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The steps taken by the parties following Russia’s suspension of the New START, signed in Prague in 2010, as well as statements made by key officials, make it possible to offer a cautious forecast of the medium-term future of arms control between the two leading nuclear superpowers. February freeze In late February, the consistent degradation of relations between Moscow and Washington has also affected strategic nuclear arms limitation: during his address to the Federal Assembly, Vladimir Putin voiced his decision to suspend the New START, which was promptly implemented with a respective law taking effect on February 28. Ironically, almost exactly two years earlier, the prolongation of the treaty was formalized (even a little quicker). It was not possible to reach agreement on prolonging the treaty with the Trump administration, so after Joe Biden’s arrival to the White House, the expiration of the New START was a couple of weeks away. As a result of the decision made, the validity of the Treaty was extended until February 5, 2026. However, despite such an optimistic start to the dialogue with the new administration, active work on the future of post-START strategic arms control never got underway. The reason was both the rather significant time specified in the treaty (that would expire during the next presidential tenures in the United States and Russia) and the long list of accumulated problems in the field of ensuring strategic stability. Russia was increasingly concerned about further limitations on strategic nuclear weapons, pointing to the nuclear missile capabilities of the America’s NATO allies—the United Kingdom and France, as well as to the growing countervailing capabilities (aimed at defeating the nuclear triad and control centers) of long-range precision non-nuclear weapons. Hand in hand with the latter was the expansion of NATO and the spread of its military infrastructure even closer to Russia’s borders. Another serious concern was an uncontrolled development of global ballistic missile defense (BMD), even if in the distant future. In the event of further reductions in Russia’s strategic forces, these factors could seriously undermine its confidence in the ability to launch a guaranteed retaliatory strike with a force sufficient to ensure reliable deterrence. On the other hand, the U.S. was reluctant to see further reductions in strategic nuclear weapons without them being linked to other issues. First and foremost, Washington is concerned about the radical growth of China’s nuclear capabilities—under the Trump presidency, Beijing’s inclusion in strategic arms control was, for some time, a mandatory condition for as much as extending the New START. Under the Biden administration, this issue was still in the initial stages, implying a softer touch, though it has never completely left the agenda and would probably rise to its full scale, should substantive negotiations commence. For two years by now, the U.S. top brass has been talking about the need “to deter two virtually equal adversaries simultaneously and independently”, as the most difficult and previously unprecedented challenge. Besides, Washington is concerned about Russia’s much larger and more advanced arsenal of tactical nuclear weapons. In the inception of a long journey possibly leading to a new agreement or a set of agreements, a format for a comprehensive bilateral dialogue on strategic stability was announced in June 2021. However, only two face-to-face meetings were eventually held within its framework, which was clearly not enough. Once the Ukrainian crisis broke out, the U.S. announced the suspension of this format. A simple coincidence also played a negative role in the fate of the treaty as inspections thereunder were suspended in the early 2020s through a coordinated decision due to the pandemic. They would probably have been reinstated if the situation were normal in 2022. The parties were already negotiating extra security measures until a sharp deterioration of bilateral relations affected this purely technical dialogue (which it was in the beginning). A separate problem was the Western sanctions against Russia that included a ban on commercial and government aircraft flights from Russia in the airspace of the Western nations. Although Washington later stated that it would have allowed an aircraft with inspectors on board to fly in, it seems that it could not guarantee operational approvals from its junior allies, which meant that the suddenness of inspections would have been compromised. In the very least, there is no talk of equality among the parties to the treaty. The comments made by the U.S. side that Russians could use commercial flights with connections in third countries cannot be seen as anything other than boorish. Consultations on finding a way out continued, when in August 2022 the U.S. side decided to cut the Gordian knot by notifying the Russian side of an urgent inspection as if everything had been resolved. Russia immediately responded