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Showing posts with label Journal Articles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Journal Articles. Show all posts

28 April 2012

The European Defence Agency and EU military space policy: Whose space odyssey?

TheEuropean Defence Agency and EU military space policy:

Whosespace odyssey?

by Iraklis Oikonomou

Published in (2012), Space Policy, 28, pp. 102-109.

I. Introduction

Given the material and ideational magnitude of EU space-related projects such as Galileo and the Global Monitoring for Environment and Security (GMES), it is probably a commonplace to suggest that space-related activities have strengthened both the capacity of the Union to act as a Union, and the public visibility and recognition of it. In fact, the question of the relationship between space policy and European identity has been explicitly addressed at conferences and publications.[i] Yet, despite the increasing awareness of the interrelatedness between space, military policy and the EU, there is a relative absence of the European Defence Agency (EDA) from the academic debates surrounding EU space policy. This is indeed surprising. Apart from becoming a hub for the management of armaments issues at the EU level, next to the European Commission’s involvement in defence equipment market, security research and aerospace, EDA has been increasingly fuelling attempts to develop and consolidate EU military-related space capabilities. Such initiatives include the Multinational Space-based Imaging System (MUSIS) and the European Satellite Communications Procurement Cell (ESCPC), as well as projects geared towards the development of critical space technologies.

What is exactly taking place at the crossroads of EDAand EU military space policy? How can EDA’s involvement be interpreted? Whatare the key sources and actors in the making of EDA space agenda? And how canthis agenda and involvement be theorised? This paper starts by providing ageneral account of the making and function of the Agency as an armaments policyinstitution. It then presents in detail the role of EDA in EU space affairs,documenting its increasing elevation to an EU space policy actor. Next, itdelineates the multiplicity of synergetic relations developed between theAgency and other space-related institutions at the EU level. The case forunderstanding EDA as a response to socio-economic rather than purely strategic considerationsis presented in the next section, which dissects the connection between theindustry and the Agency and demonstrates the continuity and depth of thispattern of synergy. Finally, a concluding section sums up the main findings ofthe study.

The argument here is the following: Every institutionhas a social purpose, i.e. a set of ‘deep’, long-term goals and functions thatneed to be fulfilled, and an institutional form, i.e. a set of specificinstitutional arrangements through which it is run. In EU military space policyintegration, the unity of institutional purpose is more significant than the potentialdifferentiation in the institutional form of EU actors. In order to understandthe making of EDA space policy, one has to turn from the intergovernmental formof the Agency – as opposed to the supranational Commission – to the actualsocio-economic purpose and content of that policy. In the face of risinginternationalization and competition as well as of declining budgets, EDA hasbeen accepted as a space policy actor because it is an essential tool for thebroadening of security and military-related market opportunities andapplications, directly benefiting the European space manufacturers. Theend-result of this process is a growing tendency towards militarisation of EUspace policy, through the formal participation of a military institution suchas EDA in the making of this policy. To the analysis of the basics of the Agencythe article now turns.

II. The European Defence Agency: Abrief overview

EDA was formally established by a Joint Action in 2004 and became fully operational in mid-2005.[ii] Essentially, this is the first truly EU-wide institution for the management of armaments affairs in the Union. The Agency’s 26 participating member states (pMS) include all EU member states except Denmark. The pMS are represented by officials from the Ministries of Defence; the supreme body at EDA is the Steering Board, composed of the defence ministers of each pMS plus a representative of the Commission without voting rights. The Head of the Agency is the EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy. Yet, day-to-day running is assigned to the Chief Executive, who is responsible for the coordination of all directorates. Work at EDA is organised around four directorates: Capabilities; Research & Technology; Armaments; and Industry & Market.

The Agency is largely run through intergovernmental mechanisms. It is funded from yearly contributions by the participating member states, rendering it ‘very much an instrument of those Member States which choose to participate in the Agency’.[iii] As Aris Georgopoulos has pointed out, the EDA is not the supervisory body of a unified EU arms market but a cooperative framework at the disposal of the member states.[iv] Its decision-making body is the Steering Board, consisting of one representative from each pMS at the level of Defence Minister and a representative of the Commission. Note that, apart from informal meetings, there was no formal venue for Defence Ministers’ consultation at the EU level prior to EDA.

Although it does not have voting rights, the Commission can formally participate in the Agency’s programmes and projects.[v] Despite all rhetoric over the link of EDA to ESDP capabilities, the Commission is represented at EDA by DG Enterprise instead of DG Relex. During the Council deliberations for the setting up of EDA, Chris Patten from DG Relex represented the Commission because the Joint Action was a second pillar instrument. Given that the activities of the Agency belong de facto to the first pillar – Research & Technology, public procurement, industrial policy – it was decided to move the point of contact of the Commission in EDA from DG Relex to DG Enterprise. Another reason was the provision of the failed Constitutional Treaty under which Javier Solana was to become responsible for DG Relex while being Head of the Agency. In 2004, it seemed safer for the Commission to have in the EDA someone from the first pillar and DG Enterprise, rather than risking an under-representation of the Commission by Solana’s double institutional hat. The result was to link more closely the arms industry with EDA via DG Enterprise, the DG most directly associated with the arms producers.

In the Steering Board, decisions are taken by qualified majority voting (QMV) requiring at least two thirds of the votes; QMV is used as little as possible and consensus is sought, but its existence still deviates from strict intergovernmentalism. There is also an ‘emergency break’ or ‘safety break’ clause, according to which a vote is not taken if a pMS expresses the intention to oppose a decision ‘for important and stated reasons of national policy’.[vi] In that case, the Council can issue guidelines to the Steering Board or decide itself, provided that the Steering Board decides by QMV to refer the matter to the Council. Either way, the Council acts by unanimity. The application of QMV, even if qualified, prevents as a rule the blocking of decision-making by a single pMS. This emphasis on effectiveness is reinforced by the provision of ad hoc projects and programmes without the uniform participation of every pMS. This allows interested parties, i.e. the big arms-producing states, to proceed with projects under the flag of EDA when other pMS are not involved, mirroring proposals for the application of structured cooperation in ESDP. The concept of flexible integration is all the more important when considering the diverging visions of what EDA should look like. The UK opted for a coordinating agency without central management while the French pursued a more ambitious vision of an agency with more resources and with the potential of becoming a centralised defence procurement agency for the EU.

EDA iscapabilities-oriented and, thus, project-oriented as well. Projects belong totwo categories: Category A and Category B. The former is initiated by one ormore pMS, or by the Agency’s Chief Executive and presumes participation of allmembers. The latter is also initiated by one or more pMS but does not presumeparticipation of all other members; it is simply open to them. In practice,Category A projects involve a large amount of participants while Category Bprojects are restricted to fewer contributors. MUSIS, the key space-related EDAproject, is a Category B one, and this is the type of projects that we shalldeal mostly with, for the purposes of this paper.

Experts play a key role inthe running of EDA through a number of channels. A primary venue for theirparticipation is CapTechs, i.e. networks of experts focusing on particulartechnologies. Their role is to propose research & technology initiatives,based on pre-existing capability gaps and needs, which can lead to concreteprojects. Experts also participate in Integrated Development Teams; theycontribute to the preparatory stages of Steering Board decisions, but theirmain role is to coordinate the work of Project Teams (PT). The latter are groupstasked with the preparation of all accompanying activities linked to the launchof a project, such as training and exercises, as well as with the articulationof the military requirement on which each project is based. PTs consist ofnational experts sharing an interest in a specific topic, assisted by EDAofficials and a pMS representative. Several PTs fall under the supervision of asingle Integrated Development Team. These acronyms may seem complicated, yetthey are extremely relevant to the topic at hand, given that certain PTs areespecially dedicated to space-related areas. This point takes us to theconcrete analysis of the involvement of EDA in space affairs.

III. The European Defence Agency andSpace

Space did not reach the agenda of EDA during the early years of its operations. In 2005, the Agency’s then Director of Research & Technology Bertrand de Cordoue admitted that space was not a top priority for the Agency.[vii] The first annual programme included four ‘flagship’ programmes, and none of these involved space as a field of application. The first one, undertaken by the Capabilities Directorate, focused on Command, Control and Communications systems; the second one by the R&T Directorate was a technology demonstration project for long-endurance Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAV); the third one by the Armaments Directorate investigated prospects for the convergence of requirements and production of the armoured fighting vehicle sector; and the fourth one, initiated by the Market & Industry Directorate dealt with the European Defence Equipment Market.[viii] Next to them, a number of ad hoc projects appeared, such as the initiative on the monitoring of air-to-air refuelling procurement options with the participation of ten countries. Space was absent from these ad hoc projects as well.

However, after six years of operations, the picture now is radically different. Even though analysts have been right to point out that the Agency’s “role in the development of specific ‘space’ applications is still awaiting concrete conclusions”,[ix] developments are impressive, not only in terms of discursive exercising but also in terms of practical policy engagement. The involvement of EDA in EU space policy can be divided into a) direct involvement in project development; b) involvement in collaborative projects; and c) involvement in the definition of strategic requirements and orientation.

