least passive support for nuclear deterrence practices.

Defense & Security
Handshake between germany and italy flags painted on hands, illustration with clipping path

European Defence and Italian-German Cooperation in the Wake of Putin’s War

by Federico Castiglioni , Michelangelo Freyrie

Abstract The Russian invasion of Ukraine has inflicted a significant blow to the EU’s defence strategy, jeopardising its ability to contribute adequately to the transatlantic security architecture and slowing the development of a continental strategic autonomy. In view of this, Germany and Italy should strengthen bilateral defence cooperation, particularly regarding industrial and procurement policies. As Berlin and Rome are two pillars of Europe’s industrial defence basis, closer bilateral cooperation would facilitate EU defence consolidation and enhance Europe’s military credibility. The future Italian-German Action Plan, the specifics of which are still unknown, is an excellent opportunity to establish a joint defence strategy centred on sectors of mutual interest. 1. European defence after 24 February 2022  As we are writing, a full-scale war is unfolding in Europe, with a nuclear power as the aggressor. War crimes against civilians are being committed on a massive scale and – as of June 2023 – more than eight million refugees have crossed the borders to seek shelter in the EU. As put by the European Court of Human Rights, Russia’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine arguably represents the greatest challenge to human rights since World War II (WWII). The war has deteriorated the global security and macroeconomic environment, while inflation, food emergency and the worsening climate crisis are negatively reinforcing each other. The war deeply affected the European security architecture. In the years prior to the war, the Ursula von der Leyen-led European Commission had already been advocating for the Union to take significant steps to strengthen the EU’s position as a geopolitical player worldwide, establishing a series of tools – such as the European Peace Facility (EPF) and the Strategic Compass – to boost EU defence capabilities. The Russian invasion of Ukraine compelled the EU revise its plans, as it was clear that the bloc was far from prepared to face a crisis of such geopolitical magnitude right across its borders. Policies and tools designed well in advance to cope with hard security challenges would have certainly improved the efficacy of the European response. The absence of such supranational structures of political-military coordination opened the doors to centrifugal tendencies, only partially contained by the urgency to address the calamitous emergency of the conflict. Ostensibly, the inadequacy of the EU as a security provider is one of the key factors pushing some member states – and especially those on the Eastern borders – to rely even more on NATO as a guardian of stability.  The request to join NATO by the Finnish and Swedish governments in the face of the Ukrainian war might be interpreted as a negative signal for the credibility of the EU as a defensive alliance, weakening any perspective of Europe to develop an autonomous defence policy. And while the news may be welcomed by those who see NATO as the primary security provider for the continent, it is less enticing for the EU member states who are not part of the Atlantic Alliance. Contrary to the purpose of the two organisations to “play complementary, coherent and mutually reinforcing roles” on security issues, this cannot occur if European countries are unable to stand on their own two feet militarily and independently contribute to transatlantic security and burden-sharing.  Current EU defence arrangements are currently insufficient to strengthen a European pillar in NATO, let alone leaving the door open for true strategic autonomy. The practical objectives set out by the Strategic Compass (i.e., the creation of a rapid deployable force of 5,000 units) are obviously unfit to face major conventional military challenges stemming from Russia, but also from a potential conflict over Taiwan or in the Middle East and North Africa region (the latter of which features far less prominently in the latest NATO Strategic Concept). Against this backdrop, it is unlikely that in the near future the Compass will play a significant role in reshaping the organisation of CSDP missions of crisis management and capacity-building.  The war may also undermine the EU efforts to strengthen the European defence market, whose integration has long been welcomed also by the US. In this regard, the priority is arguably the development of the European Defence Fund. At the outset, this instrument had a dual purpose: promote the research and development of modern military systems required by the member states and nurture the intraEuropean supply chains. In other words, the EDF was devised to increase the competitiveness of EU defence companies while strengthening the European Technological and Industrial Base (EDTIB). The initial success of the EDF calls, which resulted in the funding of dozens of multinational initiatives, indicates at least some desire on the part of European companies and governments to invest in the project and embrace this political priority. However, already today the EDF budget of just eight billion euro over seven years is a far cry from the investment needed to reduce the fragmentation of a sector wherein the major EU players represent only a portion of the overall internal market. For decades, the EU defence industry has faced stiff competition from the United States, the United Kingdom, and even South Korea, to the point where many non-EDTIB companies now have profound roots in the procurement traditions of member states. As a consequence, the EU industry lags behind international competitors in key sectors such as disruptive technology, as the European Defence Agency (EDA) acknowledged last year. Aware of this situation, the EU Commission in 2022 launched the European Defence Industry Reinforcement through Common Procurement Act (EDIRPA), an instrument that should convey common procurement projects by providing the member states willing to cooperate with both financial incentives and a common procurement platform. However, this platform could even involve associated countries and thus bring into the EDTIB complementary contractors from the UK, Norway, Switzerland, or the US. The effect of this newly established strategy on the EDTIB has yet to be determined and will depend heavily on its implementation; the impact of both the EDF and EDIRPA will be limited if allocations go toward further fragmentation of military stockpiles and will spur additional duplication of capabilities across domains. The creation of a new European main battle tank (also called as the Main Ground Combat System – MGCS) is an example of the limited role that EU procurement might play in the near future. The MGCS has a history dating back to 2015, when it was evident that the EU tank fleet needed an upgrade to keep up with global competition and the EDA was tasked with the responsibility to coordinate the Member States’ investments in R&D. The effort to expedite the delivery of a new model was further accelerated in response to the Ukraine conflict. Yet, in 2022, the only tank project nearing maturity was the new “Panther”, which was the result of a unilateral German initiative led by Rheinmetall and Krauss-Maffei Wegmann. Considering that Italy and France chose to upgrade their legacy tanks and that the only quasi-European programme, the Franco-German MGCS, is hobbling back, the most likely outcome will be the widespread acquisition of nationally developed systems (including the Korean K2) instead of a common European design. Indeed, the never-ending debate over the development of the MGCS is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to concerns about the EDTIB’s future. Inevitably, the shipment of defence systems to Kyiv will deplete the EU member states’ strategic readiness. To fill the void, the EU nations will most likely initiate a new phase of national procurement to replenish existing stocks. If the procurement of these systems (primarily tanks, artillery, armoured vehicles, missile defence systems, man portable equipment and various kinds of ammunition) prioritises off-theshelf solutions, even if this is in accordance with EDIRPA guidelines, the European Defence Agency’s effort to achieve European interoperability that can embrace NATO standards will be jeopardised. 