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 Meanwhile in the Mediterranean, where the EU and its member states have withdrawn Search and Rescue missions and criminalised civil society organisations (CSOs) that have stepped in to fill this void, at least 2367 people were left to drown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

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

Since 1999, China has expressed its readiness to sign the SEANWFZ Protocol and is the only Nuclear Weapon State willing to do so without reservations. This Long Read explores China’s strategic considerations behind this stance. INTRODUCTION The Southeast Asia Nuclear Weapon-Free Zone (SEANWFZ) or Bangkok Treaty was signed on 15 December 1995 by the ten Southeast Asian states and entered into force on 28 March 1997. The States Parties to the Treaty are therewith obliged to ensure peaceful use of nuclear energy, and not to develop or acquire nuclear weapons, test nuclear explosive devices, or dump radioactive wastes within the zone. The Treaty includes a Protocol that is open to accession by the five recognised Nuclear Weapon States (NWS or P5), namely China, France, Russia, the United Kingdom (UK) and the United States (US), whose support and recognition are critical to the efficacy of SEANWFZ. The NWSs’ accession to the Protocol would entail their obligation to respect the Treaty, refrain from acts that may violate the Treaty, and provide negative security assurances (NSA), i.e., not use or threaten to use nuclear weapons against the SEANWFZ States Parties and within the zone. SEANWFZ is one of five nuclear weapon-free zones (NWFZ), which are seen as providing “the regional pathway” towards the ultimate goal of a nuclear weapon-free world. SEANWFZ was also considered an interim measure towards achieving the 1971 Zone of Peace, Freedom and Neutrality (ZOPFAN). Spearheaded by Malaysia, ZOPFAN aimed to achieve a Southeast Asia “free from any form or manner of interference by outside powers” but its realisation has been elusive, given that Southeast Asia is historically and geographically intertwined with the major powers’ strategic interests, and some regional states still maintain security alliances or close security ties with external powers. ZOPFAN’s ahistorical idealism was embedded in SEANWFZ’s key provisions regarding its expansive geographical coverage and the extensive scope of the NSA. This is the underlying reason for the lack of progress in getting the P5 – except China – to sign its Protocol up to now. China has been an outlier among the P5 in that it has expressed its intent to sign the Protocol since the late 1990s, shortly after the Treaty’s entry into force. The regional security environment has since deteriorated drastically with the intensification of US-China strategic tensions. Yet, China’s interest in SEANWFZ remains strong, and arguably has even increased as it sees itself as the target of a US-led strategy of “containment, encirclement and suppression”. This Perspective examines the legal and geopolitical intricacies of SEANWFZ that underlie China’s longstanding willingness to sign its Protocol in contrast to other NWSs. It argues that beyond non-proliferation considerations, supporting SEANWFZ serves China’s security interests amid its heightened tensions with the US and its allies. THE LONG JOURNEY OF GETTING THE P5 TO SIGN THE PROTOCOL The SEANWFZ States Parties – which are also the ten ASEAN member states – have held many consultations with the NWSs to persuade the latter to accede to the Protocol. The NWSs have objections and concerns regarding some substantive provisions of the Treaty and its Protocol (Table 1). • Expansive geographical scope Article 2 of the SEANWFZ Treaty states that the Treaty and its Protocol shall apply to the territories, exclusive economic zones (EEZ) and continental shelves (CS) of its States Parties. The inclusion of EEZ and CS is a unique feature of SEANWFZ that exceeds the standard coverage of only territories as in other NWFZs. It also goes beyond the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) which prescribes the sovereign rights of a coastal state only with respect to the living and non-living resources in its EEZ and CS. The legal regime of EEZ and CS under UNCLOS is a delicate balance between the rights of coastal states and the freedoms of ocean user states. It remains a subject of contention between the majority of UN members, which hold that all states have the right to conduct military operations in any EEZ, and a minority of around 20 states (including China and some Southeast Asian states such as Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand), which impose restrictions on military operations by foreign powers in their EEZ. The inclusion of EEZ and CS in the geographical coverage of SEANWFZ is even more problematic due to the unresolved competing territorial and maritime claims in the South China Sea (SCS) among some Southeast Asian states and China. • Port visits and transit rights Article 3.2 of the Treaty forbids a State Party from developing, manufacturing, possessing, having control over, stationing, transporting, testing or using nuclear weapons. The US, UK and France maintain that there is a conflict between this article and Article 7 on the prerogative of a State Party to allow visits by foreign ships/aircraft to its ports/airfields or their transit in its territorial sea. These NWSs want to ensure that the Treaty would not impinge on their port visits and transit rights in the region (since these NWSs maintain the policy to neither confirm nor deny [NCND] the presence of nuclear weapons at a given location, the possibility that their visiting/transiting ships/aircraft in the region are nuclear-armed cannot be entirely ruled out). They insist on a clarification to ensure that Article 7 takes precedence over Article 3.2.• Extensive negative security assurances The NSA clause in the SEANWFZ Protocol requires that the NWSs commit not to use or threaten to use nuclear weapons against any SEANWFZ State Party and not to use or threaten to use nuclear weapons within the zone. The latter part – “within the zone” – is problematic to the NWSs on two levels. First, the geographical application of SEANWFZ is not only expansive (involving the EEZ and CS of its States Parties) but also indeterminate (because of the territorial and maritime disputes in the SCS). Second, it would mean that an NWS cannot use nuclear weapons against another NWS within this expansive and indeterminate zone and cannot use nuclear weapons from within this expansive and indeterminate zone against targets outside the zone. This is well beyond the NSA that the NWSs traditionally extend to other NWFZs, which is limited to not using or threatening to use nuclear weapons against the territories of the zonal countries. • China’s sovereignty and maritime interests Unlike France, Russia, the UK and the US (the P4), China rarely stakes out