The Iran War may eventually end through a ceasefire, an interim agreement, or a broader diplomatic settlement. Regardless of how the fighting stops, one thing has become impossible to ignore. The Middle East’s existing security architecture has failed. For decades, the region operated under a series of overlapping assumptions. Gulf states relied heavily on American military protection. Israel maintained its own formidable deterrent capabilities. Arab governments pursued bilateral relationships with Washington while attempting to manage tensions with Tehran through diplomacy, economic engagement, or strategic hedging. The war exposed the limitations of that model. 

Despite decades of military investment, Gulf states found themselves vulnerable to missile and drone attacks. Critical energy infrastructure, shipping routes, and economic hubs became targets. Even where air and missile defenses performed effectively, the conflict demonstrated that no country can indefinitely defend itself against sustained missile salvos without deeper regional cooperation. 

The lesson from the war is not simply that Iran remains a challenge. The deeper lesson is that the region lacks a credible collective defense structure capable of deterring aggression before it escalates into major conflict. If the objective is to prevent future missile attacks, deter nuclear coercion, reassure regional partners, and avoid a destabilizing nuclear arms race, then the Middle East requires a new collective defense arrangement, not a direct replica of NATO, but instead an alliance inspired by some of its most successful features. 

The Collapse of the Old Model 

For many years, the Gulf security order rested on a simple bargain. The United States would provide military protection and extended deterrence while regional states focused on economic development and internal stability. The Iran War exposed the weaknesses of that approach. Even with a significant American military presence, missile and drone attacks reached the Gulf territory. Air defense systems intercepted many threats, but the sheer volume of attacks highlighted the vulnerability of individual states acting largely on their own. At the same time, regional governments discovered that they often had limited influence over strategic decisions that could profoundly affect their security. They faced the consequences of escalation without necessarily controlling it. The result is a growing recognition that future security arrangements cannot return to the status quo. 

Why Collective Security Is No Longer Enough 

For decades, regional cooperation has largely focused on collective security rather than collective defense. Collective security emphasizes diplomacy, dialogue, intelligence sharing, and crisis management. It helps states coordinate responses to threats but does not necessarily guarantee military support if a member is attacked. The Iran War demonstrated the limitations of that model. Missile attacks, drone strikes, maritime threats, and the possibility of nuclear coercion require more than consultation mechanisms. It requires credible defense that deters. 

Deterrence depends on an adversary believing that aggression against one state will trigger a broader regional response from others that is not worth the aggressive action. This is the essence of collective defense. The challenge facing the Middle East is therefore not simply to cooperate more effectively. It is how to build a framework capable of convincing potential adversaries that aggression against one participant risks confrontation with all. 

What a New Collective Defense Framework Would Look Like 

Rather than each country operating independently, a common air and missile defense network would provide a shared operational framework and faster response times. This is arguably the easiest and most practical first step because many of the required systems already exist. 

A successful post-war defense architecture would likely rest on five pillars. Each pillar supports the others in creating a collection of capabilities that can be brought to bear on an aggressor. 

Pillar 1, Integrated Missile Defense: The Iran war demonstrates that missile defense is no longer a national challenge; it is a regional one. A future framework should connect the radar, sensor, and interceptor networks of, Israel, Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Qatar, Jordan, and the United States. 

Pillar 2, Integrated Intelligence: No missile defense system can function effectively without intelligence. A regional integrated intelligence network would combine missile warning systems, satellite surveillance, maritime monitoring, counter-terrorism intelligence, and track proxy groups. Israel’s intelligence capabilities would be particularly valuable, while Gulf states could contribute geographic reach, local networks, and regional expertise. 

Pillar 3, Conventional Military Integration: Deterrence works best when adversaries believe aggression will trigger an unacceptable coordinated response. Regional militaries should develop joint planning mechanisms, common operating procedures, maritime security coordination, air force interoperability, and shared exercises. The goal would not be to create a supranational military force but rather to ensure that any attack on one member triggers a coordinated defensive response. 

Pillar 4, A Credible Nuclear Umbrella: This concept is likely to be the most controversial component, yet it may also be the most important. Extended deterrence has historically been one of the most successful tools available for limiting nuclear proliferation among allies while maintaining strategic stability. However, the greatest long-term danger following the Iran War may not be Iran itself. It may be the possibility that multiple regional powers conclude they require their own nuclear weapons. If Saudi Arabia were to pursue an independent nuclear arsenal, others could eventually follow. The result could be a highly unstable multipolar nuclear Middle East. 

