“This is not at all a strategy-driven [FY 2027 defense] budget. This is a budget-driven budget. If you look at the Truth Social posts by the President [Trump] and the statements of the people around him, he [President Trump] makes very clear that this budget was driven by a budget number, a budget target, an arbitrary level that was set based on five percent of last year's GDP…They set this arbitrary level and then at relatively the last minute in the budget development process the [Defense] Department was told come up with a request that gets you to this number, this $1.5 trillion number. And so they did.”

That was Todd Harrison of the American Enterprise Institute and one of the nation's top experts on defense strategy and the defense budget, speaking last Tuesday at the Brookings Institution as part of a panel on The FY 2027 defense budget: How much is enough?

Remember, as I wrote last week, the Trump FY 2027 defense request is for $1.15 trillion with another $350 billion request to be placed in a FY 2026 reconciliation package; and there now also is the new FY 2026 supplemental request, which has another $67 billion for the Defense Department.

House members have been weighing all the defense numbers and this week may be voting on a FY 2026 reconciliation package of $95 billion with only $73 billion for defense – far less than what was being sought.

Last Tuesday, Harrison went on to explain what may have been going on: “I say it is absolutely not a strategy-driven [FY 2027 defense] budget because they didn't have to make hard choices. They made some easy choices.”

As an example, Harrison said, “Do you want, you know, a fourth generation fighter jet? Buy some new fourth generation [F-15s]; or do we want to continue buying the fifth-generation fighters like the F-35 we have in production; or do we want to invest in sixth generation fighters? Do all of them, right? You can do all three at once, if you have a virtually unlimited budget, you don't have to make those hard tradeoffs.”

And, in fact, all three are included in the proposed FY2027 defense budget.

But Harrison goes on to suggest another way to view this Trump defense budget giant increase saying, “There's still a limit to how much the department can consume in terms of this funding…because I don't think they [the Trump budgeteers] actually intend this to be like a one-year budget authority number, especially with the reconciliation [set at $350 billion]. I think it is actually more like a five-year budget number that they're trying to get pre-funded up front, but they actually plan to spend it at a slower pace over the next five years.”

Harrison also looked at “the parts that I think absolutely don't belong in here are these big pots of money they created in defense-wide accounts that have very little description with them.”

For example, he picked out “$54 billion in the Defense Autonomous Warfare Group (DAWG) line item. That is a single program element that's got $54 billion in it,” Harrison said. “That's unprecedented. If you read the budget description with it, it gives very little detail. You know, it's [clears throat] supposed to be investments in drones and things like that, but like tell us

quantities, tell us specific types of drones, like tell us what you're going to be using it for, and that detail is not there.”

Harrison went on, “It appears they haven't figured that out yet, so I think $54 billion is quite a reach, trying to ask for that much money for something that has not yet been well defined. So, I think that there are areas here where they've really overshot and they've tried to just throw everything in there and ask for a super high number. And I wonder if they almost expect that they're not going to get that full number -- that Congress will cut them back down quite a bit. But they were just trying to reach that overall $1.5 trillion level.”

As Yahoo Finance pointed out earlier this month, the $54 billion for DAWG sought for FY 2027 is 243 times greater than what DAWG got this year, and “now exceeds the entire Marine Corps budget request of $52.8 billion and represents nearly 15% of the entire $350 billion reconciliation package.”

Harrison’s view: “You get to the endgame, Congress is going to have to sort through this and say, ‘Okay, what are the what things in here are serious things that really do need to get funded one way or the other, and we'll have to figure out how to make that happen, and what are the other things that were just budget gimmicks or just filler?’"

Harrison was not the only expert on last Tuesday’s Brookings panel.

Joining him were David Wessel, who runs Brookings’ tax and fiscal policy in the economic studies program; and Mara Karlin, professor at John's Hopkins University’s School of Advanced International Studies, who has worked for six Defense Secretaries over her career.

Wessel took a broader financial view saying, “The President is proposing a big defense budget at a time when we have unsustainable fiscal trajectory, and so I think that raises an important question and that question is…budgeting is about tradeoffs and the President and Congress at the moment seem to be avoiding trade-offs. There are ways we could offset if defense spending is really important. We should think about ways to pay for some of it either by cutting some other places in defense or raising taxes. And there's some ideas floating around on that, but none of them are politically popular.”

Wessel also raised two other issues: “I think it also requires some trust on the part of the public that the money is being well spent and that relies on Congress doing oversight. And secondly, that we are sticking with a military that is nonpartisan and follows the leadership of the President and the Congress, but is not totally politicized. And I'm afraid that the trust in the military is being eroded by some of the personnel decisions that Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth is making. And I think that's a problem.”

As for Karlin, she referred to the Trump national strategy and focused on what she called “a break with the bipartisanship that has characterized how folks have thought about these threats for a long time.”

Karlin noted, “The real emphasis of this [Trump national] strategy is on the Western Hemisphere, right? The real threat is seen in this strategy as these alleged narco-terrorists as they're so named…So, that's the priority.”

But, she adds, “You then see China mentioned, but in a pretty circumscribed way, just the first island chain. And in general, the language reads a lot softer than almost any recent defense strategy. You see a desire to downgrade involvement in European affairs, a little bit of mention of the Middle East, but in no way signaling that we would be starting this massive [Iran] conflict. And so here's where I think, there's some confusion worth highlighting because traditionally a national defense strategy is a decoder ring. It's going to tell you where the Secretary of Defense will put their energy and attention.”

“When we look at this budget, this very large budget, that's really at kind of World War levels,” Karlin said, “and frankly, the number [$1.5 trillion] isn't really merited by the strategy.”

She explained, “If one were really to just prioritize the Western Hemisphere and this quite circumcised focus on China as a major threat, and not be involved in most other regions of the world, in fact, the Trump administration could have put out a quite tiny defense budget request. So I leave you with a bit of perplexity.”

Two more things Harrison mentioned need recording.

“I forgot to address the [Trump] battleship issue,” Harrison said at one point, “because you know that's in here and far from defending it, I think that's one of those examples of things that got thrown in because they didn't have to make tough choices.”

Then he explained, “No one in the Navy can say with a straight face that we're going to go from starting a brand-new, clean-ship design in FY 2027, to procuring the lead-class [battle]ship in FY 2028, to going to all the way by FY 2031 being at full rate production, ready to buy them at one per year. That doesn't pass the laugh test…And so are we just setting ourselves up to spend a few billion dollars chasing, you know, this weird idea before we eventually have to cancel it and then things go back to the way they were before.”

Finally, Harrison said, “I think there needs to be some fundamental look on the congressional side at just how do we reform the budget process to get it working again; open the aperture to things like changing the start date of the fiscal year [which now begins October 1], re-jiggering the committee structure.”

I believe Harrison is questioning why each year the Armed Services Committees in both the House and Senate each authorize spending programs, and then the House and Senate Appropriations Committees set the actual dollar-level of funds made available for that year.

“You know,” Harrison said, “I'm talking a lot of third rails here, but I think we're at that kind of point like we were in the early 1970s where Congress realized it [the budgeting process] just wasn't working. I think that they need to do some serious inward-looking reform like that.”

I agree, having twice worked on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in the 1960s, and followed defense spending over the past 60 years. Harrison is right – the Legislative Branch system for passing Executive Branch funding needs to be repaired.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

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The choreography in Ankara last week was impressive, even by Recep Tayyip Erdogan's standards. Cannons fired, mounted honor guards paraded, and jets flew overhead trailing red, white, and blue smoke as Donald Trump arrived for the NATO summit. By the time the two leaders sat down together, the American President was already telling reporters that Turkey has been "much more loyal" than other allies, and that reinstating Ankara into the F-35 program is "certainly something we will consider." He went further, promising to lift the sanctions imposed under CAATSA after Turkey's 2019 purchase of the Russian S-400 air defense system.

Washington should slow down and reconsider any such move. The temptation to reward Erdogan for a good show of pageantry and for playing a useful back channel to Tehran is understandable. But the case for readmitting Turkey to America's most sensitive fighter jet program does not hold up, and the reasons go well beyond the S-400 that got Ankara expelled in the first place.

Let’s start with Turkey’s original sin. Turkey was removed from the F-35 program precisely because the S-400 system stationed on Turkish soil poses a collection risk to the F-35's stealth signature and sensor data. Nothing about that system has left the country. Trump's own suggestion that he has "no concerns at all" about Turkey operating Russian and American systems side by side ignores the technical judgment his own administration reached in 2019: an S-400 battery within range of an F-35 is an intelligence-gathering platform aimed at the jet's most guarded secrets.

Turkey now appears it wants to atone for its sins: In the days that followed the NATO summit, well-placed sources in Ankara announced Turkey’s intention to sell or transfer its S-400s to another country, possibly Qatar or the United Arab Emirates. Doing so may satisfy the letter of the law, section 1245 of the 2020 National Defense Authorization Act, which bars F-35 transfers to Turkey unless Washington certifies Ankara no longer "possesses" the S-400.

Then come regional concerns. Israel has lobbied hard against the F-35 sale, with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu warning that Turkish F-35s would erode the air superiority that guarantees Israeli and American posture across the Middle East. Athens and Nicosia have made similar appeals, citing Turkey's continued military pressure in the Aegean and its decades-long occupation of northern Cyprus. These are warnings from allies and partners who would sit on the receiving end of Turkish airpower upgraded with fifth-generation stealth.

But there is a fourth danger that has drawn far less attention in Washington, and it may matter more than any of the others: Turkey's telecommunications backbone is no longer fully Turkish. The country's leading systems integrator, Netaş, is roughly 48 percent owned by ZTE, and Huawei is deeply embedded in the networks operated by Turkcell, Türk Telekom, and Vodafone Turkey. Under China's 2017 National Intelligence Law, that ownership is not a passive investment. Beijing can compel any Chinese firm, anywhere it operates, to hand over data on demand, and corporate assurances of independence carry no legal weight against that obligation.

Washington has already treated this exact problem as disqualifying. In 2021, a $23 billion F-35 and drone package for the United Arab Emirates collapsed, in part because Huawei was building Abu Dhabi's 5G network and American intelligence had identified a suspected Chinese military-linked facility at Khalifa Port.

Turkey’s embrace of Chinese telecoms also cuts against the Alliance’s moves towards securing the critical infrastructure underpinning its military mobility — the bridges, rail links, and digital networks that allow allies to uphold deterrence. Across the continent, these networks have become a critical target over the course of the war in Ukraine, as adversarial actors linked to Russia use grey zone tactics to undermine collective resilience and damage alliance cohesion.

Washington increasingly views countering this threat as a top priority. In May, the Trump administration urged NATO members to spend a portion of the 1.5 percent of GDP allocated to defense-related spending on removing Huawei components from their domestic networks, highlighting the vulnerabilities posed by Chinese equipment and hacking campaigns such as Salt Typhoon. While that call is already being heeded by several NATO allies — Sweden and the UK have been particularly proactive in securing their systems — Ankara remains a laggard, undermining its contribution to alliance interoperability.

The risks are not simply tied to the F-35 itself, but to its entire operating environment. If sold, the fighter will be operating within an ecosystem saturated by Chinese-produced telecom equipment, reliant on a deployment infrastructure whose roots directly tie back to Beijing, operated by a capital pulling in the opposite direction of a key Alliance priority. While the U.S. has heavily invested in protecting the F-35, no system is ever fully secure, and any sale would force the jet to operate in a vulnerable environment for decades to come.

Turkey’s pending S-400 sale may remove dangerous hardware, but it does not eliminate the systemic risk associated with the deal.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

The next 9/11 is unlikely to be another terrorist attack of equivalent scale nor a cyber-attack nor even another pandemic. The next global shock may be the use of nuclear weapons assisted by the more casual attitudes of less responsible world leaders and the lack of popular understanding and fear.

Journalists around the world are already working on their articles for the 25th anniversary of 9/11 this autumn. Most assume that the focus should be on Afghanistan and the renewed threat there from ISIS-K (the Khorasan province of the Islamic State terrorist group) and from the remaining elements of Al Qaida. A United Nations report alleges that both groups are surviving if not prospering in Afghanistan. But history tends not to repeat itself and, although President Biden's evacuation of Afghanistan following President Trump's Doha Agreement with the Taliban was a costly error, there are no signs that either group could carry out an attack of the magnitude of that terrible day in New York and Washington.

"the scourge of terrorism...is much closer to home"

The scourge of terrorism will, of course, continue and nowadays it is much closer to home, both in West Africa and inside our own countries where isolated young men self-radicalise in their bedrooms and then take a kitchen knife or the family car and attempt to do their worst.

In the 1990s Western governments worried a great deal about chemical and biological (CB) terrorism, particularly after the Aun Shinrikyo attack on the Tokyo subway. In London there was concern about a mass casualty attack on the London Underground. But a CB attack is extremely hard to undertake and that very complexity means that security services should become aware of planning.

Since 9/11 security services have become much more skilled at monitoring terrorist preparations. No agency on earth can expect to surveil every disgruntled loner (nor should that be the expectation) but Artificial Intelligence (AI) will greatly assist services around the world, flagging, for example, unusual travel patterns and the purchase of precursor materials.

Indeed AI would surely have "joined the dots" prior to 9/11 after the British had warned of attacks in New York involving the hijacking of airliners by AQ and the Americans had other evidence including unusual flying school requests.

So, if not terrorism, then what is going to provide the next global shock to rival Pearl Harbor and 9/11? In the mid-2000s the assumption was that it would be a cyber-attack. Richard Clarke, a special advisor on cyber security at the White House, wrote Cyber War (Harper Collins, 2010) which evoked an image of modern cities reduced to quasi stone age existence with air traffic control and hospitals paralysed, banks and financial transactions frozen, heating and air conditioning no longer functioning and fuel quickly running out. Cyber defences are now much stronger although AI will provide a boost to the capabilities of both attacker and defender. This is at the heart of the current debate about Anthropic's Mythos.

Covid 19 could be viewed as the successor to 9/11 in terms of global shock. It was, of course, a tragic event and there is a danger of seeming callous when observing that the World Health Organization estimated that 0.09% of the global population died (although the real figure may be slightly higher). By contrast the Black Death between 1347 and 1352 is estimated to have killed 40% of Europe's population. However the impressive and fast development of vaccines during Covid and the value of AI in shortening timelines for vaccine development and testing suggests that another pandemic might be shorter and therefore less devastating. On the flip side malign actors could use AI to develop more virulent diseases.

The extraordinary developments in warfare in Ukraine since 2022 should make governments and populations worry about the use of drones closer to home. They will surely become the routine tools of rogue states, terrorists and assassins. It is remarkable that the first (and so far only) drone assassination attempt took place back in 2018 against President Maduro of Venezuela since when Ukrainian development of drone technology has been exponential. It is only a matter of time before we see them used in a domestic context, perhaps against critical infrastructure such as nuclear reactors. All countries need to prioritize counter drone systems and some (particularly UK) require an emergency program to develop a coherent missile defence capability.

"a willingness to play nuclear roulette"

However by far the greatest danger of a massive global shock would come from the use of a nuclear weapon in anger for the first time since 1945. From 1945 to 1990 the world lived in dread of nuclear war. Films like The War Game (1966), Fail Safe (1964) and even the darkly comedic Dr Strangelove (1964) achieved genuine popular traction. Hot lines and fail-safe mechanisms were devised to minimize the danger of accidental war. Politicians liked to believe that the non-use of these weapons was due to effective mutual deterrence but, in truth, there were too many near-misses (between 9 and 22 according to a scan of reputable think tanks) for that to be a convincing argument. 45 years of nuclear non-use may sound impressive but barely moves the needle when thinking of the future of the planet and humanity.

Since the Cold War that fear of nuclear weapons seems (for no good reason) to have largely evaporated at a popular level and world leaders now make threats in a relatively casual manner. One must aim off for deterrence requiring leaders to assert their willingness to use such weapons in extremis but President Trump, President Putin, India's Prime Minister Modi and Pakistani Field Marshal Asim Munir have all been quoted indicating a willingness to use nuclear weapons in less than extreme circumstances.