To begin with, EDA has been home to the development of the MUSIS earth observation project. This was launched by six member states (France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Greece and Belgium). It is planned to provide a multinational space-based imaging system for surveillance, reconnaissance and observation, to replace existing national earth-observation systems after 2015-2017. Such systems include the French Helios II and Pleiades, the German SAR LUPE and the Italian Cosmo-Skymed. By hosting the project, the Agency seeks to assure that the next generation of military earth observation satellites will form a network, rather than be built independently; this, of course, involves the provision of a common design architecture for all future European earth observation satellite systems. In March 2009, MUSIS became an EDA Category B project and was open to participation of other EDA participating Member States.[x]

Earth observation and projects such as MUSIS belong to the broader theme of Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR). The depth of EDA’s interest in space is reflected in its decision to include ISR among the top ten priorities for capabilities development. In 2006, EDA awarded a contract to Thales for the Tactical Imagery Exploitation Station study, assessing the technological potential for interoperability between ISR systems and ground terminals. Additional contracts were awarded to Thales in 2007, in order to further test and demonstrate interoperability and compatibility issues between the EDA project and a similar NATO-led joint multi-sensor project.

Furthermore, EDA has provided its expertise to the maritime surveillance arm of the GMES. In November 2006, the Agency established a Project Team on Maritime Surveillance. Its mission was to establish the facts with respect to current assets and suggest options for future collaboration in the field of maritime surveillance, with special emphasis on collaboration with Frontex. In March 2008, the Agency called for the naval forces to identify a list of capabilities and tasked itself with ensuring that these needs and concerns would be taken into account in the shaping of GMES services and governance. At the same time, it delineated the possible spectrum of maritime surveillance missions, tasks and constraints.[xi] As shown by the European Space Policy Implementation Plan,[xii] EDA is more broadly in charge of identifying the requirements for GMES services dedicated to security users that fall within the context of ESDP, together with the Council, the Commission and the EU Satellite Centre.

The European Satellite Communication Procurement Cell (ESCPC) was launched in October 2009 as an EDA Ad Hoc Category B project. The participating states are France, Italy, the United Kingdom, Poland and the Netherlands. ESCPC is a three-year pilot project and, according to EDA estimates, could reach an annual business volume of about € 30 million.[xiii] The aim of ESCPC, as defined by one of its key officers, is “to unify the procurement of commercial SatCom capacity in order to reduce costs, promote ease of access and improve efficiency to deliver a better connectivity to armed forces of the EU Member States’.[xiv] Essentially, this is about manipulating the market for commercially available satellites through the centralisation and management of supply and demand for this product. After 2012, it is envisioned that ESCPC will end its pilot period and will be established as a separate entity, permanently available to member states. Apart from ESCPC, EDA is set to launch a study on mobile/tactical satellite communication gap analysis, an area where the European Space Agency (ESA) is already conducting research.[xv] Moreover, it is focusing on next generations of military satellite communications, identifying possible common requirements, collaborative schemes and critical research & technology areas for space-based radio-communication networks.

Since 2008, the Agency has also been assessing military requirements forspace surveillance, in the context of improving EU space situation awareness.The latter term refers to the provision of data with regard to spaceenvironment and the potential threats to space-related assets, both in orbitand on the ground. An EDA Project Team was tasked with the elaboration of a CommonStaff Target document on the harmonisation of military requirements for spacesituation awareness; in March 2010, this document was approved by the Agency’sBoard. Military requirements fell into four broad categories: Recognised SpacePicture; data security; governance of future European space situationawareness; and imaging of space objects.

The Work Programme for 2010 provided a fair picture of the responsibilities and tasks undertaken by EDA with respect to space. With respect to space-based earth observation, EDA was, firstly, supposed to evaluate future EU requirements, drawing on the experience from past operations. It was also tasked with promoting synergies between GMES and MUSIS as well as with the Commission in general concerning R&T, and it was called upon to help identify new participants for MUSIS. With respect to the ESCPC, it was invited to finalise its bureaucratic and technical details, launch its operational phase and promote the Cell to all pMS. Finally, as far as space situation awareness is concerned, EDA was mandated to endorse the Common Staff Target as well as to discuss requirements with ESA.[xvi]

The picture would be incomplete if we left out the strategic-ideological dimension of the Agency’s engagement with space. All pillars of the Agency’s perspective concerning space and defence are to be found in its Long-Term Vision, a key strategic document published in 2006. To begin with, the Vision places industrial protection at the heart of capabilities development; it calls for ‘averting a steady contraction and decline of the European defence industry by increasing investment; consolidating the European technological and industrial base; harnessing Europe’s full potential; and targeting what we want to preserve or develop’.[xvii] It also asserts the expeditionary, power-projection nature of ESDP missions, with a potentially global strategic reach. Finally, the Vision emphasises the role of knowledge as a vital resource in military conflict, focusing in particular on the need of military forces to possess the necessary intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance capabilities. All of these elements lead to ‘offensive counter-space’, ‘situation awareness’, and ‘a broad range of sensors and systems, including satellites’;[xviii] in other words, they highlight an increased necessity to use space-based assets.

When it comes to EDA and space today, vision appears to be as powerful as reality. In fact, the sky is the limit, as far as the envisioned role of EDA in space affairs is concerned. As early as in 2003, the cream of Europe’s strategic institutes put forward the idea of setting-up a European Security and Defence Advanced Projects Agency that would provide the framework for exploring future space-related applied technologies;[xix] seeds of this idea were to be incorporated in EDA, a year later. Serge Plattard saw EDA as a tool for the reduction of the dependence of Europe on foreign supplies.[xx] Other experts have repeatedly viewed EDA as a venue for bringing together end-users, technology, programmes and industry. A study commissioned by the European Parliament defines potential EDA tasks as follows: ‘define capabilities … propose development programs and play a key role in the orientation of space-defence research, through the coordination with national Defence and Space Agencies and ESA’.[xxi] In general, despite its relative lack of funding – at least, the lack of sufficient funding for the undertaking of any meaningful space programme – the Agency can be seen as a valuable tool for the broadening and the deepening of EU mil-space agenda. How can one interpret the Agency’s role in the shaping of that agenda?

IV. Variety of forms, unity ofpurpose

European integration is characterised by a particular institutional form and socio-economic content. The historical materialist critique of mainstream integration theories suggests that these theories focus largely on the institutional form of integration, rather than on its social purpose.[xxii] According to this critique, the key question is not whether institutionalised authority lies on the side of supranational or intergovernmental units of analysis. Emphasis instead should be placed upon the socio-economic content, the purpose of the integration process, the particular class agencies whose interests are promoted through that process and the conflicts that arise out of it. Form and purpose, process and outcome are constitutive elements of European integration that belong to a broader structural context. The context in which integration evolves is shaped, in the last instance, by the social relations and forces of production.[xxiii] How does all this relate to our topic? The main hypothesis that stems from this framework is that the institutional actors involved in the making of military space policy will demonstrate a unity of purpose, which translates into a unity of action, despite the differences in institutional forms and the bureaucratic conflicts that may arise due to the emergence of a novel actor, such as EDA.

A year before the establishment of EDA, the European Commission noted that ‘a great deal of assessment is still needed about the capabilities and role of space policy in support of defence and security’.[xxiv] Seven years later, in November 2010, EDA was discursively acknowledged by the Councils of the EU and ESA as an institutional actor in the development of EU space capabilities. Specifically, the 7th Space Resolution invited ‘the European Commission, the EU Council, assisted by EDA, together with Member States and ESA, to explore ways to support current and future capability needs for crisis management through cost-effective access to robust, secure and reactive space assets and services’.[xxv] This has allowed EDA officers to publicly include the Agency in the core group of space policy-related institutions; ‘we need to progress on all these issues, “we” – meaning European institutions and Member States, the European Commission, the Council, the European Defence Agency, the European Space Agency and others’.[xxvi]

What about inter-institutional competition? A clear pattern is discernible here: irrespective of the various forms of the institutions engaged in the making of EU mil-space policy, they all share a common unity of purpose. This purpose is the strengthening of EU space capabilities and the provision of support to the European space manufacturers. Synergy, rather than competition, is the term that best describes interaction between space-related institutions. According to ESA, ‘the fact that EDA is part of such a joint effort will avoid duplication and create synergies between efforts to develop civil and defence-related space technologies. Moreover, the joint effort will foster the competitiveness of the European space industry on the world market’.[xxvii] In another discursive demonstration of inter-institutional synergies, the head of planning and policy at EDA noted that ‘there are reasons for combining our work in the context of the Commission’s European Security and Research Program, of the Kopernikus community and of ESA’.[xxviii] Could this be an exercise in public relations? Perhaps, yet it is one that accurately reflects the situation on the ground.

Much of the space-related work of EDA is undertaken jointly with ESA. The two agencies have collaborated extensively on the issue of the use of satellite systems for the integration of unmanned aerial systems in the European airspace. This collaboration culminated in a workshop co-organised by the two agencies in 2009, where EDA presented the outcome of its Air4All initiative, comprising a consortium of European aerospace companies active in the field of unmanned aerial systems. In 2008, the Agency had already awarded the consortium a €500,000 contract, in order to develop a roadmap for integrating unmanned aerial vehicles into European airspace.[xxix]

Moreover, the two agencies have been collaborating as members of the taskforce on critical space technologies for European non-dependence, together with the Commission. The aim of the taskforce is the coordination of investment in technological areas that are critical for EU space programmes and are provided by non-European states. EDA is expected to contribute to the development of critical space technologies through the implementation of research & technology projects. Essentially, the lack of any commercial prospect of such technologies means that the work of the Agency – and of the taskforce as such – is basically about the provision of public funding in private manufacturers. This is, in other words, not about defence and security, but rather about protectionism. Note the statement by an EDA official: ‘The idea is to select, for a given component, one company that we can agree to, and to agree among the governments that we won’t try to duplicate that product throughout Europe’.[xxx] Furthermore, the task of the Agency has been defined as follows: ‘Elaborate a targeted approach for the development of strategic components, concentrating on selected critical components, for which dependency of European industry on international suppliers should be avoided’.[xxxi] The agenda of ‘critical technologies’ is here to stay for EDA; the 2011 Work Programme states that the Agency shall ‘further identify critical technologies (e.g. space) and propose associated measures in co-ordination with the European Commission and the European Space Agency’.[xxxii] These considerations and functions are socio-economic and industry-oriented, rather than of a purely strategic and military nature, in the sense that they affect the basics of the political economy of space manufacturing: formation of new markets, expansion into existing ones, funding for research and technology, provision and homogenisation of requirements.

