Madeleine Albright, who served as secretary of state under then-President Bill Clinton and was the first woman to occupy the office, passed away this week. Her work is particularly relevant amid the breakout of a conventional war of conquest in Europe with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Maybe the most consequential accomplishment of Albright’s tenure at Foggy Bottom was the 1999 expansion of NATO to include nations that were once captives within the Warsaw Pact, as well as the efforts of Albright and the Clinton administration to appease Moscow.
As Russia’s war on Ukraine attests, the pre-modern world in which brutal force is the ultimate arbiter of events is still very real.
Of all the legacies Albright left behind, setting the stage for the former Soviet-dominated world’s integration — first militarily and, eventually, economically and politically — is among her finest. As Russia’s war on Ukraine attests, the pre-modern world in which brutal force is the ultimate arbiter of events is still very real. Only the compelling deterrent power of counterforce stays the hand of land-hungry despots.
At the beginning of Clinton’s second term in office, NATO’s eastward expansion beyond its Cold War borders (including a recently unified Germany) was not a sure thing. Integrating first Poland, Hungary and the Czech Republic into the North Atlantic Alliance required the unanimous consent of all the alliance’s 16 member states. It was a treaty obligation, which required the consent of two-thirds of the GOP-led Senate. And it involved mollifying Russia, which objected to not just NATO’s enlargement, but also Western-led military actions in its neighborhood, like one that was ongoing in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Building on the longest-lived military alliance in world history and the European security architecture we take for granted today was a herculean task, and Albright did much of the heavy lifting.
Bundled up in the matter of NATO expansion were existential questions about the alliance’s remit and even its validity in a post-Cold War world. Was this a strictly military relationship, or was it an association of advanced, Democratic nations? Could NATO incorporate these three states without also including fledgling democracies such as Bulgaria and Romania? And if it could, what was to stop the alliance from including the former Soviet republics in the Baltics, which only became part of the Soviet Union because of a corrupt bargain with Nazi Germany and which feel uniquely menaced by Russia? And how would Russia react to what it insists is a direct assault on its interests in Europe?
At the time, some of the most respected voices in foreign policy and international relations regarded NATO expansion with fear and contempt. George Kennan, author of the “long telegram” and the architect of the policy of “containment,” opposed NATO expansion and later called it “the most fateful error of American policy in the entire post-Cold War era.” He and others believed the move would transform Russia from Western partner into an adversary, and many in the West who are sympathetic to Russia’s self-professed grievances still share this view. Indeed, the Clinton administration and its European partners were sympathetic to Russian concerns. Although NATO declined to sacrifice Central Europe’s sovereignty and security over Russian anxieties, they made several concessions to Moscow — some of which threatened the viability of NATO enlargement as a political project.
At the time, some of the most respected voices in foreign policy and international relations regarded NATO expansion with fear and contempt.
In early 1997, Albright traveled to Moscow to reassure her vocally hostile Russian counterparts that NATO’s eastward drift was not a threat to their security. There, she floated a series of compromises, including provisions that would provide Russia with input on NATO’s deployments and even its strategic maneuvers. The Kremlin wanted those provisions to be legally binding. If Albright had consented to this demand, it’s not clear NATO’s expansion would have happened at all.
That year, NATO and Russia formalized the relations with the establishment to the Permanent Joint Council, which later became the NATO-Russia Council. Its mission was to establish lines of communication over security issues. But the “Founding Act,” as it was called, also involved mutual commitments. Among them, the codification of a 1996 statement affirming that NATO had no plan, intention or need to deploy nuclear weapons or permanent bases housing Western European or North American combat troops to former Warsaw Pact states. Albright even “offered to freeze NATO military forces near Russia’s European periphery,” The New York Times reported. She could not offer the Russians what they wanted; a “binding charter” preserving a geopolitical order they could not secure militarily, economically, or politically. But these concessions still unnerved Republicans, who were as apprehensive about the Clinton administration’s intentions as Moscow.
Back home, the Republican Senate majority mistrusted what they saw as Albright’s coddling of the paranoiacs in Moscow. Somehow, the Clinton White House allowed Russia to dictate terms to the United States from a position of weakness. Jesse Helms, chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, related his “fear that the U.S. overture to Russia may already have gone too far.” They worried that the security agreements the Clinton White House envisioned would give Russia a veto over NATO’s mutual security provisions, or even pave the way for Russia’s NATO ascension — something that some prominent Democrats welcomed. Still other Republicans feared that the White House was sowing the “seeds of strife,” in Sen. John Warner’s words, by admitting some Warsaw Pact states but not others. And most of the majority party in the Senate were deeply concerned that the costs of defending NATO’s new members would be disproportionately borne by U.S. taxpayers.