Furthermore there has been a willingness to play nuclear roulette by firing missiles and drones near nuclear facilities. The Russians did this before seizing the Zaporizhzhia power plant and have subsequently fired missiles near Chernobyl. Iran appears to have targeted sites in the vicinity of the Dimona nuclear facility and the Indians, on 10 May 2025, deliberately hit Pakistani bases (such as Sargodha) where nuclear capable aircraft are known to be based.

In the 2000s much thought was given to preventing nuclear weapons falling into the hands of terrorists with a particular worry about Pakistan's nuclear arsenal being accessed by AQ or other regional groups. Both Presidents Bush (junior) and Obama believed this to be a top global threat, Obama famously insisted that "The single biggest threat to U.S. security, both short term, medium term and long term, would be the possibility of a terrorist organization obtaining a nuclear weapon." Fortunately the dual concerns about Pakistan "descending into chaos" and its army becoming Islamist have since receded.

"populist leaders cannot be trusted with weapons of such power"

Concerns about rogue Islamists have been replaced by a wider concern that increasingly populist world leaders cannot be trusted with weapons of such devastating power. Since the Millennium there has been a tangible decline in the standards of global governance. Just compare the key leaders at the time of the 1962 Cuban Missile crisis (Kennedy, Khrushchev, MacMillan and De Gaulle) with some of those controlling nuclear arsenals today (Trump, Putin, Netanyahu, Modi, Asim Munir, Xi Jinping and Kim Jong-un). The former four had witnessed world wars at close quarters.

In academic circles there is much debate about the dangers of AI being used inside nuclear decision-making with a particular insistence that there must always be a "human in the loop". Faster missiles lead to shorter decision times, making serious and informed human consultation virtually impossible. A retired senior Pakistani officer told the author that Pakistan had 25 seconds to consider the implications of the eleven Indian cruise missiles launched against its air bases on 10 May 2025. (A quick check of AI gives a figure of 29.77 seconds). At the time Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif was asleep. The temptation to delegate decision-making to AI could be hard to resist. However the AI debate is of secondary importance. AI might eventually mitigate human fallibility and anyway it hardly matters if the world is destroyed by a bad decision taken by AI or a human.

The use of even one nuclear weapon might be enough to shake the world out of its astonishing apathy about the nuclear threat. Rutgers University demonstrated that a war between India and Pakistan involving 150 nuclear warheads would lead to over a hundred million deaths and a climatic and environmental disaster leading to mass global starvation. A report submitted to the 10th Review Conference of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty in 2021 reiterated these risks and then, bizarrely, called for more research into the effects of such weapons (as if there was not enough evidence) and questioned their legality under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) as if any user is going to summon their legal advisers.

One thing is for sure. The use of modern nuclear weapons would relegate 9/11, Pearl Harbor and Covid 19 (and even Hiroshima and Nagasaki) to such a distant category of global shock that the very comparison would seem absurd.

Remember March 2020 when nobody could believe that the world was locking down due to a pandemic. A nuclear war will not be about an inability to join dots but another massive failure of human imagination.

Tim Willasey-Wilsey is a Cipher Brief Expert. He was an advisor to the British government on overseas counter-terrorism from 1996 to 1999 before advising Ministers on Asia (including the Indian Subcontinent) from 2005 to 2008.

This article first appeared on the website of RUSI-The Royal United Services Institute

America’s battlefield dominance remains unmatched, but Iraq, Afghanistan and now Iran shows that tactical success increasingly fails when military power is not matched by a coherent political strategy.

No military in modern history has possessed the technological reach, global mobility and combat capability of the United States. Yet, its greatest battlefield victories have increasingly produced some of its most difficult strategic dilemmas.

This contradiction lies at the heart of American military intervention over the past several decades. Washington has repeatedly demonstrated its capacity to defeat formidable opponents, overthrow governments and deploy troops across vast distances. But military supremacy has not always produced the stability, legitimacy or political order American policymakers sought.

Afghanistan revealed the limits of occupation and state-building, ending not in lasting transformation but in the return of the Taliban in 2021 after their initial ouster by American forces twenty years earlier. Iraq showed how removing a hostile regime could unintentionally strengthen Iran’s strategic position and deepen regional instability. Iran itself has proven resilient, with external pressure often hardening rather than weakening its strategic posture. Meanwhile, the Arabian Gulf has become an unpredictable region, where security, energy and great-power rivalry intersect with global consequences.

These cases raise a central question: why do tactical victories so often produce strategic setbacks?

The answer lies in the changing character of ‘limited war,’ in which military superiority remains decisive on the battlefield, but political endurance increasingly determines strategic outcomes.

The Post-War Pattern: Tactical Success, Strategic Frustration

The paradox at the heart of American military intervention is neither new nor uniquely American.

Since the end of the Second World War, the United States has repeatedly demonstrated an unparalleled ability to project power globally. From Korea and Vietnam to the Gulf War, Afghanistan, and Iraq, no nation has matched America’s technological sophistication, logistical reach, intelligence capabilities, or ability to sustain expeditionary operations over long distances. This record is well documented in studies published by the RAND Corporation and the U.S. Army War College Press.

Yet history demonstrates that battlefield dominance alone does not guarantee political success.

The Korean War (1950-53) ended in containment rather than reunification, while Vietnam (1965-75) exposed the limitations of overwhelming firepower against an adversary willing to absorb enormous losses in pursuit of political objectives. The Coalition victory in the 1991 Gulf War reinforced the belief that precision-guided weapons, advanced command-and-control systems, and overwhelming technological superiority had fundamentally transformed warfare.

Following the collapse of the Soviet Union (1991), many policymakers concluded that American military superiority could reshape political realities well beyond the battlefield. Historical assessments by the U.S. Department of State Office of the Historian and the U.S. Army Center of Military History trace the evolution of these campaigns and their strategic consequences.

While military force remains highly effective at defeating conventional armies, destroying infrastructure, and removing governments. It has proven considerably less effective at building legitimate political institutions that can endure after foreign forces depart. As Carl von Clausewitz argued in his classic work, On War, war is an extension of politics by other means. Military victory therefore achieves little if political objectives remain undefined, unrealistic, or ultimately unattainable.

The challenge confronting modern intervention is not one of military capability but of strategic translation. Tactical victories increasingly fail to produce durable political outcomes because the post-intervention political environment is often more complex than the military campaign itself. As scholars of strategy, such as Lawrence Freedman, and the research communities at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) and Royal United Services Institute (RUSI) have argued, the decisive challenge for modern military power is no longer winning the battle but securing a sustainable political end state.

Iraq: Breaking the Anti-Iran Bulwark

The invasion of Iraq in 2003 removed Saddam Hussein from power but also eliminated Iran’s principal regional counterweight.

What Washington saw as a decisive blow against a hostile regime became, in strategic terms, a gift to Tehran.

The collapse of Iraqi state institutions created a vacuum filled by sectarian competition, militia politics, and external influence. As Iraqi institutions weakened and political fragmentation deepened, sectarian identities grew more powerful, armed groups gained legitimacy, and the state’s monopoly on force eroded.

Iranian influence expanded through political allies, security networks, and Shia militias that embedded themselves in Iraq’s evolving political, post-Saddam order.

In an ironic twist, the U.S. intervention in Iraq was meant to reduce internal danger and violence; instead, it fostered a more favourable environment for Iran and the country’s political influence.

The United States spent enormous blood and treasure removing a regime that had contained Iran for decades. In seeking to eliminate one threat, Washington disrupted the regional balance and inadvertently strengthened another. Historically, Iraq stands not only as an example of a military campaign governed by ‘shock and awe,’ but remains a stark warning about the unintended consequences of overthrowing a state without understanding what will replace it.

The occupation of Iraq damaged U.S. credibility in the Middle East by disrupting power balances without a clear post-war strategy.

It increased uncertainty among allies, created opportunities for rivals, and enabled Iran to expand its influence, reshaping the strategic landscape and contributing to greater instability.

Afghanistan: The Limits of Military Occupation

Nowhere is this paradox of modern limited war intervention more apparent than in Afghanistan.

The United States and its allies rapidly dismantled Taliban rule following the attacks of 11 September 2001. Within months, al-Qaeda’s sanctuary had been destroyed, Taliban formations dispersed, and a new Afghan government established under international protection. Militarily, the campaign was remarkably successful. Contemporary assessments of the campaign and its objectives are documented by the U.S. Department of State Office of the Historian and the CFR.

The challenge emerged only after the battlefield had been won.

Over the next two decades, Coalition forces invested enormous resources attempting to build functioning political institutions, professional security forces, and a democratic state capable of sustaining itself. Yet legitimacy proved far more difficult to establish and sustain than military capability. Extensive investigations by the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) repeatedly highlighted the disconnect between military achievements, governance reform, corruption, and institutional resilience.

Corruption, weak governance, factional politics, and ongoing insurgent pressure steadily eroded public confidence in Kabul’s authority. The human, financial and strategic costs of the intervention have been comprehensively documented by the Brown University Costs of War Project.

The Taliban understood a fundamental principle of limited war: they did not need to defeat NATO militarily, only to outlast the West’s commitment to supporting Kabul.

As domestic political support in Coalition capitals diminished, strategic patience shifted in favour of the Taliban-led insurgency. The collapse of the Afghan government in 2021 demonstrated that two decades of military success could not compensate for the absence of enduring political legitimacy. Subsequent analyses by the CFR and the SIGAR conclude that institutional fragility ultimately proved more decisive than Coalition military capability.

Afghanistan, therefore, offers a broader lesson. In modern limited wars, technologically superior powers often discover that destroying hostile forces is considerably easier than replacing the political order those forces once sustained.

The lesson from Afghanistan is not unique.

In modern conflicts, technologically advanced militaries increasingly find that battlefield success is becoming decoupled from political outcomes. This reflects a broader evolution in limited war, where endurance, legitimacy and the capacity to impose continuing costs frequently outweigh conventional military superiority.

Recent assessments by the RUSI, the CSIS and the Modern War Institute at West Point (MWI) increasingly argue that political resilience and strategic endurance have become as important as battlefield dominance in determining the outcomes of contemporary conflicts.

Conclusion: Rethinking Military Success

There is an old regional saying that, rather than killing the snake, repeated attempts to strike it often make it more dangerous.

The 2026 Iran War is the starkest test of that proposition in a generation.

The US-Israeli military campaign that began on 28 February inflicted severe damage on Iran’s nuclear and missile infrastructure and, according to multiple reports, killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei. Judged by the metrics Washington and Jerusalem set—degrading capability and decapitating leadership—the campaign appeared to succeed.

Yet strategic outcomes are far less straightforward.

Reporting from Reuters, the BBC, and other outlets indicated that despite the shock of the strikes, the Iranian system moved quickly to preserve continuity. The Revolutionary Guard and other coercive institutions positioned themselves as defenders of a nation under attack. This pattern aligns with longstanding scholarship on external pressure and authoritarian resilience, which shows that coercion may consolidate regimes as easily as it weakens them. Iran’s economy was battered, its proxies pressured, and its deterrent credibility damaged, but the outcome Washington most wanted to prevent—regime survival—persisted.

This is not a defence of the regime, nor an argument that the strikes were unjustified.

Rather, it is an argument that force applied without a coherent theory of political aftermath can entrench the very resilience it seeks to break.

Iran has been hit hard, but it has also adapted, hardened, and become more difficult to read strategically. That unpredictability does not stop at Iran's borders; it radiates outward, especially across the waterway connecting Iran to global markets.

The lesson from Iraq, Afghanistan, and Iran is not that military intervention should never occur, nor that the United States should retreat from its global responsibilities.

Instead, the character of limited war is evolving in ways that increasingly favour politically resilient adversaries over technologically superior expeditionary powers.

This shift has become a recurring theme in contemporary strategic analysis published by the RUSI, the CSIS, and the MWI.

Cheap autonomous systems have fundamentally altered the economics of military power.

During the Cold War, technological superiority rested upon expensive platforms fielded by a handful of industrialised states. Today, relatively inexpensive drones, AI-enabled targeting systems and commercial technologies have dramatically lowered the barriers to resistance, enabling weaker actors to impose disproportionate costs upon militarily superior opponents.

Recent assessments by the Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments (CSBA), CSIS, and RUSI suggest that the strategic premium once attached to technological superiority is steadily being eroded.

Meanwhile, democratic powers continue to operate under political constraints imposed by public opinion, electoral cycles, international law, alliance commitments, and coalition management.

Their adversaries often face far fewer such limitations.

Victory is therefore no longer determined solely by military technology, but increasingly by which political system can sustain the contest for longer.

This observation reflects the enduring insights of Carl von Clausewitz and later strategic thinkers such as Robert Endicott Osgood, whose work Limited War: The Challenge to American Strategy (1957) emphasised the intimate relationship between military operations and political objectives.

The United States remains the world’s most capable military power.

Nothing in Iraq, Afghanistan, and now Iran diminishes that reality. These conflicts, however, reveal that military superiority alone no longer guarantees strategic success.

The ability to destroy an adversary’s military capability is no longer synonymous with the ability to shape the political environment that follows. As recent analyses by the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) and RUSI continue to argue, the decisive challenge for modern armed forces increasingly lies in translating battlefield success into enduring political outcomes.

The challenge for American policymakers is therefore not simply how to strike harder or faster, but how to ensure that military action serves coherent political objectives capable of enduring long after the shooting stops.

Great powers rarely decline because they lose battles.

More often, they decline because they mistake military victory for strategic success.

Military technology can destroy armies. It cannot, by itself, create political legitimacy.

Until strategy gives equal weight to what happens after the battlefield falls silent, even the most technologically advanced militaries will continue to confuse tactical victory with strategic success.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

The next Arsenal of Democracy will be built as much by investors, entrepreneurs, and operators as by government.

Cold War 2.0 is not coming, it’s already here. This version will not be fought only with tanks, missiles, ships, and proxy armies. Those still matter, but much of the real competition is taking place through capital markets, technology, critical minerals, supply chains, ports, telecommunications, manufacturing, energy, intellectual property, and information.

Put simply, much of the modern battlefield now sits in the private sector.

China understood this years ago. The Chinese Communist Party does not separate commercial activity from national strategy the way we often do in the West. Beijing treats finance, industry, technology, diplomacy, intelligence, media, and military power as parts of the same system.

The United States should not copy that model. But we do need to recognize what we are competing against. Our answer should be to unleash something authoritarian systems struggle to replicate deep, innovative, risk-tolerant capital markets. Unleash free market capitalism!

Economic security and national security are now inseparable. Government cannot realistically compete across every company, transaction, technology, and supply chain. Private capital, industry, and experienced national-security professionals must become a much larger part of the response.

China has already weaponized capital

The CCP Belt and Road Initiative is probably the clearest example.

It is usually described as an infrastructure and development program. That is true yet incomplete statement. It also combines state-backed financing, ports, telecommunications, mining rights, construction, energy, logistics, commodity access, and political/media influence.

A port is not just a port when it sits on a critical trade route. A telecom network is not merely commercial infrastructure when it carries government and economic data. A mine is not just a commodity asset when it controls access to materials needed for semiconductors, weapons, batteries, and advanced manufacturing.

Beijing understands that capital can create strategic leverage without firing a shot. It can lock up supply chains, shape political decisions, create economic dependencies, and establish long-term access.

The West has spent too much time debating whether this is development, competition, or coercion. China has simply kept investing. The answer is not more bureaucracy or a watered-down version of Chinese state capitalism. The answer is Western capital showing up with a better proposition: better governance, stronger local partnerships, durable jobs, superior technology, and financing that does not come with hidden strategic strings.

You cannot warn countries away from Chinese money while offering nothing credible in its place.

Private capital is ready for the next chapter

Over the last decade, private capital poured into early-stage companies across defense, AI, autonomy, cyber, space, communications, robotics, energy, and advanced manufacturing.

That movement mattered. It helped create a new generation of national-security companies outside the traditional defense-industrial base.

But startup land is no longer the only opportunity.

A much larger pool of capital is now looking for what comes next. That includes growth equity, private equity, infrastructure funds, family offices, pension capital, and institutional investors that may not want early-stage technology risk but understand industrial businesses, hard assets, recurring cash flow, and long-duration infrastructure.

The next phase is not just building new companies. It is acquiring, recapitalizing, modernizing, and scaling strategic assets that already exist.

