NATO

“We need it for defence.” With these words, U.S. President Donald Trump sought to frame Greenland as a question of national security. The island’s vast reserves of critical minerals and its strategic position in the Arctic have long made it geopolitically significant, yet Trump’s rhetoric elevated it into a symbol of broader American ambitions. This move prompted a rare joint statement by the leaders of seven NATO member states, who rejected any attempt to annex Greenland, a semi-autonomous territory of Denmark. Coming alongside U.S. actions elsewhere, including the removal of Venezuela’s President Nicolás Maduro and threats of intervention in other regions, these developments have fuelled growing concern within NATO that Washington is advancing a new international order driven primarily by its own interests. The prospect of Greenland’s annexation therefore raises serious questions not only about the future of the alliance, but also reveals Europe’s weakened position in the international system and its limited capacity to resist American pressure.

Across NATO, the next generation of forces is being built around a decisive shift toward replacing fuel-based systems with electricity and high-performance batteries. From unmanned systems and smart munitions to mobile command posts and sensor networks, the Alliance’s deterrence posture is becoming electric. The move promises faster deployment, reduced noise signatures, and fewer supply convoys. Yet, beneath this technological progress lies a growing structural risk.   Every step toward electrification deepens NATO’s exposure to fragile supply chains and volatile critical-mineral markets. Batteries are now the linchpin of power projection, but also a potential weak point in it. The Alliance’s ability to fight, deter, and coordinate operations could hinge on materials mined or processed far from NATO’s control. As warfare becomes increasingly digital and electric, NATO faces a strategic challenge of a new kind: not how to innovate faster, but how to secure the energy backbone of its deterrence, and prevent the tools of modernisation from becoming instruments of dependency.

“Poland is at its closest to open conflict since World War Two,” warned Prime Minister Donald Tusk, after a sudden Russian airspace violation rattled the country. On September 9, a swarm of Russian drones entered Polish skies, prompting NATO aircraft to scramble and intercept several of them. It marked the first direct encounter between NATO and Moscow since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022. While the incident might have been a test by Putin to gauge NATO’s and Europe’s response, it also raises the specter of a potential war between Poland and Russia. Given Poland’s critical role within NATO and the EU, far greater than Ukraine’s, the implications of such a conflict would place the entire continent in Jeopardy. The pressing question now is: how likely is this war to erupt, and would Europeans bear the brunt?