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Europe

“With the Shield, or On It?”: Aspides and the EU’s Aspirations for Sea Control

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By Giacomo Leccese 

On 23 February 2026, the Council of the EU decided to extend the mandate of the EU naval operation EUNAVFOR Aspides, launched in March 2024 to safeguard the sea lines of communication (SLOC) in the Red Sea and protect European commercial vessels from Houthi attacks. Aspides has marked the most demanding naval engagement of the Union to date, moving beyond the low-intensity context that has traditionally characterized EU maritime operations. The choice to operate separately from the U.S.-led Prosperity Guardian coalition also signaled a deliberate effort to assert European strategic autonomy, with distinct assets, rules of engagement, and political objectives. The renewal of the operation, after two years of sustained deployment, therefore provides a valuable opportunity to assess the performance of the mission and to measure it against the stated ambition of the EU to act as a “global maritime security provider.” Regardless of how the situation in the Red Sea and the Houthi threat will evolve in the near future, an analysis of the mission provides the opportunity to examine some general gaps in the organization and efficiency of EU naval operations, as well as some limitations in the combat capabilities of NATO navies to address high-intensity threats at sea and counter potential sea denial actions in strategic chokepoints around the globe.

The name of the mission, Aspides, comes from the Greek word for “shield” (ἀσπίς). In ancient Spartan tradition, a warrior would return from battle either carrying his shield or borne upon it. After two years at sea, will the EU return with its shield in hand, or be carried back upon it? The evidence suggests the latter. Despite some operational and tactical achievements, the mission has struggled to meet its objectives, constrained by limited naval capabilities and a mandate that remained narrow and largely reactive to Houthi actions.

Measuring Success against the Mission Mandate

To evaluate the effectiveness of Aspides, it is necessary to measure its outcomes against its mandate. The mission’s objectives were to restore and safeguard freedom of navigation, escort and protect vessels, and enhance maritime situational awareness in the Red Sea. From this perspective, Aspides achieved notable operational and tactical results, yet did not fully accomplish its stated goals, especially those related to the restoration of freedom of navigation and the protection of ships.  During the operation, shipping agencies continued to avoid the Suez route, as concerns persisted regarding the safety of merchant vessels. Despite an additional 3,000 nautical miles and approximately ten days of sailing on the Asia-Western Europe route, the shipping industry continued to choose the Cape of Good Hope route, circumnavigating Africa. Even with a modest increase in traffic following the halt in Houthi attacks, the number of ships transiting the Red Sea remained well below the pre-crisis average of 72–75 per day recorded before the onset of Houthi sea denial operations in November 2023. To resume normal traffic in the Red Sea, shipping needs to have “safe enough” conditions, which means more protection. Aspides did not achieve this threshold.

Figure 1: Traffic trends in the Red Sea Route between November 2023 and November 2025. (Source: Hellenic Shipping News)

Concerning the protection of vessels, Aspides provided support to over 1,200 ships, demonstrating the ability of the European warships employed to intercept the various air threats posed by the Houthis.  Despite this, the inability of the mission to meet the commercial timelines of the shipping industry prompted some vessels to risk transiting the Red Sea without waiting for escort availability. This led several European vessels to be targeted by Houthi attacks, in some cases suffering severe damage or loss.  In this sense, also the objective of escorting and protecting vessels cannot be considered fully achieved, as the escort model failed to meet acceptable standards for responding to the needs of the shipping industry.

Insufficient Assets, Insufficient Protection

A key factor explaining the inability of Aspides to guarantee the required level of protection concerns the scarcity of naval assets at its disposal. Throughout its deployment, the mission maintained an average presence of only three warships, far below the estimated operational need of at least ten naval units supported by air assets. Such a limited presence inevitably constrained the mission’s capacity to ensure regular and comprehensive coverage along a maritime corridor extending for more than 1,200 nautical miles. Under these conditions, Aspides was able to organize only a maximum of four escorted transits each day (typically two northbound and two southbound) in spite of a minimum of eight to ten daily convoy movements indicated by shipping companies to be necessary to restore pre-crisis traffic levels. The mission is based on an escort-on-demand model, in which close protection is provided to vessels upon request and naval units are assigned when available. In this model, the limited number of available warships inevitably creates long waiting times and queues for maritime traders before receiving an escort.  In a commercial context where voyage decisions are made weekly, such delays have led many companies to reroute their merchant ships to the Cape Route or to attempt the dangerous passage through the Red Sea without protection. This explains both the failure to resume normal trade flows towards Suez and the attacks suffered by some unprotected European vessels, such as the Greek-operated Eternity C and Magic Seas, as well as the Dutch freighter Minervagracht.

The limited number of available naval assets reveals some significant gaps in European naval power. After the end of the Cold War and during periods of severe fiscal austerity, European navies underwent a significant downsizing. The decline in defense spending and the allocation of resources to the detriment of navies, given the importance of counterinsurgency operations in the early 2000s, reduced the number of naval units.

Despite this, European fleets have expanded their theater of operations beyond the usual seas surrounding the continent, as demonstrated by recent engagements in the Indo-Pacific. This deprives the European mission in the Red Sea of useful assets and places further strain on already limited available budgets. Furthermore, European fleets have been reshaped to focus on low-intensity operations, from crisis management to the fight against illegal trafficking, search and rescue, counter-piracy, and disaster relief. In this context, European navies lost 32% of their main surface combatants (frigates and destroyers) between 1999 and 2018, and Europe’s combat power at sea is considered to be half of what it was during the height of the Cold War. This decline is particularly impactful in the case of Aspides. Unlike other recent European naval operations, such as EUNAVFOR Atalanta, countering the Houthis requires high-end capabilities, with warships capable of providing air defense against threats such as anti-ship ballistic and cruise missiles, unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs), in addition to unmanned surface vessels (USVs).

After years of downscaling, European navies retain only a limited number of frigates and destroyers designed for air defense. These warships are comparatively lightly armed and lack the necessary number of Battle Force Missiles (BFM) and corresponding vertical launch system (VLS) cells to conduct and sustain high-end naval operations effectively. In this context, not only are there only a few usable ships for Aspides, but these vessels also have a limited operational tempo. Indeed, in a high-intensity environment like the one presented by the Houthis, the limited number of VLS cells compared to US and Asian warships forces European units to return to a nearby base to reload their interceptor missile magazines more frequently. Added to this already limited capacity are several problems with onboard systems malfunctions, which some experts believe are due to the cost-saving construction that characterizes European warships. Several naval units destined for Aspides, such as the German frigate Hessen and the Belgian frigate Louis Marie, experienced problems with their onboard missile systems, which affected their availability for protection missions.

