In the late 1990s, a prominent academic researcher joined our NATO policy planning and speechwriting team for a few months. His track record was stellar: he was a lecturer at prestigious universities in several countries, he had published numerous articles in well-known peer-reviewed journals, and he had edited several books on international security affairs.

When our new colleague looked for ways to apply his skills, however, he found it much harder than he had anticipated. He had to realize that a large, consensus-driven organization like NATO tends to be obsessed with process. Even on issues where substance seems paramount, our new colleague had to swallow his pride: our divisional leadership rejected an analysis he had produced on a specific regional issue, because his findings were considered politically and militarily infeasible. To be sure, no one took issue with the quality of his analysis. What mattered was that the conclusions were outside the political comfort zone.

In the end, the acclaimed academic did not really leave a lasting mark on NATO’s evolution. However, he learned a lot about the “real” NATO: a massive, risk-averse bureaucracy, where progress is hardly ever the result of radically new ideas but rather of persistent work in committees, occasionally augmented by offline discussions in cafeterias.

Does this depressing story mean that the security establishment, as epitomized in national ministries or major international institutions, is impenetrable to advice and inspiration from the academic strategic community? Are students of international security affairs, who hope to one day use their skills to make the world a safer place, better advised to become lawyers or businessmen? The answer to these questions is an unequivocal “no.” Academics can make their voice heard, provided they are willing to acknowledge that in the hectic world of practical policy-making, specific rules apply.

Less is More

The number one constraint for virtually all decision-makers and their staff is a lack of time. Any academic who wants to be heard needs to understand this—yet, sadly, all too many academics don’t. The fact that most decision-makers’ briefcases contain a ton of files but probably not the latest issue of Foreign Affairs (or, shock horror, not the Berlin Policy Journal either) does not imply that these people are intellectually weak or even just plain stupid. Rather, they simply cannot afford the time to plough through a 10,000-word article that may contain only one noteworthy idea. Hence their penchant for short, snappy reading, such as op-ed columns in prominent newspapers. Op-eds are not the forum for complex academic reasoning of pros and cons, but concentrate on one persuasive argument.

Some academics are horrified by the very idea of writing op-eds. But one of the counterproductive side-effects of mainstream academic education is the inability of many academics to be brief. All too often, they equate “brief” with “superficial.” Developing a good idea takes time, or so their thinking goes. One researcher, for example, delivered a briefing that featured close to a hundred Power Point slides. In addition, he also kept fifty backup slides in case his audience would ask for an encore (it didn’t!). While this case was probably unique, many researchers feel insulted when they are asked to present their thoughts in ten minutes or less. Yet those who demand such brevity are neither lazy nor do they suffer from attention deficit disorder.

They simply believe—usually based on years of experience—that they will be able to recognize a good idea when they see one, and that this process does not require an hour and a seemingly infinite number of slides.

If academics want to get their points across, they need to make some hard choices: which are the most important issues they want to make, and, conversely, which issues can safely be dropped. Many academics would rather get a root canal than make such choices. They are terrified that by leaving out important stuff, their audience will perceive them as shallow. They need not worry.

Simplicity Is Difficult

The worst mistake next to being too long is being needlessly complicated. As mentioned earlier, decision-makers are not stupid; many of them also went to university, even if their career path took them in a different direction. However, one cannot expect them to be pleased with long, theory-heavy and jargon-loaded presentations or articles that require a Rosetta Stone to translate them into normal language. Sometimes even the most prominent think tankers go down in flames due to their tendency to “show off.”

For example, at a meeting with NATO officials, two think tankers, by using jargon and overly complex graphs, managed to complicate their interesting findings so much that they lost their audience after a few minutes. In the same vein, an expert who presented several trends about the future development of the global energy landscape stubbornly refused to answer the question which of these scenarios he deemed the most likely. Quite obviously, he was terrified that he might be held accountable to a prediction that may turn out wrong.

Many “strategic foresight” experts do the same. They sketch several alternative futures, but avoid being pinned down on any of them. “Foresight,” they tell their baffled audience, is not the same as “prediction.” After all, the future evolves in a “cone of uncertainty.” Maybe so, but decision-makers who are told that a certain issue may potentially evolve in three different ways will be annoyed rather than enlightened. What they need is one plausibly argued case, not three alternatives, which only serve to put the burden back on them and off the researcher’s shoulders.

Originality vs. Realism

Many academics believe that the best way to catch decision-makers’ attention is by being original. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. Decision-makers are not looking for something that is totally out of the ordinary. Rather, they seek incremental ideas that move things forward and that are, above all, achievable. This is why an expert on the political situation in Kosovo, the evolution of Russia’s defense sector, or the strategic implications of China’s Foreign Direct Investment in Europe is more likely to be listened to than someone who pontificates about grander things, such as, for example, the future of NATO, the future of the liberal world order, or similar “big stuff.”

When, to give a particularly stark example, NATO diplomats are told by an academic that the Atlantic Alliance’s decision-making procedures should move from unanimity to majority voting, that NATO should establish a European caucus to better balance the United States, or to abolish NATO’s integrated military structure, these diplomats will be rolling their eyes in despair rather than appreciating these bold ideas. Decision-makers will filter everything they hear through the lens of political or military practicability. Alas, academic advice all too often fails that test. Before one starts thinking “out-of-the-box,” one first needs to know what’s in the box. An occasional provocation may enrich the debate, but academics who consistently go against the grain because they consider it “original” are not original at all. They are just clowns with a university degree.

The Importance of Timing

Academics have time to study an issue in much greater depth than a decision-maker or their staff. This is why bureaucrats, no matter how much they may scoff at the “naïve” eggheads inside the ivory tower, still reach out to academics. However, many academics squander this opportunity. Policy advice is demand-driven. The bureaucrat listens to the academic not for entertainment, but because they have a real-life problem to solve. Hence, timing is of the essence.

A think tanker who once tried to convince a defense minister that NATO’s latest arms control proposal (which had taken the allies ten months to agree on) should be completely revised, provoked only two unpleasant responses: first, he was asked by the minister why developing these great thoughts took him longer than it took almost 30 nations to develop their own proposal. And then the minister cut the meeting short, as he simply was not going to travel to Brussels to make himself a laughing stock in front of his colleagues.