The Council, the Commission and the Agency are all participants to a process of structured dialogue, initiated in early 2008. This process followed the May 2007 Space Council’s call to set up a structured dialogue with the EDA ‘for optimizing synergies between all aspects of the European Space Policy’.[xxxiii] The topics of the space structured dialogue pretty much highlighted the scope of the Agency’s involvement in space: security aspects of GMES; space situational awareness and security of space infrastructure; European non-dependence in space; and space communications.[xxxiv] The three parties all agreed to prepare the issues to be discussed by the structured dialogue in relevant working groups, to systematically follow up the operating conclusions, and to meet regularly every six months at the Director’s level. Representatives from ESA may participate in the dialogue, on an ad-hoc basis, adding to the strong bilateral relations between EDA and ESA. The signing of an Administrative Agreement between EDA and ESA in June 2011 signalled both the strengthening of cooperation between the two institutions, as well as the upgrading of the position of EDA as a space policy actor. The agreement concerned primarily synergies in the field of capabilities development for crisis management and CSDP missions.

In fact, the Commission, the ESA and EDA together are all essential for securing the right magnitude for the project of EU space-industrial competitiveness. Thanks to its fully-fledged military scope and expertise, EDA can provide military requirements to space projects that are under development. By doing so, the scope of civilian and quasi-civilian projects is expanded, thus multiplying the range of missions, applications and, eventually, end-users. The following statement best sums up this argument: ‘EDA has a mandate to support the strengthening of the defence technical and industrial base which is to be considered strategic for a space sector that could face a budget reduction’.[xxxv] EDA enlarges the market frontiers of European space projects, magnifying their ‘critical mass’ and strengthening the profitability potential of their manufacturers. Furthermore, it surrounds EU space policy with an aura of urgency, linking it to the realm of security and defence; space policy after EDA is not any more about the exploration of the unknown, but rather about the protection against it. True, the Agency is involved not so much in the core EU mil-space policy – consisting of Galileo and GMES. Yet, it feeds developments in other essential aspects of this policy, such as space situation awareness and satellite communication. This by no means implies a secondary role for the Agency, but rather a role that complements existing projects and fills critical gaps in existing capabilities. Besides, as is the case with GMES and maritime surveillance, the Agency touches upon the core projects of EU space policy as well.

The rationale of the Agency’s role in that policy is two-fold: the need to develop military capabilities as part of the EU policy of power projection embodied in the European Security and Defence Policy; and the need to strengthen the global competitiveness of the European arms and aerospace manufacturers. The story of the former line of argumentation is by now well-established; not much, however, has been said about the relationship between industrial interests and EDA. The following section demonstrates that the involvement of the Agency in space policy follows a general pattern of dense interaction with the internationalised European arms industry – the latter being pretty much identical to the European space industry and its leading corporate units, i.e. EADS Astrium and Thales Alenia Space, through a prior wave of mergers & acquisitions -.[xxxvi]

V. The European Defence Agency andthe European arms and aerospace industry

Since its inception, the EDA has been an intergovernmentalinitiative; the leading industrial EU member states played an instrumental rolein pushing ahead with it. The most active governments were the ones with thehighest stakes and the EDA can be seen as a primarily Franco-German initiative,while the UK also fed the Agency’s emphasis on capability development. Yet, theinitiatives of these actors were directly linked to industrial interests, i.e.to the internationalised arms industry, and it could well be argued that EDA isan institution that the corporations pushed for and the governments established.Industrial pressure and involvement during the later stages of theestablishment of the EDA was extensive.

The arms industry and the European Defence Industries Group, in particular, persistently advocated the establishment of a European armaments procurement agency in the mid-1990s.[xxxvii] Finally, arms manufacturers were offered a forum to present their views in the Strategic Aerospace Review 21 (STAR 21), published in July 2002. STAR 21 was an analysis of the EU political and regulatory framework of aerospace by a team set up by the Commission’s DG Enterprise.[xxxviii] The panel, named the European Advisory Group on Aerospace, consisted primarily of corporate leaders from the arms and aerospace sector, together with members of the Commission. The Chairmen of EADS, BAE Systems, Thales, Finmeccanica, Snecma and Rolls Royce were all members of the Group. Later, when the European Convention debated the defence clauses of the Constitutional Treaty, the industry was also there. Representatives of the national and European armaments establishment, including senior industrialists from EADS and BAE Systems, and the President of the European Defence Industries Group topped the list of experts heard by Working Group VIII. The Vice-President of EADS called for the establishment of a ‘European Security and Defence Research Agency’, the President of EDIG advocated a ‘Common Armaments Agency’ and the BAE Systems representative mentioned the importance of ESDP as a precondition of a successful agency.[xxxix]

Individual companies were particularly visible in their advocacy of the Agency. Their efforts culminated in an open letter to the European press, signed by the CEOs of EADS, BAE Systems and Thales, which invited EU policy-makers to strengthen their efforts in policy and planning coordination. According to the industrialists, the creation of an EU armaments agency ‘would take on massive strategic importance for the future of the European defence industry’.[xl] The executives also called for an increase in national military budgets, juxtaposing the European level of military investment to the US one. Others publicised their vision of an agency with increased supervisory capacity on a common pool of EU R&D resources, bringing together military research and project management.[xli]

The AeroSpace and Defence Industries Association of Europe (ASD) – the umbrella political representation group of the European aerospace and arms industry – provided extensive input in the discussions over the establishment of the Agency through its EU Working Group.[xlii] Industrial engagement increased during deliberations at the Armaments Establishment Team – the nucleus of individuals that set up the Agency – when it was clear that intergovernmental consensus was about to initiate a novel scheme of armaments cooperation. This was a small team and lacked a common doctrine, therefore the arms industry found a fertile ground to establish links through ASD and individual companies. The formal recognition of ASD and European arms manufacturers as the Agency’s consulting partners reflected these close links, with the 2004 Report of the Establishment Team declaring that ‘the Agency will consult closely with the…ASD, as well as directly with European companies’.[xliii] The European arms industry advocated a particular EDA, not just any armaments agency. A document published in October 2003 by the three lobbying groups that were soon to set up ASD set out a detailed account of what the missions, programme and institutional structure should be.[xliv] They asked for a senior figure to act as chair of the agency and for the fast setting-up of the agency. Indeed, the EDA was placed under the aegis of Solana and established swiftly in 2004.

The European arms industry had plenty of reasons to bedelighted by the creation of the EDA. The Agency provided a political forum forthe EU ministers of defence to meet regularly at the EU level and to shape EUmilitary-industrial affairs. This has had important political repercussions forarms manufacturers, given that their relations with the Ministries of Defenceare closer than those with other governmental departments. In addition,economic benefits were guaranteed. The propagation of budgetary increases, theboosting of R&T expenditure and the restructuring of the market forarmaments in the EU were all tangible benefits for the Europeaninternationalised arms industry that stem from the Agency. The transformationof the EDA into an EU procurement agency was also put on the table as a futurescenario, thereby simplifying the industry’s interaction with the end-user andbuyer of its products.

Key corporate figures welcomed the EDA and addressed ways to boost its effectiveness. In a second open letter, the CEOs of the big-three – EADS, BAE Systems and Thales – called for an increase in the resources and political support given to the EDA by member states. The argumentation used by the corporate leaders highlighted the transatlantic dimension of industrial competition. With regard to competition from American military firms, the letter suggested that Europe lacked investment and market size compared to the US, and that thus the ‘industry in Europe is under enormous competitive pressure from the United States’.[xlv] Furthermore, the industrialists called upon EU member states to set clear capability targets and fill capability shortfalls, to shape and fund a strategic research agenda, to break down national market barriers and to protect EU technological-industrial capabilities vis-à-vis US competition.

Individual European arms corporations followed the same line of argumentation. The 2003 annual report of EADS applauded the setting-up of the EDA as proof of the realisation of the need to integrate national defence policies, harmonise investment and specify common requirements.[xlvi] The same theme was repeated in the 2004 annual report that viewed the establishment of the EDA as ‘likely to lead to more pan-European, and better coordinated procurement, with larger production runs’.[xlvii] The expectations of the European industry involved both qualitative and quantitative changes in the patterns of military procurement and expenditure. EDA was meant to contribute to homogenisation and the increase of production through the increase in demand for military equipment. Finmeccanica joined the voices that publicly supported the creation of EDA and proposed ways to make its work more effective.[xlviii] The corporation called for the Agency to engage with dual-use technology and to encourage co-financing of projects by civil agencies.

