Ukrainian forces have reported the sudden loss of satellite communications during high-speed drone operations after SpaceX imposed new restrictions on its military-grade Starshield service. The disruption revives questions over American control of Ukraine’s battlefield communications and follows earlier controversies involving Elon Musk’s intervention in Ukrainian military operations.
Ukraine’s armed forces have reported serious disruptions to drone operations after Elon Musk’s SpaceX introduced new restrictions on its Starshield satellite communications service overnight on 13–14 October. The changes reportedly caused Ukrainian unmanned aircraft to lose connectivity when travelling faster than 160 kilometres per hour, forcing the abandonment of several military missions.
The restrictions were confirmed by Serhiy Beskrestnov, an adviser to President Volodymyr Zelenskyy on defence technologies, who said Ukrainian forces had received no advance warning. According to his account of the disruption, the new limit of 100 miles per hour applies to Starshield, the military communications service developed by SpaceX for government and defence applications.
Serhiy Sternenko, a prominent Ukrainian volunteer and former adviser to the defence minister, was among the first to report the problem. In a statement published on Wednesday morning, he said satellite connections had begun disappearing once drones exceeded the new speed threshold, disrupting several important missions. Sternenko suggested that the decision might have been taken at the request of President Donald Trump’s administration, although no evidence establishing such an instruction has been made public.
Four Ukrainian military personnel speaking to Ukrainska Pravda independently reported problems with Starshield. One commander provided footage purportedly showing two Ukrainian drones losing their satellite connections during flight and becoming unable to complete their missions.
The restrictions do not appear to affect ordinary Starlink terminals operating within their existing speed limits. However, military-grade Starshield connectivity allows Ukraine to operate certain unmanned systems at considerably higher speeds, including aircraft conducting long-range missions against Russian military and industrial targets.
Previous disputes over Starlink access
The latest interruption is not the first occasion on which SpaceX has limited Ukraine’s military use of its satellite network. Since Russia launched its full-scale invasion in February 2022, Starlink has become an essential component of Ukrainian battlefield communications, supporting frontline command systems, artillery coordination and unmanned operations.
In September 2022, during Ukraine’s counteroffensive in the south, Starlink communications failed in areas where Ukrainian forces were attempting to advance against Russian positions. A subsequent investigation published in July 2025 reported that Musk had personally ordered the suspension of service across parts of the battlefield, including areas around Kherson.
The interruption reportedly affected reconnaissance, artillery targeting and communications between military units at a critical stage of the operation. The investigation raised questions about the ability of a private technology provider to influence military operations through decisions governing access to its infrastructure.
Another controversy emerged in September 2023, when Musk acknowledged refusing a Ukrainian request to activate Starlink coverage near Sevastopol in Russian-occupied Crimea. Ukrainian forces had intended to use unmanned naval vessels against Russia’s Black Sea Fleet.
Musk argued that enabling the operation could have made SpaceX complicit in a major escalation of the war. His explanation also challenged earlier accounts suggesting he had actively switched off an existing connection, rather than declined to activate coverage in the requested area.
In February 2023, SpaceX president Gwynne Shotwell had already confirmed restrictions on Ukrainian drone operations, explaining that the company had not intended its commercial communications network to be used directly as a weapon.
Military dependence and American leverage
The Pentagon attempted to establish a more formal relationship with SpaceX in June 2023, contracting the company to provide satellite communications to Ukrainian forces. However, the contractual arrangements and the extent of American government authority over operational restrictions have never been fully disclosed.
Ukraine subsequently gained access to Starshield, which SpaceX describes as a secure satellite network intended specifically for national security applications. Unlike the commercial Starlink service, Starshield is designed to support government communications and other sensitive operations.
The latest restrictions therefore concern a service intended for military use rather than the civilian network at the centre of earlier disputes. Their introduction without advance notification has renewed concerns about Ukraine’s dependence on communications infrastructure controlled outside the country.
The timing is particularly sensitive as Washington and Kyiv continue to disagree over Ukrainian strikes against Russian energy facilities and the terms of a possible ceasefire. Ukraine has maintained that attacks against Russia’s oil industry are part of its campaign to reduce Moscow’s ability to finance and sustain the invasion.
Nevertheless, there is currently no independently established connection between those diplomatic disagreements and SpaceX’s decision to impose the new speed restriction. Neither a technical explanation nor evidence of an instruction from Washington had been publicly established when the disruption was reported.
For Ukrainian commanders, the immediate problem is operational. High-speed unmanned aircraft depend on reliable communications for navigation, mission management and the transmission of information. A restriction introduced without warning can render previously functioning systems ineffective in the middle of an operation.
The incident has exposed a persistent vulnerability in Ukraine’s military communications arrangements: even where the necessary aircraft, operators and mission capabilities are available, their employment may remain subject to restrictions imposed by an external satellite operator.
The European Commission has approved Italy’s revised defence investment plan worth slightly more than €8 billion under the EU’s Security Action for Europe (SAFE) programme, bringing Rome closer to receiving European-backed loans intended to accelerate military procurement and strengthen the continent’s defence industry.
The decision was confirmed in Brussels on Tuesday, 13th October, by Commission spokesman Thomas Regnier, who said the updated Italian proposal had received the executive’s approval. The plan must now obtain the Council’s endorsement before the loan agreement can be signed and the first payment released.
Under the procedure outlined by the Commission, Italy would become eligible for an initial disbursement amounting to 15 per cent of its approved loan following completion of the remaining formalities. For a package worth approximately €8 billion, that would represent around €1.2 billion in initial financing.
The approval comes as European governments seek to translate commitments to increased military expenditure into procurement contracts, industrial production and operational capabilities.
Italy’s position in European defence industry
Italy is among the EU’s principal defence manufacturing countries, with substantial industrial capabilities in aerospace, naval construction, electronics, military vehicles and weapons systems.
Companies including Leonardo and Fincantieri occupy important positions in multinational defence programmes, while smaller manufacturers contribute specialised equipment, components and technologies.
The Commission has emphasised Italy’s industrial importance in explaining its support for the revised plan.
Nevertheless, approval of the financing proposal does not establish precisely how the money will be distributed among manufacturers or procurement programmes. Individual contractual arrangements will depend on the projects included in the approved national plan and the relevant purchasing decisions.
Italy had previously been associated with a substantially larger indicative SAFE allocation, but its updated application concerns approximately €8 billion.
The revised amount illustrates the distinction between the borrowing capacity initially made available to member states and the financing they ultimately seek through their national investment proposals.
How SAFE financing operates
SAFE was established in May 2025 as part of the EU’s wider effort to improve defence readiness following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
Unlike grants from the EU budget, these loans must be repaid by the borrowing member states. Their attraction lies principally in the financing conditions available through the Union’s borrowing arrangements.
SAFE is intended to support the procurement of equipment including ammunition, missiles, artillery systems, drones, air and missile defence systems, maritime capabilities and military mobility infrastructure.
An important feature is its emphasis on cooperation between European purchasers rather than exclusively national acquisition programmes.
Under the applicable regulation, joint procurement is generally intended to involve at least two eligible participating countries, although temporary provisions allow certain purchases by individual member states.
The rules also impose requirements concerning the geographic origin of components, reflecting the programme’s objective of increasing industrial capacity within Europe and eligible partner countries.
At least 65 per cent of component costs must originate within the permitted European and Ukrainian industrial base.
European production remains the central challenge
European governments have substantially increased defence expenditure, but higher budgets do not automatically resolve shortages in manufacturing capacity.
Production lines for ammunition, missiles and complex weapons systems require specialised machinery, skilled workers, component suppliers and sufficiently predictable orders to justify expansion.
Many defence companies have traditionally operated against fragmented national requirements. Different governments have purchased equipment in relatively small quantities, often imposing separate technical specifications and procurement conditions.
This fragmentation can increase costs and complicate maintenance, training and interoperability.
Brussels hopes that the combination of common financing and joint procurement will encourage member states to coordinate orders, giving manufacturers more predictable demand.
The challenge is particularly acute in air defence and precision-guided weapons, where European forces face both urgent requirements and lengthy production cycles.
SAFE can provide financing for eligible purchases, but the speed at which industry delivers equipment depends on existing capacity and the ability to expand production.
The next steps for Rome
Italy’s plan now moves to the Council, where the required approval must be secured before the Commission and Italian authorities can conclude the financing agreement.
Once the agreement is signed, the first tranche will provide financing for investment under the programme, with subsequent payments governed by the relevant arrangements.
The scale of Italy’s participation gives the decision significance beyond its immediate financial value.
As one of the EU’s largest manufacturing economies, Italy will be an important test of whether European defence financing can generate procurement cooperation across national borders while strengthening existing industrial capacity.
The effectiveness of the programme will ultimately be measured through signed contracts, production increases and the delivery of equipment to European armed forces, rather than the headline amount of approved borrowing.
A heat pump subsidy scheme launched by Ed Miliband just nine months ago is facing cuts to help fund defence as the public continues to reject the technology and the quiet Net Zero rollback marches on.
Washington’s proposed energy ceasefire could force Ukraine to abandon one of its most effective means of economic pressure against Russia without securing equivalent concessions from Moscow. Donald Trump’s parallel agreement with Vladimir Putin over Russian diesel raises further questions about whether American energy priorities are beginning to dictate the terms of negotiations over Ukraine.
President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has placed an important qualification on Donald Trump’s proposed energy ceasefire: Ukraine will stop attacking Russian energy facilities only if Moscow stops targeting Ukraine’s electricity generation and distribution infrastructure. Speaking at the Warsaw Security Forum on Monday, 12 October, Zelenskyy confirmed Kyiv’s willingness to accept a reciprocal arrangement while pointing out that Russian attacks had continued after the American president announced that a ceasefire was already in effect.
The sequence of events has exposed a fundamental weakness in Washington’s initiative. On 11 October, Trump announced an immediate energy ceasefire, declaring that Russia and Ukraine had both agreed to suspend attacks on energy infrastructure. Yet Kyiv had not received the agreement’s terms, Moscow had offered no public confirmation, and Russian drones continued striking Ukrainian power facilities, including a combined heat and power plant in Kharkiv.
Zelenskyy’s response was deliberately restrained. Rather than reject Trump’s initiative, he welcomed the possibility of an agreement while insisting that Russia demonstrate its acceptance through its actions. His remarks also exposed the difference between announcing a diplomatic understanding and establishing an enforceable military arrangement.
An unequal exchange
The apparent symmetry of an agreement prohibiting attacks on energy facilities disguises substantial differences between the two countries.
Russia retains an extensive oil-refining industry, producing fuels for domestic consumption, military operations and export. Ukrainian drone attacks on refineries have consequently become an instrument of economic warfare, disrupting production, increasing operating costs and forcing Moscow to divert resources towards protecting strategically important industrial installations.
Ukraine occupies a different position. Its major oil-refining capacity was devastated early in the full-scale invasion, including the Kremenchuk refinery. Russia’s present campaign is concentrated heavily on electricity generation, substations, heating systems and other installations essential to maintaining civilian life and economic activity.
An agreement narrowly focused on oil refineries would therefore protect an important Russian asset while offering Ukraine comparatively little protection. A comprehensive energy ceasefire could be reciprocal, but only if it explicitly covered the infrastructure each side actually possesses and attacks.
Zelenskyy’s insistence on equivalent obligations is consequently more than a negotiating formula. It seeks to prevent Washington from treating attacks on Russian fuel production and the destruction of Ukraine’s electricity and heating networks as interchangeable military activities without examining their respective consequences.
The distinction becomes particularly consequential with winter approaching. A Ukrainian suspension of attacks on Russian refineries could allow Moscow to restore production and rebuild damaged facilities. Unless Russia simultaneously halted attacks on Ukrainian energy infrastructure, Kyiv would surrender an important means of pressure while remaining exposed to further disruption of electricity and heating supplies.
The American pressure campaign
The concern in Kyiv is no longer confined to the proposed ceasefire’s wording. European officials have disclosed that Washington is threatening to restrict military assistance and intelligence sharing unless Ukraine suspends its strikes against Russian refineries.
According to accounts of the American pressure campaign, the threatened measures include suspending the Prioritised Ukraine Requirements List (PURL), the NATO-coordinated mechanism through which European countries finance purchases of American weapons for Ukraine. Reuters was unable to independently verify the reported threats, and the White House had not responded publicly.
If implemented, such restrictions would establish a direct connection between Ukraine’s willingness to accommodate Washington’s energy priorities and its access to essential military support.
This creates an imbalance in the negotiations. Moscow could continue military operations while Kyiv faced the possibility of losing American assistance for refusing an agreement whose Russian obligations remain undefined.
The diesel agreement and its political significance
The ceasefire proposal also needs to be examined alongside Trump’s separate agreement with Putin, announced on 9 October, to increase Russian diesel supplies.
Trump stated that Russia would initially release more than 300,000 tonnes of diesel, followed by another 500,000 tonnes in November and one million tonnes thereafter. Further supplies were envisaged, depending on Russia’s refining capacity.
The US Treasury subsequently issued General Licence 135, authorising transactions involving Russian-origin diesel that would otherwise face sanctions restrictions.
The initial volumes are unlikely to transform international diesel markets. Nevertheless, the agreement gives Washington a commercial interest in maintaining Russian refinery output at precisely the moment Ukrainian attacks are disrupting it.
Trump has an evident domestic incentive to seek lower fuel prices before the American congressional elections on 3 November. Putin, meanwhile, has an interest in preserving Russia’s refining capacity and reopening sanctioned markets.
These interests need not prove the existence of a coordinated political strategy against Kyiv. They do, however, create conditions in which American economic priorities and Russian military objectives could converge.
The possibility becomes more significant when considered alongside Trump’s public criticism of Zelenskyy and his suggestion that Ukraine requires different leadership.
The risk of a diplomatic trap
The most consequential scenario is one in which Washington demands immediate Ukrainian compliance while leaving Russia’s obligations subject to subsequent negotiation.
If Kyiv suspends refinery attacks without obtaining verifiable Russian commitments, Moscow gains relief from a costly Ukrainian campaign. If Kyiv refuses, Washington could present that refusal as an obstacle to peace and use it to justify restrictions on military assistance.
