Shared Threats, Unequal Efforts: Belgium’s Free-Riding Approach To NATO’s Defence

 

A notable concern plaguing the Belgian Armed Forces is its lack of serious recognition, most notably within Belgium itself. Over time, the Belgian Armed Forces have found themselves taking on the role of an educational institution for Belgian youth and serving as a channel to funnel defence expenditures into local industries. The ongoing trend of diverting focus away from the Belgium Armed Forces' core task of defence has been further exacerbated by the current Belgian government, with Defence Minister Ludivine Dedonder at the forefront. Recent examples include decisions such as diverting €100 million intended for defence projects to the European Space Agency (ESA) for sending a Belgian astronaut into space and investing €360 million into potential collaboration in the French-Spanish Future Combat Air System, despite the fact that Belgium is still awaiting the delivery of its first F-35 aircraft. [5]

 

Undoubtedly prompted by the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Belgium later raised its future requirement for the Caesar 6x6 NG SPGs from 9 to 28. [11] However, Belgium is yet to sign a contract for the additional 19 units, as the Belgian government has not yet earmarked any funds for their immediate procurement. [11] Although the (future) acquisition of 27 Caesar 6x6s seems like a significant capability enhancement, particularly by Belgian standards, the actual capabilities that 27 wheeled SPGs bring with them will still leave Belgium with one of the weakest artillery arsenals within NATO. Taking into account the duration required for the entire complement of Caesars to achieve operational status and for crews to undergo training, most likely by the early 2030s, the process of acquiring, training, and operating a modest selection of 27 wheeled SPGs will extend over a complete decade. By way of comparison, Poland successfully placed an order for and received 24 K9 SPGs from South Korea in slightly over six months. [12]

 

While Belgium is to enhance its artillery capabilities, it will still end up with one of the weakest artillery arsenals among NATO member countries. Pictured is the Caesar 6x6 NG, nine of which are currently on order.

In its pursuit of bolstering its military capabilities, the Belgian Army is confronted with a number of challenges. First, it must address the consequences of decades of underfunding all while the governmental body tasked with rectifying these consequences appears to lack a genuine interest in doing so. Secondly, Belgium is still grappling with a number of perplexing procurement decisions made over the past decades. Amongst these, the acquisition of the Land Component's Piranha IIC DF90 fire-support vehicles stands out as a particularly notable example. Purchased during the tenure of former Defence Minister Flahaut (1999-2007), the Piranha IIC DF90 was intended to replace the aging Leopard 1A5BE MBT. The procurement process was marked by peculiarities right from the outset, most notably, Flahaut's decision to opt for a 90mm cannon, a calibre not employed by any other NATO member state. Concerns also emerged regarding the cannon's effectiveness (or lack thereof) against targets like tanks and hardened structures.

 

Moreover, only a single factory had the capability to provide 90mm cannons, and likewise, only one factory could meet the demand for the necessary ammunition. This led the Belgian Ministry of Finance to revoke the purchase approval on two separate occasions in 2005. [12] Nonetheless, Flahaut eventually got his way and succeeded in placing an order for 40 Piranha IIC DF90s in 2006. 18 vehicles had already been contracted when Pieter De Crem, who succeeded Flahaut as Minister of Defence in December 2007, immediately cancelled the order for the remaining 22. [13] Around that same time, the Belgian Army appears to have come to the realisation that it actually had to operate the Piranhas for at least 20 years, and a sense of buyer's remorse set in on their part as well. [13] The Belgian Army then offered the 18 vehicles that had already been received for sale while hoping for a more suitable replacement vehicle. [13] Unfortunately for the Belgian Army, this move failed to attract any interested parties and it eventually found itself forced to accept the 18 vehicles anyway to be able to provide at least some fire-support to its troops.

