Russia and Democratic Europe

DN Opinion

The Russian siege and Europe's response

Victor Ângelo
International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

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Published on: 25 Sep 2026, Diário de Notícias, Lisboa, Portugal
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The recent Duma elections were well staged. They confirmed the internal control exercised by the regime, the decision to continue the illegal war against Ukraine, and Vladimir Putin's structural policy against Europe, which has gradually evolved from occasional provocations to a strategy of persistent and calculated pressure.

Moscow operates on several complementary fronts: sabotage, cyberattacks, electronic signal jamming, the instrumentalization of migrants, propaganda, military intimidation, and support for extremist and pro-Russian political forces. The purpose is not to immediately destroy Western capabilities—not for lack of will, but through strategic calculation. In reality, it is about testing and exposing the political frailties of democratic Europe, with actions surgically below the threshold of NATO's Article 5. The authorship of these actions is systematically denied, exploiting the inherent slowness of democracies in gathering evidence and making decisions. Putin is an expert at transforming political doubt into an instrument of equivocation and at fostering fractures among allied nations.

This pressure materializes on coordinated fronts that many insist on treating as isolated incidents. From Kaliningrad and other unidentified locations, satellite navigation disruptions are already a recurrent issue, affecting aviation and maritime navigation across a vast swath between Poland and Scandinavia. In terms of sabotage, the damage to submarine telecommunication cables in the Baltic Sea since 2024 is now compounded by the threat in the Arctic, where a Russian military unit has reportedly studied ways to disable the region's cables. On the land borders, the migratory instrument orchestrated via Belarus has adapted: in response to the physical barriers erected in Poland, the pressure has shifted towards Lithuania and Latvia through new tactics.

Often treated in isolation by certain political sectors and parts of public opinion, the war of aggression against Ukraine is not a parallel conflict: it is the most brutal manifestation of this very same strategy. There are those who still fail to grasp this connection, viewing support for Kyiv as a mere gesture of solidarity or an obligation that is difficult to justify—a tragic misreading. While on the rest of the continent Moscow operates in the grey zone to avoid collective retaliation, in Ukraine it resorts to direct military force to achieve the same end: to subjugate democracies and unilaterally redraw European security. Support for Ukraine must therefore be unequivocally integrated into the broader framework of defending democratic Europe. Ukraine is our first trench.

Europe's vulnerability, however, is predominantly political and internal. The Kremlin finds Trojan horses within the very heart of the European system: certain extremist parties and movements. Whether through submission, ideological convergence, or financing, or through anti-Americanism or xenophobic repudiation of European integration, these forces ultimately serve Moscow's objectives. By normalizing the Russian narrative, attacking NATO, hindering aid to Kyiv, and sowing scepticism towards European institutions, these extremes amplify the hybrid war.

The European response is dangerously asymmetrical. On the eastern and Nordic flank, the response to the threat is already State doctrine: Finland has integrated hybrid analysis into its comprehensive defence, Estonia is investing in digital resilience, and Warsaw and Vilnius are preparing for escalation scenarios. In Western and Southern Europe, the awakening has been delayed. Although there are shifts in perception and policy in Berlin, Paris, London, Rome, and even Brussels, the response remains too slow, bureaucratic, and fragmented.

This delay reveals a certain incomprehension of the autocratic vision of the regime led by Vladimir Putin. The risk encompasses all of Europe outside the Russian orbit, from the Ukrainian front and the Baltic region to the North Atlantic. Anyone in Lisbon or other European capitals who deems Russia to be distant and their country safe from hybrid attacks demonstrates an embarrassingly naive attitude. In a multidimensional war, traditional geography is no longer a shield. To underestimate this reach is to directly imperil Portuguese critical infrastructure—most notably the Atlantic submarine cables, ports, airports, and energy networks. It is to forget that these connections, if sabotaged, will affect not only our country but a significant part of the West.

This vulnerability is currently exacerbated by the uncertainty surrounding the American commitment. The political distance between Europe and the US continues to widen. They are two perspectives seemingly in the process of divorce. The announced review of the US posture in Europe, involving troop reductions and greater conventional responsibility for allies, has its justifications and will ultimately strengthen European autonomy, but it requires a realistic timetable. The Kremlin is well aware of Western deterrence's reliance on the credibility of its guarantor, and it exploits any hesitation to intensify the pressure.

