Diplomacy & Crisis News

How time flies in the Middle East, where a regional alliance can be formed at sunrise and then—surprise!—break up at sunset.

From that perspective, the relative durability of what became known as the “alliance of the periphery,” an informal strategic alliance between four non-Arab states in the Greater Middle East—Iran, Turkey, Ethiopia, and Israel—during much of the Cold War was significant. However, the grouping is now eclipsed by Israel’s thawing relations with its formerly most implacable foes, the Arab states.

In particular, Iran and Turkey, two prominent Muslim states, were willing to cooperate with the Jewish State when the Arab-Muslim countries and most of the Islamic world refused to recognize that Israel’s existence was quite remarkable.

Historians have suggested that Israel’s success in establishing close military ties with Iran, Turkey, and Ethiopia derived from the implementation of the so-called “periphery doctrine.” The idea was the joint brainchild of Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben Gurion, and his advisor Eliahu Sassoon, himself the first Israeli diplomatic representative in Ankara.

The two believed in forming alliances with non-Arab states and forces with which Israel had no direct conflict. This not only included Turkey, Iran, and Ethiopia, but also religious minorities, like the Christian Maronites in Lebanon, and non-Arab ethnic groups, such as the Kurds in Iraq. Cultivating a cohort of partners with shared interests would allow the Jewish State to emerge from its regional isolation.

Indeed, offsetting the diplomatic and economic boycott of the Arab World could be seen as part of a traditional balance of power strategy aimed at countering Egyptian Pan-Arabism, which had dominated the region since the mid-1950s.

Hence, while the Arabs saw Israel as a foreign intrusion dividing the Arab Middle East, the periphery doctrine promoted the notion of the Middle East as a mosaic of national, ethnic, and religious groups, including Israel.

Moreover, the fact of Turkey’s NATO membership and Iran and Ethiopia’s close relations with Washington and the West in the context of the Cold War dovetailed with Israel’s goal of thawing ties with the United States, which until the early 1960s imposed an arms embargo on the Jewish State.

Although Turkey and Iran initially sided with the Arabs and voted against the 1947 United Nations partition plan, they soon saw the Arab-Israeli conflict as limited to Israel and the Arab states rather than a pan-Islamic one. Ankara and Tehran had territorial disputes with the Arab states and considered them rivals for regional dominance.

Ethiopia, led by the “Lion of Judah” Emperor Haile Selassie (who, according to legend, was a descendant of King Solomon and Queen Sheba), established diplomatic relations with Israel that helped his country in its fight against Eritrean rebels.

Turkey recognized the State of Israel in 1949, and Iran later became the second Muslim state to do so in 1950. Before these dates, the two had even established low-level diplomatic relations with the Jewish State.

Much cooperation between Israel, Iran, Turkey, and Ethiopia occurred behind the scenes between the respective militaries and the security services that dominated politics and policymaking in Tehran, Ankara, and Addis Ababa. Nevertheless, the nexus of ties never amounted to a genuine “strategic alliance.”

Iran and Turkey regarded their relationship with Israel as a way of hedging their bets and providing them with additional diplomatic and military resources to resist the pressure from aggressive Arab nationalist states. Nonetheless, geographical proximity, economic dependence on, and religious connections to the Arab World significantly constrained the ability of Tehran and Ankara to upgrade their ties with Israel, especially during the 1967 and 1973 Arab-Israeli wars.

At the same time, Gurion and his successors regarded the periphery doctrine as a temporary strategy that needed to be sustained as long as the Arab nations refused to make peace with Israel. However, the periphery could not substitute for the central tenet in Israeli policy: peace with Arab Israel’s neighbors. Nor could it be an alternative to a strategic relationship with a global power like the United States.

The periphery doctrine proved, at best, a cost-effective form of realpolitik for Israel and eventually as a strategic illusion. Israel’s close relationship with Ethiopia and Iran collapsed after the fall of their ancien régimes and the ensuing political turmoil that engulfed each country.

Nor did the occasional military cooperation with the Maronites in Lebanon or the Kurds help terraform Israel’s position in the Middle East. If anything, in the case of Lebanon, it led to the catastrophe of the Israeli invasion of that country in 1982.

In the case of Turkey and Israel, the end of the Cold War, the democratization process in Turkey, and the strengthening of the alliance with the United States after the first Gulf War opened the door to improving the ties between Ankara and Jerusalem.

But contrary to the high expectations of neoconservative strategists, the relationship between the two countries didn’t evolve into a strategic alliance.

In fact, demonstrating the continuing sensitivity of Tukey to its ties with Arab World, it was the positive atmosphere in the Israeli-Palestinian peace process in the early 1990s (the Oslo Accords) that made it possible to raise the mutual diplomatic relations to the ambassadorial level. A Turkish ambassador presented his credentials to President Chaim Herzog, on March 23, 1992, in Tel Aviv. The Israeli embassy is located in the capital city of Ankara.

However, the 2002 landslide victory of the conservative Islamist Justice and Development Party and its leader Recep Tayyip Erdogan marked a turning point in the ties between Israel and Turkey. Erdogan insisted that his policies toward the Jewish State would be directly affected by its policies toward the Palestinians.

Interestingly enough, the collapse of the alliance of the periphery was taking place just as Israel’s relationship with the Arab World was beginning to change, starting with the Israeli-Egypt peace agreement and followed by the Oslo Process and the peace treaty with Jordan.

