Spanish arms manufacturer General Dynamics European Land Systems-Santa Barbara Sistemas (GDELS-SBS) is supplying Latvia with infantry fighting vehicles fitted with Israeli-made turrets, despite Madrid’s arms embargo on Israel, Globes reported on 15 October.
The deliveries cast doubt on the reach of Spain’s 2025 arms embargo on Israel, imposed in response to Israel’s genocide in Gaza, which bans the import and export of military equipment, products, and technology to and from Israel.
Yet the ban has not stopped Israeli weapons systems from being mounted on Spanish-made combat vehicles for sale to third countries.
Latvia has ordered 84 Mednieks combat vehicles, each mounted with a UT30 MK2 unmanned turret built by lead Israeli weapons manufacturer Elbit Systems, under a contract worth roughly $929 million, with deliveries set to continue until 2029.
Latvian Defense Minister Raivis Melnis hailed the first delivery as a step toward strengthening the country’s defense and its cooperation with NATO partners, as members scramble to meet the US’s demand for greater contribution to the alliance.
Elbit had already secured a deal worth around $100 million in April 2025 to supply GDELS-SBS with the unmanned turrets, months before Madrid declared its embargo, with the Israeli firm stating that the systems were bound for an unnamed European NATO member.
SBS was state-owned until the early 2000s, when it was privatized and sold to US arms giant General Dynamics.
According to Globes, General Dynamics’ presence in Europe greatly helps Israel push its weapons, military components, and technology into the continent, owing to the close ties between the US and Israel.
In early 2026, Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez’s government came under fire for weighing the purchase of military systems from a company partly owned by Israeli arms giant Rafael, even as it pledged to achieve “zero technological dependence” on Israel.
The arrangement illustrates how Israeli arms firms continue to embed components in European weapons programs through multinational manufacturers, even where governments have restricted direct trade with Israel.
Elbit has benefited from surging demand linked to Israel’s war on Gaza and wider regional conflict, reporting a record $32 billion order backlog as of 30 June 2026.
Europe drove most of the backlog growth in the second quarter of 2026, the company said, with roughly 73 percent of its orders now coming from buyers outside Israel.
British counter-terrorism police are investigating a security breach at RAF Molesworth in Cambridgeshire after two Latvian nationals were found inside the military installation. The arrests come amid heightened security concerns following a separate suspected terrorist plot targeting RAF Fairford, which prompted the withdrawal of American bombers.
Two Latvian nationals have been arrested in Britain on suspicion of entering a restricted military installation for purposes potentially harmful to national security. The men were discovered inside RAF Molesworth, a sensitive military facility in Cambridgeshire that houses American and NATO intelligence operations, during the early hours of Thursday, 8 October.
The suspects, aged 36 and 32, are both Latvian citizens residing in the United Kingdom. According to an official statement issued by the Metropolitan Police, they were initially detained on suspicion of trespassing and criminal damage before being arrested under the National Security Act 2023.
The incident follows a separate investigation into a suspected terrorist plot near RAF Fairford in Gloucestershire, where American strategic bombers had been deployed. British counter-terrorism officers have emphasised that there is currently no evidence connecting the two cases.
Security breach discovered during routine patrol
The investigation began at approximately 10pm on Wednesday, 7 October, when Ministry of Defence Police officers patrolling RAF Molesworth discovered an abandoned vehicle near the installation’s perimeter.
Officers from Cambridgeshire Constabulary joined the search and subsequently identified a small breach in the security fence. At approximately 2am on Thursday, the two men were located inside the restricted area and taken into custody.
The suspects were initially questioned over alleged trespassing and criminal damage. However, investigators subsequently invoked Section 4 of the National Security Act 2023, which covers entering, approaching or inspecting prohibited locations for purposes prejudicial to Britain’s safety or interests.
The legislation carries a maximum sentence of 14 years’ imprisonment upon conviction. Neither man has been publicly identified, and police have not disclosed evidence establishing their alleged intentions or any connection with a foreign intelligence service.
Officers have also searched two addresses in the Peterborough area. The abandoned vehicle was recovered and examined by specialist explosive ordnance disposal personnel after concerns arose during initial inspections.