Russia takes advantage of our difficulty in operating within this intermediate zone between peace and war. It no longer limits itself to testing our degree of tolerance; the signals it sends us should be a cause for concern. It will most likely not act against our part of Europe in the same way it has in Ukraine since 2014, with the occupation of Crimea and the war in the Donbas, and since 2022, with the full-scale invasion. Putin recognizes that an attack on a NATO member could trigger the collective response provisioned in Article 5 and that clandestine actions, including false-flag operations, complicate the unequivocal attribution of responsibility. His political leadership prefers clandestine actions, typical of secret services, agencies in which Putin places a higher degree of trust than in the armed forces. The time has thus come for democratic Europe to abandon its old naivety, grow up, and take its rightful place at the table of international relations: Diplomacy and Defence.

Responding to a critique of my BRICS Summit text

My text about the BRICS Summit, available in this blog, was written the day before the meeting in New Delhi.

A preview is not a verdict smuggled in before the evidence. It is a thesis offered for the meeting to test. New Delhi was the test. 

The meeting happened. The record is public. It does not do the work you want it to do.Start with what you treat as refutation. Iran and the UAE held their highest-level contact since the war began. That is true, and it is not trivial. It is also not BRICS acting as a strategic unit. It is two members, sitting on opposite sides of a shooting war, using the host’s rooms to talk.

The same two members had already blocked a foreign ministers’ text in May.

The leaders’ declaration exists because Indian diplomats spent days sanding the language until nobody had to name the United States, Israel, Iran, or the strikes on Gulf territory. “Maximum restraint” and “deep concern,” with national positions recalled in a subordinate clause, is not the cure for tactical paralysis. It is paralysis transcribed into 140 paragraphs. Consensus by omission is still consensus. It is not capacity.

The same holds for the other bilaterals. Modi and Xi discussed border stability. Modi and Putin set a $100 billion trade target for 2030. Those meetings matter. They would have mattered in a hotel corridor without a BRICS logo on the backdrop. 

Present trade is in the region of $65 billion, and the Indian side has been explicit that most of that is Russian oil. A target weighted toward energy shipments is a bilateral energy relationship, not a new payments order. 

When the institution’s value is the corridor, the plenary is the spectacle.

You then enlarge the declaration into a programme. It covers tariffs, coercive measures, the Middle East, terrorism, AI, quantum, digital public infrastructure, a grain exchange, local-currency settlement, NDB lending in local currency, a startup fund under consideration. Listing topics is not the same as moving them. The approved text does not name Ukraine. It does not name the United States on tariffs. It condemns unilateral coercive measures in the abstract and then goes home. 

Whether any of the technical work proceeds is, as you say, a fair question. Calling a document that cannot mention the two largest wars involving its members a strategic coming of age is not.

On payments you accuse me of scoring a test nobody sat. Fine: nobody in New Delhi tabled the yuan as a global reserve currency. India and Brazil would not wear it, for the capital-control reason everyone in the room understands. The live project is interoperability — UPI, Pix, the digital renminbi — plus settlement in national currencies. That work is real, slow, and worth doing. It is also not what the political advertising of this grouping has been for years. The public claim has been an alternative to dollar dominance.

Measuring the summit against the claim its members make when they speak to their own audiences is not a trick. It is taking them at their word.The AIIB point is narrower, and here you land a hit. The bank has a shareholder list that includes Britain, France, Germany, Canada and Australia. London joined as a founder against Washington’s advice. That institution is not a BRICS vehicle, and folding it into the New Delhi story as if it were was a category error. I should not have done it. The error does not rescue the rest of the architecture argument. It simply means the AIIB should be debated as a China-led multilateral with Western capital in it, which is a different and more interesting fight than the one you want.

The NDB is the opposite of a gotcha. The bank halted new business in Russia because American secondary sanctions made the alternative too expensive to operate. You present this as proof that the institution is not Beijing’s political instrument. I presented it as proof that the instrument cannot do the job advertised for it: shelter a founding member from the system it was created to dilute. Both sentences can be true. Only one of them answers the question my column asked. If the “parallel” bank does what Washington requires when the choice is real, the parallelism is conditional. Fragility is the right word for that. Loyalty to Beijing is a separate accusation, and not the one that matters here.

Then the frame. Yes, the criticism of Bretton Woods is legitimate. Quota review has been stuck for a decade. The Fund’s leadership conventions are a Wester relic. An American blocking minority over major IMF decisions is a political fact. None of that converts every communiqué in New Delhi into a working substitute. You set up a closed circuit: reform is vetoed, therefore the alternative must be treated as architecture, and if the alternative is called thin, the critic has left the victims of the veto with “patience.” That is not an argument. It is a demand that disappointment with the IMF be honoured by inflating BRICS. 

