NATO's Unity Will Be Tested at Summit in Vilnius

A poster promoting NATO on display in central Vilnius, Lithuania, 08 July 2023. (EPA)
A poster promoting NATO on display in central Vilnius, Lithuania, 08 July 2023. (EPA)
TT
20

NATO's Unity Will Be Tested at Summit in Vilnius

A poster promoting NATO on display in central Vilnius, Lithuania, 08 July 2023. (EPA)
A poster promoting NATO on display in central Vilnius, Lithuania, 08 July 2023. (EPA)

As the Russian invasion of Ukraine continues with no end in sight, NATO's much-celebrated unity faces fresh strains when leaders gather for their annual summit this week in Vilnius, Lithuania.

The world’s biggest security alliance is struggling to reach an agreement on admitting Sweden as its 32nd member. Military spending by member nations still lags behind longstanding goals. And an inability to compromise over who should serve as NATO’s next leader forced an extension of the current secretary general's term for an extra year.

Perhaps most thorny are questions over how Ukraine should be eased into the alliance. Some maintain admitting Ukraine to NATO would be the fulfillment of a promise made years ago and a necessary step to deter Russian aggression in Eastern Europe. Others are fearful it would be seen as a provocation that could spiral into an even wider conflict.

Bickering among friends is not uncommon, and the current catalogue of disputes pales in comparison to past fears that Donald Trump would turn his back on the alliance during his presidency. However, the challenges come at a moment when President Joe Biden and his counterparts are heavily invested in demonstrating harmony among members.

"Any fissure, any lack of solidarity provides an opportunity for those who would oppose the alliance," said Douglas Lute, who served as US ambassador to NATO under President Barack Obama.

Russian President Vladimir Putin is eager to exploit divisions as he struggles to gain ground in Ukraine and faces political challenges at home, including the aftermath of a brief revolt by the Wagner mercenary group.

"You don’t want to present any openings," Lute said. "You don’t want to present any gaps or seams."

By some measures, the Ukraine conflict has reinvigorated NATO, which was created at the beginning of the Cold War as a bulwark against Moscow. Members of the alliance have poured military hardware into Ukraine to help with its ongoing counteroffensive, and Finland ended a history of nonalignment to become NATO’s 31st member.

"I think it’s appropriate to look at all the success," Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, a Kentucky Republican, said in an interview with The Associated Press. "So, I think the invasion has strengthened NATO — exactly the opposite of what Putin anticipated."

He noted Germany’s shift toward a more robust defense policy as well as other countries’ increase in military spending.

But the ongoing war has allowed other challenges to fester or bubble to the surface.

In particular, NATO leaders said back in 2008 that Ukraine would eventually become a member, but little action has been taken toward that goal. Putin occupied parts of the country in 2014 and then attempted to capture Kyiv in 2022, leading to the current war.

"A gray zone is a green light for Putin," said Daniel Fried, a former US ambassador to Poland, and now a distinguished fellow at the Atlantic Council.

The US and Germany insist that the focus should be supplying weapons and ammunition to help Ukraine win the current conflict, rather than taking the more provocative step of extending a formal invitation to join NATO.

However, countries on NATO's Eastern flank — Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland — want firmer assurances on future membership.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy is pushing for that as well. During a visit to Prague on Thursday, he said the "ideal" result of the Vilnius summit would be an invitation for his country to join the alliance.

Jake Sullivan, Biden’s national security adviser, described the summit as "an important moment on that pathway toward membership" and that allies need to "discuss the reforms that are still necessary for Ukraine to come up to NATO standards."

NATO could use the occasion to elevate its relationship with Ukraine, creating what would be known as the NATO-Ukraine Council and giving Kyiv a seat at the table for consultations.

Also in the spotlight in Vilnius will be Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the main obstacle blocking Sweden’s attempts to join NATO alongside its neighbor Finland.

Erdogan accuses Sweden of being too lenient on anti-Islamic demonstrations and militant Kurdish groups that have waged a decades-long insurgency in Türkiye.

Sweden recently changed its anti-terrorism legislation and lifted an arms embargo on Türkiye. However, a man burned a Quran outside a mosque in Stockholm last week, and Erdogan signaled that this would pose another obstacle. He equated "those who permitted the crime" to those who perpetrated it.

Türkiye and the US are also at an impasse over the sale of F-16 fighter jets. Erdogan wants the upgraded planes, but Biden says that Sweden’s NATO membership has to be dealt with first.

Sullivan said the US is confident that Sweden will join NATO "in the not-too-distant future," but it's unclear if the matter will be resolved during the summit.

