Tsar Putin and Historical Amnesia
In the rapidly shifting landscape of post-Cold War Europe, few diplomatic initiatives were as ambitious or as ultimately successful as NATO’s Partnership for Peace (PfP) program. Launched in 1994, the PfP represented a revolutionary approach to European security architecture—creating a framework for cooperation between NATO and non-member states without the full commitments and guarantees of Alliance membership. Yet today, as tensions between Russia and the West have reached their highest levels since the Cold War, the history of this remarkable program has been largely forgotten, particularly by those who once participated in it most actively.
I spent two years engage in the Partnership for Peace program in Bosnia, and experienced how effectively the dialogue set up by this initiative was in opening up dialogue channels to deal with the simmering tensions. Doing so is never easy, but then mass killings are not a great way to build the future either.
The selective amnesia surrounding the Partnership for Peace is perhaps nowhere more pronounced than in Moscow, where President Vladimir Putin’s narrative of NATO as an inherently aggressive, expansionist organization conveniently omits Russia’s extensive participation in PfP activities for over a decade. This historical revisionism not only distorts the record of post-Cold War diplomacy but also obscures what may have been the most successful experiment in East-West military cooperation since 1945.
Origins and Conception
The Partnership for Peace emerged from the complex geopolitical realities of the early 1990s. With the Soviet Union’s collapse, NATO faced an unprecedented challenge: how to maintain relevance and promote stability in a Europe no longer divided by the Iron Curtain. Traditional containment strategies were obsolete, yet new security challenges, ethnic conflicts, failed states, and the uncertain trajectory of former Soviet republics, demanded innovative responses.
The program’s intellectual architect was U.S. Secretary of Defense Les Aspin, though it was refined and championed by his successor, William Perry. The concept was elegantly simple yet diplomatically sophisticated: create a framework that would allow NATO to work with interested non-member states on military cooperation, peacekeeping, and democratic military reform without the political complications of full membership debates.
President Bill Clinton unveiled the Partnership for Peace at the NATO summit in Brussels on January 10, 1994. The timing was crucial, coming after the violent dissolution of Yugoslavia had begun but before NATO enlargement became a political reality. The program was explicitly designed as an alternative to immediate NATO expansion, offering a path for engagement that wouldn’t trigger Russian fears of encirclement while still providing security cooperation for vulnerable post-Communist states.
The PfP framework was built around several core principles: voluntary participation, self-differentiated cooperation (allowing each partner to choose their level of engagement), and practical military cooperation focused on peacekeeping, humanitarian operations, and democratic military reform. Perhaps most importantly, it avoided the zero-sum mentality that had characterized Cold War alliances. There was no “enemy” to defend against, only common challenges to address cooperatively.
Structure and Implementation
The Partnership for Peace was structured around the NATO Partnership Coordination Cell (NPCC) at Norfolk, Virginia, which became the operational heart of PfP activities. Each participating nation developed an Individual Partnership Program (IPP) tailored to their specific needs and capabilities. These programs covered a broad spectrum of activities: military exercises, officer exchanges, democratic institution building, civil emergency planning, and defense budgeting practices.
The program’s flexibility was its greatest strength. Countries like Poland and the Czech Republic used PfP as a stepping stone to full NATO membership, treating it as an extended audition process. Others, like Austria and Switzerland, participated selectively while maintaining their neutrality. Still others, including several former Soviet republics, found in PfP a way to modernize their militaries and build relationships with Western institutions without making full geopolitical commitments.
The practical cooperation was extensive and substantive. PfP exercises became regular features of the European military calendar, bringing together forces from NATO members and partners in scenarios ranging from peacekeeping to humanitarian relief. The “Partnership for Peace Planning and Review Process” (PARP) helped partner militaries adopt NATO standards and procedures, creating interoperability that would prove crucial in subsequent operations.
One of the most significant early tests of PfP came in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The Implementation Force (IFOR) and later the Stabilisation Force (SFOR) included substantial contributions from PfP partners, including Russia. This marked the first time since World War II that Russian and NATO forces had served together under a unified command structure—a remarkable achievement that demonstrated the program’s potential for transforming European security relationships.