2. The Italian-German contribution to European defence cooperation  Italy and Germany seem to be on the verge of signing off on an “Italian-German Action Plan” for expanding bilateral cooperation, which is anticipated to encompass a variety of topics ranging from industrial issues to foreign policy. Among the sectors of envisaged cooperation, defence is one of the most prominent. Indeed, the two nations are pillars of the European Defence Industrial and Technological Base and home to renowned prime contractors such as Leonardo, Rheinmetall, ThyssenKrupp AG, and Fincantieri. The investments of these two nations in acquisition, research, and development represent a significant portion of total European military expenditures. This privileged position in the EU landscape makes even more significant the commitment of Rome and Berlin to increase their military spending as a reaction to the Russian aggression. Meeting in Versailles in March 2022, all the EU member states vowed to establish new capabilities and prepare strategic enablers to operate jointly whenever necessary. Nevertheless, the scale and time of this commitment differs between the two countries. Italy should in theory reach the NATO target of spending 2 per cent of its GDP in defence by 2028. The pace of such an increase is very much uncertain, and Italy’s defence budget remains deeply unbalanced, with substantial expenditures focused on personnel costs and few resources directed to exercise and maintenance. Instead, Chancellor Olaf Scholz’s Germany has responded to the Zeitenwende (“historical turning point”) of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine by setting up a one-off fund of 100 billion euro, the Sondervermögen (“special fund”), and a commitment to bring the Bundeswehr’s regular budget in line with the 2 per cent threshold for years. Yet, doubts exist on whether the fund will suffice given inflationary pressures and Berlin’s yawning gap in defence capabilities. It is estimated that Germany will likely need to spend some 300 billion euro worth to put the Bundeswehr in a position to once again be a credible military tool. Differences also exist in the strategic priorities of the two countries. Growing Italian defence investments over the last decade have focused mainly on improving the armed forces’ ability to project power into the “wider Mediterranean”, establishing for instance the carrier strike group Cavour and an amphibious landing group. Germany, on the other hand, is emphasising a return to territorial defence: it recently (re-) instated structures such as a territorial headquarter (Territorialen Führungskommando) for domestic operations and logistical support to allied operations in Europe, putting the Eastern flank front and centre in its strategic outlook.  The disparities in the two countries’ budgetary provisions are thus both qualitative and quantitative, as Italy’s stagnating defence expenditures are allocated differently than Germany’s growing defence budget. This must be balanced against differences in public opinion. Despite Russia’s aggression and the country’s international obligations, the majority of Italians oppose any increase in military spending. In contrast, the German electorate is experiencing change of heart, as it has abandoned long-standing scepticism defence matters and is now massively supporting the government’s stance on strengthening the national military capacity.  The was in Ukraine is offering the opportunity to the two nations to improve their complementarities in several sectors, starting with major investments to plug the holes in basic defence capabilities caused by underspending in ground-based air defence, an improved focus on dual-use technologies, and a promotion of a more integrated procurement process that prioritises ammunition and the development of strategic enablers such as cyber and space capabilities.  A comprehensive political-industrial-military approach would provide Berlin and Rome with a common ground for enhancing their strategic response to the unfolding crisis in Ukraine. Italy and Germany should focus on filling voids in the respective armed forces; more investments in dual technologies such as space capabilities and cyberwarfare, as well as other traditional domains, would also be essential.  The two countries should also commit to joint procurement as the only way to preserve and boost Europe’s Defence Industrial and Technological Base (EDTIB) in the aftermath of an unprecedented spike in demand for defence goods. The stir provoked in France and Italy by the German-led European Sky Shield Initiative, which appears to favour US- and Israeli-made ground-based missile defence systems at the expense of their European counterparts, is revealing: when there is an emergency, there are a few possible trading partners today that could be associated in procurement without compromising medium- to long-term development plans. Therefore, strengthened cooperation in the field of procurement would allow for more transparent communications with international partners, promoting the excellence of the two national industries without fuelling protectionist impulses which would waste resources (or efficiency) on short-sighted projects.  A holistic spending approach, seeking complementarity and rewarding the excellence of small and medium-sized businesses, would be advantageous to the majority of industrial sectors, given the number of prospective investment domains. Italy and Germany are home to a large number of small and mediumsized enterprises (SMEs) in the defence industry, and these firms frequently hold the keys to the two nations’ competitive advantage in sectors such as sensor technology and electronic and cyber warfare. Both nations have a vested interest in influencing European programs, such as the EDF, to more effectively stimulate innovation within their respective defence ecosystems.  Similarly, the two countries should create synergies within initiatives funded through the EDF. Italy and Germany are already working together in the European medium-altitude, long endurance, remotely piloted aircraft system (MALE RPAS) programme, which is a PESCO project co-financed through EDF and managed by OCCAR that has the objective to empower Europe with a modern and competitive intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance (ISR) system. Interestingly, both countries share similar sensitivities when it comes to the employment of armed drones, despite the fact that Italy decided to arm its drones without the decadeslong parliamentary and public debate that marked Germany’s decision to equip its own Heron TP drones with weapons. Moreover, both Rome and Berlin are extremely cautious when it comes to automation, and military interlocutors in both countries stress the importance of keeping a human in the loop.  