The lesson from this episode is clear: no matter how thorough the academic’s analysis might have been, its bad timing made it utterly useless. The same holds true for ideas that come too early: The academic may come up with a brilliant idea about some future development, yet when decision-makers are busy focusing on other, more current issues, this idea will not have any traction. Even if events finally prove the academic’s predictions right, no one will care. In the noise of daily politics, an idea that is articulated too early is just as lost as the thought that comes too late.

Power Speaks to Power

Our Policy Planning Unit was once asked to examine an idea that the entire team considered utterly silly. We told our leadership that this idea was not worth wasting any time on, yet we were told that our dismissive views were irrelevant and that we should thoroughly look at the issue. The reason for the seriousness with which our superiors approached this task was easy to fathom. The idea in question had been put forward by a high-level official from a most important allied country in a meeting with our own leadership. The proposal made no sense whatsoever; we said so in our analysis, and our leadership quickly lost interest in it.

Yet the lesson was clear: if someone who is considered important and powerful utters an idea—no matter how stupid—it will be treated as an important contribution. Unfortunately, some powerful people tend to not listen to those who have less power, no matter how high their IQ. For example, if the staff makes a proposal for a new political or military initiative, the boss might reject it as too banal or infeasible. Yet if an op-ed by Henry Kissinger or Carl Bildt makes that exact same proposal just a few weeks later, the decision-maker will suddenly find it brilliant and advise his staff to give it further thought.

Let’s be honest: for most politicians and business leaders, a half-baked idea voiced by a VIP at a gala dinner carries more weight than 10 brilliant analytical papers written by their staff or by an academic researcher. In such cases, the academic and the average bureaucrat are in the same boat and have no choice but to accept this most inconvenient truth: when power speaks to power, all other voices fall silent.

Academic Humility

The real-life observations presented here should not lead to the belief that bureaucratic insiders would by definition fare better in getting the attention of key decision-makers than outside experts from academia. True, bureaucrats may have fewer inhibitions when it comes to writing short, un-academic papers, ignoring weighty theories, and offering at least a few recommendations for action. For the hardcore academic researcher this may sound boring, yet getting it right requires a degree of intellectual discipline (and academic humility) that many universities fail to prepare their students for.

Still, the bureaucrat needs the academic. Without academic research, policy-making would run the risk of become ever narrower intellectually. Without the academic’s more thorough inquiry into complex issues, real-life policy-making would become ever more self-absorbed, depriving itself of alternative courses of action, while political leaders would increasingly operate by mere “instinct” (which is mostly a euphemism for half-truths and personal prejudices).

It’s only by working together that they can safeguard the achievements of the Enlightenment that are currently in danger of getting lost: rational analysis and the facts-based search for sustainable solutions.

The post Red Herring & Black Swan: Ground Control to Ivory Tower appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

© REUTERS/Kacper Pempel

“When a man knows he is to be hanged … it concentrates his mind wonderfully.”

Samuel Johnson’s famous quip seems to apply very well to Europe at the moment. The continent is still grappling with the shock waves from the US election. President-elect Donald Trump may have toned down his campaign trail rhetoric, but many Europeans are worried about the US disengaging from world affairs, including from Europe. Such a prospect would indeed be ample reason for Europeans to concentrate their minds.

Alas, such concentration is nowhere in sight. Quite the contrary. Instead of reflection, some have chosen to panic: The vision of a Europe unified on security and defense has suddenly re-emerged. European nations – some of which aren’t even close to the NATO-agreed goal of spending two percent of GDP on defense – are suddenly embracing bold defense schemes that would involve spending far more than they would ever be willing or even able to deliver. But what a scheme it is: A new, defense-minded Europe would finally be able to look after its own backyard. Some observers have even suggested that a stronger Europe could keep an assertive Russia in check. Take that, Donald!

Sadly, the old continent is merely shooting from the hip replacement. The reflex of pushing military initiatives in order to jump-start a stagnating European integration process has never worked in the past, and it’s not likely to do so now. If the EU cannot make progress on far simpler issues, it is even less likely to do so in the area of security and defense, where considerations of national sovereignty and status (as well as defense-industrial protectionism) run deep. For decades, most EU aficionados have agreed that security and defense can only ever be among the very final steps of the European integration process. Trying to reverse that sequence in the face of US disengagement will fail, for a variety of reasons.

No “Strategic Culture”

First, there is no European “strategic culture,” and the prospects of it emerging now remain as dim as ever. Europe remains a conglomerate of nation states of different sizes, cultures, historical experiences and geographic outlooks. “Brexit” and the return of populism are only the most visible signs of the bloc’s limitations: it has never forged a unified vision of the continent’s ultimate shape and future. US leadership in NATO ensured that these differences didn’t matter much when it came to security and defense. Exit the US, however, and these differences will quickly come to the fore. The fear of being left defenseless will not force the Europeans towards more unity on security and defense, but rather to make separate deals with the United States.

Second, military realities are conveniently ignored. Europe is capable of smaller-scale military interventions along the continent’s periphery, but even the intervention in Libya in 2011 would not have been possible without the US suppressing Libyan air defenses and supplying the Europeans with ammunition (which they had run out of after just a few days). In theory, Europe could buy everything it needs for such operations. In practice, however, it won’t. The bill for a genuine satellite network, a fleet of transport aircraft, advanced cruise missiles and more would force European nations to at least double their defense budgets. Given the risks and costs of intervening without the US, Europeans will be more hesitant than when they had Uncle Sam on their team.

Third, the nuclear dimension remains conspicuously absent in the debate. Many proponents of a stronger European effort in security and defense are making the case for a conventional force strong enough to deter Russia. But they seem to overlook that Russia is a nuclear power and can therefore trump whatever conventional improvements the Europeans might be able to muster. With the United Kingdom “Brexiting”, the EU (unlike NATO) cannot count on London’s nuclear support. France would never let an EU body decide over the “force de frappe.” And EU members Austria and Ireland have championed a global ban on nuclear weapons that is fiercely opposed by the nuclear powers and other NATO members. In short, a European nuclear deterrent is a myth; Europe’s only credible nuclear umbrella remains the one “made in the USA.”

Fourth, the debate also ignores the political and legal obstacles that stand in the way of a more unified security and defense. For example, the oft-repeated argument that harmonizing armaments planning and procurement could avoid wasteful duplication is as correct as it is irrelevant. The larger European nations do not plan their defense in such a way; when it comes to key military areas, they don’t want to be dependent upon the agreement of their smaller neighbors. On closer inspection, even seemingly successful examples of “streamlining” are the result of budgetary constraints, not of deliberate planning. And in several EU member states, the national parliaments have a crucial say in the decision to employ military force – a privilege they are not likely to surrender to a collective EU body.