Indeed, one of the reasons for the effort made by the United States to accelerate the Arab-Israeli peace process has been the loss of Iran and Ethiopia as strategic allies and the threat facing the Arab oil-producing states following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan.

From that perspective, solidifying the Arab-Israeli core to counterbalance the Iranian threat and the challenge of an assertive Turkey created the strategic environment for the signing of the Abraham Accords. Israel has expanded its ties with four more Arab countries, along with reports about the possible normalization of relations between Israel and Saudi Arabia.

These changes in the balance of power in the Arab-Israeli core may explain why Erdogan is seeking to improve relations with Israel. In the long run, the current Saudi-Iranian détente could encourage the Iranians to reassess their relationship with Israel.

Israel may have established the periphery alliance in the 1950s as a tool against its Arab rivals. But it seems that today a return to that alliance goes through reconciliation with the Arab World. Or, to put it differently, to reach the second circle in the Middle East, Israel has to make peace with the first.

Dr. Leon Hadar, a contributing editor at The National Interest, has taught international relations at American University and was a research fellow with the Cato Institute. A former UN correspondent for the Jerusalem Post, he currently covers Washington for the Business Times of Singapore and is a columnist/blogger with Israel’s Haaretz.

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But the two countries’ defense chiefs won’t be holding a meeting on the summit’s sidelines.

One could be forgiven for throwing up hands in despair at the multitude, severity, complexity, and convergence of threats the United States and its allies now face. From China, Russia, and Iran striving together to subvert the world order, to the worldwide rise of authoritarianism, human rights abuses and religious persecution, to fast-growing nuclear and missile threats, to a deluge of propaganda targeting the West, challenges to the Free World are formidable. Add to all this the malign acts and actors in the domains of cyber, energy, and space, along with the menace of transnational terrorism and trafficking, and the picture becomes more concerning. Renewed great power rivalry, heightened grey zone warfare, and escalating hostilities and atrocities in global hotspots call for a resolute, principled, and wise American foreign policy.

Metastasizing threats expose both the erosion of the post-World War II American foreign policy framework and the inadequacies of post-Cold War policies. Reeling from the horrors and devastation of fascism and total war, America resolved to stop expansionist aggression in its tracks and counter extremist ideologies with ideas of political liberty and human rights. During the Cold War, inspiring presidential speeches for freedom, the Voice of America radio broadcast, and U.S. leadership in democracy initiatives and international organizations existed alongside robust military alliances. But, after the Cold War, democracies let down their guard while enemies of freedom seized the day. Insufficient deterrence and resolve; modern relativism and uncertainty about what the Free World stands for and why; and the susceptibility of open, digital age societies to demagoguery and disinformation created openings for anti-democratic powers.

Today, the ideas that we will “never again” ignore intensifying dangers to our humanity and our security and that a Pax Americana will preserve the rules-based international order have been overtaken by reality. Russia’s success (along with Iran and Hezbollah) in saving murderous Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad, its war of conquest in Ukraine, and China’s rapid and massive military build-up and planned subjugation of Taiwan, are among the indicators that we live in a very different world from the one envisioned when the Berlin Wall collapsed. The fact that there are now prison camps in China, North Korea, and Russia to rival those under twentieth-century totalitarianism adds to the disheartening picture. So does the fact that China is steadfastly increasing its nuclear and missile arsenal while North Korean and Iranian nuclear and missile programs are progressing alarmingly.

Furthermore, China’s seat on the UN Human Rights Council and Iran’s leadership of the Council’s Social Forum are glaring reminders of the UN’s deviation from its stated ideals. So too is the way authoritarian regimes succeed in obstructing UN penalties for each other’s extreme human rights violations and breaches of international protocols.

Authoritarian Defense Cooperation

China, Russia, and Iran provide diplomatic cover for the foreign policy misdeeds of each other and constitute an anti-Western axis. Their expansive partnerships enhance the power of all three and impair U.S. influence. They benefit from trade, weapon and technology transfers, joint military exercises, and sanctions breaches. Their militaries recently participated in a third trilateral drill in the Gulf of Oman and the North Arabian Sea. Iranian Foreign Minister Hossein Amir-Abdollahian recently announced that the comprehensive strategic accord forged last year between Iran and China has entered into force. China and Russia implicitly support Iran’s brutal crackdown on brave protestors, and China provides Iran with technology for repression.

Iran supplies attack drones and munitions, while China provides dual-use rifles, body armor, drones, and financial support, for Russia’s ferocious assault on Ukraine. The only “peace” China wants in Ukraine will advantage Russia and strengthen Chinese influence over Europe. Trade between China and Russia rose to $190 billion last year, and China’s imports of Russian energy have increased to $88 billion since Russia launched a full-scale war. Building on Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin’s “unlimited partnership,” Chinese defense minister Li Shangfu recently pronounced that China and Russia would “expand military ties, military-technical ties and arms trade.”

Moreover, Pentagon officials have warned that Russia is providing highly enriched uranium for China’s rapidly expanding nuclear program, that Russia and China are producing space weapons to attack U.S. satellites and bypass U.S. missile defense systems, and that China’s overall military might is on a trajectory to surpass the United States.