Space is another area of potential cooperation. The protection of Italian assets (defence from kinetic attacks as well as cyber threats) feature prominently in Rome’s 2019 National Space Security Strategy. Cooperation with Berlin could boost complementarities in sectors with a strong electronics component. The two nations are jointly working on strategic enablers trough the Defence of Space Assets (DoSA), a PESCO initiative whose goal is providing training for space military operations, space resilience and access to space and in-space operation. Both of these projects – obviously started before the breakout of the Ukrainian war – are evidently connected with the upcoming defence challenges that Europe, and thus the two countries, will be facing in a next future. Cooperation is also feasible in the field of electronics, which entails crossdomain capabilities with dual-use benefits for the civilian sector. In this regard, Leonardo’s acquisition of Germany’s Hensoldt is encouraging, as it could facilitate the establishment of economies of scale in the field and pave the way for new collaborations in other industries. Notably, reciprocal support could be conceivable in the areas of avionics, manned-unmanned teaming and combat cloud technologies. Given Germany’s decision to purchase F-35 multirole jets to replace its aging Tornado fleet, Berlin could greatly benefit from Rome’s special relationship with the US and British aerospace industries, as well as its experience in the F-35 programme via the Cameri production facility. A further area in which cooperation should be reinforced is underwater technologies. In this field, Italian and German companies are already collaborating, and the realisation of the U212 NFS submarine is a good instance of the brilliant results that can be achieved together. Cooperation between Fincantieri and ThyssenKrupp could be furthered also considering the expanding interest in the underwater environment and research in underwater unmanned vehicles (UUVs). Italy’s long-standing necessity to protect its critical seabed infrastructure in the Mediterranean basin makes it an appealing partner to Germany, which is especially alarmed over potential repeats of the Nord Stream sabotage. The establishment of the German-led NATO Critical Undersea Infrastructure Protection Cell may offer some further chances of bilateral and multilateral cooperation in this regard.  Germany and Italy should also do more together on land systems, notably tanks and mechanised vehicles. Germany has a strong European lead in this realm, while Italy has some positive experiences with the Centauro and a non-negligible niche of turret making. The challenge will be to facilitate Italian participation in the Main Ground Combat System (MGCS) project, managed by the FrancoGerman consortium KNDS. From a German perspective, MGCS is supposed to eventually foster a Europe-wide consolidation of land systems technologies and production. An Italian contribution, joining the consortium and transforming it in a true European initiative, would be especially timely given the urgent need for Italy to modernise its armoured fleet, but also to raise Europe’s overall production capacities and match the mounting continental demand for tanks. Furthermore, Italy is currently examining options to create a new hub for land systems, in order to rationalise the current industrial supply chain and procure a successor to the Dardo infantry fighting vehicle (IFV). The offer by Rheinmetall to produce its new Lynx IFV in partnership with Italian companies within the national borders should be carefully considered in order to foster much-needed economies of scale in this domain. Another enticing area of bilateral cooperation for Berlin could be a partnership designed to support its decision to make the Bundeswehr greener. Germany has already demonstrated a developing awareness of the environmental impact of its military activities. This correlation is recognised by both NATO and the EU, and it is believed to be particularly significant in three fields (listed in decreasing importance): static pollution produced by military barracks and other defence buildings; pollution generated by the systems themselves and military mobility; and the dispersion of ammunitions or other wastes, particularly to sea. Italy, for its part, has already devised a strategy to address the dilemma between defence and the ecological transition. The lion’s share of this strategy consists of a plan to control the energy supply of all military installations on Italian territory, renovate vital defence-related infrastructures, and increase the military’s mobility’s sustainability. Research into alternative energy sources for the military, such as solar panels, may reduce the reliance of forward operational bases on petroleum runs, which are particularly susceptible to guerrilla attacks when deployed in contested territories. Conclusions and outlook The so-called Zeitenwende is proving to be all but easy to live up to for Germany, while Italy still has to prove it perceives any urgency when it comes to a change of pace in defence spending. In this situation, cooperation between the two states can help to alleviate the burden imposed by the radical changes both countries will need to implement in their defence policies. Both countries’ defence budgets are currently being increased, but while this was necessary after a long period of underfunding of the respective armed forces, it also comes with some risks. The primary danger is that both Berlin and Rome will use the concept of European strategic autonomy to appease national industrial champions rather than actually implementing plans to strengthen EU defence initiatives. Despite some positive signals, it is uncertain how much of Germany’s 100 billion euro special fund will be invested in multinational strategic armament projects. Similar risks are present in Italy, which badly needs to replenish its stocks after the latest shipments to Ukraine.  The authentic European commitment of the two nations should inevitably result in joint efforts, beginning with technological and industrial advancement. Italy and Germany have declared their willingness to increase their defence expenditures to 2 per cent of GDP, as agreed upon at the 2014 NATO summit in Wales. This old threshold, which after 24 February 2022 has become a starting point rather than a ceiling for many within the Alliance, will not necessarily enhance the EU’s defence profile. In contrast, national increases in the defence expenditures that are not coordinated may paradoxically be detrimental to the strategic autonomy of the EU. As a result of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the imperative need of many EU countries to purchase or upgrade weapons has a negative impact on the European industrial base. In the future, countries with a proclivity to cooperate, such as Germany and Italy, should maximise the potential of strategic, industrial and cultural synergies in the defence sector. This cooperation should begin as a bilateral effort within the framework of the forthcoming Italian-German Action Plan and, whenever feasible, translate into bilateral initiatives in the defence industry. Initiating pragmatic projects and generating industrial and political realities is the most effective method to advance European integration. This is something that can be accomplished more easily by beginning with a bilateral perspective while remaining open to the eventual participation of other EU nations.