States in that position have ordinary options: coalition-building inside the Fund, bilateral swap lines, payment links, commodity trade in local currency. They are already doing some of them. They do not become a new order by being stapled to a 45-page text that cannot say “Ukraine.”

As for the adjectives: they are judgments. The declaration’s silence on a war fought by a founding member is not “abyssal” because a columnist likes the word. It is the measurable gap between the group’s census — eleven members, a large share of population and output — and its ability to describe the world it inhabits. If that register reminds you of agitprop, the remedy is a counter-list: a named loan book that replaced sanctioned finance at scale, a settlement system that cleared Russian or Iranian trade without dollar reach, a Middle East paragraph that could survive contact with the members who were shooting at each other.

You have the talks, the target, and the text. Produce the rest.

Xi skipping the General Assembly is a minor exhibit and I will not lean on it. Leaders skip that General Assembly week. But Xi is a keyn speaker for multilateralism. He should be in New York to show its attachment to the top multilateral organisation. 

You might think that atttendance is a weak test of multilateral sincerity. The stronger test is whether a grouping built to contest the existing order can, when it meets, name the conflicts that divide it and fund the alternatives it announces. 

New Delhi named almost nothing and funded nothing new. That is not a prediction written in the future tense. It is in the minutes.

The BRICS New Delhi Summit

 A Dysfunctional Coalition in the Shadow of Beijing: The BRICS+

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published: 11 Sept 2026, 02:34

The BRICS+ Summit, taking place in New Delhi on the 12th and 13th of September, will essentially be yet another spectacle of geopolitical illusions. The grouping, which began as a platform of financial convenience initiated by Vladimir Putin (with its inaugural summit in 2009), has been successively instrumentalised. Initially, it served Russia as a means to project power and circumvent its isolation; today, it is additionally the principal vehicle for China's hegemonic ambition in the so-called Global South.

Moscow originally viewed the BRICS as a further instrument to force the narrative of a multipolar world in which Russia would maintain the status of an indispensable superpower. Particularly following the escalation of tensions in Eastern Europe, the bloc was envisaged as a diplomatic shield and a financial alternative capable of neutralising Western sanctions. However, harsh economic reality and prolonged isolation have dictated new rules: the Russia of today, increasingly reliant on the export of hydrocarbons at discounted prices to Asia and the importation of critical technology, has been reduced to the status of a subaltern partner to Beijing's colossal economic machine.

It is China that now wields the baton and sets the strategic compass of the grouping. Xi Jinping has grasped that, to challenge the Euro-Atlantic order consolidated since 1945, Chinese economic and military might was insufficient; it was imperative to constitute and lead a coalition that would serve as a counterbalance to the Western bloc.

The 2024 expansion, with the entry of Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, and the United Arab Emirates, along with the integration of Indonesia in 2025, aimed to serve this ambition. Nevertheless, formidable obstacles remain. From the outset, the desire to promote the yuan as a reserve currency, replacing the US dollar, is hindered by a structural contradiction: Beijing refuses to relinquish its stringent capital controls. So long as these controls remain in place, the yuan will struggle to become a credible global reserve currency.

The bloc's discourse regarding the reform of the Bretton Woods institutions, however, rests upon criticisms that ought not to be dismissed. For decades, the IMF and the World Bank have been legitimate targets of contestation: the quota review, ratified only in 2016, left China and India under-represented relative to their share of global GDP. The United States preserves a de facto veto over structural decisions, and Europe maintains a monopoly over the leadership of the IMF, reflecting an overarching governance still tethered to the geopolitics of 1944.

Although this Western inertia presents the BRICS+ with a genuine and unifying rallying cry, there is an abyssal difference between reforming multilateral institutions and constructing parallel architectures. China has unequivocally opted for the latter course. The New Development Bank (NDB) and the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB) did not merely emerge to rectify systemic deficiencies for the sake of global equity. They were also conceived to allow Beijing to finance strategic projects, more or less aligned with the Belt and Road Initiative. These are political projects, not merely developmental ones. By failing to incorporate robust requirements for transparency, debt sustainability, and good governance, they frequently serve to establish a supremacy built upon fragile foundations.

The enlargement of the BRICS has exponentially increased its demographic weight, yet it has fatally diluted its cohesion. By housing democracies and autocracies under the same roof, alongside economies highly integrated into global markets and regimes asphyxiated by sanctions, the group has become chronically dysfunctional.

