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If America is back, the EU must look forward

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Rock Cohen / NATO EUFOR ceremony 31-MARCH-2003 / Licensed under Creative Commons

The role of military force as a deterrent necessitates a forward-looking strategy that breaks free from the logic of legislating for the last crisis.

‘America is back’.

Joe Biden’s tweet on November 24th was meant to symbolise a return to the multilateral system - with the US in the driving seat - on issues ranging from climate change to defence cooperation. The sentiment was hammered home by his speech at the Munich Security Conference, touting the commitment of the US to the western alliance system. His most recent actions - notably signalling a willingness to enter negotiations with Iran brokered by the EU - support the idea of a normalisation of the transatlantic relationship, not least through a diplomatic charm offensive coinciding with the G7 summit.

However, despite the defeat of Trump, the transatlantic military relationship is beset by the legacy of four years of tense relations and is undermined by scepticism about the usefulness of NATO in the 21st century. Media narratives surrounding the willingness of the USA to go to war over the territorial integrity of far-flung countries like Latvia are symbolic of a loss of trust in the ability of NATO to deter military aggression. This is only amplified by long-standing demands for Europeans to shoulder the burden by spending 2% of GDP on defence and Macron’s comments about NATO’s ‘brain death’.

With a resurgent Russia and ascending China, navigating the current global order requires greater transatlantic cooperation - perhaps more than ever before. Yet, the west’s response to threats ranging from increasing Chinese assertiveness in the South China Sea to Russian aggression in Ukraine and disinformation campaigns throughout Europe risks being stunted by divisions stemming from a security architecture built for the Cold War.

An EU Army?

One way to strengthen European military capacity and potentially rekindle transatlantic cooperation is to create an EU army within NATO structures; a proposal spearheaded by (amongst others) the liberals in the European Parliament and echoed by the Commission’s calls for ‘Strategic Autonomy’.

On the one hand, it would be a way to ensure that the 162 billion euros spent by EU members on defence are invested in a more efficient way. Integrating R&D, procurement and command structures would augment operational capacity whilst lowering the cost per capita. Increased military effectiveness, in turn, enables greater engagement with the USA, lowering the tension surrounding the 2% target.

On the other hand, a European army would encourage the USA to come to the defence of all EU member states, no matter how small, much like other NATO members would come to the defence of an invasion of Alaska. The need for such concrete deterrence vis-à-vis Russia is augmented by the US ‘Pivot to Asia’, formulated by Barack Obama and continued by Biden. The focus on containing an increasingly aggressive China has relegated the European theatre from the US perspective as domestic political attention embraces the narrative of a second Cold War. Importantly, integrating European defence policy would enable greater power projection in contested Asian regions such as the Indo-Pacific.

Despite a broad consensus on the need for a more integrated European defence policy, notably in France and Germany, concrete progress remains a pipe dream held by European federalists in university classrooms. So far, the EU Common Security and Defence Policy (CSDP) has a narrow mandate with a focus on joint humanitarian, peace-keeping and rescue missions. Meanwhile, the activation of Permanent Structured Cooperation (PESCO) in 2017, intended to develop combat-ready European task forces, has been stunted by an inability of Member States to agree on operation parameters due to different risk-appetites and concerns over deployment cost.

So far this may all sound reasonable enough. But why hasn’t it happened until now? What makes cooperation on defence policy so difficult?

Institutional Inertia

One reason for piecemeal EU defence integration is the unanimity requirement for any decision-making in the European Council on related matters. By endowing each of the 27 Member States with an effective veto, policy formulation becomes bogged down in a ‘Joint Decision Trap’ as formulated by Fritz Scharpf. If each decision requires unanimous agreement, the set of outcomes everyone can agree to become small and often non-existent. The result is slow, fractured progress, with many of the benefits of defence integration being watered down by proposals for ‘two-speed’ integration.

Moving away from unanimity by instituting qualified majority voting, whereby at least 55% of Member States representing 66% of the EU’s population can make decisions on behalf of the EU, would be a way to overcome the gridlock. However, such a move would require treaty change which is itself subject to unanimity, enabling fears held by smaller member states about encroachments on national sovereignty to stall reform.

‘Never Waste a Crisis’

Yet despite being beset by institutional inertia, European integration has powered forward in other policy areas, notably monetary and fiscal. One explanation given by scholars highlights the role of crises in forcing decisive action.

An example is the Euro Area sovereign debt crisis, which led to the creation of the European Banking Authority. The role of banks and the European financial system in the Euro crisis necessitated a watchdog that monitored financial institutions on a European level to identify systemic risks before they become critical. The threat of Spanish default forced the German chancellor Merkel to agree to the establishment of such an institution despite long-standing opposition on the grounds of creating moral hazard.