to this “attempted assault” by suspending inspections. An opportunity to resolve the differences could arise during the meetings within a special format, the Bilateral Consultative Commission (BCC), which was to be held in Cairo, Egypt, in late November or early December, but Moscow refused to participate at the last moment. As a result, the New START was deprived of the main elements of compliance verification and the mechanism of conflict resolution. Amid this situation, the denunciatory voices of American lawmakers and hawks from other spheres were getting ever louder about Russia’s violation of the New START. After these steps had been taken, declaring a withdrawal from the treaty would seem a logical step to secure and legitimize the de-facto state of things. But the Russian authorities chose not to burn all boats and—instead of withdrawing from the treaty—suspended it, demonstrating readiness to resume participation. However, it must be admitted that the conditions put forward for resumption, namely “the repudiation of hostile policies towards Russia by the United States and its allies”, are rather vague while it is hard to imagine that their fulfilment can seriously be expected in the foreseeable future. The most important difference between the suspension of the New START and a complete withdrawal from the treaty was the cessation of “information exchange” within its framework while maintaining quantitative indicators of deployed carriers and warheads of strategic nuclear forces (SNF). (Not only do the parties exchange general quantitative indicators but they also regularly report on changes in the status of components in their nuclear forces.) Moscow has repeatedly emphasized this at all levels, from the initial presidential statement to statements on the part of lawmakers. The same is expected from Washington—in fact, even the first detailed official commentary on the suspension contained a call on the United States to “refrain from steps that could prevent the resumption of the New START Treaty.” The U.S. took a negative view of the Russian initiative, accusing Russia of violating the treaty and calling for a return to compliance. Yet, those accusations would have been released anyway. That said, administration officials tried to keep a calmer tone. In the following months, the United States announced that it would stop providing Russia with relevant information on the status of its strategic nuclear forces (SNF), but it did not formalize the suspension of the treaty, which drew ironic rebukes from Moscow. This may be due to Moscow’s reluctance to both break the New START and “legitimize” the format of “suspension” as the United States always claimed that Russia had no right to take such actions because they were not directly stipulated in the treaty. Recent statements of American speakers—in particular, the speech of National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan that drew a lot of attention in the field and among Russian politicians—make us think that Washington, as of today and in the short term, has resigned itself to the current state of affairs. It appears that the Biden administration will not formally withdraw from the treaty and will be fighting any attempts on the part of lawmakers to force it to do so. Washington, like Moscow, has repeatedly emphasized that it does not plan to exceed the stipulated ceiling of deployed strategic nuclear forces, proposing to think about agreements for the post-START period, separating strategic arms control from the broader scope of problematic issues in relations. Fashion for the 1980s Although some Russian speakers have criticized Sullivan’s references to the times of the Cold War, when the two countries were engaged in arms control despite their confrontation, we see in fact a situation that closely resembles the fate of the 1979 Treaty on the Limitation of Strategic Offensive Arms (SALT-2). The agreement, which has no legal basis for political reasons, continues to be implemented as mutually beneficial from a practical point of view. In the absence of an inspection regime, the parties have no other option but to do business on trust: It is particularly ironic since mutual trust has been at a very low ebb. A similar situation could be observed in the 1970s and 1980s. Despite some détente in the Cold War throughout the 1970s, direct on-site inspections were unthinkable. Concluding the 1972 Provisional USSR-U.S. Agreement on Certain Measures to Limit Strategic Offensive Arms (better known as SALT-1, although it would be more pertinent to include the ABM Treaty in that acronym), the parties undertook a five-year cessation of the quantitative build-up of launchers for intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) and ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs). To monitor compliance, it was proposed to use “national technical means of verification,” a mild euphemism for satellite reconnaissance. To clarify that this involved nothing more, it was stated that means of control should only be used “in a