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  • The EU’s Presence and Strategy in the Indo-Pacific

    Throughout 2021, it was clear to all external actors that the EU was set to produce a strategy for cooperation in the Indo-Pacific. After initial Council of the EU Conclusions on 19 April 2021 that set out the main parameters for EU engagement, the European Commission and High Representative set about refining how the EU would boost its presence in the Indo-Pacific region. This was by no means a simple task as only France, Germany and theNetherlands had articulated national positions or strategies on the Indo-Pacific. Indeed, it was not clear how far other EU Member States would buy-in to the process. In this respect, the EU strategy had to stimulate a genuinely EU-wide common interest in the Indo-Pacific and avoid ‘free-riding’ on the backs of those European states with an existing presence in the region.

    CSCAP, Regional Security Outlook 2022

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  • Naval Gazing: The Strategic Compass and the EU’s Maritime Presence

    Abstract

    The EU and its member states will find it increasingly difficult to sustain the rules-based order and the Union’s own economic prosperity without a sizeable and consist- ent investment in maritime power. The politics of the EU’s approach to maritime security is conditioned by questions of geographical priorities and how to balance ‘soft’ and ‘hard’ maritime risks. The Strategic Compass should set measurable targets that lead to a higher and more credible EU naval presence, and it may even instigate a shift in the way the EU thinks about maritime security more broadly.

    EUISS Policy Brief, 2021, No. 16

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  • European Sovereignty: Strategy and Interdependence

    Abstract

    The notion of European ‘strategic sovereignty’ is increasingly important to debates about the European Union. Given rapidly shifting global geopolitical and technology trends, and the seeming fragmentation of the multilateral order, the EU is being forced to confront its own position in international affairs. A number of concepts have been given life because of the deteriorating international scene including ‘European sovereignty’, ‘strategic autonomy’, ‘digital sovereignty’, ‘technological sovereignty’ and ‘open strategic autonomy’. However defined, there is a need to move beyond concepts and focus on the practical nature of economic and technological interdependence, multilateralism and strategic partnerships.

    This Chaillot Paper zooms in on each of these elements of the debate about European sovereignty with case studies that centre on semiconductors, the Iran nuclear deal and EU security and defence partnerships with the United States and United Kingdom. The volume also includes an introductory chapter that grapples with three major conceptual observations about the term strategic sovereignty.

    Chaillot Paper, EU Institute for Security Studies, No. 169 (written with Riccardo Alvaro, Niclas Poitiers, Jana Puglierin, Pauline Weil and Guntram Wolff)

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  • Securing the Heavens: How can Space Support the EU’s Strategic Compass?

    Abstract

    Despite political and industrial divergences between EU member states, space will play an indispensable role in the Strategic Compass. Space is a strategic enabler that can enrich the EU’s approach to crisis management, resilience, capabilities and partnerships, and the Compass is an opportunity to upgrade the status of space and defence within the context of the EU’s broader space policy.

    In line with the EU’s Threat Analysis presented in November 2020*, any response to geopolitical rivalry, military threats, crisis management, climate change, failed states, globalisation and critical supply and communications requires robust space imaging, surveillance, tracking, communication, positioning and navigation capacities.

    The Strategic Compass could lead to initiatives such as the development of a dedicated EU Space and Defence Strategy, investing in existing EU space bodies, financing counter anti-satellite weapon technologies, deploying space attachés in EU delegations, capitalising on the EU Government Satellite Communications programme (GovSatCom) and the Galileo Public Regulated Service (PRS) and more.

    EUISS Policy Brief, 2021, No. 9

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  • Le canal et l’Union : comment la nouvelle crise de Suez déstabilise la géopolitique de l’espace maritime européen

    Depuis quelques jours, un porte-conteneurs géant embourbé dans les sables du canal de Suez bloque 12 % du commerce mondial. Que révèle l’affaire Ever Given de l’espace maritime européen ? Dans cette étude, Daniel Fiott montre qu’il ne faut pas négliger la dimension géostratégique de cet événement.

    Le Grand Continent, 2021

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  • The EU’s Strategic Compass for Security and Defence: What Type of Ambition is the Needle Pointing to?

