Since at least his first campaign, President Donald Trump has been clear in his skepticism toward NATO and his affinity for Russian President Vladimir Putin. He has questioned the alliance’s relevance, cast doubt on America’s commitment to Article 5—NATO’s collective defense clause—and dismissed European allies as burdens rather than strategic partners. At the same time, he has downplayed Russian aggression and openly entertained the prospect of a U.S.-Russia rapprochement on terms favorable to Moscow. Now, with his second term freeing him from electoral constraints, President Trump appears to be prioritizing policies that could alter key aspects of the U.S. security architecture.
Trump’s approach to the war in Ukraine these past weeks aligns with his broader skepticism toward NATO and has led to heightened concerns about his commitment to the alliance. His decisions—such as suspending and then resuming military aid and intelligence sharing, publicly criticizing Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and downplaying the importance of European allies—reflect patterns that suggest, at a minimum, a weakening of the U.S. security framework. The question is no longer whether Trump seeks to distance the United States from NATO, but whether he is dismantling a security framework that has defined the alliance for nearly eight decades.
CIA Director John Ratcliffe’s call on 11 March with Sergei Naryshkin, the head of Russia’s foreign intelligence agency, has added to these concerns. This marked the first direct engagement between the two agencies under the Trump administration, with both sides vowing to maintain “regular contact” to decrease U.S.-Russian tensions. In contrast, the last known engagement between the CIA and Naryshkin occurred in November 2022, when Biden’s CIA Director William Burns met with him not as part of an ongoing dialogue but to deliver the president’s stark warning against Russian nuclear escalation. Unlike Ratcliffe’s outreach, which signals an intent to sustain intelligence engagement, Burns’ meetings with Russian officials during the Biden presidency were diplomatic interventions, using intelligence channels to deliver strategic warning rather than to cultivate long-term intelligence ties.
Ratcliffe’s outreach coincides with other subtle changes in how the United States frames Russia’s threat to the alliance. For instance, a senior State Department official in February omitted Moscow from the list of top cyber threats during a speech at the United Nations—breaking from past U.S. positions that placed Russia alongside China and Iran. The omission contrasted with statements from European allies that noted that Russia’s cyber activities are ongoing and remain a threat to the alliance.
While these developments collectively raise concerns about a fracturing of the NATO alliance, many argue that the true test of realignment would be a rejection of its Article 5 commitments. However, focusing on this possibility as the defining indicator can be misleading. Trump—or any president seeking to redefine NATO’s role—has every incentive to reaffirm or defer commenting on Article 5 as he weakens the alliance through less visible means. Rather than overtly abandoning Article 5, Trump has adopted an indirect approach—casting doubt on Article 5’s automatic enforcement, enacting policies that erode NATO’s deterrent capability, and even hinting at territorial expansion into Canada and Greenland. While Trump’s subtle but systemic actions might gradually undermine NATO, a more immediate and definitive indicator of a strategic shift lies in changes to intelligence sharing practices. If these shifts materialize, they would provide a far more reliable signal that the United States is instituting a deep strategic realignment—one that extends beyond rhetoric or formal treaty commitment.
Intelligence Sharing: The True Measure of Realignment
Intelligence sharing with Russia would signal shifting policy priorities in ways that are less visible than military posturing and overtures to Russian intelligence, even less reversible than foreign aid decisions, and more revealing of where U.S. strategic interests truly lie. Unlike military assistance, which requires congressional authorization and remains subject to significant legislative constraints, intelligence sharing falls almost entirely under executive discretion—except in cases involving covert action, which requires a presidential finding and prior notification to the congressional intelligence committees under Title 50. The president, the Director of National Intelligence (DNI), and agency heads, such as the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, determine what intelligence is shared, with whom, and under what conditions—without needing congressional approval or public justification. Intelligence flows can be established as abruptly as they can be cut off.
The establishment of new intelligence-sharing relationships—especially with historical adversaries—carries lasting consequences. Once normalized, such exchanges reshape alliance dynamics, affect the confidence of prospective intelligence assets, and influence long-term strategic calculations by foreign powers that come to expect continued access.
Trump has already signaled a willingness to recalibrate intelligence flows. While the temporary intelligence freeze on Ukraine was likely a coercive tactic tied to Trump’s diplomatic agenda, the more consequential question is whether intelligence sharing with adversaries, particularly Russia, is quietly expanding—or whether recent outreach signals a shift that could lead in that direction. Cutting off intelligence access, even temporarily, to a partner such as Ukraine weakens an alliance, but incorporating an adversary into structured intelligence-sharing frameworks would signal a fundamental reordering of U.S. strategic priorities.
Historically, intelligence interactions between the United States and Russia have been opportunistic rather than trust-based. During World War II, the Office of Strategic Services engaged in limited intelligence exchanges with the Soviet Union. Moscow largely used the relationship to extract U.S. knowledge while offering little in return. In the 1990s, post-Cold War cooperation in counterterrorism was similarly uneven, with Russian intelligence selectively sharing information that aligned with its own geopolitical aims. Former CIA executive Marc Polymeropoulos noted that every administration seeks “a reset with Moscow,” and the U.S. intelligence community (IC), following policy guidance, has engaged with Russia on counterterrorism despite widespread internal skepticism that the effort would be “one sided and end up being a waste of time and energy.” More recently, U.S.-Russia intelligence coordination in Syria collapsed amid widespread recognition that Moscow was using intelligence channels not to target terrorists, but to undermine U.S.-backed opposition groups.
