Europe's space wars
The Economist Print Edition
Europe should not let Russia's threats deter it from deploying a defence against rogue states with rockets
SINCE the end of the cold war, few of the people of Europe, east or west, have worried much about missiles. In 1987 Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev signed a treaty eliminating the medium-range nuclear-tipped ones, such as the Pershings and SS-20s, that had convulsed Europe's politics for much of the 1980s. The angry British women who had set up “peace camps” outside the missile base at Greenham Common eventually rolled up their sleeping bags and went home.
This week the missile wars returned—on two fronts. General Nikolai Solovtsov, commander of Russia's strategic forces, warned Poland and the Czech Republic that if they went ahead with plans to allow the rockets and radars of an American anti-missile system to be installed on their territory, Russian forces would be “capable of having these installations as their targets”. Condoleezza Rice, America's secretary of state, called that “an extremely unfortunate comment”. The Czech foreign minister accused Russia bluntly of “blackmail”.
Where has this sudden squall blown in from? As Russia's president, Vladimir Putin, surely knows, the anti-missile radar the Czechs are receiving, and the battery of anti-missile missiles that may end up in Poland, are not aimed at Russia. They are parts of a defensive shield that NATO has concluded could help defend both America and its European allies from a different threat altogether: the growing danger of long-range missiles, potentially even nuclear-armed ones, from countries such as Iran and North Korea. And the anti-missile missiles may not even in the end be based in Poland.
The Economist has learned that Britain has also made a bid to become the European base for them (see article). This, however, highlights the second front—the battle for domestic public opinion. With the row over the Iraq war still reverberating, this offer will come as a red rag to Britain's vocal anti-everything-Bush-stands-for lobby. Just the sort of poodlish behaviour from Tony Blair's government that we have come to expect, many will fume. Why make Britain more of a target?
For Britain's Labour government, this is already round two of the missile-defence debate. At America's request, it agreed in 2003 to upgrade an early-warning radar system at Fylingdales; that radar is already a working component of America's still developing anti-missile plans. If the Fylingdales decision was controversial, offering to host the interceptors that might shoot down missiles bound for America or Europe as they travel through space is sure to be more so. Yet, as it did last time, the Blair government should welcome a robust debate.
A false alarm
During the cold war, when the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction helped to keep the peace, a case could be made that building defences against incoming missiles would be destabilising. So it was not just the usual anti-American crowd that was alarmed when George Bush insisted, soon after becoming president—and eventually Russia accepted—that their long-standing Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) treaty be scrapped. By preventing either side from building an effective anti-missile shield, the rules meant neither side had been tempted to strike the other in the belief that it was safe from a counter-attack. Surely scrapping such limits on defences was a mistake? Wasn't Mr Bush planning to bolster America's security at everyone else's expense? And won't extending his anti-missile shield a bit farther over Europe enrage the Russians anew and just end up making everyone less secure?
In fact, scrapping the ABM treaty, far from worsening America-Russia rivalry, left the Russians free to look more realistically to their own defences. And instead of the new arms race that was predicted, America and Russia, no longer enemies, quickly agreed to far deeper cuts in the numbers of strategic warheads they had pointing at each other than either had previously imagined possible.
Mr Putin may not like the Czechs and Poles—former vassals of the old Soviet Union that are now NATO members—volunteering for new missile-defence duty. But putting ten interceptors in Poland, or Britain, or anywhere else in Europe for that matter, will do nothing to blunt Russia's vast nuclear deterrent. America should do more to reassure Mr Putin of that. Indeed, it would reduce tension if the Americans responded to Russia's request to negotiate further arms-control treaties. But the only real damage to Russia from this episode will be self-inflicted: Mr Putin and his generals have reminded the Czechs and the Poles, and others queueing outside the door, why they wanted to join NATO in the first place.
And a real threat
Other governments have come to accept that their security is genuinely at risk from those more limited, but less predictable, threats. Japan and Australia have been co-operating with America to help fend off the danger from North Korea's missiles. Iran's tests of increasingly far-flying rockets, and its repeated refusal to heed UN Security Council deadlines (another passed this week) to end nuclear work that could be abused for bomb-making, have convinced even NATO's sceptics that limited defences can bolster security in Europe too.
Yet it is worth keeping in mind just how limited a role such limited defences can play. Even if the missiles America is still testing can be made to work properly, technology is seldom flawless. At best, therefore, the extra defences can offer a little bit of extra insurance in a crisis, by helping to persuade an aggressor that an attack, or a threatened one in an attempt at nuclear blackmail, might well fail and invite retribution instead.
Might. So the best way of avoiding getting to crisis-point is still to uphold and strengthen the rules against nuclear proliferation. Only far more robust diplomacy than has been tried so far seems likely to discourage Iran from pressing ahead with its nuclear ambitions. And there Russia is key. Mr Putin worked hard to ensure that the first sanctions resolution on Iran, passed in December, was as feeble as he could make it. What folly. A nuclear-armed Iran would bring instability to Russia's borders in a way neither NATO nor the modest American missile defences in Europe ever will.