    Abstract

    For the past twenty years, the EU has deployed numerous missions and operations to different parts of the world and it has agreed on a suite of new initiatives to boost capability development, synchronise defence investment plans and enhance operational capacity. However, there is still a fundamental question facing the EU and its Member States: where is the security and defence policy heading in light of rising geopolitical challenges? Is there a common threat perception among member states? The Strategic Compass offers a way forward on crisis management, resilience, capabilities and partnerships, but it will mean little without sustained political engagement by EU member states. To enhance the EU’s operational capacity, this policy brief argues that it could break the taboo on organising live joint civil-military exercises, it should use the EU Treaties to allow certain member states to undertake specific security and defence tasks and it needs to invest in protecting contested spaces in the global commons.

    CSDS Policy Brief, 2021, No. 2

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  • European Defence, Investment and the Covid-19 Pandemic

    Introduction

    “Please answer the question!” proclaimed newly elected Member of the European Parliament (MEP) Klarissa de Jong. Sitting in an almost empty parliamentary committee room, one of the assembled officials from the Euro- pean Commission retorted: “any decision to invest in capability development through the European Defence Fund is taken by national capitals. We cannot be held responsible for their decisions”. Disgruntled, and annoyed that member state representatives could not be held accountable in the same way, MEP de Jong was dissatisfied with the response. “While I recognise that the Fund did not get the best start back in 2021 with a reduced budget of €7 billion and not the €13 billion you had asked for, the bot- tom line is that the Commission’s own analysis showed that you expected to unlock €4 billion in national investments for every €1 billion spent under the Fund. Tell me, what strategies had you put in place to ensure that you had sufficient member state investment guarantees?”. There was silence in the committee room.

    The MEP’s line of questioning, while math- ematically inaccurate, was nevertheless also echoed in a series of think tank commentary pieces that followed the committee hearing (many more watched the hearing online). One report by the Centre for European Security Affairs (CESA) argued that:

    “Back in 2018, the Commission asked for €13 billion (actually €11 billion if one uses 2018 prices), but by 2020 this had been cut back to €7 billion. Since 2021, the Commission has had to make do with €2.2 billion for defence research and €4.8 billion for capability development for a 7-year period. The US military spends a simi- lar amount on procuring uniforms, so how was this ever going to revolutionise EU defence? Worse still, and largely owing to the pandemic, the €4.8 billion window has failed to leverage the expected 1:4 factor (some €19 billion) in member state commitments.”

    Chaillot Paper, EU Institute for Security Studies, 2021, No. 163

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  • Virtual Congo: Or the Limits of Technological Superiority

    Introduction

    “Damn it!” Hidden behind an armoured vehicle, and looking down at the private’s blood-soaked body, Corporal Kohler began to breathe heavily as bullets whistled past his head. It was the sixth man he had lost this week. As he looked at the court house located in the Poto Poto neighbourhood, he could hear the hum of a distant helicopter, which was soon to land in an adjacent field to the Congolese national civil aviation authority. As the smoke from the flare bellowed into the air, his comrades shouted: “prepare to board the aircraft before we are overrun!” As he ran towards the helicopter he was shot in the head by a sniper. Taking off his headset, Kohler let out a sigh of relief and regained his composure. “OK, this is really getting realistic now… I mean, I am supposed to be dead, right?”

    Kohler had already seen active duty in Brazzaville and he had been advising Paris and Berlin on its military Virtual Reality (VR) programme – called ‘Project Adelphi’ – since the late 2020s. Project Adelphi was initially set up to enhance cyber defences, but by the late 2020s the project had moved on to a second phase of development that assisted operation commanders with the use of VR technology. The VR system would receive live situation feeds from troops based in Brazzaville, and the information was converted into realistic pre-deployment training scenarios for troops. In a sense, the Europeans were fighting a real and virtual war at the same time.

    “It’s getting better”, he said, “but it gets dark much earlier in Brazzaville and there is some- thing not quite right about the red hue used for the evacuation flares.”