Successive presidents of ASD welcomed the creation of EDA while voicing their concerns over potential dangers such as the lack of R&T funding and decision-making complexity.[xlix] ASD viewed EDA as ‘a crucial step towards harmonisation of the defence and security requirements and procurement planning of European governments’.[l] Consequently, one of the ten priorities of ASD for the first year of its operations was to ‘support the creation of the European Defence Agency and the related development of a coherent market for European Defence’.[li] European military-industrial capital established itself as an EDA actor in terms not only of influence on its making, but also of participation in its policy-making processes. A leading British arms industry official summarised the industry’s guiding principle: ‘early and strategic consultation with industry on future capability should be an essential component of EDA work. It should become part of the normal process’.[lii] ASD was formally recognised by the Agency as one of its partners in the 2005 EDA Work Programme.[liii] Indeed, it became an EDA partner in every sense of the word, constantly feeding the policy-making process, proposing and setting up common events. In October 2006, the two organisations co-organised two workshops on defence test facilities and on the European Defence Equipment Market respectively, for new member states.[liv] Moreover, ASD provided input for the Long-Term Vision, feeding the strategic orientation of the Agency. Driven by industrial concerns, the Vision invoked the US competitive threat with such strong wording as: ‘the trends point towards a steady contraction of the European defence industry into niche producers working increasingly for US primes’.[lv] The European Land Defence Industry Group, set up by land industries in 2003 and integrated into ASD, fed decision-making in the AFV flagship project by identifying the final project sub-fields and priority technology development areas.[lvi] Finally, ASD was the prime partner of the EDA in drawing up the Agency’s list of characteristics and challenges for the European Defence Technological and Industrial Base.[lvii]

Arms manufacturers utilised their instrumental power to secure implementation of their priorities. Finmeccanica revealed in its 2005 Annual Report that relations with the EDA ‘were tightened, for the provision of new technological development areas on UAV and Software Radio’.[lviii] Two technology study contracts on Long Endurance UAVs were awarded to consortia led by the Finish firm Patria – where EADS is a key stakeholder – and Sagem respectively. Interaction between the EDA and the industry was close from the start of the programme.[lix] Moreover, representatives from European arms manufacturers participate in every CapTech, the nucleus of EDA R&T policy-making. The benefits for the industry are direct in terms of funding as well as indirect, in terms of future exploitation of technologies. Similar yields are to be expected in the field of space.

VI. Conclusion

The paper began by providing a historical andtechnical overview of EDA as a novel and significant institutional player in EUarmaments affairs. Next, it discussed in detail the Agency’s involvement inspace policy, by presenting the multiplicity of projects and strategies that ithosts and feeds into. After establishing the extensive role that EDA hasgradually maintained in EU military space affairs, the analysis attempted tointerpret the politico-economic processes and interests that underpin thisrole. It was argued that the Agency’s involvement in military space policy cannotbe regarded as simply a quest for institutional expansion and autonomy; it is aprocess that fulfils a unity of social purpose, irrespective of the variationof institutional forms carried by the primary actors. Such a unity of purposeis geared towards the competitive survival of the European space industry,through the broadening of its military arm of products and applications. Thispattern was confirmed by an analysis of the broader linkages between the arms industryand the Agency since the latter’s conception. Space came later into the agendabecause armaments and ‘defence’ had essentially to come first, given the scopeand mission of the Agency. Yet, the dense interaction between the institutionand the industry had been established from the beginning.

Essentially, such a view points to the centrality ofthe industrial-class subject in the formulation of European policies andpriorities in space. If there is indeed a strengthening of European identityvia space, this strengthening is underpinned by socio-economic interests thatstrive for survival and expansion in a competitive global market, rather thanby a people’s quest for such an identity perse. The ideational construction of a ‘European identity’ might be appealingto many, and the image of satellites carrying the EU flag will probably add tothe appeal of such a construction; yet, none of this would have been possiblewithout the conscious political action of institutions and individuals seekingto ensure the European space manufacturers’ long-term competitiveness. Theestablishment of a common European policy for security and armaments hasprovided the interested parties with new space applications, new users, newmarkets, and, above all, new sources of legitimacy, thereby facilitating theenlargement of the EU space agenda and reinforcing its effects on Europeanidentity construction.

By no means does this assertion imply that spacemanufacturers have replaced member-states as promoters of national technological,industrial and security priorities. There are two processes runningconcurrently: The first one is the traditional bottom-up feeding ofpolicy-making by member-states seeking to promote their respective, nationally-basedmilitary-industrial capitals under the veil of the ‘national interest’. Thesecond one is the direct interaction between the internationalised fraction ofEuropean military-industrial capital and the Agency, through the activities ofASD and individual companies. The two processes are both complementing – to theextent that they both serve the purpose of strengthening themilitary-industrial arm of the EU – and competing – to the extent that theyreflect contradictions between different individual producers as well asbetween producers and the state as the mediator of the ‘general interest’.

What is, in this context, the primary politico-economic effect of the insertion of EDA in the making of EU space policy? Standing in agreement with Frank Slijper,[lx] we conclude that the best term that can shed light on the processes unfolding in the context of EU mil-space policy is ‘militarisation’. In a sense, this study complements Slijper’s argument by adding EDA to the toolbox of space policy militarisation. However, it is important to clarify that in the case of EDA, militarisation does not denote an increased propensity to wage war (militarism), nor does it signify the placement of weapons in outer space (weaponisation). Here, militarisation points to the increasing insertion of military institutions, strategies and resources in a previously civilian-only policy, that is, EU space policy. The rapid engagement of EDA with this field constitutes an instance of militarisation, due to the clear and indisputable military identity and orientation of the Agency.

To conclude, the story of EDA and space is a two-way street; it highlights not only the increasing role of the Agency in EU security and armaments affairs general, but also the rising significance of EU military space policy for European security and military institutions and planning. Space may well become the next ‘big’ project of European security and defence policy integration, if not of European integration per se. That said, EU military space policy is still an extremely contradictory odyssey, whose ending remains to be decided in the future. Despite the large wave of internationalisation in the 1990s, the persisting national basis of space-industrial capital in Europe means that, despite its political activities at the EU level, the internationalised European space industry has not overcome the established association with a single national market and the respective connection to the political unit of the nation-state. Add the declining military budgets and the gloomy prospects for public finances in much of the euro-zone, and one has the full picture of an endeavour that is both very ambitious and severely limited. In the case of EU military space odyssey, between the Scylla of rising competition among the metropolises of global capitalism and the Charybdis of persisting intra-EU contradictions, there lies the Ithaca of an independent, competitive and robust EU space policy and industry. In Ulysses’ fleet, EDA appears to be one of the most promising and effective triremes.

References and notes available only in print version.

01 January 2011

EU-US military relations and the question of transnational capitalist class

EU-US military relations and the question oftransnational capitalist class

by Iraklis Oikonomou

Published in (2011), Rethinking Marxism, 23: 1, pp. 135-144.

Capitalexists and can only exist as many capitals.

Marx, Grundrisse

Is there a transnational capitalist class?[i] What conclusions can be drawn from the case of transatlantic military relations over the validity of this notion, based on a critique of the transnationalist school as represented by the work of William Robinson (2004)? This short article responds to these questions by arguing that the notion of transnationalism is flawed and fails to grasp the complexities of transatlantic relations. Empirically, it points to attempts by the European Union (EU) to build a European Security and Defense Policy (ESDP) and US efforts to shape its orientation, scope and objectives, in order to question Robinson’s conceptualization of US military power as primarily promoting the interests of transnational capital. Additionally, it highlights the prominence of nationally and EU-bounded considerations in the operations of the European military-industrial capital.

Use and abuse ofthe concept of transnational capital

One of the mostadvanced theories of transnational capital and its impact on inter-capitalistrelations is the one put forward by William Robinson (2004). Broadly speaking,he argues that the transition from a world economy to a global economy – i.e.from a territorially-based economy of national markets mediated bynation-states to a de-territorialized economy of global production thatintegrates national production systems – gives rise to a transnationalcapitalist class and a transnational state apparatus. The decisive shift from aworld to a global economy is brought forward by the transnationalization ofproduction, i.e. the dismantling of national production systems and theirintegration into a global production system. This process reaches itshigh-point in the expansion of transnational corporations and the placement oftransnational capital as the ‘dominant, or hegemonic, fraction of capital ona world scale’ (2004, 21; emphasis in original). At this point, it isnecessary to clarify the conceptual difference between “transnationalization”and “internationalization” of capital. The former term denotes the emergence ofa form of capital whose composition is devoid of any territorial or nationalsignification. On the contrary, internationalization denotes anincreasing level of cross-border cooperation between firms that retain theirdistinct corporate identities, or alternatively the merger between corporateentities of different national origins. Internationalization refers to acomposition of capital that is nationally differentiated, whiletransnationalization refers to a composition of capital that is nationallyabstract.

For Robinson, the formation of a transnational capitalist class supposedly leads to the respective formation of a transnational state apparatus. He defines the transnational state as ‘an emerging network that comprises transformed and externally integrated national states, together with the supranational economic and political forums’, which ‘has not yet acquired a centralized institutional form’ (2004, 100; emphasis in original). For him, the transnationalization of the state is interlinked to two simultaneous processes, the internal transformation of the national states and the emergence of supranational, politico-economic organizations.[ii]

The real novelty ofRobinson’s contribution lies in the analysis of the implications of thesetransformations for the status of the US as a hegemonic power and the functionof its military power. He suggests that ‘For evident historical reasons, theU.S. military apparatus is the ministry of war in the cabinet of anincreasingly globally integrated ruling class’ (2004, 140). According to him,it is the transnational capitalist class, rather than any fraction of UScapital that primarily benefits from the actions of the US state. The immensemilitary power of the US security and defense establishment supposedly aims atsecuring the interests of transnational capital, and not at safeguarding theglobal competitive position of a nationally-based American ruling class.Consequently, Robinson rejects any theoretical attempt to point out theelements of inter-imperialist rivalry, or the potential for it in moderncapitalism; the US state does not seek to contain other geo-political andgeo-economic rivals but to protect and expand the interests of thetransnational capitalist class.