Russia’s Participation: A Case Study in Lost Opportunities
Russia’s relationship with the Partnership for Peace represents one of the most significant “what if” stories of post-Cold War diplomacy. Despite initial skepticism, Russia formally joined PfP on June 22, 1994, and for over a decade engaged actively and constructively in the program’s activities.
The Russian military’s participation in PfP was extensive and often enthusiastic. Russian forces took part in numerous exercises, including the major “Partnership for Peace” exercise in Poland in 1996, where Russian paratroopers trained alongside NATO forces in peacekeeping scenarios. Russian officers attended NATO staff colleges and participated in planning processes. Most significantly, Russian forces served under NATO command in Bosnia, a development that would have been unthinkable just years earlier.
The cooperation extended beyond military exercises. Russian and NATO forces worked together on practical problems: nuclear security, defense conversion, military-to-military contacts, and democratic military reform. The annual “Partnership Work Programme” between NATO and Russia covered dozens of specific cooperation projects, from joint research initiatives to officer exchanges.
Perhaps the high point of Russia-NATO cooperation came with the establishment of the NATO-Russia Council (NRC) in 2002, which evolved directly from PfP foundations. The NRC was designed to move beyond the “19+1” format (19 NATO members plus Russia) to a format where Russia could participate as an equal partner in discussions on issues of mutual interest. The council worked on counterterrorism, missile defense cooperation, and military exercises.
The practical benefits of this cooperation were substantial. NATO and Russian forces had developed unprecedented interoperability by the early 2000s. Joint training exercises had created personal relationships between officers that transcended national boundaries. Intelligence sharing on terrorism and proliferation issues had become routine. Most importantly, a generation of Russian military officers had been exposed to NATO’s military culture and democratic values.
Yet this entire history has been systematically erased from contemporary Russian political discourse. Putin’s narrative of NATO as an inherently hostile organization bent on Russia’s encirclement makes no mention of the decade-plus period when Russian forces trained alongside NATO troops, when Russian officers studied at NATO institutions, and when Moscow actively participated in shaping European security architecture.
Success Stories: Bosnia and Beyond
The Partnership for Peace program’s effectiveness is perhaps best demonstrated through its practical applications in real-world conflicts. The Bosnian intervention provides the most comprehensive case study of PfP in action.
When NATO launched Operation Deliberate Force in 1995 and subsequently deployed IFOR to implement the Dayton Peace Accords, the operation relied heavily on PfP partners. Russia contributed a significant contingent that, while maintaining its distinct command structure, was integrated into the broader IFOR mission. This arrangement required unprecedented levels of coordination and trust-building.
The Russian sector in Bosnia, centered around Ugljevik, became a symbol of post-Cold War cooperation possibilities. Russian peacekeepers worked effectively within the broader NATO framework while maintaining their national character. More importantly, the presence of Russian forces helped legitimize the international intervention among Orthodox Serbs who might otherwise have viewed it as purely Western-imposed.
Beyond Russia, other PfP partners made crucial contributions to Bosnian stability. Polish forces brought not only military capabilities but also valuable experience as a post-Communist society successfully transitioning to democracy. Czech and Hungarian contingents provided additional evidence that Central European nations could be reliable security partners.
The success in Bosnia created momentum for expanded PfP engagement. The program’s framework was adapted for the Kosovo intervention in 1999, though by then Russia-NATO relations had begun to deteriorate due to disagreements over bombing Yugoslavia. Nevertheless, the institutional structures and relationships built through PfP continued to function, demonstrating the program’s resilience.
The Central European Success Model
For the Visegrád countries, Poland, Hungary, Czech Republic, and Slovakia, the Partnership for Peace served as both preparation for NATO membership and proof of concept for post-Communist military transformation. These nations approached PfP with clear strategic goals: demonstrating their readiness for Western integration while modernizing their armed forces and defense establishments.
The Polish experience exemplifies the PfP success model. Poland’s military had been oriented entirely toward Warsaw Pact doctrine and equipment. Through PfP exercises and exchanges, Polish officers learned NATO procedures, interoperability standards, and democratic military governance principles. The Polish Defense Ministry underwent substantial reforms, adopting transparent budgeting processes and civilian oversight mechanisms that had been foreign concepts under Communist rule.