Defense & Security
Ukraine map with the red pin showing Nova Kakhovka

What Ukraine dam breach means for the country’s counteroffensive and aid deployment

by Christopher Morris

The humanitarian and ecological challenges caused by the breaching of the Nova Kakhovka dam present massive challenges for Ukraine, as it launches its long-awaited offensive. Mounting operations to assist and evacuate civilians from affected areas will deplete manpower and resources when the conflict is at a critical juncture. This is to Russia’s advantage. While Ukraine has already deployed an emergency response, there is little indication that Russia has either the capacity or inclination to assist in the humanitarian effort. Thousands are expected to have to leave their homes as waters flood dozens of villages. Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky has already called on the international community to offer immediate aid. Kyiv and Moscow have both accused each other of bombing people being evacuated. The circumstances surrounding the destruction of the dam on the Dnipro River remain difficult to determine. But the incident is being discussed as a possible war crime and an act of terror, with Russia indicated as the likely perpetrator. While it will be some time before all the details are clear, the event is certainly going to influence events on the battlefield. An attack of this nature can form part of a military strategy. After all, the destruction of Irpin dam in February 2022 played an important role in checking Russian advances earlier in the conflict. In this case, however, the relatively modest military benefit in no way justifies the massive and far-reaching destruction unleashed by the floodwaters. The rising water levels caused by the damage will, of course, have some implications for the campaign. Downstream any crossing of the river will become difficult for the foreseeable future, with the surging waters damaging any remaining infrastructure. The flooded ground may struggle to bear the weight of tanks and artillery as well, limiting the potential routes south for an attacking force. The scale of the disaster introduces many human factors to the battlefield, with displaced civilians further complicating any operations in the region. The result is that a significant portion of the frontline is now difficult to access, leaving Russia with less space to actively defend. While these are significant considerations and will complicate the nature of the battlefield from the Ukrainian perspective, the fundamental balance of power in the region remains unchanged. Ukrainian forces have demonstrated their adaptability from the outset in this conflict, and this will serve them well in the next phases. Having taken the time to integrate the training and equipment received from western partners, the forces compromising the Ukrainian counteroffensive will be able to effectively adapt to events of this nature. Current operations show that Ukrainian land forces are effectively probing for Russian weaknesses  in the south and east. These smaller advances – so called shaping operations – which provide intelligence and fix Russian forces in place, are taking place across a wide front. Ukrainian leadership remain quiet on specifics, but when its more heavily equipped brigades do move forward, they will benefit from these earlier efforts to shape the battlefield in their favour. Russian troops overstretched The Nova Kakhovka dam’s breach will do nothing to improve the status of Russian forces. While in the short term, there is now perhaps less frontline to defend, their troops are still overstretched. The fractured Russian leadership will struggle to effectively respond to any setbacks, and the equipment and human resources they currently have available remain of poor quality. If Nova Kakhovka was an attempt to replicate earlier events, in which Ukraine submerged the Irpin floodplain to interfere with the Russian advance to Kyiv, then it has not been successful. If it was the eve of a Russian offensive, an event of this nature might have been disastrous for them, with their rigid command structures and traumatised land forces incapable of adapting on the fly. This is not Russia’s moment, however. For the Ukrainian side, this is a setback that can be overcome. As well as growing disparities in training and equipment, the incident highlights the profound difference in the mindset and ability to adapt between the respective sides. Unfortunately, we may see more attacks on Ukrainian infrastructure as the offensive presses on. The Russian state clearly prefers to break what it cannot control. While attacks on civilian infrastructure may have little impact on how the conflict plays out, the Russian strategy is now about inflicting pain on the Ukrainian side by any available means. This could indicate that Moscow no longer views these areas as future Russian assets that can be assimilated relatively intact, but instead as areas it can devastate to harm the interests of the rightful owner.

