In June, Denys Kolesnyk, a French consultant and analyst, had the privilege to discuss security issues with James Greene, an independent international security expert and consultant with previous experience as a NATO diplomat and US naval officer. Mr. Greene has over three decades of experience with countries undergoing profound national transitions, particularly in Latin America, Eastern Europe, and Eurasia. From 2004 to 2009 he served as the NATO chief of mission in Ukraine, and he remains active in those fields.
Since the Hamas attack against Israel on October 7th, 2023, the region again went into a tumultuous period, with the normalisation process under the Abraham Accords being halted. The Israeli military operation in Gaza has become protracted and has already cost Israel some moral points and support from the Western camp. Moreover, just recently, Prime Minister Netanyahu dismissed his War Cabinet. In your opinion, where are we heading with this nine-month conflict? And how can you explain the US approach to it, especially in light of the coming presidential elections in your country?
People often talk about the way the world changed on a certain day, for example on 9/11. Many talk similarly about 7 October. But in reality, the world didn’t change on those days; rather, those days revealed changes that had already been occurring for some time. What changed was the popular understanding of the true state of the world.
On 6 October, the general belief in Israel was that they were in a long-term quasi ceasefire with Hamas, one where each side occasionally pretended to be at war for political purposes, but had no real intent to change the status quo. The next day, they discovered that this had been wishful thinking; in reality, Hamas had never given up its efforts to seriously harm Israel. This was politically shocking and significantly altered the dynamics of Israeli politics – at least in the short term, and probably for decades to come.
Israel, both as a nation and as a political entity, has no choice but to prosecute the war to a conclusion that addresses this new reality. Returning to the status quo of 6 October is not an option because everyone knows that another 7 October will inevitably follow. A ceasefire-only scenario means anticipating the next attack.
Given Hamas’ Iranian patron, its links with Hezbollah, and Iran’s connections with an increasingly desperate Russia, the next ‘7 October’ could be even more devastating. And harder to detect; the ability of Hamas to avoid triggering Israeli intelligence indicators suggests they are already receiving sophisticated advice on operational security.
Clearly, from the perspective of any typical Israeli, a return to the status quo is unacceptable. Israel, therefore, must continue the war until Hamas’ power is broken. Yet the challenge lies in what defines that success. If the goal is to eliminate all Hamas fighters – an absurdly maximalist position – that isn’t possible. And I don’t think that anybody serious — despite what political rhetoric may suggest — actually believes that this is the solution.
On the other hand, a more modest definition of success could provide a clearer path to achieving significant results. If Israel can destroy Hamas’ leadership and force the dissolution of large-scale fighting units – those that can conduct operationally significant ambushes or rocket attacks – into smaller cells that cannot seriously disrupt daily life above the level of day-to-day terrorism, that could be considered a major success. At that point, violence becomes less a military problem and more a criminal one. Israel has dealt with low-level terrorism for decades, which, while not an existential threat, is something manageable by civil authority.
In the case of Gaza, however, there is no functioning civil authority to manage this criminality. So, if it is to be managed, the critical issue is determining what kind of civil authority can be put in place.
It clearly cannot be Hamas since the situation will revert to what it was. There are talks about the Palestinian Authority, but the Palestinian Authority was ultimately unable to maintain control of Gaza, which they lost to Hamas in 2007. They are not stronger now than they were 15 years ago. There is also talk of a UN force, but the UN in Gaza has a particular profile, shaped by its long-standing direct involvement in Palestinian affairs, which compromises its neutrality as compared to other conflicts. Egypt has controlled Gaza in the past, but wants nothing to do with it today.
So, who else could fill that function? At that point, the clear logic driving Israel’s response breaks down. Prime Minister Netanyahu has been unable to provide an answer, for which he lost the support of the opposition in the War Cabinet and responded by dissolving it. The war has now entered the political realm, where it risks becoming muddled by forces that take mutually exclusive views. Some far-right religious members believe in extreme measures that are unacceptable in the modern world. Centrist figures like Benny Gantz advocate for a more balanced solution, although this might be wishful thinking. One untapped source might be Israel’s own Arab population and Arab parties, which could potentially play a role in Gaza’s future. Finding a solution is hampered by the divisiveness that has characterised the tenure of Netanyahu, who has a reputation for not seeking compromise and having a symbiotic relationship with the more extreme elements of Palestinian movements. I’m not suggesting moral equivalence, but I do suggest that Netanyahu found the lack of reasonable moderate voices politically convenient. Indeed, he may have been inadvertently saved politically by Hamas’ rampage on 7 October.
