NATO 2.9: The multipolar paradox of the Atlantic front

As computer engineers well know, denoting software as 1.0, 2.0, or 3.0 signifies the release of a major new version. It must entail changes and enhancements of a substantial enough scale compared to its predecessor to earn that “.0” suffix. If users find these updates underwhelming, a common refrain emerges: “They really should have called this 2.9!”

This is precisely the impression left by the “NATO 3.0” order that the alliance attempted to forge at the Ankara summit. The US-centric world we grew accustomed to in the 2.0 era is gone, yet this new equation lacks the substance to be deemed a true 3.0. NATO 3.0 was a concept popularized by Elbridge Colby, the US Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Policy, envisioning a security architecture in which Europe assumes greater responsibility. The foundations of this architecture were to be laid at the Ankara summit. This distinct framing signaled that the alliance was not merely seeking to hobble along with minor “patches” but was gearing up for a fundamental overhaul to shake off its decades-long inertia. Yet, this new design harbored an inherent paradox: if the son of the household earns his own livelihood, why should he continue to obey his father? Why, once European nations scale up their defense spending, should they align their enmities and alliances strictly with Washington’s dictates? In the absence of the American hegemony that sustained the alliance for 77 years, what is left to take its place?

A disintegrating family

Tunç Akkoç, the Editor-in-Chief of Harici, and I covered the summit on-site. On the first day, we heard “warm” and “amiable” messages, particularly from Secretary General Mark Rutte. Everyone spoke of being a family, of being a cohesive whole. Beyond good wishes and platitudes, NATO, for the first time, focused on quantity rather than quality. Dozens of military-industrial agreements aimed not just at sophisticated technologies, but at establishing production lines capable of generating sheer numerical advantage. Affordable, replenishable combat assets were the center of attention.

The messaging and the atmosphere at the panels could have been said to project a positive outlook for the future of NATO—had Trump not arrived, that is.

Fresh off the plane, the US President first reiterated his designs on Greenland, and then picked a fight with Spain. He characterized them as “an impossible country, not worth talking to” and threatened to suspend trade. As Trump hurled these aggressive remarks, Rutte, sitting right beside him, scrambled to perform damage control, looking much like the child of a collapsing family who thinks, “If I only project enough cheer, maybe I can keep everyone together.” At the press conference, I asked Rutte:

“You find Trump justified regarding operations against Iran; if conflict erupts once more and President Trump calls on the Europeans for support, will you endorse this?”

Rutte gave a lengthy but ultimately unsatisfying answer. The curious part was that he partially agreed with Trump regarding Europe’s complacency. This behavior was not unique to Rutte. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz took a similar path, stating, “It seems Trump had to tell us bluntly to increase weapons production; Trump was right about this.” Seeing that past attempts to criticize Trump—particularly over Iran—failed to yield the desired outcome, Merz apparently resorted to the proven strategy of appeasement.

Yet, this appeasement was not enough. The final communique released at the end of the summit laid bare a stark reality: NATO could no longer define its adversaries as it once did. The language concerning Russia was milder than in previous years, while Iran was subject to a vague assertion that it “cannot possess nuclear weapons,” and China was not even mentioned. In the text, the US made no commitments against Russia, nor did the EU make any promises to Trump regarding Iran or China. While support for Ukraine was earmarked at $70 billion annually, whether the US would play any role in this was left entirely ambiguous.

Let us be honest: in the near term, neither does Trump have any intention of bringing Ukraine aid packages to Congress, nor does Europe plan to provide any serious military backing regarding Iran. Both sides prefer to tell one another, “Go get ’em, tiger, you’ve got this.” But why? Why does Europe refrain from striking Iran, whom it previously designated an enemy? Why does it avoid taking a stand against China, once deemed a threat? Why does the US want to distance itself from the Ukrainian quagmire, a theater in which it was involved for years through NGOs and military assistance?

NATO’s multipolar paradox

By its very nature, NATO is an alliance that must speak with a single voice during major geopolitical crises. This was relatively easy during the Cold War and its immediate aftermath. There was only one center of power. Alternatives were unthinkable. Ideological confrontations drew sharp boundaries. Today, however, it is impossible for the US to dictate common objectives and shared adversaries. Nations engage with one another unburdened by ideological affinities. Aided by globalization, they decentralize their industries and establish trade routes that are too valuable to abandon.

European nations, which point to their eager deployment in Afghanistan and Iraq to counter Trump’s criticisms, now avoid operations around the Strait of Hormuz that could prolong conflict, fearing a catastrophic shock to oil markets. (Though what European militaries could achieve that the US could not remains highly debatable). Moreover, Trump’s stubborn fixation on Greenland had previously driven Europeans straight to Beijing. How, then, could European capitals brand China as a threat today?

A similar divergence of opinion applies to the United States itself. Believing that Russia’s military capabilities have been sufficiently degraded in Ukraine, the American establishment hopes to placate Russia—both to lower the risk of nuclear confrontation and to prevent Moscow from offering Beijing a cheap source of energy. Under these circumstances, why would the US target Russia in the summit’s communique?

Furthermore, there is no real consensus even within Europe itself. From the recent tensions erupting between Poland and Ukraine, to Péter Magyar—who, despite succeeding Orbán, has brought no radical shift on Russia—dissenting voices persist across the continent. When we factor in the rise of Germany’s AfD, the UK’s Reform Party, and Le Pen in France, whose electoral future remains uncertain, they may soon look back on today’s fractured Europe with nostalgia.

Ultimately, a Europe that begins to act independently of the US (even if this is what Washington desires) will naturally prioritize its own national interests. Inevitable clashes of interest will lead to independent coalitions within NATO. Hatchets buried for a century will slowly be unearthed. In other words, for NATO to survive, it needs a Europe that assumes responsibility; yet, this very responsibility may trigger conflicts of interest that could spell the end of NATO. This is the intractable paradox of NATO 3.0. In an alliance like NATO, “co-presidency” simply does not work.

Why 2.9?

In the grip of such a paradox, European nations have yet to clearly chart their own course. They envision a NATO where they produce more and take on greater responsibility, yet they remain unable to map out their own path. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen also attended the Ankara summit. Having previously declared that “Türkiye must avoid Russian and Chinese influence,” von der Leyen gave evasive answers when questioned about defense agreements signed with Türkiye. She, too, is currently unable to define Europe’s strategic trajectory. She cannot prevent European industries, struggling to keep pace with military demand in the shadow of the war in Ukraine, from partnering with Turkish firms. Nor can she stop member states from engaging with China whenever they receive a dressing-down from the US. In such a landscape, what “3.0” can we possibly speak of? In the new order, will Europe stand with the US? Will it gravitate toward China? Or will it stand alone?

There was only one sentiment that felt palpable at the Ankara summit: panic. The panic of a United States unable to pivot to the Pacific as the war in Iran—which was supposed to end swiftly—drags on, and the panic of a Europe terrified of being left stranded once stripped of American patronage.

Meanwhile, amid this crisis, Türkiye has both resolved the YPG issue and made major strides in resolving the F-35 dispute. New defense industry agreements and initiatives will ensure Türkiye is advantageously positioned when this crisis eventually subsides. For we do not know whether Europe, once it finally charts its course, will include Türkiye within its threat matrix. The measures we implement and the binding agreements we forge today will allow us to see tomorrow more clearly. In the meantime, NATO will continue to roll out minor patches to sustain its existence. It is too early for 3.0; versions 2.9.1 and 2.9.2 are still on the way.