The chapter examines how the radical Right’s counter-hegemonic struggle relates to other struggles for power in contemporary world politics and attacks on the so-called liberal international order (LIO). Drawing on recent literature on struggles for recognition, we show how the radical Right has built powerful transversal, global alliances based on a logic and discourse of difference and diversity rather than claims to Western superiority. We illustrate this through an analysis of an emerging global alliance in defence of the ‘natural family’. The radical Right’s civilisationalism and calls for multipolarity also enable complex, strategic convergences with illiberal states such as China and Russia, as well as states and people in the Global South. The multi-polar, civilisational world order envisioned by the radical Right is not anti-hierarchical and inclusive, but legitimises new differences and new forms of exclusion through its claims to cultural diversity. It is a more sovereigntist vision of the world in which exclusionary illiberal forces would be able to operate with fewer international constraints.

Due to high turnover, formal international organizations (FIGOs) face challenges in retaining knowledge – particularly about strategic errors in operations. Errors in the arena of crisis management involve high costs, such as civilian casualties. However, scholarship addressing how security FIGOs share knowledge about what went wrong remains limited. This chapter argues that informal networks among political and military elites are critical for knowledge sharing within FIGOs, even in the face of sophisticated formal learning systems. The study draws on interviews with 120 elite officials at NATO and employs process tracing and social network analysis. Findings indicate that knowledge sharing hinges on the actions of a few elites – “knowledge guardians” – who are central to the transnational, informal elite network. Challenging assumptions about the superiority of formal systems, this chapter stresses that informal governance plays a central role in FIGO knowledge retention, which is critical for institutional memory and learning.

The period 2006 to 2010 witnessed a renewed Australian interest in and engagement with Europe following decades of relative neglect. Australia’s close trade, foreign and security policy relationships with Asia and the United States, coupled with a European Union (EU) agricultural policy inimical to Australia’s trade interests, were major determinants of Australia’s neglect of Europe from the 1970s to the early years of the twenty-first century. A vision of Europe as protectionist, unfriendly to trade, inwardlooking and bureaucratic developed in Australia throughout the closing decades of the twentieth century. This in turn fostered a certain lack of interest in and attention to the European integration process and its increasing global importance. Within the EU Commission, Australia was regarded for much of the past 40 years as interested only in agriculture. For the greater part of this period also, the close traditional, cultural, trade and foreign and security policy ties with the United Kingdom remained Australia’s sole broadly based and close link with Europe.

The defence policies of many countries in the world are in disarray. With the end of the Cold War, the United States and its NATO allies, as well as Russia and former members of the Warsaw Pact, are having great difficulties justifying their large defence forces. As a result, defence budgets are being slashed and force structures are being reoriented away from nuclear conflict and major conventional war. In Asia, however, strong economic growth is sustaining the largest increase in defence spending of any area of the world. This is taking place even though most countries in Asia face no palpable threat. Furthermore, few countries in the region have set out in the public domain reasoned arguments for their defence-force acquisitions. As a close ally of the United States and as an important regional power, how does Australia’s defence policy fit into these two divergent trends? Has Australia’s defence policy changed radically since the end of the Cold War? What about Australia’s economic and political engagement with Asia? Has it led to less anxiety in official circles about potential military threats from the north and has this resulted in any changes to the force structure?

With a focus on the African Union, this chapter examines the Security Council’s practices when interacting with regional organisations in collaborative peace operations. The Security Council plays a critical role in two ways: (i) it identifies security threats and the required responses, and it authorises UN missions to deal with them; and (ii) it determines the role, if any, to be played by regional organisations and authorises the action they can take to address threats to peace in their regions. Africa is both the site of conflicts that have necessitated UN peace operations or the Council’s authorisation of enforcement actions, as in Libya in 2011, and home to that regional organisation which has engaged the most with the United Nations in maintaining international peace and security. The overarching argument of this chapter is that – notwithstanding changes in the post-Cold-War international political landscape and the rise of other voices from the periphery – the status of the Security Council as custodian of the collective security system remains undiminished. Its centrality and primacy have not been challenged or usurped by the African Union or other regional organisations.

This chapter examines sub-systemic actor’s duties. It treats NATO as indicative of a collective defence organization and the European Union (before the Lisbon treaty that contains two collective defence clauses) as indicative of a collective security organization. This chapter argues that NATO has, if requested to help by a member country, a contractual (Article 5) – and thus overriding – duty to protect a member state, and when must cause is satisfied, with securitization. It is argued that Article 5 is now somewhat outdated and that – going forward – just reason (i.e., the existence of an objective existential threat) + macro-proportionality, and not armed attack, should be the threshold for collective political action. The obligation to use securitizing measures, however, rests with the satisfaction of must cause. This chapter also argues that in collective security organizations, the obligation to securitize insiders, rests with remedial responsibility triggered by ties of community/friendship, this means that unlike in collective defence organizations, the obligation to securitize insiders can be overridden.

This chapter seeks to delineate the notion of collective self-defence in international law. While the core concept can be stated relatively easily, there has been persistent controversy regarding the nature of collective self-defence. It is possible to identify no fewer than five different ‘conceptions’ of collective self-defence that have been advanced in scholarship. These conceptions are all explored in detail. The chapter also examines the question of whether collective self-defence is indeed an ‘inherent right’, as Article 51 of the United Nations Charter proclaims. The status of collective self-defence as a right (and, moreover, as a right that is inherent) has been contested. As such, its status requires theorisation based on the analysis of the views of states. Finally, the chapter considers the modality of collective self-defence: in other words, it asks what ‘qualifies’ as an act of collective self-defence. In examining this question, there is particular focus on whether the provision of weapons and logistical support in support of an attacked state amounts to the exercise of collective self-defence.