Similarly, the coronavirus pandemic forced previously ‘hawkish’ northern EU Member States to u-turn and agree to the issuance of debt on an EU-level, a huge step towards the creation of a true fiscal union. Fears over a renewed sovereign debt crisis meant that the costs of inaction grew dramatically, shifting veto points and leading to consensus. The increased costs of inaction even led politicians to ignore hostile public opinion, as shown by Germany’s willingness to support Eurobonds despite 65% of the public being opposing the idea.

But is betting on a ‘Europe forged in crisis’, as prophesied by Jean Monnet, a feasible approach for defence integration?

A Defence Crisis

The kind of ‘reactive’ policy-making which may work in economic policy areas - where an already-integrated EU can tweak existing institutions to soothe markets - would not work to react to the type of crisis severe enough to shift veto positions on defence policy.

Firstly, because crises in the defence field are often existential - picture a military invasion of Latvia - waiting for such a crisis to shift positions in favour of an EU army would be ineffective. The role of military force as a deterrent necessitates a forward-looking strategy that breaks free from the logic of legislating for the last crisis.

Even if the nature of military confrontation has changed (as many argue), the type of hybrid warfare pursued by Russia does not shift veto positions sufficiently to inspire substantial reform. Incremental disinformation campaigns, political interference and false flag attacks wrapped up in plausible deniability make any decisive attribution of blame difficult. When compared to the furious reactions to Greek default during the Euro crisis, European responses to Russian activities in Ukraine or Estonia do not even register.

The nature of modern, hybrid military conflicts makes policymaking on the back of a sense of urgency difficult. The fact that the invasion of Ukraine, support of far-right parties throughout Europe and targeted disinformation campaigns seeking to undermine trust in democratic institutions has not led to substantial progress on defence integration speaks for itself.

Member States have an obligation to look beyond the political business cycle to kickstart the long process towards European military integration. A starting point could be developing an ERASMUS scheme for soldiers during training whilst lowering barriers to joint battle group deployment. The French-led operation ‘Barkhani’, aiming to support the government of Mali in fighting Islamist militants, is a promising first step. The time for pre-emptive policymaking is now - by the time the costs of inaction become high enough, it could already be too late.

The EU and the COVID-19 Pandemic: A Test of Legitimacy

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By Jack Cross

(From left to right: Ursula VON DER LEYEN, President of the European Commission; Charles MICHEL, President of the European Council. – 19/02/2021)

It’s safe to say that it has been a difficult few years for the EU. And while the process of an ‘ever closer union’ has never been a straightforward one, the European project has nevertheless endured. In recent months, however, the EU has had to grapple with the most serious challenge it has faced since its inception, the COVID-19 Pandemic.

Coronavirus is simultaneously the European Commission’s greatest test and opportunity to date, its appearance has offered the chance to demonstrate an ability to act as a federal executive for all 27 member states. The performance of the Commission has consequences both in its members national localities and internationally, as it will show to the rest of the world whether or not it is able to perform effectively as a single actor. Success here would help project the image that non-member states around the world should do business with the Commission, not individual member states.

Despite high hopes, the roll-out of COVID-19 vaccines across Europe has been fraught with difficulty. Many have directed blame towards the European Commission for problems with region-wide distribution efforts and the delays or halts to various national vaccination programs.

So, what exactly went wrong with the vaccine roll-out and how does this reflect on the European Commission? The EU’s approach mirrored that of most federal governments, which retained powers concerning vaccine contracts and distribution, while sub-federal bodies oversaw lockdowns and other restrictive measures. The EU wide scheme for vaccine purchase and distribution was optional, though all 27 member states chose to opt-in . This was a vote of confidence in the Commission’s plan.

The defining error in the Commission’s plan was the placing of an order for 300 million doses of the Astra-Zeneca vaccine in August 2020. Given the scale of the production required, this was a relatively delayed decision. By direct comparison, the UK government had placed an order for 100 million doses of the same vaccine in May. This late decision caused significant problems with the vaccine supply chain, with the EU and Astra-Zeneca being forced to reduce their targets for vaccinations in the first quarter of this year to 31 million a reduction of 60% on the original target. One consequence of the troubled vaccine procurement process was the decision by the Hungarian government to begin trialling the Russian Sputnik vaccine, a clear blow to the EU’s collective approach.

Now it is certainly true that the EU are not alone in having problems with the vaccine rollout, the Biden Administration in the United States has inherited a situation in which the US roll-out plan was non-existent. However, no one has questioned the viability of American federal governance, while the same cannot be said for the position of the European Commission. As long as there are doubters within and without the EU, the European Commission and Parliament has to constantly prove it is capable and offers reliable partnership, both for its member states and on the international stage. Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, admitted in a necessary act of contrition, that there had been failures in the Commission’s handling of the vaccine roll-out. It is crucial now that the Commission can lead the region out of the pandemic and the accompanying financial crisis, thereby reasserting its ability to present the union as a single actor. Already the Commission has proposed a recovery fund worth €750 billion and it will likely offer further assistance to member states as the focus turns towards the post-COVID landscape.