As of today, the situation regarding Gaza’s civil authority remains far from being resolved, and unlikely to change soon. We may see a change in Israeli leadership, possibly with elections in September. But even if Netanyahu is no longer prime minister, the fundamental problems and constrained approaches will persist.
In the US, the Gaza war has both international and domestic political dimensions. From a foreign policy perspective, there is widespread American support for eliminating Hamas as a factor, despite the complexity of the “day after” problem.
But Americans prefer wars to be swift and conclusive. In the Middle East, the Arab-Israeli wars of 1967 and 1973 seemed to confirm that perspective. And this war does not match that model.
Netanyahu is also a divisive figure in the United States. Americans interested in Israeli politics often view him through the lens of his purported American counterparts, leading to polarised opinions. This extends beyond Jewish Americans to a broader political audience, adding a domestic political layer to the issue.
During recent US elections, candidates have focused on maximising base turnout rather than appealing to the middle. Biden’s campaign also supports this approach, but in 2024 he faces a split within his base; some Democrats are instinctively opposed to Netanyahu, equating him with American Republicans.
This dynamic makes discussions about Israel reflect broader American self-perceptions. Criticism of Israel’s actions can act as a stand-in, or catharsis, for coming to terms with the US’ own shortcomings in protecting civilians, such as during the Battle for Fallujah during the Gulf War or the liberation of Manila in World War Two, where civilian casualties were high despite efforts to minimise them.
Let’s shift our focus to the US’ upcoming elections. Obviously, you don’t have a crystal ball, but let’s think of how the US foreign policy might evolve under the Trump administration if he gets elected?
America is a reluctant hegemon, and most Americans do not see the US’ international role as a core part of their identity. The benefits of the current rules-based order for the US and its allies, and its historical uniqueness is under-appreciated by the American electorate. Both political parties have factions that view the international order that we lead as also detrimental to America, imposed on us either by globalists (as the right claims) or the Washington Consensus (as the left tells the story).
Against this backdrop, it is easier to see why the war on terror and conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan exhausted Americans. The American shift against the Iraq war was a key moment in the re-shaping of perceptions about our role in the post-Cold war order. This shift was strongly encouraged by the left wing of the Democratic Party, supported by a media that amplified negative news, turning initial enthusiasm to subsequent disappointment.
Of course, it is the role of the opposition to oppose the ruling authorities. And it is fair to say that the Bush administration, particularly Secretary Rumsfeld, overextended themselves in what they felt could be done in Iraq, and in the resources needed. The economic crisis of 2008 and 2009 accelerated this tendency of Americans to withdraw attention from the world, and redirect it at home. As President Obama put it in his announcement of the (first) withdrawal from Iraq: rather than nation-building abroad, America has been looking to withdraw and focus on nation-building at home.
Obama was all about coming home. Despite being applauded by European allies for not being Bush, to the point of receiving a pre-emptive Nobel Prize, he did not invest much in relationships with our European allies. The Obama administration was more interested in making peace with our enemies than in building relationships with our allies. This can be well illustrated with the “reset button” with Russia. There’s a famous moment where, in order to have an EU-US meeting, all the EU presidents had to go to Sintra in Portugal following a NATO meeting because Obama didn’t have time to come to Brussels.
That Obama aimed to minimise foreign engagements and bring troops home is well known. Yet we often forget that President Bush (Jr.) focused his political energies on developing compassionate conservatism at home; he just didn’t get the chance. And while Bush had a negative attitude toward US allies in his first administration, by the second Bush administration, they had learned their lesson.
