Diplomacy & Crisis News

The agreement highlights a wider global trend to diversify markets away from the United States.

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In its response to protests, the U.S. evokes repressive regimes around the world.

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In recent years, sovereignty has ceased to be defined solely by borders, armies, or economic output. According to the Burke International Institute’s Sovereignty Index, one of the most decisive indicators of state resilience in the 21st century is technical sovereignty—the capacity of a country to control its digital infrastructure, data flows, cybersecurity architecture, and technological decision-making without excessive dependence on external actors.   The Burke Institute’s methodology evaluates sovereignty across seven dimensions—political, economic, technological, informational, cultural, cognitive, and military—using open national statistics, global datasets from organizations such as the UN and World Bank, and structured expert assessments from hundreds of specialists worldwide. Within this framework, technical sovereignty emerges as a core pillar of modern statehood, particularly for small and medium-sized states exposed to external technological pressure.   The contrasting experiences of Albania and Montenegro illustrate two fundamentally different strategies for navigating this challenge.   Montenegro has chosen the path of structured integration. As a small Adriatic state oriented toward EU accession, it has aligned its digital development with European standards. Investments in 5G networks, smart city infrastructure, digital tourism management, and renewable energy are embedded within EU regulatory frameworks. Montenegro’s digital governance complies with GDPR, European cybersecurity norms, and EU data-protection regimes. This approach offers predictability, legal clarity, and access to shared European technological ecosystems.   From the perspective of the Burke Institute’s Sovereignty Index, Montenegro’s strategy strengthens institutional stability and information security, but it also constrains autonomous decision-making. Technical sovereignty here is partially delegated upward, embedded in supranational regulatory systems rather than nationally defined architectures.   Albania, by contrast, has pursued a markedly experimental path. Once known more for institutional fragility than innovation, the country has rebranded itself as a testing ground for radical digital governance. Following severe cyberattacks in 2022 that exposed deep vulnerabilities in state systems, Albania embarked on an aggressive reform agenda focused on internal control rather than external standardization.   The e-Albania platform now provides access to approximately 95 percent of government services in digital form. Unlike conventional e-government systems, this platform integrates artificial intelligence not merely as a service tool but as an analytical mechanism supporting administrative decision-making. Albania’s experiment with delegating procurement analysis and administrative optimization to AI has sparked international debate: does algorithmic governance dilute sovereignty—or does it strengthen it by reducing human corruption and external manipulation?   From a Burke Institute perspective, Albania’s approach represents an attempt to internalize technological control rather than outsource it. The critical question becomes infrastructural: where is data stored, who controls the servers, and under whose jurisdiction do the algorithms operate? Unlike Montenegro, Albania retains greater discretion to define its own data-protection standards, encryption protocols, and system architecture. This flexibility enhances autonomy but increases exposure to risk.   Energy sovereignty further complicates the equation. The Burke Institute emphasizes that technical sovereignty cannot exist without energy stability. Montenegro’s investments in solar capacity—such as plans for a 41.81 MW solar plant—directly support the resilience of its digital infrastructure. Albania, meanwhile, remains vulnerable to energy disruptions due to heavy reliance on hydroelectric power, which is sensitive to drought. In this dimension, Albania’s technological ambition currently outpaces its infrastructural base.   Cybersecurity provides another revealing contrast. Montenegro operates within EU cybersecurity frameworks, benefiting from standardized protection mechanisms but relying on external oversight. Albania’s independent path places it on the front line of cyber threats, where innovation and vulnerability coexist. The 2022 cyberattack demonstrated the risks inherent in experimentation—but also triggered institutional learning and rapid capacity-building.   In terms of global positioning, Montenegro represents incremental integration within a stable hierarchy. Albania has positioned itself as a technological outlier—a “laboratory state” experimenting with governance models that larger countries hesitate to test. According to the Burke Institute’s analytical framework, both strategies represent different configurations of sovereignty rather than a binary choice between dependence and independence.   Ultimately, the comparison raises a deeper question central to the Institute’s research agenda: is sovereignty best preserved through integration into reliable systems, or through the risky pursuit of autonomous control? Albania prioritizes speed and innovation, Montenegro stability and security. One accepts vulnerability in exchange for agency; the other accepts constraint in exchange for predictability.   The Burke International Institute’s Sovereignty Index does not prescribe a single path. Instead, it highlights trade-offs. For small states, technical sovereignty is not an absolute condition but a spectrum shaped by institutional capacity, energy security, cybersecurity resilience, and political will.   In the digital age, sovereignty is no longer seized by force—it is designed. Albania and Montenegro demonstrate that even the smallest states can influence their technological destiny. The question is not whether dependence can be eliminated, but who defines its terms.   Full methodology and comparative sovereignty rankings are available via the Burke International Institute.