its position with regard to the above-mentioned outstanding issues. China’s only stated concern vis-à-vis SEANWFZ is that the Treaty and its Protocol might contradict or undermine its territorial and maritime rights and interests in the SCS. To address this concern, during the consultations in 2010-2012, the SEANWFZ States Parties and China agreed that they would sign a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) stating that the Treaty and its Protocol shall not affect their respective territories, EEZ and CS. Table 1: Outstanding Issues Regarding NWS’s Accession to the SEANWFZ Protocol Source: Author Despite several consultations between the SEANWFZ States Parties and the P5 held in the late 1990s and early 2000s, these outstanding issues were not resolved, and the matter was put on the backburner. The momentum to get the P5 to sign the Protocol was revived in 2010-2011, in part due to the importance that the Obama administration accorded to strengthening the international non-proliferation regime. To address the outstanding issues, the SEANWFZ States Parties and the P5 negotiated a revised Protocol to the effect that: (i) in the EEZ and CS of the SEANWFZ States Parties, the P5 shall adhere to only Article 3.3 of the Treaty that bans the dumping of radioactive material/wastes; (ii) the SEANWFZ States Parties shall retain the prerogative to allow port visits and transit of foreign ships/aircraft pursuant to Article 7; and (iii) the P5’s NSA commitment shall be limited to not using or threatening to use nuclear weapons against the SEANWFZ States Parties. The scheduled signing of the revised Protocol by the P5 in July 2012 was forestalled by the reservations lodged at the eleventh hour by France, Russia and the UK. Some reservations by France or the UK state that accession to the Protocol shall not impair a NWS’ right of self-defence; a NWS can retract/review its obligations vis-à-vis a SEANWFZ State Party that ceases to be a party to the NPT, or breaches its non-proliferation obligations under the SEANWFZ Treaty, or develops other weapons of mass destruction. The most controversial reservation was made by Russia, which stated that it would not consider itself bound by the Protocol if a Southeast Asian state allowed foreign ships/aircraft carrying nuclear weapons to enter its territorial waters/airspace or to visit its ports/airfields. Given the NCND policy of some NWSs, the Russian reservation would put undue pressure on the SEANWFZ States Parties and challenge their prerogative to exercise their rights under Article 7. Due to the objection of some SEANWFZ States Parties to some or all of these reservations, the P5’s accession to the Protocol was put on hold, and the issue has been in hiatus since 2012. CHINA’S POSITION AND INTEREST VIS-À-VIZ SEANWFZ China’s readiness to sign the Protocol is a longstanding position that was registered as early as 1999. Beijing has indicated on various occasions that it is willing to be the first NWS to sign the Protocol, and to do so without reservations. The Chinese intent was reiterated by Chinese Foreign Minister Qin Gang during his meeting with the ASEAN secretary-general in March 2023. This article argues that China adopts a favourable approach towards SEANWFZ because the Treaty fits in with its nuclear doctrine and national security strategy, and accession to the Protocol could provide both geostrategic and diplomatic dividends for China. China’s No First Use policy China’s nuclear doctrine has been evolving in keeping with its growing nuclear capabilities and the changes in its external security environment. Yet, it still retains the self-defensive posture and the policy of unconditional No First Use (NFU) of nuclear weapons, which is reiterated in China’s 2019 Defence White Paper: “China is always committed to a nuclear policy of no first use of nuclear weapons at any time and under any circumstances, and not using or threatening to use nuclear weaponsagainst non-nuclear-weapon states or nuclear-weapon-free zones unconditionally (emphasis added).” To China’s credit, it is the only P5 country maintaining an unconditional NFU policy, which makes the Chinese nuclear doctrine less aggressive than those of other NWSs. Since China’s NSA commitment to Southeast Asian countries is well within the bounds of its NFU policy, its accession to the Protocol is more straightforward than that of the P4. China’s sea-based nuclear force China’s self-defensive nuclear policy seeks to maintain a “lean and effective” nuclear deterrence based on first-strike survival and second-strike capabilities. In the nuclear triad of an NWS – i.e., land-based nuclear missiles, strategic bombers, and ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) – SSBNs are considered “the primary guarantor of second-strike capabilities” given their advantages in stealth and survivability. However, noisiness is the Achilles’ heel of Chinese SSBNs – from the Type 092 Xia-class in the 1970s-1990s to the newer Type 094 Jin-class – which makes them vulnerable to anti-submarine warfare and limits their ability to navigate far beyond the Chinese shores. It should be noted that the Chinese submarine fleet is home-ported at Yulin Naval Base on Hainan Island in the SCS; given its expansive claims in the SCS, China could justify the presence and operations of its SSBNs in these waters as falling well within its sovereignty and jurisdiction. Meanwhile, if the P4 respected the expansive geographic coverage of the SEANWFZ Treaty and the extensive NSA in the original Protocol – which is extremely unlikely, if not impossible – it would significantly undercut the deployment of their nuclear assets – particularly SSBNs – in a large swathe of maritime area in China’s southern vicinity, which would in turn enhance China’s strategic security and the defence of its sea-based nuclear deterrence. China’s anti-access/area-denial strategy China’s support for SEANWFZ is rooted in the strategic assessment that such an extended zone – if implemented – would contribute to the country’s anti-access/area-denial (A2/AD) strategy which is aimed at denying the military power projection of superior adversaries in China’s near neighbourhood. Apart from investing in anti-ship, anti-air, anti-ballistic weapons and anti-submarine capabilities for its A2/AD system, China has also fostered regional arrangements and agreements that could be leveraged to delegitimise or discredit the military presence of foreign powers in the region. These include the SEANWFZ Treaty, as well as China’s proposal for a treaty on good neighbourliness, friendship and cooperation with ASEAN, China’s attempt to prevent Southeast Asian countries from conducting military exercises with foreign powers through a code of conduct in the SCS (COC), and its recent Global Security Initiative that embraces the ‘indivisible security’ concept. China’s sovereignty and maritime claims in the SCS Theoretically, if all NWSs accede to the SEANWFZ Protocol, they