In today’s fragmented world—where “might is right” increasingly undermines the rules-based international order—even the strongest alliances can falter. At the Munich Security Conference in February 2025, the United States hesitated to fulfil its long-standing NATO guarantor role, while months later at The Hague summit Europe bowed to US pressure with a historic pledge of five per cent of GDP for defence. Those back-to-back shocks send a stark warning to small states: guarantors can waver when great-power interests shift. For Armenia—sandwiched between Azerbaijan and Turkey—and for Taiwan, which depends on Washington’s promise to defend it against Beijing, reliance on distant patrons is no longer a strategy but a gamble with national sovereignty.
Seismic Alliance Shocks
The Munich hesitation marked a turning point. Delegates questioned whether Article 5 still guarantees automatic collective defence. When The Hague summit forced EU members to commit to a five-per-cent spending target, it concealed deep divisions over who pays and who fights. Excluded from formal NATO discussions, Armenian observers watched from the sidelines as great powers rewrote the rules of engagement without consulting those on the front line. Having visited Yerevan a few years ago, I recall the resilience etched into its streets: medieval monasteries alongside modern tech start-ups, cafés where students debate geopolitics and heritage tourism that showcases centuries of cultural endurance. Yet that vigour contrasts sharply with a largely passive security posture. If the European Union can chart an independent course through its EU–UK security and defence pact, what latitude remains for a small state in one of the world’s most hostile neighbourhoods? Traditional external mediation has clear limitations. The Second Nagorno-Karabakh conflict serves as a vivid reminder: waiting passively for rescue by allies can prove dangerously ineffective. Third-party ceasefires brokered by Russia’s CSTO or the European Union arrived only after heavy civilian losses and territorial reversals. These episodes illustrate that even well-intentioned guarantees cannot substitute for credible national deterrence when geopolitical winds shift.
Karabakh’s Proof of Concept
The Second Nagorno-Karabakh War of 2020 was a brutal demonstration of dependency’s dangers. Drone strikes accounted for roughly sixty per cent of Azerbaijani tactical gains, swiftly overwhelming static defences and armoured formations. In its wake, Armenia first appealed to the Collective Security Treaty Organisation and then accepted EU-mediated ceasefires—only to find that third-party diplomacy arrives too late once hostilities have hardened. As the RAND commentary “The U.S. Can’t Guarantee Armenia’s Security, Despite Azerbaijan’s Threats, but It Can Help” observes, neither Moscow nor Washington can serve as an unfailing protector. Both face global commitments and political constraints that limit their willingness to intervene decisively. The implication for Yerevan is clear: strategic self-reliance must become the cornerstone of national defence. Modern warfare now hinges on technological innovation—drones, electronic warfare and cyber-attacks—rather than sheer manpower or historic alliances. Yet diplomacy remains indispensable. Armenian diplomats must shape international narratives to highlight the country’s contributions to regional stability and its ancient cultural heritage. A proactive public-diplomacy campaign, leveraging digital platforms and think-tank partnerships, can build global sympathy and voice support before a future crisis erupts. Without credible defensive capabilities, however, even the most persuasive narrative rings hollow.
Charting a Path to Self-Reliance
Strategic self-reliance demands a dual-track approach that marries cutting-edge defence with assertive diplomacy. First, Armenia should establish university-industry consortia to develop affordable unmanned aerial systems and counter-drone technologies. Tailored Foreign Military Sales agreements—linking deliveries of advanced radar suites, man-portable air-defence systems and cyber-defence training to measurable progress in indigenous production—will ensure external assistance enhances rather than replaces local capacity. Simultaneously, national reserve-force training and civilian defence education programmes should embed these capabilities across society, reducing vulnerability to alliance whims.
Second, Yerevan must launch a targeted public-diplomacy programme to showcase its technological strides and cultural resilience. Documentaries, academic exchanges and strategic media op-eds can counter coercive narratives and position Armenia as both a bulwark of civilisation and a hub of innovation. This narrative should emphasise eight centuries of Armenian statecraft, the survival of medieval monasteries and modern contributions in cybersecurity and aerospace engineering.
Armenia’s experience offers valuable lessons for other small democracies—most notably Taiwan, which likewise depends on external guarantees yet faces the prospect of delayed intervention. As Eric Chan argues in “What Taiwan’s Military Can Learn From the Armenia-Azerbaijan War”, deploying swarms of drones alongside simple decoy networks can impose disproportionate costs on a larger adversary. Taiwan’s Overall Defence Concept already embraces this “many small things” doctrine; expanding indigenous drone production, integrating AI-guided loitering munitions and erecting coastal decoys will sharpen its asymmetric deterrence. Moreover, Dafydd Fell’s analysis in “Why the Nagorno-Karabakh (Artsakh) Conflict Should Matter to Taiwan” highlights how Azerbaijan and China employ aggressive reunification rhetoric that dismisses local will. Taipei can counteract this by advancing a values-based narrative—emphasising democratic resilience, semiconductor leadership and humanitarian outreach—and deepening ties with Pacific Island partners, European parliaments and like-minded Asian democracies.
Both Armenia and Taiwan rely on patrons whose policies can shift. Embedding clear benchmarks in foreign-military assistance—joint exercise requirements, equipment-delivery timelines and parliamentary oversight—ensures partner support bolsters rather than crowds out domestic readiness. Civilian reserve training and national defence drills further reduce the risk that nations wait passively for help that may never come.
True security for small states emerges from this synthesis of home-grown preparedness and savvy diplomacy. By 2027, Armenia should field operational drone and counter-drone battalions, establish an enhanced cyber-defence centre co-located with leading universities and sustain a public-diplomacy campaign that generates international interest in its tech advances and cultural heritage. Concurrently, Yerevan should convene a “Small States Security Forum” to exchange best practices—from the Caucasus to the Pacific—and signal collective resolve in a world where big-power commitments may falter.
Conclusion
Waiting on distant allies is no longer sustainable. In an era of unpredictable alliances and rapidly evolving warfare, both Armenia and Taiwan must chart their own courses. Strategic readiness is not an ambition but the fundamental prerequisite upon which national sovereignty is built. By embracing self-reliance, these small states can turn existential risk into strategic opportunity.
Self-reliant defence bolsters public confidence and forges resilient societies. For Armenia, operational drone and cyber battalions will safeguard its ancient heritage and future innovation; for Taiwan, massed asymmetric tactics and narrative campaigns will reinforce democratic autonomy in the face of coercion. Together, they can convene a “Small States Security Forum” to exchange best practices—from the Caucasus to the Pacific—and signal collective resolve. True stability emerges not from distant guarantees but from the enduring resolve of peoples determined to defend their own destinies.