Europe should not let Russia's threats deter it from deploying a defence against rogue states with rockets
SINCE the end of the cold war, few of the people of Europe, east or west, have worried much about missiles. In 1987 Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev signed a treaty eliminating the medium-range nuclear-tipped ones, such as the Pershings and SS-20s, that had convulsed Europe's politics for much of the 1980s. The angry British women who had set up “peace camps” outside the missile base at Greenham Common eventually rolled up their sleeping bags and went home.
This week the missile wars returned—on two fronts. General Nikolai Solovtsov, commander of Russia's strategic forces, warned Poland and the Czech Republic that if they went ahead with plans to allow the rockets and radars of an American anti-missile system to be installed on their territory, Russian forces would be “capable of having these installations as their targets”. Condoleezza Rice, America's secretary of state, called that “an extremely unfortunate comment”. The Czech foreign minister accused Russia bluntly of “blackmail”.
Where has this sudden squall blown in from? As Russia's president, Vladimir Putin, surely knows, the anti-missile radar the Czechs are receiving, and the battery of anti-missile missiles that may end up in Poland, are not aimed at Russia. They are parts of a defensive shield that NATO has concluded could help defend both America and its European allies from a different threat altogether: the growing danger of long-range missiles, potentially even nuclear-armed ones, from countries such as Iran and North Korea. And the anti-missile missiles may not even in the end be based in Poland.
The Economist has learned that Britain has also made a bid to become the European base for them (see article). This, however, highlights the second front—the battle for domestic public opinion. With the row over the Iraq war still reverberating, this offer will come as a red rag to Britain's vocal anti-everything-Bush-stands-for lobby. Just the sort of poodlish behaviour from Tony Blair's government that we have come to expect, many will fume. Why make Britain more of a target?
For Britain's Labour government, this is already round two of the missile-defence debate. At America's request, it agreed in 2003 to upgrade an early-warning radar system at Fylingdales; that radar is already a working component of America's still developing anti-missile plans. If the Fylingdales decision was controversial, offering to host the interceptors that might shoot down missiles bound for America or Europe as they travel through space is sure to be more so. Yet, as it did last time, the Blair government should welcome a robust debate.
A false alarm
During the cold war, when the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction helped to keep the peace, a case could be made that building defences against incoming missiles would be destabilising. So it was not just the usual anti-American crowd that was alarmed when George Bush insisted, soon after becoming president—and eventually Russia accepted—that their long-standing Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) treaty be scrapped. By preventing either side from building an effective anti-missile shield, the rules meant neither side had been tempted to strike the other in the belief that it was safe from a counter-attack. Surely scrapping such limits on defences was a mistake? Wasn't Mr Bush planning to bolster America's security at everyone else's expense? And won't extending his anti-missile shield a bit farther over Europe enrage the Russians anew and just end up making everyone less secure?
In fact, scrapping the ABM treaty, far from worsening America-Russia rivalry, left the Russians free to look more realistically to their own defences. And instead of the new arms race that was predicted, America and Russia, no longer enemies, quickly agreed to far deeper cuts in the numbers of strategic warheads they had pointing at each other than either had previously imagined possible.
Mr Putin may not like the Czechs and Poles—former vassals of the old Soviet Union that are now NATO members—volunteering for new missile-defence duty. But putting ten interceptors in Poland, or Britain, or anywhere else in Europe for that matter, will do nothing to blunt Russia's vast nuclear deterrent. America should do more to reassure Mr Putin of that. Indeed, it would reduce tension if the Americans responded to Russia's request to negotiate further arms-control treaties. But the only real damage to Russia from this episode will be self-inflicted: Mr Putin and his generals have reminded the Czechs and the Poles, and others queueing outside the door, why they wanted to join NATO in the first place.
And a real threat
Other governments have come to accept that their security is genuinely at risk from those more limited, but less predictable, threats. Japan and Australia have been co-operating with America to help fend off the danger from North Korea's missiles. Iran's tests of increasingly far-flying rockets, and its repeated refusal to heed UN Security Council deadlines (another passed this week) to end nuclear work that could be abused for bomb-making, have convinced even NATO's sceptics that limited defences can bolster security in Europe too.
Yet it is worth keeping in mind just how limited a role such limited defences can play. Even if the missiles America is still testing can be made to work properly, technology is seldom flawless. At best, therefore, the extra defences can offer a little bit of extra insurance in a crisis, by helping to persuade an aggressor that an attack, or a threatened one in an attempt at nuclear blackmail, might well fail and invite retribution instead.
Might. So the best way of avoiding getting to crisis-point is still to uphold and strengthen the rules against nuclear proliferation. Only far more robust diplomacy than has been tried so far seems likely to discourage Iran from pressing ahead with its nuclear ambitions. And there Russia is key. Mr Putin worked hard to ensure that the first sanctions resolution on Iran, passed in December, was as feeble as he could make it. What folly. A nuclear-armed Iran would bring instability to Russia's borders in a way neither NATO nor the modest American missile defences in Europe ever will.
<< Home