An organisation that attempts to harmonise the interests of Iran and the United Arab Emirates, or that harbours the border, technological, and military rivalry between India and China, is condemned to tactical paralysis. The NDB itself illustrates this fragility: with subscribed capital insufficient for the colossal needs of the Global South, the bank found itself compelled to suspend its operations in Russia, faced with the threat of American secondary sanctions.

In this landscape of precarious balances, Narendra Modi, the summit's host, will focus on immediate pragmatism, ensuring that India is not dragged into an anti-Western crusade. Modi will restrict the agenda to the realm of the possible: fostering intra-bloc trade (which continues to be eclipsed by these countries' exchanges with the G7); developing interoperable cross-border payment systems outside the SWIFT network; cooperating in the digital and Artificial Intelligence sectors; and promoting bilateral trade in local currencies (yuan, rupees, reais, roubles), albeit always with the underlying concern of averting the replacement of a dependence on the dollar with a new submission to the yuan.

India and Brazil draw the principal dividing line within the bloc here: both advocate for a reform of multilateral systems, but neither supports the radicalisation of the BRICS+. For India, the grouping is merely one of several options for its strategic autonomy. Modi plays simultaneously with Washington, Canberra, and Tokyo within the framework of the QUAD, well aware that the true threat to Indian sovereignty and territorial integrity emanates from across the Himalayan borders and from the naval hegemony of its neighbouring Asian superpower, rather than from Washington.

The final image that the New Delhi Summit will endeavour to project will be one of unity and cooperation. However, the true metric of global geopolitical priorities will reveal itself the following week, during the high-level segment of the UN General Assembly in New York.

Xi Jinping, who at the BRICS will mount his customary ideological defence of inclusive multilateralism, does not plan to travel to the United Nations headquarters to participate in the General Assembly. Instead, on the 24th, a stone's throw from New York, he has scheduled a bilateral meeting at the White House with Donald Trump. The choice exposes the chasm between Chinese rhetoric and its practical interests: political narratives may marshal followers, but the grand decisions concerning the world order continue to be negotiated, above all else, in the bilateral arena of the superpowers.

The 2026 rentrée: Europe in search of a seat at the table

September Rentrée 2026

 A year ago, in the August 29 edition of Diário de Notícias (Portugal), I wrote that the 2025-2026 rentrée appeared unpromising: paralysed multilateral institutions, diplomacy reduced to a spectacle, frequent violations of international norms, and protracted conflicts, all within the framework of a threatened, hesitant, and divided European Union. The subsequent 12 months have confirmed this diagnosis. This year's rentrée is even more challenging: instability and threats to global peace and security have increased considerably.

What makes this rentrée decisive is not merely the simultaneous gravity of these multiple crises and their unpredictability. It is the fact that they reveal, ever more clearly, that Europe will only be able to protect its interests, its citizens, and its values if it strengthens its political unity.

We face a continuum of progressively interconnected crises: the environmental crisis has worsened; the war against Ukraine has intensified, parallel to a crescendo of Russian threats against democratic Europe; in the Middle East, violence has no end in sight; in Sudan, the humanitarian collapse continues with an indifference and brutality that mirror the international disorder in which we live. Upon this web has now fallen a dangerous race to develop artificial intelligence, contested by Washington, Beijing, and a small number of corporate behemoths with inconceivable financial and political capabilities.

The clearest symptom of this disorder is the lack of respect for the political role of the UN, today held hostage by rivalries among the US, China, and Russia. António Guterres concludes his mandate this coming December 31. There is still no consensus on a candidate capable of breaching the wall of the great powers' veto. There is a risk of entering a carousel of uncertainty—a geopolitical death pit that will lead to the selection of a candidate who is convenient and obedient across the board. The United Nations, which we so desperately need, would in that case enter a new level of decadence.

It was within this vacuum that, at the end of August, the CIA Director, John Ratcliffe, travelled to Moscow—not to speak with Putin, but with the heads of the SVR (foreign intelligence) and the FSB (internal security), to whom he went so far as to propose a trilateral summit between Trump, Putin, and Zelensky. Washington called this routine. In practice, it was an exercise in excluding European intelligence services and UN rules. It was also, on the Russian side, an example of their customary guile: discussing matters among spies, rather than with the Head of State, is the classic way to deny Kremlin involvement, buy time, and pursue the intent of fracturing NATO and the EU. Moscow's objective has little to do with peace in Ukraine or with inviolability and security in democratic Europe. Moscow seeks to gain time to achieve its ends. And it is precisely this episode that accurately measures the true weight of the European Union: as long as the timetable is defined by Washington and Moscow, without Brussels having a seat in the room, Europe will continue to be the object, the spectator, and a passive element in the global game.