would be bound by the same legal obligations therein. However, the strategic security effect for the P4 and China would be significantly different because only the latter is located within the region. While the P4 are concerned about the undefined geographical scope of the zone due to the ongoing territorial and maritime disputes in the SCS, such ambiguity may work to China’s advantage. China has excessive sovereignty and maritime claims within its Nine-Dash Line that covers around 90% of the SCS. The coverage of China’s claims has been extended further with its ‘Four Sha’ concept whereby China asserts all maritime zones, including internal waters, territorial seas, contiguous zone, EEZ and CS, based on the so-called “four outlying archipelagos” in the SCS (Pratas, Paracels, Spratlys and Macclesfield Bank), which it is not allowed to do under UNCLOS as a continental state. China has demanded that an MoU be signed to ensure that neither the Treaty nor the Protocol shall affect its territory and maritime entitlements. This would effectively guarantee China’s free hand in defining the geographical scope of SEANWFZ in a flexible and selective manner that best serves its interests. For example, China may challenge nuclear deployments of other NWSs in the zone as violations of SEANWFZ but it can justify the presence of its nuclear assets in the zone on the grounds that such deployment takes place within China’s (claimed) territory and jurisdiction. Responsible nuclear weapon state discourse Since France, Russia, the UK and the US do not accept the extraordinary terms of the SEANWFZ Treaty and its original Protocol regarding the inclusion of EEZ and CS and the NSA commitment within the zone, SEANFWZ has no legal effect in preventing these countries from deploying their nuclear assets in regional waters beyond the territories of its States Parties. However, by signalling its readiness to sign the Protocol first and without reservations, China can turn SEANWFZ into a discursive and political weapon to project itself as a responsible nuclear power and claim the moral high ground in criticising the nuclear policy of the US and its allies as well as their nuclear assets in regional waters. Hence, SEANWFZ – and China’s interest in signing its Protocol – has gained greater salience in China’s regional diplomacy after the launch of the Australia-UK-US (AUKUS) tripartite security partnership in 2021, which aims to provide Australia with nuclear-powered (but conventionally armed) attack submarines. The Chinese government believes that AUKUS would “form an underwater military encirclement against China”. It has also argued that AUKUS violates the nuclear non-proliferation regime and has invoked SEANWFZ to criticise the deal. In March 2023, the Chinese foreign ministry spokesperson said that AUKUS “undercuts ASEAN countries’ effort to establish SEANWFZ and seriously undermines the ASEAN-centred regional cooperation architecture in East Asia”. Chinese commentaries state that China’s willingness to sign the Protocol is a manifestation of its “due responsibility as a major power that seeks peaceful development” and contrasts its position with the “irresponsible behaviours of the AUKUS countries”. CONCLUSION The SEANWFZ States Parties maintain a longstanding position that all outstanding issues with the NWSs should be resolved in a ‘package deal’ so as to enable their accession to the Protocol concurrently. Therefore, China has not been able to sign the Protocol despite its express intent to do so for decades. However, the rapidly deteriorating global strategic environment may warrant a rethink by the SEANWFZ States Parties on the ‘package deal’. The US and Russia – the two largest nuclear powers – have taken steps to walk back from their arms control obligations, including US withdrawal from the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) Treaty and Russia’s suspension of its participation in the New START. Closer to home in East Asia, the race to develop nuclear capabilities is gathering pace. China is expanding and upgrading its nuclear arsenal and may become an atomic peer of the US and Russia by the 2030s, according to the US’ 2022 Nuclear Posture Review. America’s withdrawal from the INF raises the concern that Washington may introduce short-range ballistic and cruise missiles in Asia. The US’ Asian allies, while stopping short of developing nuclear weapons, are re-arming themselves to deal with nuclear threats (Australia with nuclear-powered attack submarines, Japan with counter-strike capabilities, and South Korea with submarine-launched ballistic missiles and its public debate on the need to acquire nuclear weapons). They are also seeking to consolidate the US’ nuclear deterrence umbrella in the region. Most ominously, Russia’s nuclear blackmail in its war against Ukraine draws home the vulnerabilities of non-nuclear-weapon states in the face of great-power bullying. Against this backdrop – and with China’s diplomatic activism – the SEANWFZ States Parties may drop the ‘package deal’ approach to pave the way for China’s accession to the Protocol. After all, it is a common practice that NWSs accede to other NWFZs’ protocols at different points of time. Apart from China’s NSA – which is already covered under its NFU policy – China’s accession would add a legal guarantee that it would not dump radioactive wastes in the zone, exert political pressure on other NWSs to follow suit, and raise the profile of SEANWFZ at a time when “the risk of nuclear weapons use is higher than at any time since the Cold War”. Yet, China’s accession would raise several legal and policy questions for the SEANWFZ States Parties. First, should China sign the original Protocol or the revised Protocol? Since the original is a non-starter for the remaining NWSs, using the revised Protocol would minimise legal complications when the SEANWFZ States Parties re-negotiate with them in the future. It is also important to ponder the implications of the above-mentioned MoU which would give China a free hand in defining the geographical scope of SEANWFZ in ways that serve its interests, possibly at the expense of those of SEANWFZ States Parties and other NWSs. Last but not least, China’s accession to the Protocol would be a strategic and diplomatic win for Beijing in its enduring quest to displace external military power from the region. In the final analysis, China values SEANWFZ not only because it is a regional non-proliferation regime per se but because its terms serve China’s strategic security in discrediting the nuclear forward deployment by foreign powers in China’s near neighbourhood. Now, as before, SEANWFZ States Parties remain confronted with the chasm between their nuclear weapon-free aspirations and their security interests from a balance of power in the region. This is as much a problem of strategic incoherence among the States Parties themselves as it is about their substantive differences with the NWSs.

