Why Geopolitics?

The Return

The resurgence of the term ‘geopolitics’ is often understood as a ‘return’, or even the ‘revenge’, of power politics. Something that was supposed to have disappeared, we now realize had just been neglected, forgotten or even repressed.¹

Geopolitics’ return has accompanied the onset of a new historical era. Different moments could be chosen, but most observers date the turning point to some time between 2007 and 2022, between the Great Financial Crisis and the war in Ukraine, with the rise to the presidency of Xi in China and Trump in America halfway through. Following Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014, European leaders spoke in similar terms of a ‘return of history’, as the post-Cold War peace came to an abrupt end.

The Brussels Institute for Geopolitics, launched in October 2022, exists to help Europe get ready for this new era of great power politics. It is the first and only think tank in Brussels wholly dedicated to geopolitics and strategy. We at BIG see ourselves as part of the wider historic, ‘geopolitical’ movement around us – expressing it, aiming to make sense of it and playing our part in equipping Europe to deal with it.

Power, Territory, Narrative

How then do we define geopolitics? It is an old debate that can hardly be settled or captured in a few lines. Nevertheless, for this first BIG Newsletter, it seems worthwhile to sketch the general approach that will be guiding our work.

Three concepts define our understanding of the term: power, territory and narrative.² Geopolitics is above all the politics of power. To put it simply, rather than relying on the law or the market to achieve their objective, geopolitical actors use power. The precise form, the means and the ways by which this power expresses itself, depends on the situation at hand. Since power is relative, actors can improve their own positions by weakening their adversaries or undermining rival alliances. Military power is part of the arsenal, at least as a last resort, but there are also other forms.

The second key concept is territory. Geopolitics necessarily encompasses a spatial dimension. It is about the strategic advantages or vulnerabilities of a state or political community in relation to its geography: the oceans, rivers, plains, mountains or deserts that lie within or outside its borders. It requires spatial awareness, the will to define a territory and to understand the lay of the land, also in relation to other actors. Contemporary territoriality stretches beyond land and water, not only into outer space, but through sea cables, satellites and other network infrastructure into the aspatial realm of digital and virtual reality. That territoriality is rapidly changing as global warming creates new, unpredictable consequences.

Thirdly, there is narrative. While the prefix ‘geo-’ locates power politics in a defined space, it must also consider the sense of belonging among the people living within these boundaries. Whether it is united by shared political practices, common interests or shared values and customs, geopolitical actors are stronger when they speak on behalf of a group. They therefore have an interest in maintaining, shaping and expressing a collective memory, a story of ‘us’. This incorporates notions of history, identity and culture.

Of course, the elements of power, territory and narrative can be deployed in a number of different ways, but any serious geopolitical player displays the will to act, shows awareness of space and invokes a narrative that links the past, present and future of a community.

An invitation to Europe

Dealing with these issues is particularly challenging for Europe – on all three counts. For good reasons, the EU was founded with the intention of ending war and power politics among the continent’s states. After 1950, it erased ‘power’ from its vocabulary and self-image, preferring ‘governance’ in terms of objective rules and universal values. Europe posited itself as a beacon of rational peace and as a paradigm for the rest of the world. 

Its sensitivity to both territory and narrative – to geography and history – inevitably suffered. Europe pictured itself as a neutral and universal ‘space’ – a level playing field for economic actors – rather than as a particular, bounded and distinctive ‘place’, a homeland. It abolished internal borders before securing its external borders. It enlarged the club without paying attention to who the new neighbours would be.

Europe’s cherished vision of a radical post-1945 break with the past – a leap out of history into a new future – provided the project’s initial drive and enthusiasm, but over time has lost its appeal and credibility. ​​The Brussels narrative is uncomfortable in connecting to the continent’s previous history. When other geostrategic actors hold up a mirror to Europe, forcing it to acknowledge its past – riven with violence and colonization, crusades and religious conflicts, and slavery and economic exploitation – the official EU voice sounds awkwardly disengaged or falls silent.

All of this is why Europe should consider the return of geopolitics not as a terrible revenge threatening its theoretical paradise, but as an invitation to think and act in new ways. The invitation is to re-orient ourselves, to leave boundless universalism and grasp our unique place on the world map and at this historic moment. To ask questions about security, sovereignty and identity, about connections, neighbours and partners, about rupture and continuity and unexpected returns. To wonder what becomes of our continent as the United States orients itself towards the Pacific to face a rising China. If we are entering a new, ‘geopolitical’ age, we urgently need to start thinking about what that future might hold, and ask what role Europe could play in it.