Doug Stokes (2005)has elaborated a comprehensive critique of Robinson’s theory. This critique isbased on the acceptance of the term ‘empire’ as an analytical tool, but also onthe claim that this empire is distinctly American, rather thande-territorialized. According to Stokes, the American empire is characterizedby two complementing logics, a ‘national’ and a ‘transnational’ one. The firstlogic seeks to maximize the specific interests of US capitalist forces andstate authority, while the second logic results in a reproduction of a globalpolitico-economic order that satisfies the interests of other national statesand forces. Stokes (2005, 228) concludes that the ‘transnational’ logic is areflection of the highly internationalized status of the US-headquarteredcapital; the logic of transnationalism is not transnational at its heart.Although Stokes subscribes to key elements of Robinson’s argument, such as thecentrality of the transnationalization of capitalism and the rejection of thenotion of inter-imperialist rivalry, his critique is particularly significantbecause it: a) reiterates the connection between the actions of the US stateand the interests of a distinctly US capital; and b) emphasizes the centralityof US politico-military dominance vis-à-vis other potential capitalist rivals(2005, 229-230).

In fact, this papersuggests that the serious limitations of the ‘transnationalist’ school areprimarily reflected on the politico-military dimension of transatlanticrelations, as exemplified in the constant interference of the USpolitico-military establishment in the formation of ESDP, and EU attempts toform a distinct military-industrial identity. The US is not the Ministry of Warof a transnational capitalist class, as Robinson suggests. If it were, then oneof its primary missions would not be to actively prevent the emergence of any othersuch Ministry of War, in the way that it has been doing, ever since the firststeps taken by the EU towards the emergence of ESDP. Furthermore, if nationalmilitary-industrial divisions had disappeared, then the EU would not attempt tobuild its own set of institutions and measures in support of the European armsindustry. The following two sections deal with each argument separately.

A critique of transnationalism such as theone provided by this article might be useful not only for theoretical, but alsofor political purposes. By over-emphasizing the supposed formation of apowerful capitalist class, not bound to any state, transnationalism risksignoring the political implications of the continuation of inter-capitalistcontradictions. One key effect is the distraction of the European public fromthe theorisation of and opposition to what is particularly “European”in EU security and defence policy. If Europe is simply reproducing US policiesin an attempt to service transnational capital, then how can one question EUdecisions that seek to strengthen the EU militarily in an attempt to match UScapabilities? Instead, a more nuanced perspective provides a tool forovercoming the essentially utopian nature of contemporary ultra-imperialisttheory, and for questioning the essence of European integration, as an attemptto both reproduce and compete with the economic and politico-military power ofUS capital. In other words, an alternative historical materialist approach maymore easily mobilise the European peoples against the misleading and seeminglyprogressive call for an autonomous Europe as a counterweight to the US, andmake them instead focus on the solid connection between the current nature anddirection of European integration and the interests of Europeaninternationalised capital.

The struggle over the nature of ESDP

ESDP canbe defined as an expansionist project for the development of the necessaryinstitutional, military, economic and ideological means to facilitate theprojection of EU strategic interests and power to the external periphery ofEuropean capitalism. The prime aim of the project has been to arm the EU withits own, autonomous military capability. The consensus that emerged amongdifferent sections of US foreign policy thinking over ESDP was expressed byMadeleine Albright (1998), then US Secretary of State, who set the tone withher famous ‘3Ds’ article. There, she suggested that the EU should avoiddecoupling its decision-making from NATO, duplicating force planning, commandstructures and procurement mechanisms, and discriminating against non-EUmembers of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). George Robertson(1999), former NATO Secretary-General, added a transatlantic flair oflegitimacy to Albright’s position, with the articulation of his ‘3Is’:improvement in European capabilities, inclusiveness of all allies andindivisibility of trans-Atlantic security.

The issue ofduplication demonstrates in full the dual, Janus-like, face of the US views onESDP. On the one hand, members of the American defense establishment miss noopportunity to remind their EU partners of the need to develop credibleEuropean military forces. On the other, the same policy-makers consistentlywarn the EU of the dangers that the development of separate EU capabilities maygenerate for the Atlantic relationship. There is virtually no document producedby US formal and informal diplomacy over ESDP that does not resemble this –verypredictable- contradiction. Following this pattern, a specialist asserts that‘There is a danger that the European allies will concentrate on institutionsrather than actually building the military capabilities needed to help managecrises’, before turning to the second danger, that ‘In theory, there is apossibility that the European allies could develop separate capabilities thatenabled them to act without drawing on U.S. assets’ (Larabee 2000, 1-2).

US concerns overNATO’s command structures culminated over the establishment of an autonomous EUheadquarters. The question of an autonomous headquarters for EU defenseplanning and operations has been one of the most controversial in thedevelopment of ESDP, due to its implications for EU-NATO relations. In 2003,the governments of France, Germany, Belgium and Luxemburg declared theirdetermination to establish a deployable force headquarters for jointoperations. The official reaction of the Bush administration was fiercelynegative, with the US Ambassador to NATO calling this initiative ‘the greatestthreat to the future of the alliance’ (quoted in Hamilton 2004, 153). This planalso failed to materialize due to the negative reaction of the British andother members of an Atlanticist political establishment within the EU. Instead,on December 2003 the European leaders agreed to establish an EU defenseplanning cell at NATO Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe for the purposeof improving EU operations that involve recourse to NATO assets. In turn, NATOwas invited to establish its own liaison mechanism within the EU Military Staff(EUMS) (European Council 2003). Then, the Headline Goal 2010 identified theneed to establish a civil-military cell within EUMS, which became operationalin 2005 and finally provided the EU with an autonomous strategic planningcapability.

For the US, theprimacy of NATO over other EU-only arrangements remains a key objective andpreference. The 1991 Bartholomew memorandum provides a good overview of thekind of thinking that has prevailed among US policy-makers ever since the endof the Cold War and the resumption of European integration in the early 1990s.Among others and in a careful diplomatic language it stated that ‘In our view, effortsto construct a European pillar by redefining and limiting NATO’s role, byweakening its structure, or by creating a monolithic bloc of certain memberswould be misguided’ (quoted in Salmon and Shepherd 2003, 152). Since thatstatement, the US has vehemently rejected efforts to build a European army withintegrated military command structures, outside the NATO framework. Immediatelyafter the end of the Cold War, the Defense Planning Guidance for the FiscalYear 1994-1999 stated that ‘we must seek to prevent the emergence ofEuropean-only security arrangements which would undermine NATO’ (quoted inPetras and Morley 1995, 17). These objectives have been translated intopractice. As early as 1993, it was concluded that ‘the US has firmly…opposedthe establishment of a separate military entity outside NATO’s commandstructure’ (Ougaard 1993, 197). This pattern is a textbook example of thecontinuity of US policy towards the EU, which Robinson and his argumentationseem to ignore altogether.

True, the institutionalframework developed initially through the Western European Union and nowthrough the EU does not run against the global supremacy of the US (Carchediand Carchedi 1999, 135). However, the obvious inability of the EU to competewith the US militarily should not be taken as a proof of a supposed dissolutionof the distinction between the US and the EU/Member-States defense apparatusesunder the auspices of a globally integrated ruling class. The militarysupremacy of the US relative to the EU serves primarily the interests of the USstate and its driving socio-economic forces. Sometimes, EU member states andcapital headquartered in the EU may benefit from US military power, as was thecase with the NATO war against Yugoslavia in 1999. This does not mean thatinter-capitalist rivalry is dead, or that the US military machine serves theinterests of a global ruling class. Rather, it highlights that: a) often, theinterests of the US and of the EU are common; and b) the EU has been unable tomatch US military power. In this respect, the formation of EU Battlegroups is akey development. Although they do not amount to the creation of a formalstanding EU army since forces are drawn from existing national forces,Battlegroups are significant both politically and militarily. GuglielmoCarchedi (2006, 329-330) pointed to four distinctive characteristics of theBattlegroups: they are on a state of permanent alert; their decision-makingstructures are autonomous from NATO; they stand equal to the NATO Reaction Forcesince they can contribute to it and vice-versa; and they do not requireparticipation by all EU member-states. Practically, this means that the EU iscapable of autonomous military operations that do not require the permission ofNATO. Contrary to the appeasing rhetoric of EU policy elites, the Battlegroupsare the de facto seeds of a Europeanarmy, although states retain control over the armed forces they contribute.

Military-industrial trends and the myth of transnationalism

The same pattern oftransatlantic competition is reflected in military-industrial developments inthe EU. Robinson (2004, 138-139) mentions that the arms industry is in theprocess of transnationalization on a global scale. However, contrary to the‘transnationalization’ hypothesis, European arms-industrial interests areclosely dependent upon the policies of their respective home states and,increasingly, of the EU. The competitiveness of the European arms industry hasbeen a permanent concern of EU policy-makers. As early as 1998 and the St. Malodeclaration, it became evident that the survival and expansion of the Europeanmilitary-industrial capital were going to be embedded in the process of EUdefense policy integration. In recent years, the EU has repeatedly sought toimprove military equipment harmonization, enhance the levels of arms industrycollaboration and restructuring, and contribute towards the strengthening of acommon defense technological and industrial base.  In practice, developments such as theestablishment of the European Defense Agency (EDA) and the initiation of theEuropean Security Research Program (ESRP) are signs of an increasinginvolvement of the EU in the competitive survival of the European arms sector.