What we saw with Trump was, in many ways, a continuation of Obama’s policies with a patriotic-sounding “America First” label. Trump is also expanding on the idea of coming home from our military to our economy – a far more dubious prospect. His attitude toward the foreign policy and national security community was also similar: while Obama advisor Ben Rhodes spoke of ‘The Blob’, the MAGA movement railed against the ‘Deep State’. Yet during Trump’s presidency, he did not have a ‘deep bench’ of MAGA support from which to choose. Ideological members like Steve Bannon were sidelined early, leaving the president surrounded by advisors from the long-established security community. Many of Trump’s early decisions were just following the advice of that community. For example, Trump’s approval of the delivery of Javelin ATGMs to Ukraine in the first year of his presidency – 2017 – was less a new political initiative, and more the new president’s acquiescence to the long-standing consensus by the Pentagon and the National Security Council. Likewise, the conservative security community strongly opposed the Iran deal (as did many on the centre-left) and aligned with Trump’s rhetoric against it. In fairness, Trump did make some unique contributions, most notably by using his business and personal relationships to foster reconciliation between Israel and Saudi Arabia. And as time went on, Trump increasingly looked to his own advice. Trump’s instincts, reminiscent of Obama’s, leaned toward withdrawing from Syria and Afghanistan precipitously and making deals with the Taliban, often in defiance of his advisors.
Then we have Biden, who acts not only to continue many Obama-era policies, but also sometimes to out-Obama his former boss, perhaps in response to the perception that his ideas as Vice President were ignored. Biden’s decision to withdraw from Afghanistan is a good example of this: his advice during the Obama era has been for a lighter footprint in Afghanistan, focused on counter-terrorism, rather than counter-insurgency. Trump’s negotiations with the Taliban have set the stage, and reversing those deals would have come with a political cost for Biden. He likely hoped any negative fallout could be attributed to Trump.
But overriding concerns from security professionals led to significant consequences. The chaotic withdrawal from Afghanistan served as a global wake-up call, signalling a perceived decline in America’s resolve. At the time of the withdrawal, the US’ casualties and presence were minimal, turning the decision into a political symbol rather than a strategic necessity. This abandonment of a successful deterrent against terrorism changed the price for attacking America from utter destruction (and transformation, as in Germany and Japan), to a mere 20 year American intervention.
Given the way Beijing and Moscow characterised the US withdrawal from Afghanistan and its implications for the US’ global role, I believe this withdrawal influenced Putin’s decision to escalate to a full-scale invasion of Ukraine. At that point, Biden, despite possibly having different instincts, lacked the political capital to oppose a full mobilisation against Russia. This mobilisation was driven by the security community, and for many within that community, it was an intuitive move. So, ‘The Blob’ is back – thank goodness.
Turning to the possibility that Trump will return to the presidency. There are still many unanswered questions and unpredictable variables. His instincts likely remain the same, though: to withdraw, make deals with regional hegemons, and allow them to establish order in their areas. He will likely still prefer a transactional and personal approach to international relations, and as in his first term, many countries will try to manipulate US policy by playing to his personal inclinations.
Trump and his political supporters have also re-doubled their attacks on the security community – the ‘Deep State’. With so many of his first-term ‘adult supervision’ having declared against him as president in 2024, his administration lacks respected and experienced members of the security community, and the effects could be unpredictable.
Looking at the US Primaries, the strongest contender against Trump was Nikki Haley, who became a magnet for traditional conservatives who prioritise foreign policy. Even after conceding, Haley and other candidates retained about 20% of the vote, indicating strong opposition to Trump within the party.
While in a typical campaign, the leading contender would pivot towards major groups and positions that had gravitated toward their opponents, Trump has done the opposite, currying favour with his base by declaring Haley supporters anathema.
Biden’s effort to court these voters have also been underwhelming – despite appointing a Republican to his campaign, his strategy focuses on messaging that Trump dislikes for Haley, rather than support for the policy positions that are at the core of the potential swing bloc.
A key question is whether Trump will pivot to attract this group. No such effort is currently underway, and none apparently planned. But if Biden’s attempts to court these voters start bearing fruit, that could force Trump to change his approach, potentially altering his appointments and policies to a more traditional approach. On the other hand, Trump may try to push through deeper changes in civil service, such as reclassifying senior non-partisan officials as a new class of policy-relevant personnel, to be appointed by the President. This could destabilise the system by removing professional and institutional knowledge, leading to more ad hoc decision-making and further instability.
Ultimately, Trump’s instincts to withdraw and make deals with major powers will persist – but the lack of experienced cadres to move policy in new directions will limit the impact of these instincts. While Trump may pursue his big-picture instincts, his administration is more likely to destabilise current policies through ad hoc work than to implement a radically new direction. Some proposals, like replacing the income tax with tariffs, are so unrealistic and could lead to significant political corrections during the midterms.