There are those who draw a pessimistic conclusion from this and look to the near future with great concern—those who believe Europe is condemned to irrelevance. It is fundamental to combat this idea and to remember, with courage and concrete proposals, that it is necessary to advance towards a federation of European States. Where Europe has genuinely united—in the areas of trade, competition, the single market, and currency—it negotiates as a power. Where it has settled for intergovernmental coordination, subject to the veto of each member—in Defence, foreign relations, financial markets, and critical industries—the EU carries little to no weight against Washington, Moscow, or Beijing, as the Ratcliffe episode has just confirmed. Nor can it count on the support or respect of any leader from those capitals.

In realistic terms, the 2026-2027 political year should translate into a strengthening of integration among those States that grasp the scale of the risks we face. As Mario Draghi has argued, whoever wishes to join, joins; whoever wishes to block, can no longer impede the others. This is not merely about the economy. At stake are sovereignty, defence, our geopolitical choices, the dignity of citizens, and the protection of our humanistic values.

Yet this institutional federalism does not, by itself, resolve the other fracture crossing the European space: the worsening of social inequalities. There is an increasing concentration of wealth at the top of social pyramids, running parallel to the precarisation of the middle classes and the poorest. This results in an erosion of the material foundation of democracies, allowing the expansion of demagogic and populist movements. This applies to the Portuguese situation as to so many other European societies, where the mainstream governing parties convince citizens less and less, and social impatience grows. Many of our governments manage reality with the rhetoric of the last century.

The external strength of the EU must rest upon an internal social contract that promotes optimism, equality, and trust in political leaders. Without this foundation, any attempt at federation will be an architecture without foundations.

A year ago, I found it difficult to be optimistic. I continue to think so. But we cannot lose hope or fall into naivety. Now, in September 2026, the die is cast. Therefore, the challenge is to strengthen our union, without subordination and without having to ask permission from those who wish to make calculations without consulting us.

Vladimir Putin and today's Russia

 https://victorangelo1.substack.com/p/putins-grip-on-power-where-it-stands

A review of Vladimir Putin's absolute control of power.

The CIA Director goes to Moscow: what for?

 https://victorangelo1.substack.com/p/the-cia-in-moscow-why-spies-not-diplomats

The geostrategic soup: USA, Russia, Europe and the near future

The selection of the new UN Secretary-General in a complex international context

 

UN: A New Secretary‑General in a Fragmented World

Victor Ângelo

The United Nations Security Council will next week enter a new phase in selecting the next Secretary‑General. The vote will be informal, and each candidate will receive one of three assessments: encouragement, discouragement, or no opinion. This step unfolds against an international landscape marked by political fragmentation, strategic rivalry, and a growing scepticism about the capacity of multilateral institutions to respond to shared global challenges. The successor to António Guterres will inherit not only an agenda crowded with crises, but also the responsibility of demonstrating that global problems can only be confronted through some degree of collective cooperation.

For decades, and until the early years of this century, there existed a minimal consensus around the need for a shared international development agenda. That spirit animated the Millennium Development Goals (2000) and re‑emerged, with greater ambition, in the Sustainable Development Goals (2015). Today, however, that consensus has weakened. The rhetoric of cooperation persists, but the political action that once sustained it has been profoundly eroded.

Three structural factors help explain this deterioration.

The first is the intensification of competition among major powers. Development, infrastructure, technology, and global governance have ceased to be mere domains of cooperation; they have become instruments of power. The most influential states now compete over norms, markets, strategic dependencies, and institutional spaces. The Security Council — which should be the principal forum for building compromise — has proved increasingly unable to produce the necessary and lasting agreements.

China seeks to occupy this space through its global initiatives on Development, Security, Civilisation and, since September 2025, Global Governance, recently complemented by the creation of the World Artificial Intelligence Cooperation Organisation (WAICO). These initiatives follow the Belt and Road framework launched by Xi Jinping in the previous decade. China’s official vocabulary is multilateralist, yet in practice these proposals compete with Western initiatives — such as the G7 Partnership for Global Infrastructure and Investment (2022) — and with the UN itself. What is at stake is not merely the financing of roads, ports, digital networks, or energy systems, but the definition of standards, the establishment of financing criteria, the shaping of political choices, and the moulding of the international environment in which developing countries make decisions.