That includes mines, processing facilities, ports, defense suppliers, energy infrastructure, semiconductor capacity, logistics networks, telecommunications, and advanced manufacturing.

It also includes rebuilding advanced and autonomous shipbuilding capabilities. The United States does not simply need better ship designs. It needs modern yards, modular production, digital engineering, robotic fabrication, advanced materials, and the ability to produce autonomous surface and undersea systems at scale.

Capital that modernizes shipyards and expands autonomous maritime production is not investing in just another industrial theme. It is investing directly in deterrence.

These sectors are not merely investment categories. They are components of national power.

Private equity already knows how to fight

None of this requires inventing a new financial discipline.

Private equity firms, distressed investors, activist funds, and turnaround specialists already know how to identify weak assets, acquire companies during periods of dislocation, restructure liabilities, replace poor management, consolidate industries, and create value where others see a mess.

In many ways, corporate raiding and economic warfare are already part of the private-equity world. The terminology may be different, but the mechanics are familiar: pressure, leverage, information, timing, capital, and execution. The opportunity now is to pursue profit while also strengthening the economic and national security of the United States and its allies.

That does not mean investors should accept poor returns in the name of patriotism. The model only works if the investments are commercially sound.

Buy the mine because it is undervalued and strategically important. Recapitalize the manufacturer because it can generate a return and rebuild domestic capacity. Finance the port because it is a good asset and reduces adversarial leverage. Modernize the shipyard because it can become profitable while restoring critical naval capacity.

Profit and patriotism do not have to be competing ideas.

A modern Letter of Marque

There is a useful historical precedent.

In the early United States, Congress could issue Letters of Marque and Reprisal. Privately financed vessels were authorized to capture enemy shipping under a legal framework established by government.

The private sector supplied the ships, crews, and capital and accepted the risk. Government defined the adversary, set the rules, and provided legal authority.

The modern lesson is not that investors should be turned loose to seize assets outside the law. It is that America has used public authority before to direct private risk-taking toward national objectives.

A modern equivalent would be financial, legal, and commercial. It could include tax-advantaged national-security funds, political-risk insurance, export-credit support, allied co-investment vehicles, faster regulatory review for strategic acquisitions, purchasing commitments, and carefully managed threat briefings for vetted investors.

Government sets the conditions.

Private capital finds the opportunity, performs the diligence, assumes the risk, improves the asset, and earns the return.

That is not piracy. It is economic statecraft through markets.

Government should set the objective, not run the deal

Government has an important role, but it needs to understand its limitations.

It should identify strategic priorities, provide clear demand signals, enforce laws, share appropriate threat information, and create incentives where markets are not properly pricing national-security risk.

What it should not do is try to become a venture capitalist, private-equity manager, or operating executive. A venture-capital model is useful: signal the problem, invite multiple solutions, fund in stages, establish measurable milestones, scale what works, and stop funding what does not.

We do not need another innovation command or working group that spends two years admiring the problem.

We need clear objectives, credible markets, and room for professionals to execute.

The Americas should be the first major test

This approach is especially important in Latin America.

Chinese capital has expanded across the region through mining, energy, ports, telecommunications, logistics, agriculture, and manufacturing. Washington cannot simply warn governments and business families about Chinese influence and expect them to walk away from available financing.

Western capital must compete.

A modern economic Marshall Plan for the Americas should be driven largely by private investment, working alongside aligned governments, local families, entrepreneurs, and industrial groups.

The pitch should be practical: better capital, better governance, stronger local partnerships, more jobs, and a business model that leaves more value in the country.

That is how Chinese influence gets displaced—by offering something better, not simply issuing warnings from Washington.

The fiscal argument matters

There is also a major federal-budget advantage.

Under the traditional model, government identifies a strategic need, appropriates taxpayer money, creates a program office, hires contractors, and carries most of the financial risk.

Private capital changes that equation.

Investors fund the companies and acquisitions. They absorb losses when investments fail. When they succeed, they create jobs, profits, tax revenue, industrial capacity, and stronger supply chains.

Government gains capability without paying the entire bill.

This does not eliminate the need for defense budgets, grants, procurement, or public infrastructure. Some missions only the government can perform. But every strategic capability financed primarily by private investors is one less burden placed entirely on the federal balance sheet.

That is not deficit reduction through austerity. It is deficit reduction through growth, investment, and a larger tax base.

Capital is becoming an instrument of national power

Cold War 2.0 will be shaped by AI, autonomy, cyber, space, critical minerals, energy, biotechnology, advanced manufacturing, autonomous shipbuilding, logistics, and financial networks.

The next Manhattan Project will not be one building or weapons program. It will be an ecosystem of investors, entrepreneurs, private-equity firms, family offices, corporations, universities, operators, and national-security professionals working toward aligned outcomes.

The CCP has shown what centralized state power can do when fused with capital.

The West’s answer should be the full mobilization of free enterprise.

Cold War 2.0 will be won as much in boardrooms, factories, ports, shipyards, bankruptcy courts, and investment

committees as on traditional battlefields.

Capital is not simply financing the arsenal anymore.

Capital is becoming the arsenal.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

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The Department of War has just executed the most ambitious acquisition reform in six decades. It scrapped JCIDS — the requirements process that ossified innovation for a generation; replaced program offices with portfolio executives, and built a Warfighting Acquisition System designed for speed.

The changes deliver on years of reform proposals. They also risk repeating a costly mistake of the post-9/11 wars: chasing evolving threats with rapid fixes while no one is responsible for understanding them. Industry will help determine which path prevails.

Counter-drone fight as test case. We’ve seen this movie before

Consider the counter-drone fight, the clearest test of the new system. Washington treats it as an engineering puzzle: build a better jammer, field a cheaper interceptor. The technology shelf is full — directed-energy weapons at $12 a shot, drone-on-drone interceptors with more than a thousand kills in Ukraine.

While the technology works, the process for getting it to the warfighter does not.

Soldiers today engage FPV drones that cost a few hundred dollars with $400,000 Stinger missiles, because the cheap interceptors proven in Ukraine still have no fast path into U.S. formations. A new drone variant appears on the battlefield every week, built from commercial parts and open-source software. A firmware update that defeats a jammer costs nothing and takes hours. Our counter, even through the reformed system, takes months.

This is not a technology gap. It is a cycle-time gap. And I have seen it before. From 2010 to 2013, I led the Army’s Rapid Equipping Force at the height of the counter-IED campaign in Afghanistan. The structural parallels are exact: cheap dual-use components, knowledge that spreads faster than countermeasures, adaptation at near-zero cost, tactical variation that defeats one-size-fits-all solutions, and an institutional reflex to throw technology at a systems problem. We spent $75 billion on counter-IED and lost that fight anyway. Drones are IEDs that fly.

The part nobody owns

Here is what the reforms miss: Successful innovation runs in six phases — detect, define, develop, deploy, assess, distribute. The reforms invested almost entirely in the middle two, develop and deploy. Nobody persistently monitors how the threat evolves at the tactical edge. Nobody scopes each unit’s problem with enough precision to drive useful solutions. Nobody measures whether fielded systems actually work against an adversary who adapts after every engagement. And nobody moves what one unit learns to every other unit facing the same threat at operational speed. Three of the six phases have no organizational owner.

The department built a faster engine. Nobody built the steering — the mechanism that decides which problems the engine should be pointed at, whether the solutions worked, and who else needs to know.

Industry’s new role

That gap is the industry's opportunity — and its obligation. The DoW can’t solve this problem by itself. Companies that want to matter in this market need to do their part. They should start by doing three things differently.

First, invest in problem discovery, not product pitches. Requirements still originate in headquarters, not from soldiers watching the problem in context. The companies that win the next decade will be the ones that put engineers and business developers forward with operational units to understand problems before proposing solutions. The quality of your solution is determined by the quality of the problem you choose to solve. Einstein’s formula applies: 55 minutes on the problem, five on the solution. Most of industry has that ratio inverted.

Second, build for adaptation, not for the requirement. If your product cannot change in weeks — modular hardware, software-defined behavior, upgrades at firmware speed — it is obsolete on delivery. The adversary’s development cycle runs in days. A requirement frozen at contract award is a snapshot of a threat that no longer exists.

Third, plug into the new portfolio structure as a sensor, not just a supplier. Industry keeps asking the department for a clearer demand signal, and fairly so. But the demand signal has to come from somewhere, and the fusion cells that Portfolio Acquisition Executives need — nodes that merge ground truth from the field with what industry and the labs know is possible — cannot function without industry feeding data in and absorbing assessment data out. Companies that operate at that tempo will define the portfolios. Companies that wait for RFPs will trail them.

Doing these three things means stopping three others. Stop building to frozen requirements and calling it responsiveness. Stop treating a prototype contract or a demo-day win as the finish line — it is the starting line of the assessment the department never runs. And stop spending capture budgets decoding what headquarters wants instead of discovering what the warfighter needs. The hours are the same; the direction is not.

New authorities need new operators

None of this works without people, and people are where the reform agenda is thinnest. The department is converting the Defense Acquisition University into a Warfighting Acquisition University, trading compliance training for scenario-based judgment. That is the right instinct. But this year’s defense authorization offered little else on workforce, which means the authorities changed faster than the people who must wield them.

We know what works: experiential, problem-first education. Hacking for Defense has spent a decade putting university students to work on real national security problems alongside the people who own them. It has produced a generation of founders and public servants who know how to interrogate a problem before building a solution. That model needs to scale — into the department’s schoolhouses, into two-way exchanges between government and industry, and into industry’s own training pipelines, which today produce engineers who have never seen the field and capture teams fluent in the FAR but not in the mission.

The department has reformed how it acquires. It has not yet reformed what it acquires, whether it worked, or who else needs to know. Industry can wait – and hope – the government will close that gap, or it can help close it — by discovering problems & opportunities at the edge, building for adaptation, and educating a workforce trained to out-cycle an adversary rather than out-comply a regulation.

In this fight, the adversary does not need to out-technology us. He only needs to out-cycle us. We have already paid $75 billion to learn where that leads.

Pete Newell is a retired U.S. Army colonel, former director of the Army’s Rapid Equipping Force, and CEO of BMNT. He co-created Hacking for Defense with Steve Blank and is the author of “The Innovation Targeting Cycle.”

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

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Tell the Russian people about the carnage in Russia’s war with Ukraine. Tell them about the Russian lives lost and the crushing financial cost of a five-year invasion of a sovereign nation. Former President Ronald Reagan ensured that he got information into the former Soviet Union to truthfully speak to the people about their government’s lies about the cost – in lives and money – of their war in Afghanistan. After ten years, in 1989, the Soviets withdrew from Afghanistan, the final chapter in the Cold War.

Russia’s Vladimi Putin seemingly doesn’t care about the Russian lives lost or the crushing financial cost of a five-year invasion of Ukraine. Over 1.4 million Russian casualties (killed, wounded, missing, or captured), and over 500,000 killed at a cost of over $500 billion. Are the people in Russia aware of the magnitude of this tragedy? Are they aware of Mr. Putin’s view that Ukraine has no right to exist and he is justified in invading a sovereign Ukraine that gave up its nuclear weapons for security assurances?

Indeed, Ukraine’s casualties are over 600,000, with close to 140,000 killed, including 16,000 civilians. The cost so far is close to $600 billion, with a price tag of $U.S. 1 trillion to reconstruct a devastated Ukraine. This is the price Ukraine is paying because of the Russian invasion and Mr. Putin’s goal of attempting to recreate the Russian empire.

President Donald Trump has reached out to Mr. Putin numerous times to secure a cease fire and an eventual peace treaty. To date, those efforts have been unsuccessful, but Mr. Trump persists, fortunately. But until we secure a cease fire, Ukraine needs the support of the U.S. and the European Union, for the weapons and missile defense systems needed for its survival.

Fortunately, the recent NATO Summit of 32 allied countries reaffirmed their strong support to Ukraine, pledging 70 billion Euros to Ukraine and giving Ukraine a green light to produce PATRIOT missile interceptors.

But the U.S. – and our NATO allies -- can do more to get the truth to the Russian people. The truth about the hundreds of thousands of Russians killed in Ukraine and the bereaved families that are paying the ultimate price.

Although the United States Information Agency closed in October 1999, it transferred its important mission to the Department of State. And hopefully our colleagues at State are working hard to ensure that we are getting the message to the Russian people that the war must end; that they and the people in Ukraine have suffered enough. That Mr. Putin and his cronies need to explain why so many men and women died, in a war Mr. Putin created, as he enriches himself. A war that has made the Russian Federation a pariah state.

This should be a whole government mission: to disseminate primarily in Russia the truth about the hundreds of thousands of Russians (and Ukrainians) killed and maimed in a war created by an arrogant and inept Putin.

Although the audience for this important message is the Russian people, China should also be mindful of the tragedy of the war in Ukraine. Indeed, China is aligned with a Russian pariah state, heavily sanctioned by the international community. Is this the image China wants to share with the world?

The NATO Summit was clear in its support of Ukraine, the victim of a cruel and brutal Russian invasion. It’s time for the Russian government to listen to the Russian people and end this bloody war.

The author is the former associate director of national intelligence. All statement of fact, opinion or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the U.S. government. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying U.S. government authentication of information or endorsement of the author’s views.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

It was with alarm that I read the recent New York Times article reporting the regurgitation of a truly terrible idea that, like a bad meal, continues to come up every several years.

The Times reports that the Office of the Director of National Intelligence

is demanding that American intelligence officials turn over the names of all foreign espionage targets, including suspected spies and potential recruits, to create a master list, to avoid inadvertent conflicts between agencies and to better track foreign intelligence threats in real time.

A primary task of any corporate security department or Federal counterintelligence activity is to prevent, deter, and detect human and technical compromises of sensitive information. Even innocent errors can result in massive damage when they reveal sensitive information. Nor is it a secret that any large organization, no matter how carefully it screens its people, may have persons in its ranks who would betray their colleagues and their country. And of course, malign foreign actors routinely seek to access U.S. information systems and classified computing resources.

Just as a comprehensive list of CIA employees, including covert officers serving in dangerous locations, would be of great value to any number of foreign adversaries, so too would the proposed list of espionage targets, suspected spies, and potential recruits. And the drawbacks associated with creating such a list are significant - and potentially catastrophic.

The mere process of assembling the relevant data from within separate departments and agencies would require the assembling of multiple intermediate lists -for example, all subjects of interest from multiple operating components of the FBI, CIA, and additional agencies, each one of which would pose a separate significant and potentially catastrophic counterintelligence vulnerability. Compiled into a single comprehensive set, the theft or leak of the combined list would work incalculable damage to the United States.

Similar proposals have been made for decades. At the very best, they are a solution in search of a problem; for every time two or more agencies trip over one another in the pursuit of intelligence opportunities, there are literally hundreds more occasions in which the existing deconfliction arrangements work exactly as they should.

I spent several years in an ODNI policy position when the Office was first created. From time to time I encountered colleagues from one or another part of the Government, or from outside the Government completely, who sought to establish policies and procedures to address some obscure, long-since resolved, or simply imagined pet peeve. While some concerns truly reflect structural obstacles and warrant serious consideration, sometimes the most responsible thing to do is simply draw the line and withdraw a truly bad proposal. This is one of those times.

Jonathan M. Fredman is a Non-Resident Fellow at the Princeton University School of Public and International Affairs. He spent 36 years in legal and policy positions at the Central Intelligence Agency and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence.

All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the U.S. Government. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying U.S. Government authentication of information or endorsement of the author's views.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

The collapse of Afghanistan in August 2021 is still widely interpreted as a military or political failure. That interpretation is incomplete.

Afghanistan collapsed because it lost the cognitive war long before it lost territory.

Inside the system, we did not face a simple insurgency. We faced a persistent contest over how reality was defined, how legitimacy was perceived, and how decisions were made. The Taliban did not defeat the Afghan state by force alone. Regional actors did not undermine it through proxies alone. The deeper failure was this: the Afghan state never fully aligned its political identity with the way its people understood themselves.

That misalignment became a vulnerability - and in the gray zone, vulnerabilities are not observed; they are exploited.