You worked for NATO for quite some time and you were stationed in Kyiv, Ukraine, as the head of the NATO Liaison Office. How, from your standpoint, NATO influences the security in Europe? And what is NATO’s weight in the Middle East through the Mediterranean Dialogue and Istanbul Cooperation Initiative?
The role of NATO in Europe has evolved significantly since the traditional Cold War balance of power. With the end of the Cold War, the West, in effect, achieved a victory by default. Instead of dissolving NATO, the decision was made to use its institutions to invite former adversaries, who were eager to adopt Western ways of life.
The North Atlantic Cooperation Council, Partnership for Peace, and NATO membership were highly attractive to Central and Eastern European countries. These initiatives created a strong political current, pushing these countries towards painful yet necessary reforms. For instance, in Romania, the NATO membership action plan reform program enjoyed huge support – something like 90% – from across the political spectrum, highlighting its power as a unifying force for reform.
Of course, accession to the European Union is also popular in these nations. But NATO was seen as a less intrusive and more obvious step toward security, particularly for countries fearing a resurgent Russia. And NATO didn’t require the same depth of transformation as the European Union – it was the EU, not NATO, that Bulgarians blamed for the ‘raki tax’ that caused major unrest in 2007.
In Ukraine, the situation was different. NATO was not particularly popular, with support ranging from 15% to 30%, depending on the period. This support was not enough to help form a pre-reform coalition, but it was significant within certain political factions, especially in Western Ukraine. Anti-NATO sentiment was also not a strong political motivator; explicitly anti-NATO parties gathered just a few percentage points in the elections of the 2000s.
Within the political and foreign policy elites, however, NATO membership was a higher profile issue. In the late 2000s, about half of Ukraine’s politicians saw NATO membership as necessary for the country’s security. Within the national security community, the numbers were even higher: 80% or more. These professionals – Ukraine’s ‘Blob’ –recognised the necessity of collective security, acknowledging that without NATO, Ukraine would likely fall under Russian influence. This realistic perspective contrasted with the wishful thinking of some political elites, who believed in “membership magic” — the idea that simply obtaining entry into NATO’s Membership Action Plan (MAP) would solve their security problems. In reality, deterrence comes not from the agreement, but from the hard work once inside, in practical measures like the ability to accept Allied forces and operate alongside them in defence of your own country.
There was an opportunity in 2007-2008 to focus on these practical aspects, but it was unfortunately missed in a myopic pursuit of MAP. Following that, the Yanukovych years were a period of regression for Ukraine’s armed forces. However, after the Russian invasion of Crimea, Ukraine began a decade-long process of rebuilding its military capabilities and undergoing reforms. During this period, NATO and Western countries increased their support, providing training and some weaponry, which proved to be quite compatible with Ukraine’s horizontally-focused and independent, entrepreneurial culture. This preparation paid off during the initial months of Russia’s 2022 invasion, in which Ukrainian resilience and effectiveness showed its mettle, albeit with limited Western weapons at that stage.
Meanwhile, other European countries, including Sweden and Finland, reevaluated their security policies and relationship with NATO. This led to swift and strong reactions when Russia invaded Ukraine, with rapid economic sanctions, increased defence spending, and immediate NATO enlargement. Germany, for instance, added $100 billion to its defence budget almost overnight.
NATO’s response exceeded expectations – although with plenty of legitimate criticisms regarding the enforcement of economic sanctions and the pace of military support. The alliance emerged stronger and more unified, ready to address security challenges in Europe and beyond.
Let me pivot to the Mediterranean and the Middle East. At the end of the Cold War, NATO emerged as the last remaining superpower. Establishing a relationship with NATO was crucial, even for countries in the Mediterranean region, who might not share the same membership aspirations as Slovakia, for example. But while they might not have wanted to transition to democracy, they were keen on improving their economies. And they definitely wanted a relationship with the most powerful alliance in their region, which was essentially a unipolar force.
Engaging with NATO provided professional rewards for their militaries. This professional reward has been one of NATO’s biggest long-term influences on transitioning countries like Ukraine. The transformation of the military ethos from a totalitarian state mindset to one of pride in front of their new counterparts, families, and countrymen is significant.