manner consistent with the generally recognized principles of international law”: Only 10 years had passed since the failed flight of F. Powers, so aerial espionage was a very real threat. On the other hand, the countries pledged not to interfere with each other’s satellite reconnaissance, including measures of structural and facility camouflage. It is noteworthy that these articles had been migrating from one agreement to the other until the New START, where they are quoted verbatim (except for the clarification that ICBM camouflaging was permitted on a limited scale). It was emphasized in the very name and text of SALT-1 that the treaty was temporary, pending the conclusion of a more profound agreement. In June 1979, the Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty (SALT-2) was signed, and that one already stipulated specific numerical caps and even an onset of a cautious process of arms reduction. However, U.S. lawmakers—partly because of the domestic struggle with the Carter administration, partly because of their hawkish views and distrust of the USSR—began to oppose the entry of this treaty into force quite vibrantly. One of the most important reasons for criticism was the lack of effective verification tools, which was more important than before, since not just the carriers were limited, but partly also their combat load. In October, a big stir caused by an “unexpected discovery” of a Soviet brigade in Cuba played out, while Soviet troops were marched into Afghanistan on December 25. Under those circumstances, in the year of presidential election, it was political suicide to continue insisting on the ratification of SALT-2, and Jimmy Carter told the Senate a week later that he no longer thought it necessary because of the altered environment. However, neither this, nor the arrival of Ronald Reagan in the White House a year later, who being one of the most convinced anti-Soviet American presidents opposed the treaty during his campaign, prevented its de-facto observance, even if not de-jure. SALT-2 was to remain in force until late 1985, when it was to be replaced by a more substantive treaty. The initial total number of carriers was limited to 2,400, and to 2,250 by early 1981. The USSR, which declared 2,504 carriers at the time of signing, had to reduce a small part of that fleet in two stages, which it did not do, given the U.S. refusal to ratify the treaty. Even so, the Soviet Union did not exceed the initial quantitative cap, while actively replacing obsolete systems with new, more advanced ones. The U.S. was initially within the limits (declaring 2,284 carriers at the time of the conclusion) and exited them at the end of November 1986 in the process of rearming the B-52 family of bombers with new cruise missiles. Thus, absurd as it may seem, the treaty, while not finalized, was quite successful. Yes, there were mutual reproaches within its framework such as when the USSR openly played the hypocrite by presenting the mobile ICBM RT-2PM Topol (SS-25 «Sickle») system as a simple upgrade of the old RT-2P (SS-13 «Savage») missile, and the U.S. began “research” towards a global missile defense system. Yet, these actions were a lame excuse for an aggressive demarche by the opposite side in the form of initiating a large-scale, dangerous conflict through an attempt to create a preponderant quantitative build-up of strategic nuclear forces. In all candor, U.S. military argued that Topol was violating the letter of SALT-2, while strengthening strategic stability because that system was optimized for dealing a retaliatory strike. However, such “business on trust” had limited potential, especially in the midst of a chronically negative attitude of U.S. lawmakers towards this approach to strategic relations with the USSR, as congressmen were looking for an excuse to publicly bash the “naïve” executives, who were outsmarted once again. As in the case of SALT-2, the agreements that the U.S. presses for sometimes fall victim to political games. Under the Reagan administration, the U.S. began pushing for detailed on-site inspections that should accompany the agreements on strategic arms control and reduction. The motto of the U.S. side was “trust but verify” as the American president asked his advisors to collect Soviet jokes and traditional Russian sayings for him to make an impression during the negotiations. He liked the phrase “Doveryai no proveryai” (“trust but verify”) so much that he kept reiterating it time and again so that Mr. Gorbachev seemed to be sick of hearing it. Time wheel Since then, U.S. interest in the inspection of strategic arms reduction agreements has not diminished. The collapse of the USSR and subsequent events could not help but play a role in this as one can still find the opinion that only a watchful oversight from overseas saved the Soviet nuclear legacy from being “dragged apart”. In the professional community, there even remains the maxim that “the U.S. wants inspections to be included in the START, while Russia needs caps.” It seems that the U.S., for the