A more sustainable alternative would be a regional extended-deterrence framework similar in principle to NATO’s nuclear umbrella. Under such an arrangement, American nuclear weapons would remain under exclusive United States control but would be integrated into a broader deterrence architecture protecting key regional partners. Potential participants could include Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Qatar, and Jordan. The purpose would not be to spread nuclear weapons across the Middle East. Instead, it would be to prevent their spread. 

Pillar 5, Strategic Consultation: Military capability alone is insufficient to deter. One of NATO’s greatest strengths is not its military hardware but its institutionalized political consultation. This model reveals that regional leaders require standing mechanisms to discuss emerging threats, nuclear developments, crisis management, escalation risks, and collective responses. Security cannot be improvised during a crisis. It must be built before one occurs. 

Israel’s Role in Defense 

A future collective defense framework will be impossible without Israel. 

That reality may remain politically uncomfortable in parts of the region, but the war reinforced Israel’s position as one of the Middle East’s most capable military and intelligence powers. Israel could serve many roles ton include strategic intelligence partner, A missile-defense leader, advanced defense technology provider, and a contributor to regional deterrence. Rather than replacing American leadership, Israel would complement it. 

Not a Middle Eastern NATO 

Critics will inevitably describe this collective defense as a Middle Eastern NATO. That comparison is understandable, but incomplete. NATO emerged as a formal treaty alliance among largely like-minded democratic states facing a common Soviet threat. The Middle East presents a far more complex environment. Any future defense arrangement would likely involve monarchies, democracies, and other political systems with differing strategic priorities. Participation would almost certainly occur at distinct levels, with some states becoming core members while others cooperate selectively. Turkey and Pakistan, for example, could contribute through intelligence cooperation, military exercises, defense-industrial partnerships, and strategic dialogue without necessarily becoming full members.  

Instead of NATO, a collective defense would be more like the Triple Alliance, but more complex. These arrangements would provide a flexible and regionally tailored framework with multiple state interests. Yet it would share one crucial characteristic with NATO. It would be a collective defense. Its central message would be simple. Aggression against one participant risks a coordinated response from all. That principle, backed by integrated conventional and nuclear deterrence, would form the foundation of regional stability. 

Not a Perfect Solution, But the Alternative Is Worse 

Critics will argue that such a framework risks provoking Iran. This may do just this. However, the alternative may be far more dangerous. Without a credible collective defense architecture, the region could otherwise face, persistent missile wars, Iranian coercion, expansion of nuclear weapons programs, strategic fragmentation, and increased great-power competition involving the United States, China, and Russia. 

The purpose of a collective defense arrangement is not to prepare for another war. 

It is to make another war less likely. The Iran War exposed the weaknesses of the Middle East’s existing security order. The challenge now is whether regional leaders can transform that painful lesson into a durable defense framework that deters aggression, reassures partners, prevents proliferation, and creates the foundations for a more stable peace. 

History shows that major wars often reshape regional security systems. The question facing Middle Eastern leaders today is whether they will build a new order after this conflict or wait for the next crisis to force one upon them. 

Natalie Treloar is the Australian Company Director of Alpha-India Consultancy, a Senior Fellow at the Indo-Pacific Studies Center (IPSC), a Senior Analyst at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies (NIDS), and a member of the Open Nuclear Network. Views expressed in this article are the authors’ own. 

Why the Middle East Needs a New Collective Defense Arrangement After the Iran War  was originally published on Global Security Review.

In his “Ile Longue” speech on March 2, 2026, French President Emmanuel Macron delivered a message that will echo across European capitals for years to come. For the first time, a European leader publicly articulated that France’s nuclear deterrent carries a distinctly “European dimension.” While the ultimate authority to launch remains the prerogative of the French President, Macron made it clear that an attack on a key European partner could trigger a French nuclear response. This is not a symbolic gesture: it reflects a growing recognition that Europe can no longer rely solely on the United States to guarantee its security. In a world where great-power priorities are increasingly transactional, Europe is beginning to define its own strategic boundaries.

The 2026 U.S. National Defense Strategy (NDS) reinforced this reality. By designating Russia as a “European responsibility,” the strategy signals a deliberate shift: Washington will focus its conventional forces on the homeland and the Indo-Pacific Theater, leaving Europe to confront the Russian threat largely on its own terms. The nuclear umbrella remains intact, but the implicit promise of automatic conventional reinforcement is fading. Even seemingly peripheral actions, such as elevating Greenland to a primary U.S. homeland interest alongside the Panama Canal, highlight an unmistakable message: European security is now secondary to America’s own global priorities. Transactions, not guarantees, define the relationship, and Europe is taking note.