The Cognitive Gap at the Center of the State

Every state rests on an implicit agreement between its people and its institutions: a shared understanding of identity, legitimacy, and purpose. In Afghanistan, that agreement was never fully stabilized.

The modern state carried the name “Afghanistan,” historically associated with a specific ethnopolitical identity. Yet the lived reality of the country was far more complex-linguistically, culturally, and historically. For many citizens, identity was rooted not in the modern state construct, but in a deeper civilizational memory: Khurasan.

This was not nostalgia. It was cognition.

Khurasan represented a mental map that connected Herat to Nishapur, Balkh to Bukhara, Kabul to a wider intellectual and cultural ecosystem. It was inclusive, fluid, and expansive. Afghanistan, by contrast, became a bounded political construct, defined by borders drawn through imperial competition and reinforced through centralized power struggles.

This divergence created a cognitive gap: the state operated under one identity framework, while large parts of society operated under another.

In a stable environment, such gaps can be managed. In a contested environment - especially under gray zone pressure - they become strategic liabilities.

From Identity Misalignment to Decision Failure

Cognitive gaps do not remain abstract. They translate directly into how decisions are made.

Inside government, this misalignment manifested in three critical ways.

First, trust was fragmented. Decisions that should have been based on competence and mission effectiveness were filtered through identity, faction, and perceived alignment. This weakened institutions at their core.

Second, intelligence was politicized. When leadership does not share a stable understanding of the state it governs, intelligence becomes contested terrain. Information is not only collected - it is interpreted through competing lenses of identity and interest.

Third, legitimacy was shallow. Citizens interacted with the state, but many did not internalize it as fully their own. That distinction is decisive. A state that is not cognitively owned cannot be strategically defended.

These were not theoretical weaknesses. They shaped daily governance, security coordination, and strategic planning. And they created the conditions for external actors to operate with precision.

Gray Zone Exploitation: Attacking the Mind, Not the Border

Afghanistan became a textbook case of gray zone competition.

Regional actors did not need to defeat the state conventionally. They exploited its cognitive vulnerabilities.

Pakistan leveraged identity divisions through the Taliban, framing them as authentic defenders of religion and tradition. Iran used cultural and sectarian narratives to extend influence in parallel networks. Russia and China approached Afghanistan as a space of managed instability, where influence could be expanded without direct confrontation.

These were not isolated actions. They were coordinated forms of cognitive warfare - targeting how citizens perceived their state, their leadership, and their future.

As one senior U.S. official recently noted, modern adversaries are engaged in a “persistent, persuasive campaign of cognitive warfare… shaping how societies see reality, trust, and decide.”

Afghanistan was already vulnerable to such campaigns because its internal narrative was never fully consolidated.

The Taliban’s Cognitive Strategy

The Taliban’s success cannot be understood without recognizing its cognitive dimension.

They did not present themselves only as a fighting force. They presented themselves as a corrective identity, a return to authenticity, faith, and order. At the same time, they framed the Republic as externally imposed, corrupt, and disconnected from the society.

This narrative was not universally accepted. But it did not need to be. It only needed to create doubt.

Cognitive warfare is not about replacing reality. It is about degrading confidence in reality.

As trust in institutions eroded, as leadership appeared divided, and as international commitment became uncertain, the Taliban’s narrative gained relative strength. The battlefield shifted from territory to perception. By the time military collapse came, cognitive collapse had already taken place.

The Strategic Vacuum: Who Defines Khurasan?

One of the most dangerous developments today is the appropriation of the term “Khorasan” by extremist groups such as ISIS-K.

This is not accidental. It is strategic.

When legitimate actors fail to define identity, adversaries will weaponize it. ISIS-K uses “Khorasan” to project a mythical, apocalyptic narrative designed to attract recruits and legitimize violence.

This creates a second-order threat. Not only is the state weakened, but its deeper civilizational identity is being redefined by actors who reject its intellectual, cultural, and inclusive legacy.

In cognitive warfare, naming is power.

If Khurasan is defined by extremists, it becomes a tool of radicalization. If it is reclaimed as a civilizational identity rooted in knowledge, trade, and coexistence, it becomes a counterweight to both extremism and fragmentation.

The Failure of State-Building as Cognitive Strategy

The international intervention between 2001 and 2021 achieved significant tactical and developmental gains. But it failed to address the cognitive dimension of state-building.

Institutions were built. Capacity was developed. Elections were held. But the deeper question - how the state was understood and internalized by its people - was never fully resolved.

This produced a structural imbalance:

• A state that functioned administratively but not psychologically
• A security force that fought effectively but lacked a unified narrative
• A political system that operated formally but remained contested internally

In effect, we built a state without fully securing its cognitive foundation.

Toward Cognitive Realignment

Any future strategy for Afghanistan - and the broader region - must begin with cognitive realism.

First, policymakers must recognize that identity is not symbolic. It is operational. It shapes legitimacy, decision-making, and resilience under pressure.

Second, engagement must move beyond traditional state-building toward cognitive alignment. Governance structures must reflect the diversity and lived reality of the population, not impose narrow frameworks that generate resistance.

Third, investment in cognitive infrastructure is essential. Education, narrative development, and diaspora engagement are not secondary tools, they are central to long-term stability.

Fourth, the region must be reframed. Afghanistan should not be treated solely as a battlefield or buffer. Historically, as Khurasan, it functioned as a connector of regions, ideas, and economies. That perspective remains strategically relevant.

Conclusion: Stabilizing Meaning

The lesson of Afghanistan is not that state-building is impossible. It is that state-building without cognitive alignment is unsustainable.

For two decades, we focused on stabilizing territory, institutions, and security forces. We underestimated the importance of stabilizing meaning - how people understood the state, and whether they believed in it.

In modern competition, that is where advantage is decided.

The next battlefield is not territory. It is perception. It is cognition. It is the ability to shape how societies interpret reality and make decisions.

Afghanistan did not lose only because it was attacked. It lost because it could not fully define itself in a contested cognitive environment.

Reclaiming Khurasan, therefore, is not about returning to the past. It is about restoring a coherent, inclusive framework of identity that can withstand manipulation, resist fragmentation, and support legitimate governance.

Until that alignment is achieved, any political structure - no matter how well funded or defended - will remain vulnerable.

Because in the end, states do not collapse only when they lose control of land.

They collapse when they lose control of meaning.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

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Agent 711 was one of the most effective and least known spies in our nation's history. He used dead drops to communicate about enemy plans. He used secret chemical processes to create new forms of invisible ink. He spread disinformation to disguise his own troops' movements and confuse the enemy. The year was 1778. Agent 711 was George Washington. He was our nation's first spymaster, and his network of informants was the Culper spy ring. It was one of several that he ran through the war and also during his time as president. Washington's army was undermanned, underfunded, frequently on the run. He knew he needed an edge, and he found it with intelligence. A British intelligence officer later said Washington did not really outfight the British — he simply outspied us.

At the same time, as a young nation was leaning heavily into its very first intelligence community, Thomas Paine was inspiring a nation to democracy. He had ideas about equality, rights, and the limits of government — revolutionary ideas for the time. He had ideas about power: it was not a divine right handed down to a monarch, but power rested in the hands of the people. Government borrows that power for a time, within limits. The representatives of that government are meant to be of the people and return to lives among the people, not to be separate or above or disconnected from what's going on among them.

Thus, our nation was born, not out of a tension between intelligence and democracy, but as an alchemical mix of both. We carry these ideas forward into a modern context. Power rests with the people. They loan it to the government. We trade some of our liberty for things that no one person can provide — roads, the power grid, police, submarines, national security. In exchange, we demand things of our government: accountability, adjustments, change, transparency. But we also demand security, and we demand economic prosperity. That's the life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness part.

It's easy to forget that there are still those in the world who wish to take these things away from us. It's also in part generational — today’s college graduates were not alive during 9/11 or had maybe just been born. There are still terrorists and cartels who wish to take life. China seeks to take liberty — they want to subjugate people to their will, as they've done in Tibet, in Hong Kong, as they're attempting to do in Taiwan. Russia wants to end the pursuit of happiness. Some men truly do just want to watch the whole world burn to make themselves feel better, and Putin is one of those. Rather, they want happiness on their terms. This looks like power for the elite few oligarchs around Vladimir Putin, while he sends the poor to fight his war in Ukraine. It looks like the ruling elite of the CCP and their little princelings. They want order. They want to take liberty to hold power. The state has shown, in their case, security, but only for the few.

Why? Because liberty is messy. It is a struggle. It's making our own way while everyone else does the same. It's making space for ourselves and for each other, and when those spaces conflict, we figure it out. Thomas Paine wrote that “when we speak of rights, we ought always to unite them with the idea of duties — rights become duties by reciprocity: the right which I enjoy becomes my duty to guarantee to others, and he to me.” So today we are the guarantors of each other's rights. In Paine's time that looked like representative democracy and a little bit of revolution. Today, specifically with regard to spy work, it is a hard concept to wrap your head around — it's actually protection of rights by proxy.

In my pocket I carry a coin — the first one made for the Senate Intelligence Committee, on which I served for six years. On one side is Washington's seal, to represent our very first spymaster and to honor the intelligence officers who were so instrumental to the birth of this nation. But there are also two sets of stars on this coin. There's a set of 15 around the outside that represents the 15 members of the Senate Intelligence Committee, who represent the entirety of the Senate. And then on the other side there are a hundred stars representing the Senate as a whole.

Why are there two layers? The 100 senators represent the entire country. The 15 members of the committee represent the Senate. Just as Washington went to great pains to encode secret messages and hide what he knew from the British army, secrets today must stay secret — the more people who know a thing, the less likely something is to stay secret. The intel committees are there to be the eyes and ears of the entire Senate or the House, and by extension the nation. These committees were designed to bring things back into balance.

During the 1960s and 1970s, another time of intense national upheaval, the IC got way out of hand — spying on political figures like Martin Luther King, attempting assassinations of foreign leaders, and engaging in massive propaganda campaigns. The Church and Pike committees united to investigate and create both the Senate Intelligence Committee and the House Intelligence Committee, to provide permanent, comprehensive oversight to keep this balance.

People who don't know intelligence work think that it's all-powerful and full of abuse. They see the spy thrillers that are in the movies. They think the 1970s continue today. But people who do know it, know it's a microcosm of liberty. It's messy. It's flawed. But it's also full of checks, balances, and people doing the right thing. These are my friends and former colleagues. They look like me. They look like you. They miss dinners with families. They put themselves in harm's way. They don't get parades. They don't get early boarding on flights. They don't get military discounts. They just do the work.

For us as a country, I fear there are rough seas ahead. We face two revisionist powers that, like King George III, believed that one person should be in charge through might alone. These people want to set up a false choice: freedom or security, not both. But the truth is that freedom and security are deeply intertwined. It is fear that leads to that false choice. On the one hand, dictators fear chaos — they think that people will come to understand that their oppressive dear leader does not, in fact, have their interests at heart. The supposed strongman is actually terrified. He's desperate to hold on to power. On the other hand, amongst some, there is fear the security mission will take over and become too big, too powerful, lodged in the hands of someone who is too power-hungry. But the goal is balance. We need Washington's spy ring. We also need Paine's ideals. And we need them working together.

One further reflection on that Paine quote: the rights I enjoy, I also guarantee to others. This is perhaps most true for those who operate in the shadows. They guarantee the rights of fellow citizens day in and day out, with a million small decisions, even when no one is watching. Democracy enables good spy work — only in a democracy can you walk into the Oval Office and deliver truly terrible news to power, tell the president things have gone sideways, and work together to fix it.

Spy work also makes democracy possible. I look forward to a day where there are no enemies; no one who seeks to assert ultimate power over others. That day I will have happily worked myself out of a job. But it is not today. Today I am fully employed attempting to create deterrence, know our adversaries, create a future of peace through strength. I have sworn an oath to support and defend the Constitution four times in my life, and hopefully one day I'll do it a fifth, but inside government or out, trying to work for democracy, for freedom, for a secure America and a secure world is the mission.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

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“In addition to supporting OEF (Operation Epic Fury, the Iran War) costs incurred by DOW (Department of War), the [$87.6 billion Fiscal Year FY 2026 Supplemental Trump administration] request provides $768 million to the Department of Energy to support nuclear and other energy security requirements, primarily for the National Nuclear Security Administration (NNSA) for OEF-related activities.”

I was intrigued by that segment, from a June 24 letter to House Speaker Rep. Mike Johnson (R-La.) from Trump’s Office of Management and Budget Director Russell T. Vought, because I could not imagine what costly “nuclear and other energy security requirements” NNSA – the U.S. nuclear weapons complex – could be playing in the Iran War.

However, a chart attached to Vought’s letter said that $672 million was for NNSA to fund “activities for complete and verifiable termination of Iran’s ability to develop or acquire a nuclear weapon, including the disposition of proliferation sensitive material, technology, equipment, and infrastructure.”

Another $95.5 million, destined for the Department of Energy’s Environmental and Other Defense Activities elements, was listed for “support of Operation Epic Fury and other classified purposes.”

Perhaps members of the Senate Armed Services Committee can find out about the plans behind this $782 million package for NNSA and Energy this morning [July 14], when they question Jules W. Hurst III, who is up for confirmation as Under Secretary of Defense (Comptroller).

By the way, when was the last time a U.S. President went to war and added a tax to help pay for it? As an old-timer I remember – it was 1968, when then-President Lyndon Johnson got Congress to pass a nine-month, 10 percent surcharge on individual and corporate taxpayers to help pay for the Vietnam War. Low-income individual taxpayers were entirely exempt from the surcharge.

Since then, both Republican and Democratic Presidents used deficit spending and borrowing to pay for military conflicts. So far this year, the nation’s total deficit has increased through May 2026 by $1.25 trillion, according to the Treasury Department, with Defense Department spending running $20 billion more through May 2026, than it was last year.

But I remind you, Congress now has three defense funding requests before it: a $1.1 trillion FY 2027 base budget request; an additional $350 billion request to be placed in a 2026 reconciliation package; and now the new FY 2026 supplemental request, which has $67 billion for the Defense Department.

No one can say for sure how Congress will deal with these requests that total over $1.5 trillion.

For comparison, I point out that according to a December 8, 2014, Congressional Research Service study, Congress, over the prior 13 years, approved total appropriations of $1.6 trillion for Afghan and Iraq “military operations, base support, weapons maintenance, training of Afghan and Iraq security forces, reconstruction, foreign aid, embassy costs, and veterans’ health care for the war operations initiated since the 9/11[2001] attacks.”

What the Vought chart also shows is that almost 23 percent of the funds in what has been described as the Iran War supplemental, went for different and, in some cases, totally unrelated purposes that I will describe below.

As for the NNSA money, a FoxNews story June 24, said, “The funding would support the removal and elimination of Iranian nuclear materials, including uranium hexafluoride (UF6), uranium in various forms and research reactor fuel, including highly-enriched uranium, according to details shared by a White House official.”

FoxNews also said, “The request also would fund U.S. verification activities inside Iran, support inspections by the International Atomic Energy Agency, strengthen nuclear-smuggling detection efforts and expand Nuclear Emergency Support Team operations across the Middle East.”

In short, Trump is asking for funds to deal with Iran’s enriched uranium before he has any agreement with Tehran that gives the U.S. access to that material.

Perhaps Trump thinks in the end he will have immediate success with Tehran as in he did in Venezuela. There, after the U.S. seized President Nicolas Maduro in January 2026, and four months later, in May, NNSA removed from Venezuela 13.54 kilograms – approximately 30 pounds – of highly-enriched uranium from a legacy research reactor in that country which had been shut down since the early 1990s.

The supplemental request also contains $1.5 billion for the State Department’s of which $850 million is for the Counter-Unmanned Aircraft Systems program at high-risk diplomatic posts overseas along with security upgrades and equipment replacement. Another $300 million for Embassy construction and maintenance would be used to address needs following the start of the Iran war in Bahrain, Dubai, Karachi, Lahore and Riyadh, according to the Vought chart.

The State request also includes $100 million for the Diplomatic and Consular Service account to meet unanticipated needs related to the Middle East situation including departure assistance to U.S. citizens seeking to leave the region with their families. Transfer authority and an increase in repatriation loan level is also being requested to meet the needs of destitute U.S. citizens.