As a precaution, police established a cordon affecting roads around Glatton, including part of the A1. Specialists subsequently found nothing of concern, allowing the restrictions to be lifted.
Intelligence facility serving American and NATO operations
RAF Molesworth is not an ordinary operational airfield. Although designated as a Royal Air Force station, the installation accommodates intelligence facilities supporting American military operations and NATO.
Among the organisations associated with the site is the NATO Intelligence Fusion Centre, which contributes to intelligence collection, assessment and information-sharing between allied military authorities. The installation also supports American military intelligence activities relating to operations in Europe and Africa.
The presence of these facilities makes Molesworth a sensitive location, where unauthorised access raises questions extending beyond conventional trespassing. Investigators will seek to establish how the men entered the compound, why they were there and whether they attempted to approach or examine restricted equipment or infrastructure.
Separate investigation at RAF Fairford
The arrests come less than two weeks after British police detained seven men in connection with a suspected terrorist plot involving RAF Fairford, another British installation used by the United States Air Force.
The Fairford investigation began on 27 September after suspicious activity was reported near the base. Police subsequently investigated possible offences involving explosives and preparations for terrorist acts. Those arrested in connection with that investigation have since been released on bail.
The incident was followed by the withdrawal of American bombers from Fairford. President Donald Trump subsequently referred to security threats affecting the installation, raising further questions about the protection of American military assets stationed in Britain.
Commander Helen Flanagan, head of Counter Terrorism Policing London, which is leading the Molesworth investigation, cautioned against drawing conclusions about the relationship between the two cases.
She said investigators had found nothing so far suggesting a connection with the Fairford incident and were continuing to examine possible motives.
British authorities have not publicly identified a foreign state or organisation as being responsible for the Molesworth breach.
The two Latvian nationals remain in police custody while investigators continue examining the circumstances surrounding their presence at the installation. The inquiry involves Counter Terrorism Policing, the Ministry of Defence Police and Cambridgeshire Constabulary.
The investigation is taking place against a wider background of security concerns involving European military facilities. Latvia itself reported an armed border provocation and sabotage of surveillance infrastructure near Belarus earlier this week, although there is no evidence linking that incident to the arrests in Britain.
For British investigators, the immediate task remains establishing whether the Molesworth intrusion was an isolated security breach or involved an intention to compromise military operations or intelligence infrastructure.
Three armed men accompanying at least 20 migrants from Belarus threatened Latvian soldiers and attempted to force the group across the frontier, according to Latvia’s National Armed Forces.
Hours later, masked intruders crossed into Latvia, damaged an electrical distribution unit and stole surveillance cameras before retreating into Belarus.
Latvia has reported an unusually aggressive incident on its border with Belarus in which armed, masked men threatened Latvian troops during an attempted migrant crossing, followed several hours later by an incursion targeting surveillance infrastructure.
Several hours later, masked individuals crossed from Belarus into Latvian territory and targeted equipment used to monitor the border. Interior Minister Jānis Dombrava said they damaged an electrical distribution cabinet and removed surveillance cameras before returning across the frontier ahead of the arrival of a Latvian border-guard unit. Latvian authorities have not publicly identified the intruders or established whether all of those involved in the second incident were the same men who had earlier accompanied the migrants.
Dombrava described the events as markedly more aggressive than previous episodes on the frontier. He warned that Belarus should understand that incidents of this kind could have “more serious consequences” for the country.
The episode comes amid sustained pressure on Latvia’s 172km border with Belarus. According to the Latvian State Border Guard’s latest figures, 21 people were prevented from crossing illegally from Belarus on Tuesday, taking the total number stopped at that frontier since the beginning of 2026 to 11,946.
Latvia has for several years treated irregular migration from Belarus not simply as an immigration issue but as a security operation. Riga accuses the Belarusian authorities of deliberately facilitating migrant movements towards the EU border as a means of exerting political pressure.
In January, the Latvian National Armed Forces published what it described as evidence of Belarusian state involvement in organising illegal crossings. The military said documented cases included migrants being transported in Belarusian military vehicles and Belarusian officials participating in operations to direct people towards Latvia. That earlier material does not, however, establish the identities or affiliation of those involved in this week’s armed confrontation.