Rendezvous with Reality

Finally, the US will not relinquish its global role. Like all US administrations before it, the new Trump administration will soon have its own rendezvous with reality, be it regarding Russia, China, or the Middle East. The challenges emanating from there will not allow the US to slash ties with its European and Asian allies. Clearly, US concerns about unfair transatlantic burden-sharing are legitimate, and a new Trump administration will not mince its words when it comes to criticizing Europe for its “burden-shedding.” It is here where Europe must demonstrate that it is serious, both by visibly increasing defense budgets as well as acting side-by-side with the US in risky military contingencies, such as the fight against the so-called Islamic State. Self-assertive rhetoric about a European defense “autonomy” that Europe can neither sustain politically, militarily or financially, rings hollow. A troubled European project needs realism, not delusions.

N.B. The author writes in a personal capacity.

The post Daydream Believers appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

© REUTERS/Francois Lenoir

At the battle of Ulm in 1805, Russian troops were to join those of Austria against Napoleon. However, as the Austrians used the Gregorian calendar and the Russians were still using the ancient Julian calendar, the plan failed – when the Russian troops arrived “on time,” the battle was already lost. The Russians were ten days late.

This is a legend, but it contains two interesting observations: that Russia and the West live in separate worlds; and that this can be dangerous for both. Arguably, we are now once again in such a dangerous period. This time, however, Russia does not even try to “arrive on time,” but instead seeks to portray itself as being perfectly happy in its own time zone. Worse, for today’s Russia the West is no longer something to align herself with, but an adversary who means Russia ill and needs to be kept at bay.

The result is an excessively militarized policy: the annexation of Crimea, an undeclared war against Ukraine, an increasingly reckless military campaign in Syria, statements about moving nuclear-capable “Iskander” missiles into Kaliningrad, the cancellation of the US-Russia deal on the disposition of plutonium, and a disinformation campaign of a magnitude not seen since the coldest days of the Cold War. Against this background, NATO’s military reinforcement measures for its Eastern Allies are both a necessary and a timely move to draw a “red line” against Russian adventurism.

However, deterring Russia must not be the entire story. As long as the West remains committed to the long-term goal of building a just and lasting European peace order, the Alliance’s agenda must also reflect this wider objective. This means that NATO must aim beyond deterrence and once again, as in the 1990s, become part of a broader effort of constructively re-engaging with Russia.

NATO: A Four-Letter-Word?

Such a re-engagement will be a major challenge. Russia has never ceased to view NATO as an instrument of containment. NATO’s first “out-of-area” engagement in the Balkans in the mid-1990s was seen as encroachment into a traditional Russian sphere of interest, while NATO’s enlargement was interpreted as a plot to encircle and marginalize Russia. Hence, whatever the Alliance says or does will be viewed through a lens of competition. In the words of a seasoned observer: “In Russia, NATO is still a four-letter-word.”

Moreover, given that today’s Russia is far more resentful and antagonistic than the “strategic partner” of the previous decade, NATO will have to develop any engagement strategy in parallel with military reassurance measures. This will make a meaningful political dialogue even more difficult, as military developments could interfere and even take the dialogue hostage.

The Triumph of Hope over Experience?

Given these constraints, attempts to re-engage with Russia may bring to mind Dr Samuel Johnson’s characterization of a second marriage as “the triumph of hope over experience.” Yet even if the range and depth of an eventual re-engagement with Russia remain limited – and less burdened with overblown expectations than in the past – NATO should nevertheless demonstrate that it is more than merely Russia’s nemesis.

Paradoxically, even the specific military implementation of NATO’s renewed focus on deterrence can be seen as part of a re-engagement strategy. NATO’s emphasis on reinforcements and on a rotational rather than permanent presence in NATO’s east are clear signals to Russia that the alliance has no intention to go back to a Cold War posture. Given Russia’s current siege mentality, it is doubtful whether NATO’s measured military response is actually interpreted as a signal of restraint. Yet as long as Russia does not significantly up the military ante, the allies are likely to refrain from measures that could complicate an eventual de-escalation and even rapprochement with Moscow.

Another indication that NATO is willing to explore venues for re-engagement with Russia are the repeated calls for a modernization of the OSCE Vienna Document on confidence- and security-building measures, and talks about avoiding military incidents and enhancing transparency. These calls focus on discussing the most urgent technical issues, but if such discussions were to yield tangible progress, they could provide a basis for moving further.

In contrast, a renewal of practical cooperation looks less likely. This is not only because NATO, in response to Russia’s undeclared war against Ukraine, has ruled out a return to “business as usual.” It is also because past experience with NATO-Russia cooperation, which once ranged from peacekeeping in the Balkans to coordination on counter piracy operations, is ambiguous at best. Such cooperation did improve atmospherics and enhanced transparency, but it always remained “nervous” and, above all, did not translate into agreement on larger political issues.

The Future of European Security

NATO should not accept Russia’s confrontational stance as the “new normal”, but neither should it lose sight of the bigger picture: the future order of Europe and Russia’s place within it. This unresolved issue lies at the heart of the current crisis, irrespective of the fact that many aspects of Russia’s current behavior have their roots in domestic policy. This is a much more fundamental conversation that has yet to take place.

The post-Cold War order is based on the enlargement of Western institutions as well as on Western-inspired norms, including the right of each state to choose its security alignments. These principles, which Moscow also agreed to, are non-negotiable, yet their full implementation could well lead to Russia’s geopolitical marginalization. For a while, Russia’s weakness fostered the impression that Moscow had accepted the rules set by the West; yet this impression confused acquiescence with agreement. Today, with Russia having decided to play by its own rules, merely reminding Moscow of its international obligations appears futile.

Clearly, the NATO-Russia relationship is too narrow a framework to discuss these higher-order issues. They must be broached on a different level. NATO would only provide the atmospheric accompaniment to such a dialogue. Yet this makes it all the more important that NATO appear open-minded and cooperative. A division of labor in which the alliance was relegated to playing “bad cop” while other institutions play “good cop,” offering Russia economic and other incentives, is in no one’s interest.

NB. The author writes in a personal capacity.