This is a possible negotiating outcome, not an established secret agreement between Trump and Putin. There is no publicly verified evidence that the two presidents arranged the ceasefire specifically to force Ukraine into such a position.
Nevertheless, the combination of the diesel agreement, American pressure over refinery strikes and the premature announcement of a ceasefire creates a credible risk that Ukraine could be required to make concessions before Russia demonstrates any corresponding restraint.
The implications extend beyond Ukraine. European governments financing American weapons through PURL would find their own assistance programmes vulnerable to Washington’s decisions over an energy arrangement negotiated separately with Moscow.
For Brussels, the immediate question is therefore whether European military support can remain dependable if American commercial interests increasingly influence the conditions attached to supplying Ukraine.
Kyiv’s remaining leverage
Ukraine’s attacks on Russian refineries cannot by themselves compel Moscow to end the war. They can, however, impose material economic costs and complicate Russia’s ability to maintain fuel production, exports and military logistics.
Abandoning those attacks without an enforceable agreement would remove pressure from Moscow without ensuring that Ukrainian civilians receive any corresponding protection.
Zelenskyy’s position preserves an alternative: simultaneous, reciprocal restrictions covering electricity generation, heating installations, oil refineries and other specified energy infrastructure, supported by clear verification procedures and consequences for violations.
Whether Washington is prepared to enforce such an arrangement against Russia remains unanswered.
The central danger for Kyiv is not an energy ceasefire itself. It is an arrangement in which Ukraine’s obligations are immediate and enforceable through the threat of lost American support, while Russia’s obligations remain uncertain.
Until that imbalance is resolved, Trump’s initiative risks delivering Moscow protection for its oil industry without securing protection for Ukraine’s energy system.
European Union leaders will meet in Brussels on 15–16 October under pressure to address surging energy costs, Russian hybrid attacks, continued support for Ukraine and the bloc’s next long-term budget. The summit comes as economic pressures expose growing differences between national governments.
European Union leaders are preparing for a two-day summit in Brussels dominated by the economic consequences of the Middle East conflict, Russia’s continuing war against Ukraine and mounting pressure on governments to reconcile defence commitments with deteriorating public finances.
The European Council meeting on 15–16 October will bring together the leaders of the 27 member states to consider immediate measures addressing high energy prices alongside longer-term decisions on competitiveness, enlargement, migration and the EU’s budget for 2028–2034.
European Council President António Costa has placed economic competitiveness and energy costs at the centre of the discussions, reflecting concerns that the disruption of global oil and gas markets is threatening the bloc’s industrial recovery.
The meeting also takes place against the background of renewed disputes over national spending limits, with Italy and Greece seeking greater freedom to finance energy relief and France facing increasing pressure over the credibility of its budget.
Energy crisis puts fiscal rules under pressure
The Middle East conflict has created a renewed energy shock for European economies, raising transport and industrial costs while pushing inflation higher.
The disruption of shipping through the Strait of Hormuz has also affected global oil supplies, exposing Europe’s continuing dependence on internationally traded fossil fuels despite efforts to diversify imports following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.
European leaders are expected to consider targeted and temporary support measures for households and businesses, as well as longer-term policies intended to reduce energy dependence.
The political disagreement concerns how those measures should be financed.
The European Commission has resisted requests from Italy and Greece for further exemptions from the EU’s fiscal framework. Both governments argue that extraordinary energy costs require additional budgetary flexibility.
Brussels maintains that existing provisions already permit exceptional expenditure within defined limits.
The disagreement is particularly difficult for indebted governments that must simultaneously finance military expansion, maintain public services and protect their economies from energy inflation.
France’s position has added urgency to the debate. Its borrowing costs have increased sharply as investors question whether the government can adopt a credible budget ahead of the 2027 presidential election.
A summit agreement on emergency energy assistance would therefore have to accommodate substantially different national fiscal circumstances.
Ukraine and the changing transatlantic relationship
Support for Ukraine remains a central item on the summit agenda as Russia continues attacks against Ukrainian cities, energy infrastructure and industrial facilities.
EU leaders are expected to review military and financial assistance, the implementation of sanctions against Moscow and the resilience of Ukraine’s economy.
The discussions take place amid renewed uncertainty surrounding American weapons deliveries.
Washington’s reported threats to suspend supplies under the NATO-backed PURL procurement arrangement have raised further questions about Europe’s dependence on the United States for advanced military equipment.
European governments have increased defence expenditure and committed additional support to Ukraine, but replacing American capabilities remains difficult, particularly in air defence, precision-guided weapons and certain intelligence systems.
The summit is unlikely to resolve those industrial limitations, but the broader question of Europe’s ability to sustain Ukrainian defence over several years will influence discussions.
Member states must also consider how increased defence expenditure will be financed alongside other demands on national budgets.
Russian hybrid operations move higher on the agenda
The issue has gained prominence as European governments investigate sabotage, cyber operations, information interference and threats against infrastructure and defence-related industries.
Recent warnings concerning possible Russian assassination operations targeting European defence executives and employees of companies supplying Ukraine illustrate the changing nature of the security threat.
Such activities place additional demands on national intelligence services, police forces and European institutions responsible for cross-border cooperation.
The EU has strengthened its sanctions instruments against hybrid activities, but enforcement remains dependent on coordination between national authorities.
Any further measures would need to address intelligence sharing, protection of critical infrastructure and the relationship between internal security and the Union’s wider Russia policy.
Brussels has outlined possible institutional safeguards intended to prevent future members from undermining democratic standards or blocking common decisions.
Montenegro and Albania are advancing through their accession negotiations, while Ukraine and Moldova remain central to the EU’s geopolitical enlargement strategy.
The financial implications will become increasingly important as governments negotiate the next multiannual financial framework covering 2028–2034.
Existing members are already divided over how much the EU should spend, which programmes should receive priority and whether additional common resources should be raised.
Agricultural expenditure, cohesion funding, defence investment and support for Ukraine will compete for resources within the same budget negotiations.
The Commission argues that enlargement can be accommodated through targeted reforms, but securing agreement among member states will require decisions on future expenditure and the distribution of financial benefits.
Competitiveness and the single market
Leaders will also examine progress on the One Europe, One Market agenda, which aims to reduce barriers to economic activity within the EU and improve conditions for European businesses.
The initiative is intended to address structural weaknesses affecting investment, industrial development and the ability of European companies to compete internationally.
High energy prices have made those concerns more immediate, particularly for industries competing against producers in economies where electricity and fuel are cheaper.
The European Council will be asked to provide direction on measures planned for 2026 and 2027, but implementation will depend on subsequent legislation and decisions by member states.
The October meeting brings several unresolved European policy questions into the same negotiation: how to protect economic competitiveness, maintain fiscal credibility, finance defence, sustain Ukraine and prepare for enlargement.
The immediate test will be whether leaders can agree on a credible response to energy prices without reopening broader disputes over national budgets.
More difficult decisions concerning defence financing, institutional reform and the EU’s long-term expenditure commitments will extend well beyond the two-day summit.
Poland has launched a nationwide security operation after three knife attacks at educational institutions left one woman dead and more than a dozen people injured. Police have detained 117 people amid a wave of online threats, while intelligence officials are examining whether Russian disinformation networks exploited the violence to spread panic.
Poland is confronting an unprecedented school security crisis after a succession of violent attacks by young people triggered widespread fear, school closures and a nationwide police mobilisation. By Sunday, 11 October, officers had detained 117 people and conducted nearly 64,000 security checks at educational establishments, as the authorities attempted to contain both genuine threats and an escalating campaign of intimidation on social media.
The crisis reached its height on Friday, 9 October, when warnings circulated about a supposed nationwide killing campaign known as “Bloody Friday”. Videos, threatening messages and lists of potential targets spread through TikTok, messaging platforms and school discussion groups, prompting parents to keep children at home and several local authorities to suspend classroom teaching.
Although police have found no evidence of an organised nationwide conspiracy, the violence that preceded the rumours was real. Three separate attacks took place between 7 and 10 October, while investigators are examining hundreds of other incidents involving threats or suspected criminal activity.
Two attacks that triggered nationwide panic
The first major incident occurred on Wednesday, 7 October, at a vocational school in Ostrołęka, north-east of Warsaw. A 19-year-old student armed with a machete attacked pupils, teachers and other people in and around the building, injuring nine victims before harming himself.
Investigators subsequently discovered a homemade explosive device inside his backpack. The suspect was arrested, and prosecutors brought nine charges against him, including attempted murder. The discovery of explosives raised further questions about the extent of his preparations and the possibility of a substantially higher death toll.
The following day, a 15-year-old former pupil entered a primary school in Leszczydół-Nowiny, near Wyszków, and attacked three members of staff with a knife. A 37-year-old caretaker died from her injuries, while two teachers, including the headteacher, were wounded.
According to investigators, the teenager wore a helmet-mounted camera, raising suspicions that he intended to record the assault. The official prosecution statement confirmed the victim’s death and the detention of the suspect.
The attacks were followed by threatening messages from other teenagers, including a video attributed to a 17-year-old in the Przasnysz district who claimed to be participating in a competition involving killings. Police subsequently detained him. In Sierpc, another 17-year-old was arrested after allegedly discussing plans for violence at school; officers discovered two knives.
Thousands of schools under police surveillance
The rumours produced an immediate reaction. Schools in Wyszków, Ciechanów, Pułtusk and other municipalities cancelled classroom teaching or introduced remote lessons. Elsewhere, parents independently withdrew their children, leaving some classrooms largely empty.
Police launched an extensive preventive operation, deploying additional officers around schools and investigating online threats.
According to the figures released on 11 October, the authorities had recorded 275 incidents requiring investigation, detained 117 people and carried out nearly 64,000 checks at schools, nurseries and other educational facilities.
The situation deteriorated further on Saturday, 10 October, when a 21-year-old student attacked three people at a post-secondary educational institution in Warsaw. Two 17-year-old girls and a 24-year-old woman were injured. One victim required hospital treatment, although none of the injuries was considered life-threatening.
Interior Minister Marcin Kierwiński subsequently stated that investigators had established no links between the recent attacks. The authorities nevertheless remain concerned about imitation offences, particularly where threatening material circulates among teenagers through closed online communities.
Russia’s possible role in spreading panic
The events have also raised questions about whether hostile foreign actors deliberately amplified the crisis. Tomasz Siemoniak, Poland’s minister responsible for coordinating the intelligence services, warned that Russian organisations routinely exploit domestic emergencies to spread disinformation and undermine confidence in public institutions.
In his statement on 9 October, Siemoniak acknowledged the possibility of foreign involvement but stressed the need for evidence before assigning responsibility.
There is, at present, no publicly established evidence that Moscow organised the school attacks or directed the subsequent threats. Nevertheless, the rapid circulation of alarming videos, fabricated warnings and unverified target lists illustrates how genuine violent incidents can be exploited to disrupt everyday life without further physical attacks.
The episode also presents a challenge for European regulators. Poland is examining measures against dangerous online content, while its existing obligations under the EU Digital Services Act provide a framework for addressing systemic risks associated with major platforms.
For Donald Tusk’s government, the immediate priority is preventing further attacks as schools reopen under heightened security. The longer-term challenge concerns the interaction between online radicalisation, copycat violence and disinformation capable of transforming isolated crimes into a national emergency.
Intelligence services from five European countries warn that Russia is expanding assassination and sabotage operations against defence manufacturers supplying Ukraine. The threats coincide with an alleged plot against Poland’s prime minister and defence minister, raising concerns about Moscow’s efforts to undermine European military assistance through intimidation and political destabilisation.
European intelligence agencies have warned that Russia is intensifying efforts to assassinate executives of defence companies supplying Ukraine, extending its campaign of sabotage and intimidation into the European military-industrial sector.
According to intelligence assessments obtained from five European security services, Moscow has ordered an expansion of covert operations targeting senior figures at major arms manufacturers and smaller companies producing drones and military components. Germany’s domestic intelligence agency, the BfV, has reportedly advised executives to strengthen personal security, while some manufacturers have already increased protection for senior personnel.
The warnings emerged alongside reports of an alleged assassination plot against Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk and Defence Minister Władysław Kosiniak-Kamysz. Polish authorities convened an emergency security meeting and subsequently detained a suspect. No connection between the Polish case and Russian intelligence has been established.
Europe becomes Moscow’s principal target
The apparent expansion of Russian covert operations reflects a shift in Moscow’s calculations concerning Western military assistance.
President Vladimir Putin had reason to anticipate that Donald Trump’s return to the White House would weaken American support for Kyiv. Trump repeatedly questioned US military expenditure on Ukraine and advocated a negotiated settlement with Russia. A substantial reduction in American weapons deliveries could have increased pressure on Ukraine to accept Moscow’s territorial demands.
Instead, European governments assumed greater responsibility for sustaining Ukrainian defence capabilities, including financing weapons purchases and expanding domestic production.
The European Union’s €90 billion support programme for 2026–2027 allocates €60 billion to defence procurement and industrial capacity. The EU has also established mechanisms allowing Ukraine to participate in European joint procurement programmes.
Disrupting European manufacturers therefore offers Moscow a means of restricting Ukraine’s military capabilities without directly confronting NATO.
Assassination threats can interfere with procurement even when attacks are never carried out. Large manufacturers can afford extensive security arrangements, but smaller companies producing electronics, drone components and specialised equipment often lack comparable resources.
Intimidation could delay contracts, discourage investment and persuade individual suppliers to withdraw from Ukrainian defence programmes.
As EU Today previously reported, Moscow has also publicly identified European factories involved in Ukrainian drone production, increasing concerns that civilian industrial facilities could become targets of Russian operations.
European authorities have investigated suspected Russian involvement in arson, infrastructure attacks and clandestine networks. An earlier cross-border investigation into alleged assassination and sabotage preparations demonstrated how intermediaries could be recruited to conduct operations while obscuring their sponsors.
Such activity also carries political consequences. Attacks against infrastructure and industrial facilities can reinforce public fears about confrontation with Russia, particularly during elections when parties advocating accommodation with Moscow seek to exploit security concerns.