Russia and China’s Growing Influence in the Middle East

In backing anti-democratic forces and dictators across the region, worst among them Syria’s murderous Bashar al-Assad, Russia and Iran have pushed the Middle East backward. China, until recently, acted behind the scenes to capitalize on the growing vacuum of U.S. influence. Now it energetically concludes commercial and strategic deals across the Middle East. The recent strengthening of energy, defense, economic and technological partnerships between China and Saudi Arabia and the détente between Saudi Arabia and Iran negotiated by Beijing are on everyone’s mind. Especially bad for human rights, the Saudi-led Arab League member states agreed to a statement endorsing China’s “efforts” and “position” in Hong Kong and “rejecting Taiwan’s independence in all its forms.”

China’s peacemaker status gives it another wedge against America’s hard and soft power and another step forward in creating a China-oriented world order. China’s trade with the Middle East now exceeds that of the United States.

The deterioration of U.S. relations with regional partners and allies like Saudi Arabia and Turkey and Iran’s brazen regional provocations and steadily advancing nuclear program are signs of the times. The United States must, on the one hand, stand firmly against aggressors and atrocity committers and, on the other, cultivate partnerships with countries that, while less than ideal partners from our democratic perspective, can help deter the Free World’s gravest threats. Developing these partnerships need not preclude applying behind-the-scenes pressure regarding human rights nor making arms deals contingent upon basic alignment with American priorities.

Recalling how disparate malign forces capitalized on the conflict in Syria is helpful as we consider how to deal with emerging and converging threats today: Obama administration officials and Arab and European leaders sat idle and quiet as Assad’s brutal crackdown on peaceful protests turned into a war on civilians. They continued to do and say little after Iran and Russia entered the war on Assad’s side and Damascus’ terrible hostilities and atrocities escalated. The White House even entertained Russia’s supposed “peace plans,” which only bought Assad time and cover for more aggression.

Neglect by the United States and the international community under the Obama administration allowed Iran, Russia, and extremist groups, such as al-Nusra Front, Hezbollah, and ISIS, to grow in influence. The Trump administration focused on defeating ISIS but not on the whole confluence of threats. Instead, President Donald Trump continued the moral and strategic retreat trajectory emphasized by the simplistic mantras of avoiding “endless war” and “America First.” Thus, Russia attained power broker status in Syria and military bases from which it tested weapons now used against Ukraine. Iranian militias wreaked endless havoc in Syria, Iraq, Lebanon, Yemen, and elsewhere. Terror groups and drug traffickers gained new footholds. Today, Syria is not just a playground for extremists; it is a narco-state.

The appalling move of many Arab League countries and some Western countries toward normalizing relations with Assad, and President Joe Biden’s apparent acceptance of that trend, reveals an ongoing deficit of U.S. leadership. Making matters worse, the Biden administration failed to build on the Abraham Accords negotiated by the Trump administration and enacted the disastrous Afghanistan withdrawal. Pivots from one region to another that forget the worldwide interconnectedness of modern threats, simplistic equations of hard power with “boots on the ground” and soft power with “cultural appropriation” gave enemies vacuums to fill.

Global Infiltration

Iran, Russia, and China are not only united against the Free World: they’ve created worldwide partnerships with dictatorships and radical forces. Take Iran’s tangled web: Putin’s Belarusan ally Alexander Lukashenko recently visited Iran, where he and President Ebrahim Raisi signed a “cooperation roadmap document.” Iran arms and sponsors Hamas, Hezbollah, Houthi rebels in Yemen, and Shia militias in Iraq. To add to the complex inter-connectedness, Iran uses Syria as a hub for weapons proliferation, relies on bad actors in the UN to relieve pressure on its nuclear program, and benefits from a flourishing arms trade with North Korea.

China’s global network, combined with China’s formidable power, is particularly alarming. Having focused more on mutually profitable economic interaction than on the dramatic rise of China’s military might and geopolitical clout, the West now faces a significant threat to the Free World’s security and way of life. Western dependence on Chinese goods and supply chains and China’s major commercial agreements and loans on every continent augment Chinese power. China has spent over $900 billion on Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) infrastructure, transportation, and mining projects in Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and beyond into Europe and the Americas. Despite setbacks, the BRI has led not only to new security agreements and ports and docking rights for China’s fast-expanding navy but also to the insidious expansion of Chinese information and surveillance technology. The China-Myanmar Economic Corridor and Cambodia’s Ream military base are among new avenues for China’s imperialistic drive.

With minimal pushback until recently, China embedded influencers in Western universities who advanced anti-American goals through Confucius Institutes, sinology programs, and joint scientific research. China has benefited from decades of aggressive espionage and intellectual property theft. Thus, another hazardous confluence we must address is that between certain Western elites and the Chinese government.

Russia, China, and Iran have all dramatically increased their footprint in South America with commercial investments, arms sales, and leasing deals that may lead to military installations. They, along with Cuba, support the extremist socialist dictatorships of Nicolas Maduro in Venezuela and Daniel Ortega in Nicaragua. Russian militias and Iranian drones have helped Venezuela stamp out dissent. Venezuela even hosted Iranian, Russian, and Chinese war games in 2022. Honduras’s decision to drop diplomatic relations with Taiwan, Brazil’s enthusiasm for “deepening ties” with Beijing, and the spread of Confucius Institutes across the region, speak to China’s growing influence.