The post Beyond Deterrence appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

© REUTERS/Ints Kalnins

When Donald Trump suggested that the United States should only defend those NATO allies who foot their share of the bill, most commentators took him to task for putting America’s most successful alliance at stake. Some pundits, however, disagreed. In a flurry of articles, Trump supporters – as well as some Trump opponents – expressed their discontent with NATO.

According to some, Europeans are perfectly capable of paying for their own defense (“These NATO countries are not spending their fair share on defense,” CNN). Others warned that NATO had “needlessly antagonized Russia” by admitting the Baltic states back in 2004 (The Atlantic). Yet others opined that by committing to the defense of countries “in the suburbs of St. Petersburg” (Newt Gingrich on Estonia, CBS), NATO had become a major liability for US security. In short, NATO had become “a 20th century organization adrift in a 21th century world” and, hence, should be “phased out” (USA Today). Apparently, the GOP Presidential candidate had only articulated what many in the US were thinking but had been afraid to admit: that NATO has outlived its usefulness to the United States.

Has it? Clearly, NATO cannot thrive on Cold War nostalgia. The days when the US, Canada, and Western Europe kept the Soviet war machine in check are long gone. But those who adhere to the caricature of the alliance as a mere burden-shedding exercise for wily Europeans risk missing the forest for the trees. Yes, as a superpower with global security interests and commitments, the US considerably outspends its NATO allies. But it gets more in return than meets the eye.

Stability in Europe. Ensuring that a conflict in Europe does not lead once again to global war has been a major goal of US foreign policy since 1945. NATO has served this goal well: it prevented the Cold War from getting hot, and, at the Cold War’s end, provided a security home for the new democracies in Central and Eastern Europe. NATO also played an indispensable role in bringing peace to the Balkans after the violent collapse of Yugoslavia in the early 1990s.

Given the United States’ security interests, as well as the fact that the US and Europe form the world’s largest trade and investment relationship, America’s need to maintain influence on European issues should be a no-brainer. NATO is the major institutional framework that legitimizes such a US role. Through NATO, the US has become, in effect, a “European power”, with a unique voice in European affairs. Without NATO, a major political and military “transmission belt” would be lost, and American weight in Europe would be much reduced.

A “red line” for Russia. Russia’s current military and political assertiveness demonstrates that geopolitics did not end with the Cold War. Preventing the nuclear-armed Eurasian great power from intimidating its European neighbors requires a kind of balance that Europe, as a conglomerate of mostly smaller states, simply cannot provide if left to its own devices. Once the US enters the equation, however, the picture changes. As a military power second to none, the US, together with its NATO allies, can draw credible “red lines” that can keep Russian adventurism in check.

The good news is that such a deterrence posture comes with a much smaller price tag than the massive military presence that the US maintained in Europe during the Cold War. But a complete bailing out of European security would lead America’s challengers to conclude that Washington no longer has the guts to uphold the liberal order. As a result, Washington’s red lines would be tested around the world. Hence, if the US wants to remain a global power, it will have to remain a “European power” as well.

Reliable Allies. Given the multitude of security challenges, Winston Churchill’s observation that the one thing worse than fighting with allies is to fight without them still rings true. NATO provides the US with allies that are more militarily capable, more interoperable, and more willing to share risks and burdens. In Afghanistan, for example, even though some NATO allies suffered major casualties, none of them quit. Achieving consensus in NATO can be tedious at times, but once allies agree on a certain course of action, they will carry it through.

True, coalitions of the willing may be easier to put together. Yet they also tend to dissolve much more easily, and the US has to provide an even higher percentage of troops and equipment than to NATO-led operations. Whether Afghanistan, Libya, or countering the so-called Islamic State – when the challenge requires a sustained, long-term effort, using NATO, or at least its tried-and-tested procedures, is still the best option. Moreover, in NATO Washington finds almost 30 member countries around the same table, predisposed to working with the US. Everywhere else in the world Washington has to work through complicated bilateral relationships without getting as much in return.

For all these reasons, reducing NATO to the issue of fair of unfair burden-sharing has it wrong. To be sure, the fact that European defense spending trends are finally pointing upwards again is a most welcome development, but NATO is about much more than money: it is a long-term strategic alliance, which provides tremendous strategic value for the US, Europe, and indeed the West at large. Long-term strategic alliances deserve better than being judged by short-term tactical and electoral considerations.

NB. The author expresses his personal views.

The post Why the US Still Needs NATO appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

© REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst

NATO’s recent summit in Warsaw was meant to find convincing answers to the challenges to the alliance’s east and south – the two major themes were increasing NATO’s military presence in Central and Eastern Europe and enhancing NATO’s engagement with countries in the Middle East and North Africa. However, the Warsaw summit was also billed as an opportunity to consider strengthening NATO’s nuclear deterrence. Almost two years after initial steps were taken to enhance NATO’s conventional arms positioning at the Wales summit, Warsaw was supposed to provide a chance to look at the nuclear dimension.

Accordingly, in the run-up to the summit there was a great deal of speculation about whether and how NATO would revamp its nuclear policy. Some observers considered Warsaw to be an opportunity for a fundamental re-think of NATO’s nuclear policy and posture, while others warned against setting off a new nuclear arms race.

“A Nuclear Alliance”

In the end, none of this happened. The Warsaw summit declaration contained lengthy passages on deterrence and defense; yet the nuclear portion, while more elaborate than in previous summit declarations, was far less spectacular than some had hoped and others had feared.

Allies merely repeated that “[as] long as nuclear weapons exist, NATO will remain a nuclear Alliance,” highlighted the role of US strategic nuclear forces as the “supreme guarantee” of the security of the allies, and noted the contribution of the independent strategic nuclear forces of the UK and France. The summit declaration also stressed US nuclear weapons forward deployed in Europe and Dual-Capable Aircraft (DCA) as parts of NATO’s nuclear deterrence posture, and vowed to ensure “the broadest possible participation of Allies concerned in their agreed nuclear burden-sharing arrangements.”

The document also stated that nuclear weapons were “unique” and that any use of them against NATO “would fundamentally alter the nature of a conflict.” Such statements indicate that the allies’ main concern was not beefing up NATO’s nuclear arsenal, but rather preventing Russia from miscalculating about the eventual use of its own. The major focus of NATO’s post-Crimea military reinforcements remained conventional.