It’s not the first time that Erdogan has used a NATO summit for Turkish gain. In 2009, he held up the nomination of Anders Fogh Rasmussen as secretary general but agreed to the move after securing some senior posts for Turkish officials at the alliance.

Max Bergmann, a former State Department official who leads the Europe Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, said there's growing frustration among allies toward Erdogan, building on concerns about his ties to Putin, democratic backsliding and sanctions evasion.

"They’ve tried playing nice," Bergmann said. "The question is whether it’s time to get much more confrontational."

Hungarian Prime Minister Vitkor Orban is also delaying his country's approval of Sweden’s membership. In response, Sen. Jim Risch, the top Republican on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, is blocking a $735 million US arms sale to Hungary.

"We don’t want members who aren’t interested in doing everything possible to strengthen the alliance rather than the pursuit of their own or individual interests," he said. "I’m just sick and tired of it."

However, Risch rejected the idea that these disagreements are a sign of weakness within NATO.

"These are kinds of things that always arise in an alliance," he said. "The fact that we’ve been able to deal with them and will continue to deal with them proves that this is the most successful and strongest military alliance in the history of the world."

At least one potentially flammable item has been taken off the summit agenda. Rather than seek consensus on a new NATO leader, members agreed to extend Jens Stoltenberg's tenure for a year. He's had the job since 2014, and it's the fourth time that his time in office has been extended.

Most wanted a woman to take the top job next, and Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen had been considered a favorite candidate. However, Poland insisted that a candidate from the Baltic states should be next because there had already been two Nordic secretaries general in a row. (Stoltenberg was a Norwegian prime minister, and Rasmussen was a Danish prime minister.)

Others are skeptical of accepting a nominee from the Baltics, whose leaders tend to be more provocative in their approach to Russia, including supporting Ukraine's desire to rapidly join NATO.

More disagreements loom over NATO's updated plans for countering any invasion that Russia might launch on allied territory. It's the biggest revision since the Cold War, and Skip Davis, a former NATO official who is now a senior fellow at the Center for European Policy Analysis, said it could involve "lots of arm wrestling and card trading."

"That’s an issue that will cause tension and dissent, and that’s not what the Vilnius summit is all about," he said.



10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
TT
20

10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)

Fleeing Iran with her husband and toddler, Amena Namjoyan reached a rocky beach of this eastern Greek island along with hundreds of thousands of others. For months, their arrival overwhelmed Lesbos. Boats fell apart, fishermen dove to save people from drowning, and local grandmothers bottle-fed newly arrived babies.

Namjoyan spent months in an overcrowded camp. She learned Greek. She struggled with illness and depression as her marriage collapsed. She tried to make a fresh start in Germany but eventually returned to Lesbos, the island that first embraced her. Today, she works at a restaurant, preparing Iranian dishes that locals devour, even if they struggle to pronounce the names. Her second child tells her, “‘I’m Greek.’”

“Greece is close to my culture, and I feel good here,” Namjoyan said. “I am proud of myself.”

In 2015, more than 1 million migrants and refugees arrived in Europe — the majority by sea, landing in Lesbos, where the north shore is just 10 kilometers (6 miles) from Türkiye. The influx of men, women and children fleeing war and poverty sparked a humanitarian crisis that shook the European Union to its core. A decade later, the fallout still reverberates on the island and beyond.

For many, Greece was a place of transit. They continued on to northern and western Europe. Many who applied for asylum were granted international protection; thousands became European citizens. Countless more were rejected, languishing for years in migrant camps or living in the streets. Some returned to their home countries. Others were kicked out of the European Union.

For Namjoyan, Lesbos is a welcoming place — many islanders share a refugee ancestry, and it helps that she speaks their language. But migration policy in Greece, like much of Europe, has shifted toward deterrence in the decade since the crisis. Far fewer people are arriving illegally. Officials and politicians have maintained that strong borders are needed. Critics say enforcement has gone too far and violates fundamental EU rights and values.

“Migration is now at the top of the political agenda, which it didn’t use to be before 2015,” said Camille Le Coz Director of the Migration Policy Institute Europe, noting changing EU alliances. “We are seeing a shift toward the right of the political spectrum.”

A humanitarian crisis turned into a political one

In 2015, boat after boat crowded with refugees crashed onto the doorstep of Elpiniki Laoumi, who runs a fish tavern across from a Lesbos beach. She fed them, gave them water, made meals for aid organizations.

“You would look at them and think of them as your own children," said Laoumi, whose tavern walls today are decorated with thank-you notes.

