I’m convinced that this is nonsense, and I feel vindicated
when I see the extent to which these countries' militaries collaborate in the
high North. From last week's meeting of all eight Arctic nations' military top
brass (excepting only the US; we were represented by General Charles Jacoby,
head of NORAD and USNORTHCOM) to Russia-Norway collaboration on search &
rescue; from US-Canada joint military exercises to US-Russia shared research in
the Barents...no matter where you look, the arc of this relationship bends
towards cooperation.
But there's a bigger misconception that underlies the
predictions of future Arctic conflict that we read every week. This is the
(usually) unspoken assumption that the governments of these states are capable
of acting quickly, unilaterally and secretly to pursue their interests in the
Arctic. False.
This idea that some state might manage a political or
military smash-and-grab while the rest of us are busy clipping our fingernails
or walking the dog is ridiculous. The overwhelming weight of evidence suggests
that the governments of the Arctic states are, like most massive organizations,
bureaucratic messes. Infighting between federal agencies is rampant all around,
as are political shoving matches between federal and state/provincial/regional
governments. Money is still scarce, and chatter about military activism isn’t
backed up by much: Canada is engaged in a sad debate over the downgrading of the proposed Nanisivik port; the United States’ icebreaker fleet is barely
worth mentioning and shows little sign of new life in the near-term future; US
Air Force assets are being moved 300+ miles south from Fairbanks to Anchorage; and Russia’s talk about a greater Arctic presence has been
greatly inflated for the sake of the recent elections. In a more general sense,
we have viciously polarized governments in the US and, to a lesser extent,
Canada, as well as numerous “hotter” wars elsewhere that will take the lion’s
share of our blood and treasure before the Arctic gets a drop of either.
The smaller states might be able to act more nimbly, but
Norway and Denmark are successful Scandinavian social-market economies with
modestly-sized militaries who aren’t likely to put military adventurism in the
Arctic at the top of their to-do lists. They’re also patient decision-makers
who are making apparently sincere (if not always successful) efforts to
incorporate their resident indigenous communities into national politics. This
makes fast, unilateral, secret action unlikely.
And then there is Russia. From the outside, it can often
seem as though the Russian government rules by fiat. This reasonably leads to
the concern that someone might take it into his head to assert Russia’s
military might or otherwise extend the country’s sovereignty in the Arctic. But
it is fairly clear that Russia’s success is currently, and for the near-term
future, dependent on its position within the constellation of global
hydrocarbon suppliers. To continue to develop its supply base, Russia needs the
assistance of the oil majors of neighboring states, and indeed it is showing signs of warming up to foreign engagement with
its Arctic hydrocarbons in significant ways. Its political relationships with
its regular customers are also critical to its future success. Russia isn’t
likely to wantonly sour those relationships by acting aggressively against all
four of its wealthy, well-networked littoral brothers in Europe and North
America.
It’s not only the handcuffs of many colors worn by the
Arctic states that will keep them from getting aggressive, it is also the good
precedents that exist for cooperation here. Russia and Norway recently resolved
a forty year-old dispute over territory in the Barents. There are regular
examples of military cooperation among the four littoral NATO states and
between Norway and Russia. Even the US and Russia are finding opportunities to work together. Meanwhile, the
need to develop search-and-rescue capabilities is making cross-border
cooperation a necessity for all Arctic actors. There are numerous international
research and private-sector ventures, even in areas other than hydrocarbons.
These will only grow in importance with time. In fact, it would seem that for
many of these countries, the Arctic is a welcome relief - a site where
international collaboration is comparatively amicable.
But there is indeed a competition underway in the Arctic. It
isn’t between states; it is the competition between categories of actors to set
norms and precedents that, though unwritten, will guide the development of the
region. We see this competition in the complicated jockeying between states,
indigenous organizations, the Arctic Council itself, academia, military
coalitions (e.g. NATO), extractive industries and environmental groups, among
others. The central prize is neither oil, nor data, nor pristine wilderness but
instead the privilege of deciding which issues enjoy the sunlight of attention
and which are dealt with quietly in the shadows. Many venues exist already for
debate and conflict resolution, but who will decide which issues make it onto
the docket in these venues? Perhaps more importantly, who will get to decide
what the public hears and learns to care about? It may be that, for the moment,
the hydrocarbon industry is doing a good job of pressing its suit. Its
victories set precedents for elsewhere in the Arctic, but they also imply
suboptimal outcomes for other classes of actors, who will be adapting and
innovating to better press their cases in different venues and through different
channels.
There are many Arctic issues already settled by UNCLOS and
other legal regimes. But there are also numerous issues yet to be resolved, and
the letter of existing law is rarely so iron-clad that there is no room for
interpretation. As the North becomes the focus of increasing interest, which
category of actor will be writing the rules? Time will tell.