Much of this language was based on the 2012 Deterrence and Defense Posture Review (DDPR). This process has become necessary to regain alliance consensus on nuclear issues in danger of losing support. After some allies’ representatives, notably then-German Foreign Minister Guido Westerwelle, argued for a withdrawal of US sub-strategic weapons from Europe, the DDPR helped rein in a potentially controversial debate among Allies about NATO’s future nuclear posture.

Back to Basics

Put simply, the DDPR helped to get NATO back to nuclear basics – and demonstrated that any attempt on the part of Europeans to “hijack” President Barack Obama’s vision of a nuclear-free world for their own domestic agendas would fail. Even though the review was concluded well before Russia’s annexation of Crimea, the agreed language of the document – amended by statements that can be read as a signal to Russia not to underestimate NATO’s resolve – still appeared appropriate.

Given the sensitivity of the subject matter, most aspects of NATO’s nuclear dimension – such as the linkage between conventional and nuclear capabilities, exercise patterns, and readiness levels – are not to be found in any public document. The declaration merely alludes to a requirement for “planning guidance aligned with 21^st century requirements.” However, the fact that the Declaration did not offer fundamentally new messages was a message in itself: the issue at stake was not nuclear hardware, but reaffirming the principle of nuclear deterrence. To this end, NATO needed neither to mimic Russia’s high-testosterone nuclear rhetoric, nor initiate a major debate about future nuclear strategies or force postures.

Warsaw showed that NATO’s nuclear “acquis” is unlikely to change anytime soon. This means that several European allies will continue to host aircraft and US gravity bombs in what has come to be known as “nuclear sharing” arrangements. While this concept dates back to the 1960s, it still meets several major alliance objectives better than any conceivable alternative: aircraft, for example, can be deployed to crisis regions for the sake of political signaling.

Above all, however, the current arrangements allow non-nuclear allies to participate in the planning and implementation of the nuclear mission. While some allies host dual-capable aircraft that can deliver US weapons, for example, others play a role in suppressing opposition air defenses. These arrangements underscore the fact that, by sharing risks and burdens, the allies consider their solidarity to extend to the nuclear domain.

Nuclear sharing will continue to draw criticism from anti-nuclear activists, yet their arguments remain spurious. Whereas in the past critics maintained that aircraft armed with gravity bombs were Cold War remnants without military value, they now argue that a new generation of aircraft, plus a refurbished bomb, would dangerously tilt the strategic balance in NATO’s favor.

Feeble Arguments

This shift from one feeble argument to another is not likely to gain much traction. The same holds true for initiatives to ban nuclear weapons in order to speed up the long and difficult process of gradual and reciprocal nuclear disarmament. Some allies may well feel sympathetic to that cause; yet even they have to realize that in the current security environment, advocating initiatives that de-legitimize Western defense policies while leaving potential opponents – including Vladimir Putin’s “managed democracy” – untouched is counterproductive.

The Warsaw summit’s reaffirmation of nuclear deterrence does not suggest that allies must renege on their commitments to further reduce the role of nuclear weapons in their defense strategies. Nor does it invalidate the objective of creating the conditions for a nuclear-free world. For the foreseeable future, however, these conditions simply do not exist. As the allies put it in the Warsaw summit declaration: “We regret that the conditions for achieving disarmament are not favorable today.”

The Warsaw Summit heralded neither a new “nuclearization” of the alliance nor a new chapter of the NATO-Russia relationship. It simply reaffirmed the importance of nuclear deterrence as part of an overall strategy of defense and deterrence at a time when members of the Western strategic community were in danger of forgetting it.

NB. The author expresses solely his personal views.

The post NATO’s Nuclear Future appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

© REUTERS/Michaela Rehle

Some still refuse to believe it, but the “post-Cold War era” is over.

When historians look back at the quarter century since the end of the Cold War, they will probably characterize it as a “transition phase” marked by an almost naive optimism. That optimism led Western societies to believe in an ever closer European Union and a democratic and Western-oriented Russia, just as they believed in the success of the Arab Spring and the triumph of economic interdependence in Asia over old geopolitical rivalries.

Meanwhile, a new wave of re-nationalization threatens to unravel the European integration process. Russia wages an overt and covert war against Ukraine, and boasts of its nuclear strength. In the Middle East, state borders are evaporating, a process hastened by a new type of terrorist army that attracts its followers via brutal internet videos. The risk of a conflict between a more assertive China and its neighbors remains undiminished. And Barack Obama, who used to be the object of high-flying expectations, is being asked by some of those who once awarded him the Nobel Peace Prize to return it.

As surprising – and disappointing – as these developments may appear, they were mostly predictable. What at first glance may look like a militarization of international relations is in essence the result of Western self-delusion. Since the end of the Cold War, the West followed a set of beliefs which were never shared by “the rest”. The notion that a more conciliatory United States could somehow lead the world towards the abolition of nuclear weapons was never more than a Western illusion; the same is true of the view that in an interdependent world military power would be of declining utility.

Yet while the unsatisfactory results of Western military interventions, from Iraq to Afghanistan to Libya, confirmed that military power does indeed have its limits, here the West – particular Germany – indulged in a new delusion: that “there are no military solutions.”

“There are no military solutions” – the sentence is meant to reassure, and yet is deeply worrying. For if it were to become the basis of one’s foreign policy, it would be a standing invitation to those who remain willing to use force. Nowhere has this become more obvious than in the case of Russia. Moscow’s behavior has not only brought home that the German pet concept of change through trade (“Wandel durch Handel”) is a myth, it also demonstrated that for some issues there are indeed “military solutions”: for the moment, at least, Moscow’s use of force against Georgia and Ukraine has arrested Westward momentum in both countries. At the same time, it has demonstrated to other countries in Russia’s “sphere of privileged interests” (Dmitri Medvedev) the risk they will run if they should try to wrest themselves out of Russia’s embrace. In Syria, Russia’s indiscriminate use of force has saved the Assad regime, has put it in a stronger bargaining position, and brought the Kremlin back as a “partner” of the West.

So far, so bad. But things are changing. A new US administration – no matter whether Republican or Democrat – will conduct a different foreign policy. The lesson learned in Syria, that any vacuum that the US leaves behind in the Middle East will be filled by Russia – or even Iran – has not been lost on Washington. Neither have China’s attempts to expand its territorial claims by building artificial islands. Clearly, “red lines” are being tested – reminding the US of its role as a global security provider.