near future, is losing the part of the treaty that it values so much, which is surely fraught with its complete cancellation on its own initiative. At least, the “hawkish” part of the political leadership is already calling for this move—thus, in May, a bill under the telling title “No START Treaty Act” was entered in the Senate: It requires that the country officially withdraw from the New START no later than one year after the document’s approval. The given bill is interesting in its own right as a likely vision of arms control by Washington hawks, but it is worth being considered only if it gets further traction in Congress. What about the caps and why are they important for Russia, as the simplified formula from above suggested? Although there is no objective of maintaining strict quantitative parity with the U.S. in all parameters of the SNF, a significant superiority of the opponent in the number of SNFs would threaten the deterrence by maintaining the capabilities for dealing a retaliatory strike with the desired power, especially given U.S. allies possessing nuclear potential as well as a significant arsenal of non-nuclear cruise missiles. In the future, that may be accompanied by non-nuclear medium-range ballistic / hypersonic missiles. In this situation, limiting the upper ceiling (cap) of the Strategic Nuclear Defense Forces allowed more funds to be allocated for conventional weapons—obviously, this issue has only become more pressing for Russia over the past year. The START caps have not been fully used. According to the latest data, as of 1 September 2022, Russia had 540 deployed carriers out of 700 permitted under the Treaty. It is possible to commission 10 more Borey-type submarine missile carriers in one go, in compliance with within the agreed limits. Certainly, there is the issue of warheads, where Russian SNF is close to the permitted upper limits, but they could be distributed more evenly in the formation of the triad, increasing overall stability. In any case, this parameter is likely to decrease in the near future with the withdrawal of the heavy R-36M2 Voyevoda (SS-18 Mod 6 «Satan») ICBMs. In the conditions of preserved military nuclear complex, warheads are a lot less costly than carriers. It is not surprising that Russia currently has no need to announce plans to launch a quantitative strategic nuclear missile arms race, so that military expenditures could easily be reallocated to meet other urgent needs. The U.S. is also incapable of any significant build-up of arsenals in the medium term: In reality, they can only begin the process of refitting Minuteman III ground-based ICBMs from one warhead to three warheads, increasing the load of Ohio-class submarines from 20 to 24 Trident II missiles and refitting them with more warheads. Yet, the former would take a long time and would be visible, while this would probably be possible on only a fraction of the fleet. In response, Russia would also upgrade its missiles, so the benefit would be minimum. The option of increasing the strike power of the submarine component in the nuclear triad seems alluring for the United States, but the availability of “backup” warheads is then in question. Given the collapse of the U.S. military nuclear complex and plans to resume the serial production of thermonuclear charges in the early 2030s at best, it is unlikely that U.S. warehouses are bursting with serviceable warheads. In this situation, the scenario when both parties will generally continue to adhere to the provisions of the New START for as long as it is effective and maybe even longer, despite regular mutual reproaches, looks quite plausible, as in the case of SALT-2. Deputy Foreign Minister Ryabkov, speaking at the PIR Center, commented negatively on Sullivan’s proposals and noted that it might be worthwhile not to try create a complex treaty in strategic arms control including an inspection regime but rather to embark upon the path of “parallel unilateral self-restrictions.” After all, the largest initiative in history to reduce nuclear arsenals was just that. We are not talking about a series of STARTs—this rather refers to the elimination of huge arsenals of tactical nuclear weapons, whereby, by foreign estimates, the U.S. would get rid of all but a relatively small number of B61 bombs, whereas Russia would reduce them by some 90 per cent relative to the late Soviet Union levels (while still maintaining a significant advantage over anyone else in the end). In the late 2020s, however, the much-delayed radical upgrading of the U.S. nuclear triad should start bearing fruit, whereas Washington will be a lot more concerned over Beijing’s burgeoning arsenal. Today, it is difficult to predict which way to maintain strategic stability can be found in the new architecture of relations between the nuclear powers, which is much more complex than the U.S.-Soviet system. Perhaps, the future lies in the dialogue between the five major nuclear powers, which continues even at this challenging time, with the presidency just passed on to Russia.

