Samuel Press
As NATO gathers in The Hague, it faces a test of strategic imagination: adapt to a world of simultaneous crises, or drift toward symbolic irrelevance.
When NATO leaders convene in The Hague on June 24–25, 2025, the summit will mark more than just the Alliance’s seventy-sixth anniversary. It will be the first NATO summit presided over by Secretary-General Mark Rutte and attended by U.S. President Donald J. Trump during his second term. While the symbolism of the Dutch venue—long associated with legal order—carries weight, the substance of the agenda is far more consequential.
For Washington, this summit is no mere ceremonial gathering. It represents a strategic audit: an opportunity to assess whether NATO can operate effectively in a multipolar, multi-domain security environment. The geopolitical backdrop is stark—an assertive Iran testing Western resolve in the Gulf, a revanchist Russia intensifying its campaign in Ukraine, and an emboldened China challenging maritime boundaries in the Indo-Pacific.
The most immediate flashpoint comes from the Middle East. On May 15, Iran-backed militias launched a drone attack near Erbil in northern Iraq. While no American casualties were reported, the incident highlighted a persistent problem: NATO’s collective defense commitments do not extend to forward-deployed forces outside the Euro-Atlantic region.
This “southern frontier needle”—stretching from the Levant to the Strait of Hormuz—represents a vulnerability that adversaries like Iran can exploit without crossing NATO soil. A temporary closure of Hormuz, for example, could drive oil prices above $120 per barrel, triggering global inflation and domestic political pressures across allied capitals. In this context, allowing geography to dictate solidarity is no longer a luxury Washington believes NATO can afford.
The current limitations of NATO’s founding treaty are not theoretical—they are codified in Article 6, which confines Article 5’s collective defense provisions to Europe, North America, and select territories. While cyber and space attacks have been acknowledged as potential triggers for Article 5 since 2021, there remains no explicit update to the treaty language itself.This gap is increasingly untenable. Hybrid threats—from cyberattacks on energy infrastructure to proxy militia violence—challenge NATO’s deterrent posture. Washington is pushing for greater clarity and consensus: an updated interpretation of Article 5 that includes large-scale cyber operations, hostile acts from outer space, and state-directed proxy violence.
One of the most pivotal actors at this summit is Turkey. Host to the Kürecik early-warning radar that supports NATO’s missile defense network, Turkey occupies a unique position—simultaneously indispensable and unpredictable.
Under President Erdoğan, Ankara has deepened its energy and defense ties with Russia, while continuing to bargain over NATO operations and posture. The United States has previously attempted to influence Turkish behavior through military incentives—Patriot PAC-3 systems, F-16 upgrades, and industrial co-production offers. No such formal package has been confirmed for 2025, but discussions about conditional defense offsets remain part of Washington’s broader diplomatic calculus.
U.S. negotiators arrive in The Hague with an ambitious five-part framework intended to align the Alliance with 21st-century realities:
Though some elements are well-rooted in ongoing policy conversations—especially the shift toward output metrics and cyber defense—the overall package remains aspirational rather than institutionalized.
The rhetoric surrounding U.S. commitments is significant, but the budgetary realities are more nuanced. The FY2025 National Defense Authorization Act authorizes over $880 billion in total defense spending, but it does not contain a standalone “triple-front deterrence” fund or a $4 billion Title III co-production program.
While the U.S. has dramatically ramped up munitions production and industrial resilience, particularly for 155mm shells and Patriot interceptors, these efforts are being pursued through dispersed line items, not the consolidated initiatives often cited in political discourse.
NATO was born in an era when threats were physical, borders were fixed, and wars began with declarations. Today’s threats are decentralized, asymmetric, and often unattributed. From satellite jamming and energy sabotage to cyber intrusions and unmanned drone swarms, NATO’s deterrent posture must evolve—or risk erosion from the periphery.
The summit at The Hague offers an inflection point. Will NATO members collectively embrace modernization, share burdens more equitably, and expand the definition of collective defense to match the times? Or will they preserve the forms of solidarity while forfeiting the substance?
For Washington, the question is existential. The U.S. arrives with proposals in hand, industrial muscle to back them, and, if necessary, the willingness to act through coalitions of the capable. Whether its allies choose to walk alongside or behind will determine whether NATO remains the central nervous system of the West—or a Cold War relic of diminishing relevance.