Pushing beyond the specific problems of the vaccine roll-out, the challenge of the current pandemic comes at a crucial time for the EU and the Commission. In the post-Brexit landscape, creating a renewed purpose and vision for the union has been central to the work of senior European politicians. Upon assuming the Presidency of the European Commission, Ursula Von der Leyen pledged to transform the body into a ‘geopolitical commission’ with a new sub-commission group to work on ‘external coordination’. This is no small ambition, and will likely become a key part of the Commission’s role in the coming years.

Though, a problem remains, in that no one is yet to work out exactly what that role would be. The European Commission has laid out an impressive array of policies concerning the climate crisis, an area in which the EU could become a global leader. But the Commission will be reliant on the co-operation of the EU’s national governments in order to achieve its climate goals. Only time will tell if the fallout from the vaccine roll-out has shaken the faith of member states in the viability of the European Commission as a single actor for the whole region.

While it is yet to be seen if Brexit will trigger a domino effect of EU secessionism, the union still faces huge challenges going forward, particularly in projecting itself as a single actor on the world stage. This is not to say that the vaccine roll-out has dashed any hope of the EU being treated as a legitimate single actor, simply that doubts in its ability to do so have grown. Unlike most nation states, regional organisations and supranational bodies must constantly reaffirm their legitimacy through demonstrable utility. The glitches in the vaccine roll-out have been a setback but one that the European Commission will be able to overcome, repairing the damage to its reputation through leading the region in its post-pandemic recovery.

 

Jack Cross is currently pursuing a masters in the History of War in the War Studies Department at King’s College London. His main research interests are diplomatic history, the role of great and middle powers within current international politics, as well as the politics of the Balkans and Middle East.

EU Migration Mismanagement: Canary Islands the new Lesbos?

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by Cristina Romero-Caballero Cuttell

Hundreds of migrants crammed in unseaworthy boats.
Source: Council of Europe

Migrants embarking in unseaworthy boats from Northern and Western African shores or making arduous overland journeys on foot from Middle Eastern countries, such as Syria or Afghanistan, to reach Europe demonstrate the harsh reality of irregular migration. These movements are normally prompted by the perilous circumstances such as wars, ethnical violence or scarcity of essential resources affecting their home countries.

In addition to their tough past and uncertain future, many migrants find themselves alone and vulnerable in foreign lands, often enduring dangerous, inhumane, and degrading circumstances caused by governmental policies where they arrive. For its part, the EU continues to turn a blind eye to the humanitarian issues underlying such migratory movements, focusing mainly on the associated security and logistical matters. This failure to give help where it is most needed is causing extreme suffering at its borders, proving the lack of empathy and solidarity of EU migration laws and regulations towards the arrivals.

The EU aims to show on occasions, the apparent importance it places on safeguarding migrants, leading the European population to believe its actions are sufficient. Germany´s decision in 2019 to take in vulnerable refugees through the European Resettlement Programme, and the provision of EU aid to Turkey to support refugees escaping from Syria, are just some examples. Both overtures initially appear altruistic; yet closer examination reveals they are, by all accounts, insufficient. In March 2020, when the unsustainable situation in Turkey led it to threaten to allow migrants to cross the border into Greece, the EU acted swiftly by providing aid to Greece to seal its Turkish borders. This response was not born from a spirit of goodwill and solidarity; as expected, the EU was simply trying to secure its borders to prevent a reignition of the 2015 crisis. Likewise, the response from other powerful European actors, such as the UK and France, to the plight of migrants has been begrudging at best, and shameful at worst, as exemplified by the recent drownings in the English Channel.

Such a lacklustre response is a deeply controversial issue as the EU aims to protect the interests of all Europeans by ensuring their safety and economic growth; but it fails to do enough for the displaced, asylum-seekers, refugees and migrants. The EU is, in effect, preventing genuine refugees from seeking asylum through laws that disregard outsiders by complicating and slowing down such processes, as dictated, for instance, by the Dublin Regulation. Such law, only permits refugees to seek asylum in the country where they arrive, leaving many without protection since the receiving countries, such as Greece, Italy, Malta or Spain, are overwhelmed. Furthermore, through such laws, refugees are being denied their right to freely choose where to live. Denying such protection and freedom is in breach of the human rights upheld by international law through the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the 1951 UN Refugee Convention, and the 1990 Migrant Workers Convention. This insular and nationalistic approach is dehumanising the lives of those escaping from wars, genocides, terrorist regimes, and the effects of climate change in order to find a place where they can live, instead of remaining in one where they are simply trying to survive.