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

After many years of struggle against Islamist terrorism, the invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 was an electric shock for France. The country now seems more committed to a reinforced Euro-Atlantic security partnership. Since 2012, France has been under a constant threat of Islamist terrorist attacks. These reached their peak in 2015 with the deadly assault on the Charlie Hebdo newspaper in January and at the Bataclan theatre in November. These threats explain why the French government has decided to intervene where terrorists are most likely to proliferate – the goal being to neutralise them before they could reach France or other European countries. The two regions where the French military have operated against terrorists have been in the Middle East and the Sahel. Meanwhile, the relationship between Paris and select NATO allies have to led to some difficult diplomatic tensions. “What we are currently experiencing is the brain death of NATO,” Emmanuel Macron told The Economist in October 2019. At the time, the United States (US) had failed to consult NATO before pulling forces out of northern Syria, while Turkey – another important NATO ally – pushed inside Syria, threatening US and French interests with no reaction from the alliance. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine modified Paris’ defence and foreign policy but perhaps not enough to face the challenges ahead. France and NATO: A difficult partnership Following the “brain death” episode, the tensions between France and Turkey escalated and reached a peak in June 2020 when, according to the French Navy, a Turkish ship flashed its radar at the French vessels during operation Sea Guardian. This mission was a NATO maritime security operation in the eastern Mediterranean, deployed after the United Nations imposed an embargo on arms supplies to Libya. Once again, NATO did nothing to reprimand Turkey for its anti-alliance behaviour. These episodes are just two in a long series of tensions between France and NATO. It is rather well known that France and some of its NATO allies have been barely civil since the end of the Cold War; the most complicated relationship being the one with the US. If Macron has been frustrated at the absence of a reaction from the alliance, France has also manoeuvred to upset its allies also. To understand France’s at times awkward relationship with the US, one must note that there are strong French political currents opposed to a supposed American hegemony. The far left and the far right are the most obvious, but even moderate conservatives may sometimes adopt a discourse reminiscent of Charles De Gaulle from the 1960’s that pushed France outside of NATO’s integrated command. Today, those against “Atlanticism” are either anti-capitalism (far left), pro-sovereignty (far right) or for national or European independence (conservatives). They all share a more-or-less anti-liberal ideology and they all tend to perceive Russia positively. The far left seems to think Russia is the successor of communist Soviet Union. The far right and the conservatives are fond of Putin’s anti-Islam discourse and his defence of traditional values. Meanwhile, many people serving in the French military are also sympathetic to Russia. This broad support for states that may “resist US hegemony” in France may explain the initial moderation of president Macron’s position vis-à-vis Russia. This anti-American sentiment is reinforced by the fact that France still seems to see itself as a major player in international relations. In April 2023, after a visit to China, Macron told journalists that Europe must resist becoming America’s “vassal.” This infuriated many allies in Europe, North America, and Japan, and it did nothing to strengthen European defence capabilities or strategic autonomy, paradoxically one of Macron’s goals before going to China. NATO: The inescapable actor According to President Macron himself, the war in Ukraine revived the “brain-dead” NATO. On the other hand, it seems to have had the opposite effect on French ambitions to be a central global player or a European security leader. Declarations regarding security guarantees to Russia, and the fact that France has contributed relatively less to the defence of Ukraine than some of its allies, have weakened its stature in Europe. That’s why Paris seems ready to work more closely with NATO, even if some incoherence still weakens the clarity of the message. Three things point in the direction of greater cooperation between France and its NATO allies. The first, following Macron’s speech in Bratislava in May 2023, is the new Loi de programmation militaire (military programming law) for military manoeuvres. The best example of recent joint military manoeuvres is ORION 2023 that started in 2021 and was terminated in May 2023. These were the largest exercises in thirty years for the French military and they involved, in their final phase during the Spring 2023, around 14 allies, including Indian air force Rafale jets. In ORION, France proved it was ready to act as a NATO framework-nation in a high-intensity-warfare scenario. This reassured France’s allies who were rattled by president Macron’s various statements since 2019. With its departure from the Sahel, France has at last been able to focus more seriously on European security. Another signal pointing at a switch in the French posture towards Transatlantic security was Macron’s speech in Bratislava. The French president wanted to reassure his allies about the role of NATO in European security. He did not emphasise “strategic autonomy,” preferring to highlight the importance of becoming better allies to the United States. He even mentioned that Vladimir Putin’s aggression in Ukraine had revived NATO. The last element regarding France’s decision to play a more constructive role in Transatlantic security is the military programming law for 2024-2030. At first sight, this law is impressive: with an estimated cost of €413 billion over the next seven years, this would bring the defence budget to €69 billion in 2030, up from €44 billion in 2023 and €32 billion in 2017. The problem is that, like Germany or the United Kingdom (UK), we don’t know if this new money will really boost European military capacity. In the case of France and UK, a large part of the military budget is dedicated to nuclear deterrence rather than for the needs of a high intensity conventional conflict like the one in Ukraine. What is more, inflation will chew through a relatively important part of this new budget. It is an important question then to ask if the new defence budget will boost France’s conventional military capacity to face a high intensity conflict in Europe or other technological capabilities to help project power far from France’s borders. Only time will tell. But allies must keep an eye on what the French government does rather than on what it says. With the importance of the populist and radical political movements, and also the constant threat of terrorism, a return to self-centred defence and foreign policy is always a possibility.