Energy & Economics
Hand of man with a credit card using an atm man using an atm machine with his credit card

Coping with Technology Sanctions in the Russian Financial Sector

by Alexandra Prokopenko

The Russian financial sector has taken a double hit from sanctions – both in infrastructure (affecting financial transactions) and in technology (affecting the hardware and software). Infrastructural sanctions imposed by Western countries in reponse to the war on Ukraine (de-SWIFTing, overcompliance, and breaking of correspondent relationships) affected their operational activity. Moreover, the Russian government banned the use of foreign software and equipment imports, which has been a drag on business development. The financial sector was able to withstand the first shock. However, the most recent restrictions on access to advanced technologies, especially from the US and the EU, will lead to import substitution based on technologies of yesterday.  - Since the war began, every second Russian company has lost tech support and access to cutting-edge technology. - Import substitution leaves tech companies scrambling for what they can get, not what they actually want or need, and stunts business development. - The financial sector is shifting from creating innovations to ensuring technological security and supporting current operations. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, a coalition of Western countries led by the European Union and the United States imposed a large array of sanctions. Since then, the Russian financial sector has taken a double hit, namely sanctions on the infrastructure, affecting financial transactions, and on the technology, like software and hardware, it needs to operate. Infrastructure sanctions restrict banks’ ability to make payments (disconnection from the SWIFT global payments system and overcompliance). Technology sanctions create hindrances to technical upgrades and innovation. Before the war in Ukraine, the Russian financial sector was a world leader: it was third in financial technology penetration, in the top 10 in digital banking development, and fourth in the transition to cashless payments during the pandemic. Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the imposition of sanctions in 2022, it has lost this competitive position.   The sanctions against Russia’s financial sector have largely isolated Russia from access to the global financial system. Inside Russia, however, only a small fraction of Russians have felt these restrictions. Russian payment infrastructure was and remains resilient primarily due to the financial messaging system (SPFS), the Russian equivalent of SWIFT, which was developed in 2014 and through which banks are required to exchange data within Russia. In 2022, traffic in the system increased by 22 percent. There are currently 469 participants, including 115 non-Russian banks from 14 countries. Among the foreign countries, banks in Belarus, Armenia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Switzerland are connected to the system. Due to the risk of new sanctions, Russia’s central bank does not disclose detailed statistics. Direct messaging channels allow for direct international transactions with those banks connected to the SPFS, including those bypassing SWIFT. Minimizing the damage of sanctions that target Russia’s financial sector infrastructure is considerably more difficult. Former partners, even in friendly jurisdictions like some post-Soviet countries, have been slow to help Russia with system-level transactions. It will take considerable time to build new payment infrastructure channels, as the technological constraints are much more difficult. The lack of access to modern technology keeps banks’ IT systems in their current state and impedes fintech development and innovation. Pain and Risk About 85 percent of software used in the Russian financial sector is produced abroad. For hardware, the situation is even worse. Only large-scale assembly takes place in Russia. For this reason, the departure of companies that ensure the viability of the financial sector has been particularly painful for the financial sector - companies like Oracle, SAP, Cisco, IBM, Intel, AMD, Diebold Nixdorf and NCR (ATMs). Every second Russian company was left without technical support after the war began. For Russian banks, it was impossible to quickly switch to domestic solutions, as the right quality and scale were simply not available on the market. Virtually all operations of a modern financial institution, from client services to internal operations, are heavily dependent on the smooth operation of software and equipment. This makes the financial system particularly vulnerable on the technological side. Banks and non-financial institutions may face operational risks due to the lack of servers and software. This could make systems more vulnerable to cyber-attacks, raise the risk of technical failures due to a shortage of equipment and maintenance specialists, and require failing equipment to be replaced with either used Western-made products or Chinese analogues. The Bank of Russia, which supervises the financial sector, pointed out these risks for the first time almost a year after the invasion. Import Substitution Software The withdrawal of foreign companies has left the Russian financial sector with a huge gap in software and services. Also, in October 2022, the government banned Russian banks from using foreign software, a rule that applies even if there are no domestic equivalents. This has forced critical information infrastructure facilities to urgently seek domestic solutions. The combination of these two factors has given a boost to software development in Russia. Thus, according to Ilya Sivtsev, CEO of Astra (developer of operating systems and PostgreSQL database management system (DBMS) based on open source code), the company’s revenue in 2022 doubled to over RUB 6.5 billion (USD 65 million) and the share of its revenues from the financial sector increased from 4 to 22 percent. Astra’s outlook for 2023 is for double-digit growth.  Astra’s figures generally reflect the situation in the Russian IT market in 2022: there was rapid growth due to the departure of foreign competitors. As Deputy Prime Minister Dmitry Chernyshenko, who oversees the industry, reported, IT firms in 2022 grew revenues by 35 percent and earned RUB 2.38 trillion (USD 27 billion). Despite the reduced presence of foreign companies, turnover in the Russian IT market has grown. Switching to Russian software instead of foreign software may not be the most significant challenge, but it is an expense that businesses could have invested in furthering business growth. With all the advantages of the Russian DBMS, migration from the US-made Oracle software may lead to performance degradation of 30-50 percent. This is a serious limitation for the financial sector, whose mission-critical core system (processing, the core of an automated banking system) requires high-speed interaction with databases. The banking applications must also be transferred to the new DBMS. In addition, information security risks that could jeopardize the stability of the financial system have increased. The massive migration to new IT solutions reduces the cybersecurity of the entire system. The growth of the Russian software market is limited by two factors: the Russian government’s permission for companies to use unlicensed foreign software and the country’s own borders. Before the war, Russian IT companies were rather active on the markets of neighboring countries, providing various services (e.g. 1, 2, 3 )–from the integration of IT systems and products to the provision of services to companies and private customers. Russian