Xi Jinputin-style offensive

In recent weeks, it has become difficult to separate isolated incidents from a deliberate pattern. Unidentified drones crash over Poland, Russian fighter jets tear through Estonian skies without warning, and Danish and German airports close their doors to suspicious objects. These are incidents that don't actually cause casualties, but they disrupt routines, force military responses, and sow doubts about NATO's solidity. Putin isn't declaring war on the West—he's just wearing down its nerves, one incident at a time.

At the same time, the Taiwan Strait demonstrates the Asian version of this same tactical playbook. The continued increase in Chinese Air Force incursions crossing the Strait's midline and persistently violating or circling Taiwan's Air Defense Identification Zone (ADIZ) is neither coincidence nor mere exercise: it is a carefully rehearsed routine. In terms of numbers, crossings and entries into the ADIZ have increased consistently in recent years, transforming what was once an exception into a daily instrument of pressure. Repetition breeds habit and slowly erodes the perception of separation between the two sides.

There's an academic term for this: "salami slicing." The expression describes a tactic of incremental gains—each isolated slice is small, negligible in itself, but the total alters the map. Moscow uses it with drones and air raids against European states that are part of an alliance; Beijing uses it in the Pacific against an island state whose defense depends in part on deterrence and the political capital of distant allies. The method exploits the rigidity of democracies: a liberal government, subject to electoral cycles, publicly opines and litigates; it reacts poorly to multiple and constant crises because it lacks the central, unilateral decision-making mechanisms that an authoritarian regime possesses.

The question arises: who copies whom? The answer may not be straightforward. The tactical pattern is likely less a direct copy and more a mirror effect: authoritarian regimes observe other countries' tactical and strategic results and adapt them to their own geographies and capabilities. Putin sees that ambiguity and repetition fray alliances and shape perceptions; Xi observes the extent to which sustained pressure deconstructs normalcy without provoking direct conflict. The result is a pragmatic convergence: mutual learning and a common language of coercion that combines low-intensity militarism, hybrid operations, and diplomatic attrition.

The danger to the West is not only military, but also civilizational and infrastructural. As the public narrative grows accustomed to non-fatal incidents, the line between acceptable and intolerable blurs. Operations thus become a game of patience: who tires first? Who exhausts internal tolerance without losing the stability of their regime? Democracies that respond with rhetoric and sanctions but hesitate militarily allow the balance of everyday life to shift without much noise. It is easier to reinstate open defense than to recover eroded everyday sovereignties.

Portugal has a unique position here due to its position as an Atlantic hub for submarine cables. These cables give the country growing strategic importance, with many intercontinental systems relying on this equipment, making it a vulnerable point on our coast. Submarine cables are not just economic infrastructure; they are critical arteries of digital sovereignty. A physical cut can cause service outages, temporarily isolate institutions, and create windows of opportunity for espionage and traffic manipulation. Portugal, which boasts these infrastructures, needs a national and European strategy that diversifies points of presence, increases terrestrial redundancies, and integrates physical and legal defenses against interference and sabotage.

Ultimately, member states have two essential roles: first, to break complacency without falling into alarmism—to explain that erosion tactics are real and logical; second, to push onto the public agenda practical responses that democracies can implement without turning everything into an immediate military escalation. Measures to strengthen collective deterrence, investment in anti-drone defense capabilities, clear rules of engagement, cyber resilience, and physical protection of critical infrastructure are plausible policies. At the same time, a strategic narrative is needed that puts democracies back in the driver's seat: instead of simply contesting each slice taken by the adversary, designing and operationalizing diplomatic, economic, and technological "counter-slices" that increase the cost of continuing to slice.