passing armies. Some 65km at its narrowest, the corridor carries two big arteries connecting the Baltic states to the European hinterland—the Via Baltica motorway and Rail Baltica high-speed train line. Both projects are incomplete, partly because of intra-Baltic disagreements. Yet they are vital for peacetime commerce and wartime logistics alike. Even now, under previous agreements, special Russian trains cut across southern Lithuania, ferrying passengers between Kaliningrad and the Russian heartland four times a day in sealed carriages watched by Lithuanian border guards. Goods transit is also restricted. The Baltic republics have long felt vulnerable, given their small populations, Russian-speaking minorities and the Kremlin’s revanchism. They face frequent “grey-zone” harassment by Russia—cyberattacks, incursions by jets and drones, sabotage of undersea cables, disinformation and more. Vilnius lies just 35km from Belarus, whose criminal gangs send migrants and balloons laden with contraband cigarettes over the border. Were Russia to invade the Baltic states, it might try to sever the Suwalki corridor to stop NATO reinforcements, perhaps with drones alone. How might such a war unfold, with and without American help? NATO used to assume it would have to fall back, muster reinforcements and then try to retake the Suwalki corridor. These days, though, it intends to hold as much ground as possible. Ukraine shows that smaller armies can stop Russia, even push it back, with the right mix of grit, technology and help. NATO has strengthened its eastern flank, increasing its four rotational battlegroups (beefed-up battalions) to nine. Some, such as the German one in Lithuania, have expanded into brigades (typically three battalions). The Baltic states and Poland have added muscle, too. Defence spending in all of them is set to reach 5% or more of GDP this year. Lithuania is consolidating its disparate units into a heavy armoured division (with three brigades) totalling some 20,000 men, to be equipped with German Leopard tanks, Swedish CV90 infantry fighting vehicles, French Caesar artillery and American HIMARS missiles. Much of Lithuania’s terrain—swampy and forested—favours the defender, all the more in the drone era. Were the Suwalki corridor nevertheless cut, the
Baltic states would be easier to resupply by sea since Sweden and Finland have joined NATO. American instructors have also been training the Lithuanian Rifleman’s Union, a voluntary militia, in such things as raids and kidnapping under occupation. If Russia attacked, says Rear Admiral Giedrius Premeneckas, one of Lithuania’s top brass, it “would be making a huge mistake—much bigger than they did in attacking Ukraine”. NATO admits it still has much to learn from Ukraine’s drone-infested battlefield. In exercises this year Ukrainian drone teams wiped out entire NATO battalions. In “Freedom Shield”, the multinational battlegroup used drones and other weapons to repel a German unit playing Russian invaders. Even so, the tank is far from obsolete, insists Lieutenant Colonel Hagen. Future warfare will require better protection against drones, and will involve more unmanned ground vehicles, but, “You still need tanks to take and hold ground.” With America in the fight, NATO commanders reckon that “multi-domain” operations on land, sea, air, space and cyberspace—all enabled by data networks linking sensors to shooters, processed by AI—will allow them to manoeuvre, outrun drone units and overpower Russian forces. NATO aircraft and long-range missiles would neutralise Russian anti-aircraft and anti-shipping batteries. The most vulnerable spot in the battlefield might not be the Suwalki corridor but Kaliningrad which, Admiral Premeneckas warns, “will not be excluded from military actions if Russia does something stupid”. How would Europe fight if America cut off all support? The 45th brigade insists it has all the material it needs, in both Lithuania and Germany. Ruben Stewart of the International Institute for Strategic Studies, a think-tank in London, notes in a recent paper that European armies match or exceed Russian capabilities in many domains. But America still provides NATO’s “operating system”, including intelligence, surveillance drones and satellites, long-range weapons, air defences and airlift. Without America, “what would disappear most critically is not mass, but integration,” Mr Stewart argues. European armies would have to fight “more cautiously, more deliberately”. They would have less warning of Russian troop movements and would be less certain of their direction, so would have