This strategic recalibration has deepened a credibility gap that European policymakers cannot ignore. Repeatedly questioning of NATO’s relevance, combined with explicit demands for Europe to “Buy American,” has underscored a harsh truth: the U.S. is no longer a guaranteed partner for long-term security. European arms imports from the U.S. surged to $68 billion in 2024, a fivefold increase over the 2017–2021 average, while American threats of trade countermeasures in response to “Buy European” procurement rules have reinforced the perception that collective defense is contingent on economic acquiescence. For many in Berlin, Paris, and Warsaw, the lesson is stark: security can no longer be assumed; it must be actively prepared.

Europe’s response has been both practical and psychological. The continent is actively building a more integrated and networked continental defense architecture, driven by a growing demand for strategic autonomy—particularly in areas such as drone defense, air and missile defense, and long-range strike capabilities. This effort reflects a gradual shift toward forward deterrence, in which credible conventional capabilities are positioned to signal readiness and resilience in the face of potential aggression. Forward deterrence, therefore, is not simply about stationing troops or deploying hardware; it represents a broader strategic mindset in which Europe seeks to reduce its structural dependence on external guarantees. While European defense infrastructure is not yet fully independent of Washington, ongoing investments and integration efforts indicate a clear trajectory toward greater operational autonomy, with more robust capabilities expected to mature between 2025 and 2030.

Meanwhile, France and the United Kingdom through the Northwood Declaration are exploring ways to “Europeanize” their nuclear forces, offering broader protection to allied partners while retaining national control over launch decisions. Macron’s speech embodies this principle: strategic assets—including Rafale jets and the planned next-generation nuclear submarine, “The Invincible”—can now be dispersed across allied territory to provide strategic depth and complicate adversary calculations. For the first time, non-nuclear partners such as Germany and Poland are participating in joint exercises that directly interface with French nuclear capabilities. The psychological message is clear: Europe is beginning to assert a sovereign layer of deterrence that complements, rather than replaces, NATO’s structures.

Poland’s recent statement that it may eventually seek its own nuclear weapons, as President Tusk indicated, also highlights the accelerating sense of urgency in Eastern Europe. So here the question arises that While Macron’s “Europeanized” nuclear deterrent provides a layer of strategic depth, then why Poland seeks to own nuclear weapons? The answer is that Macron’s forward deterrence is not scaled to cover the entire continent comprehensively, particularly in regions most exposed to Russia. For Warsaw, the calculus is simple: if U.S. guarantees are increasingly transactional, and if NATO’s nuclear planning remains centered in France and the U.K., then relying solely on allied deterrence is insufficient.

This development illustrates two broader dynamics. First, it highlights the limits of “second-layer” nuclear deterrence. Even with France operationally dispersing assets and including non-nuclear allies in exercises, some countries may feel compelled to consider independent capabilities to ensure credible protection. Second, it signals that Europe’s forward deterrence is moving from theory into practice, not only in doctrine and exercises but in actual national policy deliberations. Warsaw’s potential pursuit of nuclear weapons is less a provocation than a symptom of the same trend already evident in France and Germany’s expanded conventional and nuclear postures: Europe is taking responsibility for its own security.

Hence, Macrons’ speech represents a redefinition of European strategic autonomy. Between 2021 and 2024, EU defense spending rose by 30 percent, reaching €326 billion, signaling a growing recognition that reliance on Washington alone is no longer sustainable. European governments are investing not just in hardware, but in doctrine, interoperability, and the credibility of their deterrent posture. Strategic autonomy, once rhetorically flourishing, has become an existential imperative. Forward deterrence and strategic autonomy are complementary layers of security designed to mitigate the risk of over-reliance on an American partner whose priorities may shift.

Europe is thus navigating a delicate balance. It is neither abandoning NATO nor discarding the U.S. nuclear guarantee. Instead, it is learning to prepare for a future in which guarantees are no longer unconditional. The era of unquestioned extended deterrence is ending, and the continent must act with foresight. Forward deterrence is more than a strategic posture; it is a signal to Moscow, to Washington, and to Europe’s own citizens that the continent is willing and able to take responsibility for its own defense.

Europe is no longer a passive theater under American protection. It is a region preparing to defend itself, thoughtfully and decisively, in a strategic environment defined by uncertainty, transactional alliances, and shifting global priorities. Macron’s “Ile Longue” speech may have been delivered in France, but its message resonates across the continent: the future of European security will be determined not by the automatic extension of U.S. deterrence, but by Europe’s own willingness to claim responsibility for its survival.

Qurat-Ul-Ain Shabbir, a PhD scholar at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad, is currently serving as a Research Officer at the Centre for International Strategic Studies AJK. Her research interests lie in the global nuclear order and geopolitical dynamics. The views of the author are her own.

