Lockdowns are being eased in many countries, but from different starting points in terms of prevalence of the virus, and with different near-term trade-offs between protecting life and easing constraints on economic activity.

The pressure to ease is understandable. The IMF estimates $10tn has been spent so far on official support measures worldwide, and forecasts global GDP will contract by an unprecedented 4.9% in 2020.

However, the WHO director general, Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, recently insisted that there is an ‘urgent responsibility to do everything we can with the tools we have now to suppress transmission and save lives’, even as research into vaccines and therapeutics continues.

Focusing on suppressing and eliminating the virus as quickly as possible is not just the best strategy for saving life, it also makes most sense in terms of minimising the long-term economic damage from the pandemic.

The alternatives remain uncertain

Neither a vaccine nor improved treatment are currently sufficiently certain to be the focal point for an economic recovery strategy. Despite optimism about vaccine development, there is no certainty of a decisive outcome by a given date. And, even if a vaccine proved effective, manufacturing and distributing it to 8bn people will present an unprecedented set of logistical and economic challenges and take many months, if not years.

In the meantime, although substantial progress has been made in reducing loss of life among those made seriously ill by the virus - and who have access to advanced medical facilities - it remains highly dangerous for a significant proportion of the population - around 20% in advanced economies.

An alternative containment strategy based on gradually reducing the prevalence of the virus in the population by maintaining an “R” number (replication coefficient) just below one will be both economically costly and highly risky when compared with a decisive push to eliminate the virus quickly.

With an R number just below one it is true the virus may eventually disappear, but only over a lengthy period, during which economically damaging social distancing measures will have to stay in place, dragging out the impact on both demand and supply.

Wage support measures to limit ‘economic scarring’ will have to be maintained, and kickstarting the economy with a conventional fiscal stimulus will be difficult, if not impossible, especially when the ability - or willingness - of consumers to spend is still heavily constrained either by social distancing measures or a lack of confidence.

There is also a major risk when the R number is close to one that the virus could suddenly take off again, leading to a complete failure of the strategy.

Benefits of suppress and eliminate

A successful policy focused on suppressing and eliminating the virus offers much better prospects. First, the government can then protect the vast bulk of the economy within its territory, even if it means continuing travel restrictions for some time vis-a-vis countries that are less committed to or less successful in eliminating the virus.

Some sectors - particularly long-haul air transport - will be hard hit, but other critical high value or employment intensive sectors - such as domestic hospitality, leisure and the arts - will be able to make a substantial recovery. To put it bluntly, the authorities may have to hold back some sectors to save others. Such a strategy would also ensure an economy can participate sustainably in free travel zones with other countries.

Second, a drive to suppress and eliminate the virus in the shortest possible timeframe, and then maintain that status, will help authorities communicate clearly to the public the overarching framework guiding the application of social distancing measures, and the nature of the ‘new normal’ economy that can be expected to emerge over the medium to long-term.

Achieving such clarity will enhance the public’s trust in the government’s strategy and hence responsiveness to government instructions. It will also minimise unnecessary and costly adaptations by business and increase its ability to target new opportunities arising from the genuine long-term changes brought about by the crisis.

In addition, a suppress and eliminate strategy is the only sure way to address the disproportionate impact of the virus on ethnic minorities and the poor, and to put an end to the isolation of the millions who currently have to shield themselves.

We know that suppressing the virus almost completely within a given territory is possible because some countries have already done it - notably New Zealand, South Korea, and Taiwan. Some which started with a serious epidemic, such as China, Spain and Italy, have also managed to reach a point where almost complete elimination within their territory can be envisaged.

Renewed outbreaks are likely to happen, particularly while the virus remains in active circulation globally. But this does not invalidate the underlying suppress and eliminate strategy.