The alignment of diverse actors working against U.S. interests and the various methods they deploy compound the current challenge. Aggressors see proxy battles, cyber-attacks, energy blackmail, financial exploitation, political corruption, and criminal activity as weapons cooperating with military power. China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea pose the world’s biggest cybersecurity threats, with relentless attacks on democracies. Russia is particularly adept at using paramilitary organizations and disinformation campaigns to destabilize, divide and dominate. China plays an especially strong hand in international organizations and fora. In addition to seeking predominance in, and corrupting, the UN, the WHO, the World Bank, BRICS, the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, and the Community of Latin American and Caribbean states, Xi recently formed “Global Development,” “Global Security,” and “Global Civilization” initiatives.

The United States must capitalize on cases where China, Russia, and Iran have proven dangerous and duplicitous partners. Although more and more governments have sided with China, the Chinese people are usually leery of authoritarian power. America must again become a voice for the oppressed, a beacon of freedom, and a steadfast ally. China’s human rights abuses, especially its genocide of Uyghurs, are horrific. U.S. leaders should stress to non-aligned countries the dire human rights implications for their citizens and others of aligning with the Chinese Communist Party. The United States and its allies must accelerate defense spending, modernization, and military-strategic cooperation. They must demonstrate willingness and capacity to fight for Taiwan if necessary while at the same time working feverishly to deter and preempt China and avoid war.

NATO’s 2022 Annual Report, released this March, cites “the gravest threat to Euro-Atlantic security in decades” and “a more complex and volatile security environment.” The Baltic and Balkan states, in addition to the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea zones, will be further vulnerable if Russia prevails in Ukraine. The Russian military has indeed suffered major setbacks and rejuvenated NATO, but Moscow and its allies see that Western military assistance was incremental. Moreover, the war in Ukraine has not stopped Russia from cyberattacks, information warfare, energy blackmail, and the cultivation of compromised leaders around Europe.

The Need for American Resolve

Adversaries have tested the U.S. resolve and found it lacking. Counting on Washington’s vacillation, they think they can outlast Washington. Indeed, the American response to fast-growing, often interconnected challenges to our security and way of life is too often lumbering, insufficient and unimaginative. Since the end of the Cold War, too few U.S. leaders can or do articulate what the Free World stands for and why. Too few accept the contingencies of hard power or appreciate the wisdom of “peace through strength.” Measures to deter Russia did not prevent hostilities, atrocities, and devastation. That should inform the American and allied deterrence of China and support for Taiwan.

China is pushing the idea of a new world order, and countless countries, international organizations, groups, and entities have, in one way or another, to a smaller or larger extent, signed on. In the meantime, the United States has lost momentum while remaining a great power. America too often appears uncertain or caught off guard. China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea’s nuclear and missile programs and increasing global human rights violations and aggression call for American foreign policy that prioritizes national security, global stability, defense alliances, economic initiatives, and human rights all at once.

It is tempting to ignore some threats for others, pivot away from some regions, or give adversaries the benefit of the doubt. But the Free World lacks that luxury, for enemies of freedom are separately and collectively relentless. Some wonder whether ambivalent and weary America has what it takes to rise to the current challenge. Post-Cold War American foreign policy has generally been reactive rather than preemptive, lacking grand strategy or inspiring rhetoric. The world suffers when American foreign policy is unwise or unreliable and would benefit from a foreign policy revival, one that builds upon America’s best post-World War II traditions and, at the same time, finds new-age solutions for post-Cold War challenges.

Anne R. Pierce is an author, commentator, and scholar of the American presidency, foreign policy, and society. With a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago, Pierce is an appointed member of Princeton University’s James Madison Society and was a Political Science Series Editor for Transaction Publishers. Pierce has written three books and contributed to three others. Her articles have been published in The National Interest, USA Today, US News, The Hill, Washington Examiner, The Washington Times, Providence Magazine, Society, Fox News, Ricochet, World and I,  USEmbassy.gov, and elsewhere.

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Spare satellites are critical for national security—or so the Defense Department believes. In recent months, space policymakers have explored creating a reserve space fleet. They argue that owning backup satellites, rockets, and remote sensing equipment—what economists call “excess capacity”—is a prudent response to growing space threats, especially from China. “It is better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it,” as the old maxim goes. However, it’s far from certain these policies achieve their desired results.

The idea behind excess capacity is simple: governments take steps to maintain larger stocks of important assets than private parties alone would create. For example, the Civil Reserve Air Fleet program, established by Washington after the Berlin airlift, allows the U.S. government to use planes owned by participating commercial airlines during a crisis. The government pays to use the aircraft and gives airlines preferential status when bidding for contracts. Undoubtedly, the program means there are more unused planes than otherwise. For those who fled on those planes during the Afghanistan evacuation, that’s a feature, not a bug.

Historically, excess capacity considerations featured prominently in naval policy. The British Navigation Acts of the seventeenth century are a prime example. A pillar of the imperial-mercantilist regime, the Acts required British goods to be shipped on British ships with British crews. This undoubtedly resulted in excess profits for shipowners at the expense of reduced trade and higher prices for consumers—including the American colonists, who eventually took such great umbrage at these policies (among others) that they separated from the mother country. But it also meant the government could prepare the navy for war faster. Given frequent conflicts with the Dutch, another great maritime power, policies ensuring an ample stock of seaworthy vessels and experienced sailors were prudent for national security.