The EDA wasofficially established on 12 July 2004 by the European Council. Its officiallystated mission is to ‘support the Council and the Member States in their effortto improve the EU’s defence capabilities in the field of crisis management andto sustain the ESDP as it stands now and develops in the future’ (EuropeanCouncil 2004). Thus, according to the official discourse the rationale of theEDA is purely strategic, namely the improvement of EU defense capabilities. Themain fields of the Agency’s work include the development of defense capabilities,the promotion of European armaments cooperation, the creation of aninternationally competitive European Defense Equipment Market, and theenhancement of the effectiveness of European Defense Research and Technology.Three out of the four principal areas of the EDA are of economic rather thanmilitary-strategic nature. In fact, the EDA is increasingly becoming thebulwark of the forces working towards the relative integration of the Europeandefense market and the maintenance of the competitive standing of the Europeanarms industry. Regarding the ESRP, the European Commission has now officiallylaunched an EU-wide program for advanced security research after a short periodof deliberations and institutional developments. A ‘Preparatory Action on theEnhancement of the European industrial potential in the field of securityresearch’ that was initiated in February 2004 was accompanied by theestablishment of a European Security Research Program after 2007. Securityresearch is now an integral part of the 7th Framework Program(European Commission 2005), enjoying broad support among all EU institutions.Its significance, especially for the big arms corporations that have separatebusiness sections for security programs and products, is very high, not onlybecause of the current budget but also because of the future dynamic that thisinitiative may generate.

The question of therelationship between state authority, the EU and the European arms industry islargely a question of the validity or not of the notion of military-industrialcomplex. Robinson uses the very same term ‘US military-industrial complex’ butseems to discard its importance and its peculiar implications for his theory.What concerns him is the utility of the US military-industrial complex for themaintenance of the security of the capitalist system as a whole; thus, the factthat the US military-industrial complex is primarily US escapes hisattention. Similarly, the possibility of having an EU military-industrialcomplex in the making is also ignored, although some concrete evidence hasappeared in the literature (Slijper 2005). Even if the dependence ofpolicy-makers on an EU military industrial complex is not as direct and of thesame magnitude as it is in the US, elements of an EU-wide attempt to supportthe European arms industry in its quest for competitive survival and expansiondo exist, as the nascent launch of the EDA and the ESRP demonstrate.

All arms manufacturers on both sides of theAtlantic maintain a clear national origin, i.e. a geographical area whereusually the bulk of production takes place, the company’s headquarters arelocated and the majority of its controlling owners and managers originate from.Capital as a social relation knows no motherland but is not a nationally abstractforce. It is characterized by territoriality, i.e. it exists within a givennational context, formed by the social relations of production and the linkagesof the capitalist class with the national state apparatus. Overall, under thebanner of transnationalization Robinson overlooks the largely nationally-basedinterests of the arms industry. The internationalization of the arms industry,i.e. the mergerbetween corporate actors of different national origins that leads to thecreation of a new, internationalized form of capital, is not synonymous witha disappearance of national protectionism and support. As with the territoriality of capital,internationalization originates from the sphere of production and is realizedthrough alterations in ownership structures. The use of the term‘transnationalization’ by Robinson conflates production as a material processwith capital as a social relation. The fact that different components of aproduct are produced in different countries does not signify the transnationalizationof capital. Callari (2008) has rightly suggested that a production that isglobal in scale can still generate outcomes that benefit a particular,nationally-defined ruling class, through the prevailing processes of surplusappropriation and distribution. In fact, the composition of capital ultimatelydetermines whether transnationalization occurs. This composition may involvemore than one national affiliation, but is never purely transnational. NicosPoulantzas’ observation remains today as valid as it was in 1978:‘internationalization is brought about under the decisive domination of capitaloriginating from one single country’ (1978, 60). Even the most highlyinternationalized industrial units, such as the European Aeronautic, Defence andSpace Company (EADS), maintain a clearly delineated, multinational – but nottransnational – composition of capital. Excluding EADS, three out of the fourbiggest arms companies in Europe still retain a clear national capitalownership; ‘BAE is primarily British, Thales primarily French, and Finmeccanicaprimarily Italian’ (Vlachos-Dengler 2004).

Several authors have used the term “globalization” to denote the increasing significance of global arms-industrial competition and/or the expansion of cross-border collaboration.[iii] This is misleading, given that competition occurs between companies that are not global in their capital ownership and are not distributed evenly around the world. In addition, hierarchical relations of power between and within regional economic blocs retain their significance and are not eliminated. What Robinson understands as globalization is for most of its part regionalization. These blocs are characterized by hierarchically differentiated power structures and uneven development, as exemplified by the case of the EU (Meiksins Wood 2002, 26). For Kees van der Pijl (2006, 31), “the notion of a universal homogenization suggested by the term ‘globalization’ is wildly premature”. In other words, the connection between national/supranational state authority and military-industrial capital has not disappeared. If it had, big arms-producing states would not employ ‘defense’ attachés in order to promote the exports of their respective firms. The struggle to achieve market intrusion by rival Atlantic capitals also refutes transnationalism. Participation in the vast US market is vital for EU producers, exemplified by the acquisitions of BAE Systems and EADS in the US. In this respect, the description of internationalization as ‘transatlantic integration’ overlooks transatlantic competition, mirrored for example in the Atlantic rift over Boeing and Airbus in the World Trade Organization.[iv]

Conclusion

To sum up, the transnationalist argument is of questionable validity, especially concerning its implications for the understanding of US-EU security and defense relations and the role of US military force globally. The fact that the EU and the US have at times common interests does not mean that they also form a single conceptual and material entity. In fact, informal expansion often involves an acceleration of the rivalry trends, as Petras and Morley (2000) have demonstrated. Moreover, the relative de-territorialization of capitalist production does not automatically imply the emergence of a transnational empire. As Tsoukalas (2004, 179) asserts, ‘even if accumulation tactics are de-localized, power strategies are still organized on the basis of definable inter-imperialist antagonisms’. Rather than reflecting on the existence of a supposedly transnational capitalist class, it might be necessary for historical materialism to emphasize the re-emergence of a complex pattern of inter-imperialist rivalry unfolding under the dominance of the American capital and its geo-political guardian, the US security and defense apparatus – a dominance increasingly challenged by EU politico-military-industrial initiatives.

References and notes only available in print version.

01 January 2009

"Protect European citizens and the European economy": The European Security Research Programme

 



 
“Protect European citizens and the European economy”: The European Security Research Programme
 

 
by Iraklis Oikonomou

Published in Studia Diplomatica: The Brussels Journal of International Relations, Vol. 62, No. 1, 2009, pp. 3-16.
 

In 2005, the European Commission launched an EU-wide programme for advanced security research The ‘Preparatory Action on the Enhancement of the European industrial potential in the field of security research’ (PASR), initiated in February 2004, was accompanied by the European Security Research Programme (ESRP) for the period 2007-2013 as part of the 7th Framework Programme (FP7).[1]Despite its novelty, ESRP has been neglected by the literature, mainly because developments in the field are quite recent. Another reason is the location of the project at the borderline between security and economics. Security research is too economic for strategists and too strategic for economists to fit into their respective research frames.

Therefore, EU security research poses a challenge for the study of European security and defence integration. What are its origins? Why and how did it become a part of the EU policy agenda? What theoretical conclusions can be drawn from it? The first section outlines the institutional and historical background of EU security research, before turning to the analysis of the provisions of PASR and ESRP. Then, the politico-economic significance of the programme is discussed, highlighting the multiple channels through which security purposes translated into politico-economic necessities. Finally, the implications of ESRP for the study of EU security and defence policy are debated. The analysis benefits from a couple of internal documents that the author secured access to, as well as from a series of intervies with EU officials conducted in Brussels.

1.         Background of EU security research

One of the first references to military research coordination appeared in a 2002 European Parliament (EP) resolution that invited the Commission to consider developing an equivalent to the Advisory Council for Aeronautics Research in Europe in order to pool and coordinate European military research.[2]Although the resolution clearly stated ‘defence’, i.e. military, research, the Commission later misrepresented this resolution as a call for security research to which it ought to respond with action. A ‘bi-ministerial’ team consisting of representatives from DG Relex, DG Enterprise and DG Research was put in charge of the preparation of the programme. The 2002/03 Hellenic Presidency gave a key boost to it. A small number of individuals from the Presidency were extremely active within the European Armaments Policy Council Working Group (POLARM) in advocating the setting-up of a European Defence Research and Technology Programme.[3]According to the Presidency, this would aim at achieving greater return on military R&D investment and at making fuller use of existing scientific talent to the benefit of the EU arms industry.[4] The first task of the programme would be to identify and remedy weaknesses in the EU technology base. Additionally, the establishment of centrally coordinated programmes drawing on the FP was suggested. The Presidency favoured the promotion of technologically advanced dual-use applications together with a closer coordination of national military research programmes.[5]In December 2002, the Hellenic Presidency submitted a Draft Council Joint Action to POLARM on the establishment of a European Union Cooperation Programme for Advanced Security Research and Technology (E.PA.SE.RE.TE).[6]This proposal was later taken over by the Commission to become ESRP. Among member-states, the French government was supportive of the Presidency’s initiative with Germany also following suit.[7]Once the proposal was blocked at the Council by the UK on the grounds that it would add to the Council’s bureaucratic burden, the Presidency suggested that the Commission should do it. The emphasis on security rather than on ‘defence’ ensured that the UK could not turn down this transfer.[8]

E.P.A.SE.RE.TE was presented as being at the crossroads between the requirements of the European Security and Defence Policy (ESDP) and EU industrial competitiveness. In the draft joint action, the Headline Goal, the development of a common armaments policy and the Cologne Council conclusions on ESDP were interwoven with the Lisbon and Barcelona Council decisions on EU research and innovation policies.[9]According to the plan of the Presidency, the duration of the Programme was set from 1 January 2004 to 31 December 2007, i.e. it spanned a four-year period, similar to the three-year duration given later to PASR. The E.PA.SE.RE.TE budget proposed by the Presidency was €1.75 billion, a vast sum compared to the €60 (later €45) million that were initially allocated for the PASR programme. This sum amounted to the EC contribution only and corresponded to one third of the planned budget, while the rest was to be provided by the Member States and the arms industry respectively.[10]The term ‘defence industry’ was used in the original draft, demonstrating policy-makers’ awareness that the main beneficiaries of the programme would be arms manufacturers.