Work meeting with the German Chancellor Olaf Scholz in Salzburg "I am very pleased that for the first time in over 10 years a Chancellor of the Republic of Germany is back in Austria in an official capacity. We are not only neighbours, but also closely interwoven culturally or in matters of economic relations. If we look at our border regions, they are in fact no longer border regions, because people have long since overcome these borders in the realities of their lives - whether as business people or when starting a family. And so, we have grown together a bit," said Chancellor Karl Nehammer at a joint press conference with Olaf Scholz at the Mozarteum University in Salzburg. The German Chancellor made his first bilateral visit to Austria and was received with military honours. In addition to bilateral issues such as energy supply, the working meeting focused on the fight against irregular migration and border controls within the Schengen area. "The partnership with the Federal Republic of Germany is particularly important because we are very often allies in the question of how we want to shape European policy and further develop the EU, always bearing in mind that there may also be different interests. In addition to excellent economic relations, Germany is one of our most important partners in tourism. We therefore have many points of contact here," the chancellor noted. Strengthening security means gaining people's trust in the European project Politically and in terms of content, there are major challenges to be tackled together: on the one hand, the Russian Federation's war of aggression against Ukraine with all its consequences, and on the other hand, irregular migration. The two heads of government agreed that, in order to have efficient external border protection, we must be able to quickly return those who are not allowed to stay to their countries of origin. However, this also meant that stable and sustainable relations with the countries of origin had to be established and expanded and that prospects had to be created in these countries, the Chancellor said: "Germany and Austria are on the same side here. Because only if we have credible external border protection and fast and swift asylum procedures, and if we can ensure order and security within the European Union in an orderly manner, will we win people's trust in the European project." The topic of Schengen was also discussed. He said the chancellor presented the Austrian perspective and described how 112,000 asylum applications had been filed in Austria in 2022, 75 percent of which had been registered for the first time, even though the applicants had crossed an EU country. "In Austria, the numbers are decreasing, but at the same time they are increasing in Germany. We are a community of solidarity within the EU, so we care about the numbers. And as long as the current Schengen system does not work, as you can clearly see from the border controls from Germany to Austria, we need joint efforts in Europe to strengthen the external border protection. We will therefore stand by Germany when it comes to pushing forward the Commission's measures," Nehammer said. He said there were steps in the right direction, such as pilot projects at the Romanian and Bulgarian borders and an agreement with Tunisia, which the chancellor believes will be forward-looking. Securing energy supply for the future with green hydrogen from Africa But Germany is also an important partner in the question of energy security. This year, Austria had already managed to fill its own gas storage facilities to 90 percent in August, to secure its gas supply and thus to strengthen its independence from Russia, the Chancellor said happily. This had also been achieved with the help of Germany, which had helped to set up gas alternatives. Work is underway on connectivity between Austria and Germany in order to benefit from the liquefied natural gas terminals that have been built, which will subsequently play an important role in Austria's security of supply. Germany will continue to be an important partner for Austria in the future when it comes to bringing green hydrogen to Austria via a pipeline infrastructure. For example, he said, a southern corridor is specifically planned with Italy to bring green hydrogen from Africa via Italy to Austria and Germany. "These are the issues that move us for the future - with the aim of becoming more independent of fossil energy, establishing security of supply for the people and continuing to work to ensure that the good partnership and friendship between our two nations within the European Union is developed further," the chancellor concluded.