solutions were often cheaper and technical support in Russian was an important advantage in the regional Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) market. And while Russian companies were also looking to expand abroad before the war, they will now have to compete there with Western companies that have left the Russian market and whose technological development is not restricted by sanctions. The relationship between customers and integrators running programs to implement products from different vendors has also changed. The customers say, “I want it like SAP, but faster and better,” while the integrators say, “My offer is limited, so take what I have or you will run out too.” In other words, customers have to accept a downgrade in software and hardware capacity for certain technologies. Import Substitution and Hardware Because it was not profitable, the equipment needed for  assembly in Russia is not produced in the country. Until 2022, only large-scale assembly from imported components was carried out in Russia. And the financial sector is not the only one waiting for servers, storage systems, controllers and components – industry, the public sector and retailers are also in line. In their search for equipment, Russian companies have turned to parallel imports, obtaining what they need from countries that have not imposed sanctions. They have also acquiesced to lower requirements for equipment quality and delivery deadlines. However, there are no systemic solutions or supply lines yet. Right at the beginning of the conflict, the US applied the Foreign Direct Product Rule (FDPR) mechanism to Russia. The FDPR prohibits exports to sanctioned countries of equipment that US companies were involved in developing or manufacturing – thus it affects companies outside the US in so-called third countries. This mechanism is primarily aimed at keeping the defense industry from importing technology. However, civilian products that can be classified as “dual-use” (military and civilian) are also largely subject to the restrictions – including the kinds of equipment needed by the financial sector. That has made systematic and large-scale purchases much more difficult. Third countries are willing to restrict technology exports to Russia, and the US is constantly updating its sanctions lists to include intermediaries. Nevertheless, loopholes in sanctions frameworks and delays in sanctions decisions allow Russia more room to adjust, finding new partners in Asia or new ways to bring hardware to Russia. Chinese partners, for example, support Russian companies not only with equipment but also with chips. Shipments of microchips and other semiconductors from China to Russia  are 2.5 times higher than than pre-war level; China now accounts for more than 50 percent of semiconductor imports to Russia. By the end of 2022, China supplied 40 percent of Russia’s imports and purchased 30 percent of its exports, and the RMB had become the only (albeit less convenient due to its incomplete convertibility) alternative to the euro and dollar for Russia’s international payments. In 2022, trade turnover between the two countries reached an astronomical USD190 billion, and it is quite likely that within these imports are sanctioned goods that Russia desperately needs. Reports that China is helping Russia circumvent sanctions, especially in the technology sector, are mounting. The Russian IT sector’s focus on Chinese suppliers and their products – from servers and data center equipment to bulk purchases of consumer electronics – reflects Moscow’s growing and asymmetrical dependence on Beijing. For second- and third-tier Chinese companies, this opens up opportunities to enter the Russian market. For example, Sber, Russia’s largest bank, is testing its own custom-made laptops. Sber’s partner, the Chinese company Shanghai IP3 Information Technology, is a contract manufacturer that takes orders for electronic devices and commissions them from Chinese production facilities. Whereas before the war Russian companies were free to choose their equipment and electronics suppliers, taking advantage of the wide supply on the market to obtain favorable prices, the choice has now narrowed to Chinese manufacturers. The lack of alternatives also forces them to accept less attractive terms. Innovation Inhibited The sanctions bottleneck in both hardware and software is shifting the focus of IT specialists in the Russian financial sector from creating innovations to ensuring technological security and supporting current operations. The most prominent example is the introduction of payment stickers for Russians who can no longer make contactless payments with their smartphones. A payment sticker has an embedded near-field communications (NFC) chip that exchanges data with a payment device. In other words, it is a bank card chip stuck onto an iPhone, as iPhone owners are considered to be the highest-paying target group, and banks have a vested interest in maintaining the usual number and volume of card transactions. Android smartphone owners will still have the option of making contactless payments via a MirPay wallet linked to their domestic payment system card. Frank RG, the Russian financial information publication, estimates that 12 of Russia’s 25 largest banks already offer stickers to their customers. Tinkoff, the leader in innovative banking, plans to issue over 1 million stickers by July 2023. At state-owned Sberbank, over 100 000 people applied for stickers within three hours of their offering. Issuing stickers is more expensive for the bank than standard payment card issuance, bankers acknowledge. Russian financial institutions have become so similar to IT companies that they are almost indistinguishable. Sberbank alone employs 38,000 IT specialists, Sberbank President Herman Gref reported to Vladimir Putin in March 2023. Besides the purely financial challenges, such as ensuring the sustainability of the payment infrastructure, the financial sector needs to work with the IT industry on providing non-sanctioned hardware and software, finding indigenous solutions to replace Western ones, and localizing instead of scaling up. An important but not decisive obstacle to innovation is the mass exodus of IT professionals. Competition for the remaining specialists is fierce and will only increase. The government is making gigantic efforts to keep the remaining skilled workers in the country. The slowness in changing the taxation of departing Russians seems partly related to the fear that most foreign IT professionals who continue to work in Russia will no longer do so. Prospects for the Financial Sector The Russian financial sector’s resilience to sanctions on its financial infrastructure has been limited to Russian territory. The sanctions have largely isolated Russia from the international financial infrastructure. Russia’s demand to allow banks to use SWIFT (e.g. under the Grains Agreement) is a clear indication of this. Technological restrictions and the withdrawal of Western companies from the Russian market may seem less painful at first glance, but this is not the case. Their impact is longer-term: declining quality of hardware and software, forced investment at IT, cybersecurity, and operational risks. And while infrastructural constraints have had only a temporary impact on the ability of the financial sector to operate smoothly, technological constraints have significantly limited its potential for growth and development. The Russian financial sector’s dependence on foreign, especially Western, software and hardware manufacturers is high. This poses a significant risk to Russia’s financial stability, especially if Western countries tighten sanctions against the Russian IT sector.