    The reality was that the Europeans needed all of the technological help they could get. Europe’s forces had been fighting the militias of the Congolese Party of Labour (CPL) and their allies on the streets of Brazzaville since 2028, but without making any headway – they were winning the virtual war, but losing the real one. War erupted in Congo in 2027 following the death of President Denis Sassou Nguesso in late 2026. Although Nguesso had likely died from natural causes, CPL supporters cried foul play and propagandists hit the government-run Radiodiffusion Télévision Congo to blast opposition forces for poisoning him. They even blamed ‘foreign imperialist powers’ for conspiring to overturn socialism.

    The mind-boggling dimension to the war, however, was that despite the Europeans’ technological superiority they were still hemmed in in Brazzaville and had not ventured outside of the security parameter set up around the Eurocorps headquarters at Maya Maya airport. Pointe-Noire and the rest of the country was still in CPL hands. While it is true that the CPL utilised guerrilla tactics, it was as if the militias were always one step ahead of European forces on intelligence. So, for example, when intelligence assessments showed that CPL militias were planning to attack the World Health Organisation office on Avenue du Général De Gaulle, the attack would take place at the Palaisdes Congrès on Boulevard des Armées instead. For all of the advances embodied by Project Adelphi, European soldiers were still coming home in body bags at an alarming rate and this had badly affected morale. Many European troops half-joked that a trip to Brazzaville was a ‘one way ticket’.

    …

    The summer of 2030 was the bloodiest phase of the conflict for the Europeans – since their deployment in 2028 Eurocorps had lost 400 troops. It was a brave political decision by European leaders to deploy Operation Vanguard to protect their oil interests in Congo, the operation began as a genuine peace-keeping deployment 100 to separate the CPL and opposition Pan-African Union for Social Democracy (UPADS) militias. The death of President Nguesso was the trigger for the conflict, but the reality was that his death exposed deeper problems such as years 75 of poverty and inequality and the huge loss of oil revenues given chronically low crude prices throughout the 2020s – Congo relied on oil for 50% of its GDP.

    Early in 2030, the fighting intensified as the UPADS called for the exiled Mireille Lissouba – who had replaced her late father as the head of the party – to return as the rightful leader of Congo. The CPL was also rejuvenated as 25 it acquired ever more sophisticated weaponry that docked in Pointe-Noire. Additionally, the Chinese government announced a new round of debt relief for the country, which alleviated the financial strains. Many had thought that the Chinese would intervene militarily themselves, and they had every reason to given their close relationship with the CPL. The 2026 Beijing Summit of the Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC) had stressed the importance of Congo to the Belt and Road Initiative, and it was no secret that Beijing wanted to invest in port infrastructure in Pointe-Noire – there were even reports that China wanted to build its first Atlantic Ocean naval base there. Yet, the Chinese resisted the temptation to directly intervene.

    Approximately 1,200 Eurocorps troops were deployed to Brazzaville, and in 2030 they were still locked down in the capital. CPL forces had cut off the two major roads (the RN1 and RN2) into the capital and Maya Maya airport was the only safe logistical spot for the Europeans. Eurocorps patrols would leave the safe zone near the airport for regular reconnaissance trips, but it was still too risky to venture too far. The population density of Brazzaville did not help. The 1.7 million residents living in the city accounted for more than a quarter of Congo’s total population, and sanitary conditions and the built environment of densely packed houses made the combat zone rather inhospitable.

    However, 2 years after the initial deployment European forces were still on the back foot and Project Adelphi was not helping with military intelligence gathering. For example, in the spring of 2030 it was made known to Eurocorps that CPL forces had taken up command posts in Brazzaville’s 9 major hospitals. Yet when European forces decided to storm the Hôpital d’Instruction des armées de Brazzaville, CPL snipers picked off troops from high rise buildings on Avenue de l’Amitié. Eurocorps forces believed that recently installed CCTV cameras were feeding information to CPL forces, but most were taken out and still CPL forces were one step ahead. What is more, when Eurocorps attempted to run public communication campaigns through text and internet messages frequent communication blackouts would occur at the same time. Such blackouts would never occur when the CPL were running their own public strategic communication campaigns.