Even in Europe, one can sense a change of attitude. After years of neglect, some countries are increasing their defense budgets. In part, this is a result of the need for European solidarity in the face of the Ukraine crisis. But it may also be an expression of the fact that any policy that seeks to defend and promote Western values can only succeed if it is backed up by the will and the ability to use force. Nothing illustrates this more clearly than the current debate on the so-called Islamic State (IS) and the wave of refugees coming from the Middle East. When even the most hesitant observers are starting to argue for a more robust Western intervention in Syria, something is changing.

Germany is no exception. It is sending weapons and trainers to support the Kurds in Northern Iraq, a move that only a few years ago would have sparked a major political controversy. After the terrorist attacks in Paris, Germany dispatched reconnaissance aircraft to the Middle East and a frigate to the Mediterranean. After the start of the Ukraine-Russia crisis, Berlin vowed to play a major role in implementing NATO’s decisions to beef up the military protection of its easternmost Allies. Germany also embraced the pledge to work towards a gradual increase of its defense budget towards two per cent of GDP.

One can interpret these decisions as an expression of Germany’s new willingness to shoulder greater responsibilities, as President Joachim Gauck, Foreign Minister Frank-Walter Steinmeier, and Defense Minister Ursula von der Leyen expressed at the Munich Security Conference in 2014. However, the structural constraints of German security policy still linger. Indeed, on closer inspection, the decisions mentioned above exemplify the very limits of German security and defense policy. For example, Germany’s participation in the military coalition against IS is designed in such a way as to virtually rule out any combat role. The protection of NATO’s eastern members is to be ensured by rapid reinforcements rather than permanent deployments in-theater in order to avoid further irritations in the relationship with Russia. And the increase in Germany’s defense budget is so small that its percentage of GDP is actually shrinking further.

Each of these decisions may have its clear-cut rationale. Taken together, however, they foster the image of a security policy that, despite the substantial German military presence in the Balkans and Afghanistan, remains characterized by symbolism and military risk-avoidance. This is for both political and military reasons. One is the role of the Parliament. The term “Parlamentsarmee” (implying that the parliament constrains the use of the armed forces) is considered politically incorrect, since the German Bundestag has never rejected a request by the government to deploy forces. However, it is often overlooked that the government – wary of parliamentary resistance – only puts forward requests that have a high probability of success. As a result, Germany’s military contributions are often small and heavily caveated.

These political constraints are reinforced by serious military shortcomings. In terms of personnel, the German Bundeswehr, to quote the special parliamentary representative for the armed forces, has been “in free fall for 25 years.” Moreover, the German armed forces had to master the transition from a Cold War deterrence force to a deployable crisis management force without sufficient material and financial means. The impressive number of German soldiers deployed abroad must not obscure the fact that that the armed forces are badly equipped. Frequent media reports about technical failures of military equipment are more than just anecdotes; they are the inevitable result of an investment gap that the Bundeswehr has been accumulating since the end of the Cold War. Hence, Germany’s hesitation to participate in ambitious military missions is not just motivated by political or philosophical issues: it is also driven by the fear of mission failure due to obsolete equipment.

These political and military constraints reinforce one another, and thus cannot be overcome in the short term. However, it is possible to sketch some guidelines for German security at the end of the post-Cold War era.

First, military cooperation with United States must remain a priority, irrespective of whether it is in the framework of NATO or – as is currently the case in the Middle East – in ad hoc coalitions. Given renewed Russian militarism, the risk of state-failure across North Africa and the Middle East, and a new arms race in Asia, the United States remains an indispensable provider of order and deserves Europe’s support. By contrast, demands for creating a “European Army” are political posturing without military value. The mantra of saving costs by pooling and sharing among European forces has long become a mere alibi for avoiding substantial increases in national defense budgets. In any case, a military unification project is ill-suited for overcoming the current crisis of European integration.

Second, a new US administration is bound to call for fairer burden sharing from its European Allies. Hence, even without a “European Army”, Europe will have to take greater responsibility for the security of Europe and its periphery. The results of the first attempt to do so, the 2011 Libya operation, were at best mixed. With US support, some European countries took the lead; however, Berlin abstained in the UN Security Council, confirming concerns in Washington and elsewhere that a permanent seat for Germany in that forum would be a tool to hinder rather than to shape policy. A country that can only agree to a military mission once a “Comprehensive Concept” covers all eventualities is asking for a risk-free security policy, which makes any serious sharing of risks and burdens impossible.

Third, the German defense budget is another critical indicator of Germany’s willingness to share European and transatlantic burdens. After more than 20 years of decline in real terms, a substantial increase of the defense budget would send a powerful political signal far beyond its immediate military importance. The recent plans by the German Ministry of Defense to spend an additional €130 billion over the next 15 years just for procurement indicates that Berlin is aware of this. The defense budget will not reach 2 percent of GDP, as is the agreed NATO guideline. Yet a gradual increase would be both politically sensible and economically affordable. The counterargument, which holds that an increase of the defense budget would frighten Germany’s neighbors, is unfounded. These neighbors are not concerned that the country will show too much military engagement, but too little.

Fourth, the German strategic debate must focus much more on military realities. This is going to be difficult, not least because the German military leadership has long fallen silent. Still, the German strategic community is capable of delivering more than it has thus far been asked to do. Thorough expertise on Russia, which for the past 20 years seems to have been considered unnecessary, is now needed more than ever. The same holds true for expertise on thorny issues such as nuclear deterrence and non-proliferation. Research on Islam, which prefers to remain conspicuously quiet when it comes to terrorism, could also make valuable contributions to the debate. And Germany’s contribution to United States’ foreign and security policy should reach farther than the NSA scandal and TTIP conspiracies.

Finally, Germany must at long last bury the notion that it can fulfill its security responsibilities largely by engaging in military tasks of secondary importance. The reflex of joining the game only to reveal an unwillingness to go beyond mere support tasks – and to perform these tasks with hopelessly outdated equipment – is sending the wrong signal. Instead of projecting determination and a sense of solidarity, it invites the suspicion that Germany is cultivating its military shortcomings precisely to avoid being drawn into serious military action, hoping to not even be asked to take part in the first place.

“He who believes that the smallest steps are the right steps…will not be able to cope with the transformation of the strategic environment.” German President Gauck made this statement at the Munich Security Conference 2014, a few weeks before Russia’s annexation of Crimea. Today, at the end of the post-Cold War era, it appears outright prophetic.

N.B. The views expressed are the author’s own.