Energy & Economics
round icons with European Union and Venezuela flag exchange rate concept

A Critical Juncture: EU’s Venezuela Policy Following the War in Ukraine

by Anna Ayuso , Tiziano Breda , Elsa Lilja Gunnarsdottir , Marianne Riddervold

The war in Ukraine accelerated a global energy crisis just as the world was beginning to recover from the Covid-19 pandemic. Venezuela has the largest crude oil and the eighth largest gas reserves in the world and can therefore offer an alternative for Europe to replace its fossil fuels imports from Russia. The problem is, of course, that EU–Venezuela relations have been in a sorry state since the EU denounced President Nicolás Maduro’s re-election in 2018 as neither free nor fair. Since then, the EU has adopted targeted sanctions against the Venezuelan government, thus adding to the maximum economic pressure that former US President Donald Trump imposed on Caracas in an attempt to fatally weaken Maduro. This approach has yielded no result in that respect, and the war in Ukraine, and its energy security implications for the EU, creates the occasion for a revision of EU and US strategies. The hope is that a “more carrots, less sticks” approach could convince Maduro to engage in meaningful dialogue with the opposition. The EU must seize this opportunity of rapprochement and readiness and push forward the recommendations put forth in its electoral observation mission’s report of 2021, reconcile internal disputes to focus on the big picture, give momentum to dialogue efforts, consolidate support among regional allies and rekindle its efforts towards humanitarian relief.A failed pressure strategyVenezuela used to be among the most prosperous countries in Latin America, but is now home to one of the largest external displacement crises in the world next to Syria and Ukraine, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. When he came into power in 2013, President Maduro inherited from his predecessor Hugo Chávez a country in economic turmoil, high in debt and on an increasingly authoritarian track. The slump in oil prices in 2014 added fuel to the fire, prompting a wave of unrest to which Maduro responded with repression. He then tried to replace the democratically elected National Assembly, which had an opposition majority, with a loyalist Constituent Assembly in 2017. But it was after the 2018 presidential election, when Maduro secured a second term in what are widely considered rigged elections, that Venezuela descended into a full-blown political crisis. Juan Guaidó, speaker of the National Assembly, used a constitutional clause to declare himself interim president until new elections could be held, backed by more than 60 countries worldwide. In the following years, various negotiations attempts between Maduro and the opposition failed to solve the country’s political dispute, prompting fatigue in the opposition ranks while eventually consolidating Maduro’s authoritarian grip. As the political crisis unfolded, the EU and the United States responded with sanctions against the Maduro regime, although with different goals. The Trump administration pursued regime change through a maximum pressure strategy. Instead, the EU combined targeted restrictive measures with humanitarian aid and support for dialogue and mediation efforts. EU efforts have been hampered by: internal divergences, especially on the recognition of Guaidó as interim president; multipolar competition and the perceived excessive proximity with the United States; and regional fragmentation and polarisation. Sanctions have failed to produce substantial change as Russia and China, and to some degree Iran and Turkey, have continued trade (including in oil) and strengthened economic ties with the Maduro regimeHow has the EU mitigated constraining factors on its policy?There have been two issues over which the EU struggled, even failed, to reach consensus. The first was the recognition of Guaidó as interim president. While most member states eventually did so, Italy and Cyprus dragged their feet, until the issue became irrelevant in early 2021 when the term of the National Assembly of which Guaidó was speaker expired. EU divergences stemmed from the political composition of member state governments and their view of the EU’s role in the world. Left-leaning governments in the EU tended to frame the recognition of Guaidó as a US-led, “interventionist” initiative, while right-leaning governments advocated a confrontational approach to Maduro, including through the recognition of Guaidó. It was a missed opportunity to show EU unity and put the spotlight on the EU’s difficulty to reach agreement over its foreign policy. Second, internal disagreements within EU institutions and member states revolved around the opportunity to send an electoral observation mission to local and regional elections in November 2021, out of fear that this could whitewash the Maduro regime. The mission eventually garnered