Loyalty is not a strategy

Albania and Kosovo were among six NATO members to publicly back the U.S.-Israel strikes on Iran. In Washington, that kind of signaling costs less than they think — and in Brussels, it costs more.

By Klea Ukaj (Michigan, USA)

Small states have a well-practiced move in moments of crisis: declare loyalty early, loudly, and at no material cost. Albania and Kosovo both performed this gesture last month when U.S. and Israeli forces began striking Iran. They were joined by North Macedonia, Latvia, Lithuania, and the Czech Republic — six of NATO’s thirty-two members willing to say, out loud, that they stood with Washington. The other twenty-six did not.

The historical record offers at least one case where this posture paid off. In 2008, years of close alignment with Washington yielded a tangible return: the United States recognized Kosovo’s independence, marshaled allies to follow, and provided the diplomatic architecture that made statehood viable. That was a transaction — loyalty tendered, recognition delivered. The Balkans’ pro-American reflex has roots in something real.

But 2008 is not the template for 2026, and confusing the two is where the current posture breaks down. The recognition of Kosovo’s independence was a discrete, achievable ask with a specific American sponsor. What Albania and Kosovo are signaling support for now is an open-ended military operation that Washington itself has not defined an endpoint for — one in which the U.S. has said, repeatedly, that it neither needs nor wants allied assistance. In Washington’s internal hierarchy, statements of support rank below capabilities, access, and cost-sharing — which means they are noticed, but rarely priced. The structural conditions that made loyalty productive in 2008 — a specific deliverable, a willing patron, a clear diplomatic exchange — are absent. What remains is the gesture without the transaction.

“Osmani’s declaration that the hour of freedom has arrived, thanks to Trump’s leadership, is not a position. It is a performance — and in Brussels, it registers as a sovereignty deficit.”
Consider what this moment actually looks like from the other side of the Atlantic. Germany has said that NATO has no place in this conflict. France, Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom have each, in their own register, declined to follow Washington’s lead. Luxembourg called the U.S. demands for help in the Strait of Hormuz “blackmail.” These are the countries whose sustained diplomatic investment moves EU enlargement forward — the countries that fund cohesion, sit on accession clusters, and ultimately decide whether the Western Balkans’ European future is a priority or a deferral. They are watching Tirana and Pristina align with Washington on a military operation they have publicly condemned or quietly distanced themselves from. The message they are receiving is not “these are committed partners.” It is “these are capitals that take their foreign policy cues from Washington.” In enlargement politics, that is not a compliment. It registers as a sovereignty deficit — evidence that Albania and Kosovo are not yet ready to exercise independent strategic judgment, which is precisely the judgment EU membership requires.

This matters because accession fatigue in Brussels is not abstract. It accumulates through exactly these moments: when Balkan governments appear more Atlanticist than Berlin, more eager to please Washington than to build durable European credibility. The perception that Tirana and Pristina “outsource” their foreign policy — first to Brussels when enlargement is the goal, then to Washington when American favor seems more immediately valuable — corrodes exactly the trust that the accession process depends on. Brussels does not need allies who agree with everyone. It needs partners who can hold a position.

The deeper problem is that the manner of this signaling forecloses the alternative, which was available and not particularly costly. In the forty-eight hours after the strikes began, Albania and Kosovo did not have to choose between endorsement and condemnation. A third option existed: conditional acknowledgment, calibrated to both audiences. Something that registered concern about Iranian nuclear ambitions and solidarity with the United States’ long-term security interests, while declining to validate the specific military operation as a model for international conduct — the position, more or less, that Finland and Denmark managed to occupy without rupturing their American relationships. That posture would have preserved European credibility without sacrificing Washington’s goodwill. It required restraint, not courage. Instead, both governments chose the fastest, loudest signal available.

“Loyalty, offered freely and unconditionally, is not a currency. It is a gift. And the problem with gifts is that the recipient never owes you anything in return.”
Loyalty performance is also a finite resource. It depreciates with repetition. Small states that are reliably, vocally supportive of U.S. policy become predictable — and predictability, in diplomacy, is the opposite of leverage. If Tirana and Pristina signal their support reflexively, Washington has no reason to consider what they might want in return. The endorsement arrives before the ask is even made. What follows, over time, is not partnership. It is managed irrelevance: a relationship in which the patron acknowledges the client’s existence when convenient and overlooks its interests when they cost anything at all.

That is the trajectory this posture locks in. Not rupture — there will be no rupture — but a slow drift toward strategic infantilization, in which both Brussels and Washington come to regard Albania and Kosovo as dependable but weightless. Dependable enough to take for granted. Weightless enough to ignore. The Balkans have spent too long building relevance to accept a role defined by its absence.

Loyalty, offered freely and unconditionally, is not a currency. It is a gift. And the problem with gifts is that the recipient never owes you anything in return.

Klea Ukaj is a writer and civic commentator based in Michigan. Originally from Tirana, she holds a degree in Banking and is a prominent voice in the Albanian-American community. Her work focuses on Western Balkan and transatlantic affairs.