As world order frays and old alliances falter, the search is on for new solutions to stabilise the international system while preserving at least some of the principles and aspects of the outgoing dispensation that have served Western powers well since the Second World War. The problem facing statesmen today is not simply practical – that is, related to the changing balance of power, especially in military terms, and the emergence of Tripolarity. An additional and perhaps more important challenge is the intellectual, or even philosophical, foundations which should underlie the next iteration of a global political architecture for peace and security.
In the modern world, at least, any such “system” requires some legitimising and organising principle at its core, in order to be viable for any significant period of time. The post-Napoleonic Vienna system was grounded in the idea of sovereign equality and restoration or preservation of traditional monarchies. After the First World War “collective security” combined with national self-determination to provide a new basis for world order, which failed. The post-1945 world introduced the UN system as a source of legitimacy, with the special authority of the veto-wielding “permanent five” members of the UN Security Council. Of course, in practical terms stability derived not from P5 consensus but from containment and nuclear deterrence – but the UN and the “international community” were a crucial factor in the political and strategic calculations of the two superpowers in an age of acute ideological confrontation.
After the fall of the Soviet Union the authority of the UN and the system of “rules” was challenged including by the victors themselves, from Kosovo to Iraq. The consequences were not dramatic, from a systemic point of view, during America’s “unipolar moment” because it was the sheer hegemonic weight of the United States, acting usually in concert with its Western allies, which kept the overall peace and provided a sense of order – indeed, for a while, even an illusion that history had ended. With the return of great power competition from around 2014, the underlying erosion of the legitimising principle of the UN-centred post-1945 order only accelerated. Now the process is effectively complete and the system has defaulted back to a quasi-“natural state” of a balance of sorts based purely on power, in various forms, still mapped, for now, largely on the vestiges of the last order. The question of legitimacy may no longer be of any interest to anyone, but this can only be temporary; it will require an answer if any kind of stable equilibrium is to eventually emerge over the coming years.
It is in this context that the notion of “middle powers working together” is now being considered in different quarters, and most recently in Mark Carney’s Davos speech last month. While the Canadian prime minister didn’t quite call – for now at least – for the creation of some new formal grouping of mid-rank nations that can stand up to the US, China and Russia, that is the end-logic of his argument. And it is a perfectly valid vision of how these secondary states can navigate a post-rules world dominated by two or three (in our case) major powers. The Nonaligned Movement during the Cold War was a response to precisely such a dilemma, although its members were largely Third World countries whereas now we are talking mostly about advanced Western or Western-aligned economies.
The idea of a “middle” balancing between two (or three) poles is simply common sense, and part of the basic options within the “geometry” of international relations. The real difficulty, of course, is deciding exactly how that middle grouping should be structured, and what its own rules and aims should be. Simply calling for “more coordination” between like-minded nations won’t achieve much. To have a real impact and to contribute to the edification of a genuine new world order, any formal “consortium” of middle powers must be more than a kind of “labour union” of the international society of nations seeking better terms from the major powers: It must also propose a coherent systemic conception of global stability together with a convincing idea of its own ability to play a positive role in it.
All key questions about this potential new middle grouping are subsumed to main issue of its membership. How many members, and what criteria for inclusion? The members list would inevitably define the nature of this initiative – whether it is to be some kind of pragmatic trade syndicate, a limited security-first association aiming at new forms of common defence, or something wider, with ambitions for shaping a “third way” (or fourth, in a Tripolar world) and putting forward a compelling new civilisational concept that can compete with the Tier-One powers outright.
The problem is that the conversation got off on the wrong foot. Carney’s speech was immediately decoded in most subsequent analyses as pointing at an opportunity for a new understanding between the “Global North” and the “Global South”, with the concept of “middle powers” seemingly interpreted through a worldwide-inclusivity lens – per the globalist spirit of our times. In other words, the expectation seems to be for a kind of G20 but without the US, China and Russia. Finally, the supreme irony of Carney’s speech, premised as it was on the resurgence of might over right, is precisely the fact that it was given by the prime minister of Canada – one of NATO’s traditional “delinquents”, i.e. a rich country that for years has failed to meet even its most basic, 2 per cent defence spending responsibilities within NATO, and is only now catching up even with that minimal number. If anything, Canada is the poster-child for the worst policy pathologies that have brought the West to its knees: Rampant welfarism, vast immigration, out of control wokerism, under-investment in defence, and so on. That Canada, of all nations, should now lead a new vision for anything in international relations would be utterly preposterous.
This leads to the most important point that should be taken into consideration in any serious discussions of a middle powers grouping: The number one criterion for membership, alongside overall economic strength, should be military power and the intensity of rearmament policies. The latter should be intended as a way to measure how serious a nation is about defence and the sacrifices it is already making in that regard – described in defence spending as a percentage of GDP but also per capita.
Aside from economics and defence there are two other factors that should frame the selection for such a “consortium”. The first is the overall size of the membership. Too small and it will lack heft – G7 can pull it off (even without Russia or China at the table) but an M7 would not be enough; too large, like G20 or the EU, and it will become unwieldy. The optimal number of members appears, subjectively, to be about a dozen in this case – yielding an “M12”.