Egypt is advancing an initiative with Hamas and Islamic Jihad for a long-term ceasefire for Gaza; Israel is not directly involved in these talks. Although the chances of a hudna are slim, Israel would do well not to reject the Egyptian initiative and should, rather, enable the economic projects it includes At a meeting in Cairo in early June 2023, Egypt presented leaders of Hamas and Islamic Jihad the framework for a hudna in the Gaza Strip, i.e., a long-term ceasefire. Israel is not officially involved in the initiative, which would bring it some clear benefits, including prolonged security calm and Cairo’s willingness for deeper involvement in Gaza. These benefits are not obviated by the fact that Hamas would also benefit from the initiative, which includes plans for broader infrastructure and economic projects, providing the organization with an opportunity to continue its political and military intensification. Nonetheless, Hamas is not enthusiastic about the Egyptian initiative. In any case, Israel would be well advised not to oppose the initiative, even though it involves giving up on three principles: (1) Israel would presumably give a “green light” to Hamas and Islamic Jihad to continue to execute terror attacks in Jerusalem, the West Bank, and Israel itself, as well as from southern Lebanon. (2) Israel would concede its demand that any arrangement include the return of soldiers’ bodies and civilians held hostage in Gaza. (3) The lack of an effective response to Hamas and Islamic Jihad’s growing strength would continue. On June 4-6, 2023, senior Hamas and Islamic Jihad leaders visited Cairo at the invitation of Major General Abbas Kamel, the director of the Egyptian General Intelligence Directorate. The Palestinian delegation was headed by Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh (accompanied by his deputy, Saleh al-Arouri, and the head of the organization’s “external” bureau, Khaled Mashal), and the leader of Islamic Jihad, Ziyad al-Nakhaleh. At the meeting, the Egyptians presented an initiative for a long-term ceasefire – a hudna – in the Gaza Strip. Discussions were influenced by the results of Operation Shield and Arrow, which highlighted Israel’s capability to carry out targeted killing operations, as well as by the atmosphere of recent agreements across the Middle East, leading to reduced tensions and violence. The basis for the discussions was a proposal for a long-term ceasefire coupled with Cairo’s willingness to help calm the security situation on the Gaza front and participate in reconstructing the area, with the political support of the United States and financial assistance from Qatar. Cairo’s motivation for becoming more involved in Gaza lies in the economic and political rewards it would enjoy in this context, as well as its success in launching local infrastructure projects. For example, three Egyptian construction projects of high-rise housing in Jabaliya and Bet Lahiya in the northern Gaza Strip have already reached an advanced stage and are nearly ready for occupancy. Similarly, there are plans to develop the a-Rashid coastal road, which runs parallel to the sea in northern Gaza. The Egyptian Initiative includes the following projects: ● Expansion of the el-Arish port in the northern Sinai Peninsula, allowing it to become a cargo port for all of the Gaza Strip; a paved highway for trucks to enter Gaza; and expanded trade between Egypt and Gaza via the Salah al-Din crossing. ● Connected electricity systems that would distribute power from Egypt to the Strip. ● Development of the Gaza Marine natural gas field that lies off the coast of the Strip. This would require the involvement of the Palestinian Authority, since the PA is recognized as the Palestinian government, which has the rights to the gas reserves. It is possible that this is reason that Palestinian Prime Minister Mohammad Shtayyeh visited Cairo a week before the Hamas and Islamic Jihad delegations. ● Establishment of a free-trade zone between the northern Sinai and the Gaza Strip. ● Egyptian insistence that the Palestinian Authority remain in the picture by reestablishing its control over the Palestinian side of the Rafah border crossing between Hamas-run Gaza and Egypt – just as it was until four years ago. It was also reported that to enable the conditions for long term ceasefire in Gaza, Egypt, in its talks with Iran, demanded that Tehran refrain from using its proxies – primarily Palestinian Islamic Jihad – and that it do nothing to undermine the nascent agreement between Cairo and the Palestinian factions that are under the influence of the Islamic Republic. At this stage, Israel is not directly involved in the talks, but it has apparently been briefed about them. As part of the Egyptian proposal, Israel will be required to make certain commitments, including adhering to a long-term ceasefire, refraining from carrying out targeted killing operations against senior Palestinian commanders, further easing of the restrictions on movement of people and goods from Gaza into Israel, and agreement on gas production from Gaza’s exclusive economic zone.                                                Perspectives The absence of two important Palestinian leaders from the meeting in Cairo – Hamas leader in the Gaza Strip, Yahya Sinwar, and President of the Palestinian Authority, Mahmoud Abbas – suggests that Egypt exerted no pressure on the Palestinians regarding internal reconciliation or elections. It is much more convenient for Sinwar to allow Hamas’s external leadership to be in the front of the negotiations so that he will not have to explain the missing elements in the hudna settlement, including the release of Palestinian prisoners held by Israel and the total lifting of what they see as the Israeli siege of Gaza. In his current situation, Abbas is not a relevant actor on the Gaza front, with the exception of the agreements over gas production, and it even seems that Cairo has given up on its efforts to persuade him to promote intra-Palestinian reconciliation. The Egyptian incentive includes the promotion of Egyptian economic projects in the Gaza Strip, which will be highly beneficial to Cairo (expansion of the el-Arish airport and electricity infrastructure in Rafah and el-Arish, construction of a highway to allow quick access for goods, and development of the Gaza Marine gas