Ladies and Gentlemen, It is very special for me to be in Manila and once again to experience first-hand the famous Filipino hospitality. Each time I visit, I am struck by the warmth, intelligence, and honesty of the people I meet. You make everyone feel at home, even 10,000 kilometres from home. While visiting your beautiful country, I have also learnt a proverb of yours. It says: ‘Be like a rice stalk: the more grain it bears, the lower it bows'. I believe a country's proverbs can tell a lot about its people.  And this proverb certainly describes the people of the Philippines: always humble, especially in success. Right now, the Philippines is booming. Thanks to your resilience, dynamism, and work ethic, your economy grew by close to 8% last year. You are among the fastest growing emerging markets. Your Development Plan, as outlined by President Marcos, is prioritising good governance, cutting red tape, and speeding up permitting for strategic investments, for example in renewables and semiconductors. Not only does this make the Philippines an even more attractive trade and investment destination for European firms, but Filipino companies are also beginning to thrive in the European market. IMI, for example, has expanded its micro-electronics business to become the 14th largest manufacturing solutions provider in Europe. Or consider the Philippine port-handling giant, ICTSI. It operates a container terminal in the Adriatic Sea, and recently signed another 30-year lease to operate a port in the Baltic. It is worth mentioning, as well, that there are around 50,000 Filipino sailors manning ships with European flags. You make trade happen. And you never boast about any of this. So allow me to begin by thanking all the Filipinos who are contributing every day to the friendship and economic partnership between Europe and the Philippines. These examples show that the ties between our countries are already strong. But the time has come to lift our partnership to the next level. Because we have much more in common than our geographic distance would suggest. I see three main fields where we share interests and values, and we are just made to work together. First of all, international security. Both the Philippines and Europe believe in a global order that is based on the principles of the UN Charter, such as the respect for every nation's sovereignty and territorial integrity. And this order is now threatened, in both our regions. Second, economic transformation. We are both modernising our economies, with a focus on the green and digital transitions. And in parallel, we are de-risking our trade and investment. Europe and the Philippines are natural economic partners more than ever before. And third, on democratic values. Because economic progress can only be coupled with social progress, for all people in our societies. Let me begin with security. The Philippines have helped build the rules-based global order, as a founding member of the United Nations, ASEAN, and the World Trade Organisation. And last year, you stood up to uphold the global order, when Russia sent its tanks into Ukraine. Both the European Union and the Philippines – along with over 140 countries – have clearly condemned Russia's war of aggression against a sovereign, independent member of the United Nations. And we Europeans will continue to support Ukraine and to uphold the UN Charter for as long as it takes. But another permanent member of the UN Security Council – China – has yet to assume fully its responsibility under the UN Charter to uphold the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Ukraine. This is happening against the backdrop of China's more assertive stance in your region. Europe has constantly called on China to respect the sovereign rights of states within their exclusive economic zones. China's show of military force in the South and East China Seas and in the Taiwan Strait directly affects the Philippines and our other partners in the region. But it could also have global repercussions. And any weakening of regional stability in Asia, the fastest-growing region in the world, affects global security, the free flow of trade, and our own interests in the region. So whether we talk about Ukraine or about the South China Sea, our security is connected. That is why the EU has been enhancing its engagement in the Indo-Pacific. We aim to promote a free and open Indo-Pacific, to reinforce respect of international law and address global challenges. With the Philippines, we are deepening our security partnership, particularly on maritime security and on cyber cooperation. And we want to do more.  Ladies and Gentlemen, We cannot choose our neighbours, but we can choose who we do business with, and on what terms. This leads me to my second point. We, Europeans, are clear-eyed when it comes to diversifying and de-risking our trade and investment. We made the mistake with Russia, thinking that we could manage our geopolitical differences through business. Before the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Europe relied heavily on energy imports from Russia. When the Kremlin started the war, Russia tried to blackmail us with cutting its gas supplies. 