The Commission’s response to the Parliament and the Presidency was to propose an advanced security research cooperation programme in the March 2003 Communication on defence equipment.[11]The primary justification of the project was presented in the context of the Petersberg tasks and crisis management rather than internal security. In May 2003, the Competitiveness Council welcomed the Commission’s intention to promote a preparatory action and the following month the Thessaloniki European Council Summit called upon the Commission to proceed with both defence and security-related research.[12]In addition, during the first half of 2003 the Hellenic Presidency actively encouraged the Commission to come forward with a fresh initiative in the field of military research.[13]The coordinated moves to launch a funding programme culminated in February 2004 with a Commission Decision establishing PASR and a Communication detailing the project.

A major thrust for the launching of the ESRP came in March 2004 from the Report by the Group of Personalities in security research (GoP), tasked by the Commission.[14]The fact that it was published after the launch of the PASR in February 2004 does not entail a lack of connection between PASR and the GoP Report, given that the GoP firstly gathered in October 2003 under the auspices of Commissioners Busquin and Liikanen.[15]It can be assumed that the ordering was meant to quell concerns over the striking similarities between the GoP Report and the Commission Communication establishing PASR. These similarities led Tony Bunyan, Director of Statewatch, to wonder: ‘The role of the “Group of Personalities” in the Commission’s Communication is unclear. Did the Commission simply reproduce the “recommendations” of the GoP’s first report?’[16]

The GoP provided an expert-based, technocratic boost to the legitimacy of PASR and a reference point for the budget of the programme, as high as €1 billion annually.[17]The Report identified security threats to the EU along the lines followed by the European Security Strategy (ESS). The Report even used a Eurobarometer table surveying the supposed fears of EU citizens, which was part of the draft security strategy submitted by Solana to the 2003 Thessaloniki Summit.[18]The discussion adopted the exact wording of ESS, identifying the same categories of threats and claiming that these ‘are more diverse, less visible and less predictable than those Europe faced during the Cold War’.[19]The threats appeared to be transnational, not restricted by state borders, supposedly representing the merging of the internal and external dimensions of European security. After framing the threats, the Report highlighted the important technological and industrial potential to be realised from a security research programme. It focused on the dual-use dimension of modern technology and suggested that targeted investment involving all security-related industries such as arms and aerospace, electronics, pharmaceuticals, bio-technology and telecommunications would ‘not only enhance security but also contribute to EU productivity and growth’.[20]The Commission incorporated all GoP recommendations in the 2004 Communication on security research, where the ESRP and the setting-up of the European Security Research Advisory Board (ESRAB) were announced.[21]

The Parliament placed EU security research under its aegis with a 2005 resolution that welcomed the Commission’s proposal and called for the adoption of the €1 billion budgetary target. In addition, it approved the setting-up of ESRAB and emphasised the importance of a competitive defence and security industry.[22]Although there were three committees involved in the consultation process (Foreign Affairs, Industry & Research, and Justice & Home Affairs), the resolution invited the Commission to report only to the first two committees. The marginalisation of the Committee on Justice and Home Affairs was due to its critical evaluation of ESRP that did not fully suit the prevalent pro-industry rhetoric, with calls for the inclusion of civil liberties organisations in ESRAB and for increased transparency.[23]The link between the Commission and the EP positions was underlined by the presence of the parliamentarian Philippe Busquin, the former Commissioner on Research, who drafted the opinion of the Committee on Industry and Research and advocated an increased budgetary allocation and presence of the industry in ESRAB.[24]The result was the formation of a small circle of individuals preparing the ESRP via the Commission while assigning legitimacy to it via the EP.

2.         What is the European Security Research Programme?

The political basis of the Communication establishing the PASR was claimed by the Commission to be the Thessaloniki Presidency Conclusions, despite the absence of any reference to specific funding arrangements or legislative measures in that mandate. Furthermore, the legal basis of the Action was publicly questioned. Critics argued that Art. 157 of the EC Treaty on industrial competitiveness, which formed the legal basis of PASR, should have been substituted by Art. 163(3) on research and technological development.[25]The legal choice allowed the assignment of the management of the project to DG Enterprise, rather than DG Research.

The role of preparatory actions is to generate proposals that may be incorporated in future Community actions.[26]For 2004 and 2005, the budget for PASR was €15 million per year, while the 2006 budget was initially set to €25 million by the Commission.[27]The Council later decreased the sum to €15 million. While not negligible, since the preparatory nature of the program automatically places the budget at the low end of the spectrum, PASR expenditure was lower than the industry would have liked.[28] For each project, the part funded by the Commission was 75% with the remaining 25% funded by the participants, who maintained intellectual property rights. The real value of the action was not imprinted in its budget but in the function of PASR as a training ground for the much more muscled ESRP.

Two kinds of activities fell within the scope of PASR: projects and supporting activities. Projects ran from one to two years and supporting activities ran from six months to three years.[29]Note that two of the assessment criteria for selection referred to economic and competitive advantages rather than to any security-related imperative: reinforcement of the competitiveness of European industry and potential for exploitation, and building of effective partnerships between public users, industry and research.[30]Still, PASR was a mission-oriented programme, i.e. it aimed to fulfil specific priority missions singled out by the Commission. The priority missions for the PASR-2005 programme were the following: optimising the security and protection of networked systems; protecting against terrorism; enhancing crisis management; achieving interoperability and integration of systems for information and communication; and improving situation awareness (in crisis management, anti-terrorism activities, or border control).[31]These remained the same for PASR 2006, although there the Commission specified twelve key activities and invited all stakeholders to focus their proposals on them. However, PASR-2004 had no priority missions whatsoever; the Commission put forward its priorities in PASR-2005, once the industry had articulated its own initial proposals.

ESRP was established in 2007 as part of FP7. In the Commission proposal to the Council, security research was grouped together with space research with a joint budget of €3.96 billion for a seven-year timeframe (2007-2013).[32]The 2004 Commission proposal called for an annual budget of €1 billion with the view of increasing it progressively.[33]The Commission lowered the sum, adapting its proposal to the prevailing mood in the Council against the huge amount originally proposed by the GoP. There were no formal rules to define how the budget would be split between space and security, although the industry had received informal assurances from the Commission that the allocation would be 50% for each area.[34]In the end, the Council separated the two fields and created a separate thematic category named ‘security’.[35]The four core activities of ESRP as proposed by the Commission were: protection against terrorism and crime; security of infrastructures and utilities; border security; and restoring security in case of crisis. Three more themes were identified in order to support the core activities: security systems integration and interoperability; security and society; and security research coordination and structuring.[36]The final allocation for security research in FP7 was €1.4 billion for the 2007-2013 period, or approximately €200 million annually.[37]This was lower than the GoP proposal but high enough to generate interest from all stakeholders.

Initially, the activities funded by ESRP were supposed to be geared towards protecting Member States from transnational threats and assisting ESDP missions.[38]The Commission mentioned the Petersberg tasks as part of the rationale for building up a security research programme.[39]Later, the ESDP dimension was toned down in favour of a homeland-security rationale. Due to the interrelatedness of security and military technological applications, the distinction between homeland security and ESDP purposes is only meaningful at the rhetorical level; ESRP should be viewed as a de factopart of ESDP. Experts repeatedly called for the establishment of a European security and ‘defence’ R&T budget for ESDP purposes.[40]A clear ESDP dimension ran through PASR, culminating in the PASR-2006 key activity on ‘shared information management tools and models to facilitate the efficient integration of diverse emergency and management services for humanitarian operations and rescue tasks in support of the Common Foreign and Security Policy’.[41]Major PASR projects, such as ASTRO+, BS-UAV, CITRINE, GEOCREW, MARIUS and WINTSEC had a clear, ESDP-related technological scope and function. The Joint Research Centre produced a modelling of security missions attached to PASR and ESRP that included the Petersberg Tasks and European crisis management.[42]The Commission proposal for ESRP mentioned crisis management operations as a potential field of its application and invoked the threat perception and proposals put forward by the ESS.[43]Furthermore, EU military leaders regarded access to the findings of the programme as guaranteed, through the cooperation of member states, the European Defence Agency (EDA) and the Commission.[44]

Apart from separating security from space, the Council also agreed upon some notable changes of tone and scope compared with the original Commission proposal for FP7. The improvement of the competitiveness of the European ‘security’ industry became part of the stated objectives of the FP7 security programme.[45]This additional emphasis on the socio-economic priorities of the project was accompanied by a repeated reference to its civil, i.e. non-military nature. The terms ‘civil’ and ‘non-defence’ were added seven times in the text, under intense pressure from member states sceptical of the Commission’s involvement in military affairs, such as the UK.[46]

The integral link between the EDA and ESRP was framed in the name of dual-use technology and the need to coordinate the activities of the two entities.[47]The EDA secured participation in the group of evaluators for the selection of the PASR projects together with evaluators drawn from member states and the Commission. Moreover, it was granted a seat at ESRAB, the advisory body on security research set up by the Commission in order to ‘identify synergies between the defence R&T work of the Agency and the civilian-oriented security research programme.’[48]In at least two areas, Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAV) and Software-Defined Radio, the EDA and the Commission developed parallel and complementary research programmes. Therefore, the relationship between the EDA and the Commission was one characterised by a unity of objectives. Both wished to see increased levels of spending for security research that would eventually contribute to the strengthening of the European arms industry’s competitive status. The Commission and the EDA established R&T funding initiatives with similar timeframes and objectives. The fact that the one initiative was community-driven while the other one was intergovernmental does not justify institutionalist preoccupation with the formal structures of the institutions involved. What matters is the politico-economic purpose of the developments, which is the same in both arenas.