field). In addition, the most recent round of fighting between Israel and Islamic Jihad in May – which coincided with Ramadan – made it clear to Egypt the challenge in mediating in an event with multiple actors and addresses, some of whom are located outside the Gaza Strip and are under the influence of Iran and Hezbollah. Therefore, Egypt wants to make the rules of the game clear yet again: as far as it is concerned, there is only one Palestinian actor that is responsible for what happens in the Gaza Strip, namely Hamas. Moreover, it wants to safeguard its exclusive role as mediator with Israel. The Israeli game: It is convenient for Israel to remain outside of the negotiations – certainly the open talks – whether or not by choice. This frees Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu from having to explain to his radical right partners in the coalition why Israel is making deals with Hamas and why the agreement does not include the return of captive Israelis and the bodies of Israeli soldiers held by Hamas. In addition, Egypt is responsible for all the initial elements of the agreement, so Israel can downplay the significance of what it is being asked to concede (beyond the understandings that currently exist, especially its policy vis-à-vis the border crossings and permits for some 18,500 Gazan laborers to enter Israel). Israel is not being asked to change its policy on the Temple Mount or in Jerusalem, or to limit its own freedom of operation to conduct counterterror missions. Consequences if Egypt Succeeds in Achieving a Hudna 1. Strengthening Hamas’s role in the Gaza Strip: Hamas is the force factor with which Israel must advance a long-term ceasefire in Gaza, while neutralizing Islamic Jihad. Hamas would benefit from the arrangement, with the continued easing of the closure of Gaza and the implementation of infrastructure and economic projects in the region – without any commitment to Israel that it would refrain from supporting terrorism in Jerusalem, the West Bank, inside Israel, and from southern Lebanon. Saleh al-Arouri will be free to continue initiating terror attacks and preparing for further violence during Ramadan next year. At the same time, Hamas will retain its bargaining chips – the missing Israelis and the bodies of fallen soldiers. Similarly, an agreement of this kind – especially if the United States is involved, even with a low profile – will increase the legitimacy and international recognition of Hamas. 2. Deeper Egyptian involvement in Gaza and Cairo’s willingness to engage in the Gaza quagmire: The greater Gaza’s dependence on Egypt, the less it will rely on Israel. At the same time, Egypt has not shown particular effectiveness when it comes to prevention of arms smuggling via Sinai into Gaza. The concern is that the expansion of trade and movement of goods from Sinai will provide increased opportunities for smugglers, while Israel’s ability to respond to such incidents would be limited because of its reliance on Egypt and the desire to maintain the special relationship with Cairo. 3. Israeli tension between the expected benefits and the price it will be asked to pay: On the one hand, Israel would consider it an achievement if there were a long-term ceasefire in Gaza and if its own responsibility for the Strip were reduced. On the other hand, this would reduce Gaza’s dependence on Israel, which would lose whatever influence it has over events in Gaza. In addition, the prevalent Israeli belief is that improving the economic conditions in Gaza is the way to rein in Hamas, which is why it supports easing the closure for civilian matters and the ongoing reconstruction of Gaza. However, if the proposed Egyptian ceasefire is accepted, the extreme right wing elements in Netanyahu’s government are likely to oppose any Israeli concessions, such as a sweeping easing of the closure or Israeli approval for a Palestinian gas field – without a deal that includes the missing and fallen Israelis. 4. Can the rogue elements be contained? One precondition for implementation of a long-term ceasefire is that Islamic Jihad accepts the authority of Hamas and Tehran agrees to this, at least tacitly. However, it is not clear to what extent Iranian influence over Islamic Jihad would be curbed, also in light of the improved bilateral relations between Cairo and Tehran. 5. Another stage in the increasing irrelevance of the Palestinian Authority: A negotiated ceasefire on the Gaza front would be another nail in the coffin on the Palestinian Authority, which fails to reap any significant economic or political benefits – comparable to those that Hamas will enjoy if the proposed ceasefire comes into effect – in the territories under its control. Against this backdrop, Hamas is likely to intensify its efforts to take control of the Palestinian Authority the day after Abbas is no longer in power. Conclusion and Recommendations The Egyptian initiative on a hudna in Gaza does not include any measures to curb Hamas’s consolidation or to limit its freedom of operation on other fronts, and it does not advance a deal for the return of missing Israelis and the bodies of fallen soldiers. Moreover, the hudna would ensure the survival of Islamic Jihad and other terrorist groups in the Gaza Strip. One of the main demands that Islamic Jihad made before agreeing to the May 13 ceasefire that ended Operation Shield and Arrow was an end to the Israeli policy of targeted killings against its senior militant commanders – to which Israel responded, “Quiet will be met with quiet.” If a hudna is achieved, Islamic Jihad – like Hamas – will have the freedom to rebuild its ranks and its military capabilities It seems doubtful that Egypt will manage to broker a long-term ceasefire, especially given Hamas’s likely rejection. Notwithstanding the benefits that a hudna would give Hamas, the organization might find it acceptable if it felt it was in a position of inferiority vis-à-vis Israel – but that is not the case today. The Hamas leadership believes that the organization’s strength on the Palestinian and regional fronts is growing, while it believes that Israel’s strength is waning and that its international and regional influence is on the decline. Therefore, Hamas will likely prefer to maintain the status quo of “quiet,” with certain embellishments that would allow it to continue reconstructing the