80% in eight months. This triggered a severe energy crisis, but we withstood. We saved energy, we diversified to like-minded partners, and we invested massively in home-grown renewable energy. Today, we are stronger than before and more independent. And we have learnt our lesson. We will not make the same mistake again. When it comes to the key inputs needed for our competitiveness, such as critical raw materials, we should never rely on one single supplier. This is the core of our de-risking strategy. And I know that this is not only Europe's strategy. The Philippines, for instance, exports 90% of its nickel ore to China, instead of processing it inside the country to create more jobs and added value. But this can change. That is also why I am here in Manila today. The Philippines and the EU have a major opportunity to step up our partnership on both trade and investments. Let me focus on investments, first. Europe has just launched a plan for boosting infrastructure investments in strategic sectors in partner countries. It is called Global Gateway, and for ASEAN, we have put forward an investment package worth EUR 10 billion in public funds until 2027. But it is not only about the money. It is also about the method. European investments come with the highest environmental and labour standards, as well as with a strong focus on creating local value chains. Take the raw materials examples. Unlike other foreign investors, we do not want to invest only in the extraction of raw materials. We can also support you in building local capacity for processing, powered by new clean energy infrastructure. Global Gateway seeks to create good jobs right here because this also strengthens our supply lines. Global Gateway seeks to promote investments that move Filipino sectors up the value-chain. And we look forward to working with the Asia Development Bank, based right here in Manila.  You are experts in the region, and we share similar priorities.  So it is only natural that we work hand-in-hand. Moreover, the Philippines are a natural leader in digital innovation. The Philippine Venture Capital Report of 2023 observed an explosion of new activity in the country's start-up ecosystem. Your e-commerce market value increased by 33% in the last three years alone. The people of the Philippines are five years younger than the global average. So it is no surprise that your economy is so dynamic. The Philippines can become a new digital hub in the region. But as entrepreneurs everywhere, Filipino entrepreneurs need infrastructure investment. This is where Global Gateway can truly make a difference. And we are already working on the ground, or rather, in space. Together with the Philippines Space Agency, we are building the first earth observation system in Southeast Asia. In parallel, Nokia is investing in 5G infrastructure. Why does this matter to Filipino innovators? Because the European Copernicus satellites will be made available for space-based services here in the Philippines, like disaster risk management against typhoons, or satellite navigation, which is fundamental for aviation, drones, and autonomous driving. This is part of a larger digital economy package that we are finalising with the government. We are even exploring a possible extension of the new fibre submarine cable that will connect Europe to Japan via the Arctic. We would create a direct data connection between our regions to de-risk and open up new opportunities for both our economies. New investments could also lead the way for more trade between Europe and the Philippines. The EU is your fourth largest trading partner, accounting for nearly 8% of your trade. This is thanks to our current trade preferences scheme. But there is much untapped potential in our trade relationship. Let me give you an example: A few months ago, I was in South Korea. There I saw the impressive positive impact of the trade deal we have concluded. In a little over a decade, EU trade with Korea has more than doubled. This is what happens when you give people and business the opportunity to work across borders. New doors open for innovation. And the most important: People benefit. So let us make progress. Our trade agreements with Singapore and Vietnam are already delivering. And Europe wants to conclude free trade agreements with other ASEAN countries. I believe, like President Marcos, that the timing and conditions are right for us to solidify our bilateral trade relations. That is why we have taken the decision to relaunch our negotiations for a free trade agreement between the Philippines and the EU. Our teams will begin right away a scoping process to identify what we need to do to overcome any remaining gaps before we can get back to negotiating. This should take no more than a few months. Let us seize this window of opportunity, and make it work. Trade agreements today are about much more than eliminating tariffs and quotas. They are about shared commitments, values, and principles, including on human and labour rights. And this leads me to my last point. Our democracies – all of them – are work in progress. None of them is perfect. But they are all perfectible. Your new government has taken some important steps for human rights here in the Philippines. Each one of our democracies is different. But we all share the same universal values, and the same direction of travel. The path towards better democracies is one that we can and should walk together. Ladies and Gentlemen, The Philippines and the European Union may stand at the opposite sides of the world, but our destinies are linked more than ever before. We see it with geopolitics and climate change. We see it in the connection of our value chains. We have a similar outlook on the Indo-Pacific. And we have strong economic ties. Europe wants to be a trusted partner to the Philippines as it grows into its economic potential. We want to be partners who stand eye to eye. Partners who put people and their values first. Having met so many wonderful people here in the Philippines, who are proud of their country, hardworking, and humble, I am excited for what we can achieve together. I know you are proud of your Bayanihan spirit. And I really hope that we can build the same spirit of community between us, in Europe and the Philippines. Salamat, thank you very much and have a wonderful evening.