Mandate Limitations and the Cost Asymmetry of Protection

These limitations highlight that Aspides, and European navies more broadly, are materially unable to guarantee the level of protection required to restore normal trade flows in the Red Sea in the event of prolonged and intense Houthi sea denial operations. Beyond the difficulty of covering such a vast area and meeting a high demand for protection with limited assets, European forces face the challenge of countering a persistent missile and drone threat. The major issue is not the difficulty of intercepting them, but rather the cost of doing so. As Cranny-Evans and Kaushal note, and as already demonstrated during the Tanker War of the 1980s, “securing shipping requires a disproportionately resource-intensive effort on the part of the defender relative to the attacker when the latter has the advantage of proximity.”

In addition to the aforementioned need for replenishing VLS cells rotating to a friendly reloading facility, European naval units deployed must expend disproportionately expensive interceptors to engage relatively cheap targets. For example, in the initial stage of the operation, French frigates launched dozens of Aster interceptor missiles, costing €1-1.5 million each, against drones costing just a few thousand dollars. This economic imbalance is compounded by the strain such operations place on limited interceptor missile production capacity and stockpiles.

European navies have resorted to various tactical measures to reduce this asymmetric disadvantage, but these do not allow for completely solving the problem. One of the most used alternatives was the use of guns on deck or helicopters to shoot down enemy drones. However, as explained by Italian Navy officers, even though this solution allows for a drastic reduction in costs and does not deplete interceptor missiles stockpiles, it has two drawbacks: first, guns have a shorter range than missiles, so the drone is neutralized much closer to the ship, reducing reaction time and increasing risks; second, when used near merchant vessels for their protection, stray projectiles risk hitting them.

Another solution employed against UAVs has been the use of non-kinetic measures, such as jamming to disrupt the link with the operator and GNSS. An example of this was the use of the Centauros anti-drone system by the Greek Navy. Even in this case, however, these countermeasures were not completely resolutive. Like guns on deck and on helicopters, electronic warfare (EW) remains much less effective against other types of airborne threats, such as anti-ship ballistic missiles (ASBMs). In this sense, the primary defense remained tied to the use of expensive Aster interceptor missiles, as demonstrated by the engagements of the French Navy.

In this context of persistent asymmetric disadvantage, the only sustainable solution would have been to deter Houthi attacks or to limit their operational capabilities. However, Aspides’ exclusively defensive mandate has constituted a significant limitation in this sense. In Operations Poseidon Archer and Rough Rider (2024–2025), the United States and the United Kingdom conducted repeated airstrikes on Houthi missile sites and storage facilities in an effort to degrade their offensive capacity.

The effectiveness of these operations remains contested. Some analysts argue that their impact was limited, given the Houthis’ ability to relocate or conceal assets underground. Others, such as Knights, emphasize that the operational tempo between successive attacks in the Red Sea increased considerably after the strikes, suggesting a temporary reduction in capability.

Whatever their true effect, such operations were never a viable option for the European Union, being fundamentally incompatible with Aspides’ mandate and political objectives. Indeed, the decision to establish Aspides and not join the US-led Prosperity Guardian coalition stemmed from the preference of several EU members to avoid participation in kinetic actions in Yemen, both to prevent further escalation in the region and to avoid straining relations with Iran. Yet Aspides’ exclusively defensive and therefore reactive posture has left the mission particularly exposed to prolonged sea denial campaigns, without degrading enemy capabilities, a situation that is neither sustainable nor productive in the long term.

Addressing the Limits of Aspides: Rationalization, Coordination, and Prevention

Countering air and surface threats in coastal waters and confined basins has clearly proven a particularly difficult challenge, not only for the EU. Other operations in the Red Sea, such as Prosperity Guardian, have also failed to ensure the resumption of normal maritime traffic and have encountered similar difficulties in sustaining prolonged high-end militia threats. Both the U.S. and Royal Navy have faced the combined effects of depleted interceptor stockpiles and the cost asymmetry of defending against cheap threats, along with constraints in the number of ships available to meet operational requirements. The EU, however, unlike these two actors, in choosing to maintain an exclusively defensive approach, could have placed greater emphasis on the sustainability and effectiveness of Aspides by adopting the measures that are discussed henceforth.

The limited number of available air defense vessels is an issue difficult to overcome in the short term. European navies have begun a modernization process, commissioning new warships to restore some lost capabilities, but it will take years for these vessels to enter into operation, as many are expected around 2030. However, one of the main problems highlighted by Aspides was the inability to optimize the limited assets available. Of the 21 nations participating in the mission, only a few have contributed combat vessels (Italy, France, Greece, Belgium, and the Netherlands), and only Italy, France, and Greece have deployed assets continuously since the start of the operation. Like previous EU-led operations such as Atalanta, as well as ad hoc coalitions among European states such as Operation Agenor in the Strait of Hormuz, Aspides confirms the recurring pattern of an unbalanced commitment, especially towards the countries with the greatest interests at stake. It is no coincidence that the ports most affected by the Red Sea crisis were precisely those of Greece, Italy, and France, the main contributors to the mission.

Even the overlap between different operations with European participants in the same waters contributes to straining already limited European naval capacities. For example, several EU members, such as Denmark, Finland, Greece, and the Netherlands, participate in the Prosperity Guardian coalition, providing public, logistical or active military support. This forces some European warships to rotate and reduce their participation in Aspides to contribute to other missions. The decision to launch Aspides and not expand the existing EUNAVFOR Atalanta operating in nearby waters further contributed to a dispersion of resources.

Given the difficulty of materially and economically sustaining a prolonged threat from the coast, the EU also missed several opportunities that would have allowed it to reduce the Houthis’ offensive capabilities, even without kinetic operations on Yemeni soil. Despite the ability to produce much of their arsenal locally, the Houthis remained heavily dependent on Iranian supplies for most of the weapons used in their attacks in the Red Sea. In particular, it appears highly likely that the militia imported components or ready-made weapons in the case of short- and medium-range anti-ship ballistic missiles, anti-ship cruise missiles, and Waid drones, the most sophisticated long-range UAVs used in maritime attacks. These weapons require components and know-how not available to the militia for local production. The Houthis were therefore dependent on Iranian supplies by sea or by land on the Yemen-Omani border. As Knights evidenced, this reliance, which constitutes one of the main weaknesses of the militia, was not exploited by the naval forces engaged in the Red Sea.