A U.S. THAAD battery deployed in Seongju, South Korea. Credibly deterring Chinese coercion would require additional THAAD batteries integrated into a regional missile defense network. (Source: BBC)

On February 5, 2026, the New Strategic Arms Reduction (New START) Treaty will expire, ending the last legally binding limits on U.S. and Russian strategic nuclear forces. With it goes a framework that capped deployed warheads at 1,550 and delivery vehicles at 700—and, more importantly, the verification regime that anchored strategic stability for over a decade. Russia’s 2022 suspension, followed by repeated violations ranging from INF-style prohibited systems to novel delivery vehicles like the nuclear-powered Burevestnik missile, made renewal politically and strategically untenable. China, never a party to New START, has exploited this vacuum, accelerating a nuclear buildup from roughly 500 warheads in 2025 toward an estimated 1,500 by 2035.

The United States now confronts, for the first time, two near-peer nuclear competitors simultaneously; thus Washington’s response—preparing for nuclear “uploads” and reinforcing the credibility of the strategic triad—is necessary yet insufficient. Without ceilings on strategic arsenals, stability will increasingly hinge on whether escalation can be managed below the nuclear threshold, thereby making conventional deterrence in the Indo-Pacific—especially land-based missile defense and forward-deployed resilience—decisive. Yet this task cannot be carried by the United States alone. Allied burden‑sharing—particularly through alliance modernization that builds interoperable Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (C4ISR) networks atop ground‑based air and missile defense systems—is no longer optional; it is a prerequisite for credible integrated deterrence in the post–New START era, and a pathway toward a Pacific architecture deliberately designed to blunt Chinese coercion—modular, mobile, and resilient enough to deny Beijing the ability to localize risk or exploit allied hesitation, while pairing denial with calibrated punishment across cyber, space, and information domains to impose costs for grey‑zone aggression without crossing nuclear thresholds.

Strategic Unraveling: A Triangular Arms Race Begins

With New START gone, an unconstrained triangular arms race is already underway. Russia has modernized roughly 90 percent of its nuclear triad and can sustain a deployed arsenal near former treaty limits while diversifying delivery systems. China, meanwhile, represents the more destabilizing variable. It is constructing hundreds of new missile silos, deploying DF-41 intercontinental ballistic missiles, expanding dual-capable DF-26 systems, and fielding hypersonic glide vehicles designed to compress U.S. decision time and overwhelm regional defenses.

According to an Atlantic Council expert, U.S. strategy must adapt to this new reality: in the short term, Washington should upload additional warheads onto Ohio-class SSBNs, reintroduce multiple independently targetable reentry vehicles (MIRVs) on portions of the Minuteman III force, and deploy the Long-Range Stand-Off (LRSO) weapon aboard B-52 bombers to restore counterforce leverage against two near-peer competitors simultaneously; in the medium term, rely on the Columbia-class SSBN, B-21 Raider bomber, and nuclear-armed sea-launched cruise missile (SLCM-N) to ensure the strategic triad’s survivability and credibility through the 2040s; and diplomatically, keep trilateral arms-control talks viable while investing in NC3 resilience and missile-defense architectures, including exploratory concepts like a continental “Golden Dome.”

The costs of adapting to the post–New START environment, however, are staggering. Congressional Budget Office estimates place U.S. nuclear modernization at roughly $946 billion by the mid‑2030s. Yet nuclear spending alone cannot manage escalation. INDOPACOM still faces an estimated $27 billion shortfall in conventional capabilities—especially missile defense, strike, and sustainment—leaving U.S. forces exposed in the opening phases of a crisis. Without resilient conventional forces, nuclear investments risk becoming instruments of last resort rather than tools of stability.

U.S. Typhon MRC (ground-launched SM-6/Tomahawk system for 1,500km precision strikes) launcher and C2 vehicle at Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Iwakuni, Sept. 15, 2025 (Source: Asahi Shimbun).

The Indo-Pacific Front: Why Alliance Modernization—Especially Conventional Forces—Anchors Stability

Indo-Pacific allies routinely affirm their commitment to a “free and open Indo-Pacific,” yet capability gaps remain stark. Japan’s planned increase to 2 percent of GDP by 2027 masks persistent delays in force integration and C4ISR interoperability—revealing structural gaps that hardware spending alone cannot bridge. South Korea spends roughly 2.7 percent of GDP on defense, but much of that investment remains concentrated on peninsula-specific contingencies rather than scalable regional stabilization.