To confront African migration, the EU is seeking to establish Migration Agreements with third countries in Northern Africa, the ultimate territorial border before the Mediterranean and, hence, European waters. The strong relationship established with Morocco attests to this. Since the 1990s, a series of bilateral re-admission agreements have been signed between Morocco and Spain to cooperate in the control of irregular migration. This cooperation was later complemented by FRONTEX, the EU External Border Agency. In 2013, a new tool was put forward to North African countries as part of the EU Global Approach to Migration. This ‘Mobility Partnerships Facility’, a “long-term framework based on political dialogue and operational cooperation” for collaboration on migration, was accepted by Morocco and Tunisia. Although certain aspects have not yet been finalised, including the controversial readmission issue of third-country nationals (TCN), its implications are visible: higher securitization, and stricter border controls.

West African Maritime Route.
Source: International Organization for Migration

What sounds like a great step forward in helping Morocco to manage the large influx of migrants is, in reality, just shifting part of the migratory issue from the north of Morocco to the south and west, and to southern Sub-Saharan countries such as Senegal, Gambia, and Mauritania, where less control exists. Thus, migrants seeking a better life in Europe now view the more dangerous West African Maritime route, crossing to Spain’s Canary Islands from Africa’s Western Coast, as their only viable option. This is a route that has witnessed over five hundred deaths in 2020, a figure which is likely much higher as not all shipwrecks are reported. Despite the patrols between the archipelago and the African coast, the abundancy of boats has overwhelmed the islands’ rescue and humanitarian services.

As a result, the Canary Islands are currently suffering a humanitarian emergency and Europe is once again ignoring another migratory issue affecting its southern border. Migrant arrivals in Spain’s Canary Islands are at their highest level in over a decade. Although the number of migrants arriving in Spain via the Mediterranean Sea has decreased by fifty per cent versus 2019, arrivals in the Canaries have increased by more than a thousand per cent. These are shocking numbers, but they fail to reflect the reality of the harsh journey as one in every sixteen migrants who embarks upon this gruelling journey dies along the way. For example, on 24 October 2020, a boat caught fire off the coast of Senegal and almost all of its 140 occupants drowned.

Problems do not end upon reaching land as Canary Island authorities lack the capacity to manage the enormous influx of migrants. Gran Canaria is the island feeling the heaviest toll, with its reception centres full and over two-thousand people at a time forced to camp on the dockside in the port of Arguineguin. Concurrently, this humanitarian crisis is impeding the maintenance of coronavirus prevention measures, putting at risk the lives of migrants and those involved in their rescue and care. Moreover, due to tedious bureaucratic and legal procedures, further hampered by COVID-19, these migrants are facing another deadlock as the Spanish government has hindered their transfer to other Spanish regions to prevent the establishment of a new migratory route into Europe. This, together with the closure of African countries’ borders due to the pandemic, is effectively converting the islands into an open-air prison for the 18,000 freedom-seekers currently being held on them, mirroring the appalling situation on the Greek island of Lesbos.

The Spanish Government and the EU both believe that protection should only be provided to those who have the right to it and those who comply with the Dublin Regulation. A study on arrivals in the Canary Islands completed by the UN Refugee Agency in 2020 revealed that over sixty-two per cent were escaping from generalised, gender-based, ethnic, religious or political violence, hence having the right to seek asylum; therefore, Spain and the EU are duty-bound to come to their aid. Nevertheless, there are also, the so-called economic migrants, escaping from the hardship exacerbated by COVID-19 in their home countries. This group is not entitled to international protection and such migrants are liable for deportation to their countries of origin.

To some extent, the caution shown by the Spanish authorities and the EU when handling the irregular arrivals is understandable. Whilst some are genuine refugees, striving to reach a destination where their life is not in danger, this does not assuage the fears of the Spanish government and the EU that some may be members of criminal groups, thereby endangering the security of Europe. For this reason, two measures are required: procedures that ensure protection is provided to all those entitled to it under international law; and, in parallel, the creation of safe deportation routes. Without these improvements to guarantee a dignified response, Gran Canaria risks suffering a similar humanitarian catastrophe to the one befalling Lesbos.

Although logistical processes have commenced, with migrants finally being transferred to tourist complexes unoccupied due to COVID-19, and receiving more dignified shelter, the problem remains unresolved as very few migrants are being transferred to other parts of Spain or Europe, or extradited, due to European and Spanish bureaucracy and the pandemic. Unsurprisingly, some experts suggest that a “Call Effect” has been created, as migrants encourage others to make the dangerous journey, putting further strain on the Spanish system, and placing more lives at risk. Consequently, collaboration between the EU, Spain, and African countries to address the underlying factors spurring migration in the countries of origin is the only way forward. It will not be easy, but the push factors driving migrants from Northern Africa to make the perilous voyage to Europe must be addressed to enable a more long-term solution than the piecemeal efforts undertaken to date. Until such a time, the EU’s moral duty must be to offer help and support to all of those who reach its shores.

Cristina Romero-Caballero Cuttell is a part-time MA International Relations student in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London. Her research interests are around the topics of Migration, especially African migration into Europe, Gender and Human Rights. She is currently a Spanish Red Cross volunteer in the Canary Islands helping with the management of the latest influx of migrants to the islands.