The second factor is the governance of technology. Robotics and artificial intelligence can free labour from repetitive or dangerous tasks, accelerating progress in health, education, science, and public administration. But without common rules and shared oversight mechanisms, these technologies risk concentrating economic and political power, deepening inequalities, and reducing the autonomy of entire societies. The Sino‑Western dispute over AI norms makes the creation of multilateral forums capable of setting minimum standards even more urgent.

The third factor is the digital transformation of societies. Social media have profoundly altered how citizens perceive the world, relate to one another, and participate in public life. The philosopher Byung‑Chul Han — an exceptionally original thinker and recipient of the Princess of Asturias Award for Communication and Humanities (2025) — argues that digital capitalism fosters an individualism centred on self‑exposure and egocentrism. This “society of the self” erodes empathy and generates indifference towards collective causes: distant poverty, other people’s wars, the climate crisis, or institutional fragility. A kind of civic anaesthesia has taken hold. Added to this is the impact of transnational disinformation, which crosses borders at digital speed and shapes public perceptions, political decisions, and even the legitimacy of multilateral institutions.

Faced with this landscape of public apathy and interstate rivalry, the next Secretary‑General will need to define priorities that are both realistic and politically sustainable. Even before doing so, he or she must redesign the UN’s relationship with the expanding ecosystem of regional organisations and cooperation platforms led by Global South states. Bodies such as the African Union, ASEAN, CELAC, the Arab League, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, BRICS+, WAICO, and the Belt and Road Initiative now shape strategic decisions on security, infrastructure, technology, and finance. They are not merely complementary forums: they are instruments of political and economic influence that sometimes compete with the UN’s universal coordinating role. The challenge for the next SG will be to cooperate with these entities without allowing them to replace the UN’s normative and universal function, ensuring that institutional fragmentation does not become normative fragmentation.

The first priority should be a proposal for reform of the Security Council. Without a composition more representative of contemporary geopolitical realities, without greater presence of emerging powers, and without some limit on the paralysing effect of the veto, the Council will continue to lose legitimacy and effectiveness. Bringing it closer to the General Assembly and making it more accountable to the international community will be equally essential.

The second priority should be the protection of multilateral mechanisms that still produce globally beneficial consensus: public health, food security, climate action, humanitarian assistance, migration, sustainable development, and conflict prevention. These are areas where cooperation remains possible and where the UN retains clear added value.

The third priority will require particular attention to the definition of minimum standards for technological governance, especially in the field of artificial intelligence. The aim is not to impose a single model, but to avoid normative fragmentation that leaves the most vulnerable countries at the mercy of private interests or strategic pressure from major powers.

Rebuilding trust means identifying concrete areas where cooperation remains viable, creating incentives for it to prevail over rivalry, and demanding greater political responsibility from those who weaken institutions serving common interests. It also requires clearer rules for digital platforms, whose impact on public opinion and democratic quality can no longer be treated as a secondary matter.

The choice of the next Secretary‑General matters, but it will not be sufficient. Equally decisive will be the quality of the team that accompanies him or her, its independence from the pressures of its countries of origin, and its ability to build bridges without becoming captive to any bloc. The central challenge is not to restore a lost faith in international solidarity, but to construct more modest, pragmatic, and persistent forms of collaboration in a world where interests diverge, power is more dispersed, and trust is becoming an increasingly scarce resource.

Europe and the big powers: be strategic

 

Europe and the Illusion of Permanent Allies

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 17 Jul 2026

This week, yet another uncomfortable question arose regarding the Hormuz crisis. What legitimacy does a big power have to treat the chokepoints of global trade – and the States that depend upon them – as mere means to its own ends? On Monday, the President of the United States proclaimed himself the "Guardian of the Strait of Hormuz" and imposed a 20% tax on commercial transit through this maritime corridor. On Tuesday, he backtracked and annulled the measure. He did so under pressure from his Gulf allies.

The episode revealed a lack of strategic discernment – an essential quality in any leadership. Acumen is not hesitation, cowardice, or tactical calculation. It is the ability to assess the consequences of a decision before announcing it; to distinguish between what is legally possible, politically acceptable, and strategically sustainable; and to act in a manner that preserves credibility, rather than squandering it on incongruous gestures. A leader with discernment knows that power is not solely measured by the capacity to impose a measure, but also by the aptitude to foresee the resistance it will trigger.