The EU could have reduced the offensive capabilities of the Houthis by blocking Iranian weapons and components, both by intervening directly to intercept shipping by sea, but above all by supporting the Yemeni coast guard and border forces with capacity-building initiatives and economic and material backing. In this sense, the EU has provided partial support to the coast guard, but local experts considered the level of aid “far below what is required.” Yemeni forces have demonstrated on several occasions their ability to intercept Iranian supplies if properly equipped and assisted. For its part, the EU has shown on other occasions, such as the fight against piracy in Somalia, how it is particularly adept at capacity-building initiatives and supporting local forces. Consistently backing the Yemeni Guard Coast would have allowed the EU to degrade the capabilities of the Houthis without risking regional escalation and worsening relations with Iran. It would have also allowed the EU to enhance its reputation as a maritime security actor, working cooperatively with regional actors.

Figure 2: Houthi Weapons Supply Chains. Source: Orion Policy Institute. https://orionpolicy.org/the-houthi-drone-supply-chain/

Conclusion

Beyond the specific case of the Houthis and the Red Sea, the analysis points to broader lessons. It underscores the need to improve the efficiency of EU naval operations, particularly in high-intensity contexts, while also highlighting implications for NATO as it prepares to confront the practical challenges of sustaining protracted operations in littoral waters against a well-armed, land-based opponent.

In the short and medium term, to address its limited high-end naval capabilities, the EU is called upon to better rationalize resources and improve burden-sharing. On the rationalization side, the overlapping of numerous missions involving multiple European navies in the same area of ​​operations should be avoided because it reduces the already very limited number of warships available for each mission. From the burden-sharing perspective, once again, the particular interests of member states have constituted the main lever of contribution, leaving the level of commitment of some countries with useful naval capabilities very low, such as Germany, or inexistent, such as Spain. Increasing the level of engagement of these members is essential to increasing the number of large surface combatants available.

Even the exclusively reactive posture of Aspides has proven unsustainable given the asymmetric disadvantage of Western navies in the face of Houthi threats. In such cases, against adversaries heavily dependent on external arms supplies, the EU should combine its preference for de-escalation with its expertise in low-end capabilities, attempting to support local actors in degrading the enemy’s offensive arsenal.

Finally, the logistical and economic challenges posed by the Red Sea engagement provide an incentive to invest in specific capabilities in anticipation of possible future similar conflicts in littoral waters involving NATO. First, the need for new measures to ensure the continued availability of interceptor missiles has emerged. In this regard, the first attempts to recharge VLS at sea by the French and US navies are noteworthy. Second, the need to reduce the asymmetric cost disadvantage in the face of low-cost threats, such as drones, has been evidenced clearly. Particular attention must be given to appropriate countermeasures, such as EW and directed-energy weapons, capable of reducing defense costs.

Aspides would probably return home “on the shield” at this time, but the mission, with its difficulties, provides an opportunity to improve the European naval power.

Giacomo Leccese is an External Researcher at the Center for International and Strategic Studies (CISS) at LUISS University of Rome. He also serves as a Subject Matter Expert for the course of Strategic Studies at the Department of Political Science of the same university. His main interests concern maritime security, both in its surface and submarine dimensions, European defense, and the security dynamics in the MENA region.

Featured image: EU Extends Red Sea Maritime Security Operation Through 2026, Expands Intelligence Sharing. Source: gCaptain. https://gcaptain.com/eu-extends-red-sea-maritime-security-operation-through-2026-expands-intelligence-sharing/

Capability Analysis

Desert Storm Made the PLA. What is the Iran War Making?

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By Commander Ander S. Heiles, USN

In January 1991, Chinese military officers watched CNN footage of the United States dismantling the Iraqi Army and experienced what one People’s Liberation Army (PLA) analyst later called a “psychological nuclear attack.” Desert Storm displayed every capability the PLA lacked, and China had no choice but to begin remaking its military from the ground up.

Two years later, China’s Central Military Commission codified these lessons in the Military Strategic Guidelines centered on “Local Wars Under High Technology Conditions” and acknowledged the PLA had been preparing for the wrong war. The Gulf War didn’t just scare China, it gave it direction.

Thirty-five years later, the classroom has reopened. The United States and Israel are engaged in a military campaign against Iran, and the Persian Gulf is once again the center of a maritime crisis. The Strait of Hormuz is effectively closed. Not by minefields or naval blockade, but by the withdrawal of maritime insurance and the cascading commercial decisions that followed.

Tanker traffic dropped first by approximately 70% with almost 150 vessels loitering outside the Strait. Transit has since collapsed to nearly zero within the first week, disrupting roughly 20% of the world’s daily oil supply and significant volumes of liquefied natural gas. Roughly 750 vessels are now stranded within the Persian Gulf, and the PLA is paying very close attention.

The instinct is to assume Beijing is enjoying the bedlam: a distracted America, its military tied down in the Middle East, and precision munitions being expended far from the Pacific. That instinct is wrong.

What the PLA’s most attentive analysts are likely doing is war-gaming a Taiwan scenario in real-time using the Hormuz crisis as a live stress test for assumptions they have been modeling for decades. Some of what they are finding is deeply uncomfortable. The tactical lessons are significant but broadly familiar. However, the deeper strategic lessons, the ones that will reshape Chinese planning for the Taiwan Strait and South China Sea, are maritime.

The Chokepoint in the Mirror

In 1991, China’s Desert Storm lesson was almost entirely about its capability gap. The maritime domain barely registered because the Gulf War was largely a land-air campaign. The 2026 crisis is fundamentally a maritime crisis, and China is learning a new lesson: chokepoints do not just threaten an enemy, they threaten anyone who depends on them.

Approximately 84% of the oil transiting through the Strait of Hormuz flows to Asian markets. China alone imported roughly five million barrels per day through the Strait, representing approximately 40%-45% of its total crude imports. The Hormuz closure does not primarily threaten Houston or Rotterdam. It throttles Tianjin, Qingdao, and Zhoushan.

Prolific naval strategist Alfred Thayer Mahan understood this. He spent much of his seminal work, The Influence of Sea Power Upon History, explaining not just how navies project power but how dependence on sea lines of communication creates strategic vulnerabilities. A nation that does not control its own supply lines does not truly control its own strategic fate.

