I am grateful for this opportunity and declare my interests as a reservist, the father of two servicewomen and the brother of a serving admiral.
Among the many issues that should be keeping Ministers awake at night are two tech-based conundrums that particularly worry me. One is future access to critical minerals and their products, which I have spoken about in the past. The other related issue is the patchy nature of the protection of these islands against missiles and drones. That is what I want to raise this evening.
Everything costs, and it is easy when one is not in government to wish the ends without the means. At the moment, defence is spread too thinly and what I am suggesting would spread it even more thinly. Whether the UK should be globally deployable or focus on the defence of the homeland and its Euro-Atlantic neighbourhood is moot. The likelihood is that we will soldier on, make do and mend—we always have. But the scene is set for the biggest retrenchment since Suez. I wish it were otherwise, but it falls to this Government to make the call. Their attempted unforced surrender of the Chagos islands is perhaps an indication of where their thinking lies.
In 1963, the 35th US President told his National Security Council that European NATO members were not paying their fair share. John F. Kennedy said,
“We have been very generous to Europe and it is now time for us to look out for ourselves”.
On Monday, the 45th and 47th President will likely be saying the same thing. Clearly, American frustration with Europe enjoying the insurance policy without paying the premium is nothing new. What is new is the American willingness to strong-arm Europe into changing its ways. Forget 2% or 2.5%—Trump says he wants 5% of GDP spent on defence by all NATO members, and here is the kicker: he wants a 20% tariff on all goods imported to the US. Combine the two and it is not a stretch to imagine him slapping tariffs on European goods unless Europeans step up to the plate.
Ultimately, the single most important reason Trump can do what we fear he is about to do is that America is no longer principally competing with Europe’s proximate threat—Russia. A vast but thinly populated nation of 144 million, a busted economy and a military whose weaknesses have been generously displayed for all to see since February 2022 is not perceived by Washington as a main threat. An America emerging from the 9/11 Bush counter-terrorism era is back to facing off with great powers once again, but the great power is not Russia; it is China.
As the US pivots, European states of all sizes must step up to defend their homeland and safeguard the north Atlantic. There are no free passes. Israel is a small state, but its military capabilities are unmatched in the middle east. Its layered missile defence systems—the famous Iron Dome, David’s Sling and Arrow—and its formidable fleet of aircraft demonstrate how small states, with a little help from their friends, can punch way above their weight. Several of those small states will provide the first line of defence against Putin’s Russia. The bulk of the cruise, ballistic and hypersonic missiles that Putin would fire at Britain as a proxy for the US will be intercepted by existing defence systems and fighter aircraft stationed in the Baltic states, the Czech Republic, Slovakia or Poland.
While our geography, as so often in our history, gives strategic depth and protection from long-range attack, we can have less confidence in dealing with proximate threats from sea and subsea platforms and with threats to deployed and overseas assets, such as Cyprus, that fall well within the scope of short-range missiles and drones from Russia, Iran and their proxies. In any event, some missiles directed at the homeland would get through in the event of a full-on attack right now by the Russian Federation. That has been our blind spot.
The public would expect that missiles evading the first line of integrated missile defence would be destroyed closer to their target. The Type 45-mounted Sea Viper and the ground-based Sky Sabre are exquisite examples of air and missile defence systems, but there are simply not enough of them—not enough missiles ready to go and not enough industrial capacity to enable resilience in anything more than the very short term. Russia’s war on Ukraine has helpfully made us alive to our vulnerability. Russia, as we have seen in Ukraine and throughout its history, is capable of taking long-term pain in a way that it seems unlikely we would. As things stand, the capital is particularly vulnerable to Russian missile attack, unless we park all our Type 45s—those that are operational—on the Thames.
Happily, unlike Israel and Ukraine, we are surrounded by friends. It makes sense to be a full part of, and a contributor to, NATO integrated air and missile defence, but European IAMD, and its suppression and destruction of enemy air defence systems, are currently completely reliant on the US. In any event, the suspicion is that a full-on attack by Russia right now would find too many holes in the patchy architecture that has evolved to protect against missiles.
Germany has recognised that threat; it has owned the consequences of doing nothing. It has established the European Sky Shield initiative, and has begun procuring trusted systems such as Patriot and Arrow 3. The UK has been considering joining ESSI. Where are we with that? What about off-the-shelf systems such as Arrow 3?