Cristina is a part of the Strife Women in Writing Programme.

Feature - Et Tu Cod? Reliving Fishy Fantasies

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by William Reynolds

 

“Everybody would just love to see one of them sunk…that’s what we’re here for! Sink the bloody things!”

– Royal Navy crewman interviewed on HMS Bacchante (1975)

“Gunboats? Threatening the civilian citizens of NATO ally over fish? Have you lost your fucking minds?”

–Victoria Freeman, Twitter (2020)

Introduction

Although separated by 45 years and vast differences of opinion, the two statements above accurately reflect what can only be described as a clash of competing fantasies currently taking place on social media. A recent article in The Guardian highlighting the readied usage of four Royal Navy vessels to patrol British waters in the case of a No Deal between the European Union (EU) and United Kingdom (UK), and its comparison to the Cod Wars, has proliferated commentary on the case of fish and how best to manage them.

Immediately after The Guardian’s publication, a number of well-respected academics and practitioners waded into the debate. Sir Lawrence Freedman, also alluding to the comparison made, reminded us that Britain ‘lost’ all three of the Anglo-Icelandic fishery disputes, coined the Cod Wars (1958-61, 1972-73 and 1975-76). Elisabeth Braw couched the news in deterrence terms, referring to it sounding “like a parody”. By contrast, the various jingoistic calls for force through attacking retweets of MP and Chair of the Defence Select Committee Tobias Ellwood’s exasperation very much mirrored Brexit MEP Robert Rowland, who in 2019 called for any foreign fishing vessel in British waters be “given the same treatment as the Belgrano!”

In reality, and perhaps a consequence of the lack of nuance on social media, both ‘sides’ support arguments that can only be described as simplistic in the extreme. First, and foremost, the Cod Wars are not an appropriate comparison for the current situation around UK waters, and The Guardian article has much blame to shoulder for alluding to the connection. Whilst the operational, day-to-day activities that took place during the successive ‘wars’ may offer some insights into the UK-EU tensions, strategically both cases are in very different places. Secondly, the narrative regarding the ship deployments itself is false. Rather than being seen as deployment in response to the tensions, the Fishery Protection Squadron should instead be seen for what it really is, an expansion of already conducted duties by default.

The Cod Wars - A ‘storm in a teacup’

As seen from the commentary on social media, the Cod Wars have clearly captured the imagination of the British public in lieu of raising tensions vis-à-vis fishing around the UK and a Brexit Deal. It is somewhat fitting that the term ‘Cod Wars’ was in fact coined by Fleet Street in September 1958. As yet again, it is the British media who is raising its ghost for today’s issue. However, the comparison is deeply flawed. If one had to identify the core elements of the three Cod Wars, themselves individually distinct in character, it would be the asymmetry of commitment between Iceland and Britain and the political environment, both international and domestic, that these conflicts occupied.

Asymmetry of commitment played a huge role in the dynamics and eventual outcomes of the three Cod Wars. The already struggling British trawling industries of the mid-1950s, and by extension the communities in Hull and Grimsby, were heavily reliant on the fisheries within fifty nautical miles of Iceland, with such an extension reported in 1971 by the Under-Secretary to the FCO Anthony Royle as likely to lead to a decrease in catches by forty to sixty per cent. Whilst the First Cod War’s (1958-61) extension to twelve nautical miles from four was worrying, it was the Second War (1972-3), and the fifty mile extension, which really started to hurt the industry. By the Third Cod War (1975-76) it was understood that a 200 nautical mile limit, which was the planned final extension by Iceland, would kill the industry altogether.

HMS Mermaid ‘Riding Off’ ICGV Baldur during the Third Cod War (Image Credit: Caledonian Maritime Research Trust)

However, the British fishing community as a whole only contributed to around one per cent of the entire British economy during the period of the Cod Wars. By 1956 the trawling industry was no longer profitable to the British state, Britain did not fear damage to the British economy as a whole, rather localised mass unemployment, which was still a fair concern. Thus, preventing the communities from automatically going on social welfare benefits (the Dole) by default was the key objective of the British state. In contrast, the fishing industry was viewed as a real existential issue for the Icelanders. Around 89% of Iceland’s export involved the industry, and there were very real fears that overfishing would see this collapse. Nor was this fear unfounded, when herring suddenly disappeared from Icelandic waters in the mid-60s, it led to a drop in real per capita income by sixteen per cent. It was with no embellishment that a Panorama team based in Iceland (1972) stated: “Icelanders are haunted by the fear that one day the fish will no longer be there.”

This asymmetry of commitment permeated all the actions taken by both states, particularly in domestic politics. In essence, whilst the British government was more beholden to its fishing communities, rather than the wider public, the Icelandic government’s legitimacy in the eyes of the entire public was founded on extending its limits and holding them.