Pressure on the frontier intensified during the summer. In July, Latvian soldiers used tear gas and fired a warning shot when a group attempting to enter from Belarus refused orders to withdraw and, according to Latvian authorities, threw logs towards security personnel.
The methods used to circumvent the fortified border have also become more elaborate. In August, border guards found Latvia’s first known tunnel used for an illegal crossing from Belarus after intercepting 15 people near Skrudaliena. A second tunnel was discovered nine days later near Krāslava after another 28 people crossed the frontier. The State Border Guard said both incidents formed part of the continuing pressure on Latvia’s eastern border.
Riga responded in August by launching Operation VILKATIS, bringing together border guards, police and the armed forces under a co-ordinated security operation. Surveillance drones and other military capabilities have been deployed to reinforce monitoring of the frontier.
On Tuesday, the same day Latvian authorities disclosed the latest confrontation, the government extended Operation VILKATIS until 31 December. The Cabinet described the instrumentalisation of migration by Belarus as a hybrid threat and said additional resources would continue to be used along the eastern border.
The involvement of armed escorts changes the immediate security calculation for Latvian personnel. Previous incidents have largely centred on migrants, smugglers and attempts to bypass physical barriers. This week’s episode included direct threats against serving soldiers, followed by an unauthorised crossing and deliberate interference with border-monitoring equipment.
Latvia has not publicly attributed the operation to a particular Belarusian military, security or border agency. The account released by Riga therefore establishes an armed incident originating from Belarusian territory, but not yet who ordered or organised it. For Latvia, however, it adds another element to a border that is already being managed as part of the country’s wider response to hybrid threats on NATO and the EU’s eastern flank.
Russia might not have directly interfered in Latvia’s election, but the vote still showed how the Ukraine war was distorting European democracy.
Latvia’s VDD intelligence service did not detect any of Russia’s classic interference tactics in the run-up to Saturday’s (3 October) vote, such as a spike in disinformation, vote buying, or a manufactured security scare.
The centre-right prime minister Andris Kulbergs retained power with 35.8 percent of the vote, even if coalition-building might take a while.
And voters’ concerns included the cost of living and failing healthcare, in what also sounded normal.
But despite the ordinary appearances, Russia’s war in Ukraine still influenced the election in fundamental ways, in a strange new normal for Europe that most of us had hardly imagined just five years ago.
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Six million people. That is the total combined population of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania—fewer residents than live in greater London. Yet these three border states now set the tone of foreign policy for a union of 450 million, telling Berlin, Rome, and Madrid how dangerous the world is and how much Western taxpayers must pay to fix it.
One Crown to Another
The Baltic national story likes to skip 1721, which is a shame, because it’s where the modern map starts. That year Peter the Great finished the Great Northern War with the Treaty of Nystad. Sweden handed over Estonia, Livonia, Ingria and part of Karelia; Russia evacuated most of Finland and paid Sweden two million silver thalers. Historians still argue about what the money was for. Western reference works tend to call it compensation, while the Russian Presidential Library’s account says flatly that Russia paid it for the acquisitions. Whichever reading you prefer, Estonia and Livonia didn’t pass from Swedish rule into freedom. They passed from one crown to another. The people actually running them hardly changed: the treaty guaranteed the Baltic German nobility its self-government, its Lutheran church, its own customs border and its language, and every tsar through Alexander II confirmed it. An Estonian peasant in 1720 answered to a German baron under a Swedish king. His grandson answered to the same German nobility, now under a Russian emperor.
Lithuania got there differently, as half of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, absorbed in the partitions. Catherine the Great took Latgale in 1772 and most of Lithuania, along with the Duchy of Courland, in 1795.
The point isn’t the borders; plenty of European states are young. The point is the story. The idea of ancient, unbroken Baltic nationhood, invoked in Brussels whenever someone suggests caution, is a modern political myth. Independent statehood lasted about twenty years between the wars. The current stretch began in 1990–91.