The ephemeral tax of the self-proclaimed "guardian" was an example of imprudence: imposed as a fait accompli, without a recognised legal basis, without consulting the directly affected partners, and without a serious assessment of the Gulf States' reaction. The measure collapsed not out of generosity, but because the affected countries possessed the power to reverse it. The International Maritime Organisation confirmed there was no legal basis for this levy. The problem was not merely the decision; it was the public demonstration that a great power can announce a global measure and discover the following day that it lacks the conditions to sustain it. Consequently, it undermines trust in its word.

President Trump’s decision should not be read as an isolated episode or a personal eccentricity. It belongs to a broader pattern: that of great powers transforming interdependence into instruments of pressure. It is in Africa that this pattern is most clearly visible. All promise protection, investment, security, or development. All invoke the sovereignty of their partners. Yet, in far too many cases, the outcome is an asymmetrical relationship: African countries surrender resources, strategic positions, or decision-making leeway; great powers reap the advantages; and political promises remain contingent upon convenience.

In February 2025, the President of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) offered Washington access to the country's critical minerals in exchange for security guarantees. Partnership agreements between the two followed, signed in December of that year: the United States gained preferential access to Congolese mineral concessions and assumed the obligation to protect the sovereignty of the eastern DRC. On the American side, the pact did not translate into action. Washington limited itself to approving sanctions against Rwanda, which it accuses of sponsoring the rebels.

In Zimbabwe, the Chinese conglomerate Huayou Cobalt inaugurated the continent's first lithium sulphate plant in 2026. Zimbabwe banned the export of raw lithium to force local processing; it was China, not Zimbabwe, that built the processor – thereby capturing the enormous value of this project.

In Mali, Sudan, and the Central African Republic, the Russian Africa Corps protects military regimes in exchange for gold. These pacts are presented as exercises in sovereignty and protection of these States, but the result is akin to that observed in Kinshasa and Harare. Local partners pay with natural resources, dependence, and a loss of autonomy; great powers extract value; and the promised protection rarely equates to enduring security for the populations.

Europe must draw a clear warning from these examples. No great power is a full, automatic, and unconditional ally of Europe. Each acts according to its own interests:

• Washington seeks to preserve its geopolitical primacy.

• Beijing wishes to control value chains, markets, and critical technologies.

• Moscow aims to limit European autonomy and exploit its fundamental vulnerabilities.

Europe may cooperate with all powers when interests align. However, it must do so with the necessary political vision.

Thus, it is fundamental to abandon strategic naïvety. Strategic discernment demands that Europe maintain open channels, but reduce critical dependencies; cooperate when advantageous, but prepare alternatives; negotiate with seriousness, but without submission.

Washington may remain an indispensable partner in matters of security, but it must no longer be treated as the automatic guarantor of the European order. China may be a commercial and mutual investment partner, but it must equally be viewed as a systemic political competitor in industry, technology, and the control of raw materials. Russia may one day return to being an interlocutor, but as long as it employs coercion, threats, and military aggression as political methods, it must be viewed with suspicion.

European autonomy cannot be a mere rhetorical formula. The only alliances upon which Europe can rely in a stable manner are, first and foremost, those it manages to build within itself – on a foundation of genuine, not merely declarative, unity – and, subsequently, with blocs and economies of comparable weight.

It is not a matter of exchanging dependence on Washington for dependence on Beijing or Moscow. Nor is it about fostering unnecessary enmities with the great powers. It is about recognising that, in an order dispersed among rival poles, without a single authority capable of enforcing international rules, Europe must face the great powers as what they structurally already are: competing entities whose interests may align with European ones at certain moments and diverge profoundly at others.

For Europe, this means one cannot confuse diplomatic proximity with peace; markets with dependence; and protection with tutelage. If Europe fails to learn these distinctions, it risks finding itself in the same league as those illusorily sovereign States, where the essential decisions regarding their security, digital systems, energy, industry, and prosperity run the risk of being made outside their own capitals.

The NATO Summit and the defence of the European geopolitical space

 Europe 2030: Anticipating the Unthinkable and Guaranteeing Peace

Victor Ângelo 

International Security Advisor. 

Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 10 Jul 2026

The NATO Summit in Ankara has made it impossible to continue ignoring the possibility of a Russian aggression against the European space by the end of the decade. It has become a strategic hypothesis that demands preparation, deterrence, and political will. Europe faces a concrete threat and must build a genuine, coordinated, and maximally autonomous Defence capability. Ankara also confirmed a second self-evident truth: the support of the United States, whilst indispensable, can no longer be treated as an automatic guarantee.