The Icelandic population, around 200,000 in 1956 (and smaller than the 300,000 of Hull) supported five viable political parties and five newspapers. Thus, when the Cod Wars ignited, this politically engaged population was like the fuel for a lighted match. Quite quickly, nationalist rhetoric portrayed Iceland as the plucky ex-colony fighting the colonialist power, with each of the conflicts later compared to the Battle of Britain in terms of their cultural significance vis-à-vis a ‘national struggle’. This nationalist sentiment quickly spiralled out of control for Iceland’s Politicians. In 1958, when the British side reached a compromise in Paris, the Icelandic Foreign Minister stated [N]o Icelander will even consider a further discussion about settlement…”. This led the Icelandic representative at Paris to grumble that “everyone in Reykjavik has gone stark staring mad.” Indeed, such domestic pressures would be prevalent throughout each conflict. In 1975 Prime Minister Hallgrimsson felt compelled to deploy the Coast Guard due to domestic ire, despite favouring a negotiated settlement.

Heath and the stubborn cod, from Stuttgater Zeitung, reprinted in Þjóðviljinn newspaper, 30 May 1973 (Image Credit: Herring and Class Struggle)

By contrast, while the British government was often compelled by the British trawling community to deploy ships, the government ultimately held on to control. This was highlighted by the three successive de-escalatory measures, one for each conflict, which, in essence, capitulated to the Icelanders. As the conflicts escalated, successive British governments ultimately decided the fight was not worth the cost, both politically and economically. After all, the wider British public was rather apathetic to each conflict, and economically, that 1%, was a drop in the water. Perhaps the best example of the British government’s ultimate control, despite domestic pressure, was that Tony Crossland, the Foreign Secretary who hashed out the final Cod War agreement, was the MP for Grimsby!

Send in the gunboats! False comparisons invoked by Brexit

Therefore, the driving forces behind the three Cod Wars hold little water when it comes to comparisons with the fishing disputes between Britain and the EU. Without even touching upon the wider political factors such as the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) and the Cold War, it is clear that Britain and Iceland were playing with cards, and for a prize, of considerable difference to Britain and the EU in the modern day. Basically, the actors, the geography, the time and space, are all different today.

Chiefly, Britain is now interacting with waters that, even as a member of the EU, are legally its responsibility. Concepts of 12, 24 and 200 nautical miles, as enshrined under the United Nations Convention for the Law Of the Sea (UNCLOS), were still under intellectual development during the three Cod Wars. Today, they are foundational. This change automatically places the UK on a more even footing when it comes to levels of commitment present in order to achieve a favourable UK outcome. Whereas the conflicts with Iceland were ultimately some 1,600km away from London, these waters are figuratively, and legally, Britain’s ‘back yard’. As a result, Boris Johnson’s government has to consider a playing field, with its advantages and disadvantages, which are radically different to his predecessors of Harold Macmillan’s, Harold Wilson’s, Ted Heath’s and Jim Callaghan’s, former PMs at the time of the Cod Wars. One could even suggest the British playing field looks far closer to what Iceland would have seen back in the day. This is not to say the various European states do not have equal concerns, after all, the waters are equally important to them. But in this case, the Britain-Iceland asymmetry in concerns and distance is no longer present, making the comparison poor.

Secondly, whereas the Cod Wars required a ‘deployment’ of naval vessels to far waters, what follows after 1 January 2021 if no deal occurs would, in fact, be an extension by de facto. River class naval vessels who, alongside their forbearers, have been doing Fishery Protection since 1586, and includes medical and technical support for fishermen, search and rescue and liaison with other constabulary forces. Fundamentally, the four River-1 class patrol vessels are doing the exact same job as the Japanese Coast Guard, French Maritime Gendarme and Icelandic Coast Guard, with similar vessels in terms of weaponry and tonnage to boot! British vessels may be naval, but that is a quirk of history rather than a conscious decision.

Collection of similar Patrol Vessels, from left clockwise: HMS Tyne, FS Champlain, ICGV Thor and the JCG Yonakuni (Image Credits: Seaforces.org, NavyRecognition.com, Baird Maritime and J-Hangar.com)

Thus, it is wrong to say that these vessels are being deployed, when in actuality they are already present. Rather, if the waters revert to purely UK jurisdiction after the end of January 2021, their existing commitments will simply expand by de facto. This is not an aggressive deployment of gunboats, ready to ride off French Gendarme and ‘torpedo’ French fishing vessels, it is an expansion of commitment in line with Britain’s responsibility to conduct effective Maritime Governance, including not just Law and Order, but combatting pollution and search & rescue operations. For the UK to not do this would be an abdication of its responsibilities under UNCLOS.

Conclusion

Whilst there are many more factors and arguments that could be drawn upon to highlight the false mindset of comparing the current disputes with the Cod War, it is clear that the core elements of the three Cod Wars, asymmetry of commitment and political environment, are rather different to that of today.