Beyond the American Umbrella: Europe’s Turn to Forward Deterrence was originally published on Global Security Review.

That contradiction has come into sharp relief during the presidency of Donald Trump, whose blunt interest in Greenland exposed what European diplomacy had long obscured. The controversy was framed as eccentricity or provocation, but the underlying grievance was familiar. For decades, the United States has underwritten European security while European governments reduced their defense investments in favor of generous welfare systems and subsidized industry, confident that the American half of the alliance would absorb the risk. The Greenland crisis has simply made that imbalance visible.

Greenland’s Strategic Reality

Greenland occupies a unique strategic position. It sits in the western hemisphere astride the Arctic approaches to the “GIUK Gap,” hosting critical space and missile-warning infrastructure essential to NATO’s early-warning architecture. The 2004 Defense Greenland Agreement between the United States and Denmark, Amending and Supplementing the Agreement of April 27, 1951, explicitly limits the US defense area in Greenland to Thule (Pituffik) Air (Space) Base only.

With Arctic sea lanes opening and undersea infrastructure becoming a focal point of competition, Greenland’s strategic importance is no longer peripheral but central. The question now confronting Europe is whether the small Kingdom of Denmark and, by extension, Europe, can demonstrate even minimal sovereignty over a territory it insists is non-negotiable but has left undefended for some 250 years.

Article 3 of the NATO Treaty states: “In order more effectively to achieve the objectives of this Treaty, the Parties, separately and jointly, by means of continuous and effective self-help and mutual aid, will maintain and develop their individual and collective capacity to resist armed attack.” Put plainly, Denmark is obligated to maintain—on its own and on a continuous basis—the capacity to defend all its territory. By that standard, Denmark has failed to meet its Article 3 responsibilities for a very long time, if it ever has.

Despite its strategic importance, Greenland remains vulnerable and economically neglected. This is not an accident or a bureaucratic oversight. It is the result of a long-standing assumption—that the United States would indefinitely guarantee European sovereignty and sustain its social-economic model. That assumption no longer holds. Strategic competition is shifting away from open confrontation toward constant pressure, probing actions, and fait accompli. In this world, sovereignty is not something you can merely declare. It is something you must demonstrate.

Trump, Europe, and the Sovereignty Question

Trump’s narrative about Greenland was widely dismissed as transactional or unserious. Stripped of tone, however, the message was structural: As the Arctic presents opportunity, Greenland is even more strategically vital to North American security than ever before, and someone must take responsibility for securing and developing it.

This tension among NATO allies reflects a broader post–Cold War pattern. Europe expanded its regulatory, economic, and political influence while allowing NATO military funding and capability to atrophy. The resulting system elevated process, norms, and legalism over hard power security, sovereignty, and deterrence.

The renewed United States demand for Greenland exposes the limits of that model. If Denmark cannot even mount a minimal defense of its own territory, the problem is not American overreach, but European credibility.

The UK Corollary

In a striking act of geopolitical idealism, the United Kingdom has agreed to cede sovereignty over Diego Garcia to Mauritius—an “own goal” that harms US interests. Long regarded as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier,” Diego Garcia has been a cornerstone of US and UK power projection across the Middle East, East Africa, South Asia, and beyond for decades.

After years of legal and diplomatic pressure—culminating in adverse rulings from international courts and the United Nations—the UK concluded that continued unilateral control of the Chagos Archipelago was politically unsustainable in this rules-based international order. In 2024, London agreed to transfer sovereignty to Mauritius, a state increasingly influenced by Beijing, while attempting to preserve military access through a long-term, UK-funded lease.

On paper, operations continue. Leverage shifts from occupant to owner. Sovereignty matters: once surrendered, access rests on political permission rather than power. A future Beijing-aligned Mauritius could abrogate agreements or revoke leases, leaving the US and UK strategically stranded, “out of runway” and out of business in the Indian Ocean.

Like Diego Garcia, Greenland’s strategic value lies in assured access. Trusting that allies will always act in America’s best interest is folly. Access without ownership is always conditional; sovereignty without power is fragile. Both cases reveal the same risk—vital territory left exposed at a moment when great-power competition demands clarity, presence, and resolve.

Sovereignty Requires Adequate Organic Defense

Defending Greenland does not require national militarization on Cold War terms. It does not require large permanent formations or aggressive posturing. But it does require capability, presence, and integration of real forces tied to real geography. The fantasy of the [European] Liberal [global] Rules-based order is no longer sufficient alone.