Another $1.35 billion for the State Department is sought to deal with the Ebola Virus, or as Vought put it in his letter to Speaker Johnson, “These funds would be used to limit the spread of Ebola beyond the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Uganda to other vulnerable nations and ensure the virus does not reach U.S. shores.”

Some $800 million for State is proposed for the International Humanitarian Assistance account, formerly managed by USAID, and another $550 million for Global Health Security, which funds “would support contact tracing, personal protective equipment and commodity procurement, disease surveillance, laboratory capacity, and cross-border coordination,” according to the Vought chart.

There is another $2 billion for the U.S. Coast Guard to support OEF where Pentagon “assets are not available to support Western Hemisphere operations. This includes funding for operations at the Southern Border, ” according to the Vought chart.

Meanwhile, the largest amount, other than for OEF in the supplemental, is $11.1 billion for the Agriculture Department, the bulk of which, $10 billion, would be for American farmers as “temporary economic assistance for row and specialty crops planted in crop year 2026,” according to the Vought chart. An additional $1.1 billion is being requested specifically for farmers in Florida “to rebound from devastating losses that were the result of crippling storms this past winter.”

I believe that money has political implications because rural Americans are pulling away from the President. As Brookings Institution polling recently showed, “Only 24% of white rural voters think that the condition of the economy is excellent or good, while 77% rate it as fair or poor. Just 16% say their family’s financial situation is better than it was two years ago (near the end of the Biden administration), compared to 49% who say they are worse off.”

Then there is $1 billion in the war supplemental to assist in the final design and construction for renovation of New York City’s Penn Station. In a New York Times op-ed last Friday, Rep. Jerold Nadler (D-N.Y.) said that the White House last year took control of the $8 billion Penn Station project from the [New York] Metropolitan Transportation Authority.

Rep. Nadler wrote, “Behind closed doors, Mr. Trump has already attempted a quid-pro-quo, offering federal funding for New York’s transit needs only if Penn Station and [Virginia’s] Dulles Airport are renamed for him.”

However, Nadler also noted, “It’s still $7 billion short, and with top appropriators already opposing the supplemental funding request, it’s unlikely to be approved anyway.”

Another $1 billion in the war supplemental, according to the Vought chart, is for the Labor Department’s Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation “to increase the benefit levels for participants of certain pension plans that were sponsored by Delphi Corporation and terminated as a result of General Motors ' bankruptcy in 2009.”

The money would reverse pension reductions for some 20,000 retirees that have spent years arguing their pensions were unfairly reduced after the Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation assumed responsibility for the company’s pension plans during GM’s 2009 financial crisis.

According to the Detroit Free Press, “Various legislative efforts to restore the benefits have failed or stalled, despite bipartisan support. Perhaps knowing it's a potentially powerful issue in the Midwest, Trump (and President Joe Biden before him) has signaled his support of the workers in politically sensitive moments such as just before the 2020 election.”

Then there is $500 million for the National Park Service in Washington, D.C. for, as the Vought chart explains, improvements to the World War II Memorial on the Mall and restoration and construction for the Tidal Basin Seawall along West Potomac Park to include the planting of hundreds of new cherry trees and stabilizing the surrounding grounds.

Last Friday, the conservative group Americans for Prosperity pointed out that even the supplemental’s defense and Iran-related spending “deserve further scrutiny,” noting that $15.6 billion for the Pentagon are justified by Vought simply as “Administration priorities,” “Readiness,” and “Classified Programs.”

In fact, I think the whole package needs congressional oversight, and from the reactions of some key Senate and House leaders, that’s what it’s going to get.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

Welcome to The Iron Triangle, the Cipher Brief column serving Procurement Officers tasked with buying the future, Investors funding the next generation of defense technology, and the Policy Wonks analyzing its impact on the global order.

A little over a year ago I watched a good company die. They built technology that worked. It was not a slide or a concept, but a thing that did what it was designed to do. They had European clients interested, checkbook open, at exactly the moment Europeans started opening checkbooks for real. They did not close the deal. They could not figure out how to export their product without tripping over the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR), they could not afford the lawyer who could tell them, and they ran out of runway waiting on a U.S. contract that was still three review cycles from signatures. The technology did not fail. The paperwork won.

Around the same time, I sat with a foreign team with excellent tech who wanted to build in the United States. They decided against it. Their reason was not taxes or visas. It was that the moment their intellectual property became American, it might become ITAR-controlled, and they were terrified that a regulation written in Washington would strand the hardware they were shipping to Ukraine to kill Russians. Restated, our export-control regime is so feared that talented people keep their best work out of the American ecosystem. That is not security. That is self-harm.

The $3,000 Toll to Export Nothing

Start with the cost of admission. To legally export a defense article, you first register with the State Department's Directorate of Defense Trade Controls (DDTC). As of January 2025 the base registration fee rose to $3,000 a year, and you pay it whether or not you ever ship a single item. That fee is the insult, not the injury. It’s the trivial part that buys you the right to then apply, per transaction, for a DSP-5 license, a process that consumes months, specialized counsel, and a full-time compliance officer that a nine-person startup does not have and cannot afford to hire.

For Lockheed Martin, this is a rounding error and a competitive moat all at once. The primes have entire floors of export-control lawyers; the regulation that annoys them is the regulation that buries smaller companies. The same $250,000-a-year compliance function is a nuisance on a $61 billion contract base and a death sentence on a Series A. ITAR does not have to be designed as a moat to function as one.

The See-Through Rule and the Birth of "ITAR-Free"

Here is the part that turns a domestic annoyance into a strategic own-goal. ITAR does not stop at the first sale. Every onward move, a re-export to a third country, a retransfer to a different end user, needs its own license. Control follows the item forever. Two features make this uniquely radioactive. The first is the "see-through rule": American law looks straight through a foreign-built system to control the U.S. part buried inside it. The second is that ITAR, unlike Commerce's export rules, has no de minimis threshold; there is no amount of American content small enough to escape. One controlled datalink in a drone taints the entire aircraft, permanently, and Europe cannot freely sell it onward, or keep sending it to Kyiv, without asking for permission.

So Europe did the rational thing. It started designing us out. "ITAR-free" is now a selling point, a feature you advertise the way you'd advertise waterproofing. The control regime we built to protect technology has taught our allies to build parallel supply chains that don't need us at all. We are not catching diversion. We are losing the room, one clean-sheet component at a time.

We Are Guarding a Henhouse the Fox Already Breeds

Now the objection every serious reader is forming: won't loosening the rules help China? It is the right question, and it deserves an honest answer. Post-sales diversion to Beijing is a threat, and the wall against it should stay standing.

But look at what the small companies I'm talking about actually build; let’s be precise about it. The airframe of an attritable FPV drone is commodity hardware, every component sourceable on Alibaba, and China manufactures the world's drones at a scale and price we cannot approach. Nobody in Beijing is combing American startups for quadcopter know-how. What can be genuinely sensitive is the layer you can't buy on Alibaba: the autonomy stack, the radio's waveform library, the ISR payload's processing. Control that. But applying munitions-grade export control to benign parts isn't guarding the crown jewels. It's standing armed guard over a henhouse the fox already owns, breeds, and exports. Control the narrow band that matters; stop strangling everything downstream of it with rules written for an age when a weapons system took a decade to build and stayed secret for two.

The Money Nobody Talks About

Investors should sit with the scale of the mismatch. In 2025, venture capital poured a record $49.1 billion into defense tech, up more than 80 percent over the year before. It sounds like a golden age until you notice most of it stacked into a handful of nine-figure megarounds while the Forgotten Bench, the small firms building the actual arteries of the future force, fought over grants. A typical DoD SBIR Phase I award runs about $256,000; a Phase II might reach a couple of million, if the company survives the wait. Many do not.

Now hold that against one ITAR-specific insult. On an ordinary afternoon, RTX booked $183.7 million for Patriot hardware bound for the United Arab Emirates. The prime exports to the Gulf on a Tuesday while the startup cannot work out how to ship a drone to a NATO ally. That is not a difference in risk. It is a difference in legal firepower. And the Pentagon posts these awards daily, every one above $7.5 million. The primes' budget rounding errors could fund the next generation of warfare. Instead they accrue to the incumbents while the little guys are fenced out of a market currently on fire.

What Each Corner of the Triangle Should Want

For the Procurement Officer, this is about coalition speed. You cannot field an allied force at the pace of a per-transaction license queue. Interoperability that requires a lawyer is not interoperability.

For the Investor, ITAR reform is a total-addressable-market unlock. European defense budgets have gone vertical, and right now your portfolio company is legally walled off from them. The moat you think protects your prime holdings is the same moat drowning your early-stage investments. Your small companies are not competition for the primes; there is plenty of room for both to be successful.

For the Policy Wonk, the pitch is precision. A control regime that treats a drone like an ATACM has no credibility left to spend when it actually needs to stop something dangerous. Overcontrol is how you get evasion; targeted control is how you get compliance.

The Fix Already Exists: We Just Gave It to Two Countries

We do not have to invent anything. In September 2024, the State Department stood up the AUKUS exemption, a license-free environment for defense trade, between pre-approved, vetted users, the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, fenced by an "Excluded Technology List" that keeps the genuinely sensitive items behind the wall. In an early three-month sample, only 18 percent of requests fell on the excluded list; the other 82 percent could move without a license. The mechanism works; State approved it six months ago.

So extend it, carefully, because this is the part the cynics should watch. AUKUS worked because State vouched for allies whose export-control systems were judged comparable to our own. Thirty-two NATO members are not thirty-two equal risks, so the honest version of this is tiered: the most-trusted governments first, each on its own comparability finding. Build a NATO Trusted Trade tier on the same architecture: license-free authorization for vetted allies on the commodity tier, a narrow excluded list. Industry's loudest complaint about AUKUS is that the list is already too broad. Then build a small-business fast lane that waives the registration toll for firms below a revenue threshold. Keep the wall. Widen the gate. Stop making a startup spend its entire budget on compliance lawyers to sell drones to Poland.

I have spent a career watching good technology lose to bad processes. This is the purest example I know. The threat is real, the fix is proven, and the only thing missing is the will to admit that a rulebook written in the era of glacial weapons development is actively kneecapping the fast, cheap, disposable systems that are winning wars right now. Europe wants viable technology. Our young innovators are starving for a customer. ITAR is standing between them, collecting a $3,000 toll, and calling it national security.

I am not naive about post-sale diversion to China. The real leak in a trusted-ally tier is not China raiding our startups; it is a vetted ally re-exporting onward. This is why truly sensitive items stay behind the wall. A trusted-ally tier is only as good as the "trusted" part: the whitelist has to be policed, the excluded list has to be honest, and end-use monitoring has to be real. I will not pretend reform fixes everything. For some European governments "ITAR-free" is industrial policy, a way to protect their own primes and their own jobs. No amount of American good behavior erases that motive. But reform removes the legitimate excuse, and keeps our companies in contention where today they are auto-excluded. The answer to a blunt instrument is a sharper one, not no instrument at all.

We wrote the words "ITAR-free" onto our allies' marketing brochures ourselves, one anachronistic rule at a time. The question is whether we notice in time to erase them, or we keep guarding the henhouse until the last American startup gives up and the last European customer stops asking. Who are we protecting, and from what?

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

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Military power is meaningless if it cannot move.

Every American war plan, from deterring aggression in Europe to prevailing in the Indo-Pacific, depends on our ability to maneuver people, equipment, fuel, information and combat power faster than any adversary can react. We invest billions in advanced aircraft, ships, satellites and weapons systems, yet every one of these assets depends on transportation and communications networks that the Department of Defense does not own. Washington needs to invest in the cybersecurity of these assets otherwise we risk having troops and materiel that can’t get off the base to the front line.

A tank leaving Fort Cavazos does not magically appear in Europe. An Air Force squadron deploying to the Pacific does not simply launch into combat. Every deployment begins on commercial railroads, moves through civilian ports and airports, depends on privately owned communications networks and increasingly relies on digital logistics systems that connect government and commercial partners.

That is America’s strategic advantage. It is also one of our greatest vulnerabilities.

China does not need to destroy American combat power to gain an advantage. It simply needs to delay it. Every day that equipment sits in a rail yard, every hour a port is offline, every aircraft waylaid by corrupted logistics data or disrupted communications creates exactly the kind of friction an adversary seeks during the opening days of a conflict.

This is not theoretical.

For more than two years, top U.S. intelligence officials have warned that Chinese cyber operators are compromising hundreds of American transportation, communications, energy and logistics systems. They gain persistent access, so that Beijing can disrupt and destroy system at the time of its choosing.

Russia’s cyberattacks against Ukraine’s transportation, energy, and communications infrastructure reveal what this looks like in practice: modern wars are fought as much against the systems that sustain military power as the military itself.

Today’s military power is no longer built solely on concrete, steel and fuel. It is built on networks and connectivity.

Ports rely on automated cranes and digital cargo management systems. Railroads depend on computerized dispatching and signaling. Airports operate through integrated flight planning, air traffic management and logistics software. Fuel distribution, maintenance scheduling, cargo visibility and command and control all depend on data moving securely across interconnected networks.

Imagine a deployment where cargo manifests are corrupted, rail dispatch systems slow movement, satellite communications are degraded and fuel deliveries are redirected through manipulated logistics data. Aircraft still exist. Ships still sail. Soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines and Guardians remain ready to fight. But when the Joint Force begins arriving late and incomplete, the operational tempo required to seize the initiative is lost.

History reminds us why speed matters.

During humanitarian operations following Typhoon Haiyan in the Philippines, the systems underpinning military mobility were the lifeline connecting isolated communities to food, water and medical care. Every hour mattered. Delays translated directly into human suffering.

Combat operations are no different. Time is often the most valuable resource a commander possesses. The same lesson applies in deterrence. The faster America can generate and maneuver combat power, the less likely an adversary is to miscalculate.

Military and commercial networks need to work together to dynamically reroute forces around cyberattacks, infrastructure failures or contested logistics. Decision advantage will increasingly come not from owning more platforms, but from orchestrating movement better than our adversaries can disrupt it.

The problem is that military planners have spent decades assuming that civilian infrastructure will simply be available when mobilization orders are issued. That assumption deserves renewed scrutiny.

The Defense Department has publicly identified which ports, rail corridors and airports are “strategic” and indispensable to national defense. The Department of Homeland Security, U.S. Coast Guard and transportation agencies have been tasked to understand the infrastructure. Commercial operators understand their own networks better than anyone. But somehow the needed public private collaboration to protect these national assets has not occurred and, as a result, many of these communities will come together for the first time during a national emergency.

Congress and the executive branch should establish and harmonize cybersecurity standards across transportation sectors so operators spend more time improving security than satisfying overlapping regulations.

Infrastructure directly supporting military mobility deserves dedicated cybersecurity investment. Smaller ports, airports and rail operators cannot reasonably defend themselves against nation-state adversaries without federal partnership. Congress should provide cybersecurity grant programs for the under-resourced transportation infrastructure operators to address identified vulnerabilities.

Most importantly, America must begin exercising the way it expects to fight.

National, regional and local exercises should assume degraded communications, cyberattacks against transportation systems, corrupted logistics data and contested movement inside the United States. We should practice fighting through disruption instead of assuming perfect connectivity.

There is an old military saying: amateurs study tactics, professionals study logistics.

The next war demands we take one step further.

Victors study maneuver.

America’s adversaries already understand that mobility is our greatest strategic advantage. That is precisely why they are targeting the networks that make it possible.

If America cannot connect, America cannot maneuver. If America cannot move, America cannot fight.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

In the dusty streets of Rawalakot in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir this June, security forces opened fire on demonstrators demanding basic rights and an end to elite privileges. At least 11 people were killed in the clashes, with eyewitnesses and local leaders describing heavy, indiscriminate firing on what began as a largely peaceful protest. Families mourned as authorities claimed “miscreants” had provoked the violence. A year earlier, in March 2025, Pakistan security forces arrested prominent Baloch human rights defender Dr. Mahrang Baloch during a sit-in in Quetta, Balochistan, who was protesting enforced disappearances and police excesses. She now faces life imprisonment on terrorism-related charges widely viewed by rights groups as politically motivated reprisal for her activism against the military’s heavy-handed tactics in Balochistan. These scenes of repression unfold against a backdrop of deepening militarisation in Pakistan. Meanwhile, in Washington, President Trump has repeatedly hosted and publicly praised Pakistan’s Army Chief, Field Marshal Asim Munir—calling him his “favorite” and crediting Pakistan with special insight into Iran.

