BIGGER ISN’T BETTER
The original NATO alliance served
three main functions. First and foremost was defense. The Soviet Union
had moved swiftly westward during World War II, swallowing independent
nations and entrenching itself as a major European power. NATO did not
reverse this trend but rather managed it by setting up a perimeter
beyond which the Soviet Union could not go. Second, NATO resolved the
endemic problem of Western European security and, in particular, the
problem of alternating French, German, and British antagonism.
Transforming France, Germany, and the United Kingdom from periodic
enemies into steadfast allies was a recipe for lasting peace. Finally,
NATO guaranteed U.S. engagement in European security, precisely what
World War I and its confusing aftermath had failed to do.
From 1949 to 1989, NATO fulfilled
all of these core functions. The Soviet Union never sent its tanks
through the Fulda Gap. Instead, it fashioned a Soviet version of NATO,
the Warsaw Pact, which was dedicated to countering American power in
Europe, to restraining Germany, and to solidifying a Soviet military
presence from East Berlin to Prague to Budapest. In Western Europe, NATO
kept the peace so effectively that this function of the alliance was
almost forgotten. War between France and Germany became inconceivable,
enabling the eventual creation of the European Union. Despite the
Vietnam War, despite Watergate, and despite the energy crisis of the
1970s, the United States never withdrew from Europe. Washington was no
less invested in European security in 1989 than it was in 1949. In other
words, the NATO alliance had worked brilliantly.
But then came a dramatic
period of redefinition. Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush based
their NATO policy on two assumptions. The first was that NATO was the
best vehicle for guaranteeing European peace and security. The spirit of
French-German reconciliation could be expanded together with NATO, so
the thinking went, reducing the risk that a nonaligned European state
would acquire nuclear weapons and go rogue. In a similar vein, NATO
expansion was seen as a hedge against Russia. German Chancellor Helmut
Kohl and many eastern European leaders sensed that the 1990s were
anomalous and that Moscow would return to form
sooner or later. When it did, an expanded NATO could be the bulwark
against Russia that the original alliance had been against the Soviet
Union.
The second assumption behind NATO
expansion followed from optimistic ideas about the international order.
Perhaps Russia was on the path to democracy, and a Russian democracy
would naturally enjoy cooperating with NATO. Perhaps Russia was not
becoming a democracy, but it would nevertheless be beholden to an
American-led order. In 2001, the U.S. State Department’s Office of
Policy Planning generated a paper titled “Why NATO Should Invite Russia
to Join.” This was not to be, but U.S. policymakers assumed that the
magnetic Western model would attract Russia to Europe as it would an
array of countries not yet in NATO: Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus,
Georgia, Moldova, and Ukraine. NATO and the Western political model
would walk forward hand in hand. Given how well NATO had worked so far,
more NATO would by definition equal more peace, more integration, more
order.
NATO is not the cause of instability in eastern Europe, but it cannot be separated from the region’s instability.
Both of the assumptions behind
NATO expansion turned out to be off the mark. A structure created for
midcentury Western Europe made little sense for post–Cold War eastern
Europe. The original NATO had been delimited—by the Iron Curtain, by
geography, and by politics. Outside NATO, Austria and Finland were not
up for grabs: they were formally neutral but made their allegiances
clear by quietly supporting the imperatives of Western security.
Moreover, the horrors of World War II had tamped down nationalism in
Western Europe, which has a history of strong nation-states. After 1945,
there were no outstanding questions about the borders among them. No
outside power, not the Soviet Union, not China, was willing to change
the borders of Western Europe. Thus could NATO excel at being, as it was
supposed to be, a defensive military alliance.
An expanded NATO operates
entirely differently in eastern Europe. There is in 2022 no equivalent
to the Iron Curtain, and in Europe’s east geography does not constrain
NATO expansion. Instead, the alliance is awkwardly and haphazardly
sprawled across eastern Europe. The Kaliningrad region is a small island
of Russia within a sea of NATO territory, which runs in a swerving line
from Estonia down to the Black Sea. Twenty-first-century NATO is
enmeshed in the tortuous question of where Russia’s western border ends
and Europe’s eastern border begins, a question that since the
seventeenth century has been the cause of countless wars, some of them
emanating from Russian imperialism and some from Western invasions. NATO
randomly crosses dozens of dividing lines in the ruthless playground of
empires, nation-states, and ethnicities that is eastern Europe. The
alliance is not the cause of regional instability, but as a nonneutral
presence and an object of Russian enmity, it cannot be separated from
this instability. Perhaps if all European countries (other than Russia)
were NATO members, the alliance could be an effective bulwark against
Moscow, but this is far from the case.