Poland has already experienced mounting Russian hybrid pressure, including threats to critical infrastructure and information operations intended to aggravate domestic political divisions.
Putin’s strategy against European rearmament
Ukraine’s continuing strikes against Russian refineries and military-industrial facilities have added economic and operational pressures to Moscow’s prolonged war effort. Russia retains substantial military production capacity, but the costs of sustaining the conflict remain considerable.
Interfering with European weapons manufacturing could serve two objectives: restricting Ukraine’s access to equipment and obstructing Europe’s longer-term rearmament.
The Kremlin does not necessarily need European governments to abandon Ukraine formally. Production delays, disrupted contracts and reluctant suppliers could reduce the practical effect of military assistance even while political commitments remain unchanged.
European governments have acknowledged the industrial challenge. In its June conclusions on European defence, the European Council called for accelerated manufacturing capacity, stronger supply chains and closer cooperation with Ukraine’s defence industry.
Russia’s apparent strategy seeks to exploit the dependence of these programmes on private companies and skilled civilian personnel.
The warnings from European intelligence agencies suggest that protecting defence executives, engineers and contractors is becoming part of the continent’s wider security responsibilities.
For Moscow, intimidation offers the possibility of weakening Ukrainian military resistance without an open confrontation with NATO. For European governments, preventing covert operations from disrupting weapons production is increasingly inseparable from their commitment to sustain Ukraine’s defence.
A giant wind farm risks blinding radar used to track Russian jets and missiles, the Ministry of Defence has warned as it opposes Net Zero plans to build 23 turbines twice the height of Big Ben in Yorkshire.
The EU should not accept any cuts to the proposed allocation of funds to defence and security in the next long-term EU budget, German MEP Marie-Agnes Strack-Zimmermann said in Strasbourg on Wednesday.
“Without security, we have no discussion anymore about anything,” the chair of the European Parliament’s committee on defence and security (SEDE) told the European Newsroom (enr) on the sidelines of Parliament’s plenary session.
The European Commission has proposed €131 billion for investment in defence, security and space under the European Competitiveness Fund in the EU’s 2028–2034 budget. This represents a five-fold increase compared with the current budget period.
Asked what compromise she would accept on the size, funding or allocation of defence spending to secure a budget agreement, Strack-Zimmermann said: “We need everything without compromises.”
The next long-term budget requires unanimous agreement among EU member states and the European Parliament’s consent.
Support for Ukraine
Strack-Zimmermann accused Russia of trying to deter European leaders from visiting Kyiv and undermine their support for Ukraine following attacks during German Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s visit last Sunday.
Asked about accelerating deliveries to Ukraine to defend itself against Russia’s war of agression, Strack-Zimmermann said funding was available but action required approval from national governments.
Ukraine needed humanitarian, military and economic assistance, including money to produce more weapons to protect its people, she said.
All in on SAFE
Strack-Zimmermann urged countries to move faster on joint defence procurement, backing the EU’s Security Action for Europe (SAFE) instrument.
SAFE provides up to €150 billion in competitively priced loans to member states aimed at accelerating large-scale investment in critical capabilities.
“We have more than 150 different weapons systems and to protect Europe we need this SAFE program,” the German politician said.
She said the programme had attracted interest both within and outside the EU. According to the European Commission, 19 EU member states have submitted defence investment plans, such as France, Italy and Poland, but not Germany.
The first non-European country to participate in SAFE was Canada, which concluded an agreement with the EU in June.
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen used her State of the Union address on Wednesday (16 September) to make the case for a more independent Europe, confronting war, economic competition, AI disruption and climate change — while proposing Canada become the EU’s first associate member.
Opening her #SOTEU speech with Charles Dickens’ “best of times, worst of times”, von der Leyen described a Union stronger but also more exposed to external threats.
“The state of our Union is the strongest it has ever been,” she said, while acknowledging it could feel “as precarious as it has ever been”. “Europe has chosen to forge its own path. And a stronger, independent Europe is now emerging.”
Competitiveness and energy
Von der Leyen called kickstarting Europe’s economy her “number one priority”, promising faster permitting, less red tape and further integration of the Single Market.
The Commission will propose a new Banking Package and create a European Corporation on Critical Raw Materials to secure supplies needed for chips, batteries, clean technology and defence.
With high energy costs weighing on European industry, von der Leyen called for faster electrification and investment in grids, renewables and nuclear power to reduce dependence on imported fossil fuels.
Climate after a 'summer of truth'
After a summer of fires, drought and extreme heat, von der Leyen promised a climate resilience framework focused on 100 of Europe’s most vulnerable territories, alongside a Climate Insurance Alliance, European Heatwave Plan and Water Initiative.
She also floated a future European Firefighting Fleet, declaring that Europe “can, must and will stay the course” on its climate targets.
AI: Opportunity and threat
AI was presented as both an economic opportunity and an emerging security threat. Von der Leyen warned that advanced models could enable hacking “on a level we never thought possible” and pledged closer cooperation with Canada, the UK and others on AI security.
At the same time, Europe will expand computing capacity and push AI into health, transport, agriculture, manufacturing, defence and space. “Above all, we want AI with human agency,” she said.
Jobs, housing and social rights
The Commission plans a Quality Jobs Act before the end of the year and a European Care Deal, alongside measures tackling housing pressures.
Von der Leyen said technological change must benefit workers, while strongly defending women’s rights and Europe’s social model.
One of the biggest surprises came with Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney in the chamber.
Von der Leyen proposed an “Alliance for the Future” spanning technology, defence, energy, critical minerals, AI and the Arctic — before going further.
“I would like to work with you on opening the door for Canada to be the first associate member of the EU,” she told Carney. “We share one ocean, one set of values, one way of seeing the world.”
Security, defence and Ukraine
With drone incursions, cyberattacks and sabotage raising security concerns inside the EU, von der Leyen proposed a new European security strategy and an Emergency Security Protocol for incidents falling below the threshold of armed aggression.
She also wants to establish a European Security Council and strengthen joint European defence capabilities.
Ukraine faces what von der Leyen called the “toughest winter of the war”. She promised humanitarian and energy support, stronger air defences and deeper defence-industrial cooperation with Kyiv.
Borders, democracy and children online
The Commission will propose an Emergency Response Framework for exceptional migration crises and strengthen Frontex, while launching a Mediterranean Youth Skills and Jobs initiative.
Von der Leyen also announced an EU KIDS ACT, including no social media for under-13s and restrictions for children under 15, followed by a broader Digital Fairness Act.
Political groups draw battle lines
EPP leader Manfred Weber backed the focus on AI, defence and competitiveness but pushed against restrictive climate policies. “Climate change is a reality,” he said, arguing Europe needed “innovation and not bans.”
S&D leader Iratxe García Pérez demanded that von der Leyen turn “words into action”, backing climate investment, housing and worker protections while warning that simplification must not become deregulation.
Renew Europe leader Valérie Hayer made a pointed appeal for the Parliament’s pro-European majority, as the EPP has increasingly worked with parties further to the right on some legislation. “There’s only one possible majority. It’s our pro-European majority,” she said. “We need to do more. We need more Europe, and we need it more quickly.”
Greens/EFA co-chair Terry Reintke accused EU leaders of failing to respond urgently enough to extreme heat and wildfires. “We are in the middle of a climate emergency,” she said, demanding stronger Green Deal implementation while insisting: “We are not powerless. Europe is strong, and Europe can be even stronger.”
ECR co-chair Patryk Jaki struck a sharply different note, attacking the Commission over bureaucracy, energy costs and industrial competitiveness. Europe, he argued, was “as weak as it’s ever been.”
Von der Leyen closed on the central theme running through the speech: European sovereignty in an increasingly hostile world.
“The fate of Europe,” she said, “must remain in the hands of Europeans.”
Ursula von der Leyen is expected to make the case for a more independent and resilient Europe in her State of the European Union address on Wednesday (16 September). But analysts and political groups in the European Parliament are demanding something more concrete: evidence that the Commission can turn its expanding ambitions into results Europeans can see.
The State of the European Union address, commonly known in Brussels as the “SOTEU”, is the Commission president’s annual speech to Parliament setting out priorities for the year ahead. Modeled in part on the US president’s State of the Union address to Congress, the EU version began in 2010 under then Commission president José Manuel Barroso. Von der Leyen will deliver this year’s address at 9:00 tomorrow morning (16 September).
The speech comes as Europe is confronted with an ongoing war in Ukraine, a fragmenting global trading system and the challenge of strengthening defence while reviving competitiveness and financing the green transition. At home, von der Leyen must reconcile political groups that broadly agree on the need for a stronger Europe but differ over what that means.
For Manfred Weber, chairman of von der Leyen’s centre-right European People’s Party group, the focus should be on voters’ economic and security concerns.
“Europe’s priorities must reflect people’s concerns: jobs, the cost of living and economic security,” Weber said. He called for a stronger economy and well-paid jobs, tighter control of Europe’s borders, leadership on AI, continued support for Ukraine and “a strong European defence pillar”.
On the centre-left, Iratxe García Pérez, president of the Socialists and Democrats group, argues that the Commission has relied too heavily on deregulation.
“Europe needs more than announcements,” García Pérez said. “It needs concrete policies backed by the necessary resources.” The S&D wants greater emphasis on affordable food, housing and energy, quality jobs and climate action, alongside European sovereignty in defence and digital technologies.
Renew Europe is also making delivery the benchmark, calling on von der Leyen to present “a credible plan turning European ambition into visible results” and framing the choice as one between united European action and fragmentation.
Analysts at the European Policy Centre see the same challenge extending to Europe’s position in the world.
“Von der Leyen will tell us that the EU is forging new partnerships around the globe,” said Almut Möller, the EPC’s director for European and Global Affairs. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s attendance will reinforce the geopolitical dimension of the speech.
But strategic autonomy goes beyond defence and trade. Georg Riekeles, the EPC’s head of political economy, identifies financial dependence as an overlooked vulnerability. With the international financial system becoming less stable, Europe cannot assume Washington and the US Federal Reserve will play the stabilising role they did in previous crises. Von der Leyen “must therefore address financial sovereignty as a core element of European security”, he argues.
Technology poses another test. Elizabeth Kuiper, the EPC’s head of health and societal resilience, says von der Leyen should “reject the trade-off between competitiveness, technological progress, and the EU’s social model”, particularly as AI affects employment, income security and social cohesion.
Climate policy presents a similar collision between ambition and resources. Stefan Šipka, the EPC’s head of sustainable prosperity, argues that Europe needs “a robust delivery mindset, no more strategies” as it tries to combine defence, decarbonisation and economic security.
The common thread is delivery. Von der Leyen has no shortage of strategic objectives. The harder task on Wednesday will be explaining how they fit together, how Europe will finance them and what takes priority when they conflict.
For EPC policy analyst Eric Maurice, von der Leyen “must provide strategic focus and political clarity”.
“As the midterm in her second term approaches,” Maurice said, “it is time for von der Leyen to present a vision and deliver.”
Instructor at the training ground of the Unmanned Systems Troops (UAVS). | picture alliance / Picvario Media | Sergey Elagin
Europe is rearming. Defence budgets are rising, factories are expanding, and new EU instruments are pouring money into ammunition production and joint procurement. But money is only part of Europe’s defence problems. The main constraint is that its systems remain slow, fragmented and poorly suited to an age when military technology can change in months rather than decades.
Three transformations are hitting the continent at once. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has brought back large-scale war to European soil. Washington’s growing focus on the Indo-Pacific, its renewed interest in Greenland and its push to move NATO from “burden sharing” towards what might be called “burden shifting” mean that Europe will have to provide not only more money for the alliance but also a larger share of its combat power. At the same time, technology is changing warfare faster than traditional procurement systems can keep up.
At present, procurement systems work as follows: a military identifies a requirement; officials draw up specifications; companies compete for a contract and, years later, a system enters service. The problem is that, by then, the technologies shaping the battlefield may have changed dramatically. Promising technologies can become obsolete or fall by the wayside before they ever reach soldiers.
Ukraine has demonstrated a different model. Operational problems generate ideas; engineers turn them into prototypes; soldiers test them; manufacturers improve and scale them; battlefield experience feeds into the next iteration. Technology can also work in the other direction: new capabilities, such as cheap drones, can create tactics that planners had not previously considered.
The real measure of defence-industrial success should not be how many platforms roll off the line, but how fast capability can be imagined, built, tested, industrialised, fielded and adapted again
Europe needs to make this cycle permanent. I propose a model called Adaptive Defence Industrial Ecosystem Management, or ADIEM. The principle is for governments to move from being regulators and buyers to orchestrators of a defence ecosystem that links governments, armed forces, defence and tech companies, start-ups, universities and investors in a continuous loop. The real measure of defence-industrial success should not be how many platforms roll off the line, but how fast capability can be imagined, built, tested, industrialised, fielded and adapted again.
Industrial resilience and human capital are central to this model. Ukraine has shown that sustained operations depend on raw materials, reliable energy, resilient logistics and skilled labour quite as much as on the platforms themselves. And because digital capability now depends as much on software and data engineering as on heavy manufacturing, Europe’s defence sector competes directly with the commercial tech industry for the same scarce talent. This makes the appeal of a defence career a strategic question.
How to make ADIEM work
Reform defence governance. Create permanent structures that bring together military planning, industrial policy, innovation and procurement around shared capability goals. Give them room to depart from standard rules where those rules are the obstacle.
Start with battlefield problems. Build capabilities around what armed forces need to achieve. It works in reverse too: a new system needs a concept of operations written for it before it is bought at scale. Treat these as living documents that evolve with experimentation and real-world lessons.
Make procurement faster and more flexible. Use a hybrid procurement method. While central procurement agencies buy major systems, individual units are allowed to meet certain urgent combat needs. Alongside that, break large procurements into smaller contracts with incremental delivery, allow continuous software updates, use open architecture and speed up certification.
Build a genuine innovation ecosystem. Give start-ups, universities and public labs clear routes to deployment. Reward experimentation and operational relevance over novelty for its own sake.