Adam Smith, the godfather of modern economics, did the world a service by debunking the mercantilist argument that maintaining a favorable trade balance was the key to national wealth. But even he could not totally condemn the Navigation Acts. Although he recognized these protectionist measures were hotbeds of cronyism, he also believed they weakened the Dutch, making British shipping safer. Defense is “of much more importance than opulence,” Smith counseled in The Wealth of Nations. The logic of his argument is the same today as it was 250 years ago.

Similar to the Navigation Acts, the Jones Act in the U.S. reserves trade between American ports to American-made, American-owned, and American-crewed ships. There is no question this makes shipping more costly than otherwise. The justification for the law is maintaining a healthy domestic shipbuilding industry and a robust merchant marine to augment regular naval forces.

Most economists think the Jones Act is a lousy piece of legislation. But not all. Joshua Hendrickson, chair of the economics department at the University of Mississippi, has a contrarian perspective on U.S. maritime policy. Hendrickson finds merit in the classic argument that shipbuilders and the merchant marine, which “can be used for sealift and otherwise diverted or requisitioned for defense purposes,” provide a valuable service during conflicts. Hence the Jones Act should thus be interpreted as a strategic bargain between the government and maritime sectors to maintain national readiness.

Hendrickson claims Jones Act critics overestimate the costs of the law because they get the counterfactual wrong. Repealing the Act would require foreign-flagged ships to “be subject to the same tax, labor, and immigration laws as U.S.-flagged ships.” In a world of second-best policies, government-protected profits for the maritime sector are an adaptive response to the social benefits of having a ready naval auxiliary.

But many trade policy analysts deny this works in practice. Writing for the Cato Institute, Colin Grabow contends the Jones Act has instead caused “dwindling numbers of ships, mariners, and shipyards.” In other words, he claims that the law cannot be justified even on national security grounds. In place of the Jones Act, Grabow recommends establishing a civilian merchant marine reserve, subsidizing wages for merchant mariners, and using foreign mariners during wartime.

All of this is relevant to space policy. There’s growing consensus that space is a warfighting domain. Accordingly, the U.S. Space Force is considering a program called the Commercial Augmentation Space Reserves to ensure an adequate supply of space materiel. America’s armed forces increasingly rely on space-based assets, such as satellite communications networks, for force coordination and projection. What once was the realm of science fiction is now a live concern, as the importance of Starlink satellite internet to Ukraine’s defense recently showed. International rivals such as China and Russia are becoming increasingly adept at targeting space assets; as conflict looms, it’s more important than ever to ensure replacements can be mobilized quickly.

But investments in excess capacity might not be the right approach. Such investments may seem like an obviously desirable insurance policy. The problem is that humans are fallible, and sometimes policymakers act out of self-interest. Private businesses, too, regularly game the system to secure political profits. All excess-capacity policies ultimately grant such profits to privileged suppliers, who will not easily relinquish them even when required by the national interest. If the attempt to bolster supplies hollows out the industries it’s meant to protect, as Jones Act critics contend, we will get the worst of both worlds.

Government-created excess capacity has been a fact of economic and political life for centuries. It isn’t going away anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean we can wash our hands of the debate. As America confronts rising hostile powers and revanchist nations across the globe, we must determine whether these policies actually make us safer and freer.

Alexander William Salter is the Georgie G. Snyder Associate Professor of Economics in the Rawls College of Business at Texas Tech University, a research fellow at TTU’s Free Market Institute, and a Young Voices contributor.

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There is one thing on which seemingly every observer of the war in Ukraine can agree: this war isn’t ending anytime soon.

Russia’s hope—and much of the world’s expectation—of a swift victory was dashed by the stunning repulse outside Kyiv last winter. Despite combined casualties of perhaps 300,000 soldiers, both countries are still seeking victory. It doesn’t appear to be imminent for either side. Russia’s vaunted winter push was a bloody failure, while the recent Department of Defense intelligence leak included U.S. doubts about the prospects for Ukraine’s impending offensive. Vladimir Putin and Volodomyr Zelensky, politically hemmed in by their own ultra-nationalists, are both unable to make major concessions for peace right now, should either even want to.

But Ukrainian endurance for a long war relies almost entirely on outside aid. The majority of military aid—$47 billion of a total of $69 billion to date—comes from the United States. This situation is neither desirable nor sustainable for America, Europe, or Ukraine.

After fifteen months of fighting, Americans are increasingly divided about picking up the bill for this war. A Reuters/Ipsos poll has tracked a year-long decline in American public support for providing military aid to Ukraine, from 73 percent to 58 percent. With the stubborn persistence of inflation, the growing challenge of China, and a federal debt showdown in progress, American wariness about a major, long-term aid commitment to Ukraine is warranted.

President Joe Biden has provided calibrated but consistent support for Ukraine. His potential opponents in 2024 are unlikely to be as steadfast. Both of the leading Republican contenders, Donald Trump and Florida governor Ron DeSantis, view the war as a “territorial dispute” and seek speedy resolution. 

For the United States, Ukraine is not a vital national interest. Even liberal internationalists like the Brookings Institution’s Robert Kagan have conceded that the conflict “does not pose a direct threat to the ‘national interest.’” The Biden administration’s National Defense Strategy rightly labels China, not Russia, as the United States’ most “consequential strategic competitor.” For America, defeating Putin’s invasion is the right thing to do, but it is not an essential thing to do.