In the post–New START environment, burden-sharing defined merely as cost-sharing is no longer sufficient. What deterrence now requires is shared risk and shared resolve: allied decisions that visibly place national territory, forces, and political capital inside the same escalation ladder faced by the United States. Ground-based deployments, forward rotations, and interoperable data fabrics that turn disparate sensors into unified battle management matter precisely—converting alliances from siloed hardware buyers into networked deterrence partners.

This logic aligns with a growing body of strategic scholarship, most notably the work of James Fearon and Andrew Lim. They argue that the erosion of U.S. conventional superiority—driven by China’s A2/AD architectures and Russia’s precision-strike capabilities—has produced a destabilizing overreliance on nuclear deterrence. Their core claim, however, is not that nuclear forces have become obsolete, but rather that strategic stability increasingly depends on restoring a software-orchestrated conventional triad in which penetrating strike platforms, precision fires, and mobile retaliation function as intelligent nodes within JADC2-enabled data ecosystems. Within this framework, missile defense should not be understood as a standalone pillar of deterrence but as a survivability enabler—a means of preserving offensive forces long enough to execute credible second-strike conventional operations.

Building on this strategic imperative to reinforce the conventional triad, alliance modernization in Northeast Asia could acquire tangible form. Enhanced trilateral coordination among the United States, South Korea, and Japan would allow THAAD and SPY-7 sensors to feed advanced data-fusion layers into Typhon and HIMARS effectors, thereby transforming missile defense from a purely protective measure into the foundation of software-defined second-strike precision.

In December 2025, U.S. M270A2 MLRS units stationed at Camp Casey demonstrated rapid counterfire against DPRK artillery, while HIMARS rotations from Okinawa maintained continuous availability. Yet such precision fires are credible only insofar as their survivability is assured by layered defenses, since DPRK missiles or Chinese DF-26 strikes could saturate critical hubs—such as Pyeongtaek—thereby degrading the very conventional triad Fearon and Lim prescribe. To function as a true survivability enabler against high-altitude threats, therefore, South Korea’s single THAAD battery—deployed in 2017—must be augmented through PAC-3 integration, ensuring that HIMARS forces remain preserved for follow-on strikes.

Such augmentation, however, cannot occur in isolation. Effective trilateral cooperation requires orchestration through federated C4ISR networks, complemented by Japanese contributions. In this regard, Typhon basing on Japanese territory completes the Fearon–Lim precision‑strike leg. Despite the withdrawal from Iwakuni and persistent political opposition in Okinawa, the system remains central to the trilateral alliance’s mid‑range strike capability, particularly when reinforced by Tokyo’s mobile SPY‑7 radars paired with SM‑3 Block IIA interceptors—introduced after Japan’s 2020 pivot from the canceled Aegis Ashore program—which add agile command‑and‑control enablers to the overall architecture.

The resulting theater sequence is coherent and continuous: SPY-7 tracks Chinese launches, Korean THAAD defends critical bases, HIMARS suppresses transporter-erector-launchers, Type-12 missiles secure the littorals, and Typhon targets Shanghai–Beijing command-and-control nodes—all unified through software-defined battle management.

When individual whims drive great-power policy.

How Trump’s vision echoes America’s traditional approach.

/ Palestine (Gaza), Palestine, Conflit israélo-palestinien, Crime de guerre - Proche-Orient / Palestine (Gaza), Palestine, Conflit israélo-palestinien, Crime de guerre