The PLA absorbed this lesson from Mahan and filtered it through the lens of Desert Storm’s demonstration of American power projection. In response, China has been building a blue-water navy and acquiring global port access in response.

However, the Hormuz crisis is forcing Beijing to confront a gap that was not illuminated by Desert Storm nor discussed in any specificity by Mahan: China remains critically dependent on chokepoints it cannot protect and does not control. The Strait of Hormuz is the immediate problem, but the Strait of Malacca, through which 80% of China’s oil imports transit, is the permanent one.

Beijing’s Foreign Ministry has been reduced to urging all parties to “keep the shipping routes in the Strait of Hormuz safe,” and reports that China has opened direct talks with Iran to negotiate safe passage for energy shipments underscores that vulnerability. A nation that must ask permission to use a chokepoint does not command it. For PLA planners gaming a Taiwan contingency, the lesson is immediate: any conflict that triggers a disruption at the Malacca Strait could strangle China’s economy before a single shot is fired.

The Insurance Blockade

If the chokepoint lesson is uncomfortable, the insurance lesson may be worse. Within 72 hours of the start of Operation Epic Fury, multiple members of the International Group of Protection and Indemnity (P&I) Clubs, which collectively insure roughly 90% of the world’s ocean-going tonnage, issued formal cancellation notices for war-risk coverage in the Gulf. Major container lines suspended operations. Lloyd’s Market Association confirmed that roughly 1,000 vessels with a hull value of over $25 billion sat anchored in the area.

The chokepoint was not closed by missiles. It was closed by spreadsheets.

The PLA is likely studying this closely because it maps directly onto a Taiwan scenario. Beijing has long assumed that the critical question in a cross-strait contingency would be whether the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN) could establish sea control. The Hormuz crisis suggests a different question entirely: would commercial shipping continue to flow through the Strait of Malacca and South China Sea once insurers withdraw coverage and container lines suspend service?

The same insurance mechanism that shut Hormuz in 72 hours could shut the commercial sea lanes on which China’s economy depends. Unlike a naval blockade, an insurance withdrawal cannot be stopped by force. No navy can compel an underwriter to write a policy.

China has been building state-backed maritime insurance mechanisms and positioning its commercial fleet to operate under sovereign-risk coverage precisely to insulate itself from the kind of Western-backed market dependency that has strangled Gulf shipping. The Hormuz crisis validates that investment.

On the other hand, it also reveals how far Beijing needs to go. China’s maritime insurance ecosystem does not yet have enough depth or international credibility to underwrite the scale of coverage that a Taiwan-related disruption would demand. A harder problem still is even if China can insure its own flag vessels, it cannot compel foreign-flagged ships to continue sailing into a warzone.

The roughly 750 vessels stranded in the Persian Gulf are a preview of what the South China Sea could look like 48 hours into a Taiwan crisis. Commercial shipping frozen, supply chains severed, and the PLAN unable to restart them regardless of how many ships it deploys.

The Fleet Behind the Fleet

The Hormuz crisis is also teaching China a lesson about commercial shipping as a military instrument. When the United States declared a maritime warning zone in the Persian Gulf, it came with an unusual public admission: it could not guarantee the safety of merchant shipping. The major container lines made their own risk calculations and suspended operations. The financial architecture of global trade enforced a blockade more completely than any naval minefield.

Sinokor, a South Korean shipping conglomerate, began asking the equivalent of roughly $20 per barrel to transport oil to China. This is an extraordinary premium compared to the nominal $2.50 per barrel, and this illustrates how quickly commercial sealift becomes a strategic weapon when maritime risk spikes.

China has been preparing for exactly this scenario. Over the past two decades, Beijing has expanded its merchant fleet to over 4,000 internationally trading ships, captured over 46% of global commercial shipbuilding, and invested in the mariner training pipeline to crew those vessels. Critically, the PLA has also been integrating commercial shipping into military logistics planning. China’s national defense mobilization laws allow the requisitioning of civilian vessels, and its merchant fleet has been designed with dual-use capability in mind.

The Hormuz crisis is validating China’s investment in a state-linked merchant marine fleet while simultaneously demonstrating the cost of America’s failure to maintain one. However, it is also exposing a gap in China’s own planning: a fleet that can be mobilized for war is also a fleet that can be commercially paralyzed by insurance withdrawal, sanctioned by coalition financial instruments, or stranded at foreign ports. In a Taiwan contingency, the PLAN’s ability to move troops across the Strait may matter less than whether China’s commercial fleet can continue to feed, fuel, and supply the mainland economy under wartime conditions. The Hormuz crisis is the first live demonstration of how quick commercial architecture can collapse.

What This Means

Desert Storm inspired China spend 35 years building the military it now has. Operation Epic Fury will not trigger the same kind of wholesale structural overhaul – the PLA has already done that work. What the 2026 crisis is doing is stress-testing China’s maritime strategy against live data and finding specific, uncomfortable gaps: chokepoint dependency that blue-water naval investment has not yet solved, an insurance architecture that can impose a blockade no navy can break, and a commercial fleet that can be mobilized for war but paralyzed by the financial instruments.

Each lesson applies directly to the Taiwan Strait and South China Sea. PLA planners are not watching the Hormuz crisis as a distant curiosity. They are watching it as a dress rehearsal, and they are taking notes on themselves as much as on the United States.

Mahan argued that sea power rests on two pillars: naval force and commercial maritime enterprise. China has been absorbing both halves of that doctrine. The Strait of Hormuz crisis is revealing that even both halves may not be enough. The question is whether the United States, which builds less than 1% of the world’s commercial ships, fields fewer than 80 vessels in international trade, cannot crew the sealift fleet it already has, and had no war risk insurance mechanism ready when the crisis broke, is learning it too.

Commander Ander Heiles is a student at the Joint Advanced Warfighting School in Norfolk, VA. He commanded USS Monsoon (PC 4) and is the Prospective Executive Officer (P-XO) for the Naval Talent Acquisition Groups (NTAG) Empire State. The views expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the official positions or opinions of the U.S. Navy, the Department of Defense, or any part of the U.S. government.