 

Those assuming that the tale of the Piranha IIC DF90 came to an end at this point are in for a surprise. The concerns raised regarding the 90mm cannon's performance revolved around its insufficient anti-tank capabilities when employing anti-tank munitions. Upon the availability of such ammunition, it was discovered that the Piranha IIC DF90s were incapable of firing them. [13] After a 10-year-long effort to address this issue, the Belgian Army decided in 2019 that it simply wasn't worth trying anymore. [13] As of today, the Piranha IIC DF 90 continues to lack an anti-tank capability. The financial consequences of this saga were substantial, with a cost of €70 million for the acquisition of the vehicles alone, and an additional sum exceeding €5 million dedicated to ammunition—some of which proved incompatible with the very vehicles it was intended for. Attempts to mitigate the deficiency in anti-tank capabilities were partially addressed in recent years by retrofitting 32 Piranha IIC DF30s with two Spike-MR ATGMs. However, this measure remains insufficient in rectifying the shortcomings in the country's fire-support capabilities.

 

The Piranha IIC DF90, just one of the many controversial acquisitions of the Belgian Armed Forces over the past decades.

The Piranha saga is not an isolated incident; rather, it is just one chapter in a long history of peculiar decisions and corruption that has plagued defence procurement in Belgium since the 1980s. Historically, defence procurements in Belgium were regarded as a means for political parties to generate funds through bribes from defence manufacturers. [14] In response to this issue, Belgium implemented a law in the 1990s whereby political parties receive government subsidies based on their electoral performance, with the intention of discouraging parties from accepting bribes from (defence) companies. [14] Many of the politicans embroiled in previous corruption scandals were never brought to justice because the extent of the corruption was so pervasive that any political party in power, when carrying out an investigation, would inevitably also uncover instances of defence corruption within its own ranks. [14]

 

Due to the corruption, major defence contracts were often granted to companies that were willing to provide the largest bribes, resulting in instances where the Belgian Armed Forces had to settle for subpar equipment. While these corruption scandals have mostly become a thing of the past, a situation persists in which the Belgian government appears inclined to acquire equipment not based on its quality but rather to appease neighbouring countries or to secure political favours. While this phenomenon is common in most European countries, its proportion in Belgium's procurement efforts appears to be significantly higher. The culmination of all these factors has given rise to a long-term procurement strategy that has been described by some as being ''shorter than the range of a cannon'', with the resulting failures in procurement decisions described as ''a blunder book the size of an encyclopedia''. [14] 

 

One major blunder involved the SLEP/ELU (Service Life Extension Program/End Life Upgrade) performed on 38 Pandur intelligence, surveillance, target acquisition, and reconnaissance (ISTAR) vehicles in 2019 at the cost of €31 million. After the upgrade was completed, it was discovered that the additional armour and equipment installed inside meant that four out of the five crew members could no longer be taller than 1.70 metres to operate the vehicle. [15] Given that the crews of the 38 vehicles were specifically trained to operate the Pandur and its reconnaissance equipment, replacing them with approximately 150 new recruits shorter than 1.70 metres (in a country where the average male height is 1.81 metres) would of course be an impossible undertaking, especially during a period of significant manpower shortages. Remarkably, this was nevertheless the solution proposed by the Belgian Army. [15] Additionally, further issues emerged with the braking systems after the upgrade. This was particularly tragic, as in 2007, a Belgian Pandur plunged into a ravine in Lebanon due to brake issues, leading to the death of three soldiers. [15] The precise method by which the Army ultimately resolved the issues remains unknown. However, it is probable that the company conducting the SLEP/ELU had to undertake several adjustments to bring the Pandurs back into working condition—a scenario that might have been preventable with better oversight from the Belgian MoD.

 

A photograph showcasing the revamped interior of one of the 38 Pandurs that underwent an SLEP/ELU. The interior modifications rendered it impossible for four out of the five crew members taller than 1.70 metres to effectively operate the vehicle. This is evident in the photograph, where the driver's legs are shown pressing against the steering wheel.

Undoubtedly the most significant strategy and procurement blunder has been Belgium's decision to rid the Army of its heavy weaponry, with the last M109 SPGs leaving the service in 2008 and the Leopard 1 MBTs in 2014. This decision, made during Defence Minister Flahaut's tenure in the mid-2000s, was primarily motivated by financial factors, as wheeled AFVs are cheaper to operate than their tracked counterparts. Even so, the Belgian government didn't even allocate the necessary funding for a proper execution of this programme. On one hand, Belgium rushed to retire tracked AFVs, phasing out 64 M109 SPGs right after upgrading them in what was essentially a giant waste of money. On the other hand, Belgium continues to operate tracked armoured recovery vehicles and bridgelayers due to a reluctance to invest in their replacement with wheeled counterparts. It's expected that the full transition from tracked to wheeled won't occur until the early 2030s, nearly 25 years after the plan to do so was conceived!