President Donald Trump’s courtship of Munir may look like transactional statecraft, but it is also dangerously short-sighted. Trump’s administration has leaned on Munir as a key interlocutor in US-Iran diplomacy, hosting him at the White House and highlighting Pakistan’s role in passing messages and facilitating talks during periods of heightened tensions. However, it ignores fundamental divergences in strategic interests. It rewards a military establishment whose consolidation of power at home is actively destabilizing the very region the United States claims to want stabilized.

A Dubious Mediator

Trump has publicly credited Pakistan with special insight into Iran, noting that Pakistanis “know Iran very well, better than most.” Munir has been positioned as a back-channel messenger and facilitator during periods of US-Iran tension. In reality, however, Munir’s role in the negotiations deserves scrutiny, not applause. It appeared to align with Tehran’s demand that Washington ease pressure before talks could proceed. Munir reportedly told Trump that the US blockade of Iranian ports was a major obstacle to negotiations, reinforcing Iran’s position rather than balancing between both sides.

Pakistan’s mediation appeared to endorse Tehran’s preferred sequence: de-escalation by Washington first, negotiations only afterward. Pakistan may have been useful as a messenger, but usefulness is not the same as strategic alignment. A state that presses Washington to relieve pressure on Iran while presenting itself as an American partner is not acting from shared security priorities. It is managing its own regional equities—border stability with Iran, domestic pro-Iran sentiment, Gulf diplomacy, and its need to remain relevant to multiple camps at once. Trump’s personal comfort with Munir risks mistaking tactical access for strategic convergence. Naturally, Washington has made this mistake before, because the ghosts of US-Pakistan policy apparently enjoy repeat performances.

The “Hard State” Washington Is Normalizing

The problem with Washington’s engagement lies not only in Pakistan’s foreign policy but in the domestic system Field Marshal Asim Munir now represents. The 27th Constitutional Amendment significantly expanded the Army Chief’s authority, creating a new overarching military command, placing the navy and Air Force under his control, and granting him direct oversight of the nuclear arsenal. It also curtailed the Supreme Court’s jurisdiction through a parallel judicial structure.

The 27th Amendment is not an abstract doctrine, as it also manifests in the military’s expanding economic empire. The Fauji Foundation, the army’s flagship conglomerate, controls assets estimated at $5.9–6 billion according to the Wealth Perception Index 2025—making it one of Pakistan’s largest business groups. Its engineering arm, the Frontier Works Organization (FWO), has secured major infrastructure projects, including the Machike–Thallian–Taru Jabba White Oil Pipeline, routed through the military-dominated Special Investment Facilitation Council (SIFC). Marketed as a single-window facilitator, the SIFC bypasses standard public procurement, parliamentary oversight, and regulatory scrutiny—effectively funneling strategic contracts to military-linked entities.

The critical minerals angle is especially revealing. A US company signed a $500 million agreement with Pakistan’s FWO to develop critical minerals and establish a poly-metallic refinery, with initial exports including antimony, copper, gold, tungsten, and rare earth elements. Diversifying US supply chains away from China is a legitimate strategic priority. But doing so through Pakistan’s expanding military-commercial ecosystem risks rewarding the very institution hollowing out civilian oversight, weakening democratic checks, and converting foreign investment into military power. That is not strategic diversification, but dependence dressed up as realism.

Repression at Home, Bombs Abroad

Munir’s Pakistan is not just authoritarian in structure but also coercive in practice. In Pakistan-administered Kashmir, mass protests over governance, elite privileges, and political representation have repeatedly turned deadly. Last month’s clashes in Pakistan-administered Kashmir have left more than 30 people killed as police and paramilitary forces remain deployed against protesters.

Balochistan tells an even darker story. Amnesty International has reported that prominent Baloch activist Mahrag Baloch had been charged in more than two dozen anti-terrorism cases after a prolonged period of unlawful detention. Baloch was sentenced to life imprisonment in June 2026, in a case that is politically motivated and procedurally flawed. And then there is Afghanistan, where Pakistan’s military operations across the border have been reckless and devastating. Human Rights Watch called a March 2026 Pakistani airstrike on a Kabul drug treatment center unlawful and a possible war crime, in which at least 143 people were killed and more than 250 injured, most of them patients. Most recently, following an attack targeting Pakistani paramilitary personnel in Karachi, the Air Force carried out strikes that killed at least 28 civilians and injured 49 along the Afghan border.

Conclusion

This is the regime Trump is courting: one that crushes protest in Kashmir, jails Baloch activists, militarizes the economy, weakens courts, and bombs Afghanistan while marketing itself as a regional peacemaker.

The United States does not need to cut off Pakistan. That would be lazy policy masquerading as moral clarity. Pakistan remains geopolitically relevant because it borders Iran, Afghanistan, India, and China; it has nuclear weapons; and it can be useful in limited diplomatic channels. But Washington must stop confusing utility with trust. Trump’s courtship of Munir risks repeating the oldest mistake in US-Pakistan relations, which is rewarding the Pakistani military for short-term access while ignoring long-term divergence. Pakistan’s regional aspirations do not align cleanly with US priorities. It hedges with Iran, deepens ties with China, antagonizes India, suppresses democratic dissent, and uses its military-commercial complex to convert foreign engagement into domestic power.

Munir may offer Washington a convenient channel, but channels can also become traps. If the United States elevates Munir without demanding accountability, it will not stabilize South Asia or the Middle East. It will legitimize a military regime that has learned to monetize crisis, repression, and geography. That is not strategic realism, but “short-termism” dressed up as diplomacy.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

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Welcome to The Iron Triangle, the Cipher Brief column serving Procurement Officers tasked with buying the future, Investors funding the next generation of defense technology, and the Policy Wonks analyzing its impact on the global order.

A little over a year ago I watched a good company die. They built technology that worked. It was not a slide or a concept, but a thing that did what it was designed to do. They had European clients interested, checkbook open, at exactly the moment Europeans started opening checkbooks for real. They did not close the deal. They could not figure out how to export their product without tripping over the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR), they could not afford the lawyer who could tell them, and they ran out of runway waiting on a U.S. contract that was still three review cycles from signatures. The technology did not fail. The paperwork won.

Around the same time, I sat with a foreign team with excellent tech who wanted to build in the United States. They decided against it. Their reason was not taxes or visas. It was that the moment their intellectual property became American, it might become ITAR-controlled, and they were terrified that a regulation written in Washington would strand the hardware they were shipping to Ukraine to kill Russians. Restated, our export-control regime is so feared that talented people keep their best work out of the American ecosystem. That is not security. That is self-harm.

The $3,000 Toll to Export Nothing

Start with the cost of admission. To legally export a defense article, you first register with the State Department's Directorate of Defense Trade Controls (DDTC). As of January 2025 the base registration fee rose to $3,000 a year, and you pay it whether or not you ever ship a single item. That fee is the insult, not the injury. It’s the trivial part that buys you the right to then apply, per transaction, for a DSP-5 license, a process that consumes months, specialized counsel, and a full-time compliance officer that a nine-person startup does not have and cannot afford to hire.

For Lockheed Martin, this is a rounding error and a competitive moat all at once. The primes have entire floors of export-control lawyers; the regulation that annoys them is the regulation that buries smaller companies. The same $250,000-a-year compliance function is a nuisance on a $61 billion contract base and a death sentence on a Series A. ITAR does not have to be designed as a moat to function as one.

The See-Through Rule and the Birth of "ITAR-Free"

Here is the part that turns a domestic annoyance into a strategic own-goal. ITAR does not stop at the first sale. Every onward move, a re-export to a third country, a retransfer to a different end user, needs its own license. Control follows the item forever. Two features make this uniquely radioactive. The first is the "see-through rule": American law looks straight through a foreign-built system to control the U.S. part buried inside it. The second is that ITAR, unlike Commerce's export rules, has no de minimis threshold; there is no amount of American content small enough to escape. One controlled datalink in a drone taints the entire aircraft, permanently, and Europe cannot freely sell it onward, or keep sending it to Kyiv, without asking for permission.

So Europe did the rational thing. It started designing us out. "ITAR-free" is now a selling point, a feature you advertise the way you'd advertise waterproofing. The control regime we built to protect technology has taught our allies to build parallel supply chains that don't need us at all. We are not catching diversion. We are losing the room, one clean-sheet component at a time.

We Are Guarding a Henhouse the Fox Already Breeds

Now the objection every serious reader is forming: won't loosening the rules help China? It is the right question, and it deserves an honest answer. Post-sales diversion to Beijing is a threat, and the wall against it should stay standing.

But look at what the small companies I'm talking about actually build; let’s be precise about it. The airframe of an attritable FPV drone is commodity hardware, every component sourceable on Alibaba, and China manufactures the world's drones at a scale and price we cannot approach. Nobody in Beijing is combing American startups for quadcopter know-how. What can be genuinely sensitive is the layer you can't buy on Alibaba: the autonomy stack, the radio's waveform library, the ISR payload's processing. Control that. But applying munitions-grade export control to benign parts isn't guarding the crown jewels. It's standing armed guard over a henhouse the fox already owns, breeds, and exports. Control the narrow band that matters; stop strangling everything downstream of it with rules written for an age when a weapons system took a decade to build and stayed secret for two.

The Money Nobody Talks About

Investors should sit with the scale of the mismatch. In 2025, venture capital poured a record $49.1 billion into defense tech, up more than 80 percent over the year before. It sounds like a golden age until you notice most of it stacked into a handful of nine-figure megarounds while the Forgotten Bench, the small firms building the actual arteries of the future force, fought over grants. A typical DoD SBIR Phase I award runs about $256,000; a Phase II might reach a couple of million, if the company survives the wait. Many do not.

Now hold that against one ITAR-specific insult. On an ordinary afternoon, RTX booked $183.7 million for Patriot hardware bound for the United Arab Emirates. The prime exports to the Gulf on a Tuesday while the startup cannot work out how to ship a drone to a NATO ally. That is not a difference in risk. It is a difference in legal firepower. And the Pentagon posts these awards daily, every one above $7.5 million. The primes' budget rounding errors could fund the next generation of warfare. Instead they accrue to the incumbents while the little guys are fenced out of a market currently on fire.

What Each Corner of the Triangle Should Want

For the Procurement Officer, this is about coalition speed. You cannot field an allied force at the pace of a per-transaction license queue. Interoperability that requires a lawyer is not interoperability.

For the Investor, ITAR reform is a total-addressable-market unlock. European defense budgets have gone vertical, and right now your portfolio company is legally walled off from them. The moat you think protects your prime holdings is the same moat drowning your early-stage investments. Your small companies are not competition for the primes; there is plenty of room for both to be successful.

For the Policy Wonk, the pitch is precision. A control regime that treats a drone like an ATACM has no credibility left to spend when it actually needs to stop something dangerous. Overcontrol is how you get evasion; targeted control is how you get compliance.

The Fix Already Exists: We Just Gave It to Two Countries

We do not have to invent anything. In September 2024, the State Department stood up the AUKUS exemption, a license-free environment for defense trade, between pre-approved, vetted users, the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, fenced by an "Excluded Technology List" that keeps the genuinely sensitive items behind the wall. In an early three-month sample, only 18 percent of requests fell on the excluded list; the other 82 percent could move without a license. The mechanism works; State approved it six months ago.

So extend it, carefully, because this is the part the cynics should watch. AUKUS worked because State vouched for allies whose export-control systems were judged comparable to our own. Thirty-two NATO members are not thirty-two equal risks, so the honest version of this is tiered: the most-trusted governments first, each on its own comparability finding. Build a NATO Trusted Trade tier on the same architecture: license-free authorization for vetted allies on the commodity tier, a narrow excluded list. Industry's loudest complaint about AUKUS is that the list is already too broad. Then build a small-business fast lane that waives the registration toll for firms below a revenue threshold. Keep the wall. Widen the gate. Stop making a startup spend its entire budget on compliance lawyers to sell drones to Poland.

I have spent a career watching good technology lose to bad processes. This is the purest example I know. The threat is real, the fix is proven, and the only thing missing is the will to admit that a rulebook written in the era of glacial weapons development is actively kneecapping the fast, cheap, disposable systems that are winning wars right now. Europe wants viable technology. Our young innovators are starving for a customer. ITAR is standing between them, collecting a $3,000 toll, and calling it national security.

I am not naive about post-sale diversion to China. The real leak in a trusted-ally tier is not China raiding our startups; it is a vetted ally re-exporting onward. This is why truly sensitive items stay behind the wall. A trusted-ally tier is only as good as the "trusted" part: the whitelist has to be policed, the excluded list has to be honest, and end-use monitoring has to be real. I will not pretend reform fixes everything. For some European governments "ITAR-free" is industrial policy, a way to protect their own primes and their own jobs. No amount of American good behavior erases that motive. But reform removes the legitimate excuse, and keeps our companies in contention where today they are auto-excluded. The answer to a blunt instrument is a sharper one, not no instrument at all.

We wrote the words "ITAR-free" onto our allies' marketing brochures ourselves, one anachronistic rule at a time. The question is whether we notice in time to erase them, or we keep guarding the henhouse until the last American startup gives up and the last European customer stops asking. Who are we protecting, and from what?

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

Last week, a statement from former White House AI advisor David Sacks stopped Washington cold. "We now have a Chinese open-weight model that is as good as the currently available models from OpenAI and Anthropic," Sacks told a podcast audience, describing Z.ai's GLM-5.2 as comparable to Anthropic's Opus and level with OpenAI's latest offerings. A Chinese startup had, in his telling, matched the two American frontier labs that have spent tens of billions of dollars to stay ahead.

The reaction in policy circles was predictable, viewed by many as a "DeepSeek" type watershed moment (or a “Sputnik” moment for AI). Some warned that American export controls—tightened out of fear that China might steal our most advanced models—were now slowing our own companies down while Beijing caught up on its own.

That debate matters. But it also misses a much larger, more dangerous point. The critical question was never merely whether China could build a competitive frontier model. It was how China would build it: by leveraging an unprecedented industrial espionage infrastructure that has, over the past three decades, executed the most expansive campaign of intellectual property theft in human history.

The Strategy Behind the Steal

We spent two years researching this pattern for our book. The conclusion was uncomfortable and unavoidable: the theft of American intellectual property by the People's Republic of China (PRC) is not a series of isolated incidents. It is a well-resourced national strategy directed from the highest levels of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).

Consider the closest analogy to the current moment. A federal jury in San Francisco convicted former Google engineer Linwei Ding on multiple counts of economic espionage and theft of trade secrets. While drawing a Google paycheck, Ding uploaded more than a thousand confidential documents describing the company's AI supercomputing architecture to a personal account. Simultaneously, Ding was building AI companies in China, pitching Beijing investors on his ability to replicate the proprietary architecture he had taken. It was the first conviction on AI-specific economic espionage charges in American history. It will not be the last.

Ding represents the headline-grabbing version of the threat: a single insider walking out the door with the crown jewels. But focusing exclusively on these dramatic cases obscures a stealthier, more systematic campaign that has done far greater structural damage.

For more than a decade, state-linked actors have vacuumed up the personal data of the American people at an industrial scale:

• The 2015 OPM Breach: Exposed the security clearance files of more than 20 million federal employees—the most sensitive personnel records the government keeps.
• The Anthem Breach: Compromised the health records of nearly 80 million people.
• The Equifax Breach: Handed over the financial histories of some 145 million Americans.

None of these breaches were random. Aggregate these datasets and you map the human terrain of any target organization. Who holds a clearance? Who is in debt? Who is vulnerable? This is the raw material of counterintelligence—the blueprint an adversary uses to identify, pressure, or monitor individuals inside a critical company or government agency. The Ding case and the mass data breaches are not separate stories; they are the same narrative operating at different scales, both optimized to accelerate the PRC's ascent as an AI superpower.