Featured Image: Cosco Shipping Lines ultra-large container vessels at Rotterdam. (Photo via Kees Torn/Creative Commons)

Future Tech

Asymmetry Rising: How Autonomous Systems Enforce Sea Denial

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By Rudraksh Pathak

Naval warfare is approaching a point where the traditional capital ship is no longer an unambiguous asset in contested waters. For decades, naval power was measured in tonnage and platforms: the size of destroyers, the number of vertical launch cells, the quietness of submarines. That framework still matters, but it is no longer sufficient. Increasingly, the most serious threat to a multi-billion-dollar surface combatant is not a peer navy’s capital ship, but a mass of inexpensive, expendable autonomous systems that strain the ship’s ability to defend itself.

This dynamic resembles a modern incarnation of the Jeune École theory of the late nineteenth century, which argued that small, inexpensive platforms armed with torpedoes could undermine battleship dominance. What technology has changed is not the idea itself, but its feasibility. Today, autonomous systems allow navies that cannot compete ship-for-ship to impose risk at sea at a fraction of the cost. Concepts resembling Project Seawarden illustrate how sea denial can be achieved not by matching an adversary’s fleet, but by making forward operations increasingly hazardous.

Doctrinal Shifts: The Indo-Pacific Reality

This shift from theory to doctrine is currently manifesting across the Indo-Pacific, where regional powers are actively prioritizing asymmetric denial over traditional fleet matching.

The USV Threat: Surface Denial

Recognizing that matching Chinese naval tonnage is financially and logistically prohibitive, Taiwan is rapidly shifting its procurement toward sea denial capabilities. Taipei is prioritizing the development and mass production of uncrewed surface vessels (USVs), such as the Endeavour Manta and Kuai Chi.1,2 These platforms are explicitly designed for intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance, and one-way kamikaze missions. Capable of carrying explosive payloads, they present a highly expendable, low-cost threat specifically optimized to strike high-value surface combatants and enforce sea denial in the contested waters of the Taiwan Strait.

The UUV Threat: Subsurface Friction

Beneath the surface, the focus has shifted toward generating persistent friction without risking multi-billion-dollar crewed submarines. The Royal Australian Navy, in collaboration with industry partners, is rapidly producing the “Ghost Shark” Extra Large Autonomous Undersea Vehicle (XL-AUV).3 This program aims to deliver a stealthy, long-range autonomous capability to conduct persistent surveillance and strike missions, effectively laying down an affordable undersea deterrence layer. Concurrently, China views the undersea domain as central to great-power competition, actively integrating seabed sensors and unmanned underwater vehicles (UUVs) into a vast anti-submarine warfare network designed to control maritime choke points and compel adversary vessels to withdraw.4

The Network: The Multi-Domain Fabric

Physical drones, however, cannot enforce denial in isolation; they require a battle space management network capable of coordinating them across domains to overwhelm adversary defenses. Acknowledging the need to counter the People’s Liberation Army’s advantage in mass, the U.S. Department of Defense launched the “Replicator” initiative.5 Driven heavily by the operational needs of the Indo-Pacific Command, Replicator aims to field thousands of attritable, autonomous systems across multiple domains within a two-year window. By networking these small, smart, and cheap systems, the strategic objective is to penetrate heavily contested anti-access/area-denial (A2/AD) environments, creating a distributed autonomous fabric that paralyzes adversary logistics and operational tempo.

The Logistics of the Interceptor Trap

The central problem is not simply that autonomous drones are cheap. It is that defending against them is expensive, finite, and logistically fragile. Modern surface combatants rely on highly capable interceptors such as the SM-2 or Aster 30, each costing millions of dollars and occupying limited space in a ship’s vertical launch system. Against a small number of high-end threats, this exchange makes sense. Against large numbers of low-cost autonomous platforms, it does not.

This creates what can be described as the “Interceptor Trap.” Defenders are compelled to expend scarce, high-value interceptors against targets that may cost only tens of thousands of dollars. The imbalance is not merely financial. Missile magazines cannot be replenished at sea, and once depleted, a ship must withdraw to reload. By contrast, an adversary can scale production of simple autonomous systems far more rapidly and with fewer constraints. Systems modeled on the Seawarden concept exploit this friction. They do not need to penetrate defenses perfectly; they need only to force defenders to consume their most capable weapons on the least valuable targets.

Attacking the Logistics Chain

Much of the discussion around autonomous maritime systems focuses on dramatic scenarios involving aircraft carriers or major surface combatants. In practice, the more consequential vulnerability lies elsewhere. Fleet oilers, replenishment ships, and other logistics vessels are essential to sustained naval operations, yet they are slow, lightly defended, and highly visible.

Disrupting these ships does not require sinking them outright. Damage to propulsion, steering, or hull integrity can remove a logistics vessel from service for months. Without reliable replenishment, even the most capable carrier strike group becomes tethered to distant ports. Autonomous underwater or surface systems do not need to breach the layered defenses of a destroyer to shape a campaign; targeting the logistics tail can achieve the same effect more reliably. It is not a dramatic way to fight, but it is an effective one.

Persistent Friction and the Zone of Uncertainty

Autonomous systems impose costs even when they do not attack. The maritime environment is already cluttered with biological noise, commercial traffic, and complex acoustic conditions. Introducing large numbers of small, low-signature platforms into this environment compounds the problem. Distinguishing a hostile autonomous system from benign background noise becomes a continuous challenge rather than a discrete event.

For operators, this creates sustained cognitive strain. Commanders must assume that any contact could represent a threat, even if most do not. Ships maneuver more aggressively, burn more fuel, and devote greater attention to defensive postures. Over time, this persistent uncertainty degrades operational tempo and increases the likelihood of error. Autonomous systems designed for endurance and persistence are particularly effective at generating this friction, regardless of whether they ever fire a weapon.

Conclusion: The End of Maritime Sanctuary

High-value naval platforms carry significance far beyond their military utility. They are symbols of national prestige, and damage to them carries political consequences even when losses are limited. By contrast, unmanned systems carry little political risk. Losing an autonomous platform does not provoke domestic backlash or escalation pressure.

As competition intensifies in regions such as the Indian Ocean, the balance of advantage may increasingly Favor those who can impose denial rather than project dominance. The decisive question is shifting away from who fields the most impressive platforms, and toward who can most effectively deny the use of contested maritime spaces. In that environment, low-cost autonomous systems are not force multipliers; they are force limiters, capable of eroding the operational freedom of even the most advanced navies.