Moreover, not only are the elements different, but the more tangible structural causes are equally different in flavour. This is not a deployment to waters over 1600km away, nor is the UK legally in a more nebulous environment. Furthermore, no deployments are necessitated, as the Fishery Protection Squadron has been in place in these waters since at least the 16th century.

This may all seem pedantic, but as highlighted by the Icelanders, rhetoric matters. If framing it in terms of the Cod Wars, we risk not only underestimating Britain’s natural position but additionally polarising the British population further, as both more nationalist ‘Brexiteer’ sentiments and false fantasies from the opposing, predominantly ‘Remainer’ sider entrench further and clash in increasingly heated discussions. If one lesson can be learned from all this, it is perhaps a more nuanced understanding of the historical case studies that are being used. Just as Brexit is not a rehash of the Second World War, the fishing dispute is not a repeat of the Cod one.

William Reynolds is a Leverhulme Scholar Doctoral Candidate with the Centre of Grand Strategy and Laughton Unit in the War Studies Department, Kings College London. Graduating with a Bachelor’s in War Studies, and Master’s in National Security Studies from the same department, William’s interests have evolved from military history to maritime security and grand strategy, particularly regarding Britain and the Indo-Pacific area. William’s research focuses on British and Japanese interactions in the grand strategic space post-1945. Over the years, William has conducted work with the King’s Japan Programme regarding maritime security in the Indo-Pacific region, with a particular focus on the maritime arena as a domain for interstate interactions. This has included United States Navy carrier and amphibious group deployments, Royal Navy deployments in the region from 1998 and, more recently, Chinese and Japanese Coast Guard procurement, history and interactions in the East China Sea. Outside of University, he has worked as a research analyst for an IED threat mitigation company, with a focus on Europe and Syria. You can follow him on Twitter @war_student.

Nationalism in Foreign Policy: Anachronism or Necessity?

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by Alexandru Nica

Hungary’s Orbán and the EU, a troubled relationship (Image Credit: Wikimedia)

Let us take the following statement by way of introduction. ‘A nation […] is a group of persons united by a common error about their ancestry and a common dislike of their neighbors’. In this article, I will demonstrate how this statement is false, since nations and nationalism are, after all, expressions of identity. As such, nationalism will continue to shape foreign policy as long as nations continue to be the main actors on the international stage. Before discussing about nations, nationalism or foreign policy as their bond, however, one ought to first define these concepts.

Nationalism, nation, what is the difference?

The concept of nationalism has at its core the idea of a nation. This large group of people lives on a common territory and has a common cultural inheritance, a history, a language, a shared religion, and ultimately, interests. It can thus be argued that the concept of a ‘nation’ also develops a feeling of moral affectivity and solidarity among its members. It is not so much about political institutions, structures, or ideologies but rather more about cultural ties and ethnic legacies.

In a nutshell, nationalism can be defined as a current of thought or a doctrine which puts nations and their interests above any other individual or collective interest. In this sense, nationalism implies that nations should be entitled to govern themselves and their territory independently, without any foreign or other external interference. At the same time, nations should be the only legitimate foundation of states. In so doing, states should reflect the national identities and national unity.

However, some historians “have attributed to nationalism a variety of harmful consequences, ranging from absurd social and cultural policies to totalitarian terror and global destabilization”. This fact has often led to misinterpretations when the matter was politicised. Because of some political or diplomatic contexts or to support some extreme ideologies, nationalism can sometimes take exacerbated forms. Xenophobia or chauvinism are but two examples. Nonetheless, in order to understand nationalism’s true nature and purposes, a clear difference must be made between nationalism and these derived concepts.

According to the same Anthony Smith, some definitions consider nationalism to be an artificial doctrine, with almost nothing to do with the organic concept of a ‘nation’. However, there are also perspectives connecting nationalism with a national state of mind, reflected in feelings of national identity and belonging. Therefore, it is not only about people’s desiderata to have their own states and to be masters of their own destiny but also about the sense of belonging, of connection, of ancestry and continuity. It is an indispensable element of one’s core identity, because it implies integrating oneself in your past, present, and future. An existential perpetuity, if you will.

One might be tempted to think that nationalism, as it is perceived today, belongs to modernity. Indeed, nationalism appeared in the German space, as a reaction to the French Revolution of 1789. As such, it might indeed be considered ‘modern’, chronologically speaking. However, the fundamental element that nationalism operates with is the ‘nation’, an organic entity rooted in the pre-modern era (with the 100 Years War or the Spanish Reconquista as examples). In so doing, we can consider that nationalism precedes modernity, semantically speaking. Nonetheless, this argument can be developed separately, as the debate is too wide and complex to be covered here. For now, let us return to foreign policy.