Ukraine is far more important to Europe, even if Russia’s manifest military incompetence means that the immediate threat to the rest of the continent is minimal. Four NATO members border Ukraine; the largest, Poland, has already seen ordnance land on its territory. But European nations remain unwilling and unable to check Russia on their own.

Although they contribute an almost identical percentage to global GDP as the United States and boast an additional 100 million citizens, European countries have struggled, collectively and individually, to meet the material demands of the Ukrainian war effort. Decades-long defense neglect has resulted in paltry munitions stockpiles. Germany and Great Britain, with two of the biggest defense budgets on the continent, face dire ammunition shortages for their own forces: each has about enough ammunition for a week of high-intensity combat.

Though total European Union defense spending surpassed €200 billion this past year, EU policymakers quickly learned that funding is moot without production capacity. The European defense industrial base comprises several dozen large firms and 2,500 smaller firms—tens of thousands fewer than the United States. The continent’s defense industrial base is shallow, unable to produce sophisticated equipment at scale. Europe, as the Ukrainians quickly learned, operates up to five times as many different versions of key weapons systems, like tanks and artillery pieces, as the United States. Europe’s target for a revitalized defense industrial base is 2030, but this is an extremely optimistic goal.

The U.S. defense industrial base has also struggled to meet Ukrainian needs, but America’s armaments producers are in better shape than Europe’s. The U.S. Army’s multi-year acquisitional contract model has driven upsurge efforts, creating a steady, augmentable, production stream. The United States entered 2023 producing 14,000 155mm artillery shells a month— 236,000 shells short of Ukraine’s monthly request. Changes in procurement policy have enabled a major expansion: 155mm shell production will increase six-fold within five years.

In the meantime, the United States has drawn on its stockpiles. While this induces a limited degree of strategic risk, the majority of these weapons and munitions were set aside for a potential war against the USSR and then Russia. If they can cripple the Russian military in Ukrainian hands, they are doing what they were meant to do.

While Europe’s defense industries begin the slow and painful path to sufficiency, European money can fill the gap, via American arms and ammunition. For example, Ukrainian tankers will soon begin training on the American M1 Abrams main battle tank. The United States has over 3,000 M1s in storage, far more than it will ever conceivably need, especially as Russia resorts to pulling T-54s and T-55s out of storage to equip its battered brigades. When Ukraine inevitably needs more tanks after the attrition from this coming offensive, European NATO members could purchase a chunk of America’s mothballed M1s and pay for their delivery to Ukraine.

For more squeamish alliance members, paying for most of the non-military aid, currently at $89 billion, is a good option. 

There is a good precedent for such an arrangement: during the First Gulf War, the United States was able to crowdsource over $50 billion from thirty-nine coalition members, though only sixteen countries had forces in the combat zone. Japan, constitutionally restricted from sending troops, paid $13 billion of the war’s cost.

In the long term, Europe needs a more robust defense industrial base and far larger munitions stockpiles. But for the immediate future, buying American can equip Ukrainian troops, attrit the Russian Armed Forces, and ensure Europe has the breathing room to rearm—as Russia surely will.

Training and logistical chokepoints have and will inevitably slow the provision of military aid to Ukraine. But greater European commitment will ensure that Western military aid to Ukraine will be politically, financially, and logistically sustainable. Germany’s recent $3 billion arms package was good news, but far more is needed. Europe is overdue to rearm and reassert itself on its own continent. Picking up most of the bill for Ukraine’s defense against Russia is a needed, and overdue, first step.

Gil Barndollar is a senior fellow at Defense Priorities and a senior research fellow at the Catholic University of America’s Center for the Study of Statesmanship.

Luke Cocchi is a research assistant at the Center for the Study of Statesmanship and a former Defense Security Cooperation Agency researcher.

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The Biden administration can do little to help them.

Unrest over the conviction of opposition leader Ousmane Sonko tests a country long seen as a regional pillar of stability.

As Joe Biden concluded his attendance at the Group of 7, or G7, meeting in Hiroshima, at which his administration orchestrated the group’s opposition to China, Xi Jinping unveiled a plan of his own in a counter-diplomatic move. After a China-Central Asia Summit in northwest China last week, Xi announced plans to boost Central Asia’s development by increasing trade, building infrastructure, and helping bolster its defense production capabilities and law enforcement. This points towards a considerably increased Chinese role in Central Asia.

China’s new initiative in the region is likely to instinctively cause hostility in Washington, but that would be a mistake. The United States does not need and cannot afford to seek primacy everywhere; and for geographical reasons alone, Central Asia will always be a region where American influence will be inferior to that of China and Russia. By engaging in great power competition there, Washington would only divert the United States’ attention and resources from more important regions. In the worst case, it would contribute to regional instability and even conflict.

China’s move comes at a time of waning the United States’ influence in Central Asia after its withdrawal from Afghanistan, as well as waning Russian influence as Russia wages its war in Ukraine. Central Asia has historically been part of Moscow’s traditional sphere of influence, but in the last decade, the region has seen an exponential increase in economic cooperation with Beijing. Last year, trade between China and Central Asia reached a record of $70 billion, with Kazakhstan at the forefront with $31 billion.

