Allies but not Equals: American Weapon Diplomacy at Play

Authors: Ahmad Ibrahim and Amna Hashmi*

In George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the ruling commandment “all animals are equal” survives the revolution word for word. Only a footnote is added later: some are more equal than others. According to Orwell’s argument, the promise of equality steadily develops a hierarchical architecture in which those controlling resources possess power which yield superior privileges. Likewise, in modern power politics, the translation of formal alliances into equal accessibility to high-end military technologies is not guaranteed. The norm of selectively sharing niche technologies by major powers as per their national interests instead of pursuing collective interests is becoming increasingly common. Therefore, “allies” may be formally equal, while remaining materially unequal.

Perhaps the most recent and apt example is that of the F-35 Lightning-II sale to Turkey by the United States. In the 2010s, as the Middle East crisis turned increasingly violent, Ankara became more anxious about its potential vulnerabilities against long-range vectors employed by violent non-state actors (VNSAs). Fully conscious of its defensive requirements, Turkey repeatedly attempted to acquire the Patriot Missile Defense System from the United States—its NATO ally. However, all negotiations for the sale of Patriots failed to materialize. From Ankara’s perspective, it signalled Washington’s unwillingness to address Turkey’s legitimate security requirements.

To fulfill its defensive need, Turkey opted for the Russian S-400 long-range air-defense system. This move was viewed with great concern by other NATO allies—particularly the United States. From Washington’s point of view, the deployment of S-400 in Turkey threatened to expose the secretive electronic and radar signature of F-35 Lightning-II stealth aircrafts, operated in abundance by NATO. In a retaliatory move, Washington placed sanctions on Turkey under CAATSA, blocked deliveries of F-35s to the Turkish Air Force—including the airframes already produced—and eventually removed Turkey from the program altogether. After more than half a decade, Turkey is now looking to sell the S-400 to any third country in an attempt to re-enter the F-35 program. However, the success of this pathway would require not only Moscow’s content but also Washington’s approval.

While this saga was underway, at a different location, another country, with several bilateral security arrangements with the United States, was actively purchasing Russian military hardware—including S-400 batteries. This country was India. Unlike Turkey, India received a waiver from the Biden administration to bypass CAATSA and kept purchasing high-end Russian as well as American military equipment simultaneously. Military platforms including P-8 Poseidon Maritime Patrol Aircrafts (MPA), MH-60 Romeo Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) helicopters, MQ-9B Sea Guardian drones, AH-64E Gladiator attack helicopters, CH-47F Chinook heavy-lift helicopters, C-130J Super Hercules medium-lift turbo-prop, and C-17 Globemaster heavy-lift transport aircrafts have been acquired by the Indian armed forces from the United States within a span of two decades. In addition, numerous cutting-edge combat aircraft of US origin, including the F-15EX, F-16 Blk-70, and F/A-18 E/F, kept competing for securing sales within the Indian Air Force and Indian Navy—albeit they failed to materialize. To compound the irony, the Trump administration even proposed a potential sale of F-35s to India despite the fact that the Indian armed forces were already in possession of S-400 batteries with five more on order from Russia.

The double-standard of US weapon diplomacy doesn’t end here. The overwhelming support for Israel is also reflected in the US weapon diplomacy. Annually, Israel receives about $3.8 billion military aid from Washington to support its military build-up particularly its multi-layer defense shield comprising of Iron Dome, David Sling, and Arrow anti-ballistic missile system. In addition, Tel Aviv has access to American cutting edge military technologies including F-35 stealth aircrafts. In all Israel-centric deals—including big-ticket purchases—significant economic leverage and financial grants are provided to maintain military sales within the bracket of affordability.

On the other hand, we have oil-rich Gulf States like the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA), the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Kuwait, Qatar, and Bahrain, which overwhelmingly rely on US military equipment to meet their security requirements. Unlike Israel, Gulf nations pay premium prices to buy and maintain these systems. These nations do operate high-end defensive systems, including THAAD and Patriot, but are yet to secure any F-35 sale or any long-range strike platform from the United States. This disparity is deliberately imposed by Washington to ensure distinct technological superiority of Israel over Middle Eastern nations.

The war against Iran further uncovered this reality. During conflict, when both Israel and Gulf states were simultaneously at the receiving end of Iranian long-range vectors, it was aid-dependent Israel, not rich Gulf nations, which received priority in both US extended defensive measures and replenishment of munitions stocks. This distinction is not merely in rhetoric but also in practice. Washington’s own interests determine who receives the most advanced capabilities, who receives grants rather than purchases, and at what level of priority.

These two examples expose the striking double-standards embedded in American weapon diplomacy. In the first case, Washington sanctioned Turkey, a NATO ally, when it purchased Russian S-400 after Ankara denied the sale of Patriots. Subsequently, the deliveries of Turkish F-35s were also blocked on the pretext of safeguarding classified F-35 information. Meanwhile, India, a non-NATO state, was granted a blank check to purchase any Russian system of its liking—including the S-400—while also acquiring weapons of US origin. In the Turkish case, Washington invoked a so-called principled stance and preferred collective interests over individual interests. In the Indian example, however, Washington deviated from its principled stance and followed an exactly opposite approach, thus undermining its credibility as a responsible power.

Similarly, in the second example, Israel received preference not only in the sale of high-end offensive military hardware—which was denied to Gulf nations—but also in the prioritized replenishment of arms stocks to augment Israel’s offensive and defensive capabilities at the cost of exposing Gulf nations to continuous long-range attacks. The hierarchy here is therefore structural: alliances may promise equality, while access to strategic capabilities remains selectively distributed. So, the contradiction here lies not in the existence of hierarchy but in presenting hierarchy in the language of equality.

US weapon diplomacy is ultimately about Washington’s strategic interests with the language of alliance often acting as a smokescreen for the hierarchy in the distribution of military power. Just like Orwell stated in Animal Farm, the concept of equality is still upheld in theory, even as its practice produces a hierarchy of privilege and access. In a nutshell, all allies are equal, but some are more equal than others.

* Ms. Amna Hashmi is Research Assistant at Maritime Centre of Excellence (MCE), Pakistan Navy War College, Lahore, Pakistan.