 

Until the early 2000s, Belgium operated a fleet of Leopard 1A5BE MBTs, supported by AIFV-B-C25 IFVs, AIFV APCs, and M109A4BE SPGs across two mechanised brigades. Additionally, there was a fleet of CV(R)T tracked reconnaissance vehicles and APCs. In the early 2000s, the CV(R)Ts were the first to be retired, followed by the AIFV IFVs and APCs, which were replaced by Piranha IICs. Subsequently, the M109A4BE SPGs were retired without replacement, despite having just undergone an expensive modernisation programme. Due to the entry into service of only 18 out of the intended 40 Piranha IIC DF90s, and these lacking anti-tank capabilities, the Leopard 1A5BE MBTs continued to see service until 2014. In contrast to countries like Denmark, the Netherlands, and France, which have increased the proportion of wheeled AFVs in their inventories while retaining smaller numbers of tracked AFVs, Belgium's attempt to replace all tracked AFVs with wheeled AFVs was arguably poorly thought out and even more poorly executed.

What remains within the Land Component is a motley collection of wheeled AFVs currently concentrated within a single, large-sized Medium Brigade. Despite its size, the Brigade currently lacks any air defence capabilities and relies solely on 14 105mm towed howitzers with a range of just 14km for fire-support. The actual inventory of wheeled vehicles is hardly any better, with a hodgepodge of vehicle types that aren't particularly well-suited to their intended roles. In their quest for replacements, the Belgium joined the French Scorpion programme in 2017, which resulted in an order for 60 EBRC Jaguar wheeled reconnaissance vehicles and 382 VBMR Griffon wheeled APCs. While highly capable vehicles in their own right, these will do little to enhance the actual firepower of the Brigade (though they will introduce a significant improvement in system networking). Despite a growing demand for heavily armed and armoured tracked AFVs in NATO, which have once more proven their superiority over wheeled AFVs in Ukraine, Belgium is set to become one of just three NATO countries that do not operate tracked vehicles alongside Iceland and Luxembourg. Just to reiterate, Iceland does not possess a military and Luxembourg has just over 300.000 citizens.

 

Perhaps contrary to popular belief, reintroducing tracked AFVs wouldn't necessitate a large fleet to be effective. Denmark, for example, currently operates a fleet of 44 Leopard 2A7 MBTs and 44 CV9035DK IFVs, along with some two dozen tracked support vehicles. While one could question the utility of such a modest fleet, it would enable the transformation of the Medium Brigade into a Heavy Brigade, extending its capabilities to engage a broader range of targets during wartime without the necessity to rely on other NATO member states to provide support. Nonetheless, the possibility of Belgium acquiring tracked AFVs remains exceedingly unlikely, largely owing due to the indecision and lack of vision that appears ingrained in Belgian defence planning and the lack of funding provided by the Belgian government. In fact, the pace of decision-making in strategy and procurement is so sluggish that it gives the impression that Belgium is equipping itself as though the Russian invasion of Ukraine never occurred.

 

The EBRC Jaguar Armoured Reconnaissance Vehicles (Left) and VBMR Griffon Armoured Personnel Carrier (Right) are set to become the backbone of the Belgian Army.

In addition to the Medium Brigade, the Belgian Army also maintains a Special Forces Regiment. However, both the Belgian Army and the STAR Plan envision training and equipping these forces for missions typically associated with conflicts in Africa, rather than focusing on NATO's Eastern Flank. An illustrative example of this is the planned procurement of eight transport aircraft and eight heavy transport helicopters dedicated to special forces operations, augmenting seven transport aircraft already in service. [8] While possessing such capabilities is valuable, one must question whether a force tailored for special operations over countries not possessing air defence systems aligns with NATO's current priority needs. While there is a compelling argument for acquiring up to eight CH-47 heavy transport helicopters, the acquisition of an additional eight transport aircraft will result in Belgium possessing four distinct types of transport aircraft (excluding VIP aircraft), while lacking weapons systems such as tracked AFVs and MRLs. Examples like these appear to indicate that the Belgian MoD is struggling to catch up with the ongoing global developments and is facing a notable misalignment of priorities in relation to NATO's requirements.