Key policies to suppress and eliminate the virus include: a rapid and decisive national lockdown to reduce the disease to levels low enough for test, trace and quarantine systems to identify and suppress local outbreaks; social distancing measures for a limited period or in a specific locality to limit spread while, as far as possible, minimising economic impact; and effective quarantine and track systems applied at borders to prevent the disease from being re-introduced by non-essential travellers and returning nationals.

The precise form of these policies is evolving rapidly as we learn more about the virus. For example, if there is a need today to stop a rapidly escalating epidemic in a given territory, it won’t necessarily mean adopting exactly the same package of lock down measures across the board as were applied three months ago. Several activities had to cease then simply because the virus was spreading so fast there was no time to put in place effective mitigation measures. This does not have to be repeated.

In addition, the benefits of the widespread use of face masks are now much better understood. As is the value of deploying a battery of measures, each one only partially effective on its own but, in combination, with a decisive impact. Financial support measures may need to be adjusted or extended to underpin local lockdowns and, at any given point, the authorities will need to work within an overall budget for relaxation measures and prioritise - getting pupils back in school may mean holding back easing of restrictions elsewhere.

Choosing an effective strategy inevitably means making tough choices. Delaying short-term recovery measures, even by a matter of weeks in whole economies or specific localities, can make a decisive difference to delivering a long-term sustainable economic outcome. The authorities may also be forced to hold back some economic sectors, possibly even leading to permanent damage, as the price of a general recovery. But if we are not ready to make these choices, the economy may become permanently stuck in a halfway house between lockdown and recovery.

As with any history, Chatham House has a long and complex one. Progress has come in fits and starts, sometimes driven by wider social change, but often led by individuals within the institute. When examining the institute's work on Africa, five seminal moments from the history really stood out.

The Founders

Lionel Curtis is credited as the founder of the institute, having proposed the idea at a meeting at the Hotel Majestic while attending the Treaty of Versailles talks.

Curtis served in South Africa during the Second Boer war and subsequent period of unification. He was one of the cohort of officials that served under Lord Milner, later dubbed ‘Milner’s Kindergarten’. Several of this group were involved in the foundation of the institute.

His experiences in South Africa undoubtedly informed his political philosophy - a strong belief in liberal imperialism. This is captured in the emblems of empire inlaid into the roundtable which is still in the Chatham House library, given to Curtis as a wedding gift.

But more importantly than his political philosophy, Curtis was an astute social networker and fundraiser who unlocked the finance required to establish the institute. Curtis’s papers in the Chatham House archives depict his almost obsessive following of the career of the South African diamond tycoon Sir Abe Bailey that eventually led to the first significant endowment to the institute - after the building. South African Prime Minister Jan Smuts, a friend of Curtis and early champion of the institute, spoke at a dinner in honour of Bailey’s contribution.

Curtis’s connections meant much of the early finance came from South Africa, including from Otto Beit and Percy Molteno, who was also an early financer of the African National Congress (ANC).

Hailey’s Africa Survey

In 1938, Chatham House published Lord Hailey’s monumental Africa Survey. Its detailed 1,837 pages of study came to represent a seismic shift in attitudes towards the continent. Lord Lothian’s foreword emphasises that it grew from an idea of Smuts from 1929, although these origins remain disputed.

What is known is that Oxford University had submitted a proposal for a study of the continent to an American foundation which rejected it on the grounds that they didn’t want American money to be used to expand Smut’s doctrine of dominion. The group then merged their own plan into an emerging study by progressive missionary Joseph Oldham.

Curtis brought in his friend Lord Hailey to lead the initiative. Hailey was a distinguished civil servant who served in India but never in Africa. The project moved to Chatham House and received a substantial grant from the Carnegie Foundation. Having been originally conceived as a study to reinforce segregationist ideas, the final survey was groundbreaking. Its underlying assumption of basic racial equality debunked the premises of segregation and re-set British attitudes towards Africa.