Rudraksh Pathak is an undergraduate engineering student and co-founder of Enlir Avant Systéme. His research focuses on maritime strategy, autonomous systems, and distributed unmanned architectures in naval warfare. His current work explores ontologies for defense systems, systems engineering for unmanned battle management systems, and digital twin frameworks for autonomous operational environments.

References

[1] “Taiwanese Drone Firm Pitches Unmanned Surface Vessels for Coastal Defense,” USNI News, December 2025.

[2] Sutton, H. I. “Taiwan’s Asymmetric Capabilities: Weaponised Uncrewed Surface Vessels,” Covert Shores, August 2024.

[3]”Anduril Wins Ghost Shark Contract,” Australian Defence Magazine, September 10, 2025.

[4]”Exploring the Role of UUVs in Maritime Surveillance and A2/AD Capabilities,” Center for a New American Security (CNAS), June 2024.

[5]”Implementing the Department of Defense Replicator Initiative to Accelerate All-Domain Attritable Autonomous Systems,” Defense Innovation Unit (DIU), U.S. Department of Defense, November 30, 2023.

Featured Image: Medium displacement unmanned surface vessel Sea Hunter sails in formation during Rim of the Pacific (RIMPAC) 2022., Aug. 3, 2022.  (U.S. Navy Photo by Petty Officer 3rd Class Kylie Jagiello.)

African Maritime Forces Summit Week

Developing Robust Regional Maritime Security Mechanisms for the WIO

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African Maritime Forces Week

By Raj Mohabeer, IOC and Kiruja Micheni, Djibouti Code of Conduct/Jeddah Amendment, International Maritime Organization

Introduction

The Western Indian Ocean (WIO) and Red Sea region features a diverse and evolving array of maritime security architectures and initiatives. From international treaties to strategic partnerships and operational centres, these frameworks aim to counter maritime threats and enhance governance. However, questions remain regarding their effectiveness, efficiency, coordination and sustainability. This article examines the region’s key maritime security mechanisms—focusing in particular on the Jeddah Amendment to the Djibouti Code of Conduct (DCoC/JA) and the Regional Maritime Security Architecture (RMSA)—and explores opportunities to strengthen collaboration among them.

As a vital maritime corridor linking major global trade routes, the WIO and Red Sea region holds significant strategic importance. Yet, it faces a range of persistent and interlinked maritime threats—including piracy and armed robbery against ships, illicit trafficking, irregular migration, and illegal fishing, pollution (including deliberate)—exacerbated by jurisdictional gaps and weak coordination among enforcement agencies.

Several international and regional initiatives have been undertaken to counter piracy and enhance maritime security in the WIO, primarily through capacity- and capability-building efforts. Key international efforts include the formation of the Combined Maritime Forces (CTF) in 2001, Operation ATALANTA (launched in 2008), the establishment of the Contact Group on Piracy off the Coast of Somalia (CGPCS) in January 2009, and the formation of Shared Awareness and De-Confliction (SHADE) shortly thereafter. Regional initiatives include the Indian Ocean Rim Association’s 2013 designation of maritime security as one of its six priority areas, the establishment of the Colombo Security Conclave in 2011, and India’s launch of the Security and Growth for All in the Region (SAGAR) initiative in 2015, which also led to the creation of the Information Fusion Centre for the Indian Ocean Region.

There is a need to recognize the wide range of fora and think tanks that contribute to understanding and dialogue on maritime security issues in the Western Indian Ocean, including the Indian Ocean Forum on Maritime Crime, Indian Ocean Naval Symposium, Indo-Pacific Regional Dialogue, the Near East South Asia (NESA) Center for Strategic Studies, the Global Coast Guard Forum, Ocean Beyond Piracy (now closed), One Earth Future, Stable Seas, the Institute of Strategic Studies, African think tanks, the University of Pretoria, and the Africa Center for Strategic Studies.

Although the WIO region welcomed the above initiatives, it advocates for a sustained and indigenous regional mechanism. It is in this context that this article focusses and examines the region’s key maritime security mechanisms and explores opportunities to strengthen collaboration among them. The article focuses on the Jeddah Amendment to the Djibouti Code of Conduct (DCoC/JA) and the Regional Maritime Security Architecture (RMSA).

The Djibouti Code of Conduct (DCoC)

The Djibouti Code of Conduct (DCoC) was launched in 2009 with the support of the International Maritime Organization (IMO) as a direct response to the surge in piracy off the coast of Somalia. Recognizing the urgent need for collective action, 20 of the 21 eligible countries from the Western Indian Ocean and the Gulf of Aden signed on at its inception. The DCoC established a collaborative framework to address piracy and armed robbery at sea, structured around four foundational pillars: regional training, national legislation, information sharing, and capacity building.

As maritime threats in the region evolved, it became clear that piracy was only one aspect of a broader security challenge. This led to the adoption of the Jeddah Amendment in 2017, which expanded the DCoC to address a wider range of transnational maritime crimes, including human trafficking, illicit smuggling, illegal, unreported and unregulated (IUU) fishing, and environmental violations. This shift transformed the DCoC from a piracy-focused initiative into a more comprehensive and flexible maritime security framework.

One of the DCoC’s most valuable contributions lies in its role as a platform for political engagement and regional policy coordination. It promotes alignment among participating states on maritime security strategies, encourages mutual support, and strengthens collective capacity by facilitating joint training programs, exercises, and information-sharing. Building on this foundation, the DCoC is developing a Regional Maritime Security Strategy to provide a unified framework that harmonizes national and regional efforts, strengthens coordination with international partners, and enhances long-term sustainability and impact.

The Regional Maritime Security Architecture (RMSA)

While the DCoC provides the strategic and policy-oriented framework for regional maritime security, the Regional Maritime Security Architecture (RMSA) plays a complementary role by building the operational and institutional capacities needed to put those strategies into action. The RMSA takes a holistic approach to maritime security. This multi-dimensional framework is designed to empower regional states to detect, deter, and respond to a broad range of illicit maritime activities and crimes.

Among RMSA’s most significant achievements are the creation of two vital regional institutions that have dramatically improved maritime domain awareness (MDA) and coordination:

  • The Regional Maritime Information Fusion Centre (RMIFC) in Madagascar: Serving as an intelligence-gathering and analysis hub, the RMIFC collects maritime data from diverse sources, processes it to generate real-time situational awareness, and shares threat information with partner states for the identification of vessels of interest. This enables early warning and proactive threat mitigation across the region.
  • The Regional Coordination Operations Centre (RCOC) in Seychelles: Functioning as the region’s operational nerve center, the RCOC enables quick response to illicit maritime threats by the pooling of the region’s expensive air and surface assets and coordinates joint responses to maritime security incidents. It facilitates multinational cooperation on law enforcement operations such as patrols, interdictions, and crisis management, ensuring swift and synchronized action against maritime crimes.