Hungary’s participation in PfP was particularly notable for its early adoption of NATO standards in military education and training. The transformation of the Hungarian military academy system, supported by PfP exchanges and partnerships, became a model for other post-Communist nations. Hungarian forces’ performance in PfP exercises consistently impressed NATO observers and contributed to Hungary’s successful bid for membership.
The Czech Republic used PfP to address the unique challenges of military transformation following the Velvet Divorce from Slovakia. The division of Czechoslovak military assets required building new institutions from scratch, and PfP provided crucial frameworks and expertise for this process. Czech participation in international peacekeeping missions, facilitated through PfP structures, demonstrated the country’s commitment to international security responsibilities.
These success stories validated the PfP approach: gradual, voluntary, merit-based engagement that allowed countries to demonstrate their commitment to democratic values and security cooperation. The eventual NATO membership of these countries in 1999 represented the program’s greatest achievement—successful integration of former adversaries into Western security structures through patient, practical cooperation.
The Balkan Laboratory
The conflicts in the former Yugoslavia provided an unexpected testing ground for Partnership for Peace concepts and capabilities. Beyond the high-profile Russian participation in Bosnia, numerous PfP partners contributed to peacekeeping and reconstruction efforts throughout the region.
In Macedonia, PfP partners played crucial roles in the EU’s Operation Concordia and NATO’s Amber Fox missions. The ability to deploy forces from multiple PfP nations demonstrated the program’s success in creating interoperable capabilities. These operations also showed how PfP could serve conflict prevention rather than just post-conflict stabilization.
The Kosovo intervention marked a turning point for PfP, as disagreements over the bombing campaign strained Russia-NATO cooperation. However, other PfP partners continued their engagement, and the post-conflict KFOR mission included substantial contributions from partner nations. This experience highlighted both the possibilities and limitations of the PfP framework when dealing with major geopolitical disagreements.
Albania’s relationship with PfP during this period illustrates the program’s flexibility. Initially focused on basic military reform and democratization, Albania’s PfP engagement accelerated rapidly during the Kosovo crisis as the country became a crucial staging area for NATO operations. This crisis-driven cooperation later evolved into Albania’s successful bid for NATO membership.
Decline and Transformation
The golden age of Partnership for Peace began to fade in the early 2000s, though for different reasons in different regions. For Central European countries, PfP had served its purpose as a pathway to NATO membership. Once inside the Alliance, these nations had less need for the partnership framework, though many continued to contribute to PfP activities as NATO members.
Russia’s relationship with PfP began deteriorating even before Putin’s rise to power, but accelerated dramatically under his leadership. The 1999 Kosovo intervention severely strained Russia-NATO cooperation, as Moscow viewed the bombing campaign as illegal and threatening to its interests. The color revolutions in Georgia (2003) and Ukraine (2004) further convinced Russian leadership that Western democracy promotion was actually a form of geopolitical warfare aimed at Russian influence.
The 2008 Bucharest NATO summit, where Georgia and Ukraine were promised eventual membership, marked a decisive break. Russia’s invasion of Georgia later that year effectively ended the post-Cold War experiment in Russia-NATO cooperation. The Partnership for Peace framework continued to exist, but Russia’s participation became increasingly perfunctory and eventually hostile.
For other regions, PfP evolved rather than declined. Central Asian partnerships focused increasingly on counterterrorism and Afghanistan-related logistics. The Mediterranean Dialogue and Istanbul Cooperation Initiative extended PfP-like concepts to the Middle East and North Africa. These adaptations showed the program’s enduring relevance even as its original European focus shifted.
The Current Amnesia
Today’s geopolitical discourse suffers from almost complete amnesia regarding the Partnership for Peace era of cooperation. This forgetting serves different political purposes for different actors, but the result is a dangerously impoverished understanding of what post-Cold War cooperation achieved and why it ultimately failed.
From Moscow’s perspective, acknowledging the PfP period would undermine the current narrative of NATO as an inherently aggressive, anti-Russian organization. Putin’s speeches and policy documents consistently portray NATO expansion as a unilateral Western action imposed against Russian objections. The reality is that Russia participated actively in NATO structures for over a decade and that many expansion decisions were made with Russian knowledge if not consent contradicts this narrative.
