NATO Must Pivot East — Or Risk Irrelevance

MIHAI RAZVAN UNGUREANU WRITES: History is littered with alliances that failed to adapt. As NATO convenes for its summit, it must reorient to the east, where threats are real and commitments strongest.

By Mihai Razvan Ungureanu and Dan Perry

For all the debates about NATO's transformation in the post-Cold War era, one truth has gone largely unspoken: the alliance was always, at its core, a North-South enterprise. During the Cold War, the operational spine of NATO ran from Germany in the north to Italy in the south. That axis represented the heart of NATO's defensive posture, where the alliance was most militarily integrated, politically coherent, and geographically relevant. It made sense in a world where the central front was in Central Europe, and the threat was the Warsaw Pact advancing through the Fulda Gap.

But the Cold War ended and the world has changed, and recent years’ events should be enough to focus the mind: The geographic logic of defense should shift east. This should be the focus of NATO’s efforts today, and of the upcoming NATO summit that begins June 24.

In theory, NATO's center of gravity ought to long ago have migrated toward the Baltics in the north and Bulgaria in the south, extending the alliance's spine to meet the new frontlines of security. Yet more than three decades after the fall of the Berlin Wall, that reorientation has never fully occurred.

Instead, NATO’s strategic culture and political leadership remain stubbornly Western. Brussels, Berlin, Paris, and Washington continue to set the tone, even as the most serious threats — and the most committed actors — now lie along the eastern frontier. Poland, Romania, the Baltic states, and more recently Finland, are the countries that actually live under the shadow of Russian aggression. They are the ones who spend meaningfully on defense, who push hardest for deterrence, and who understand the stakes not as academic abstractions but as lived geopolitical realities.

And this is not new. A century ago, in 1921, Poland and Romania signed a military alliance to jointly deter the expansionist threat of Soviet Bolshevism — an effort endorsed by Britain and France, which saw the two countries as a buffer zone to contain chaos emanating from the East. That alliance, though long forgotten by many, reveals a strategic continuity: then as now, Eastern Europe stood at the frontline of civilizational defense.

So we propose an overdue adjustment: to realign the alliance’s effective strategic spine along a new North-South axis — from Finland through the Baltics and Poland, down through Romania and Bulgaria, and ideally to include Turkey, despite its political unreliability. And Greece, which has long served as a vital NATO anchor in the Eastern Mediterranean, should be recognized as part of this reoriented axis — both for its strategic geography and its steady commitment to collective defense. This is not just about deployments or exercises, but about infrastructure, leadership, investment, and influence. In short, it is about a transfer of strategic gravity.

The Missed Opportunity

In the 1990s and 2000s, as NATO expanded eastward, there was much rhetoric about integrating new members and adapting to the post-Soviet security environment. Yet that integration often proved superficial. Military command structures remained concentrated in the West. Large-scale exercises continued to focus on Western logistics and coordination. Eastern members were often treated as peripheral outposts, useful buffers, or junior partners—rather than co-equal stakeholders in shaping NATO’s future.

The failure to fully embrace a Baltic-to-Bulgaria axis has had real consequences. It has left Eastern allies vulnerable to hybrid warfare, such as the cyberattacks on Estonia in 2007 or the weaponization of migration on Poland’s border with Belarus. It has allowed Russia to probe and exploit the alliance’s hesitancy. And it has deepened the sense that NATO is divided between a Western core and an Eastern periphery, rather than functioning as a unified whole.

What a Real Realignment Looks Like

A true North-South spine along the Eastern flank would require several key changes.

First, it means Western financial support for Eastern fortification. Countries like Poland, Romania, and the Baltics are already spending above the 2% GDP threshold on defense. According to NATO’s 2024 figures, Poland spent around 3.9% of its GDP on defense, while Estonia spent 3.4%, Latvia 2.4%, and Lithuania 2.8%. Romania reached 2.5%, and Bulgaria is climbing toward the benchmark. In contrast, countries like Portugal (1.4%) and Belgium (1.1%) continue to fall short. This imbalance creates a two-speed alliance—one where the front-line states bear the brunt of deterrence while others benefit without equal sacrifice.

These are smaller economies with major security responsibilities. The strain on local budgets is real, and defense is expensive. Beyond troop readiness, modern deterrence requires extensive infrastructure: hardened air bases, missile defenses, command centers, logistics corridors, and cyber response capabilities. These costs should not be borne by Eastern states alone.

If Portugal and the Netherlands enjoy the security guarantees of NATO, it is only fair they contribute meaningfully to the hardening of the frontier states. That includes direct investment in shared deterrence capabilities and subsidizing permanent deployments. This isn’t just solidarity—it’s strategic prudence.

Second, it requires a redistribution of leadership influence. The Eastern frontline states must have more say in NATO’s strategic direction, planning, and posture. This is not just a matter of fairness—it is a matter of efficacy. These are the countries that take the Russian threat most seriously. They are the ones who know that Russian aggression is not theoretical—it is kinetic, cyber, psychological, and political. And yet, decision-making power remains disproportionately concentrated in capitals far removed from the threat.