The post Security Policy as Symbolism appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

REUTERS/USAF handout

Nuclear deterrence is back. After two decades of neglect, the concept is re-entering the security narrative of the West. Russia’s “nuclearized” rhetoric, along with its actual nuclear deployments, may have been the prime cause for the renaissance of nuclear deterrence, but the dangers of a nuclearized Middle East and a new arms race in Asia are hardly less worrisome. All these developments point in the same direction: the West will need to reaffirm nuclear deterrence as an important element of its broader security strategy.

Alas, restoring nuclear deterrence to its rightful place is easier said than done. Since the end of the Cold War, interest has waned. The focus shifted towards scenarios where nuclear deterrence did not matter: the fight against terrorism and military interventions in failing states. Consequently, the understanding of deterrence and the policies and instruments used to implement it has atrophied.

Worse, in trying to make the case for nuclear abolition, many analysts have sought to “debunk” nuclear deterrence as a “myth” over the past decade. These attempts to outsmart common sense never carried much intellectual weight, yet they managed to create a new “political correctness” that deters the successor generation from studying deterrence.

And study is urgently needed. As a basic principle of human interaction deterrence is easy to comprehend, yet its practical application in international relations is dependent on many factors that are often ignored. Above all, nuclear deterrence is not a panacea. It contains many paradoxes and pitfalls. Below are some elements that should be present in any “nuclear deterrence 101”.

It’s About Interests

Many people equate deterrence with military strength. But simply piling up military hardware will not do the trick: an aggressor may still attack based on a calculation of your interests and will rather than your capabilities. If it looks your interest in defending a certain objective (e.g. an ally) is low, your opponent will not be deterred. Yes, your nuclear weapons can obliterate theirs, but your opponent can be reasonably certain that you will not employ them except when vital interests are at stake.

In short, while the risk of things getting out of hand may induce a general sense of restraint in international affairs, in a crisis nuclear deterrence will only work at the “high end”. That’s why allies of nuclear powers constantly need to be reassured by their protector that it considers their security as truly vital. Or, as former British Defense Secretary Denis Healy aptly noted, during the Cold War it took only 5% credibility to deter the Soviet Union, but 95% to assure your own allies.

We’re Only Human

A stable deterrence regime requires all actors to adhere to a “rational” cost-benefit calculus. Thus, nuclear deterrence cannot work against actors that are “irrational” to begin with, e.g. fanatical martyrs. Deterrence may also fail when rationality evaporates in a crisis; certain ideologies or strains of nationalism, for example, may produce the kind of myopia that makes leaders adopt risky offensive strategies.

But the more important scenario in which rationality could disappear is essentially defensive. Since humans will always give priority to avoiding losses rather than to acquiring gains, the fear of losing something valuable will make leaders take far greater risks than the opportunity to change the status quo in their favor. Hence, as much as one would want to have the upper hand in a crisis, one should still avoid pushing a nuclear adversary into a corner.

Know Your Adversary’s Culture

Deterrence may be a universal concept, but its practical application may well be culture-specific. For example, a culture that attaches great value to sacrifice or even martyrdom will be much harder to deter with the specter of military punishment than a “post-heroic” society. This is not to say that certain states are “un-deterrable”, but their cost-benefit calculus might be so different as to render the defender’s deterrence messages ineffective. Hence, if you want your adversary to understand your deterrence message correctly, you need to have a fairly good grasp of their “strategic culture”: historical experiences, values, core beliefs, military traditions, and, last but not least, language. Despite your best efforts, you will never get it perfectly right – but you might not get it quite so wrong.

Try Seeing Yourself Through Your Opponent’s Eyes

The fundamental dilemma of nuclear deterrence is that it revolves around threats. Hence, what might look like a perfectly defensive deterrence posture to you may look like intimidation to others. Today’s Russia offers a perfect case study. Moscow’s current nuclear bluster may be a specific “Russian” way of upholding deterrence by making the country appear both powerful and fearless. However, as Russia’s neighbors are scared, they will revert to countermeasures that might well result in a net decrease of Russia’s security. To avoid such counterproductive outcomes, you must remain keenly aware that your political declarations, military exercises, and procurement decisions will be interpreted by your opponent in ways far more sinister than you might consider reasonable. Yes, you know that you are the good guy who would never do anything sinister, but your adversary thinks the same about themselves.

More May Not Always Be Better

Nuclear deterrence is a concept that has many built-in risks, but nevertheless makes inherent sense. That is why the majority of Western publics do not revolt against their respective nations’ security policies. However, the absence of large-scale public protest must never be mistaken for unshakeable support of nuclear deterrence. Alarmist rhetoric from an administration, loose talk from leaders, or the deployment of certain weapons systems can spark massive protests all the way to a major domestic crisis. That is why the military requirements for deterrence must be balanced with the need to reassure the public – and why, in some instances, not deploying potentially controversial military hardware may be the wiser choice. Always keep in mind that your deterrence message has at least two addressees: your opponent and your own population. The true art of deterrence is to impress the former without frightening the latter.

Talk Isn’t Cheap

Deterrence is not a substitute for dialogue with an adversary. Quite the contrary. Without communication between the antagonists, deterrence will not be the solution, but rather become the problem. To avoid misunderstandings and miscalculations a stable deterrence regime requires a degree of transparency and predictability. Put differently: deterrence requires rules and recognized “red lines”, however tacit. Herein lies the true value of arms control: while arms control talks have not delivered all that much “control”, it is the talks themselves that really mattered. They created a channel for a conversation on security matters of mutual concern that may have been far more important than the technical bean counting.

Deterrence Is About Buying Time

The return of nuclear deterrence is inevitable. In light of what appears like an increasing militarization of international relations, a Western soliloquy about global nuclear abolition looks increasingly out of touch with reality. Complacency, however, is something the West can ill-afford. With more countries obtaining nuclear and other weapons of mass destruction, deterrence will become increasingly necessary, but also more difficult. A multi-stakeholder deterrence system is even more prone to failure than the Cold War nuclear bilateral standoff, which had its own share of near-misses.

For all these reasons, nuclear deterrence should be seen as a time-buying strategy. It may provide us with the time it takes to overcome the political antagonisms that make nuclear deterrence necessary in the first place.

Paradoxical? Yes, but such is life.

N.B. The views expressed are the author’s own.

The post The Comeback of Nuclear Deterrence appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.