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

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

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

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

Ambassador, Admiral, Excellencies, friends, It is a great honour to welcome the USS Gerald R. Ford and its crew to Norway and to Oslo. This is a historical event, nothing less. – A show of force. But just as important: A show of friendship – and a show of trust. And it is great to be back on the Ford! – Because I have been here before. Actually, I landed on the Ford outside Norfolk, Virginia last September. I experienced how it was to land – but even more memorable was to take off, being catapulted off the ship – I am still recovering. Today, we came by boat. – It is more relaxed, if I may say so. It is very good to be back. I would like to thank you for this extraordinary U.S. hospitality, we can all feel it, thank you, Captain for the superb Friday evening entertainment. Stepping onto the ship once again, on the Norwegian side of the Atlantic Ocean, reminds me of the obvious fact: The ocean does not divide us. It unites us. And the ocean, as we can see, is a gateway, a waterway, that makes us to what we are – we are neighbours and close friends across the Atlantic.  The Ford flies a battle flag which shows the compass rose. – This is an important tool, for centuries, and a powerful symbol – for staying on the right course. Navigating the Oslo fjord is no easy thing, and on your very first overseas visit I believe it proves that you master the tool – the compass, although – probably, the pilots also helped. Your skilled sailors have anchored the ship on a spot which is significant in many ways in my country. Because the Oslo Fjord tells an important part of the history of Norway: Merchants and rulers came this way, landed near Akershus Castle, which defended the city for centuries from invasions from outside. The famous explorer Roald Amundsen – whose name is, as you know, on the frigate – started his South Pole expedition from exactly where we are now, just ashore here. The Nazi German occupants came this way in 1940 – however, they struggled a lot more to get through the narrow parts of the fjord. The Norwegian king returned from his exile in Great Britain in 1945 on HMS Norfolk by this waterway. – War and peace. Shortly after, NATO was founded. Our two nations – founding fathers of NATO – are close allies, and – as you reminded, Admiral – the U.S. Navy is particularly important to Norwegian security. The U.S. Marine Corps equipment, stored in Mid-Norway, is proof of that commitment. The Norwegian Armed Forces appreciates, in numerous contexts, the opportunity to train with U.S. women and men in uniform. – And that is what we will do in the coming days, and we look forward to it. Well planned, joint exercises are essential. This is not new. It is about continuity. We know. Our neighbours know. And our allies know.  The USS Gerald R. Ford is now anchored in the heart of the five Nordic countries – coastwise towards the Atlantic Ocean. This region will now form the new northern flank of NATO – with Finland, its newest member – and just pending the acceptance of Sweden. So – a new security policy map is in the making. For the first time in centuries the Nordic countries will belong to the same security alliance, being U.S. partners and partners of a strong alliance for stability and peace.  Admiral, You are not just navigating a large ship; you are navigating a significant political and diplomatic tool: the U.S. at sea. This ship has the ability to enhance stability and security wherever you sail, whatever waters you travel. You demonstrate the U.S. commitment to NATO and to transatlantic security. To our security. For that we are truly grateful. Against the backdrop of the ongoing war in Ukraine, this is – to put it short – more important than ever. So, dear friends, on this beautiful Friday afternoon, we should be reminded that there have been dire times, wars in Europe, and we should prepare to avoid dire times in the future. Immediately after the attack on Pearl Harbour in December 1941, President Roosevelt wired Prime Minister Churchill the following words: “Today we are all in the same boat (…) and it is a ship which will not and cannot be sunk.”  A truly transatlantic message – and from this our transatlantic alliance emerged. Democracies decided on standing together. Like then, we are in the same boat – and in a big one this time, and it feels safe. So, friends, Welcome to Norway, welcome to Oslo. Welcome to come training with us. I wish you and your fantastic crew of this ship an excellent stay. You have been well received in Oslo. You are our friends. I wish you a good onward voyage. Thank you very much for your attention.

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

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