It is important to recognize the need for sustained inter-regional dialogue and collaboration. The focus of the RMSA is on the abnormal movement of vessels, which is not limited to the WIO but extends worldwide. Therefore, the threats and risks either affect the region directly or spread beyond it. Most maritime traffic is international in nature, and all types of vessels could be involved in illicit maritime activities. For example, there is evidence of fishing vessels being used to traffic arms, drugs, or humans. According to TRAFFIC, illegal wildlife trade involves the trafficking of several protected species from the region to distant markets. This is why the RMSA emphasizes partnerships with other regional and international entities.

Except for one, all RMSA members are also signatories to the DCoC/JA. These countries cannot afford to duplicate institutions and tools at either the national or regional levels. Following the DCoC High-Level Meetings in June and November 2022, the signatory states resolved to develop operational collaboration with the RMFIC and RCOC within the regional Information Sharing Network. This collaboration aims to enhance information sharing and coordination at sea, strengthening the region’s ability to respond appropriately to threats and combat illicit maritime activities. It will improve Maritime Situational Awareness, Maritime Threat Awareness, and ensure that necessary steps are taken to apprehend and prosecute offenders, thereby addressing the issue of catch-and-release practices. So far, the RMSA has significantly bolstered the WIO’s capacity to address maritime threats in a coordinated, resilient, and sustainable manner.

The Red Sea Council

Formally known as the Council of Arab and African States Bordering the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden, the Red Sea Council was established in January 2020. Its members are all signatories to the DCoC. Though not exclusively a maritime security agreement, the Council provides a political and strategic framework for addressing transnational threats and fostering regional dialogue. Once fully operational, the Council has the potential to foster strong partnerships with the DCoC in the Red Sea area—like the role the Indian Ocean Commission (IOC) plays in the WIO—particularly in coordinating regional political support for maritime security initiatives.

Existing Important Initiatives

Initiatives such as SHADE, CMF, and European Union Naval Force (EUNAVFOR) contribute to improving maritime security and the implementation of the broader objectives of the DCoC, with the RMSA centers (RMIFC and RCOC) serving as operational hubs for countries within their respective areas. The RMSA seeks to develop operational collaboration with these initiatives, which would significantly contribute to enhancing regional maritime capabilities.

Additionally, the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) plays a crucial role in supporting the implementation of the DCoC/JA through political engagement, regional integration, and the harmonization of maritime security strategies among its member states in the Horn of Africa.

The African Union (AU) also has an important role, particularly through its Africa’s Integrated Maritime Strategy (AIMS) 2050, which provides a continental framework for maritime governance and security by promoting coordination and coherence among regional maritime security mechanisms.

The Contact Group on Illicit Maritime Activities (CGIMA), an informal forum that carries forward the work of the CGPCS provides a complementary platform that enables international maritime stakeholders, including the industry and non-governmental organizations, to coordinate regional efforts through transparency and high-level information sharing.

Complementary Strengths and Synergies Between DCoC and RMSA

Although the DCoC/JA and the RMSA were developed independently and under separate institutional frameworks, their convergence is both natural and necessary due to their complementary roles in strengthening maritime governance in the WIO. While the DCoC functions as a strategic and normative framework—anchored in political commitment, policy coherence, and regional dialogue—the RMSA translates this strategic vision into operational reality through institutional support, legal reforms, and technical capacity-building.

This complementary relationship exemplifies a balanced approach to maritime security. As maritime security scholar Dr. Christian Bueger has argued, effective governance at sea requires a combination of top-down strategic frameworks and bottom-up operational mechanisms.1 In this context, the DCoC ensures a shared regional vision and high-level commitment among member states, while the RMSA provides the practical infrastructure, such as regional coordination centers and data-sharing systems, to implement this vision on the ground.

Legal and security expert Dr. Ian Ralby notes that maritime threats are inherently transnational, transcending jurisdictional boundaries and exploiting gaps in regional enforcement.2 He emphasizes that sustainable maritime security must be built on collaborative frameworks that go beyond narrow national interests. The interaction between the DCoC and RMSA encapsulates this ideal by fostering intergovernmental cooperation, harmonizing policies, and promoting joint operational responses to common threats such as piracy, illegal fishing, and maritime trafficking.

Dr. Carina Bruwer of the Institute for Security Studies (ISS) in South Africa highlights the extensive challenges posed by transnational maritime crimes across Africa’s coastal regions.3 She stresses the need for robust regional cooperation and the development of institutional capacities to effectively address these threats. Her analysis aligns with the collaborative objectives of initiatives like the DCoC/JA and the RMSA, underscoring the importance of integrating strategic frameworks with operational capabilities.

Together, DCoC and RMSA represent more than a sum of their parts—they form a layered maritime security architecture that aligns political vision with operational execution. This integrated model bridges the often-wide gap between intention and implementation, ensuring that regional dialogue translates into tangible maritime governance outcomes.

Common DCoC and RMSA Challenges and Limitations

While the DCoC and the RMSA have made significant strides in strengthening maritime governance in the WIO, their full potential remains constrained by several enduring challenges. One of the most critical obstacles is the irregular political commitment and varying capacities across the region. It is hoped that the work of the newly established DCoC Working Group 3 will encourage more regional states to actively engage in collective efforts for actions at sea in the wider region of interest.

In addition to national disparities, coordination among the numerous stakeholders involved in these initiatives is often difficult. The complexity of engaging national governments, regional actors, international development partners, and private sector entities frequently leads to overlapping mandates and fragmented decision-making. Bureaucratic bottlenecks, compounded by limited absorption capacity, differing strategic priorities, and competition for resources, can delay or dilute the effectiveness of otherwise promising programs. These gaps not only hinder policy alignment but also lead to duplication of efforts and inefficiencies in operational responses. Compounding these governance and coordination challenges is the rapidly evolving nature of maritime threats. Criminal syndicates operating in the region are becoming increasingly sophisticated, exploiting weak jurisdictions and advancing their tactics faster than regulatory bodies can adapt. Piracy, illicit trafficking, arms smuggling, and IUU fishing are no longer isolated activities; they are interconnected elements of complex transnational criminal networks.