The military-to-military, political-to-political, and security community-to-security community contacts and dialogues in the Mediterranean Dialogue and the Istanbul Initiative have been important stabilising factors, similar to their role in Eastern Europe in the early 1990s. The countries in the Mediterranean and Middle East are obviously in a different place, but they can be grouped into three clusters with distinct security implications.
The first cluster is the Western Sahara region, including Morocco, Mauritania, Algeria, and Tunisia. The persistent Western Sahara issue poses shared security challenges and shared interests with northern Mediterranean countries like Spain, Portugal, France, and Italy. This region is experiencing increasing destabilisation and loss of influence, highlighted by the withdrawal of French forces from Mali and Niger, and the introduction of Russian influence. These dynamics may benefit certain elites temporarily but are generally unsatisfactory for most people in the region. However, strong military-to-military personal links with NATO counterparts can be important stabilising factors, helping NATO and northern Mediterranean countries understand and address these issues in real-time.
The next cluster includes Egypt, Jordan, and Israel. These countries have traditionally strong relationships with the United States and their militaries view themselves as stabilising forces rather than radicalising ones. The role of the military in these countries will continue to be significant in maintaining stability.
The final cluster involves the Gulf states. These countries face an aggressive Iran and the dominant presence of Saudi Arabia, which has its own vision for the Gulf. There is also the potential for a rapprochement between Saudi Arabia and Iran. Therefore, the smaller Gulf states need to find anchors and roots in other places to gain strength and maintain independence.
In each of these cases, the relationship with NATO serves as a stabilising factor. The stronger NATO is, particularly in this emerging conflict of ecosystems triggered by the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the more it helps countries avoid being pulled into the Russia-Iran-China-North Korea axis. Aligning with an ecosystem of rule-based relationships is naturally appealing for countries – particularly smaller countries – seeking to maintain their stability and independence.
Considering NATO’s Article 5 and the EU’s mutual defence clause (Article 42.7 of the TEU), neither explicitly commits member countries to send troops; they allow for various forms of support, including sending weapons. But we often view NATO as the primary guarantor of peace, stability, and security. Is this because of the United States’ involvement, or are there other factors that make NATO more effective than the EU in guaranteeing security? What is your perspective?
That’s a very good question. There are several factors to consider when discussing the EU and NATO guarantees, as well as their relative weight.
Primo, there’s the role of the United States, and its dynamic with other countries in NATO. For NATO, North America (the United States and Canada) serves as a protected base, a unified position as a massive, relatively secure region on the other side of the planet. Although not completely safe from nuclear threats, this base is geographically isolated and can provide significant industrial and military resources.
Secundo, the US doesn’t have the petty quarrels or border disputes that characterise European politics. For instance, America doesn’t have historical grievances with Germany or the Czech Republic. Unlike many EU members, the US doesn’t have populations in neighbouring countries that it believes should be part of its territory. This separation from European history is a significant advantage for the US in NATO.
Tertio, NATO’s broader membership, which includes countries like Britain and Norway, brings in more perspectives and resources, adding to its strength. And that’s why this wider membership is crucial.
Quarto, NATO is a far shallower institutionally compared to the European Union. This means that the security guarantee offered by NATO is clearer and more straightforward. NATO’s integration is narrower and focuses primarily on national security – that is, issues of national existence. It is less threatening and less all-encompassing than the EU, which deals with a broader range of policies affecting day-to-day life, including budgets, migration, and asylum.
And, finally, NATO does not require the surrender of sovereignty to the extent that the EU does. While foreign security policy in the EU is still considered fully sovereign, it exists within a framework where many other areas are not. In NATO, there is no supranational element, making it a purely intergovernmental organisation. This reduces concerns about sovereignty and makes NATO a more reliable and straightforward security guarantor.
For instance, in the case of Finland and Sweden, there was never a serious discussion that the European security guarantee could equal that of NATO. The absence of complex institutional layers and back-channel pressures makes NATO’s guarantees more straightforward and dependable.
And a quick question to finalise our discussion. Do we learn from history or not?
Well, I think we try to learn from it and history has lessons to teach us. But especially in the modern world, we spend a lot of time shaping the narrative of history to create the lessons we want it to give, rather than trying to really go in and figure out the unpleasant lessons that might call for us to change our preconceptions. There are few Sun Tzu or Klausewitz today than there are historical interpreters. That is not to our benefit.
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