Nationalism in foreign policy

It can be affirmed that foreign policy belongs to modernity, even if certain elements of diplomatic interaction can be identified even back to the era of Ancient Greece or the Roman Empire. At present, upon analysing the contemporary international environment, it can also be stated that nationalism has an important role in shaping world politics and no doubt that foreign policy reflects national interests of many states, even if the world is facing an ever-increasing process of globalisation.

For many states, the role of nationalism in the construction of their foreign policy has to do with a certain need for legitimising foreign affairs. As an analogy, this need for legitimacy can be traced back to the Roman Empire (which had an active and intense propaganda meant to express the civilising role of Rome and the relations with the ‘barbarians’). Historiography, which arose back then, is nowadays still an important factor of legitimacy, especially for countries with expanding tendencies.

When it comes to how national interest can be reflected into foreign policy, Russia is another great example. Even if the U.S.S.R. collapsed in 1991, Russia’s great power aspirations never ceased to be. For this reason, after a decade of internal difficulties and a faulty foreign policy (under Primakov’s policy), Russia adopted a new realism under Putin. This strategy was influenced by the national interests of the state and we can clearly notice a reflection of nationalism in Russia’s foreign policy even more now, in the last decade.

Although Putin’s Russia is not isolationist, his foreign policy made one fact clear: Russia wants to join the Western community. It wants to be integrated among the other great powers, but on its own terms. Simultaneously, it can be observed how Russia is slowly re-emerging as an important power on the international stage, by fully using its resource-rich advantages to pursue its national interests in its relation to the EU.

Speaking about the EU, one can argue that the Old Continent has over the last few years been confronted with a rise of nationalism, a development which is also reflected in foreign policy. This situation was possible also due to the perception that EU members are beginning to face a two-speed Union, where sometimes double standards are applied. Accordingly, Central European countries (the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Poland, and Hungary) were not satisfied with their position, as the power of each one’s voice wasn’t able to make their national interests heard towards the Western part of the Union. To put it frankly, this is how the “Visegrad Group” took shape.

These countries still accept the EU status-quo and common Aquis. However, in some cases, they take actions according to their own interest, even when this comes in contradiction with Brussels’ policy. Hungary, for instance, went even farther, adopting a sort of dualist foreign policy towards the EU and Russia. Orban’s rhetoric has been focused on opposing globalisation, migration, sexual ideologies, contesting decisions of the European Union, accusing foreign corporations of spoliation, calling for a return to Christian and national values, and so on.

In so doing, Orban presented “illiberal democracy” as a better solution, thereby rendering the term “illiberal” in a positive light – a necessary alternative to liberal internationalism and to an emerging “liberal empire” which is the EU. Moreover, as a constant critic of the EU, Orban rallied behind Polish premier Morawiecki and his similar political program.

In this context, one can argue that the Hungarian premier has come with an approach that functions as a ‘defensive shield’ in front of an outer peril which can dilute the Hungarian essence. The reason why his solution was embraced by a majority of Hungarians might be that it resonates with their inner psychological reaction to what they perceive as threatening for their core identity.

In the end, it’s all about identity

Today, when humanity finds itself in an era of digitalisation and globalisation, it might seem at a first glance that national identities are obsolete and anachronistic. However, national identity is one of the main components of psychological identity, broadly defined. In the case of large groups – nations, countries, this aspect is likely to be reflected in relation to other large groups.

By summarising the post-Cold War international context, Samuel Huntington offers an interesting approach on the need for identity. According to him, people are different mainly because they share different cultures. When facing existential questions, they try to find an answer by looking at their core identity, which is undoubtedly and inevitably shaped by their culture and community. By their traits and groups. People know who they are only when they find out who they are not.

Therefore, dimensionally, the group is going all the way up to the nation, starting from family, friends, and the surrounding environment. Nations determine people to adjust not only their self-confidence, but also their principles and values, by sticking to some of them and rejecting others. A human being needs to identify with something and to belong somewhere, as a “zoon politikon” – social animal – and “zoon logikon” – logical animal, as Aristotle stated in his Politics.

Apart from money or power, the need for identity can lead one to fight wars that are not his, on distant continents, thousands of miles away, as large-group affiliation is a very strong element in determining one’s identity. In other words, religion, ethnicity, national identity, culture, they all are at the core of the individual’s psyche.

Trying to survive and belong comes out of an inferiority complex. Trying to subdue and belong comes out of a superiority complex. Still, both are about identity. To quote Huntington: ‘People are discovering new but often old identities and marching under new but often old flags which lead to wars with new but often old enemies’. After all, people are both rational and emotional beings. And for such beings, the need for identity is permanent. That’s why nationalism – as an expression of national identity – is undoubtedly present in both foreign and internal policy and it seems it will probably remain like this as long as states will be the main actors on the international stage.

Alexandru is currently pursuing an MA in Political Psychology at Bournemouth University. He holds a BA in History and is interested in how politics, media, psychology, and technology are interconnected and shape our fast-paced contemporary society.