Addressing these evolving and adaptive threats requires a proactive, coordinated regional response. This demands sustained investment in modern surveillance and enforcement technologies, alongside continuous capacity building. Cutting-edge tools—such as satellite imagery, artificial intelligence (AI) for threat prediction, and big data analytics for tracking maritime activity—hold great promise for enhancing maritime domain awareness (MDA). However, effective deployment and maintenance of these tools require substantial technical expertise and financial resources, which are unevenly distributed across the region.

Despite these challenges, there are several pathways through which the DCoC and RMSA can work together to strengthen and further enhance regional maritime security. These include national institutional and structural improvements, a coordinated multi-agency approach at the national level, a shift towards cost-effective investment focusing on human resource development, leveraging technology, fostering improved and inclusive partnerships, and advancing political advocacy and diplomacy.

Conclusion

The foundation of addressing maritime security challenges remains the national maritime capability, which requires sustained and collaborative support from the international community. The absorption capacity of states must be carefully considered.

The collaborative efforts of the DCoC and RMSA have significantly enhanced the maritime security landscape in the WIO. By integrating strategic policy frameworks with operational implementation capacities, these initiatives address the region’s complex maritime threats in a holistic and adaptive manner. The synergy between the DCoC/JA and RMSA demonstrates the power of regional cooperation grounded in shared responsibility, mutual benefit, and respect for local ownership.

Achieving robust maritime security in the WIO and Red Sea requires halting the proliferation of frameworks; rather, it demands effective coordination among existing mechanisms and the international community. The DCoC/JA provides a comprehensive framework for cooperation, information sharing, legal harmonization, and capacity building. The RMSA, through the IOC, complements this by supporting practical implementation in the WIO region, particularly through regional centers and operational support. CGIMA can serve as an effective platform for advocating improved coordination of international efforts.

To extend these benefits to the Red Sea, the DCoC/JA should actively encourage engagement with the Red Sea Council. Just as the IOC has supported implementation in the WIO, a strengthened partnership with the Red Sea Council could foster similar arrangements in the northern part of the DCoC region. Anchoring such cooperation in political will and sustained capacity-building will be essential to building a resilient, inclusive, and regionally owned maritime security architecture. This should be further strengthened through the ongoing DCoC initiative to develop the regional maritime security strategy.

Mr. Raj Mohabeer has been the Officer in Charge at the General Secretariat of the Indian Ocean Commission since 2000. Prior to this period, he had been working as an economist at the Ministry of Economic Planning and Development of the Republic of Mauritius. His portfolio includes economic cooperation, trade, regional integration and infrastructure, maritime security and blue economy – areas of intervention that span to countries beyond the IOC Member States and region. Mr. Mohabeer has been promoting Blue Economy and has spearheaded the development of a Maritime Security Architecture for the Western Indian Ocean under the MASE Programme, actively advocating for the participation of the international community to join in. He has also been the head of the Secretariat for the Contact Group Against Piracy Off the Coast of Somalia. 

Mr. Kiruja Micheni, currently works with the International Maritime Organization (IMO) as Project Manager for the Djibouti Code of Conduct/Jeddah Amendment and has been with the project for the last 12 years. In his role, he oversees the implementation of the Revised Code of Conduct Concerning the Repression of Piracy, Armed Robbery Against Ships, and illicit maritime activity in the Western Indian Ocean and the Gulf of Aden Area. Mr. Micheni started his career in the Kenyan Navy and has extensive experience in maritime security. He has also worked as a security expert for international NGOs and the corporate sector. He is an alumnus of the University of Wales (Cardiff University) in the UK and holds a master’s degree in International Transport.

Endnotes

1. Christian Bueger, “A Glue that Withstands Heat? The Promises and Perils of Maritime Domain Awareness,” in Maritime Security: Counter-Terrorism Lessons from Maritime Piracy and Narcotics Interdiction, ed. Edward R. Lucas, Samuel Rivera-Paez, Thomas Crosbie and Felix Falck Jensen (IOS Press, 2020), 235-245, https://bueger.info/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Bueger-2020-The-promises-and-perils-of-MDA.pdf

2. Ian Ralby, “Cooperative Security to Counter Cooperative Criminals,” African Security Analysis Report. Defence IQ, 2017, 4-7, https://eco-cdn.iqpc.com/gfiles/_jci6qafrican_security_analysis_-_2017.pdf

3. Carina Bruwer, “Africa’s Ocean of Organised Crime,” Institute for Security Studies, 2023, https://issafrica.org/iss-today/africas-ocean-of-organised-crime

References

Bruwer, Carina. “Africa’s Ocean of Organised Crime,” Institute for Security Studies, 2023.

https://issafrica.org/iss-today/africas-ocean-of-organised-crime

Bueger, Christian. “A Glue that Withstands Heat? The Promises and Perils of Maritime Domain Awareness,” in Maritime Security: Counter-Terrorism Lessons from Maritime Piracy and Narcotics Interdiction, ed. Edward R. Lucas, Samuel Rivera-Paez, Thomas Crosbie and Felix Falck Jensen. IOS Press, 2020. https://bueger.info/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/Bueger-2020-The-promises-and-perils-of-MDA.pdf

Bueger, Christian. “Who Secures the Western Indian Ocean? The Need for Strategic Dialogue.” Center for Maritime Strategy, September 19, 2024.

European Union. Maritime Security Program (MASE), 2012. https://data.consilium.europa.eu/doc/document/ST-8592-2012-INIT/en/pdf

International Maritime Organization. Djibouti Code of Conduct (2009). https://dcoc.org/about-us/

International Maritime Organization. The Jeddah Amendment to the Djibouti Code of Conduct (2017). https://wwwcdn.imo.org/localresources/en/OurWork/Security/Documents/A2%20Revised%20Code%20Of%20Conduct%20Concerning%20The%20Repression%20Of%20Piracy%20Armed%20Robbery%20Against%20Ships%20Secretariat.pdf

Ralby, Ian. “Cooperative Security to Counter Cooperative Criminals,” African Security Analysis Report.

Defence IQ, “African Security: 2017 and Beyond,” Defense IQ Press, 2017. https://ecocdn.iqpc.com/gfiles/_jci6qafrican_security_analysis_-_2017.pdf

Featured Image: DCoC High Level Meeting in Cape Town, RSA October 24-26, 2023. (DCoC photo)