Any move toward structured, institutionalized cooperation with Moscow would not be a policy adjustment—it would mark a rupture in U.S. intelligence doctrine. A definitive indicator of such a shift would be changes to intelligence classification and dissemination controls—specifically, adjustments to the “Releasable To” (REL TO) designation. Intelligence products are marked with strict dissemination labels that determine which foreign governments can receive them. Currently, Russia is not a formal recipient under any structured intelligence-sharing framework. While isolated, ad hoc exchanges have occurred in the past—including during counterterrorism coordination or under the Duty to Warn directive—these have remained limited. A shift toward routine intelligence-sharing under a formal REL TO designation, or through broader institutional mechanisms, would signal a profound reorientation in U.S. intelligence policy.
Equally significant would be the expansion of analytic exchanges, where U.S. intelligence experts engage in structured assessments with Russian counterparts. Intelligence sharing is not merely about transmitting raw data—it is about shaping narratives, framing threats, and influencing strategic outlooks. If U.S. analysts were directed to collaborate with Russian intelligence officials under the pretext of counterterrorism, arms control, cybersecurity, or crisis deconfliction, it would represent more than just a shift in policy. It would mark a fundamental departure from decades of intelligence doctrine, legitimizing Moscow as a trusted partner rather than a strategic competitor.
While sharing finished intelligence would already mark a profound departure from past doctrine, an even more consequential shift would be direct coordination on collection operations—an alarmist projection, perhaps, but one still worth posing. Intelligence collection determines what is prioritized, how threats are defined, and where national security resources are directed. Even the perception that the U.S. and Russian intelligence services were aligning collection priorities, deconflicting operations, or engaging in joint assessments would send shockwaves through allied intelligence partnerships—potentially undermining trust and future cooperation—and fundamentally alter how adversaries calculate risk. While no such collaboration has been formally announced, past intelligence partnerships evolving into operational coordination provide a precedent for assessing any potential intelligence-sharing framework with Russia.
Intelligence sharing is one of the most tangible indicators of alliance strength: it is operational, not rhetorical, and cannot simply be replaced by diplomatic assurances. If intelligence disclosures to NATO allies are quietly curtailed—or the quality of shared intelligence diminishes—while engagement with Russia deepens, it will not merely suggest a strategic shift—it will confirm, more than any political speech or public commitment, that a realignment is underway.
Congressional Oversight and the Future of U.S. Security
Congress has mechanisms to oversee intelligence-sharing, but its ability to prevent strategic shifts is more limited. The Senate Select Committee on Intelligence and House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence were created to prevent intelligence abuses, yet their influence depends on political will. Historically, these committees have exposed overreach—such as the Church Committee’s revelations of Cold War-era misconduct and post-9/11 findings on torture—but their effectiveness fluctuates. The recent confirmation hearings of Trump’s intelligence nominees demonstrated this dynamic: Republicans largely deferred to the administration, while Democrats opted for rhetorical opposition rather than procedural obstruction.
This political inertia raises the question of whether Congress can and will act before intelligence-sharing realignment becomes a reality—or anything close to entrenched. Legislative tools exist, including restrictions on intelligence sharing with adversaries and mandatory reporting requirements for REL TO changes. However, recent intelligence legislation has focused on tactical oversight—such as tracking civilian harm from intelligence-sharing—rather than addressing strategic shifts in intelligence partnerships.
While Congress may hesitate to challenge any potential executive-driven realignment of intelligence sharing, the same cannot be said for the IC itself. Intelligence-sharing requires operational trust at the working level—trust that cannot be mandated by executive order alone. A shift toward deeper intelligence cooperation with Russia, particularly in joint counterterrorism or cyber operations, would not just alter alliances; it could spark deep institutional resistance within the CIA, NSA, and other corners of the national security apparatus.
Intelligence officers are not just trained to view Moscow as an adversary—they have absorbed it over decades through professional experience, graduate courses, and public discourse. The IC’s institutional memory is shaped by Cold War history, Russian espionage operations, and countless case studies reinforcing the risks of cooperation. A directive to engage in deeper intelligence-sharing with Moscow would likely not be met with immediate compliance but with quiet obstructionism, internal dissent, and, for some, outright refusals to implement a policy seen as antithetical to U.S. national security interests.
Trump, prone to disregarding institutional guardrails, may believe that as commander-in-chief, he can enforce compliance. But intelligence sharing is not a simple directive—it is a relationship, requiring trust not just between nations but within the agencies tasked with execution. If a shift toward intelligence coordination with Russia were to materialize, it would not be Congress that offers the first, most immediate obstacle—it would be the intelligence professionals whose careers, training, and entire worldview have been shaped by decades of strategic caution toward Moscow.
If political pressure persists and resistance within the IC erodes—through continued leadership changes, restructuring, or shifts in strategic priorities—closer intelligence coordination with Russia could become institutionalized. Even if future administrations seek to reverse course, these changes would have lasting effects: altering how threats are defined, reshaping allied trust, and weakening long-standing assumption that Moscow is a strategic adversary. The real risk is not just intelligence sharing as a policy shift, but the embedding of a new intelligence posture—one that, once normalized within doctrine, fundamentally reorients U.S. security strategy.
If Congress does not assert itself, intelligence-sharing realignments—should they materialize—will not be a policy to unwind but a reality to navigate.
– Brian O’Neill (LinkedIn) is a professor at Georgia Tech’s Sam Nunn School of International Affairs, where he teaches strategic intelligence. Published courtesy of Just Security.