This shift in mindset was hugely significant at the time, but the work would later be criticized for not including any African voices. And, despite carrying his name, Lord Lothian wrote very little of the text. He fell ill, in part due to the pressure of the four-year project, and the work was largely written by notable Africanists Lucy Mair, Charlotte Leubuscher, and Margery Perham. The Africa Survey was updated and reprinted in 1956, including a pull-out map depicting newly-independent Sudan. A sign of real change.

Independence and National Liberation

The 1960s was a decade of transformation both on the continent and at Chatham House. The institute became an important conduit for newly-independent African states to engage in international affairs, hosting several independence presidents, including Prime Minister Modibo Keita of Mali, President Léopold Senghor of Senegal, and President Julius Nyerere of Tanzania. Many of these speeches were republished in the Institute’s journal, International Affairs.

In January 1962, the Nigerian government invited Chatham House to host a conference in Lagos on the external international relations of the newly-independent African states. But it wasn’t just presidents that were offered a platform. Liberation leaders were also invited to speak as well as conduct research.

Dr Bernard Chidzero, a later finance minister in independent Zimbabwe, wrote on African nationalism in International Affairs in 1960, and conducted a multi-year study at the institute resulting in the publication of a book. In 1968, Eduardo Mondlane, founding president of FRELIMO, made an important speech on the nationalist fight for independence in Mozambique.

In 1961, Kenneth Younger, a new director of the institute, increased its research capacity on Africa through significant new hires. Catherine Hoskyns’s 1965 book on the Congo crisis became the seminal study on the topic. Dennis Austin, who had experience in West Africa, wrote the definitive work on Ghana’s transition to independence in 1964.

African Institutes

Chatham House has also been involved in the establishment of think-tanks across the world, including three in Africa.

The South African Institute of International Affairs (SAIIA) was founded in 1934, in response to proposals made by Chatham House the previous year at the inaugural British Commonwealth Relations Conference. An East African Institute of International Affairs was also established in Nairobi but did not survive. The Nigerian Institute of International Affairs (NIIA) was formed in 1961 in Lagos. Its founding director general Dr L A Fabunmi, said ‘the main task of the Nigerian Institute of International Affairs will be to create, develop, and sustain an African perspective in world affairs’.

Chatham House has maintained a good working relationship with its sister institutes. In 2005 a special edition of International Affairs was launched at NIIA, the first time in the journal’s history it was launched outside the UK. And SAIIA staff and leaders are regular contributors to Chatham House events and research, including a partnership on the study of Central and Eastern European relations with Africa.

The Africa Programme

Created in 2002. this was the first time Chatham House had a dedicated research team working on Africa, producing a sustained and balanced assessment of events on the continent. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, work on Africa had been conducted by regionally-focused study groups, and the personal interests of the director for studies, Dr Jack Spence – a leading authority on South African foreign policy. An earlier attempt to create a more formal programme in the late 1990s fell victim to staff turnover.

In 1998, the British Angola Forum (BAF) was formed and found a home at Chatham House. It marked a departure from the institute’s focus on post-colonial 'Anglophone Africa'. At the end of Angola's civil war in 2002, under the leadership of Dr Alex Vines, the BAF morphed into a continent-wide programme.

Since then, the Africa Programme has produced more than 160 original research publications, and organizes between 120-140 events on Africa every year. The Africa Programme is marking the centenary of the institute with a major research theme on Foreign Relations and African Agency in International Relations.

Chatham House’s work on Africa has its roots in the liberal imperialism of the post war leaders. But throughout the last 100 years, it has been a platform for progress, playing a vital role in informing policymakers and facilitating debate on African affairs, as well as highlighting African perspectives on global issues.

The exhibition on the History of Africa at Chatham House was first displayed at the world-renowned fine art auctioneers and valuers Bonham’s in London for a reception in February 2020 marking the centenary of the Institute. It was curated by Christopher Vandome with the assistance of the Chatham House Library, and digitized with the help of the Institute’s communications department. Please contact the Library team for further information regarding the archive.