This chapter examines collective self-defence treaty arrangements. It engages with a diverse range of examples of the collective self-defence treaties (or treaties that contain collective self-defence aspects) that have emerged since 1945 to draw out common themes as to the nature, process, and role of such arrangements, as well as to establish notable variations. The aim is to contribute an overall picture of collective self-defence today specifically in the context of treaty relationships. The chapter argues that such relationships inevitably impose only weak obligations on their parties to defend each other and also can cause notable issues related to overlapping memberships, bureaucracy, and antagonism amongst members (amongst other difficulties). Equally, these arrangements – of which there are now hundreds – are concluded for good reason(s). They provide a range of benefits, especially in terms of their deterrent effect.

This chapter outlines the degree of change and continuity that the Obama administration brought to foreign policy and compares it to the Trump administration and its America First foreign policy.

President Lyndon B. Johnson’s historical legacy in foreign policy is most often associated with the disastrous American military intervention and escalation in Southeast Asia. While the passage of time has not diminished criticism of LBJ’s decision-making in Vietnam, scholars have come to recognize that his administration faced other, often complex international challenges. Some of these issues, like the emergence of a new set of European leaders pursing state interests that often clashed with Johnson’s grand strategic priorities, were of the traditional sort. Other global forces were novel and could not be understood only through a Cold War lens. These new challenges included tense dynamics within the Western alliance, the dilemmas of détente, the aftermath decolonization and the rise of new states, global public health, international monetary relations, and nuclear nonproliferation. This chapter explores how President Johnson navigated some of these complicated, cross-cutting international forces.

This chapter analyses British strategy once direct rule had been imposed from London, and covers the period up to September 1972, when talks between the political parties happened without the moderate nationalist Social Democratic and Labour Party. The chapter documents the efforts by the army to buttress Northern Ireland Secretary William Whitelaw’s quest for peace. Discontent lingered amongst elements in the security forces over restraint in fighting the IRA. Low-level brutality continued, particularly in tough regiments. In July the British government and the Provisionals held secret negotiations. Beforehand, republicans and loyalists targeted civilians to shape the impending dialogue. Senior figures in the Ministry of Defence believed loyalist attacks on Catholics might encourage republicans to modify their demands. Loyalist mobilisation probably convinced the government not to give anything away to republicans. These events, and the success of Operation Motorman in re-entering republican areas, persuaded the army to go back on the offensive against the Provisionals. In doing so they committed to retaining internment, expanding interrogation and adopting a modus vivendi with loyalists. These choices allowed the force level in Northern Ireland to be brought down, as demanded by the commitment to NATO, and swelling discord about repeated deployments on a deeply unpleasant mission.

British strategists came to accept permanent conflict in Northern Ireland because they could only imagine things being worse without them. Preparing for the long haul meant getting the army force level to a sustainable level. From mid 1973 senior officers expressed anxieties about what the repeated tours were doing to their men. Morale-sustaining measures played some part in ameliorating the fatigue. This chapter examines the debate about reductions in the military commitment as the context for understanding the Ulster Workers’ Council strike in May 1974, which condemned Northern Ireland to conflict for decades to come. The chapter argues the Ministry of Defence discouraged the Northern Ireland Office from asking for the reinforcements needed to suppress the strike. By delaying, emphasising police unreliability and presenting a catastrophe as inevitable, the ministry kept the force level down. A major arrest operation towards the end of the strike showed loyalist insurrection to be a less worrisome prospect than commonly feared. An intractable conflict was tolerable to the cabinet as in 1973–5 the character of the violence turned less ‘British’ and more ‘Northern Irish’. Successive London administrations gave confidence to those who opposed political change by the strategy of limited containment towards violent loyalism.

Chapter 5 concentrates on Streit’s efforts as a political lobbyist, primarily with the Atlantic Union Committee (AUC), a Washington lobby group and vocal proponent of Atlanticism during the 1950s and into the 1960s. If Streit’s federal union project represented one version of Atlanticism, the AUC’s extended give-and-take with Congress acted as a midwife to the emergence in the early 1960s of an opposing version. Imagined as a community of transatlantic elites centered in and on the United States, this Atlanticism continues to dominate Washington politics today.

Under Viktor Yanukovych, Ukraine became increasingly autocratic. His concentration of political power and economic assets engendered opposition, but Ukraine seemed stable. While Yanukovych turned Ukraine toward Russia, making significant concessions in return for cheaper energy, he resisted the economic integration that Putin sought, hoping instead for a more popular Association Agreement with the EU. His efforts to play Russia and the EU against one another made Ukraine’s status a zero-sum game internationally. By 2013, it looked like Russia was primed to finally achieve the goal of reeling Ukraine back in, as Yanukovych succumbed to Russian pressure and delayed signing the EU Association Agreement.

As Russia massed troops on Ukraine’s borders in late 2021, few believed that Russia would actually carry out a full-scale invasion. On February 24, 2022 Russia invaded Ukraine along four axes. Contrary to expectations, Ukraine put up a spirited response and Russia’s attack stalled. The West enacted extensive sanctions and provided arms to Ukraine. By the summer of 2022 the war bogged down, with Russia in control of roughly a fifth of Ukraine’s territory. Both sides appeared committed to pursuing success on the battlefield rather than the bargaining table. The war was turning into a contest of logistics, resupply, and endurance.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine shattered any remaining illusions about order in post-Cold War Europe. What caused the conflict? The grounds for conflict were deeply rooted and multiple factors interacted. From the outset, the actors’ goals were incompatible, even if that was obscured by the euphoria that accompanied the fall of communism. All the causes of the conflict remain in place, exacerbated by the war and responses to it. Understanding the deep causes of the conflict forces us to confront the likelihood that simple solutions, like Putin’s passing, are unlikely to solve it.