Gaza Strip, increase its own military strength, and solidify its political position – but without being asked to make any ideological compromises or grant any rewards – even indirectly – to Israel or the Palestinian Authority (e.g., the gas field). Although the chances of the Egyptian hudna initiative bearing fruit are slim, Israel should refrain from opposing it, and it should likewise support the expansion of Egyptian infrastructure and economic projects in Gaza. Improved living conditions in the Strip and increased Egyptian involvement will advance Israel’s strategic goals – ensuring long-term quiet and deepening the rift between Gaza and the West Bank. The continued promotion of the Egyptian initiative would allow Israel to examine whether Hamas is motivated enough to exercise control over the “rogue” terror organizations in Gaza – mainly Islamic Jihad – and to what extent Sinwar is committed to security quiet in the long term. At the same time, in order not to invalidate the hudna, Israel will have to come to terms with the following: continued freedom of operation for Hamas and Islamic Jihad to commit terror attacks on other fronts; improvements for Hamas in Gaza without a solution to the issue of the missing and fallen Israelis; and the absence of an effective solution to the growing military power of Hamas and Islamic Jihad.

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.

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.

The lack of active intervention by Hamas yet again in the recent round of fighting in Gaza heightens the question of a long-term arrangement regarding Israel and the Gaza Strip. Is an idea of this sort viable? What might be its limitations? With the end of Operation Shield and Arrow – the most recent round fought between Israel and Islamic Jihad in the Gaza Strip – talk of a hudna or an extended arrangement at the Israel-Gaza border resurfaced. The discourse is driven by the fact that as in the two previous rounds, Hamas did not take an active part. Nonetheless, is highly doubtful that Hamas’s non-intervention is an indication of its desire for quiet. More likely, it points, rather, to new understandings with the resistance front, whereby all elements can be involved, even without actual participation in the fighting. Moreover, Hamas’s room for maneuver may prove limited, should an expanded arrangement be cast by its rivals as a separate understanding with Israel, which goes beyond the familiar temporary nature of ceasefire agreements. Therefore, Israel, which does not intend to reinstate its rule over the Gaza Strip and is not using terms like “political process” or “agreement,” would do well to continue with the current format of quiet arrangements vis-à-vis Hamas. This means reducing the threat posed by Gaza and providing for the daily needs of its population, while trying to improve the situation in the region.  The end of the most recent round of fighting with Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ) in Gaza – Operation Shield and Arrow (May 9-13, 2023) – has restored the issue of the Gaza Strip to the agenda, accompanied by several old ideas: hudna, or ceasefire, or in more general terms, “arrangement,” whereby Hamas is recognized as the responsible entity and the Gaza Strip receives additional benefits regarding reconstruction, construction, and employment, as well as freedom of movement to and from the Strip. In return, Hamas would commit to maintain calm for years to come, and not merely weeks or months. Supporters of this move claim that it may also help address the complex situation expected after Abu Mazen departs the political scene, since coordination between Israel and Hamas may assist in shaping the Palestinian reality during the transition phase. Bolstering the logic of “arrangement” is that this was the third time since 2019 that Hamas has refrained from intervention in the conflict between Israel and Islamic Jihad, leaving the latter group alone in the fight. It follows that more than escalation, Hamas seeks reconstruction and the improvement of daily life for the Gaza Strip population. Proponents of this policy are encouraged by the coordination between Hamas and Israel, established through Egyptian mediation following Operation Guardian of the Walls in 2021, which has enabled the entry of laborers into Israel and goods into the Gaza Strip. In their view, Hamas’s conduct reflects responsible governance and the desire to preserve its rule; these outweigh the spirit of “resistance” and translate into care for the population and efforts to increase the sources of income and enhance the volume of trade. Hamas’s efforts to restrain PIJ attempts to fire rockets at Israel during this period; the criticism and rage expressed by PIJ leaders regarding what to them is the “poor performance” of Hamas leaders; and the damage to the “resistance” have strengthened arguments in favor of an arrangement. According to Arab media, the visit by the heads of Hamas and PIJ in Egypt, which began on June 2, is also intended to enhance the calm and expand the reconstruction of the Gaza Strip, likely in coordination with Israel. Indeed, since Operation Protective Edge, in Islamic terms, Hamas has demonstrated far-reaching pragmatism toward the conflict with Israel– for the benefit of the Gaza population, and the Palestinians in general. The vast destruction and the blow it sustained in 2014 have led the organization to diversify the forms of its struggle against Israel and adopt patterns of a popular struggle, at least temporarily. In May 2017, following lengthy internal debates, Hamas released a new political platform, which, as its leaders claimed, replaced its original charter and has served as a guiding plan, albeit without abolishing the charter itself. The document stated that according to the national unity and consensus principal, Hamas would be willing to cease its armed resistance or shift to popular resistance, and even settle for a state within the borders of June 4, 1967, without recognizing Israel or signing a peace treaty with it, as long as such a decision was a national decision endorsed by the Palestinian people, and not by the organization alone. In May 2018, two days after clashes between Palestinian demonstrators and the IDF along the Gaza Strip border fence, which claimed the lives of many Palestinians, Yahya