Achieve affordable mass. Create dedicated programmes for weapon systems that are effective enough, cheap enough to buy in large numbers and simple enough to replace quickly. These include drones, autonomous vehicles, loitering munitions, low-cost intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance (ISR) systems and electronic warfare.
Invest in human capital. Build a long-term pipeline of software engineers, AI specialists, systems engineers and skilled production workers, and change how the sector is perceived—presenting it as a high-technology field, not just a traditional military one.
Institutionalise experimentation. Set up permanent centres where soldiers, engineers, researchers and industry jointly evaluate new operational concepts and technologies. Test continuously rather than only in the run-up to a procurement decision.
Develop digital defence infrastructure. Invest in a sovereign defence cloud, secure data architecture, digital twins and common digital standards.
Governments also need to reform the institutions through which capability is developed, not just the funding lines that feed them. And while Europe has much of what it needs—sophisticated armed forces, world-class manufacturers, strong universities and a growing defence-tech sector—it still lacks a system capable of connecting them quickly enough. That is the purpose of ADIEM: to connect these actors in a continuously adapting ecosystem, with governments acting as orchestrators rather than simply regulators and buyers.
If you are developing technologies that could shape the future of defence, this is your opportunity.
Registrations are now open for the 5th edition of the EUDIS Defence Hackathon, taking place onsite from 15 to 17 October 2026 across eight locations in Europe. Engineers, startups, researchers, developers and defence professionals are invited to join one of Europe's flagship defence innovation initiatives, work on real operational challenges and connect directly with experts, industry leaders and fellow innovators shaping the future of European defence.
This autumn, participants will tackle one of the most pressing topics in defence innovation: Autonomy on the Battlefield. From operating in GNSS-denied environments to enabling autonomous swarms for reconnaissance and logistics, teams will develop practical solutions with real-world relevance. Alongside these two challenges, each host location will also propose a third challenge reflecting regional priorities and expertise.
More than a hackathon
The EUDIS Defence Hackathon is designed for innovators who want to go beyond ideas. Over three intensive onsite days, teams will work side by side with mentors from the defence industry, research organisations and operational environments to develop solutions addressing genuine capability needs.
The onsite format is at the heart of the experience. It gives participants the opportunity to collaborate directly with fellow innovators, engage with defence experts and end-users, and build valuable relationships within Europe's growing defence innovation ecosystem. Whether you are looking for future collaborations, industry insights or your first step into the European defence market, EUDIS is designed to create meaningful connections.
But the experience does not end there.
Winning teams will undergo a Mentoring Programme, a two-month programme offering expert guidance on product development, business strategy and defence market positioning. Participants will also take part in dedicated defence innovation bootcamp, receive support to refine their solutions and have opportunities to pitch their projects to investors and other stakeholders. Together, these activities help accelerate promising ideas while opening the door to Europe's defence innovation ecosystem.
Join a growing European innovation community
Since its launch, the EUDIS Defence Hackathons has brought together more than 2,300 participants through 30 hackathons organised across Europe. Each edition strengthens connections between innovators, industry, investors, defence stakeholders and EU
institutions, creating new opportunities for collaboration and helping innovative technologies move closer to real-world deployment.
The Autumn 2026 edition will take place simultaneously in:
Austria
Cyprus
Ireland
Italy
Latvia
Norway
Portugal
Sweden
Ukrainian participation encouraged
The European Commission actively encourages Ukrainian citizens to participate across all locations, whether as competitors, mentors or jury members. Ukrainian expertise and operational experience continue to play an important role in developing innovative and deployable defence solutions.
How to participate
Registrations are now open for the Autumn 2026 EUDIS Defence Hackathon.
The programme is open to startups, SMEs, engineering teams, researchers and technology professionals from eligible countries who are ready to tackle real operational defence challenges and collaborate with Europe's defence innovation community.
Key dates
Participant registrations: Open now
Hackathon: 15–17 October 2026 (onsite)
Locations: Austria, Cyprus, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Norway, Portugal and Sweden
Interested?
Register today and find full details on the challenges, eligibility criteria and local hackathon locations here.
“This was an attack using military-grade material, carried out by Russian operatives on European Union soil. We will not tolerate it,” von der Leyen said alongside NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte in Brussels.
The German government said on Tuesday (1 September) that its investigation and intelligence findings established Russian responsibility for the attempted attack at Leipzig/Halle Airport last month. Russia has denied responsibility.
The meeting took place as foreign ministers and the EU's High Representative for Common Foreign and Security Policy were meeting to discuss Russia and Ukraine among other issues.
“Had this attack succeeded, this would have resulted in enormous damage and possibly even loss of life,” von der Leyen said. “We stand in full solidarity with Germany.”
“If the intention was to make us think twice about supporting Ukraine, I can tell you it has only strengthened my resolve. Intimidation will not work.”
Von der Leyen said the Leipzig incident was part of a wider pattern of Russian activity confronting Europe, including airspace incursions, drones disrupting airports and interference with critical infrastructure.
“Leipzig marks a new escalation on European Union soil, directly attributed to Russia,” she said.
Von der Leyen outlined three areas for a stepped-up European response: stronger protection of European infrastructure backed by additional sanctions on Russia, increased air-defence support for Ukraine, and an acceleration of Europe’s own defence build-up in close cooperation with NATO.
Infrastructure and sanctions
First, von der Leyen said Europe must strengthen the protection of infrastructure that could be targeted by Russian hybrid operations and be prepared to respond more quickly when attacks occur.
“We must treat our everyday infrastructure as frontline targets, and protect them accordingly,” she said.
The EU already has rapid response teams that can assist member states faced with such attacks, she said, arguing that Europe’s ability to prepare and respond would itself act as a deterrent.
Von der Leyen also said the EU was ready to intensify economic pressure on Moscow through sanctions. “Our sanctions have weakened Russia’s economy. We can use more sanctions and have them ready to impose as soon as such dangerous, life-threatening acts are attributed,” she said. “Every loophole Russia exploits is one we must close.”
European foreign ministers were discussing new listings in Ireland on Wednesday, she said, while the Commission was examining further ways to “cut deeper into Russia’s war chest”.
More air defence for Ukraine
Von der Leyen said her second priority was strengthening support for Ukraine, announcing that the EU had received a new request worth several billion euros for air-defence capabilities.
“Today, I can confirm that we have received a new payment request,” she said. “It is worth several billion euro, and would cover Ukraine’s air defenses, including the highly advanced PAC-3 Patriot air defense systems.”
Member states were considering the request, she said.
“I can say that it’s going in the right direction.”
Von der Leyen also pointed to European work with Ukraine on the FRIO project to develop anti-ballistic missile defences, as well as the EU’s €90 billion support loan.
“Since June, we have issued €8.5 billion for drones and missiles for Ukraine from this loan,” she said, adding that the funding could also be used to buy fighter aircraft from European industry.
Faster European defence build-up
Von der Leyen’s third priority was to accelerate Europe’s defence build-up alongside NATO, with air defence at the centre of the effort.
“Air defenses are critical,” she said. “We need a faster, more integrated alert system across Europe, and then we must intercept the threats faster.”
She pointed to the EU’s €800 billion defence investment plan, including €150 billion through the SAFE instrument, as a way for European countries to increase defence investment jointly.
“We are in a new era of European security,” von der Leyen said. “European investment in defense strengthens NATO and re-energizes our industrial base.”
Rutte backed von der Leyen’s assessment of the threat, saying Russia had become “increasingly reckless” as its war against Ukraine continued.
“We have seen more drones and missiles crossing into our airspace along our eastern flank, creating increased risk,” Rutte said.
“And we have also seen an increase in malign activities targeting our territory directly, whether it is fires set in factories producing defense equipment for Ukraine, or indeed the Russian hybrid attack in Leipzig.”
“The examples are many. The dangers Russia poses are clear,” he added.
Rutte said NATO was working “around the clock” to ensure it could protect its population and said Moscow would fail if it hoped attacks such as Leipzig would undermine Western backing for Kyiv.
“If Russia thinks we will be divided by the threat, or if they think we will be deterred from supporting Ukraine, they are mistaken,” he said. “Our unity is unshaken. Our support to Ukraine is clear.”
Rutte said NATO allies had agreed to provide at least €70 billion to support Ukraine this year and the same amount next year, with the EU loan forming a “crucial element” of that support.
The NATO chief also backed the push for additional air defence and increased defence production, saying higher spending had to translate into additional military capabilities and greater industrial capacity.
Von der Leyen said the EU and NATO would not be intimidated into reducing their support for Ukraine. “Europe and NATO will not just maintain our pressure on Russia; we will increase it,” she said. “We will not stop — not until Russia stops bombing and killing innocent children, men and women in Ukraine. We will continue, we will prevail, and we will deter anyone who attacks our freedom and our security.”
Cover image: picture alliance / Hans Lucas | Martin Bertrand
US secretary of state Marco Rubio described NATO’s July gathering in Ankara, two months before it convened, as “one of the more important leaders’ summits in [its] history.” The summit confirmed that Europeans have accepted America’s expectation that they do more for their own security. The Ankara declaration recognised that “European allies and Canada, working together with the United States, are assuming greater responsibility for the alliance’s defence.” Accepting that shift is one thing; paying for it is another. For European policymakers the question is now fiscal. It turns on what Europe is willing to pay for. And for the EU’s frugal members, that means rethinking what they treat as strategic.
Getting defence into the budget
According to the International Institute for Strategic Studies, replacing US military capabilities in Europe could require around $1tn (about €900bn) in extra investment. NATO’s new target to invest 5% of GDP in defence similarly implies a sustained increase in European defence spending over the coming decade. Together they suggest that defence is no longer crisis spending but a permanent claim on European budgets.
Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the EU has found money for defence, but always as extraordinary spending. The European Defence Fund and SAFE (Security Action for Europe, a loan scheme for joint arms purchases), for example, sit outside the ordinary budget. Such instruments expire; the challenge is to embed this spending into the EU’s regular budget. Winning defence a permanent line in it makes negotiations over the next Multiannual Financial Framework (MFF) far more than another exercise in budgetary bargaining.
The MFF is the EU’s seven-year budget—and where any pledge on defence would have to show up in funds. The commission’s proposal for 2028–34 reflects such a commitment. It allocates €131bn to defence and space, roughly five times the current level, and puts security among the EU’s central priorities.
Out of the negotiating box
Commission proposals rarely emerge intact from negotiation, and early signs suggest this pattern may repeat itself.
Commission proposals rarely emerge intact from negotiation, however, and early signs suggest this pattern may repeat itself. Cyprus, which held the presidency until the end of June, left a negotiating box on how to structure the next MFF that envisioned reductions in defence and security while protecting cohesion policy and the Common Agricultural Policy (CAP). The box is the presidency’s draft compromise, the text the final deal is built from. The Irish presidency has opened with a strong focus on competitiveness and security, but Ireland leans heavily on farming too.
Budget negotiations are shaped by coalitions that defend long-established spending. The 16 member states of the “Friends of Cohesion” group, Spain, Italy and Poland among them, want robust funding for cohesion policy and agriculture, while frugal member states, such as Germany, the Netherlands and Sweden, are reluctant to expand the overall size of the EU budget. Defence enters as a comparative newcomer against policies with decades of institutional backing and organised constituencies behind them.
Germany’s position illustrates this dilemma. In a parliamentary inquiry, Alliance 90/The Greens asked the federal government how the EU can square four things at once: from 2028 it will need to start repaying NextGenerationEU, the €637bn joint borrowing agreed as a one-off in 2020 to fund members’ recovery from covid-19; forgo new revenue of its own (levies it collects directly rather than cheques from national treasuries); hold its budget roughly the same size; and still strengthen competitiveness, security and defence. The chancellor, Friedrich Merz, has repeatedly committed to the last three. The government answered that the EU could meet all three objectives by trimming across the whole budget. Yet such “horizontal cuts” only protect these priorities if all 27 members agree what to spare when deciding the cuts, and they are unlikely to agree. Other member states could favour different areas of the EU budget, cutting competitiveness or security harder than Germany intends.
New financing for a new era
The scale of investment required to deliver Europe’s defence transformation also exceeds what can realistically be financed through the MFF alone. While the seven-year budget can establish political priorities, provide long-term planning certainty and support common capability development, it cannot generate the sums required to finance Europe’s long-term defence.
Hence the appeal of joint EU borrowing: debt raised by the commission against member-state guarantees, the model already used for NextGenerationEU and SAFE. NextGenerationEU demonstrated that the EU can raise substantial resources when confronted with an existential crisis such as the covid-19 pandemic. Europe’s security has changed just as fundamentally, which makes the case for borrowing together just as strong. If defence is a collective problem, leaving the bill to strained national budgets makes little sense. However, borrowing on that scale is politically out of reach: creditor states intend NextGenerationEU to stay an exception rather than a template. Something narrower—bonds (or comparable fiscal mechanisms) that fund defence alone or the technologies Europe cannot do without may prove necessary if the EU wants to match its strategic ambitions with adequate financial resources.
Europe has accepted that it must carry more of its own defence. The MFF negotiations will show whether its budget can pay for it. With NATO entering a new era of European burden-sharing, the EU cannot afford a budget that reflects the priorities of a different geopolitical age. The world has moved on—it is time that frugal member states like Germany did so, too.
Brussels (dpa) – European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen unveiled on Wednesday details on how the European Union is to support Ukraine with 90 billion Euro over the next two years, including 60 billion Euro to bolster the military.
“We all want peace for Ukraine and for that Ukraine must be in a position of strength,” von der Leyen said in Brussels, weeks before the fourth anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
The loan package is to provide “stable and predictable funding” and “reaffirms Europe’s unwavering commitment to the security, the defence and the future prosperity of Ukraine,” von der Leyen said.
Two-thirds of the funds are earmarked for military support.
Ukraine is required to spend the money on Ukrainian and European-built equipment but can acquire weaponry from abroad if the needed equipment is not available in Europe, von der Leyen said.
“With the military assistance, Ukraine can stand strong against Russia and, at the same time, it can integrate more closely into Europe’s defence industrial base,” she said.
The remaining 30 billion Euro is meant to support Kyiv’s budgetary needs but are tied to further reforms in the areas of democracy, rule of law and anti-corruption measures.