The Threat of 'Digital Exhaust'

Now comes the newest chapter. Alongside human espionage and big-data harvesting, Chinese labs have increasingly utilized "distillation"—the practice of systematically querying leading American models via proxy accounts to extract their behaviors, subsequently training cheaper domestic competitors on the output. It is intellectual property theft automated via software.

The result is the arrival of models like GLM-5.2, which are functional and cheap enough that Western enterprises are already debating whether to integrate them. When European companies begin exploring the use of these models in enterprise settings, it should deeply worry anyone who understands where this technology originates and what running it inside a secure network invites.

This is the vulnerability the current AI-race debate routinely skips: You do not need to steal a frontier model to win the geopolitical competition. You need the data that surrounds it.

The richest source of that data is rarely a heavily guarded research lab. Instead, it is the everyday communication of American companies, defense contractors, and technology startups working in sensitive dual-use fields like quantum computing or autonomous systems. It is the steady stream of messages, proprietary files, meeting notes, and project plans moving every hour across consumer chat apps and fragmented collaboration tools that were never engineered to withstand a nation-state adversary.

We call this "digital exhaust." It is the operational residue of how an organization actually functions, and it is enormously revealing:

• A messaging thread reveals internal hierarchies and decision-makers.
• A shared drive exposes which critical program is behind schedule and which supplier holds the bottleneck component.
• A calendar maps exactly when and where executive leadership is traveling.

None of this information is classified, yet all of it is highly actionable. An adversary does not need to break advanced encryption if they can seamlessly map an organization from the outside, identify its weak points, and exploit them. This is precisely the operational targeting that mass data theft enables, and precisely the exposure that a fragmented, consumer-grade communications stack guarantees.

Securing the New Front Line

The frontier of great-power competition has fundamentally shifted, dissolving the old division of labor between public defense and private enterprise. The front line no longer runs exclusively through government agencies; it runs through global logistics firms, the energy grid, defense-tech startups, and commercial AI labs.

Private companies and critical infrastructure operators are now the first points of contact with nation-state adversaries. Yet, they are expected to coordinate with law enforcement and government partners in real time using an improvised patchwork of commercial applications—each representing a separate vendor, a distinct cloud, and an isolated point of failure.

The federal government solved this vulnerability for its own operations long ago by building sovereign, compartmented, end-to-end secure networks like the Joint Worldwide Intelligence Communications System (JWICS)—environments designed from the ground up on the absolute assumption that a nation-state is actively trying to get in. The private sector, now standing on that same front line, possesses no equivalent infrastructure.

Closing this gap is a matter of immediate national security. The current moment demands a unified coordination layer built to the rigid security standards the government holds itself to, but optimized for the commercial operators and law enforcement agencies that protect our critical infrastructure.

Achieving this requires a fundamental shift in how we approach enterprise security:

• Consolidated Environments: Moving communications and collaboration onto a single, hardened platform rather than a fragmented scattering of consumer tools.
• Sovereign Data Control: Ensuring an organization’s operational data and "digital exhaust" never reside in vulnerable, third-party commercial clouds beyond their direct control
• Verified Identity Architecture: Implementing strict identity verification to prevent adversaries from covertly infiltrating internal organizational communications.
• Cross-Institutional Security: Enabling secure, real-time collaboration across institutional seams—from a private tech firm to a police department to a military command—without downgrading to unencrypted group chats.

This shift toward sovereign, secure enterprise infrastructure—the exact architectural paradigm we are focused on building at Coalition Systems—is the only way to deny an adversary the digital exhaust they have learned to harvest so effectively. It brings the core principles of sovereign government networks to the commercial frontline.

The defining lesson of the last decade is that the PRC treats the systematic theft of American ingenuity as a core instrument of national power. The rapid closing of the AI capability gap is a stark reminder of how far that strategy has carried them. The correct response cannot just be guarding the frontier models inside the labs. We must secure the operational ground where the day-to-day competition is actually being fought: the everyday communications of the American enterprise. We have left that ground undefended for too long. We cannot afford to do so any longer.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

Pending the failed cease-fire and Memorandum of Understanding [MOU] between Iran and America, all eyes have focused on the ongoing, difficult negotiations – mediated by Pakistan, Oman, Turkey, Qatar, and Egypt – between America and Iran. The late Uri Lubrani, Israel’s last Ambassador to Iran in 1978, always warned about the perils of negotiating with the Iranians (“a nation of carpet weavers and of chess players”), whom he respected for their negotiating prowess, calling their manipulation of negotiations “a masterpiece of hoodwinking the world.” Other contemporary experts (former American intelligence officers) such as Mark Fowler, Norm Roule, and Hamlet Yousef have made similar observations. Their collective wisdom is worth noting as the United States continues its diplomatic negotiations with Iran in today’s modern version of ‘The Great Game.’ What is increasingly pertinent in such negotiations pertains to the role of third-party nations such as Oman, Turkey, Qatar, and Pakistan, not as mere mediators, but rather, especially in the case of Pakistan and Turkey, as modern purveyors of ‘intelligence diplomacy.’

Turkey’s road to intelligence diplomacy occurred strategically, rather than organically, as its Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan (previously Director of its intelligence agency MIT, for over a decade) and current MIT Director Ibrahim Kalin purposefully and intentionally positioned Turkey to play an increasingly important role in regional conflicts, covert diplomacy, and intelligence – as in Kalin’s words in a recent speech - “drawing important lessons for our country’s security, strategic positioning, and regional perspective.” This doctrine had previously involved backchannel negotiations in Gaza, Ukraine, Europe, the Balkans, Russia, (cf. the 2024 spy swap), and now, Iran. Other examples include the appointment of former senior MIT officer Gürsel Donmez as Turkey’s Ambassador to Austria, a key worldwide intelligence and diplomacy hub, and Turkey’s successful hosting of the NATO summit last week.

Pakistan is, like Turkey, hardly new to the Great Game. Readers will recall its role in facilitating – during 1971-1972 – the historic Kissinger-Nixon opening to China. But this year’s MOU between Iran and America has thrust Pakistan (and its leaders Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and military chief General Asim Munir) into the limelight. Pakistan has handled sensitive backchannel negotiations, hosted talks in Islamabad, and worked closely with its Saudi and GCC partners as the recent MOU came into play. But in its world of zero-sum diplomacy, Pakistan’s strategic successes in intelligence diplomacy heighten its regional and broader posture – especially vis-à-vis America and serves to weaken India’s strategic position and diplomatic influence. In today’s world, as always, Pakistan’s gain is India’s loss and China’s gain (in my opinion, China is the REAL winner of the US-Iran war).

How does one negotiate, or facilitate negotiations with a country which is a combination of a civilization (Persia), theocracy, nation state (Iran), terrorist organization, and criminal entity (IRGC)? Iran has revealed itself to be a formidable negotiating partner, more akin to a sophisticated hostage taker, in which traditional western, Harvard metrics of ‘Getting to Yes,’ or “Getting Past No’ hardly apply. And yet, like hostage takers in [law enforcement] hostage scenarios, Iran must be appreciated as a ‘rational’ actor. The Iranians have brilliantly used ambiguity and opacity as negotiating strategies, and they have adeptly utilized social media to carve out confusing, ambiguous negotiating positions, in addition to asymmetric warfare, closure of the Straits of Hormuz, disinformation, propaganda, cognitive warfare, and traditional diplomatic efforts. One could surmise that the Iranians are truly gifted students, who have read - and survived! - President Trump’s The Art of the Deal. And for President Trump and his national security team, negotiating with a dead, or severely injured, possibly brain-damaged Supreme Leader Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei may be the most complex task of all. Such scenarios aren’t taught in diplomatic faculties, business schools, or at the FBI Academy.

Negotiations involving criminal terror groups such as the IRGC (now led by General Ahmad Vahidi) - who have committed numerous worldwide acts of violence and terror over decades - often require third party emissaries (as legitimate governments cannot be seen as a main negotiating partner) and high-level intermediaries in ‘track 3’ diplomacy. Over the past two decades, examples include the former German intelligence officer Dr. Gerhard Conrad’s hostage negotiations involving Hamas and Hezbollah, Swiss American attorney Daniel Levin’s work in the Middle East with The Liechtenstein Foundation for State Governance, and Swiss diplomat Pascal Holiger’s negotiations involving the victims of Boko Haram in Nigeria. The role of empathy, culture, trust, language, and nuance remains critically valuable in such delicate endeavors. And today, trust remains the coin of the realm as 3rd-party nations such as Pakistan and Turkey, as well as others, facilitate ongoing diplomatic negotiations with Iran’s IRGC leadership.

The Iran negotiations will involve more time, which remains Iran’s best weapon, as it can continue to cause economic pain for the West, especially America, as it approaches the November 2026 midterm elections. During its devastating war with Iraq during the 1980s – with over 1 million Iranian casualties – Iran fought for 8 years before the late Ayatollah Khomeini made a peace deal, “drinking from the poisoned chalice.” And a battered, weakened Iran continues to be patient and resolved. And so, a key question now involves President Trump, and what actions – diplomatic or military – he might take next, and whether he too, will be forced to “drink from the poisoned chalice.” The stakes could not be higher. And practitioners of intelligence diplomacy, such as Pakistan, Turkey, and other actors, will continue to be linchpins of any diplomatic successes. But unlike past similar negotiations, which involved discretion and secrecy, today’s intelligence diplomacy takes place in the glare of the media and its heir apparent, social media --- a curse and a blessing for its practitioners. What hasn’t changed is that words and actions – especially those of President Trump and the Iranian leadership - still matter, more than ever.

Dr. Kenneth Dekleva served as a Regional Medical Officer/Psychiatrist with the U.S. Dept. of State from 2002-2016 and is currently CEO of Blackwood Advisory Solutions LLC, and Professor of Psychiatry, UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, TX. The views expressed by Dr. Dekleva are entirely his own and do not represent the views of the U.S. Government, the U.S. Dept. of State, or UT Southwestern Medical Center.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief

KREMLIN FILES/COLUMN: Three years ago, in June 2023, the Kremlin confronted one of the most dramatic internal crises of Vladimir Putin's quarter-century in power. Yevgeny Prigozhin, the former convict turned oligarch, Wagner founder, and longtime Kremlin insider known as Putin's "chef," launched an armed mutiny that stunned Russia and captivated the world. Wagner fighters seized the headquarters of Russia's Southern Military District in Rostov before beginning an astonishing march toward Moscow, encountering remarkably little organized resistance along the way.

For nearly twenty-four hours, the aura of Kremlin control appeared to evaporate. The episode immediately fueled predictions that Putin's regime was beginning to unravel. Some declared the mutiny the beginning of the end. Others saw it as the first crack that would inevitably bring down the Russian dictator. Three years later, those predictions have not aged well. But similar predictions now are all over U.S. and European news sources about another imminent collapse. The anniversary, therefore, offers an opportunity not to revisit sensational headlines but to remember three enduring lessons—especially at a time when rumor, hopeful thinking, and unfounded speculation once again dominate discussion over Russia and the Ukraine war.

Rumor and Reality

Prigozhin survived a negotiated settlement and the initial aftermath of his short-lived rebellion only to have his plane fall out of the sky months later. Wagner was dismantled and its elements incorporated into the Russian armed forces and intelligence agencies. Putin remains firmly in power, and the past three years have only seen a strengthening of his security and intelligence services.

Russia continues its war against Ukraine. And there are more rumors in recent months, from experts around the world, claiming Putin is “more vulnerable than ever.” This assumption is mostly grounded in Ukraine’s tremendous progress in escalating the drone war, its long-range strikes making a real impact on Russia’s energy sector, and heavy Russian casualties at the front continuing to mount throughout the year. There has also been more public criticism among Russia’s ruling elite than at any time during the war. But speculating from those facts that Putin is now substantially weaker as a dictator, or even, as some have suggested, “ripe for a coup,” is mostly wishful thinking.

Such rumors from alleged intelligence agency leaks, and experts cited by media outlets, offer a tempting, albeit false, notion that the Ukraine war might come to an end without the West having to do more; that Putin will just be overthrown and a more democratic alternative might come to power. Or that resolve and strong support for our Ukrainian allies, who are still fighting and dying every day, are not really needed, and that the “war is surely coming to an end…” That was the response given this week when Germany was pressed on providing long-range weapons:
“well, Ukraine is doing better than ever!” But none of that is based on reality, and Ukraine needs NATO and the U.S.’s support to see this war through to a just settlement, one where Ukraine does not sacrifice long-term security for peace.

Looking back at the war and to Prigozhin’s mutiny, the first lesson to remember is that the Prigozhin’s move exposed important vulnerabilities within the Russian state, ones that have existed for decades. Wagner's convoy advanced hundreds of miles while much of the security apparatus appeared confused, hesitant, or absent altogether. The episode reinforced what many who study Russia have argued for years: corruption, patronage, bureaucratic dysfunction, and institutional rivalries remain defining characteristics of Putin's system. Loyalty often trumps competence, and political reliability frequently matters more than military effectiveness.

Those weaknesses are real. They were discounted by far too many Western military experts before the 2022 invasion, who predicted a quick Russian victory. I have documented numerous examples of such failures across the Russian intelligence, military, and security establishment in my own book: Tradecraft, Tactics, and Dirty Tricks: Russian Intelligence and Putin’s Secret War (Naval Institute Press 2026).

Yet acknowledging these shortcomings should never lead us to underestimating the adversary. The war has damaged the Russian economy, and the energy sector is in crisis due to Ukraine’s strike campaign. Still, as The Economist recently noted, the economy is not in shambles, unfortunately, and won’t crash anytime soon.

Russia’s intelligence services (RIS) remain capable, adaptive, and ruthless. They have repeatedly demonstrated an ability to recover from mistakes, suppress internal threats, and preserve the regime. They get the very best in terms of resources and reconstitution from any losses, and they are expanding their hybrid war against Europe and the U.S.

Weakness and Resilience in Putin’s Russia at War

Weakness and resilience are not mutually exclusive. Prigozhin’s mutiny revealed both. This is the second lesson from three years ago. War has strengthened the RIS and, especially, the FSB’s chokehold on the Russian people. Their economy has largely weathered sanctions and repeated hits, and their population, unfortunately, remains hypnotized by heavy propaganda. Sadly, most Russians support Putin as strongly as the Nazi Germans did Hitler, even to their bitter end. Unfortunately, Russian propaganda today has many more tools than Dr. Goebbels did, and they use them very well.

Prigozhin knew it. He was not marching on Moscow to overthrow Vladimir Putin. This has been widely misunderstood. Throughout the crisis, Prigozhin directed his fury overwhelmingly at Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov. His extraordinary public denunciations in the weeks prior to the mutiny, shouting at both on Russian TV, stunned all of Russia but received little attention in the West. Prigozhin accused the military leadership of corruption, deception, and catastrophic mismanagement of the war in Ukraine. His objective was to humiliate them, force their removal, and compel Putin to intervene—not to replace Putin himself. He was screaming into Russian cameras, “Shoigu! Gerasimov!!” But not once did he shout Putin’s name. He knew where to stop with his ire.

Western observers too often interpreted the mutiny through their own hopes for regime change. It was an elite struggle within the existing system, not a revolutionary movement against it. Understanding that distinction is essential. Elite infighting should not automatically be mistaken for the imminent collapse of the regime.

Putin is a master, just like Stalin was 80 years ago, at playing his lieutenants and loyalist Siloviki against one another. While they jostle for power, he remains firmly in control, and they are constantly trying to curry his favor. Prigozhin sat at his table—and prepared that table—for decades. He knew it.

The third lesson is perhaps the most consequential. Putin's system was never designed to depend solely on the regular armed forces. It rests on multiple overlapping centers of coercive power, principally at the hands of the intelligence services. The Federal Security Service (FSB) remains the dominant institution protecting the regime. Alongside it stands the National Guard (Rosgvardia), with its vast manpower and domestic security mission, and the Federal Protective Service (FSO), whose responsibilities include safeguarding the country's leadership (first and foremost in the personage of Putin). These organizations were deliberately structured to counterbalance one another, prevent any single institution from becoming too powerful, and ensure that threats to the regime can be contained from multiple directions. Putin is a master at it.