Because Russia and China share something similar to a great power “entente” in Central Asia, where Russia is the primary security partner and China is the primary economic power, neither struggles with the other for influence. Both, however, fear that of the United States, and would (successfully) unite strongly to resist it. In addition, both fear the spread of Islamist extremism and ethnic nationalism, which could increase problems with their own Muslim minorities—something that would, it should be pointed out, also threaten American interests. The lack of major terrorist attacks against the United States in recent years does not mean that this threat has gone away.

China’s generous package to Central Asia of 26 billion yuan ($3.8 billion) of financing support and grants makes an embarrassing contrast with the pitiful $50 million offered to the region by U.S. Secretary of State Anthony Blinken during his trip there earlier this year—a difference however that accurately reflects the relative importance of the region to China and to the United States. While the G7 issued a statement condemning China’s belligerence in the South China Seas and its human rights abuses in Xinjiang and Tibet, Central Asian governments appear to welcome a greater role for China.

China last Saturday expressed “strong dissatisfaction” with the communique issued by G7 leaders. China’s foreign ministry retaliated with protest and stated that the G7’s “approach has no international credibility whatsoever" and that the G7 was conducting a smear campaign against China. China also expressed issues with the bloc not showing clear opposition to Taiwanese independence. Additionally, contrary to what the G7 touts, China insisted the bloc was instead responsible for “hindering world peace and inhibiting the development of other countries.”

The G7 and China’s response demonstrate all too clearly that confrontation between the West on one side and China and Russia on the other is increasing and spreading throughout the world, with both sides vying for influence in the Global South. As the global reactions to the war in Ukraine demonstrate, Russia and China have been successful at getting the Global South to see the West as an entity that exploits non-Western states for selfish reasons, and certain Western policies concerning third-party sanctions violations are only adding fuel to the fire.

G7 leaders are adopting new sanctions on Russia designed to reduce Moscow’s ability to circumvent sanctions through third-party deals with states in the Global South. Yet seeking to “punish” non-Western states for trading with Russia will only exacerbate already existing resentment in the Global South over an overly imposing America and what countries may perceive as a violation of the right to their sovereign decisionmaking.

During the G7 meeting, issues concerning economic dependence on Russia and China were also raised among the group of industrialized nations with their invitees Brazil, India, Indonesia, and Vietnam. While the diplomatic pressure for less dependence on Russia and China is understandable for American geopolitical aspirations, it would be naive to assume that the Global South would sacrifice any significant source of income to their country for the sake of American power. In fact, America would probably lose influence if it pressed countries to act in ways that would be counter to their own national interests.

In a similar effort to sway the Global South, at the G7 summit, Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky met with Indian prime minister Narendra Modi, Brazilian president Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, and Indonesian president Joko Widodo to pressure their respective nations into “taking sides” in the war in Ukraine. As traditionally non-aligned countries stemming from the time of the Cold War, and possessing colonial histories that make them deeply skeptical of the West, these nations are unlikely to succumb to rising pressure to overtly support Ukraine. The West should understand that before it pushes them any further away.

On that score, Central Asia is one region where the United States should not try to compete for primacy. Russia and China have far more economic, political, and military investment than the United States does in that region and always will have. If Washington starts to compete with them in Central Asia, it will only turn the region into a zero-sum game between great powers where the United States would be unlikely to gain more influence than Russia and China due to their geographic proximity. Spending valuable resources just to create a constant competition that Washington will inevitably lose is a very poor investment—especially as, following its withdrawal from Afghanistan, the United States has no vital or even significant interests in this region. Such competition would also put the region's stability at risk. So far, countries in Central Asia have been comfortably applying a multivector foreign policy towards China, Russia, and the United States, with America very much third in line. This policy has allowed them to develop economically without encouraging great power competition in their region.

China’s plan for Central Asia risks setting the stage for a new domain of great power competition in the Global South. The United States should refrain from taking the bait, as it were, and should apply similar pragmatism and restraint to other nations in the world that have chosen to be non-aligned in this renewed global struggle. If Washington tries to pressure them into allying with America, it may actually end up driving them into the arms of China and Russia.

Suzanne Loftus is Research Fellow at the Quincy Institute’s Eurasia program. She specializes in Russian foreign and domestic policy, nationalism and identity, and strategic competition between the great powers.

Image: Shutterstock.

As someone who teaches military officers and national security professionals, both at the U.S. Naval War College and at Harvard Extension, I wholeheartedly endorse the points made by Josh Kerbel and Jake Sotiriadis in a recent National Interest column:

…today’s complex strategic environment requires a fundamentally different set of skills. To be sure, we need a strong understanding of strategic foresight, future literacy, and complex systems. We must also acknowledge that today’s hyper-connected strategic challenges are not so much solvable as they are merely manageable. Strategic foresight—which involves the practice of envisioning alternative futures in order to better sense, shape, and adapt to change—can help. It cultivates a tolerance for uncertainty, which cognitive psychology tells us can reduce judgmental bias and promote non-linear thinking.

I would submit, however, that producing better, more innovative strategists capable of providing guidance for navigating this “complex strategic environment” produces a reciprocal charge to policymakers to up their own game. Nothing has frustrated me more over the years than to see creative strategic approaches wither on the vine of policy and political failures.