The conditions are “to make sure that Ukraine moves forward on its path of accession to the European Union” and are “non-negotiable for any financial support,” the Commission president said.
Von der Leyen said she hopes the first disbursement to Kyiv can be done as early as April, once the European Parliament and capitals have scrutinised the proposal. (14 January)
Cover image: picture alliance / photothek.de | Thomas Trutschel
Summary
The war in Ukraine will eventually end, but probably in a ceasefire that leaves Russia, Europe and America locked in open-ended, low-grade, chaotic confrontation.
Europe has the greatest stake. It is closest to the conflict and would carry much of the cost should it escalate. America will still have an interest in maintaining stability, but other, more pressing priorities will likely come first.
American and European policymakers should keep that confrontation stable enough to prevent it from tipping into another war. They should aim for a state of “managed disorder”, where rivalry continues but becomes less likely to escalate.
They can achieve managed disorder through a staged framework that combines credible deterrence, compartmentalised cooperation and conditional, reversible incentives.
To succeed, the framework will need to accommodate divisions between America and Europe, and within Europe itself. It will also need to give Ukraine, Russia, China and other players in the region clear incentives to comply with the framework, and clear costs for defecting from it.
After the ceasefire
It is 2028. The war in Ukraine ended in an uneasy ceasefire eighteen months ago. Russian forces remain in occupied territories, and Ukrainian forces hold defensive positions, armed with American weapons and European money. The ceasefire talks failed to establish either a buffer zone or an observer mission because the parties could not agree on the terms. Europeans have given vaguely formulated “security guarantees” with an ill-defined American backstop, but NATO has no clear presence near the contact line.
One morning, Ukrainian intelligence detects Russian armoured movements towards the ceasefire line. The government in Kyiv claims Russia is preparing for invasion; officials in Moscow insist it is routine repositioning. Within 48 hours, shooting starts and each side blames the other. Russian forces cross the ceasefire line at three points. Calls go out to European capitals and Washington, but no one agrees on what the intelligence shows. The security guarantors reach for the ceasefire documents and find they say different things depending on who is reading them.
Nobody knows what to do—whether NATO should respond militarily, whether European states should act alone, or whether America, focused since 2027 on a series of interventions in Latin America, should engage at all. Nobody has agreed what the rules are, what triggers intervention, what constitutes a proportionate response or who decides.
The outcome of this scenario is chaos and escalation driven by uncertainty and domestic political pressure. These are the conditions that precede catastrophic wars. The goal of this paper is to help prevent that scenario or, more precisely, to ensure clear answers exist before the shooting starts. The post-war environment in Europe will be unstable in the near term and perhaps for a generation or more because the war will almost certainly end without a genuine peace settlement that resolves key questions of sovereignty, security, power or identity. The wounds are too deep and the sides too evenly matched to agree on a comprehensive peace.
This is not an unusual situation after inconclusive wars. To adapt the historian Michael Howard’s insight, the end of fighting does not itself create peace. Between war and peace lies a large and dangerous space of armistices, frozen conflicts and unstable political settlements. The task for American and European policymakers will be to build enough structure around that dangerous space to prevent it from producing the next war.
America and Europe can do this by transitioning from chaotic confrontation with Russia to “managed disorder”: a state in which rivalry remains, but becomes less vulnerable to accident, panic and domestic political pressure.
To achieve this state of managed disorder, this paper proposes a staged framework built on verification, certification and conditional incentives. The framework would temporarily freeze facts on the ground, but not legitimise them, and give the main actors reason to adhere to agreements. This would help American and European policymakers maintain stability in Europe, defend Ukraine and deter further revisionism while reducing the risk of escalation. It would also give Russia a sense of safety and a seat at the table to discuss European security. Hostility would persist but it would be channelled into rules, limitations and predictable behaviour.
Managed disorder does not imply legitimising territorial conquest or rewarding aggression. It also falls well short of a durable settlement. Importantly, it does not require “trust”, a commodity that is generally lacking in international affairs and particularly in relations with Russia.
However, building such a system will be politically hard. Russia may prefer chaos to managed disorder. Ukraine may reject any arrangement that appears to freeze partition. European states will disagree over deterrence, sanctions, reconstruction, enlargement and engagement with Moscow, and the US may remain indispensable but unreliable. But these are not objections to managed disorder; they are the reasons it is needed. Its purpose is precisely to manage these political pressures through rules, incentives and procedures before a crisis makes improvisation the only option.
This paper traces the hard road to the modest achievement of managed disorder. It first outlines the sources of disorder after the war in Ukraine and why the key players might find managed disorder preferable to the alternatives. It then describes a staged plan to get from a ceasefire in Ukraine to a hopeful but realistic stability. The plan accepts that the future is contingent and will certainly surprise us. It therefore seeks to adapt to circumstances even as it keeps in mind where we want to go and what we want to avoid.
The sources of post-war disorder
The war in Ukraine is likely to leave relations between Russia, Europe and the United States in significant disorder. A ceasefire, armistice or exhausted pause in the fighting would stop large-scale violence but not settle the question of sovereignty over contested territories. Russian forces will probably remain on Ukrainian territory while Ukraine continues to assert its territorial integrity. Europe will still face a revisionist Russia on its borders and the United States will still have to decide how much of European security it intends to underwrite.
This state of affairs will be the first source of disorder. The ceasefire will probably not resolve any of the geopolitical ambiguity. It will also likely fail to clarify what counts as a violation or establish who monitors the ceasefire, who enforces it and who decides when one side has broken it. This is the central danger of the post-war moment. Although major combat may be absent, every movement of forces, artillery exchange, drone incident, act of sabotage and political crisis in Kyiv or Moscow could result in renewed escalation.
The second source of disorder lie within the West itself. America and Europe will not enter this period as a single strategic actor, even though they will retain important common interests—both will want to prevent a wider war, avoid nuclear escalation and stop Russia from conquering Ukraine outright. For the US, Russia will remain a nuclear power and a disruptive actor, but no longer the organising threat of American strategy. Washington will increasingly focus on China, the Western Hemisphere and the fiscal costs of global leadership. Europe will have no such luxury. Russia will stay a nearby military threat, and Ukraine’s reconstruction will become a European problem. Any failure of deterrence will unfold on Europe’s doorstep.
This divergence means that the Atlantic alliance will become less automatic, even if it does not collapse. The US may remain essential for nuclear deterrence, intelligence, sanctions enforcement and crisis diplomacy with Moscow, but it may also grow less willing to sustain Ukraine’s conventional defence, less patient with European divisions and more tempted by bilateral understandings with Russia that promise quick gains or theatrical success. Europe will fear both American abandonment and American freelancing. It will need Washington to work towards managed disorder, but will no longer be able to count on it to take the lead.
Europe will also generate disorder of its own. The war has produced a rhetorical consensus—Ukraine must survive and Europe must do more for its own defence—that hides deep disagreements. Poland, Sweden and other eastern and northern states will judge any post-war arrangement through the lens of deterrence, vulnerability and Russian deception. Spain, Italy and others will place more weight on stability, fiscal pressures and eventual economic normalisation with Russia. Some governments, such as those in the Baltics, will want to accelerate Ukraine’s integration into the EU and the European defence economy. Yet others, like Poland, will worry that Ukraine’s accession—and its agricultural exports, corruption, security needs—could transform the bloc in ways it cannot control.
These divisions will shape security policy and domestic debates. Russia will try to exploit them. Any post-war arrangement must therefore manage Europe as much as it manages Russia. It must prevent European disunity from becoming an instrument of Russian strategy.
Ukraine itself will form a further source of disorder. It will depend on American and European weapons and money for years after the fighting stops—creating leverage but also resentment. If Ukraine concludes that a post-war order locks in partition while offering only vague promises of future integration, it may resist the whole idea. If Europe concludes that Ukraine is using its support to pursue military aims that Europe cannot sustain, European commitment may fracture. This arrangement, therefore, cannot simply constrain Ukraine. It must give Ukraine a visible future: a defensible state, deepening European integration, reconstruction and a credible non-military path to eventual territorial restoration.
Russia will create the most obvious source of disorder, but not necessarily through renewed invasion. Moscow may accept a ceasefire because it believes time is on its side. It may calculate that Ukraine will become politically divided, that European publics will tire, that American attention will wander and that sanctions will erode. It may use the pause in fighting to rebuild forces, probe American and European resolve, influence European politics and normalise its gains—all while formally conceding nothing. A ceasefire may therefore mark not the end of Russian revisionism, but its movement into a different register.
American and European policymakers should not assume Russia fears disorder the way they do. Disorder may serve Russian purposes. Ambiguity can help Moscow test thresholds. For instance, hybrid operations impose costs on the West while preserving deniability. Political interference can weaken European unity without triggering a military response. For America and Europe, deterring a second invasion of Ukraine may well be the easier task; the harder one will be to curb Russia’s appetite for exploiting turbulence around Europe’s borders.
The post-war order will also face regional spillover. Ukraine will remain the epicentre of the confrontation with Russia, but Moldova, the Black Sea and the Arctic could face intensified coercion too. Africa and the Middle East may offer Russia opportunities to punish Europe indirectly through migration, mercenary activity, energy disruption or political leverage. A system that manages only the line of contact in Ukraine will not contain all of the disorder stemming from the conflict.
China will add another layer of complexity. Its economic weight can cushion Russia from Western pressure, but Beijing’s interest in stability also constrains Moscow’s options.
The final source of disorder will come from the absence of accepted leaders. During the cold war, the US claimed and largely exercised the role of Western leader. That world will not return. Europe cannot yet replace America: the EU cannot speak with the speed or unity of a state. NATO can deter, but it cannot resolve every political dispute a bad ceasefire creates. Individual European leaders may speak to officials in Moscow, Washington or Kyiv, but none can credibly represent the whole continent. In that vacuum, others will try to manage the disorder: private envoys, Gulf intermediaries, business figures, transactional American negotiators or ad hoc coalitions formed in crisis. Without rules, the system will fill with middlemen.
These sources of disorder will keep producing flashpoints that risk a return to war. Maintaining stability in post-conflict Europe will take conscious, active management. A comprehensive settlement to the Russia question remains out of reach for now, so the aim should be to prevent a bad and incomplete peace from decaying into a more dangerous confrontation.
The incentives that will shape a settlement
Managed disorder will hold together only as long as its incentives do. America and Europe, Ukraine, Russia, Turkey and China each bring different interests, so the system of managed disorder must align incompatible motives around a limited common interest: avoiding a return to uncontrolled war.
Ukraine is the hinge
Stabilising and strengthening Ukraine is the foundation of the entire system. For that, Ukraine must want to comply with it rather than be forced to because it needs American and European money and weapons to rebuild itself and deter Russia. The benefits need to be tangible and politically defensible at home. Therefore, in addition to sustained military aid, joint defence production and reconstruction funding, a stable system must offer Ukraine a path into the EU and a credible route to recovering lost territory without renewed fighting. Ukraine will not abide by the rules of managed disorder if it experiences it only as a restraint on its actions rather than as a route to a stronger Ukrainian state.
The main part of that route goes through EU membership. Europe should tie the pace of Ukraine’s accession—market access, regulatory alignment, reconstruction funding—to its conduct within this system. Cooperation opens the door; obstruction closes it. No Ukrainian government can afford to turn its back on a European future.
That pull is real, but it has limits. EU membership is economic and political; the bloc’s mutual-assistance clause, Article 42.7, carries none of NATO’s integrated command structure or binding defence commitments. However, Ukrainian officials under domestic pressure may present accession as delivering that protection anyway, leaving the public expecting a NATO-style military response that Article 42.7 was never built to provide. Any actual security guarantee will need its own separate instrument with defined triggers, scope and decision-making process.
In any case, Ukraine will benefit more from sustained American and European military aid, joint defence production and a homegrown arms industry than from any ambiguous or unenforceable security guarantee. The country will need artillery, air defence, drones and the factories to build them for decades to come. But offensive or long-range systems—capable of striking deep into Russian territory—should come from Western allies only if Russia attacks again, keeping the line between defending Ukraine and arming it for renewed war visible to Moscow and to sceptical Western publics.
Ukraine’s own expanding arms industry will blur that line. Washington and European capitals can condition their weapons transfers, but they cannot control what Ukraine builds. To manage disorder, therefore, they should tie reconstruction, defence-industrial cooperation and military assistance to rules about defensive posture and escalation.
The territorial question needs careful handling. A settlement must preserve Ukraine’s claim to the occupied lands—legally, politically and morally. Refusing to recognise Russia’s conquests should remain a core principle. But America and Europe must be honest too: Ukraine cannot retake its territory by force. Restoration will come through Ukrainian resilience, European integration, legal non-recognition, diplomacy and long-term shifts in the balance of power—not a bet on a better war later. Ukraine can keep hoping for its territory back without believing that another war is the way to get it.
Coalition dynamics will shape compliance with managed disorder too. Poland, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia—Ukraine’s strongest backers—will have to be part of any difficult trade-offs. If these countries can support a compromise, Ukrainian leaders can argue that managed disorder strengthens Ukraine rather than abandons it, and western European governments can show that restraint does not mean appeasement. If they oppose it, critics in Kyiv and across Europe will portray the arrangement as a deal made over Ukraine’s head and at the expense of Europe’s most vulnerable states. In that case, neither Ukrainian nor European leaders could easily sell compliance at home.
In the end, Western policymakers must design Ukraine’s decision space, not just hope it will make the right decisions. They must show that cooperation deliversEU integration, reconstruction, military assistance, long-term deterrence and a path to restoring territory by weakening Russia over time—West Germany pulled off exactly that with the East, decades later. Obstruction delivers economic stagnation, dwindling aid, isolation and an indefinite war footing with nothing to show for it. The goal is to make cooperation the rational, defensible choice for any government in Kyiv.
Russia’s calculations
This paper does not assume that Moscow wants peace or even managed disorder. The only assumption is that a ceasefire would reveal some Russian interest in pausing large-scale war. The task is to exploit that pause to make restraint more attractive to Moscow than going back to war.