to be spread more thinly. They would be less joined-up as satellite signals, communications and data flows became less reliable. Air and ground forces would fight largely separate battles. Russian air defences might survive and Europeans might lack the means to shoot down Russian drones and missiles. All this makes it harder to hit faraway targets and exposes NATO’s rear to more damage. Europe could not fight a war of manoeuvre. “It would be a war of denial, attrition and endurance that trades speed for sustainability and seeks to win over time rather than at the outset,” writes Mr Stewart. Or, as a senior NATO officer puts it, “It would look more like Ukraine than the battlefield we would hope for.” A static, bloody and drawn-out war of attrition, in turn, might be hard to sustain politically. “Deep strike” weapons, with a range of 1,000km or more, illustrate Europe’s bind. German-made Taurus and the Franco-British SCALP/Storm Shadow missiles fly about 500km. With America holding back Tomahawks, Europeans are scrambling for alternatives. Germany is working with Britain on hypersonic and stealthy cruise missiles, and with Ukraine on simpler but battle-tested weapons. Others, including the MBDA consortium, are pursing similar systems. To use them effectively, though, Europeans need space- based surveillance and communications networks. Germany plans to spend €35bn on such kit. Any war would also rage in the shadow of nuclear weapons. Russia has threatened to use them in Ukraine. The idea that even a tough-love America can preserve nuclear deterrence while reducing conventional commitments is debatable. “If the Americans signal that they don’t want to send their conventional troops to fight for Latvia or Poland, then how believable is it that they will be willing to risk nuclear war?” asks Artur Kacprzyk of the Polish Institute of International Affairs, a think-tank. Britain and France, with arsenals of 200-odd warheads apiece, compared with the 5,000-plus that America and Russia each hold, have declared: “There is no extreme threat to Europe that would not prompt a response by our two nations.” But without America’s nuclear umbrella, European countries will inevitably be more cautious about war with Russia.
What is more, without American leadership a European-only NATO risks “inertia on the political level”, says Christian Mölling of EDINA, a think- tank in Berlin. A war-game last year sponsored in part by Die Welt, a German newspaper, imagined Russia using a humanitarian crisis in Kaliningrad as a pretext to seize the Suwalki corridor. America declines to invoke Article 5; the German brigade fails to act, in part because Russian drones mine the roads leading out of its base. The game was flawed—it ignored Lithuania’s own forces, which would not hesitate to resist—but it highlighted likely pitfalls. European countries know they have to curb dependence on America, but are torn on priorities. Should they buy weapons off the shelf, including American ones, or take time to develop European ones? For some French officials, the first task is to create European communications systems, data clouds and AI models. Germany, in contrast, wants to bulk up conventional units, not least with tanks and ammunition. Many allies are wary of giving up on America, lest their fears become self-fulfilling. A paper by the European Council on Foreign Relations, another think-tank, argues that full European autonomy is out of reach. It suggests that NATO’s command should become “double-hatted”, to allow for European-only operations—although this would require American consent. How long does Europe have? The irascible Mr Trump might turn his back on it at any time. Mr Putin might gamble on challenging Europeans before they are ready. A further imponderable is whether Europeans can hold together if hard-right populists come to power in Britain, France or Germany. In any event, defending Europe begins with helping Ukraine. The more it can resist Russia, the better terms it can strike in a peace deal and the more time Europeans have to prepare. It should not be an impossible quest. As Radek Sikorski, Poland’s foreign minister, puts it, Europe does not need to be “heroic” or to match American prowess: “We don’t even have to be as good as the United States. We just have to be better than Putin.” ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//international/2026/07/02/nato-ponders-how-to-defend- eastern-europe-as-america-pulls-back
Allies learn how to bully America Can Taiwan use its chipmaking industry to strong-arm Donald Trump? July 2nd 2026 AROUND THE world, friends and adversaries of America are reaching the same, bleak conclusion. To earn President Donald Trump’s respect, show that you can hurt him. None of America’s security partners is foolish enough to threaten Mr Trump openly. But all of them watched Iran gain leverage over a stronger adversary by closing the Strait of Hormuz, and some were taking notes. Iran’s abuse of this choke point is simply appalling, such allies tut-tut. How do we get one of our own? This line of reasoning can even be heard—albeit quietly, and behind closed doors—from well-placed folk in Taiwan, an island of 24m people that China claims as its own. It is a high-risk discussion. Taiwan’s survival as a self- ruled democracy relies on decisions made by America’s president. America