The Wagner mutiny did not invalidate that architecture. If anything, the aftermath demonstrated its durability. While the regular military was embarrassed, the broader security state remained intact. Rosgvardia was strengthened immediately after the mutiny, receiving more heavy equipment, tanks, and APCs designed to put down even the most serious uprising by disloyal units, should they ever get past the wary watch of the FSB. It is headed by General Viktor Zolotov, a loyal former KGB colleague of Putin’s. That layered system and those allegiances help explain why authoritarian regimes like Putin’s can absorb dramatic shocks without collapsing (Iran provides parallels, and no doubt Russia and Iran continue to learn from one another).

None of this means Putin's regime is invulnerable. History offers countless reminders that authoritarian systems often appear stable until they suddenly are not. Internal rivalries matter. Economic pressure matters. Military setbacks matter.

But careful analysis requires distinguishing between long-term structural vulnerabilities and near-term political collapse. Those are not the same thing. Russia under Putin has shown a remarkable ability to overcome its structural and corrupt vulnerabilities to launch out repeatedly with aggression.

Three years after the Wagner mutiny, the greatest analytical mistake would be the same one made in June 2023: allowing hope to substitute for honest assessment. We cannot simply hold our breath, wait for the next rumor of elite discord, and convince ourselves that the dictator—and the security state he has painstakingly constructed over twenty-six years—will collapse under its own weight.

It will not be that easy. If Russia's aggression is ultimately to be defeated, it will require sustained Western resolve, continued support for Ukraine, and a clear-eyed understanding of both the strengths and the weaknesses of the adversary we face. Strategy demands as much patience as the current optimism calls for. But our strategy also demands more resolve, as well as something else missing in 2022—and for much of Putin’s reign—a more credible deterrent from the West.

All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the US Government. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying US Government authentication of information or endorsement of the author's views.

With tensions rising all week, the U.S. has launched a new round of strikes against Iranian military targets and maritime assets. The strikes follow an announcement made by President Donald Trump just hours earlier, declaring the ceasefire agreement with Tehran as ‘over’. The fresh wave of strikes signals a U.S. shift back to a strategy of military pressure and economic coercion. The Cipher Brief reached out to Former National Intelligence Manager for Iran at ODNI Norm Roule for context.

"For now, the U.S.-Iran diplomatic track remains alive, but its ability to produce meaningful near-term progress is uncertain, and its long-term survival and utility are increasingly at risk. U.S. strikes in Iran over the past two days will degrade important elements of Tehran’s capabilities in the short term and may buy space for Pakistani and Qatari mediators to reduce tensions and bring about at least a temporary halt in the attacks. However, even if the latest U.S. retaliation deters Iranian attacks in the near term, Tehran is unlikely to abandon its claim of administrative control over the Strait of Hormuz or halt retaliatory attacks against Gulf states that host U.S. bases. Iran’s actions support its long-standing intention to be viewed as a regional hegemon with veto rights over Gulf security, using asymmetric weapons to offset U.S. and Gulf conventional advantages.

Specifically, Tehran is highly likely to continue periodic harassment of shipping to undermine confidence in the security of the Omani transit route. However, Iran is unlikely to try to close the Strait outright unless the United States reinstitutes a blockade against Iran. An effort by Tehran to close the Strait would alienate its customers, unify much of the world against it, and risk a wider war with the United States that the Iranian regime might survive but cannot win. Iran almost certainly believes that it does not need to close the Strait to weaponize it. It only needs to make passage so uncertain enough that insurers, shippers, energy firms, and Gulf governments begin pricing Iranian permission into the movement of commerce and eventually decide they have no choice but to accept a construct that gives Iran permanent influence over passage and Tehran the right to charge fees to those who use it.

The United States is determined to show Iran that these actions carry material costs and that Tehran will not be allowed to control an international waterway. The latest U.S. strikes against Iran, following Tehran’s missile and drone attacks against commercial shipping and Gulf targets, were significant and went well beyond the more limited retaliation that followed earlier Iranian provocations. U.S. forces struck more than 80 Iranian targets on July 7 and approximately 90 additional targets on July 8, including Iranian air defense, command-and-control, coastal surveillance, anti-ship missile, drone, naval, and logistics assets, as well as more than 60 IRGC small boats. Press reports claim U.S. strikes or explosions at key sites near Bandar Abbas, Chabahar, Qeshm, Sirik, Bushehr, and Kharg Island, Iran’s principal oil export terminal. President Trump has threatened further escalation, including attacks against Iranian infrastructure and Kharg Island, if Iranian attacks continue.

This was a significant attack package, but one that still avoided leadership targets and most major civilian infrastructure. The strikes show that the United States will defend its regional partners and the international status of the Strait of Hormuz, and that it has a good understanding of the military system and infrastructure it needs to target to degrade Iran’s attack capabilities in the near term.

Although it remains unclear whether Tehran will de-escalate to avoid further damage, doing so would be consistent with its past behavior and would fit its long-term strategy of episodic attacks that unsettle shipping and test, but do not cross, the line that would ignite a large-scale conflict with the United States. The nature of Iran’s attacks to date, however, shows that Tehran is willing to assume a greater risk of renewed large-scale conflict with the United States if that is the price of forcing others to treat Hormuz as a waterway subject to Iranian permission. The tenor of Iranian rhetoric toward the United States has also sharpened after the former Supreme Leader’s funeral, including public revenge threats against the President. Defiance rather than cooperation is likely to define Iran’s near-term approach.

The Gulf states seek to avoid escalation, but they continue to firmly reject Iran’s claim of control over the region’s central maritime artery. Bahrain, Kuwait, and reportedly even Qatar have now all been drawn directly into the latest Iranian response. This response shows that Tehran is not only threatening commercial shipping and Gulf energy exports, but also targeting Gulf states with the sensing, communications, and command architecture it believes supports U.S. deterrence in the region. These attacks also message that U.S. basing will not protect Gulf states from Iranian attack.

The Gulf states’ immediate focus has been to remove ambiguity regarding safe passage and Iran’s persistent threats by using Qatari, Omani, and Pakistani diplomatic channels, as well as by exploring alternative transit, pipeline, and international maritime arrangements to reduce Iran’s leverage over Hormuz. Iran’s strategy depends on undermining the perception that Omani waters offer protection from Iranian attacks. Tehran’s rejection of reported UAE-backed efforts to develop an International Maritime Organization role in managing the Strait underscores that Iran is fighting not just over shipping lanes, but over who has the authority to define safe passage. Qatar’s role in this regional dynamic is complicated: it is both a valued diplomatic channel and the region’s dominant LNG exporter. At the same time, the reported attacks on Qatari-linked vessels and Iranian pressure on Gulf basing infrastructure show that mediation won’t insulate Doha from Iranian missile and drone strikes.

Energy markets face increased pressure that is likely to vary in intensity over time. Gulf exports had been recovering since mid-June, but the security architecture underpinning that recovery is now visibly eroding. Treasury’s revocation of the oil license granted to Iran after the June deal strips Tehran of the principal early economic concession it gained from the reopening arrangement. Brent and WTI both rose sharply on the news, reflecting not only fear of lost barrels but fear that Hormuz is again becoming a contested operating environment. Nonetheless, the market is responding in a way that shows it sees this week’s flare-up as contained, and that robust production from Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and other producers, reduced Chinese imports from Iran, and the demonstrated resilience of energy markets will prevent a major price shock. In short, existing supply and demand conditions reinforce the prevailing belief that the regional strikes will not evolve into a broader conflict. Should this view be significantly challenged, however, oil prices could quickly move into the $80s or $90s. Longer-term, there is still a disconnect between current market sentiment, the heavy drawdown on global strategic reserves, and the fact that Gulf reliability has been damaged. Even if the Strait remains open, buyers, insurers, and refiners will now treat Gulf supply as politically contingent in a way they did not before the war."

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

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In recent days, an unusual consensus has begun to emerge among some of Bolivia's most prominent public intellectuals, economists, diplomats, and former political leaders.

Former Foreign Minister Jaime Aparicio has warned that Bolivia has moved from "the theater of the absurd" to "the dialogue of the absurd," suggesting that the country may require international support to preserve democratic governance. Economist Jaime Dunn has repeatedly argued that Bolivia's central challenge is no longer merely economic, electoral, or ideological, but institutional. Former President Jorge "Tuto" Quiroga has warned of the corrosive effects of impunity and criminality on democratic government. Former La Paz mayor and economist Ronald MacLean Abaroa has likewise argued that Bolivia confronts a deeper crisis of governance than many observers recognize. Political commentator Vidal Dorado has advanced similar concerns.

These figures differ in generation, political affiliation, and professional experience. Yet they increasingly converge around a common diagnosis: Bolivia's greatest challenge may no longer be who governs the country, but whether the state itself retains the capacity to govern effectively.

That distinction matters.

Most international coverage of Bolivia's current turmoil continues to frame events as a political confrontation between former President Evo Morales and President Rodrigo Paz. The headlines focus on road blockades, food and fuel shortages, arrests, negotiations, and the possibility of emergency measures. Morales's supporters argue that he is being excluded from political life. His opponents contend that he is attempting to destabilize the government in order to preserve his political relevance and avoid accountability. Both interpretations contain elements of truth. Neither fully captures the significance of what is taking place.

As a Bolivian attorney and former Interim Mission Director of USAID/Bolivia, I have observed the country navigate moments of extraordinary turbulence. Bolivia has survived military governments, hyperinflation, constitutional crises, regional tensions, and repeated confrontations between state institutions and social movements. Yet what is unfolding today feels different. Increasingly, the central question is not who governs Bolivia. It is whether the Bolivian state can govern effectively.

The current crisis illustrates the point. Weeks of blockades have disrupted commerce, restricted the movement of food and fuel, and imposed substantial costs on ordinary citizens. Reports indicate that patients have died after being unable to obtain timely medical treatment because transportation routes remained blocked. The government has debated emergency authorities while attempting to avoid a wider confrontation. Yet even amid escalating tensions, important developments have occurred. The Central Obrera Boliviana has entered into dialogue with the government and established joint commissions to address detainees and other demands. At the same time, divisions have emerged within sectors of the protest movement itself, including organizations associated with the Tupac Katari movement.

These developments suggest that the crisis is no longer a simple confrontation between government and opposition. Bolivia increasingly resembles a contest among multiple actors, grievances, and centers of influence, none of which appears capable of imposing a definitive outcome on its own. The result is a growing debate not merely about political leadership, but about governability itself.

At the same time, public discussion has increasingly touched issues that until recently remained largely confined to security specialists and anti-corruption practitioners: narcotics trafficking, illegal mining, contraband, land trafficking, environmental crime, and the financing of political mobilization.

Whether any particular allegation ultimately proves true remains a matter for evidence, investigation, and due process. Yet the broader trend is difficult to ignore. Over time, illicit and informal economies can accumulate sufficient financial and political influence to shape governance itself. They provide livelihoods where the formal economy cannot. They generate patronage networks. They cultivate local loyalties. They penetrate institutions. Eventually, they cease functioning merely as criminal enterprises operating outside the state. They become alternative systems of power operating alongside it.

More than half a century ago, René Zavaleta Mercado, Bolivia's most influential twentieth-century political thinker, described his country as a sociedad abigarrada—a society composed of multiple social, economic, and political realities existing simultaneously within the same national territory. Zavaleta was attempting to explain Bolivia's complexity. His insight remains relevant today. Yet the challenge confronting Bolivia may now extend beyond the coexistence of multiple realities. Increasingly, some of the most powerful actors operating within those realities are neither political parties nor state institutions, but illicit economic networks whose resources and influence rival those of the state itself.

This is not solely a Bolivian phenomenon.

For much of the democratic era that followed Latin America's military governments, political debate revolved around elections, constitutions, economic models, and the alternation of power. The underlying assumption was that the state remained the principal arena through which political conflict would be resolved. Across much of the hemisphere, that assumption is being tested.

In Mexico, cartels have challenged state authority across entire regions. Ecuador's recent security crisis demonstrated how rapidly organized crime can reshape national politics. Colombia continues to confront criminal and armed groups whose influence extends well beyond traditional law-enforcement concerns. Guatemala has repeatedly struggled with corruption networks capable of penetrating public institutions. Venezuela presents perhaps the hemisphere's most advanced example of governing structures intertwined with illicit economic activity. Nicaragua's authoritarian consolidation likewise demonstrates how patronage, coercion, and opaque economic relationships can undermine democratic accountability.

Elsewhere, similar concerns are emerging. Brazil faces the growing influence of criminal organizations and illegal mining operations in the Amazon. Panama remains vulnerable to transnational money laundering and criminal finance. Jamaica and Trinidad continue to grapple with the political consequences of organized crime and gang violence. Guyana's remarkable economic expansion creates extraordinary opportunities but also governance risks familiar to many resource-rich states. Even Argentina's recent political debate, reflected in part through the rise of Javier Milei, has centered on public frustration with entrenched patronage systems, institutional weakness, and a perception that the state increasingly serves privileged networks rather than citizens. In Chile, support for figures such as José Antonio Kast similarly reflects anxieties about crime, state capacity, and the ability of institutions to maintain public order.

These countries are not identical. Their histories differ. Their institutions differ. Their democratic trajectories differ. Yet they increasingly confront a common challenge: preserving the capacity of legitimate institutions to exercise authority in the face of alternative networks of economic and political power.

The concern is not merely theoretical. It increasingly shapes political discourse throughout the hemisphere. What Jaime Dunn articulates in Bolivia is not entirely different from concerns expressed by reformers in Ecuador, opposition figures in Venezuela, portions of Peru's political class, or advocates of institutional reform elsewhere in the region. The ideological differences among these groups are substantial. What unites them is a growing belief that democratic governments are losing ground—not simply to political opponents, but to systems of power that operate beyond the effective reach of traditional institutions.

At this point, the observations of Jorge Basadre, Peru's great historian of the republic, become especially relevant. Basadre famously described Peru as both a problem and a possibility. The same might be said of democratic governance across much of Latin America today. The challenge facing many countries is not simply electing the right leaders or adopting the right policies. It is preserving institutions capable of channeling conflict through politics rather than allowing power to migrate toward criminal organizations, illicit markets, or networks that thrive on disorder and impunity.

Many of the hemisphere's most experienced diplomats and policymakers, including former U.S. Under Secretary of State Tom Shannon, have long argued that Latin America's enduring challenges are ultimately institutional rather than ideological. Bolivia's current crisis reinforces that point. The debate is no longer primarily about the distribution of power among competing political actors. It is increasingly about the capacity of democratic institutions to exercise authority, enforce rules, and maintain legitimacy.

This challenge also exposes a growing gap in the inter-American system. The Inter-American Democratic Charter was designed to defend constitutional democracy against coups, authoritarian ruptures, and attacks on democratic order. The Inter-American Convention Against Corruption sought to strengthen integrity and accountability throughout the hemisphere. Both remain important achievements. Yet neither was drafted with today's challenge fully in mind. Increasingly, democracy is threatened not only by tanks in the streets or presidents who refuse to leave office. It is threatened by criminal networks, illicit economies, and corruption structures that do not seek to replace democratic institutions outright, but gradually hollow them out from within.

Two centuries ago, Simón Bolívar warned of the fragility of republican institutions in the newly independent Americas. More recently, Basadre reminded us that the republic remains both a problem and a possibility. Bolivia's current crisis suggests that those concerns remain remarkably relevant. Jaime Dunn and others have argued that the country's deepest challenge is institutional. The evidence increasingly suggests they may be right.

The fundamental question facing Bolivia today is not whether Evo Morales or Rodrigo Paz prevails in the next round of political struggle. It is whether democratic institutions can continue to exercise legitimate authority in the face of increasingly powerful alternative networks of economic and political power. That question extends far beyond Bolivia. Increasingly, it is becoming one of the defining questions of democratic governance throughout the Americas.

The Cipher Brief is committed to publishing a range of perspectives on national security issues submitted by deeply experienced national security professionals. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not represent the views or opinions of The Cipher Brief.

Have a perspective to share based on your experience in the national security field? Send it to Editor@thecipherbrief.com for publication consideration.

Read more expert-driven national security insights, perspective and analysis in The Cipher Brief