The logic is structured choice. Russia should know exactly what it gets for playing by the rules and what it loses for breaking them. If Russia complies, the rewards should be tangible—for instance, sanctions relief is immediate but reversible. If Russia violates the rules, the costs should be just as immediate—for example, suspended sanctions snap back automatically.
Military realities can reinforce this logic. The war has cost Russia dearly in soldiers, equipment, ammunition and political attention. Yet Russian weakness should not lull the US and Europe into assuming that Moscow’s appetite for aggression has diminished. Russia’s calculation will change only if Ukraine, armed by Europe, can defend itself. A second full-scale invasion would offer no easy win. Russia would confront a better-prepared Ukraine, a more fortified eastern flank and a Western sanctions system built to escalate rather than merely restore previous penalties.
Economic incentives can also matter, though they will not by themselves drive Russian policy. The Kremlin has shown it will sacrifice prosperity for war and ideology. But Russians value access to markets, targeted relief and the ability to travel, which shape interests inside the system, especially once the immediate demands of wartime mobilisation recede. Sanctions can thus create constituencies for restraint. Relief should remain selective, staged and reversible. It should reward observable behaviour, not political promises. And it should be designed so that renewed escalation hurts the specific people and networks that benefit from playing along.
None of this guarantees Russian cooperation. Moscow may still conclude that exploitable disorder serves it better than regulated confrontation, particularly if it can strike a bilateral understanding with Washington over Europe’s head. Western policymakers should therefore expect Russian violations and aim to narrow Russia’s room to exploit ambiguity.
Moscow does not need to like managed disorder to live with it. It only needs to face a world in which restraint brings some gains and cheating brings higher costs. Of course, the Russian government has not always responded to such incentives. No amount of pressure guarantees good behaviour. All any arrangement can do is make every alternative worse.
Turkey as a partner
Turkey belongs in this system because the Black Sea cannot be managed without it. Ankara controls access to the Black Sea through the Bosphorus and Dardanelles Straits, has direct interests in maritime security and commerce, and has maintained working channels with both Russia and Ukraine throughout the war. Any post-war arrangement that touches naval access, grain routes, energy transport, Russian warship movements, or the security of Ukraine’s southern coast will require Turkish participation. Ankara can either reinforce the framework or complicate it. Managed disorder should therefore treat Turkey as a necessary regional partner.
China in the background
The other major power shaping Russia’s future options is China. The two are not formal allies, but their partnership is more than a marriage of convenience. Russia needs Chinafor markets, technology, diplomatic cover and long-term economic resilience. Moscow’s options depend as much on what Beijing will tolerate as on what Washington and European capitals will permit.
China need not endorse managed disorder for its interests to tacitly reinforce it. Beijing benefits from a stable Russia that checks American and European power, but not from a Russia that collapses or continually destabilises Europe. Endless war raises energy prices, invites secondary sanctions and risks escalation that could disrupt China’s own growth and global positioning. A structured post-war settlement that freezes borders, channels competition and conditions economic reintegration offers China predictability without forcing political alignment. If American and European sanctions tie relief to Russian conduct and penalises circumvention, Beijing may find it cheaper to let the system work than to help Russia rearm—provided the system leaves Russia viable as a geopolitical ally for China and a source of natural resources.
Economic interests pull in the same direction. Beijing values access to European markets and reconstruction opportunities in Ukraine. Western leaders should therefore make clear that stability unlocks better China-Europe economic ties, while a collapse of managed disorder would push Europe toward militarisation, protectionism and tighter technological coordination with the United States. China can benefit from this arrangement without choosing between Europe and Russia, so long as it prefers predictability and stability to escalation and sanctions spirals.
Managed disorder also needs a China clause. If Russia uses China to rearm and restock its munitions, the consequences cannot fall on Moscow alone. Europe should tighten its China policy, deepen coordination with America and target Chinese firms enabling violations with economic pressure. China must understand that helping Russia evade these rules costs Beijing more than it benefits it, while tolerating stability keeps the door to European markets open.
In this sense, China is neither an adversary nor an essential partner, but a structural constraint that can reinforce, undermine or passively enable whatever security order emerges in Europe. A system that links market access to stability, invites selective Chinese participation and penalises circumvention turns Beijing, intentionally or not, into a stakeholder in restraint.
The path to managed disorder
How the war in Ukraine ends will go a long way towards deciding the path to managed disorder. A fully disarmed or “neutralised” Ukraine is unacceptable to Kyiv and unsustainable for Europe. A permanently offensive Ukraine capable of striking deep into Russian territory would risk escalation and be unacceptable to Moscow. The same would be true if Ukraine were to host Western troops.
Between these poles lies the most workable model: a defensible, resilient Ukraine that is armed to deter, but not configured for offensive operations. This “steel porcupine” posture follows the same logic as cold war West Germany: strong enough to make conquest costly but not positioned as a launchpad for offensive war. It separates Ukraine’s legal and political claim to territorial restoration from the military means that could reignite the war, without conceding Russia’s territorial gains.
Europe is likely to bear long-term responsibility for Ukraine’s rebuilding, military assistance and eventual integration into European institutions. Even a supportive United States may commit fewer resources over time. A framework for managed disorder must ensure that Europe can sustain Ukrainian security on its own if America steps back, while leaving room for deeper US involvement should political conditions allow.
To reach that state, American and European policymakers will need to work amid mistrust, division and partial compliance. They must create a system in which Ukrainian restraint earns visible progress, and Russian violations bring consequences and compliance rewards. Importantly, they should also ensure European disagreement does not become paralysis and American involvement strengthens the system without owning it.
Designing around a divided West
Washington and European capitals share core interests yet diverge in priorities, attention and risk tolerance. The challenge will be to design a system that can operate with those differences built in.
America
A future American administration, whether populist or merely pragmatic, is likely to approach Russia as a file to manage rather than a sustained strategic priority beyond its nuclear dimension. To the extent it figures in US strategic calculations, Russia is more likely to be seen as part of America’s larger competition with China. Commitments to European security that once seemed permanent will depend on electoral cycles and budgetary politics.
That is why managed disorder should rely on European initiative and pre-agreed processes rather than sustained American focus: durability must be built into the mechanism itself, not assumed from Washington’s resolve.
Europe
European nations will see the landscape through a nearer lens. Russia is not a distant power but a neighbour capable of altering borders by force. European governments agree that Ukraine must survive yet disagree on what survival means: integrated or merely defended, heavily armed or cautiously defensible, anchored fully to Europe or held at strategic arm’s length. Populist and anti-migrant parties are often averse to sustained defence expenditure and will sometimes be open to friendly relations with Russia.
Given the European disagreements and the American focus on China, a genuine transatlantic consensus on a post-war order is unlikely to emerge. What is achievable and necessary is interoperability: a structure in which Europe and the US can act together when aligned and continue functioning when they are not. A framework to achieve managed disorder will therefore need to do two things. First, its stages, tracks and certification mechanisms should be designed to keep working whether or not Washington and European capitals are pulling in the same direction. Second, it should be designed for a permanently divided Europe. Its purpose should be to prevent disagreement from becoming paralysis.
That means creating aEuropean core group: a few countries that can negotiate sanctions positions, military support thresholds, monitoring standards and responses to Russian violations before each crisis arrives. It should include the countries with the greatest military weight, financial capacity and geographic exposure—France, Germany, Poland and the UK, as well as the Nordic and Baltic states. The core group should drive the security logic; EU institutions should anchor the economic, sanctions, enlargement and legitimacy logic.
How to stop Russia from setting the security debate
Russia will seek to widen any post-war process beyond the line of contact in Ukraine. It will want to discuss NATO enlargement, American and Western European basing, missile deployments, military exercises, the Black Sea and the military balance along its western frontier. Europe and the US should expect these demands, but they should neither dismiss them reflexively nor accept them on Russia’s terms. Some issues do raise genuine risks of miscalculation between Russia and NATO. Large military exercises near borders, missile deployments, ambiguous troop movements, air and naval incidents, cyber operations against critical infrastructure and uncontrolled activity in the Black Sea can create crises regardless of the justice of the underlying political claims.
To stop Russia from setting the terms of the debate, European leaders should pursue two distinct negotiations. The first would revolve around the ceasefire and subsequent security arrangement in Ukraine, and must preserve Ukraine as a principal actor. The second concerns the wider Russia-Europe security environment and must prevent either Moscow or Washington from treating Europe as an object of negotiation. Russia will try to conflate the two tracks so that it can use NATO-Russia talks to extract constraints on Ukraine or claim that whatever Kyiv gives up, the West gave up too. European policymakers should resist this and keep the two discussions separate, though separation also has risks: if either track collapses, the other will suffer because both tracks are needed to ensure regional security. The first maintains immediate stability along the line of contact between Russia and Ukraine; the second tackles the wider geopolitics.
Russia will prefer to discuss regional security with America rather than with Europe. It will try to cast Europe as the object of negotiation, not a participant in it. If the American leadership is distracted by other priorities or tempted by bilateral deals with Moscow, it might even support that Russian position. The answer for Europe is to define the terms of engagement with Russia in advance, with frontline states fully involved and with clear limits on what can and cannot be negotiated.
To do that, Europeans need the core group to define common positions before the United States and Russia enter any serious dialogue. European leaders cannot prevent every American side channel with Moscow, but they can limit the damage by insisting in advance on the principles that should govern any regional security conversation. These might include no recognition of territorial conquest, no Russian veto over its neighbours’ alliance decisions, no limits on Ukraine’s sovereign choices and no economic relief without behavioural restraint.
This regional security agenda will make many European leaders uncomfortable. Frontline states will fear that any discussion of basing, exercises, missiles or notification requirements gives Moscow a path back to influence over their security. They have reason to worry. Russia has used previous security conversations to claim rights over its neighbours. It has, for example, consistently used the indivisible security clause of the 1999 Charter for European Security to assert that it has the right to deny its neighbours membership in Western security organisations such as NATO. Despite this record, to exclude regional security from the framework would leave Moscow free to raise it bilaterally with Washington or exploit it during crises.
Regional security therefore is one of the central tests of managed disorder. If the US and Europe refuse to discuss it at all, Russia will use the refusal to justify probing, escalating and direct talks with America over Europe’s head. If they discuss it on Moscow’s terms, it will legitimise coercion and weaken the states most exposed to its power. The only viable course lies between those failures: to create a framework that channels Russian security demands into reciprocal, verifiable and limited mechanisms.
A framework for managed disorder
Every actor has reason to tolerate managed disorder over the alternatives, but tolerance does not sustain itself; it has to be built into rules. Managed disorder therefore rests on at least three mutually reinforcing principles:
Separate where necessary:Europe should first reduce its exposure to Russia with stronger defences and less dependence on Russian energy. Ukraine should tie itself economically more closely to Europe and be able to hold its ground militarily. Effective deterrence is a precondition for any dialogue.
Compartmentalise where you can:Certain issues—nuclear risk, Arctic exploitation, climate change and counter-proliferation—are in everyone’s interest to manage together. Even Russia wants to avoid, say, nuclear war or environmental collapse. The parties should fence such issues off from more neuralgic ones, such as Ukrainian sovereignty, to prevent crises from cascading into areas of mutual benefit. Cooperation here is a limited and mutually beneficial transaction, not the embryo of a broader relationship.
Make engagement conditional: Russia should earn sanctions relief, diplomatic reintegration and economic access by meeting specific, verifiable benchmarks. These rewards should be reversible and calibrated, so that, for Russia, compliance pays and violations are costly. This system does not require faith—just working mechanisms.
Within these pillars, Europe can emphasise defensive resilience and sanctions, while America manages nuclear and global issues. Both are compatible with the same architecture, if properly sequenced.
The stages of managed disorder
Managed disorder will not arrive by some grand bargain. It must grow semi-organically from whatever unsatisfactory deal ends the Ukraine conflict. Progress will be uneven and contingent: each stage will require stability in the previous one and give Russia incentives to value restraint over escalation. Optimistically, it will take years to move from ceasefire management to durable rules, and probably a decade or more before habits, institutions and political constituencies for restraint begin to take root. The framework will thus also need to “fail well” in the sense that Ukraine and Europe need to be able to bounce back if there is a setback.
The sequencing below shows how war-termination mechanisms can become stabilisation tools, then arms-control practice, then institutions. This is deliberate. America and Europe should commit openly to this trajectory, making clear that progress depends on Russia sticking to core principles. Even so, however technical the criteria for moving from one stage to the next may look, all the parties will accept progress only if their domestic politics allow it.
Stage 0: Secure a ceasefire (prerequisite)
A ceasefire, negotiated principally between Ukraine and Russia, is the prerequisite for everything that follows. It would be good if that ceasefire laid the groundwork for a more stable peace, but experience suggests that it will only nod in that direction and leave much unsaid. In the end, the purpose of a ceasefire is to stop the shooting rather than to ensure permanent peace. In Ukraine, that would be an accomplishment in itself and would at least open the door to the more sustainable process outlined below.
Stage 1: Freeze the status quo (~years 0-2 after ceasefire)
The first phase is about preventing a return to large-scale violence, preserving Ukraine’s survival and creating minimum conditions for a wider managed confrontation. It should embed the principle that behaviour has consequences. Monitoring and verification should come first—they enable later agreements by normalising inspections, data exchanges and the idea of measurable compliance. Those, in turn, provide the basis for rewarding Russian restraint.
This phase should establish baseline rules and mechanisms.
Military movements
No renewed large-scale offensive action.
No forcible changes to a clearly delineated line of control.
No systematic attacks on European critical infrastructure.
No escalatory hybrid campaign against EU or NATO states.
Restrictions on long-range missiles and strike platforms near the line of contact.
The goal is to contain friction along the line of control and normalise external verification so that incidents do not spiral.
Communication and monitoring
Humanitarian corridors and prisoner-of-war exchanges as first channels of dialogue.
A Russian-Ukrainian military hotline with protocols for reporting ceasefire violations, troop movements, drone incidents and humanitarian emergencies.
A joint or tripartite monitoring mechanism, potentially with UN endorsement even if not UN-staffed.