In fact, the leadership of the current Minister of Defence Dedonder, is becoming increasingly associated with misplaced priorities. While Belgium has yet to finalise a contract for 19 additional Caesar SPGs, lacks an air defence capability and struggles with ammunition shortages due to funding constraints, Dedonder managed to push through a €360 million investment into the French-Spanish Future Combat Air System (FCAS) within a span of two weeks. [16] After opting not to participate in the F-35 programme in the early 2000s, Belgium missed out on the advantages of industrial participation, yet another short-sighted decision that can be attributed to former Defence Minister Flahaut. Given these circumstances, participation in the FCAS programme early on appears logical. However, the FCAS is intended to replace France's Rafale and Spain's Typhoon fighter aircraft from the 2040s onwards, while Belgium is currently anticipating its F-35s to remain in service well into the 2060s. Considering Belgium's reluctance to invest in even the most basic military assets, the prospect of the country procuring the FCAS and operating two distinct types of fighter aircraft from the 2040s onwards seems highly improbable and completely unnecessary.

That is, assuming Belgium indeed stands to gain from its industrial participation in the FCAS programme. France's industry still harbours resentment over Belgium's 2018 choice of the F-35 over the Rafale. Given that the Rafale cannot accommodate the B61 nuclear bomb, of which some 20 are located at Belgium's Kleine-Brogel air base as part of NATO's nuclear-sharing agreement, the Rafale, despite being the preferred option, effectively had no opportunity to be selected. The CEO of Dassault, who leds the FCAS programme, left no room for ambiguity when addressing Belgium's potential for industrial collaboration in the programme, stating: ''I don’t really see the point in putting more F-35 countries into the programme. Why would I make room in my factory, in my design office, for people who have chosen the F-35? People say we could give jobs to Belgian companies straight away. No. If it’s imposed on me, I’ll fight. I don’t see why I would give jobs to Belgians today''. [17] In short, Belgium is allocating €360 million to participate in a fighter programme it's unlikely to ever procure and might not even gain (significant) industrial participation from. 

What makes these investments particularly puzzling is that, should a war break out in the near future, Belgian soldiers would find themselves inadequately equipped, lacking air defence capabilities, sufficient ammunition and the means to engage ground targets beyond an abysmally meager 14-kilometer range. Nonetheless, this hasn't stopped Defence Minister Dedonder, entrusted with the task of properly equipping Belgium's soldiers, from diverting a staggering €460 million away from the military to (possibly) boost the Belgian economy and to send a Belgian astronaut into space. This apparent lack of concern for the well-being of Belgian soldiers can only be described as deeply concerning. Equally concerning is the absence of a resounding public outcry in Belgium concerning these facts, especially the prospect of Belgian soldiers entering a conflict without even the most basic equipment to defend themselves. If a nation is to be evaluated by its treatment of its soldiers, Belgium should indeed hang its head in shame.

Besides the absence of essential military capabilities, the Belgian Armed Forces faces a substantial shortage of personnel. While this issue has affected various Western European countries, where conscription has either been abolished or put on hold, Belgium faces an added challenge with nearly 40% of its active-duty personnel reaching retirement age in the early 2020s. [18] Efforts to attract more personnel have not yet succeeded in addressing these manpower shortages. In September 2023, they even lowered recruitment standards for pilots and special forces. [19] Addressing these manpower challenges is a top priority for Belgium. That's why it's particularly puzzling that Defence Minister Dedonder has assigned the role of an educational institution to the Belgian Army. [20] In 2023, Dedonder directed the military to enroll an initial group of 200 unemployed youths in a six-month programme focused on teamwork and sports. These individuals won't undergo any military training and won't become part of the army; they will solely receive education from the army. According to Dedonder, 'it's the military's societal role to provide young, inexperienced, and less qualified individuals with an opportunity to enter the job market'. An argument could be made that this is precisely not the role of the military. On the contrary, it's hard to avoid the conclusion that Dedonder's attempt to integrate the role of an educational institution into the Belgian Army's mission, given the context of manpower shortages and capability disparities compared to other NATO nations, is fundamentally misguided.