From 2015 to 2016, the peak of the migration crisis, more than 1 million people entered Europe through Greece alone. The immediate humanitarian crisis — to feed, shelter and care for so many people at once — grew into a long-term political one.

Greece was reeling from a crippling economic crisis. The influx added to anger against established political parties, fueling the rise of once-fringe populist forces.

EU nations fought over sharing responsibility for asylum seekers. The bloc’s unity cracked as some member states flatly refused to take migrants. Anti-migration voices calling for closed borders became louder.

Today, illegal migration is down across Europe While illegal migration to Greece has fluctuated, numbers are nowhere near 2015-16 figures, according to the International Organization for Migration. Smugglers adapted to heightened surveillance, shifting to more dangerous routes.

Overall, irregular EU border crossings decreased by nearly 40% last year and continue to fall, according to EU border and coast guard agency Frontex.

That hasn’t stopped politicians from focusing on — and sometimes fearmongering over — migration. This month, the Dutch government collapsed after a populist far-right lawmaker withdrew his party’s ministers over migration policy.

In Greece, the new far-right migration minister has threatened rejected asylum seekers with jail time.

A few miles from where Namjoyan now lives, in a forest of pine and olive trees, is a new EU-funded migrant center. It's one of the largest in Greece and can house up to 5,000 people.

Greek officials denied an Associated Press request to visit. Its opening is blocked, for now, by court challenges.

Some locals say the remote location seems deliberate — to keep migrants out of sight and out of mind.

“We don’t believe such massive facilities are needed here. And the location is the worst possible – deep inside a forest,” said Panagiotis Christofas, mayor of Lesbos’ capital, Mytilene. “We’re against it, and I believe that’s the prevailing sentiment in our community.”

A focus on border security

For most of Europe, migration efforts focus on border security and surveillance.

The European Commission this year greenlighted the creation of “return” hubs — a euphemism for deportation centers — for rejected asylum seekers. Italy has sent unwanted migrants to its centers in Albania, even as that faces legal challenges.

Governments have resumed building walls and boosting surveillance in ways unseen since the Cold War.

In 2015, Frontex was a small administrative office in Warsaw. Now, it's the EU's biggest agency, with 10,000 armed border guards, helicopters, drones and an annual budget of over 1 billion euros.

On other issues of migration — reception, asylum and integration, for example — EU nations are largely divided.

The legacy of Lesbos

Last year, EU nations approved a migration and asylum pact laying out common rules for the bloc's 27 countries on screening, asylum, detention and deportation of people trying to enter without authorization, among other things.

“The Lesbos crisis of 2015 was, in a way, the birth certificate of the European migration and asylum policy,” Margaritis Schinas, a former European Commission vice president and a chief pact architect, told AP.

He said that after years of fruitless negotiations, he's proud of the landmark compromise.

“We didn’t have a system,” Schinas said. “Europe’s gates had been crashed."

The deal, endorsed by the United Nations refugee agency, takes effect next year. Critics say it made concessions to hardliners. Human rights organizations say it will increase detention and erode the right to seek asylum.

Some organizations also criticize the “externalization” of EU border management — agreements with countries across the Mediterranean to aggressively patrol their coasts and hold migrants back in exchange for financial assistance.

The deals have expanded, from Türkiye to the Middle East and across Africa. Human rights groups say autocratic governments are pocketing billions and often subject the displaced to appalling conditions.

Lesbos still sees some migrants arrive Lesbos' 80,000 residents look back at the 2015 crisis with mixed feelings.

Fisherman Stratos Valamios saved some children. Others drowned just beyond his reach, their bodies still warm as he carried them to shore.

“What’s changed from back then to now, 10 years on? Nothing,” he said. “What I feel is anger — that such things can happen, that babies can drown.”

Those who died crossing to Lesbos are buried in two cemeteries, their graves marked as “unknown.”

Tiny shoes and empty juice boxes with faded Turkish labels can still be found on the northern coast. So can black doughnut-shaped inner tubes, given by smugglers as crude life preservers for children. At Moria, a refugee camp destroyed by fire in 2020, children’s drawings remain on gutted building walls.

Migrants still arrive, and sometimes die, on these shores. Lesbos began to adapt to a quieter, more measured flow of newcomers.

Efi Latsoudi, who runs a network helping migrants learn Greek and find jobs, hopes Lesbos’ tradition of helping outsiders in need will outlast national policies.

“The way things are developing, it’s not friendly for newcomers to integrate into Greek society,” Latsoudi said. "We need to do something. ... I believe there is hope.”