Op-ed: Neutrality evolves

Growing threats and tempting procurement markets provoke a rethink

Neutrality rarely features prominently in international news. Apart from a few high-profile exceptions, such as Sweden’s and Finland’s accession to NATO, the topic seldom attracts sustained attention precisely because its practitioners avoid high-stakes engagements.

At the national level, though, neutrality remains highly salient and society often identifies very strongly with the tradition. And yet it is increasingly contested. Over recent years, governments have struggled to reconcile neutrality with contemporary geopolitical developments and evolving security threats.

Ireland and Austria offer a useful illustration of how neutrality looks from inside the EU but outside NATO, while Switzerland shows how even the world’s most robustly neutral country is adapting to new geopolitical realities.

Ireland’s neutrality is protected by Article 42.7 of the Lisbon Treaty, known as the “Irish clause”, which allows national law to override the mutual assistance obligation in that treaty. In practice, this means that if, for example, Estonia were attacked by Russia, Ireland would be obliged to provide all kinds of assistance except those prohibited under Irish law. This is presently governed by the “triple lock” mechanism requiring authorisation by the UN, the Irish government, and the Dáil.

This system is now under pressure. The government has proposed legislation to abolish the UN approval requirement, arguing that it effectively grants veto power to permanent members of the UN Security Council, including Russia and China. Critics counter that removing the triple lock would undermine Irish neutrality and weaken Ireland’s commitment to multilateralism.

The Austrian avocado

Austria’s neutrality is also enshrined in its constitution, although its interpretation has softened over time. Until the 1990s, Austrian policymakers considered EU membership to be incompatible with neutrality, but it subsequently joined both the EU and its Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP). In 2010, Austria revised its constitutional framework so that matters linked to the CFSP are exempt from the neutrality principle.

Today, Austria draws the line at any obligation to assist other countries in armed conflict, which is why it remains outside NATO. Nevertheless, it is able to participate fully in EU sanctions regimes, limited military pacts such as the European Sky Shield Initiative, and policing and security partnerships. Austrian commentators call this the “avocado doctrine”, with a hard core of military neutrality surrounded by a more flexible outer layer.

Moreover, there is scope for Austria’s policy to change should the threat environment dictate it. Austrian law requires it to maintain an effective defence of its own territory, but Russian aggression may push the credibility of this claim. In September last year, Foreign Minister Beate Meinl-Reisinger stated that one “cannot be neutral when faced with such a threat”. It’s conceivable, then, that Austria may look again at a mutual defence pact, in a similar fashion to Sweden joining NATO in 2024 after two centuries of neutrality.

Both countries are also quite free to export weapons and to take part in joint EU programs; both are signatories to the international Arms Trade Treaty and Wassenaar Arrangement, and are members of the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE). Austria has a significant conventional defence industry, while Ireland has an advanced tech sector that could develop dual use and military technologies.

Swiss arms exports

Switzerland presents a separate case, being outside both the EU and NATO. Such is its commitment to neutrality that it did not join the UN until 2002 out of concern that membership might compromise its status – decades later than the other developed economies in Europe and elsewhere. Even today, Switzerland cannot impose autonomous sanctions, but instead adopts those of the UN, the EU, or the OSCE.

Being outside the EU, Switzerland’s arms exports are governed by national legislation rather than EU law. The current rules are rather restrictive: the Federal Act on War Materiel applies not only to complete systems, but also to components and immaterial know-how. Each export requires authorisation, as does any subsequent re-export to a third country (“end-user certification”). Moreover, exports to end-users involved in active armed conflict are categorically prohibited.

These provisions have far-reaching consequences. Because NATO members are bound to defend each other under Article 5, they all effectively become conflict parties once said article is invoked. As a result, exports of Swiss war materiel, including parts, would have to cease as soon as any NATO country was at war – presenting a considerable risk to any importing country, whose supply chain could be disrupted just when they needed it the most.

For the same reason, no military equipment containing Swiss components may be sold or donated to Ukraine. Swiss manufacturers have therefore been largely excluded from EU and member state procurement processes, arguably representing a missed opportunity for the domestic arms industry.

In response, Swiss policymakers have proposed a substantial liberalisation of the legal framework. Twenty-five countries which are otherwise compatible with Swiss arms export rules would be permitted to import Swiss equipment while involved in conflict. Re-export rules would also be eased, although the federal government would retain a veto where neutrality is deemed at risk. Proponents argue that these changes are necessary to preserve Switzerland’s defence-industrial base and, by extension, its capacity for armed neutrality.

The proposal remains controversial. Opponents are campaigning for a referendum, and given the central role of direct democracy in Switzerland, a rejection by the people would likely halt reform for years.

Taken together, these cases illustrate the growing difficulty of maintaining neutrality under contemporary security conditions. Where Europe once counted a significant number of neutral states, the brutal logic of war may soon force them to start picking sides.

Valerio Montanari works on defence policy in Brussels, and writes here in a personal capacity.