Monitoring in this phase should not be confused with Western intelligence assessments. A ceasefire mechanism needs visible procedures that both Russia and Ukraine can invoke when incidents occur. The American and European governments will also rely on classified intelligence, satellite imagery and Ukrainian reporting to assess whether Russia is preparing to attack again, but Russia need not accept those assessments for America and Europe to act on them. The two systems serve different purposes: the ceasefire mechanism manages incidents and referees disputes; intelligence assessments guide deterrence and enforcement.
Administrative
A process for property claims, compensation and occupied-territory inventories.
Property claims will likely be one of the war’s most politically corrosive legacies. The framework must acknowledge them early, even if it cannot resolve them. Ukrainians have lost homes, businesses and land in occupied territories. Russian state assets and other linked private assets are frozen or seized across Europe. European nationals, companies and institutions have outstanding claims from pre-war investments. Left unaddressed, these grievances will curdle into domestic pressure against any government trying to sustain the framework. Experience from other post-conflict settlements suggests that unresolved property claims only get harder to settle and easier for spoilers to exploit the longer they sit.
This stage should therefore set up a dedicated arbitration channel for property claims, compensation and an inventory of assets in occupied territories. It should give affected populations a visible, legitimate process they can trust to address their claims eventually, even if immediate restitution is impossible. Otherwise, these issues become structural weaknesses that Russia, populist parties or affected lobbies can later exploit to fracture European cohesion.
No formal milestone marks the end of Stage 1—readiness to advance is a practical judgement. Triggers for progression to the next stage could include six to twelve months without major violations, inspectors consistently granted access or functioning communication demonstrated during minor incidents.
Stage 2: Stabilise the front (~years 2-4)
Once violence subsides, the next task is to keep it that way. This requires partial demilitarisation and transparency along the Ukraine-Russia and NATO-Russia contact lines. The logic resembles the earliest cold war confidence-building measures: small, technical arrangements that reduce risk without requiring political alignment.
Two tracks
Stage 2 creates, as noted, the two parallel negotiation tracks with Russia: one on the Ukraine-Russia contact line, Track A, and the other on NATO-Russia, Track B. Progress or failure in one track should have no bearing on the other, and the scope of Track B explicitly excludes Ukraine’s sovereign choices. Ukraine should be consulted before any Track B arrangement that materially affects its security. It should have no veto over NATO decisions, but it should not be treated as an object of them either.
The purpose of the negotiations would be to make the signs towards confrontation easier to read. Russia should be able to tell which US and European actions reflect routine deterrence from those signalling preparation for escalation, just as America and Europe need a clear read on which Russian moves stay within declared force posture and which mark renewed aggression. Ukraine, in turn, should know what kinds of Russian movements will trigger US and European responses—and frontline European states should trust that de-escalation measures will not come at their expense. The framework seeks to reduce the danger that military ambiguity becomes political panic.
Transparency measures and limits on destabilising deployments would increase predictability without weakening deterrence. The test is practical: a measure belongs in the framework if it reduces miscalculation while preserving the ability to defend Ukraine and NATO territory.
Examples of measures for each track include:
Track A—Contact line management (Ukraine-Russia, Western-facilitated)
Reduced-force and weapon-limited zones on both sides of the line of contact.
Restrictions on long-range strike systems or designated platforms near the line.
Direct communication channels between local Ukrainian and Russian commanders, with agreed protocols for use during incidents.
On-the-ground monitoring and inspection access, potentially with neutral observers.
Verified pullbacks of heavy artillery or long-range systems from designated exclusion belts.
Track B—NATO-Russia military transparency (NATO-led, Ukraine consulted)
Advance notification of exercises above a defined unit size along NATO’s eastern flank.
Hotlines between NATO and Russian military commands with agreed rules of use.
Observer arrangements for major exercises under agreed formats.
Early data exchange on force levels and positions where this increases predictability without weakening deterrence.
Technology-enabled transparency—such as satellite imagery, opensource intelligence aggregation, pattern detection—to support rather than replace agreed notification and inspection procedures.
A restart of American-Russian strategic stability talks.
Crisis channels
Stage 2 should also expand crisis communications into separate channels, each with a limited purpose. A Ukraine-Russia channel should manage incidents along the line of contact. Exercises, air and naval encounters, forward deployments and missile notifications would run through a separate NATO-Russia military channel. A political channel—bringing together the European core group, the US, Ukraine and Russia—should handle cases that risk triggering sanctions snapback or military escalation. And the Black Sea requires a fourth channel, covering naval movements, commercial shipping, mine clearance, port access and other maritime incidents, with Turkey centrally involved.
The Black Sea requires special attention. Ukraine’s security depends on its land frontier as much as it does on Odesa—the country’s principal port and the conduit for the bulk of its grain exports, without which Ukraine would be cut off from global maritime trade. Turkey’s control of the Black Sea and its diplomatic channels to both Moscow and Kyiv make it indispensable here.
These channels should be linked by notification rules but should not be merged into a single negotiation. Their value lies precisely in compartmentalisation: failure in one channel should not bring down the rest.
Overall, these measures create predictability rather than normality. The metrics are practical: fewer surprises, lower risk of misinterpretation, calmer borders. Communication at the tactical level buys stability at the strategic one. The aim of the monitoring is to make suspicious behaviour visible enough, early enough that American and European governments can respond before ambiguity becomes paralysis.
Informal progression to Stage 3 could follow after 9–18 months of ceasefire compliance, a functioning inspection regime or verified pullbacks of heavy artillery or long-range systems from designated exclusion belts.
Stage 3: Manage deterrence (~years 4-7)
If stabilisation holds, America and Europe should shift their focus from military capability to deterrence. The relationship with Russia may remain adversarial, but it must be clear why and, within limits, predictable.
This stage should distinguish rearmament from deployment. At first, it should leave Europe, Ukraine and Russia to rebuild their armed forces. Capping rearmament outright would be unpopular, difficult to verify and potentially damaging to deterrence. The early aim is narrower: to curb the most destabilising forms of rearmament by regulating where forces are placed, how movements are notified, which exercises require observers, which long-range systems create escalation risks and what kinds of external assistance to Russia would trigger penalties. In short, managed disorder should allow rearmament but make it less surprising, less offensive in posture and less likely to spark a crisis.
Hybrid activity is a harder problem because Moscow has made it part of its regional strategy. Disinformation and cyberattacks cannot be managed through traditional arms control. The US and Europe cannot negotiate a clean cyber or hybrid non-aggression pact with Russia, but they can set conditions for participation in a wider framework. Russia cannot stop the drone war in Ukraine while continuing an infrastructure war across Europe and still expect sanctions relief and cooperation. A reduction in major hybrid attacks should become part of the price of entry into the framework.
This will require clear thresholds. Not every disinformation campaign warrants a crisis response, and not every cyber incident will carry a signature that all governments accept. But hybrid attacks on critical infrastructure, electoral processes, or political figures should carry consequences when evidence reaches agreed standards. The US and Europe should create a certification process that assesses such activity and links it to sanctions, diplomatic access and the pace of wider engagement. Attribution will remain contested, but the absence of perfect attribution cannot excuse permanent grey-zone coercion.
Both sets of rules—on rearmament and on hybrid activity—belong to the same emerging arms-control agenda, which could include:
Geographically bounded force ceilings near Ukraine and NATO’s eastern flank.
Reciprocal notification of major troop movements and exercises.
Observer access to certain drills under agreed formats.
A dialogue on missile deployments and dual-use systems, initially without formal treaties.
Additional transparency measures for storage or deployment locations of sensitive weapons.
Agreed thresholds for major hybrid activity, including sabotage of critical infrastructure, coercive migration operations, cyber operations against essential services and attacks on defence production, linked to certification and penalties rather than formal arms-control limits.
The US would lead this part because of nuclear considerations, while Europe anchors the conventional posture. Russia may well test boundaries, so deterrence must remain credible. But even imperfect predictability is safer than total opacity.
Triggers for informal progression to the next stage could include routine functioning of transparency mechanisms, no large undisclosed deployments near the line or political space inside EU and US capitals for conditional economic measures.
Cooperation in limited areas can help keep the wider framework from collapsing. Even after a ceasefire in Ukraine, Russia will still be able to destabilise Europe indirectly through hybrid operations within European borders and its wider neighbourhood. A managed framework will therefore need to go beyond Ukraine without assuming that cooperation in one domain signals goodwill or leads to broader reconciliation.
The purpose of functional cooperation is twofold. First, it can give Russia limited, visible benefits from predictable behaviour. Moscow values status, access and the recognition that it is an indispensable interlocutor. Carefully chosen cooperation channels can provide these at relatively low cost, provided they remain conditional and reversible. Second, such channels can reduce Russia’s incentive to use theatres outside Europe as pressure points. If Russia gains a stake in, say, Arctic safety, it may have more to lose from turning it into a battlefield.
The US and Europe should choose these areas carefully. Cooperation should start soon after a ceasefire wherever interests overlap. It can include humanitarian and economic essentials—fertiliser and food exports, prisoner-of-war exchanges—alongside maritime and safety measures such as Black Sea commercial shipping and nuclear safety. The early purpose is to improve people’s safety and daily lives rather than to preserve the peace. If the framework holds, functional cooperation can institutionalise and spread into two further clusters: maritime and Arctic cooperation, such as search-and-rescue and maritime deconfliction; and technical safety cooperation, such as space debris monitoring, counter-proliferation and climate and environmental data exchange.
The Arctic presents a distinct challenge. Before the war, it was one of the few spaces where Russia, America and Europe cooperated despite wider tensions, but that cooperation has since collapsed. Finland and Sweden’s accession to NATO, Russia’s militarisation of the High North, competition over energy and shipping routes, and Chinese interest in Arctic access have turned the region into a sharper theatre of rivalry. A functional Arctic track could help prevent accidents, manage search-and-rescue obligations, preserve basic environmental data exchange, and reduce the risk that military incidents in the High North spill into wider confrontation.
Functional cooperation could also help manage the Black Sea, building on the channel already established in Stage 2. The aim should be to cut the risk that a naval incident spirals into a wider escalation.
These channels should also serve as tests of Russian behaviour. Russia cannot expect cooperation in the Arctic while sabotaging European energy infrastructure, or maritime deconfliction while strangling Ukraine’s economy in the Black Sea. Functional cooperation should therefore rest on a spoiler clause: major destabilisation in one domain should cut benefits in others, though minor incidents, such as temporary denial of port access, should not automatically break compartmentalised cooperation. The point is to preserve communication during confrontation, but without allowing these channels to become sanctuaries for Russian bad behaviour. A standing certification mechanism should assess whether Russian actions remain compatible with continued participation; major violations, such as sabotage of critical infrastructure or using mercenary forces to destabilise European interests abroad, should trigger wider consequences.
Functional silos can also discipline European divisions by allowing limited contact with Russia where it serves security, while preventing that contact from becoming a general political thaw. This distinction lets hardline states accept narrow, security-driven engagement without conceding that Russia has been forgiven, while allowing more accommodating states to engage practically without waiting for a broader reconciliation that may never come. Silos also give European publics a clear rationale: certain risks require communication even among enemies.
The task for the bilateral re-engagement is to prevent unconditional normalisation by channelling it: bilateral contacts should be registered, reported to the core group where security-relevant and subject to spoiler clauses. Left unmanaged, bilateral contacts could become the pathway through which sanctions erode and Europe fragments.
China may play a limited role in this stage in areas where its interests—Arctic access, nuclear stability, maritime trade—align with predictability. Beijing will understand that stability preserves the economic access it values; Russian defection narrows it.
After a sustained period of compliance, the framework should offer Russia visible but reversible dividends for restraint: expanded diplomatic channels, ministerial-level meetings, greater facilitation of agricultural and fertiliser exports, enhanced participation in Black Sea or nuclear-safety mechanisms, and broader bilateral contacts. The aim is to show that restraint changes the terms of engagement.
The trigger for the next stage might be two to four years of stable front lines, deterrence and transparency mechanisms working as intended, and proof that narrow cooperation holds without spilling over or being exploited.
If earlier stages mature and survive disruptions, an institutional architecture can begin to consolidate. Many elements may start earlier but will take shape over the long term. Institutionalisation marks a recognition that competition must be permanently managed. This day may never arrive, but it matters as an aspiration. Comparable cold war institutions took 25 years or more to emerge. For example, the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe (CSCE) was launched in the early 1970s but it only became a standing institution, the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), in 1995.
Potential forms for institutions include:
A US-Europe-Russia Risk Reduction Commission meeting at ministerial and military-to-military levels.
A modular arms-control instrument replacing parts of the Conventional Armed Forces in Europe and Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces frameworks, eventually bringing in other countries—notably China.
A dual-track diplomatic structure: Washington–Moscow for nuclear or global issues; Europe–Moscow for regional security and Ukraine arrangements.
A standing crisis-management protocol with predefined escalation control steps.
An institutional layer consolidating the crisis channels of earlier stages, created through standing bodies, regularised military contacts and agreed evidentiary standards.
This stage is ambitious, uncertain and far off. It would require political durability inside Russia, Ukraine, the US and Europe. But it should remain visible as the horizon. The framework must offer a picture of a stable destination even if the road there is long.
The path to stability runs through this framework; it structures a rivalry that will continue whether we prepare for it or not. The logic is incremental: ceasefire enables monitoring, monitoring enables transparency, transparency enables limits, limits enable rules, rules enable institutions. Each step must be earned through behaviour, not granted on faith. None of this works, however, if Europe cannot act as one.
How to overcome division paralysis in Europe
European cohesion will require a system that stops any single state from vetoing responses that the group has already agreed. The model should borrow from the Iran nuclear deal of 2015: participating states determine upfront what counts as a violation and what counts as a compliance milestone. Those criteria, once set, cannot be revised downward. The states most exposed to Russian pressure would write their red lines into the rules before the politics of the moment can erode them. A standing committee of the participating states then decides by qualified majority whether Russia has met a given criterion. If it has, the agreed reward or penalty follows automatically—unless a majority votes to block it.