(c) REUTERS/Maxim Shemetov

Alfred Hitchcock used to call it a “MacGuffin”: a goal that serves as an impetus to action, yet does not possess any particular significance itself to the plot. When eminent political realists like Henry Kissinger were looking for a way to contain the global spread of nuclear weapons, they took their cues from the British master director and introduced a “MacGuffin” – the vision of a nuclear-free world – in order to trigger small, achievable steps. Whether the vision could ultimately be realized was of secondary importance. The key was to catalyze a process that would gradually reduce nuclear dangers.

Alas, many advocates of a nuclear-free world are not into Hitchcock movies. While a “MacGuffin” is meant to advance a story, ardent nuclear abolitionists are mistaking it for the actual plot. Accordingly, the tone of the Western nuclear debate is getting rougher. And the confusion that has characterized the nuclear discourse for quite some time continues to grow. Caught between abolitionist rhetoric and “realpolitik” deterrence considerations, the Western nuclear narrative appears to have lost its way.

More Distant Than Ever: Nuclear Abolition

Despite lofty rhetoric about a nuclear-free world, nuclear abolition looks far more distant today than ever. The latest blow was dealt by Russia’s breach of the 1994 Budapest memorandum, in which Russia committed to uphold Ukraine’s territorial integrity in exchange for Ukraine transferring former Soviet nuclear weapons back to Russia. Some Ukrainians are now wondering whether they should have kept the weapons they once inherited, rather than giving them away in exchange for a worthless promise. And there is more. Although not in the public limelight, Russia is also sending nuclear signals to the West by stepping up nuclear exercises, by having Russian bombers flying closer to NATO’s borders, and by boasting about the development of new nuclear weapons. In fall 2014 Russia’s Deputy Prime Minister Dmitry Rogozin even promised that Russia’s military modernization would contain a “nuclear surprise” for the country’s potential adversaries. All this reveals that Russia’s thinking, both politically and militarily, is far more “nuclearized” than most Western observers believed.

Russia’s current nuclear activism is not entirely unique. Pakistan is just introducing tactical nuclear weapons into its arsenal. North Korea continues to conduct nuclear tests and to accumulate fissile material. The rise of China has prompted several countries in the Asia-Pacific region to seek shelter under the so-called “nuclear umbrella” of the United States. The rise of Iran is having the same effect on the Gulf States. And while Iran is not yet a nuclear power, there is no deal in sight that would reliably foreclose this possibility in the long term. Saudi Arabia, for its part, has publicly declared that if Iran goes nuclear, it will follow.

In short, the world is becoming more nuclear, not less. Globalization, technological progress, and a shift of geopolitical rivalries towards Asia have created a landscape that has little to do with the late 1960s, when the Nuclear Non-proliferation Treaty (NPT) was opened for signature. Today, a large part of proliferation is proceeding outside the NPT-regime. Private enterprises have delivered centrifuges, warhead designs, and even scientists to countries with nuclear ambitions. As a result, these countries no longer require technical support by like-minded nuclear powers. The continuing interest in civilian nuclear energy will also mean that more and more countries will become “virtual” Nuclear Weapons States, i.e. states that could convert their civilian programs into military ones at short notice. All these developments proceed independently from Western policies.

Western attempts to re-gain the initiative have been disappointing: President Obama’s famous 2009 Prague speech did not produce a more favorable political climate for non-proliferation, and other attempts to draw attention to the urgency of safeguarding nuclear materials, such as the Nuclear Security Summits, have been overshadowed by real-life crises. For example, the 2014 Nuclear Summit in The Hague was completely eclipsed by the Crimea crisis. And Russia has announced that it will not participate in the preparations for the next Nuclear Summit.

What Went Wrong?

First, many in the West believed that the end of the Cold War also meant the obsolescence of nuclear deterrence. The role of nuclear weapons as tools of deterrence and war-prevention was pushed into the background, while stressing instead the dangers of nuclear possession. Despite warnings about the emergence of a “second nuclear age”, the intellectual curiosity to examine this new age and its implications was woefully missing. Hence, the frequently used term “nuclear renaissance” is actually a misnomer: nuclear weapons are not coming back. They had never gone away in the first place.

Second, since the end of the Cold War, and even more since the 9/11 attacks, there has been an obsession with non-state actors. The spectre of “nuclear terrorism” was a healthy reminder of the limits of nuclear deterrence when dealing with adversaries who are willing to die for their cause. It also helped to galvanize international attention on nuclear security, resulting in initiatives to secure fissile material. Yet it remains doubtful whether the threat is really that serious, particularly when compared to chemical or biological ones. Above all, the focus on “undeterrable” non-state actors further diverted attention away from classic inter-state conflict scenarios.

Third, the non-proliferation community has become increasingly intertwined with anti-nuclear activism. Since the end of the Cold War, non-proliferation has become the central refuge for ideological or religious activists and wayward “peace researchers”, who had failed to attract continued interest in their various causes after the demise of the Soviet Union. As a result, the community has grown larger, but certainly not better. A considerable part of today’s non-proliferation research amounts to little more than blaming nuclear proliferation on Western policies and advocating Western nuclear disarmament as the principal solution.

What Needs to be Done?

First, the West must fundamentally re-think means and ends: if international relations will continue to be shaped by nuclear weapons, nuclear deterrence and reassurance must again be given their rightful place. Rather than dismissing such concepts as relics of a bygone era, or as obstacles to nuclear disarmament, they need to be appreciated – unapologetically – as important means to cope with a volatile security environment. This is particularly true for US extended deterrence.

Second, Western security policies should refrain from raising unrealistic expectations about global nuclear disarmament. Sweeping visions of a nuclear-free world have never gathered more than rhetorical support by other nuclear nations. Instead, the focus of Western policy should be on discussing the conditions for such a world. This means focussing on the disease rather than the symptoms. And it means overcoming antagonisms and security dilemmas through alliances, widespread security cooperation, arms control, and non-proliferation. There are no shortcuts.

Finally, the non-proliferation community, much like the nuclear strategy community, must get back to basics. The blurring of lines between serious research and anti-nuclear activism has contributed to a profound intellectual confusion about the relative importance of nuclear non-proliferation versus nuclear deterrence. Both concepts are valid instruments for safeguarding national security. Even if tension between them is inevitable, they must not be pitted against each other. In the multi-nuclear world of the 21st century, self-inflicted confusion is something the West can ill-afford.

NB. The author expresses solely his personal views.

The post The Nuclear Reality appeared first on Berlin Policy Journal - Blog.