3.         The political economy of EU security research

According to official discourse, developing security-related research and technology for the EU was necessary in order to counter the internal and external threats to European security described in the ESS.[49]Rhetorical emphasis on threats and security cannot conceal the socio-economic objectives embedded in the making of ESRP. The Commission suggested that ‘a strong, structured security research programme at a European level is necessary to help protect European citizens and the European economy’.[50]In fact, protecting the long-term competitiveness of the European security industry is the primary objective of EU security research. This was reflected in, among others, the criteria according to which the PASR projects were selected. The second principle of the selection was ‘the stimulation of market conditions and innovative mechanisms to create opportunities for European industry to gain a comparative advantage’.[51]Furthermore, the term ‘security industry’, used repeatedly by the Commission, is a euphemism. Each big arms-producing firm in Europe has its own security division, rendering it practically impossible to distinguish between security and arms industries. ESRP is particularly significant for companies that maintain such security business divisions. The industry that the Commission primarily referred to involves those arms-producing firms that maintain both a military and a civilian (or dual-use) portfolio of activities, such as EADS, Thalles, BAE Systems, Finmeccanica, Dassault, Diehl and Rheinmetall. Given that public and EU subsidies cannot be formally given to civil industries, funding programmes such as ESRP may ‘serve as a backdoor conduit for government money to the civil sector’.[52]Next to the arms industry stand sectors tightly knit together, whose operations are dual-use or civil. Such sectors with a big stake in EU security research include information technology, materials technology, telecommunications and transport among others.[53]

This interrelatedness of military and civil productive capital does not alter the military focus of ESRP. The very concept of ‘security research’ is a politically correct synonym for research at the borderline between ‘security’ and ‘defence. In most cases, security research cannot be meaningfully distinguished from research that has a military scope, and ESRP is an integral part of EU military and security research.[54]In practice, what distinguishes security from military research in the EU is budgetary control. In the words of Nick Witney, former Chief Executive of the EDA, ‘the fundamental difference is really who controls the money – in the case of defence research, national defence ministries, in the case of security research other national authorities and now, too, the Commission’.[55]No other actual distinction can be put forward. In terms of purpose, both bodies of research benefit military corporations and the repressive mechanisms of the state in the first place. Technologically, the wall separating the two areas is replete with cracks.[56]For example, there is no major difference between UAVs developed for border control and UAVs developed for battlefield monitoring.

The expansion of arms industries in civilian and quasi-civilian applications of military technology was one of the strategies pursued in order to stay competitive in the face of declining military budgets.[57]The unity of civil and military technological applications, a commonplace for the aerospace industry, increasingly dominated the arms industry as a whole. As the Commission-led STAR 21 Report stated, ‘The wellbeing of the industry depends on the twin pillars, civil and defence. They are complementary to each other but mutually dependent’.[58]This dependence secures product diversification, economies of scale and the enhancement of the scientific and technological basis of firms. For the arms-industrial sector, characterised by extremely high fixed costs, the strengthening of the links between civil and military applications is necessary.

In addition, projects such as the ESRP have ‘structural’ benefits for the whole EU as a capitalist economic unit in a fiercely competitive, internationalised economic system. Next to the arms industry, ESRP ensured the involvement of numerous other industrial sectors that may benefit from security-related applications, such as the pharmaceutical, chemical, telecommunications and information technology industries.[59]Increasing cooperation between the arms industry and other sectors, especially IT leaders such as Siemens and Ericsson, was an embedded aim of the programme. Additional investment in security and military research is expected to foster the generation of new technological capabilities. The former Commissioner for Enterprise and Information Society argued that ‘the defence industry acts as a catalyst for growth and innovation in other industries ranging from high-tech, such as aerospace and IT, to more traditional industries such as steel and shipbuilding’.[60] The aim was the promotion of the international competitiveness of European capital in general, and especially of its fractions engaged in technologically specialised and R&D-intensive activities.

The transatlantic dimension of ESRP is critical for the programme’s scope and function. Competition between European and American companies and the vast disparity between the EU and the US armaments and homeland security markets set the scene for the presentation of ESRP as a tool that ought to compete with US security spending. The advocacy of the idea that the EU should follow the US in terms of security spending was fierce and uncritical. The GoP Report suggested that the EU investment on security research should try to match that of the US, due to the similarity of the threats facing both societies and to the difficulties surrounding the border protection in the enlarged EU.[61]The competitive status of the European arms manufacturers has been undermined by the vast disparity in internal security funding between the EU and the US. For the period 2006-2015, the EU is expected to spend one third of what the US will spend on homeland security; the share of EU expenditure in global homeland security expenditure is 17%, while the share of US expenditure is 52%.[62]This played prominently in public discourse and industrial thinking.[63]The implications of this disparity for the European arms industry are far-reaching. By taking the lead in funding, the US arms industry gets closer to developing and sustaining a technological lead in the relatively novel area of security applications. Such a lead could allow the US to establish its own preferred standards on security equipment outside its territorial confines. Acknowledging this possibility, the GoP report suggests that ‘For critical technologies, Europe should aim for an indigenous competitive capability, even if this involves duplication of effort’.[64]

4.         Implications for the study of European integration


The article began by highlighting the core episodes in the formation of the EU security research programme. It then turned to the provisions of both PASR and ESRP, emphasising the interlinking of economic and security imperatives. The politico-economic significance of the programme was analysed in detail, illuminating both the instrumental effects of military-industrial interests and the structural benefits of European capitalism as a whole. Three concluding claims stem from this research note: a) security research has significant politico-economic implications for military-industrial actors in the EU; b) EU institutions have demonstrated a remarkable unity of purpose in promoting this programme irrespective of their institutional form; and c) the European Security and Defence Policy (ESDP) acted as a discursive source of legitimacy for the promotion of this project.

Contrary to realist and liberal intergovermentalist approaches, the distinction between high and low politics is, in the case of ESRP, undermined by the intermeshing of economic-industrial interests, bureaucratic policy-making and security objectives. In addition, given the dominant role of the Commission in the process of the making of ESRP, the view of states as the only significant actors in the making of EU security policy is not valid. The Commission enjoyed a strong level of influence over Member States on research issues. This was backed by a special partnership between the industry and DG Enterprise in which both developed informal links and channels for the exchange of ideas. Overall, the EU security research programme demonstrates the politico-economic significance of seemingly strategic projects that serve a supposedly objective set of EU security interests. Security research is geared towards protecting the European economy at least as much as the European citizens.

In addition, the case of ESRP highlights the extent to which ESDP was utilised by all relevant institutional actors, including the European arms industry, in order to legitimise and accelerate the development of EU armaments policy. The emergence of ESDP opened up a policy space that the dominant social forces occupied rapidly in order to further their own pressing interests. The Commission was adaptive to the emerging discourse, scope and priorities of ESDP, incorporating them efficiently into ESRP. In addition, the Commission utilised the need of industry for more funding as a source of support for an initiative that ultimately had to be sold to EU member-states. EU security research demonstrates that, no matter whether the internal and external dimensions of security have merged objectively, they have de facto been merged rhetorically in order to smooth the way for EU military-industrial reform. The merging of the two dimensions of security has real, tangible consequences, even if it is not real as such. This merging channels the elements of urgency and threat perception that stem from the international realm into the domestic mechanisms of capitalist reproduction. Direct, ESRP-like funding is the most open and obvious way to support an industry and this development follows clearly the demands placed by the internationalised military-industrial capital. While the decision to proceed with such a programme was political, its results were socio-economic, benefiting the European arms industry and extending its synergies.

Finally, ESRP is a textbook case of the unity of purpose and action connecting intergovernmental and supranational institutions in the EU. The R&T efforts of the EDA and ESRP can be legitimately viewed as complementary. The group of individuals that masterminded the ESRP and the EDA was roughly the same, supported by the Hellenic Presidency. Security research as a project was given to the Commission by the Presidency when the UK objected to it being carried out by the Council. The EDA secured its presence in the post-PASR institutional arrangements and had a say in the future orientation of the ESRP through its membership of ESRAB. The synergies between the Commission and the EDA were all too visible, translating into a unity of actual policy-making practice. Such a unity was mediated by state authority and its diverging traditions and ‘national’, i.e. politico-economic interests, without however concealing the profound connections between industrial and political actors at the EU level.

To sum up, EU security research is indeed a theoretically and empirically novel and challenging development. For the first time in the history of the EU, the Commission has entered the world of defence-related research. At the same time, the European arms industry has now set foot in a vast pool of economic resources as part of FP7 that were previously unavailable to arms manufacturers. The making of the EU security research programme is a textbook case of the multiple ways through which the quest for European security and defence autonomy has impacted on the politico-economic essence of European integration. The potential militarisation of scientific research is a prospect that deserves attention from students of the EU and European citizens alike.

References available in print version only.