European States must correct an error of judgement: interpreting Moscow as if the Kremlin calculated its actions according to a rational economic logic of costs and benefits. This is not the case. Its strategic vision is shaped by other forces: regime survival, historical resentment towards the West, an obsession with a lost sphere of influence, and the need to project strength to prevent any perception of weakness.

That is why the continuation and intensification of the Russian war against Ukraine increase the European risk. This crisis, triggered by the Kremlin, must end without further delay. As Kyiv demonstrates the capacity to strike critical infrastructure within Russia, the vulnerability of Vladimir Putin's power becomes more visible. These attacks erode an autocracy centred on a single face, whose authority depends on internal repression and the appearance of external invincibility. The greater danger is that the Kremlin, should it feel backed into a corner, might seek to regain the initiative through an escalation against NATO countries, pressuring the West to yield and attempting to force Ukraine into capitulation.

This threat would not be a massive territorial invasion in the image of the wars of the 20th century. The technological context has changed the nature of aggression and reduced the time available for decision-making. The risk may arise from surgical, localized operations of great political impact. Russia possesses missile systems, including hypersonics, capable of striking infrastructure in Western Europe in a matter of minutes. Under a logic of controlled escalation, a precision strike against a port, a power station, a communications hub, or a military base would not necessarily mean the onset of a total war. It could suffice to paralyse the Alliance's political decision-making. Every missile would also be a coercive message.

In parallel, the aggression could take the form of rapid operations in vulnerable points: Svalbard, in northern Norway, essential for monitoring the Arctic; Gotland, in Sweden, decisive for controlling the Baltic Sea; or the Suwałki Gap, between Poland and Lithuania, squeezed between Kaliningrad and Belarus. A lightning occupation, albeit limited in space and time, would have a clear objective: to sever access, create faits accomplis, and force NATO to choose between responding, negotiating, or hesitating.

The target would be allied cohesion. If Russia were to advance and NATO were to hesitate, Article 5 would not disappear from paper, but it would lose political substance. The Alliance would continue to exist; however, it would be left with diminished credibility. And an alliance that no longer intimidates the aggressor approaches the old Chinese image, taken up by Mao, of a paper tiger.

The transition to a sort of “NATO 3.0”, in which Europe will have to assume a much greater share of its own Defence, creates a period of critical vulnerability. The summit made it clear that Europe cannot organize its security on the assumption of a constant, predictable, and politically unconditional American presence.

Furthermore: any American insistence on territorial claims or control over Greenland – a topic once again stirred up by Donald Trump in Ankara – would introduce severe tension into the heart of the Alliance. Moscow would tend to interpret a transatlantic fracture of this nature as an opportunity to test NATO's solidity, exploit divisions, and accelerate its operations in the grey zone.

In my preceding article – “NATO and the trap of red lines”, of 3 July 2026 – I emphasized that one of the most dangerous responses would be to announce “red lines”. Linear thinking fails in the face of hybrid warfare and the manoeuvres that take place in the twilight of the grey zone. By proclaiming absolute ultimatums, the Alliance would risk being pushed into an escalation it does not desire or, worse still, exposing its hesitations. What is required is strategic ambiguity: genuine military capabilities, demonstrable readiness, and response options sufficiently unpredictable to render the adversary's calculations more difficult. Europe must invest in a coordinated manner in its Armed Forces and, simultaneously, preserve the language and practice of peace.

Recognizing that Russian aggression is a real possibility on the 2030 horizon is not alarmism. It is strategic prudence. European rearmament should not be presented as a march towards confrontation, but as a condition for avoiding it. When one's neighbour is a power that transforms history into imperial claims and force into a diplomatic argument, peace comes at a high price. But the price of unpreparedness would be incomparably higher. It is this that must be explained to citizens, without euphemisms or useless dramatizations.

Deterrence and defence do not substitute diplomacy; they lend it weight. A fragile Europe may suggest the opening of a dialogue, but it will hardly be heard. A strong, coherent, and autonomous Europe can propose to Moscow a credible, sustained negotiation, oriented towards stability. Dialogue with Russia will always be sterile if conducted from a position of dependence, division, or fear.

Preparing for the unthinkable does not mean desiring war. It means preventing others from considering it advantageous. To guarantee peace – and this remains the paramount objective –, Europe must be ready to respond to scenarios that until recently seemed inconceivable. Peace depends on the credibility of our resolve.