Chatham House Centenary:
Throughout our centenary year in 2020, Chatham House marks a century of influence, independent analysis and trusted dialogue with a number of exciting initiatives. Throughout the year, we explore key political moments from the institute's history and reflect on how Chatham House and other think-tanks should approach the future.

When the resolution was passed by World Health Organization (WHO) member states at the World Health Assembly (WHA) in May requesting an evaluation ‘at the earliest appropriate moment’ of lessons learned from the WHO-coordinated international health response to COVID-19, it was generally thought the appropriate moment would be when the pandemic was on the wane.

Yet the Independent Panel for Pandemic Preparedness and Response has actually been established at a time when - as noted by WHO director-general Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus in his announcement of the panel - the pandemic is still accelerating.

In most of the world the virus is not under control, and cases have actually doubled in the last six weeks. So why now?

Emphasis on global solidarity

Throughout the pandemic so far, Dr Tedros has emphasised two main points – the need for urgent action by countries, and the imperative need for global solidarity. In announcing the panel, he said this is the ‘defining crisis of our age’ and that ‘we cannot defeat this pandemic as a divided world … the COVID-19 pandemic is a test of global solidarity and global leadership’.

He may well see establishing the panel now - when the pandemic still has a long way to run - as an opportunity to reinforce messages which have hitherto seemed to fall on deaf ears, notably saying ‘we are in the midst of the battle of our lives, and we have to do better’. And he has also said that we should learn lessons now that will be useful in the continuing fight against the pandemic.

Establishing both the membership of the panel and its terms of reference has been left largely in the hands of the co-chairs – distinguished ex-politicians Helen Clark of New Zealand and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia. But they will have to construct the panel in close consultation with member states on the basis of their proposals for membership – a process that will likely be fraught by the divisive politics which have already so upset Dr Tedros.

In addition, embedded in the mandate from the WHA resolution is the phrase ‘WHO-coordinated international health response’ – negotiated language which is intentionally ambiguous and reveals an unresolved tension.

Does it mean the panel should principally focus on WHO’s performance, which is what several countries – including the US – want to see? Or should it give at least equal weight to the way countries have responded individually and collectively, as Dr Tedros and the WHO may want to see?

These different interpretations mean both the construction of the panel and its terms of reference could be highly contentious. Most countries, including China and the US but also others, will not want their responses to be subjected to independent investigation. Nor will they want to include panel members likely to be critical of their responses. This suggests the possibility that there will be political pressure to focus the enquiry principally on the performance of WHO rather than that of countries – an outcome Dr Tedros would not welcome.

It remains to be seen how the co-chairs will manage these highly political issues, and avoid the panel becoming an extension of ‘pandemic politics’ by other means. Can it come to definitive conclusions in the midst of a pandemic and, if so, how likely are they to be heeded?

It is also highly likely that several other reviews will be launched, wholly independently of oversight by WHO and its member states, as happened following the 2014 Ebola outbreak. This provides opportunities for a variety of perspectives on both the performance of WHO, and of individual countries.

Already, The Lancet has announced its own Commission on COVID-19 with a broad mandate covering both the health and economic responses to the pandemic. Both this and the Independent Panel for Pandemic Preparedness and Response are likely to be only the first of many COVID-19 reviews.

The World Bank estimates that the magnitude of internal migration is about two‐and‐a‐half times that of international migration. Within India, an estimated 40 million internal migrant workers, largely in the informal economy, were severely impacted by the government’s COVID-19 lockdown.

With transportation systems initially shut down, many had no recourse to travel options back to homes and villages, resulting in harrowing journeys home. Those who were able to make it home found, in some instances, villages refusing entry because of fears of transmission.

The shocking images of migrants forced to walk in desperation showed the enormity of the crisis as well as some of the challenges posed by an extended lockdown in India where so many people live hand to mouth and cannot afford not to work.

