After the Rose Garden 7 - Defence
Introduction
Trump and his crew have shone a harsh light on European defence, showing it up as dysfunctional, all the way from boots on the ground through budgets to production capacity. For the thirty-five years since the Berlin Wall came down, the industry watchword has been consolidation, in Europe perforce across borders. We don’t have to be spooked about US kill switches to see this as due for reverse, with break-up and repatriation the new agenda.
Decision framework
Defence planners love to reduce chaos to command structures. It never altogether works, but let’s play along. First, political decision-makers need to order their thoughts. In our last post on foreign policy, we called for analysis of key national vulnerabilities to flush out strategic priorities, in concert with identifying those with whom to throw in.
This leads to joint staff and procurement by those concerned. The setting is unpromising: the UK’s fiscal constraints, set against the perennial bloody-mindedness of France and the spectre of German financial hegemony, demand that we wring every penny of value from defence spending. Monday’s reset paves the way for the UK to have at the EU’s €150bn defence fund. Meanwhile, the new agenda challenges the collaboration which cultivated economy at the cost of dependence on others, a perilous bargain in an era of fragile supply chains and resurgent great-power rivalry. This particularly applies to safeguarding our interests against US chokepoints and Chinese expansionism.
Shifting supplies
Since the 1950s, defence supply has revolved around fighter contracts, with each generation of aircraft doubling in unit cost. Sixth-generation fighters are budgeted at $300m per aircraft, turning the loss of a single plane into a consequential charge on the national accounts. Small wonder that planners are dwelling on the low-cost alternative of drones, together with shielding costly equipment from the heat of battle as “stand-off platforms”.
Planners take clues about tactical developments from combat. For three years, Ukraine has been the cockpit of drones, replacing scarce manpower, dominating the land battlefield and intruding upon long-range aerial offense. Recent skirmishes over Kashmir illustrated novel stand-off combinations, enabling Pakistan to deploy Chinese and Israeli technology to down some five jets (reports are contested), including France’s trophy fighter, Rafale, never before defeated in combat. China itself is experimenting energetically, with announcements earlier this week of test-flights of an airborne mother-ship releasing drone swarms.
Equipment dilemmas
Aircraft carriers remain the default stand-off platform, but at c$10bn a pop their vulnerability to hypersonic missiles, if not airborne or maritime drones, obliges planners to consider a future of dispersed, networked capacity. Out-of-area expeditions call for new cargo planes, but Europe lacks a high-wing, rear-loading aircraft capable of lifting 150 tons over 10,000km. Does the UK stick to Airbus, or revive domestic capacity at eye-watering cost? Combat, navigation and surveillance need a combination of high and low altitude satellites as well as Aerial Early Warning systems, all in sufficient number to survive combat losses, as well as hardened against electro-magnetic pulse and jamming and firewalled against hacking. None of this is yet to hand. The 6.5x jump in Eutelsat’s share price on 5 March shows that the market has got the picture.
Collaboration or autarky?
Military requirements call forth industrial capacity. The fundamentals of aircraft supply endure: airframes, engines and electronics. Rolls-Royce’s independence in engines is a rare bright spot for the UK; elsewhere, the hybrids of BAE Systems (airframes and electronics, with a “golden share” held by HMG, plus ring-fenced US interests) and Thales (French with substantial UK electronic interests) exemplify cross-border sprawl. If Britain attempts to carve out local elements from the latter, look out for fireworks from the Elysée Palace, still nettled almost four years after AUKUS blindsided French suppliers. Repatriating capacity and reintroducing competition will be neither easy nor tidy, but at this point outsourcing sovereignty is worse.
Conclusion
Spending must rise, borrowing is inevitable, the Treasury’s room for manoeuvre is slim and Berlin’s coffers loom large. The leadership customarily ceded by Berlin to Paris risks the joint European defence fund becoming a dirigiste project by stealth. Our own options need goosing up: the MOD’s Falklands-era agility proves rapid mobilisation is possible, with engineers flown out to upgrade kit on the southbound fleet. In the absence of crisis, however, inertia prevails. For the "liberal leadership" camp, joint procurements are a bridge to European strategic relevance. For the Singapore-on-Thames vision, they’re a snare. The former must navigate EU protectionism; the latter, the grim maths of going it alone. Either way, the MOD’s procurement machinery needs a kick-start - speed mustn’t be confined to wartime.
Next - series conclusion
Miles Saltiel