Not One Inch
The next chapter opens in Moscow on 9 February 1990. The Berlin Wall had been down for three months. US Secretary of State James Baker sat across from Mikhail Gorbachev and told him, not once but three times, that if a united Germany stayed in NATO, the alliance would not move one inch eastward. Helmut Kohl said much the same the next day. It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. Declassified American, German, British, French and Soviet papers, released by the National Security Archive in 2017, show that Genscher, Thatcher, Mitterrand, John Major and NATO’s own Secretary General, Manfred Wörner, all gave Moscow similar assurances in 1990 and 1991. None of it went into a treaty.
That turned out to be very convenient. In 1990 NATO had 16 members. In 1999 it took in Poland, Hungary and the Czech Republic. In 2004 it swallowed seven more countries in one go, among them Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, three former Soviet republics. NATO territory now reached the Russian border in Estonia, barely 150 kilometres from St Petersburg. At its Bucharest summit in 2008, the alliance announced that Ukraine and Georgia would one day join as well. Finland and Sweden followed after 2022. Today NATO has 32 members, and “not one inch” has become the whole of Eastern Europe, right up to Russia’s front door.
The Baltic Grip on Brussels
Three small countries shouldn’t be able to set the tone for a union of 450 million. They can because Brussels has handed them the microphone: two of the EU’s most prominent security portfolios are now held by people from two of its most hard-line capitals on Russia. Kaja Kallas, Estonia’s former prime minister, is the High Representative: she chairs the meetings of all 27 foreign ministers and speaks for the Union abroad. Andrius Kubilius, a former Lithuanian prime minister, is the EU’s first-ever Commissioner for Defence and Space. No voter anywhere in Europe chose either of them for those jobs.
Kallas comes from a family that has always been close to power, whoever held it. Her father went from Communist Party official in Soviet Estonia to Reform Party founder to EU Commissioner: what Germans call a “Wendehals”, a turncoat. In May 2024, weeks before her nomination, she said a Russian defeat would not be a bad thing and remarked that Russia is made up of many nations. Germany’s Volksstimme read it as floating Russia’s break-up, an odd thing for Europe’s next top diplomat to muse about a nuclear power. Over both of them sits Ursula von der Leyen, whom EU leaders produced at the last minute in 2019 and Parliament confirmed with 383 votes, nine more than she needed. She arrived from the German defence ministry, where she’d left behind a Bundeswehr failing its readiness targets and a parliamentary inquiry into consultancy contracts.
Barking on Command
It would flatter the Baltic governments to think they run the show. They don’t. They bark because it suits the people holding the leash. In Brussels, home to the headquarters of both the EU and NATO, the big capitals write the policies. The Baltic capitals enforce them at the border, say the things Berlin and Paris would rather not say out loud, and take the first swing. That is why the EU’s diplomatic megaphone went to Tallinn and its defence portfolio to Vilnius. Nobody appointed Kallas and Kubilius to calm things down.
Kaliningrad in 2022 showed how it works. Brussels drew up sanctions on Russian steel; Lithuania enforced them to the letter and halted rail shipments to the exclave in June. Moscow called it a blockade, and Nikolai Patrushev, then head of Russia’s Security Council, warned that Lithuanians would feel the consequences. Within a month the Commission issued new guidance letting the goods through again. Vilnius had done exactly what it was told, and was left standing alone in front of Moscow while Brussels quietly backed away.
Three years later it was Estonia’s turn. Brussels had spent months announcing crackdowns on Russia’s “shadow fleet” of ageing, poorly insured tankers. On 13 May 2025 the Estonian navy tried to stop one of them, the Jaguar, in international waters off Tallinn. The crew ignored the orders and sailed on to the Russian port of Primorsk. Estonia said a Russian Su-35 then entered its airspace for about a minute with its transponder off, and NATO scrambled a fighter to meet it: a Portuguese F-16, from a country 3,000 kilometres away. Nobody fired, this time.
Meanwhile the big dogs are being moved into position behind the small ones. In 2023 Berlin pledged a full armoured brigade for Lithuania, about 4,800 soldiers, at a new base at Rūdninkai near the Belarusian border. It formally began operating in 2025 and is due at full strength by 2027. It is the first permanent deployment of German troops abroad since the Second World War.