Migrant workers and the informal economy

The complete failure of the government to anticipate the needs of this group, and the subsequent distress caused, has made visible a large workforce who experience precarity of work and often live hand to mouth.

One key challenge is the lack of robust data on the scale of internal migration. While estimates abound, there is no proper data collection system in place to accurately record temporary, seasonal and circular migration patterns. However, it is estimated that more than 90% of working people in India are engaged in the informal economy, with states such as Uttar Pradesh and Bihar accounting for more than 80% of workers in this sector.

A recent government labour force survey estimated that more than 71% of people with a regular salary working in non-agricultural industries had no written job contract. Nearly half of workers are not eligible for social security benefits.

Daily-wage workers are particularly vulnerable, with limited or no access to social security and most living in poverty. Living hand to mouth, their loss of livelihoods has led to a lack of money to pay rents or pay for food. Women are impacted whether because of their gender, responsibilities as caregivers, or as members of disadvantaged castes and communities.

COVID-19 has massively impacted this group of workers. Stranded Workers Action Network found that 50% of workers had rations left for less than one day; 74% had less than half their daily wages remaining to survive for the rest of the lockdown period; and 89% had not been paid by their employers at all during the lockdown.

According to Supreme Court proceedings, relief camps are housing some 660,000 workers; some 2.2 million people also rely on emergency food supplies. Job losses, and home and food insecurity have left this group highly vulnerable.

In March 2020, in response to COVID-19, the Indian government instituted the Pradhan Mantri Garib Kalyan Package (PMGKB), a $22.6 billion relief package. The World Bank announced $1 billion funding to accelerate social protection support, in part through the PMGKB.

This support would work alongside pre-existing initiatives such as the Public Distribution System (PDS), which covers 800 million people, and Direct Benefit Transfers (DBT). This cash injection could help address one of the key challenges facing India’s piecemeal and uneven social protection programmes – inadequate funding. India’s spending on public social protection excluding health is just 1.3% of the GDP.

However, there are still other challenges to overcome. One is how to ensure coordination and coverage within, and across, differing states. The second is how to transition multiple schemes into one integrated system that can be accessed anywhere within the country, particularly important when many workers are on the move. There is an urgent need for a comprehensive system, which is adaptive and flexible to needs and provides adequate social and income support.

Another coverage issue relates to the use of direct cash transfers (DCTs) to support people impacted by the loss of livelihoods, where funds are deposited within bank accounts. Such measures fail to consider the significant numbers of people who do not have access to banks and will not be able to access this support.

Wider impact on livelihoods and remittances

​There is a risk, with extended lockdown and risks of further waves of infection, that labour shortages could negatively impact the economy. There is a wider need to support re-entry back into the workforce and support livelihoods. National Survey Sample data shows that between 2007 and 2008, internal remittances amounted to US$10 billion. These domestic transfers financed over 30% of all household consumption in remittance-receiving households.

But future migration for work is likely to be severely impacted. As restrictions begin to ease, employers and businesses cannot necessarily rely on cheap available labour. Having faced destitution and hardship, many may wish to stay closer to families and local support networks.

As Irudaya Rajan notes in The New Humanitarian, it is likely ‘there will be a reduction in long-distance migration in India after this’, as many migrants will be wary of being stranded again. This would be hugely detrimental to stimulating the economy as reverse migration could push down wages and subsequently demand.

Another issue may be returning migrant workers, who have been working overseas, over half of whom work in the Gulf. It is unclear if, or when, migrants will be able to return to work, with the World Bank estimating that remittances from this group could fall by about 23%.

However, what is striking has been India’s support for this group - the Vande Bharat Mission has deployed flights and naval ships to help return migrant workers, especially vulnerable groups - in marked contrast to the lack of preparation and care for internal migrants.

One factor for this may be the volume of remittances these migrant workers bring to the Indian economy, but it overlooks the contribution of internal remittances, on which there is far less robust data.