Third, it demands deepened regional integration among Eastern members. Finland and the Baltics already cooperate closely. Poland has become the lynchpin of NATO logistics. Romania and Bulgaria must step up as anchors of Southern deterrence. And yes, Turkey—despite its unpredictability and Erdogan’s geopolitical gamesmanship—should be part of the conversation. Geography and history demand it. So does Russia’s clear ambition to dominate the Black Sea and ultimately gain freer access to the Eastern Mediterranean. And again, Greece’s role is pivotal—not only as a bulwark on NATO’s southeastern flank, but as a counterweight to Turkish unpredictability. It strengthens the case for a cohesive Eastern arc stretching from Scandinavia to the Aegean.

Fourth, it means recognizing hybrid warfare as a central pillar of defense, not a sideshow. The eastern flank is not just at risk from tanks and missiles, but from cyberattacks, political subversion, energy coercion, and demographic manipulation through forced migration. Russia has already tested these tools: Estonia’s 2007 cyber blackout; Belarus’s attempt to flood Poland and Lithuania with illegal migrants in 2021; disinformation campaigns in the Balkans. These threats must be treated as seriously as traditional kinetic threats, and Eastern frontline states must be resourced accordingly with digital resilience and border integrity.

From Military Hardware to Real Deterrence

The West often sends symbolic hardware or participates in joint exercises — but deterrence today requires more. NATO must move from performative displays to permanent infrastructure. A real shift means joint command facilities in the east, real-time intelligence fusion centers, missile defense networks, and an institutional commitment to defend—not just visit—the front lines.

“Military hardware to military exercise” is not enough. What Eastern flank nations demand is political security and investment-backed deterrence. They ask for guarantees not just in principle but in steel, software, and soldiers on the ground. Without that, the credibility of Article 5 suffers.

This is not tactics but a matter of strategic philosophy. During the Cold War, NATO’s philosophy was shaped by a bipolar world: contain the Soviet Union, defend West Germany, maintain transatlantic unity. The North-South axis from Germany to Italy reflected a central European battleground.

Today, the threats are diffuse and multidimensional—but overwhelmingly sourced from the East. And yet the alliance’s strategic posture remains stuck in the past. The philosophy must shift from Western-centric risk management to Eastern-centric threat response. In the old NATO, frontline states were defended by consensus built in London, Paris, or Washington. In the new NATO, frontline states must help lead that consensus.

This evolution reflects a broader truth: NATO is only as strong as its most vulnerable flank. If the Baltic states fall, if Romania or Poland is destabilized, the alliance’s entire credibility collapses. It’s not about favoritism; it’s about realism. So we call on the Western members of NATO to move beyond Cold War inertia and embrace a new paradigm in which power and responsibility are redistributed based on current realities, not historical legacy.

Some will argue this threatens cohesion. In fact, it does the opposite. By elevating the voices and priorities of the Eastern flank, NATO can rebuild credibility where it matters most. It can demonstrate that it is not just a club of Western nations with Eastern dependencies, but a truly integrated security alliance that adapts to the threat landscape.

The North-South spine that once ran from Germany to Italy served its purpose well. It helped contain the Soviet threat and preserved peace in Europe for decades. But that spine now needs to shift. Today’s threat runs not through the Alps, but along the Suwałki Gap. The frontlines are in Siauliai, Rzeszow, Constanta, and Varna—not Stuttgart or Naples.

If NATO wants to remain relevant and resilient in the 21st century, it must evolve. That means investing, listening, and leading from the places that matter most. It means building a new strategic axis — from the forests of Finland to the Black Sea coast of Bulgaria — that reflects where the battle for Europe’s security is now being waged.

History is unkind to alliances that fail to evolve. The Triple Alliance of Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy collapsed under the weight of divergent interests when World War I broke out. The Triple Entente – the alliance between Great Britain, France and Russia – survived the war but entered it unprepared, hobbled by vague commitments and delayed coordination. The Baghdad Pact of 1955, designed to contain Soviet influence in the Middle East, disintegrated within a decade as its members pursued conflicting agendas and public support eroded. Even the Warsaw Pact, NATO’s Cold War counterpart, collapsed not in war but in irrelevance once the ground shifted beneath it.

The 1921 Polish–Romanian alliance against Bolshevism offers another cautionary tale: its bold vision was validated by history, but its failure to secure lasting Western support limited its endurance. The lesson remains: alliances only succeed when their strategic priorities match the moment.

If NATO is to avoid a similar fate, it must act decisively:

• Shift real command and logistics infrastructure to the Eastern front.

• Establish permanent bases and missile defenses in the Baltic states, Poland, and Romania.

• Create a NATO-wide fund to subsidize frontline defense investments by smaller economies.

• Elevate Eastern voices in NATO’s strategic leadership and planning councils.

• Treat hybrid warfare — cyberattacks, disinformation, migration manipulation — as Article 5 issues where necessary.

In short: put the muscle where the danger is.

The spine that once ran from Germany to Italy served the alliance well in a different era. But today, deterrence must stretch from Finland’s forests to Bulgaria’s Black Sea coast. NATO’s future credibility will not be judged by historical nostalgia or internal harmony — but by whether it meets the moment.

Alliances endure only when they face forward. It’s time NATO turned east — with Germany upfront.

Mihai Razvan Ungureanu is the former prime minister and foreign minister of Romania, headed the country's external intelligence service, and is a professor of history at the University of Bucharest.

(This article was originally published in New Eastern Europe)