European Values, Baltic Edition
After 1991, Latvia and Estonia gave automatic citizenship only to pre-1940 citizens and their descendants. Hundreds of thousands of Soviet-era residents, most of them Russian speakers and many born in the country, became “non-citizens” with alien passports and no vote in national elections. Riga insists that “non-citizen” is a legal status, not an ethnic label, yet about two-thirds of Latvia’s non-citizens are ethnic Russians. UN and OSCE bodies criticized the system for years. At the start of 2026, non-citizens were still 8.7% of Latvia’s population, by the Latvian government’s own figures.
It has got tighter since 2022, not looser. Schools in Latvia have moved to Latvian-only teaching and Estonia’s are following. Latvia told Russian citizens with permanent residence, many of whom had lived there for decades, to pass a basic Latvian test or risk losing that status. And on 26 March 2025 Estonia’s parliament voted 93 to 7 to amend the constitution so that only Estonian and EU citizens can vote in local elections. On paper it covers all non-EU nationals. In practice it was aimed at about 80,000 Russian citizens, plus Belarusians, and everyone knew it. Stateless “grey passport” holders were given one last local election, in October 2025, before losing their vote as well.
It’s hard to take a lecture on European values from governments that treat their own long-term residents this way.
Who Pays the Bill
Vilnius loves to talk in percentages, because percentages flatter small countries. Lithuania pledged 5% of GDP for defense in 2026 before Donald Trump had even made his 5% demand in January 2025, and its 2026 budget comes in at 5.38%. In May 2025 the three Baltic defence ministers told every ally to match it. In June, at The Hague, NATO made 5% its target for 2035.
Forget the percentages. Look at the money. Lithuania’s entire 2026 defense budget is €4.79 billion. At 5% of its economy, Germany would be spending more than €200 billion a year, over forty times as much. Even the core 3.5%, before the extra 1.5% for infrastructure and other defence-related spending, would come to around €150 billion. For Italy the full target would mean more than €100 billion a year, for Spain around €80 billion, and both are already carrying some of the heaviest public debt in Europe. The Baltic states set the bar; the big economies get the bill.
Spain, at least, had the nerve to say no. Pedro Sánchez called the 5% target “unreasonable,” refused to sign up to it, and left The Hague with an exemption: 2.1% of GDP and not a cent more. Trump called Spain “a very low payer.”
Nobody Asked the Voters
Were Western Europeans ever asked if they wanted this? Only by pollsters. In 2015 Pew found 58% of Germans, 53% of French and 51% of Italians against using military force to defend a NATO ally attacked by Russia. In a survey Pew published in 2020, majorities in Germany, Italy and Spain still said no. Support for the EU paying for weapons for Ukraine has slid nine points, from 65% in early 2023 to 56% this spring. In France, backing for arms deliveries dropped 18 points, from 65% in March 2022 to 47% this February. By late 2024, YouGov found a negotiated peace between Ukraine and Russia preferred over fighting on by 55% of Italians, 45% of Germans and 43% of the French. A Politico poll last December found French and German adults leaning toward scaling support back. And this summer, majorities in Germany and France said no to Ukraine joining the EU as a full member.
That isn’t Germany, France, Italy or Spain itching for a wider war. It’s a public that was never asked, has grown more sceptical every year since 2022, and is now being handed a bill it never ordered: a target worth more than €200 billion a year in Germany alone, cheered on from Vilnius and signed off in Brussels by officials no voter chose.
When the Money Runs Out
The Hague deal has a review built in for 2029. My prediction: by then, Spain won’t be the only country saying no. The money ran out years ago; what’s being spent now is borrowed. Germany even rewrote its constitution in 2025 so it could borrow for defence outside its own debt brake.
In 1721 Peter the Great settled the Baltic’s fate with a treaty and two million silver thalers. Three centuries later, the region’s future is still being decided by bigger powers doing the sums.
So, are Europe’s smallest nations dragging the continent into war? Not on their own. They do the barking; Brussels holds the leash. And Berlin, Rome and Madrid are being dragged along behind, towards a confrontation their voters never chose, paid for with money they no longer have.
Maybe that is the one hopeful part. The sooner the money runs out, the sooner voters in the big countries will force a change of course, and the sooner Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius go back to being what their size always made them: footnotes in European foreign policy. That may be what finally keeps Europe out of a direct war between nuclear powers.
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