The end of the Cold War changed NATO's concept of operations. Instead of serving as a standing deterrent that would roll out as a large collective force in a defensive role, the alliance became the skeletal organizer of Western military muscle. NATO's structure lent itself to seemingly random operations with limited aims and duration, as well as interventions that required a long-game approach with multinational flavor. Small groups or coalitions of NATO members, united by a particular interest in a region, would act as first responders to a developing scenario. Once the initial step is taken, NATO possesses the ability to overlay a command, logistical and operational framework. A series of divisional headquarters give the organization a "plug-and-play" capability, delivering easily deployable command structures once political decision-making and force contributions have occurred. This system has worked relatively well for clear-cut, far-reaching missions that enjoy broad international support, anti-piracy missions and evacuations being prime examples.
Modern NATO's strength — 28 member states combined into a collective defense agreement — is also its Achilles' heel. The organization's members invariably have divergent geographic imperatives, differing perceived threats and lack a unifying enemy, for now. Unanimity is critical, not only for decision-making but also to guide the organization. Unfortunately, NATO has trouble agreeing on the most basic measures, which has been a recipe for strategic waffling and stagnation, leaving little opportunity for cohesive military development in an agreed direction. Any potential mission that could have political repercussions against a single member is unlikely to get off the ground. As a result, NATO has struggled to remain relevant in the post-Cold War world. Instead of being a nexus of global power, NATO more often than not has been relegated to being a tool of convenience, used when the political will exists and the timing is appropriate.