Sinwar, the leader of Hamas in Gaza, declared that Hamas had chosen the path of popular resistance, as this was “the most appropriate form of struggle for the time being.” Since then, and until 2021, Hamas has focused most of its efforts on the internal Palestinian political scene. Hamas has repeatedly made it clear that it cannot liberate Palestine alone through armed resistance, just as Fatah could not reach a peace agreement with Israel through negotiations on its own. At the same time, Hamas sought national reconciliation and strove for elections, in which, as its leaders believed, it would score an impressive achievement that would help it become a part of the national leadership and ultimately assume control. However, Abu Mazen waylaid these plans, canceling the elections in 2021. He forced Hamas to change its strategy and in effect caused the outbreak of the Guardian of the Walls clash, which took place in multiple arenas – the Gaza Strip, the West Bank, and within Israel proper. Hamas has been trying ever since to avoid a confrontation within the Gaza Strip and shift the conflict to the West Bank, where it attempts to incite the population to act against the Palestinian Authority, and even bring about its collapse. However, it is doubtful whether this chain of events validates the ideas of an arrangement in their current form. First, following Operation Shield and Arrow, the question remains whether Hamas truly avoided taking any part in it and whether this “non-intervention” caused it to lose some of its power, and whether Islamic Jihad, which suffered most of the blows during the fighting, was actually weakened as a result. Indeed, comments made by senior PIJ and Hamas figures after the fighting create the impression that at least in terms of public image, Hamas’s non-intervention benefited both organizations, and the fact that PIJ stood up to Israel alone strengthened its position in the eyes of many Palestinians. Spokespersons for both organizations have made it clear that this marked the formation of a new modus operandi, whereby not all organizations take part in the fighting at the same time but rather support it, each in its own way, be it through a joint war room, spokesmanship, or public support. Comments made by senior figures, including PIJ Secretary General Ziyad al-Nakhala and Mousa Abu Marzouk, one of the leaders of Hamas, do not reveal any tension between the organizations, but rather understandings tailored, in their view, to the current state of affairs. It seems that both organizations have managed to preserve their power to a large extent. Nevertheless, while Hamas is still setting the rules, it will be required from now on to cope with Islamic Jihad, especially when an attempt is made to consolidate the idea of an arrangement into a binding agreement of a more formal nature than the “calm in exchange for calm” principle. Large-scale settlement involving the construction of new infrastructure and a seaport and the opening of the Gaza Strip for exit and entry of people and goods has political attributes. Even a limited arrangement based on mutual consent – namely, de facto Israeli recognition of Hamas as the responsible, let alone sovereign, entity in the Gaza Strip – is not a trivial matter for Hamas. Furthermore, Hamas is in ongoing competition with the Palestinian Authority for the heart of the public. Notwithstanding its limited resources, it enjoys wide popularity, which creates a balance of power between these two organizations. A more comprehensive arrangement might force Hamas to face accusations of having preferred separate arrangements with Israel, and just like its rival Fatah, plays into Israel’s hands and enables it to proceed with its divide and conquer policy. The strategy formed by Hamas in recent years is intended to handle such accusations, which it has faced since it took control of the Gaza Strip in 2007. Therefore, Hamas can be expected to ensure that any move taken in coordination with Israel in the Gaza Strip will be of a security-related and humanitarian nature and lack political implications. Israel has proven in action rather than rhetoric that it has no intention of returning to the Gaza Strip. This directive has guided the Israeli security establishment since 2005, and has not gone unnoticed by the Palestinians. (The voices in the extreme right calling for the return to Gaza are not perceived by the other side as a viable challenge.) Consequently, Hamas can afford not to meet the expectations without the risk of an Israeli response, as happened during Operation Shield and Arrow, when it did not prevent Islamic Jihad from firing rockets, while it continues to encourage and guide acts of terror in the West Bank. This fact, and mainly Hamas’s attitude toward PIJ in the Gaza Strip, may also point to the limits of its restraining power. That said, it is unthinkable that Israel would not demand, as part of an expanded arrangement, a resolution to the issue of its captive citizens and missing soldiers, as well as a complete cessation of involvement in terror in the West Bank or any other region. It is highly doubtful whether Hamas could accept such demands, and this puts the very feasibility of a broader arrangement in question. Consequently, Israel must acknowledge the current reality, where due to the split among the Palestinians, Israel’s security demands that have a political dimension or bear political significance cannot be satisfied without inter-organizational Palestinian coordination. If Hamas elects to reach a separate, expanded arrangement with Israel, it is bound to find itself in the same weakened position in which the Palestinian Authority stands today, due to the increasing awareness to the danger of Israel’s divide and conquer policy, as well as the strong opposition to any move that is not based on national consensus. At present, as long there is no political move on the agenda, Israel would be better off if it continues handling the security threat from the Gaza Strip in the current format of a quiet dialogue focusing on the effort to preserve calm along the border, in return for satisfying the subsistence needs of the inhabitants of the Strip, while attempting to strengthen and extend it to other sectors, yet without formal declarations or presumptive rhetoric.

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.