Western discourse has its own forms of amnesia. The current focus on deterrence and containment often ignores the decade-plus period when integration and cooperation seemed possible. This forgetting makes current conflicts appear inevitable rather than the result of specific policy choices and missed opportunities.
The consequences of this historical amnesia are profound. Policy makers operating without understanding of what cooperation achieved are less likely to recognize opportunities for renewed engagement. Military officers who never experienced the trust and familiarity that PfP created may be more prone to worst-case assumptions about adversary intentions.
Perhaps most importantly, the forgetting of PfP obscures lessons about what made cooperation possible. The program succeeded because it offered tangible benefits to all participants, avoided zero-sum thinking, and built relationships gradually through practical cooperation rather than grand political gestures. These lessons remain relevant for future attempts at conflict resolution and security cooperation.
Lessons and Legacy
The Partnership for Peace program offers several enduring lessons for international security cooperation. First, the importance of creating frameworks that allow for graduated, voluntary engagement rather than binary choices between full membership and complete exclusion. The PfP model recognized that different countries have different needs, capabilities, and political constraints.
Second, practical cooperation can create political possibilities that formal diplomacy cannot achieve alone. The personal relationships and professional trust built through joint exercises and exchanges proved more durable than many formal agreements. Russian and NATO officers who trained together in the 1990s maintained professional respect even as their governments moved toward confrontation.
Third, successful security cooperation requires genuine mutuality in which all parties must perceive benefits from engagement. The early PfP succeeded because it offered real advantages to participants: NATO gained partners for new missions, while partners gained access to training, equipment, and integration opportunities they could not have achieved independently.
Fourth, the program demonstrated that military cooperation can be a powerful tool for promoting democratic values and governance reforms. The requirement for civilian control of the military, transparent defense budgeting, and adherence to international humanitarian law became standard expectations for PfP participants. Many countries reformed their defense establishments primarily to meet PfP standards.
Finally, PfP showed both the possibilities and limitations of institutional approaches to security cooperation. While the program created unprecedented cooperation between former adversaries, it could not ultimately overcome fundamental geopolitical disagreements about European security architecture and spheres of influence.
Conclusion: Remembering to Build Again
The Partnership for Peace represents one of the most successful experiments in post-conflict security cooperation in modern history. For a brief period in the 1990s and early 2000s, it seemed to offer a model for transcending traditional alliance structures in favor of more flexible, inclusive approaches to collective security.
The program’s ultimate failure to prevent the return of great power competition should not obscure its genuine achievements. Russian and NATO forces served together effectively in the Balkans. Former Warsaw Pact militaries were successfully transformed and integrated into Western security structures. Institutional mechanisms for cooperation were created that had no precedent in the bipolar Cold War system.
Today, as Europe faces its greatest security crisis since World War II, the lessons of Partnership for Peace remain relevant. While the specific circumstances that made PfP possible no longer exist, the underlying principle that former adversaries can find ways to cooperate on shared security challenges retains its validity.
The current amnesia about PfP serves no constructive purpose. Acknowledging what cooperation achieved does not mean ignoring why it failed. Rather, understanding both the successes and failures of the Partnership for Peace period is essential for any future attempts to build more stable and inclusive European security architecture.
The men and women who worked to make Partnership for Peace successful in NATO headquarters, partner militaries, and peacekeeping missions around the world demonstrated that alternatives to permanent confrontation are possible. Their work deserves to be remembered, not as naive idealism, but as proof that even the most entrenched conflicts can be transformed through patient, practical cooperation.
As Europe grapples with renewed division and the specter of larger conflicts, the Partnership for Peace experience offers both hope and warning. Hope, because it shows that cooperation between former enemies is possible when structured properly and pursued with genuine commitment. Warning, because it demonstrates how quickly such cooperation can unravel when underlying political disagreements are left unresolved.
The forgetting of Partnership for Peace impoverishes current policy debates and obscures potential pathways forward. Only by remembering what cooperation achieved and honestly assessing why it failed can we hope to build the security architecture that Europe needs for the twenty-first century.