    …

    By mid-2031 the game was up for European forces. After three years of combat in Brazzaville, and following the loss of over 520 soldiers (among them Corporal Kohler), Eurocorps governments were calling time on Operation Vanguard. This decision was not taken lightly, but a major media report by Le Monde and the Süddeutsche Zeitung gave no option. The special report stated that European forces were being outwitted in Brazzaville by a smartphone app called ‘Clé’. This was hardly news, as recovered smartphones had revealed that Clé was used as the primary communication tool between CPL forces. European intelligence also knew that CPL fighters used Elikia and Moke smart-phones, which were produced by the Congolese tech-firm VMK – the company shipped generic phones in from Shenzhen, China, before stamping them with ‘Made in Congo’.

    This was not the real story, though, as it was revealed that Clé was not just a messaging app – it was actually used as a geolocation tracker of all European troops based in Brazzaville. No wonder CPL forces could target European troops so easily and deceive them so readily in Brazzaville’s labyrinthine streets. All of the communications and sensor technologies used by Eurocorps forces – from smart watches to satellite communications – were being used by CPL militias to pick off European troops. Clearly, VMK did not possess the technological know-how to make this work and the Le Monde and Süddeutsche Zeitung report revealed two further pieces of earth shattering news.

    First, according to reliable sources Clé was connected to a mainframe system colloquially called ‘Écluse’. It was not clear how Écluse functioned but the theory was that it was a supercomputer system that combined geolocation tracking data with other information stolen from European forces. The report went on, secondly, to reveal that Project Adelphi’s VR scenarios had also been hacked by a foreign intelligence service. As Adelphi was using real-time battle information to help European forces gain more situational awareness of the conflict in Brazzaville, it was simultaneously being hacked to reveal European tactics and strategic assessments. The more and more Europeans learned about the war through Adelphi, the more and more Écluse would relay the information to CPL handsets via the Clé app. Beijing had denied any role, but it did not matter: Europe had lost both its virtual and real wars.

    Chaillot Paper, EU Institute for Security Studies, No. 161

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  • Going viral? EU defence and the response to COVID-19

    By now, we are familiar with the serious risks posed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Militaries across Europe have been praised for their role in delivering medical supplies, transporting patients, testing citizens and building makeshift hospitals. Notwithstanding the current second and possible future waves of the virus, however, attention is turning away from response towards the long-term economic implications of the pandemic on European defence. In this respect, many analysts were quick off the mark to document the potential dangers that COVID-19 could have for defence budgets and capability development. These analysts rightfully pointed out that any future budgetary “black hole” left after the virus would have a dramatic effect on European defence, and more than the 2008 financial crisis ever did. The simple math shows what they mean. In 2008, a -4.5 per cent drop in EU GDP resulted in a 24 billion euro fall in defence spending over six years. Today, the European Commission calculates that the EU will experience a -7.2 per cent drop in GDP in 2020 alone.

    Paper in “The Quest for European Strategic Autonomy – A Collective Reflection”, 2020

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  • Sovereignty over Supply? The EU’s Ability to Manage Critical Dependences while Engaging with the World

    Abstract

    Fears about the EU’s trade, resource and technology dependences have only grown since the outbreak of the pandemic, even though US-China trade disputes and the rolling out of 5G have played a significant role, too. Some analysts have pointed to the beginning of a ‘decoupling’ of certain supply chains away from China, and, while evidence suggests that some ‘reshoring’ has taken place since at least 2011, there are debates about whether the production of certain technologies should be relocated back to Europe after decades of de-industrialisation. Decoupling and/or reshoring are a reaction to geopolitically risky dependences, with the fear being that certain products, technologies or raw materials will be unavailable during times of crisis or that a reliance on third-party supplies will limit political freedom. In the digital age – where data dominates – there are also concerns that dependences may lead among other things to espionage or a curtailment of personal rights and freedoms. Despite the fact that decoupling is unfeasible, save perhaps for in very specific critical technology domains, the threat perception surrounding critical supplies has given rise to a different vocabulary and EU communiques and strategies are today replete with references to ‘technological sovereignty’, ‘open strategic autonomy’ and ‘digital sovereignty’.

    EUISS Policy Brief, 2020, No. 21 (written with Vassilis Theodosopoulos).

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