The unanticipated perils of
expanding NATO have been compounded by the open-door policy, which
renders the alliance’s eastern flank incomprehensible. NATO’s
declaration in 2008 that Ukraine and Georgia will someday become members
was at best aspirational and at worst insincere. Yet the potential for
the eastward movement of NATO’s border is very real, as recent talks
about the potential accession of Finland and Sweden have underscored.
Moreover, the Ukrainian government’s drive to enter NATO has embroiled
the alliance in the region’s most explosive ethnonationalist conflict,
even if advocates of NATO autonomy see Ukrainian membership as purely a
matter of respecting the alliance’s charter, which enshrines the
open-door policy, or of Kyiv’s God-given right to choose its allies. A
defensive alliance is unequipped to handle a conflict between a
nonmember seeking membership and a nuclear power hell-bent on denying
that membership. That is a conflict NATO can only lose and one that
might even threaten the existence of the alliance if a member state such
as Poland or Lithuania were pulled into the ongoing war between Russia
and Ukraine.
An additional risk to an
expanding NATO is the international order around it. Rather than wishing
to join the U.S.-led order in Europe, Russia seeks to build an
international order of its own and to contain American power.
Ironically, NATO expansion or the promise of it aids Putin in this effort.
It supports his narrative of Western betrayal and justifies Russian
interventionism to the Russian public. In Russia, NATO is perceived as
foreign and unfriendly. Its expansion is a pillar of Putin’s domestic political legitimacy. Russia needs a leader, so Putin’s logic runs, who can say no to an alliance constructed to say no to Moscow.
BACK TO DEFENSE
NATO must change course by
publicly and explicitly refusing to add any more member states. It
should by no means go back on its commitments to countries that have
already joined—U.S. credibility in Europe depends on honoring them—but
it must revisit the assumptions that undergirded NATO expansion in the
1990s. With the alliance already overextended in one of the world’s most
dangerous neighborhoods, incorporating Ukraine would be strategic
madness. The theater-of-the-absurd quality of the West’s attachment to
the open-door policy is itself insulting to Ukraine (and to Georgia) and
will over time generate ill will toward Washington. Even if everyone
knows that what they say is at odds with reality, Ukrainians and
Americans alike muddy the waters and invite distraction by not speaking
candidly.
The United States needs a new strategy for dealing with Russia
in eastern Europe, one that does not rely primarily on NATO. The
alliance is there to defend its members, and closing the open door would
help it do so. No doubt, ending expansion would require difficult
diplomacy. It would contradict the often-repeated promises of U.S. and
European officials and break with precedent. But an alliance that cannot
act in its own interest and that clings to disproven assumptions will
undermine itself from within. Survival demands reform, and finalizing
NATO’s membership would enable an approach attuned to the region’s
complexities, to an international order in which the Western model does
not reign supreme, and to the revisionism of Putin’s Russia, which is
not going away any time soon.
The United States and its
European allies and partners should at the same time propose a new
institution for deliberations with Russia, one that would focus on
crisis management, deconfliction, and strategic dialogue. NATO should
play no part in it. It is worth sending the message to Moscow, perhaps
for the leader who comes after Putin, that NATO is not the be all and
end all of European security. Most important, Washington should proceed
with caution. The status quo is precarious, and any inch that can be
gained from U.S.-European-Russian diplomacy is worth gaining. The odds
that such diplomacy will succeed are small, but to not give it a chance
would be an unforgivable error.
Instead of relying on NATO,
Washington should use economic statecraft in the coming conflicts with
Russia. Along with the European Union, the United States could employ a
combination of sanctions, measures to block the transfer of technology,
and efforts to isolate Russia from European and American markets to
pressure Russia on Ukraine and on other areas of disagreement. This is
hardly a novel idea, but Russia’s less-than-modern economy and relative
financial weakness make it a good target for such measures.
In the event of a new military
conflict with Russia, the United States should form an ad hoc coalition
with allies and partners to deal with possible threats instead of
directly involving NATO (unless Russia attacks a NATO member). Since
1991, NATO’s track record on non-NATO territory has been checkered,
featuring failed missions in Afghanistan and Libya. These out-of-area
misadventures prove that the alliance should be playing defense, not
offense.
Closing NATO’s open door will not
resolve Washington’s problems with Russia. These problems go far beyond
the alliance. But ending NATO expansion would be an act of self-defense
for the alliance itself, giving it the gifts that greater limitation
and greater clarity confer.