This process flips the usual logic. The current system requires consensus to impose a snapback or advance a tranche of sanctions relief; the new one will require consensus to waive either. A hypothetical pro-Russian Hungarian or Slovak government seeking to delay consequences will need to openly vote to do so and bear public responsibility for that choice, rather than block it quietly through procedural abstention. Similarly, a frontline state such as Poland or a Baltic country will need to find a majority to block rewards once Russia demonstrably meets an agreed milestone. Frontline states appear to lose power here, but their red lines have already been written into the rules.
Spelling out in advance which consequences are appropriate for a breach would also help keep Europe united: cautious states will not tolerate escalation over every minor incident, and hawkish ones will not tolerate impunity for major violations. Proportionality will keep both cautious and hawkish states invested in the framework, rather than defecting to national responses. A three-tier system would make this balance work: minor procedural breaches might suspend talks or freeze a tranche of sanctions relief; material violations—such as denial of inspection access—may trigger limited snapback; major ones, such as attacks on defence production, should trigger full enforcement. This governance mechanism is only part of what will enable Europe to act cohesively within the framework; practical principles must also operate across every stage, beginning with crisis communication.
Operating rules
Several rules should apply throughout the framework. Managed disorder cannot rest on hopeful assumptions about Russian restraint or rationality. The framework must treat future violations as probable and place the burden on Russia to prove it is complying, not on America or Europe to show that it is not. In practice, that means adopting a presumption-of-violation approach: if, say, Russia denies inspectors access to a missile site, the refusal counts as a breach and triggers penalties. Sanctions relief, military deployments and cooperation channels continue only when Russia’s behaviour is visible and verifiable. If Moscow wants the benefits of a more predictable relationship, it must make compliance easy to see.
Crisis communication should begin from the outset. In a post-war environment, contact matters more than cooperation. Channels should allow the parties to clarify incidents and prevent local violence from escalating. These channels should be compartmentalised—for example, a line-of-contact mechanism should not depend on progress in NATO-Russia talks—so no single crisis can consume the whole framework.
Technology can help in this process, but monitoring cannot depend on it alone. Surveillance, satellite imagery, financial tracking, customs data, open-source intelligence and AI-assisted pattern detection can all improve visibility. But they cannot substitute for political judgment, agreed evidentiary standards and negotiated consequences.
In all stages, sanctions relief should be tied to periodic certification rather than ad hoc diplomacy. The certification mechanism described above—which includes the EU, the US, Ukraine and relevant European core group states—should govern the pace of sanctions relief, the triggering of snapback provisions, and the determination of whether conditions for stage progression have been met. It cannot eliminate political discretion, as that is impossible, but it can narrow it by defining operational and measurable criteria as precisely as possible. If Russia blocks inspections, moves forces without notification, conducts major hybrid attacks or violates agreed military limits, the default should be suspension or reversal of relief unless participating governments decide otherwise.
Why the alternatives are worse
Managed disorder will make no one happy. It will not deliver justice for Ukraine, reconciliation with Russia, strategic autonomy for Europe, or a restored US-European consensus on Russia. It will leave many questions unresolved and many grievances intact. But the relevant comparison is not with an ideal peace that cannot exist. The relevant comparison is with the conceivable alternatives. All of them are worse than managed disorder.
The alternatives below are ideal types. Few policymakers advocate for any of them in pure form. But examining each in isolation reveals why none can resolve the underlying problem and why mixing them without a governing framework tends to magnify their worst features.
The first alternative is regime change in Moscow. Many Europeans and Americans have concluded that no stable order with Russia can exist while Vladimir Putin or a Putinist system remains in power—a view with real force, given how central revisionism, militarism and hostility to the West have become to the current government’s legitimacy. But as a strategy, regime change offers no credible path from the world we inhabit to the world we want. Neither the US nor Europe can engineer a liberal transition in Moscow or build a European security order on the assumption that Russia will soon become a different country. Nor can they rely on sanctions, battlefield losses or elite discontent to produce a more palatable successor. A Russia after Putin could become less aggressive, but it could also become more nationalist, more chaotic or more determined to prove that the war was not lost.
The second alternative is permanent isolation. This approach would contain Russia through sanctions, diplomatic exclusion and military pressure. It has obvious appeal. Russia should pay a lasting price for aggression. But isolation alone will not manage the next phase. Sanctions will erode without a political strategy. European governments will divide over costs and enforcement. China, Turkey, the Gulf states and others will create channels around US and European pressure. Russia will adapt and wait for fatigue in the US and Europe. Permanent isolation may punish Russia, but it will not by itself create rules for regional security or Ukraine’s defence.
The third alternative is normalisation. This approach would treat a ceasefire as the end of the problem and move quickly toward restored diplomatic channels, trade and a wider European conversation with Moscow. Some governments and firms will want this as soon as large-scale fighting stops. They will argue that Europe needs stability to recover and a way to stop Russia from becoming still more dependent on China. Some engagement with Moscow will eventually prove necessary. But normalisation without conditions would reward aggression without securing restraint. It would tell Russia that conquest brings only a temporary crisis followed by eventual reintegration. It would weaken Ukraine, divide Europe and invite Moscow to test whether another round of coercion might yield another round of concessions. Engagement has value only when it forms part of a structure of leverage. Without that structure, it becomes appeasement by exhaustion.
The fourth alternative is unmanaged confrontation. This outcome is the most likely default because it requires no decision. Europe and America would continue to arm Ukraine unevenly, maintain sanctions haphazardly, talk to Russia episodically and respond to crises as they arise. NATO would reinforce some areas, neglect others and debate deployments after Russia tests them, leaving Ukraine dependent yet insecure. Russia, meanwhile, would keep probing European defences with hybrid tactics, even as Washington cuts its own deals with Moscow. European governments might denounce such freelancing while failing to offer a coherent alternative. In this world, rivalry persists and even grows, and no one sets the rules.
Unmanaged confrontation gives Russia more ambiguity to exploit, gives the United States more room to improvise over Europe’s head, and hands European governments more opportunities to defect from common positions. It also leaves Ukraine with less clarity about what the US and Europe will support and what they will not. Every crisis becomes a test of will, credibility and domestic politics. The result would not be principled firmness. It would be recurrent improvisation under pressure.
These alternatives also share a deeper flaw. Each assumes that one element of the problem can solve the whole: Russian transformation, Russian isolation, Russian reintegration or Western toughness. None can. The post-war confrontation will require deterrence and dialogue, punishment and incentives, European unity and coalitions of the willing, Ukrainian agency, American involvement and European hedging. Any strategy that chooses only one side of these tensions will collapse when reality supplies the other.
An operating system for a bad peace
If this trajectory does not take hold, the alternative is easy to imagine because it resembles the past decade: a ceasefire that freezes rather than manages the conflict, Russia regrouping and probing again when the balance shifts, Europe tiring under sanctions and domestic cost, the US distracted and inconsistent, and Ukraine trapped in recurrent wars. In such a world, escalation would be governed by crises rather than rules, and could arrive suddenly, triggered by accident, misunderstanding or opportunity.
America and Europe cannot choose a world without Russia, nor can they wish away their own disunity. But both Europeans and Americans can choose whether to confront Russia through chaos or through structure. Managed disorder is a strategy for containing escalation, preserving Ukrainian sovereignty, limiting Russian coercion and ensuring that rivalry remains predictable rather than world-ending.
The path forward begins in Ukraine. If policymakers treat war termination as the end of the problem, they will fail to respond to broader Russian concerns and leave Europe vulnerable to the next Russian offensive. If they instead treat war termination as the opening phase of a long process, they can shape the incentives and capacities that will govern the next decade.
A structured adversarial framework, rooted in credible deterrence and bounded by conditional cooperation, is the best available foundation. Managed disorder is not permanent peace, reconciliation or a just settlement. It is an operating system for a bad peace.
About the authors
Jeremy Shapiro is the research director of the European Council on Foreign Relations. His areas of focus include US foreign policy and transatlantic relations.
Samuel Charap is Distinguished Chair in Russia and Eurasia Policy and a senior political scientist at RAND. His research interests include the foreign policies of Russia and the former Soviet states; European and Eurasian regional security; and US-Russia deterrence, strategic stability and arms control.
Bob Deen is the General Director of the Netherlands Institute for International Relations “Clingendael” and specialises in matters of European security, with a focus on Eastern Europe, the Caucasus and Central Asia. Before joining Clingendael in 2020, he worked as Head of Section and Senior Adviser to the OSCE High Commissioner on National Minorities.
Hiski Haukkala is the director of the Finnish Institute of International Affairs. He is also an adjunct professor of international relations at Tampere University and a senior research associate at RAND Europe. He is the author of numerous books and articles on EU foreign policy, Russia and International Relations.
Ivan Krastev is chair of the Centre for Liberal Strategies, Sofia, and a permanent fellow at the Institute for Human Sciences, Vienna. He is the author of “Is It Tomorrow Yet? Paradoxes of the Pandemic”, among many other publications.
Hanna Notte is the director of the Eurasia programme at the James Martin Center for Nonproliferation Studies. Based in Berlin, she has written extensively about Russian foreign policy and is the author of We Shall Outlast Them: Putin’s Global Campaign to Defeat the West (W. W. Norton & Co).
Jim O’Brien is a distinguished visiting fellow at the European Council on Foreign Relations. He previously served as Assistant Secretary of State for European and Eurasian Affairs in the Biden administration.
Acknowledgments
This paper is the collaborative product of a working group that met several times over the course of more than a year, comprising the authors above and Michael Kimmage of the Kennan Institute. Jeremy Shapiro took the pen on this paper, but the working group shaped, debated and contributed to it in essential ways. All of the members of the working group except Michael Kimmage fully endorse the paper.
The authors would also like to thank Kat Fytatzi for her patient and incisive editing. Kat’s editing was painful, but in exactly the right way. Nastassia Zenovich applied her usual genius for the graphical representation of extremely verbal ideas to a paper that badly needed it. She has our eternal gratitude. We’d also like to thank the Andrew Carnegie Foundation for the funding and patience that made this project possible.
For the second July running, a controversial decision from President Volodymyr Zelensky has sparked protests across Ukraine. Last year it was his attempt to weaken two anti-corruption bodies. This time it is the dismissal of his popular young defence minister, Mykhailo Fedorov, after just six months on the job. Zelensky cited a breakdown of relations between the ministry of defence and the military leadership as a key reason for his decision.
Fedorov was blunter. In a scathing statement, he criticised the commander-in-chief of the armed forces Oleksandr Syrsky for choosing loyalty over performance, sticking to outdated ways of war fighting, and sabotaging necessary reforms. “Instead of working out how to asymmetrically defeat Russia”, Fedorov said, “[Syrsky] has worked out how to split the country.” Such internal strife is the last thing Ukraine needs. But Fedorov’s allegations also call into question whether Western military assistance for Kyiv is being used in the best possible way.
The solution
Zelensky has proposed Yevhen Khmara to replace Fedorov, subject to approval by parliament. Khmara is a respected military commander and the acting head of Ukraine’s security service, so has credentials as a military leader. But Ukraine’s parliament must also decide whether he can be a trustworthy manager in the job.
This is, of course, Ukraine’s sovereign decision to make. But it is a consequential one for the rest of Europe, too: at the end of the second quarter, defence accounted for roughly 80% of Ukraine’s annual budget, with almost a third of this coming from external partners (who also supply a lot of the country’s civilian needs). The EU and European countries are by far Kyiv’s biggest financial and miliary backers. And how these funds are spent matters for Ukraine’s success; as does whether its military strategy, supplies, recruitment and procurement are aligned. The resources also need to be used efficiently. Fedorov’s allegations thus deserve proper scrutiny.
Ukraine’s European partners should not back any one choice of new defence minister. But they should make clear that, whether it is Khmara or somebody else, Fedorov’s replacement must be a credible, competent and trusted partner. This means he or she should be proven as a commander, but also be able to continue Ukraine’s defence reforms and address problems related to mobilisation, relations with the military, and corruption in the sector. Fedorov’s replacement should also be committed to continuing to build up the country’s defence technology base.
Context
Before he became defence minister in January 2026, Fedorov headed Ukraine’s digital governance revolution. He transferred his tech-savviness to the ministry of defence and is widely credited with Ukraine’s recent advances in defence technology which helped turn the tide against Russia. Several military commanders have defended Fedorov’s work as defence minister and supported his claims against Syrskyi; others in the military have spoken in favour of the commander.
In his statement, Fedorov remained loyal to Zelensky but rumours about the outgoing official’s political ambitions have been circulating for weeks. Whether there is any truth in them or not, protesters see this as a motivation behind the president’s reshuffle. And the views of the public matter. Ukraine’s defence is a whole-of-society affair, partly sustained by volunteers and the private sector. So, Zelensky will need to dispel these rumours—a country at war can hardly afford to make decisions based on political preference at the expense of competence or defence logic.
The onus is now on Zelensky to convince everyone that Khmara is the man for the job. While parliament approved a new government led by Sergy Koretsky on July 15th, this did not include the names of the president’s (constitutionally required) proposals for defence and foreign ministers. Barring an extraordinary session, MPs will only reconvene in mid-August. This means they have time to reflect and engage in a dialogue. This should result in a defence minister who commands not just the president’s trust but also that of the military, society—and international partners.
This week, Mark Leonard welcomes Camille Grand, secretary general of ASD Europe and special adviser to ECFR’s European Security programme, and Marta Prochwicz Jazowska, deputy head of ECFR’s Warsaw office and policy fellow, to discuss what the outcome of the NATO summit in Ankara means for Europe’s security. They draw on ECFR’s recent policy brief “Making defence European again” to assess whether the alliance has emerged stronger—or simply avoided a crisis.
European leaders left Ankara relieved that US president Donald Trump has reaffirmed US support for NATO and avoided announcing major troop withdrawals, but fundamental questions about Washington’s long-term commitment remain unresolved. Mark, Camille and Marta explore how Europe can strengthen its own defence capabilities while maintaining NATO as the cornerstone of collective security.
Can Europe build the military capabilities it still lacks? How should responsibilities be divided between NATO, the EU and smaller coalitions of willing states? What would a more credible European nuclear deterrent look like? And can Europe strengthen its own defence without weakening the transatlantic alliance?
This podcast episode was recorded on July 9th 2026.
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