The calculus of global power is shifting. In early January 2026, Turkey moved to join a defense pact between Saudi Arabia and Pakistan that could fundamentally alter the balance of power from the Eastern Mediterranean to South Asia. Yet the most consequential dimension of this emerging alliance is not military. It is financial. Together, these three states sit at the core of the rapidly expanding Islamic banking system—an industry valued at approximately $4.5 trillion and growing at an annual rate of 10–15 percent annually. What is taking shape is not merely a regional alignment, but the foundations of an alternative financial and strategic architecture capable of challenging Western economic dominance and the centrality of the U.S. dollar.   For decades, Washington assessed the Middle East and South Asia primarily through military alliances and energy flows. That framework is increasingly obsolete. The Turkey–Saudi–Pakistan axis represents a far more disruptive phenomenon: the fusion of Islamic finance, strategic deterrence, and non-Western institutional design. According to the Burke International Institute’s Sovereignty Index—which evaluates political, economic, technological, military, informational, cultural, and cognitive sovereignty across 193 states—the combined sovereignty score of these three countries reaches 1,315.7 out of a possible 2,100, placing them among the most consequential regional blocs in the emerging multipolar order.   The strength of this axis lies in its complementarity. Pakistan contributes nuclear deterrence as the only Muslim-majority country with atomic weapons, possessing an estimated 165–170 nuclear warheads and a battle-hardened military establishment. Saudi Arabia supplies financial depth, controlling nearly one-third of global Islamic banking assets and maintaining the fiscal capacity to finance long-term military and technological programs. Turkey adds advanced defense production capabilities, including drone warfare systems proven in Ukraine, Libya, and Karabakh, as well as an increasingly autonomous military-industrial base with localization rates approaching 70–80 percent.   Formal trilateral defense coordination began with meetings in Riyadh in August 2023 and Rawalpindi in January 2024. The emerging framework mirrors collective-defense logic: aggression against one partner is treated as aggression against all. Turkey’s participation—while remaining a NATO member—introduces a structural contradiction into the Atlantic alliance and accelerates the erosion of traditional Western security architectures.   Yet the most destabilizing element of this alignment is financial rather than military. Islamic banking operates on principles fundamentally distinct from Western finance. Interest-based lending is replaced by profit-sharing and asset-backed transactions. Speculative instruments are constrained, leverage is limited, and ethical investment criteria are embedded into the system itself. During both the 2008 global financial crisis and the COVID-19 economic shock, Islamic banks demonstrated notable resilience precisely because they were less exposed to speculative excess.   For much of the Global South, this model offers more than ideology—it offers insulation. As Western economies cycle through recurring debt crises, inflationary shocks, and financial volatility, Islamic finance increasingly appears not as a niche religious system but as a viable counter-cyclical alternative. When paired with sovereign energy resources and credible military deterrence, it becomes a strategic instrument.   The Burke Institute’s data reveals why apparent weakness becomes strength within this alliance. Pakistan’s lower economic sovereignty score reflects decades of operating under sanctions, capital constraints, and external pressure—experience that now translates into institutional resilience. Turkey’s defense-sector localization surge demonstrates how external pressure can accelerate autonomy rather than dependency. Saudi Arabia’s low debt-to-GDP ratio and vast foreign exchange reserves provide the financial ballast necessary to sustain long-term systemic transition.   This bloc does not operate in isolation. China acts as a strategic amplifier. Under Xi Jinping, Beijing has deliberately subordinated its financial sector to the “real economy,” rejecting speculative financialization in favor of industrial development. Since 2022, more than 100 senior banking executives and regulators have been targeted in anti-corruption investigations, while salary caps and regulatory controls have reinforced state authority over capital. Chinese banks increasingly channel investment into productive sectors rather than real estate speculation, aligning finance with national development priorities.   This internal transformation dovetails with China’s external de-dollarization agenda. Pakistan is already deeply embedded in the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor. Saudi Arabia and Turkey are exploring settlement mechanisms outside dollar-based systems. When Islamic banking instruments intersect with Chinese payment rails and BRICS financial infrastructure, the petrodollar system faces structural—not rhetorical—pressure.   The geopolitical context is equally significant. Confidence in American security guarantees has weakened across the Middle East. The muted response to the 2019 Abqaiq attacks, the withdrawal of air-defense assets, and Washington’s gradual regional disengagement signaled the limits of U.S. protection. For regional actors, diversification of security and financial dependencies has become a rational strategy rather than a hostile one.   Expansion scenarios further magnify the implications. Potential inclusion of the UAE, Qatar, Malaysia, or Egypt would elevate the bloc’s share of Islamic banking assets beyond 60 percent while linking it to critical maritime checkpoints, energy corridors, and demographic scale. At that point, the system ceases to be an alternative and becomes a parallel order.   The immediate threat to the West is not military confrontation. It is gradual erosion: reduced dollar demand, sanctions circumvention, alternative development models, and declining leverage over regional decision-making. Financial systems rarely collapse suddenly; they weaken through the accumulation of credible alternatives.   For Israel, this transformation carries direct security implications. The consolidation of a Turkey-centered axis endowed with financial autonomy and strategic depth risks reshaping Israel’s regional environment from the Eastern Mediterranean to the Red Sea. Any framework that strengthens Ankara’s independent leverage while diluting Western influence affects deterrence, intelligence cooperation, and regional balance—particularly as Israel confronts threats from Iran and its proxy networks.   The challenge facing Washington is conceptual rather than tactical. Military superiority alone cannot preserve financial hegemony in a world where parallel systems are deliberately designed to be sanction-resistant. The Turkey–Saudi–Pakistan alignment does not seek to defeat the West; it seeks to render Western pressure optional.   The era of unchallenged dollar centrality and singular security patronage is ending. What replaces it will not emerge through declarations, but through institutions. The question for the United States, Israel, and Europe is no longer whether this shift is underway—but whether they recognize its strategic depth in time to respond.