The final factor is the qualitative nature of the membership. The immediate tendency of most analysts to automatically assume that the “Global South” must be represented has already been noted. What in fact would make more sense and increase the viability and functionality of an M12 construct is if it was actually a subset of Western democracies which are already tied by shared alliances, principles, sometimes histories, and often culture. The Global South is free to organise itself however it wants, if it can; but it will be likely up to the Western middle powers to try to provide the main, organised counterpoint to the three militarily dominant countries of the new tripolar era.
Judging by our four criteria – economic potential, martial potential as a combination between military capacity and rearmament intent, a 12-seat membership, and a Western-style democratic outlook — an M12 would include a number of countries which are obviously suitable plus a few which might be a bit more controversial for this list. The most interesting category would comprise of those left out, and on this point it is well worth having a debate on at a separate occasion.
The full M12 list would count, in GDP order, the following: Germany, Japan, the UK, France, South Korea, Australia, the Netherlands, Poland, Sweden, Israel, Norway and Denmark. A few explanations are in order.
Presumably there would be some surprise at the inclusion of Israel, given the political complications around it, and Norway and Denmark given their smaller sizes. But Israel is obviously an asset for its military prowess, and in the world that we’re heading into that holds enormous weight; political leaders need to reassess their priorities and attitudes towards Israel and think more imaginatively about what might become possible with Tel Aviv as part of an M12 club.
Meanwhile, Norway and Denmark make it onto the last two places on the list courtesy of their defence spending per capita rates (roughly $2,050 and $1,650 respectively) which are higher than those for any other nation on the list except Israel ($5,350), and which are a strong indicator of military commitment. Meanwhile, Japan registers the lowest such rate, of only $450, much below other countries that have not made the list; on the other hand, Japan compensates through the overall size of its military and economy.
Finland falls right below the mark; despite its strong military efforts and martial culture ($1,350 in defence spending per capita, same as Australia and the UK), it is ultimately kept off the list by its limited economic heft – as is the case with the Baltic nations. The M12 discussed here would not simply be a military alliance but a geopolitical project that must be optimised for mixed military and economic potential.
Aside Finland, there are three glaring absences from this exercise in middle power group selection: Canada, Italy and Spain. All are rich, advanced economies with considerable overall defence budgets, which often feature in the same ranks as France or Germany. But that is precisely the point with M12: The purpose of such a new forum – or even organisation, eventually – can only be geopolitical effectiveness and membership must reward real merit and capability, not simply “traditional status”. In the years ahead demonstrable commitment to military power and martial virtues matter more than mere (often inflated) budget or GDP numbers. All these countries have undershot the NATO mark for many years, and all three are situated far from major threats and flashpoints. Their understanding of threats – especially from Russia – is different, less urgent (with a slight difference for Canada), and this is what accounts for their reduced dedication to defence compared to others. Finally, their rates of defence spending per capita are lower than those of every other country on the M12 list except Japan.
In final analysis, for any grouping of middle powers to be worthwhile and successful, it must be functional – in the sense of its members having if not the same shared interests, then at least the same level of willingness and energy to act, and the same demonstrable appreciation of the threats. This is also why it would not be appropriate to include (democratic) countries from South America or Africa: these are entirely different and arguably self-contained strategic geographies with different sets of great power interests and threats bearing on them.
To bring them into M12 alongside the kind of members already mentioned would invite dysfunction – not to mention the perception of a direct challenge to the US as regards South America. Israel and the three Pacific-side countries (Japan, South Korea and Australia) are different: Israel is located in Europe’s wider strategic perimeter and has a special significance to Christendom, while the Atlantic and the Pacific are now geostrategically linked. Finally, India is a special but hard to define case: A major power and a democracy, but one which always avoids clear commitments to any “camp” and keeps its options open; Delhi would likely not join M12 even if invited.
Mark Carney may have been the wrong leader to talk of middle powers working together for real strategic advantage, but the idea is valid and his choice of timing and venue was correct. It is patently obvious that there is now a pressing need for new solutions and creative thinking as the global chessboard is being rearranged, or indeed turned over. A coherent, functional new group of middle powers can work – it can achieve meaningful results and perhaps become a beacon of stability in a world gone awry – if it is designed from the start for optimal functionality and effectiveness, and kept to no more than about a dozen member states with no “extra seats” for the various “presidents” of the EU, etc. If anything, the strongest play for an initiative such as M12 would be to subordinate the EU to its purposes, which would be to the benefit of all concerned.
The basic metrics of an M12 in the configuration outlined here only support the proposition: Such a “consortium” of states would amount to some 20 per cent of world GDP and roughly 80 per cent of America’s GDP. In defence spending terms, the M12 would be over half of US defence outlays, and significantly more (in nominal terms) than either Russia or China. Furthermore, rough estimates suggest that the combined M12 would command about a quarter of the total global trade, and would draw level with China as a share of global manufacturing output.
A great deal could be achieved by a well-coordinated middle-powers group in the years to come, but such an endeavour requires strong leadership and visionary statesmen that can carry their defeatist and often low-energy bureaucracies with them. If there is going to be a new “moment of creation” of another world order in the coming years, it is likely that one of the building blocks will consist of something akin to an M12. Why not?
Four scenarios for the post-rules world