Reading this essay in conjunction with recent reporting about Washington’s inability to translate wide-ranging, ambitious proposals for Latin American integration and development into concrete policy gains exacerbates my frustration. President Laurentino Cortizo of Panama sums it up: “The speeches are very pretty.” The fault lies not in the strategic thinking, but the dysfunctionality of the U.S. policy process. What makes this so personally painful is for a decade I have seen students coming through our strategic education process chart out how the United States needs to compete using all tools of statecraft against the growing Chinese presence in Latin America—but policymakers are largely unable to act on them, except at the margins. Ricardo Zúniga, who serves in the Biden administration as principal deputy assistant secretary for the Western Hemisphere, acknowledges that the U.S. effort relies on a cobbled-together approach because the big-picture strategic proposals have no way of being translated into action. He told the Financial Times, “Our political reality right now is that there’s not support for expansion of free trade agreements” (which requires Congressional legislation) and instead rested upon “taking advantage of trade facilitation and ... nearshoring opportunities” (by using executive authorities to interpret pre-existing regulations and policies). This is the same challenge Commerce Secretary Gina Raimondo faces as she attempts to stretch executive actions to try and capture some of the strategic benefits (in terms of trade and technological cooperation) among U.S. partners in the Indo-Pacific basin—via the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework (IPEF), which is a poor person’s substitute for the ambitious goal of creating a trading community binding the Pacific rim to the United States.

Yet the lack of binding commitments always undermines the reliability of such proposals. The problem is exacerbated because executive actions are highly dependent on who sits in the White House. An enterprising entrepreneur might have concluded, at the end of 2015, that President Barack Obama’s decision to use his executive authority to commit the United States to the Paris climate framework and to reach a nuclear deal with Iran might create opportunities: a United States committed to reducing emissions (and also engaged in the first wave of economic sanctions against Russia for its annexation of Crimea) might support the rapid development of Iran’s underutilized natural gas reserves (to help offset European dependence on Russia and to use natural gas as a bridging fuel towards a long-term green energy transition). Had Hillary Clinton succeeded in her 2016 presidential bid, that might have been a gamble that paid off. By 2017, however, President Donald Trump had reversed both of those executive actions.

How confident are IPEF countries that announced regulatory changes would last into the next administration—or that President Joe Biden himself might reverse those decisions if domestic interests complained about losses from these efforts? Germany and South Korea both have seen how the administration is whipsawed between promoting the notion of increased trade and technological collaboration among the states of the democratic community, and advancing proposals that sound suspiciously like an “America First” approach. U.S. Trade Representative Katherine Tai is not wrong when she says, “There are actually a lot of countries around the world that really want to be economically engaged with us.” But her efforts to, as she herself describes it, pitch “America as a reliable and positive partner” runs up against these concerns. And, it bears noting, the U.S. approach to Ukrainian security guarantees—to rely not even on an executive agreement, but an even less-binding “memorandum”—shows the risks when certain obligations and courses of action are not solidified into U.S. law and practice.

What this has meant, as my colleague Ali Wyne has often said, is that the United States has tended, over the last decade, to respond to what China does, rather than proactively setting the agenda. And I would argue that while China’s efforts may fail, it is not strategically wise to predicate U.S. policy on expectations of Chinese failure. As we have seen with Russia in Ukraine, Moscow’s ability to prolong its invasion has far outlasted expectations of Russian collapse.

Moving forward, there are two immediate recommendations for policymakers. The first is to return to the legislative process: for Congress and the executive branch to write new laws, enhance regulations, define authorities—and commit funding. Full-fledged free trade agreements may be politically problematic at this time, but there are other legislative building blocks that can be enacted, building on the success of proposals like the CHIPS and Science Act. It requires political figures to assess trade-offs, set priorities, and be prepared to compromise to get proposals in place, following President Ronald Reagan’s old adage about it being better to get 60 percent of what one wants than to go over the cliff flags flying. This includes painful but necessary discussions about where U.S. domestic interests might be negatively impacted, and how that damage might be mitigated.

The second is to also set—and abide—by priorities in our foreign policy. Building a lasting and durable coalition both to develop a security cordon across the Indo-Pacific and Euro-Atlantic basins but also to promote the technological, energy, climate and health partnerships needed to secure the peace and prosperity of the United States and its allies means that Washington has to be able to accept what elements on its “preferences” list it is willing to set aside. For instance, the Biden administration’s proposals for new infrastructure development funds to counter China’s Belt and Road Initiative is going to require commitments from U.S. Gulf allies to deploy their sovereign wealth funds and for India to help reorient supply chains away from the Chinese hub. Yet the United Arab Emirates and New Delhi are not fully committed to joining Western measures to increase economic pressure on Moscow for its actions in Ukraine. Balancing their noncompliance with such measures with the fact that any coalition to offset China requires their active participation requires a nuanced and delicate approach.

Just as in 1989–91, the world today is undergoing major shifts in the global system. We have every right to ask our strategists to be able to assess, analyze and propose ways to secure U.S. national interests in this changed environment. But our policymakers must be prepared to accept their responsibilities to take the hard choices involved in translating strategy into policy.

Nikolas K. Gvosdev is a professor at the Naval War College and the Editor of Orbis. He also co-hosts the Doorstep podcast for the Carnegie Council. The views expressed here are his own.

Image: Shutterstock.