enough support to be deployed and was later largely perceived as a success by EU member states. The EU electoral observation mission (EOM) produced a report with recommendations that have become the benchmark for the conditions for a free and fair election in the agenda of the Mexico-based talks between the government and the opposition. The region’s fragmented and polarised approach to the Venezuelan crisis has been another factor hampering EU efforts. Trump’s push for regime change, embraced by most Latin American countries led by right-wing governments in 2019–20 (crystallised by the creation of the so-called Lima Group) exacerbated geopolitical tensions in the region. The EU-backed creation of the International Contact Group (ICG) in 2019, which aimed to promote dialogue but did not bear fruit because it coincided with the recognition of Guaidó and the EU's rapprochement with the Lima Group. Regional polarisation was epitomised by the appointment of a Guaidó representative in the Organization of American States, despite Maduro’s decision to withdraw from the pan-American body, and the prolonged stalemate in the Community of Latin American and Caribbean states (CELAC). The EU was dragged into a polarisation spiral where its policies were associated with those of the Trump administration, even though they had different objectives. Besides, Trump’s policy of maximum pressure as an instrument for democratisation proven ineffective in a context of geopolitical competition with China and Russia. Their support for the Maduro regime allowed it to survive, even though at the cost of the country’s descent into economic disaster. Russia in particular also invested political capital by participating in the Mexico talks as the government’s accompanying country.A changed scenario, a new strategy?President Biden’s election and Latin America’s shift towards the left created openings for a more constructive international engagement with Venezuela, which have further widened after the outbreak of the Ukraine war, providing the EU with a new set of foreign policy options. The EU and the US, together with Canada and the United Kingdom, have signalled a willingness to agree to conditional sanctions relief. The Biden administration has permitted American oil company Chevron to resume limited oil operations in Venezuela in exchange for an agreement by Maduro and the opposition to continue dialogue after a year of stalemate. The talks have made no progress other than an agreement to turn up to 3 billion US dollars of frozen government fund into aid to be distributed by the UN and the International Red Cross to alleviate the domestic humanitarian predicament. Although a more concessions-based foreign policy towards Venezuela may not lead to the regime change some have hoped for, it could still make Maduro willing to allow for fairly free and democratic elections in 2024, when his second term comes to an end. However, it is clear that the humanitarian crisis will not be over shortly, and the implementation of the 2022 agreement between government and opposition is proceeding slowly. Increased EU humanitarian aid could help promote goodwill in Venezuela and in the region, and thus is not solely to be considered an altruistic gift, but an important part of the EU’s foreign policy arsenal. Finally, Venezuela and the broader region of Latin America and the Caribbean is not only important due to its natural resources, but an important political partner for the EU in its bid to defend a rule-based global order. This has become ever more evident since the war on Ukraine, which has seen some Latin American countries refusing to pick sides. Over the last few years the political landscape in Latin America changed with the election of leftist presidents in almost all countries in the region, with interest in seeking a negotiated response to the crisis in Venezuela. The International Conference on Venezuela convened by Colombian President Gustavo Petro in Bogotá in April 2023 is an illustration of the region’s renewed engagement on the issue. The upcoming EU–CELAC summit in July, the first in eight years, is an opportunity to engage with regional partners to foster political cooperation on global and regional issues, including Venezuela. The EU’s pragmatic rapprochement with Venezuela offers the prospect for some progress in the negotiations between government and opposition, but it should not be perceived as a relegation of EU’s commitment to democratic norms. The EU should not waste the opportunity to step up its diplomatic engagement with the region and coordination with the US and like-minded countries to ensure that Maduro concedes a real level playing field for the 2024 elections while at the same time pursuing its strategic goal of diversifying energy supplies. This article is brief published under JOINT, a project which has received funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under grant agreement No 959143.