A credible defense posture requires permanent ground, air, and naval forces. Presence must be sufficient to assert territorial control, secure the Arctic approaches, and protect key infrastructure. Additionally, it requires fifth-generation airpower, supported by NATO enablers sufficient to project air sovereignty and assert control over the airspace of the GIUK, along with integrated maritime and subsurface awareness to control approaches, advanced air and missile defense for critical nodes, and the logistics infrastructure required to sustain operations in an Arctic environment.

This is not an escalation; it is the minimum viable defense posture for the territory Denmark claims sovereignty over, NATO depends upon, and the Western Hemisphere demands. Anything less than that is not restraint; it is abdication.

What Denmark Can Do

For Denmark to retain its kingdom, it must fervently acknowledge that China and Russia are expanding their Arctic ambitions and that continuing to ignore or neglect this threat risks losing Greenland to another great power’s orbit. Denmark does not need to defend Greenland alone, but it must lead and meet its Article 3 responsibilities. Sovereignty cannot be subcontracted. First, Denmark must accept that a visible, persistent presence is non-negotiable. A battalion-sized force and a fighter squadron on Greenlandic soil are not a burden; they are a declaration of responsibility.

Second, Denmark must align force posture with geography. Arctic defense is not a side mission; it is central to Denmark’s strategic responsibilities and credibility. That requires prioritizing basing, sustainment, and readiness over symbolic deployments there or elsewhere.

Third, Denmark must integrate defense with economic development. Resource extraction, energy production, and infrastructure are not separate from security; they are its foundation. Without an economic base, defense remains episodic and less affordable. For the collective West, energy and critical element security is national security. If Denmark cannot execute these steps—even with allied support—then sovereignty is no longer exercised; it is merely asserted.

How Europe Can Contribute Without Posturing

Greenland offers Europe an opportunity to demonstrate what regional shared deterrence looks like. Contributions need not be equal in scale, but they must be meaningful in effect. Rotational air defense units, maritime patrol aircraft, icebreaking capacity, logistics support, and infrastructure investment tied directly to defense requirements would materially strengthen deterrence without grandstanding.

This is where Europe’s economic power must finally align with its strategic claims. Shared deterrence is not about symbolism or declarations. It is about complementary capability and sustained commitment.

Can Europe Move Fast Enough?

The decisive variable is time. Ten-year roadmaps and aspirational targets are irrelevant. Greenland’s exposure is immediate. The longer Europe delays, the more it reinforces the perception that sovereignty exists only on paper. Delay only serves to validate President Trump’s strategic demand.

Credible deterrence must begin within weeks, not months or years. Initial deployments need not be perfect, but they cannot be symbolic political statements devoid of the credible military capacity required for the mission. They need to be visible, permanent, and expandable.

The Consequences of Failure

Failure in Greenland would reverberate far beyond the Arctic. If Denmark cannot defend Greenland with allied assistance, then European claims of strategic autonomy collapse and NATO’s credibility fractures geographically. The United States will either act unilaterally or disengage selectively. Resource development will proceed without European leverage. Most damaging of all, failure would confirm a lesson Europe can no longer afford: that idealism and process cannot substitute for balance-of-power realism, and that international norms cannot enforce themselves. Where previous US presidential administrations relied on alliances, basing agreements, and quiet influence, President Trump has framed the issue in transactional terms: if Greenland was strategically vital, someone had to take responsibility for securing and developing it.

Conclusion

Greenland is not a crisis invented in Washington. It is the result of allied neglect and free riding. Persistent underinvestment in defense, miscalculation of threats, and a readiness among many allies to subordinate their sovereignty to international norms have produced a growing crisis of confidence in the United States. This can only be reversed with real power projection and a NATO commitment to peace through strength.

Denmark does not need to match American power. It needs to demonstrate agency, urgency, and empathy. Denmark and greater NATO must listen to its most powerful ally and address its security concerns with great alacrity. Rather than escalating the rhetoric, Denmark should admit its negligence and mitigate the shortfall now. Europe does not need to replace the United States or drive it out of the alliance. It needs to stop pretending that sovereignty is cost-free or that it can be reliably substituted with treaties in perpetuity.

This President demands more of the alliance to defend America’s northern approaches. If Denmark and the rest of NATO cannot meet that demand, the United States will. What is being asked is reasonable. The Arctic is now NATO’s second front. If Europe cannot meet that demand here, it has become sovereignty insolvent and should stop speaking of autonomy elsewhere. Because in the end, reality does not respond to intention, only to real and persistent power.

Col (Ret.) Kirk Fansher is a senior fellow at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies. Col (Ret.) Curtis McGiffin is vice president of education at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies. Views expressed by the authors are their own.

Can Denmark Defend Greenland from Trump? was originally published on Global Security Review.