A fleet of M1A1 Abrams tanks once slated to bolster Ukraine’s embattled frontlines sits idle on Australian soil, locked in limbo more than six months after being pledged. The delay — rooted in U.S. export controls and complicated further by the return of Donald Trump to the White House — has exposed the fragility of international military aid pipelines in wartime.
The tanks, retired from active Australian Army service and valued as part of a $245 million military assistance package announced by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s government in 2024, have yet to leave the country. Their transfer, however symbolic or practical, is now a flashpoint in the larger struggle to maintain consistent support for Kyiv amid Western fatigue, political gridlock, and shifting battlefield realities.
At the heart of the holdup is a bureaucratic bottleneck. Because the M1A1 Abrams tanks were manufactured in the United States, Australia requires formal U.S. authorization to export them to a third party. Such approvals are standard under International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR), a legal framework that governs the global sale and transfer of U.S.-made defense equipment.
But this routine process has been anything but swift.
Multiple sources told the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) that the export license has been stalled in Washington, further delayed by a broader reevaluation of military aid to Ukraine ordered by President Trump since his return to the presidency in March 2025. The freeze has affected numerous allies, not just Australia, that rely on U.S. greenlighting to deliver equipment originally sourced from American defense contractors.
“The tanks are ready, the Ukrainians have indicated their interest, and Australia wants to deliver,” said one defense official familiar with the file. “But without the U.S. sign-off, they aren’t going anywhere.”
The export issue is not the only obstacle. Doubts have also emerged within defense circles over whether the M1A1 Abrams is the right tool for Ukraine’s current fight.
The battlefield in Ukraine has changed dramatically since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022. Gone are the days when large tank formations played a central role. Today’s frontline is dominated by drones — cheap, plentiful, and lethal. Whether used for surveillance, targeting, or as explosive kamikaze platforms, drones have transformed warfare, and not in ways that favor large, heavy, fuel-hungry tanks like the M1A1.
The M1A1 Abrams, weighing roughly 63 tons and designed during the Cold War for traditional land battles, has notable vulnerabilities in modern conflict. Most concerning is its weak top armor — a liability in an era where loitering munitions and quadcopters frequently strike from above.
“We are starting to doubt if the Ukrainians actually want these vehicles — the tank roof is the weakest point of the Abrams and this is a drone war,” one unnamed defense official told ABC.
That skepticism is not limited to Australian observers. Ukrainian commanders have voiced mixed feelings about the Abrams platform. While grateful for any armor they can get, they also know that Russia has adapted, too. Moscow’s forces now employ drone swarms, electronic warfare, and anti-tank mines in abundance. Every tank that arrives becomes a high-value target.
Despite the practical limitations of the M1A1, the gesture carries strategic weight. Australia’s tank donation was part of a larger commitment that included air-defense systems, artillery shells, and other matériel. The Albanese government touted the package as evidence of Canberra’s resolve to support democracy and the rule of law.
“We are standing with Ukraine because their fight is a fight for the principles that underpin our international order,” said Defense Minister Richard Marles at the time of the announcement.
Yet six months on, the tanks are still parked, and criticism has started to build.
Some Australian defense analysts say the government overcommitted without fully appreciating the logistical and diplomatic hurdles. Others argue that the donation was performative — a symbolic act aimed at international optics rather than actual battlefield utility.
“Sending old tanks that are nearing the end of their operational life doesn’t shift the balance of power,” said Marcus Hellyer, a former senior defense strategist. “But it does raise questions when those tanks can’t even make it to port.”
Another factor complicating the transfer is the growing speculation about a potential ceasefire or negotiated peace settlement between Russia and Ukraine. Though still remote, the possibility of diplomatic talks — possibly driven by pressure from European states or an American administration eager to end what Trump has called “a foreign war that’s not our business” — is weighing heavily on planning.
“It would be embarrassing to have the tanks on board ships in the middle of the ocean if a ceasefire is announced,” said a defense source. “That’s not the kind of headline anyone wants.”
The uncertainty has prompted caution within both the Australian Department of Defence and its Ukrainian counterparts. Not only are there concerns about optics, but also about logistics: who would crew the tanks, how they’d be sustained in the field, and whether Australian personnel would be required to assist with training or maintenance.
Ukraine’s current manpower challenges add to the problem. With many of its experienced soldiers already engaged on the front or lost to combat, Kyiv is scrambling to retrain and reconstitute its units. Integrating foreign armor — particularly one as complex and maintenance-intensive as the M1A1 — isn’t just a question of hardware; it demands time, fuel, spare parts, and specialized knowledge.
Australia’s delay mirrors a broader trend among Ukraine’s Western allies. Since late 2024, the momentum behind foreign aid packages has slowed. With elections, economic pressures, and shifting public sentiment affecting donor countries, the flow of arms has become less predictable.
The return of Donald Trump has dramatically amplified this trend. His administration’s decision to freeze new military aid shipments has had a chilling effect. While existing packages are still technically valid, few allies are confident that U.S. cooperation will remain steady.
For Ukraine, this creates a dangerous window. Russia has used this period to regroup, dig in, and ramp up production of drones and missiles. Without timely reinforcements, Kyiv risks losing ground not just physically but politically, as perceptions of abandonment grow.
In this context, even Australia’s retired tanks could matter — not because they are ideal, but because they signal that Ukraine has not been forgotten.
To understand how desperate Ukraine is for armor, one need only look at the range of vehicles it has deployed in recent months. Among them are Soviet-era tanks pulled from storage, refurbished Polish infantry carriers, and even vintage museum pieces like the British Ferret armored scout car — a relic of the Cold War.
That such vehicles are being pressed into service underscores the brutal attrition Ukraine faces. While Western analysts debate the utility of the Abrams, Ukrainian troops are driving into battle in 70-year-old machinery.
“The Ukrainians will take whatever they can get — and make it work,” said Kateryna Stepanenko, a military analyst at the Institute for the Study of War. “They don’t have the luxury of turning away armor just because it’s old or imperfect.”
Still, she acknowledges the Abrams presents challenges: “It’s not a plug-and-play system. It requires deep support. But the symbolism matters too. It shows the West hasn’t abandoned them.”
Despite the growing doubts, the Australian government insists the transfer is still on track. In a statement to ABC, a Department of Defence spokesperson said: “Australia remains on target to meet the delivery of the M1A1 Abrams in 2025. The M1A1 export process remains ongoing. Defence continues to work with the Ukrainian government in line with agreed arrangements for the gifting, including on delivery and sustainment.”
That 2025 timeline is already longer than many expected. Whether it slips further may depend less on Australian intent and more on U.S. decisions. Until Washington acts, Canberra’s tanks are going nowhere.
As of now, 59 M1A1 tanks sit in storage in Australia. Purchased in 2007 and never used in combat, they are being phased out in favor of the upgraded M1A2 variant. If they are eventually shipped to Ukraine, they may arrive into a conflict very different from the one that began in 2022.
