Behind NATO’s open door lies exclusion

In the folk tale of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, a poor man overhears the magical phrase “Open Sesame,” which grants access to a hidden treasure cave. But when the thieves mark his house for revenge, a clever maid marks every home in the neighbourhood. Faced with universal ambiguity, the thieves are disoriented. No one stands out, so no one is attacked, and aggression loses its logic.

What if global security worked the same way?

What if the principle of collective defense—“an attack on one is an attack on ”all”—wasn’t confined to NATO and its carefully curated allies? Imagine a world where this promise extended beyond the transatlantic sphere to India, South Africa, Brazil, and Iran. A world where no State stood alone, and no country could be singled out for aggression. As in the tale, if everyone is protected, no one is targeted. Of course, we don’t live
in that world.

NATO claims to uphold an “open-door policy,” but that door is closed mainly in practice. Strategic alignment, historical ties, and economic interests remain the unspoken prerequisites for entry. Despite their demographic and geopolitical weight, nations like India, Indonesia, and Brazil are barely part of the conversation.

Even Ukraine’s pursuit of NATO membership is less about democratic values and more about Western strategic risk management. Georgia’s application has languished. Meanwhile, countries from the Global South are kept at arm’s length. This raises a hard truth: NATO does not merely defend liberal values. It defends a specific geopolitical hierarchy born in the Cold War and sustained through exclusive club membership. Those who are not inside the cave are not only locked out of the treasure—they are left exposed.

The India–China dilemma

Could India and China ever form a truly universal security alliance? It sounds ideal for two major powers to stabilise the region through cooperation. But geography and history stand in the way. As far back as the 4th century BCE, Indian strategist Chanakya observed that neighbouring states are natural rivals. That remains true today. India and China remain locked in long-standing border disputes. China’s sustained support for Pakistan diplomatically, militarily, and economically keeps India off balance. In this climate, the idea of shared defence seems implausible. Still, the issue is not whether universal security would be easy. It is that exclusion makes conflict more likely. When security is treated as an exclusive club, it generates suspicion, rivalry, and competition. That is the world we inhabit now.

This logic of exclusion extends beyond military alliances. It shapes how history is written, how voices are remembered, and which regions are seen as central.

Consider India’s historical narratives. Much English-language scholarship on modern India continues to prioritise the north. Dalit movements in Bihar or Maharashtra are often highlighted, while equally significant struggles in the Madras Presidency, Telangana, or Tamil Nadu receive little attention.

Even towering national figures like B R Ambedkar are often framed primarily through their engagements in the north. His speeches and political activity in Chennai (then Madras) or Mysuru are routinely overlooked. Similarly, post-independence leaders like C N Annadurai, who shaped Tamil politics and identity, receive cursory treatment in standard texts. It reflects how knowledge systems often mirror power structures, privileging certain regions, figures, and ideologies while marginalising others.

In Ali Baba, the maid disrupts the thieves’ power by confusing their targeting mechanism. She doesn’t confront them directly; she scrambles the logic of attack. That’s the kind of strategy the world needs today. We must move toward a global order in which solidarity is not restricted to select allies, safety is not transactional, and strategic protection is not reserved for countries that fit a particular ideological or economic mould.

Such a vision would require new institutions, deeper South-South cooperation, and a fundamental shift in how security is imagined. But without it, global peace will remain fragile, subject to alliances that exclude and structures that privilege a few. Until then, NATO’s open-door policy remains a convenient half-truth. The treasure cave of collective security still responds to a particular accent, speaking the correct password: Open Sesame.

(The author writes about politics, material culture, and economic history)

The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.