But the current challenges can also be an opportunity. The scale of the migrant crisis has made visible an often-overlooked population of workers. With political will, and investment at federal and state levels, this could be an opportunity to transform livelihoods.

As thoughts will turn to how to stimulate economies and get people back to work, it is imperative that those in authority turn their minds to how to create a more just society, that invests in healthcare, and has a social protection system that supports the most vulnerable in society.

Migrants are not just objects of charity that need support. Internal migrants are key income generators that play a vital role in Indian society and should never be overlooked again.

This article was originally published in Routed Magazine.

Observers of the Israel-Palestine conflict have been anticipating Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu’s, announcement to annex parts of the West Bank. It has been a tumultuous year for Israeli politics which has seen three inconclusive elections and resulted in a sharing of power between Netanyahu and Benny Gantz of the Blue and White party. However, since the coalition government was sworn in, Netanyahu has appeared to not lose any time in moving forward with his plans.

Annexation has long been Netanyahu’s political aspiration and was part of his recent re-election platform but the anticipated announcement from the Israeli government didn’t come straight away. The determining factor in the delay was the inability to reach an agreement with Washington about the scope of the annexation while divisions within the Israeli government itself, in addition to international condemnation from the region and beyond, has also played a part.

Discussions around annexation have so far yielded one major outcome: it has introduced a different rhetoric by the Trump-Netanyahu axis even though things on the ground don’t necessarily follow. Ever since President Donald Trump took office in 2016, there has been a marked change in Washington’s language around the Israel-Palestine conflict. It has shifted towards legitimizing Israel’s expansionist ambitions in the West Bank while marginalizing, and considerably weakening, the Palestinian Authority (PA) through a series of punitive measures.

This has further damaged relations between Israel and Palestine and has resulted in a fundamental change in the public discourse around the conflict, from emphasizing a just solution based on self-determination for both sides, to focusing on a de-facto one-state solution.

But how has the discourse shifted so dramatically in less than four years? First came the announcement of the US embassy move to Jerusalem, and with it, recognition of the city as Israel’s capital. In his statement, President Trump avoided recognizing Palestinian claims over Jerusalem and did not acknowledge their historical connection with the city. When the PA rejected the move, the US administration then retaliated by cutting aid and development funding and closing the PLO mission in Washington stating: ‘We have permitted the PLO office to conduct operations that support the objective of achieving a lasting...peace between Israelis and the Palestinians … However, the PLO has not taken steps to advance the start of...meaningful negotiations with Israel.’

On the question of Israel’s settlements in the West Bank, the current US administration has shied away from calling them ‘illegal’ despite being deemed illegitimate under international law and condemned on numerous occasions by the UN Security Council, the UN General Assembly, the EU, the Arab League and the Palestinians themselves. US Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, has even gone as far as saying that the establishment of Israeli settlements in the West Bank is not inconsistent with international law.

The culmination of US discourse in recent months has been the unveiling of the ‘Peace to Prosperity’ plan. The language of the proposal, once again, has shown partiality towards Israel by not mentioning the illegality of Israel’s occupation of the West Bank, or that of settlements, and entirely ignoring previous Palestinian positions or acknowledging their sensitivities. There is little doubt that the current US administration understands the power of rhetoric and has been using it to change the trajectory of discussions away from a two-state solution towards an outcome that would only serve Israeli interests.

Indeed, US rhetoric has empowered Netanyahu immensely too, ushering in a new reality that has rendered a Palestinian state nothing more than a hypothetical option. The language, combined with a multitude of unilateral actions, is helping to dismantle any efforts towards a two-state solution and the upholding of previous international agreements.

Many European and regional governments have condemned any move towards annexation. Indeed, 1,000 European parliamentarians from across political lines have urged Israel to abandon its plans. This has notably included, German Foreign Minister, Heiko Mass, whose first overseas visit during the coronavirus crisis was to Israel to reinforce Germany’s position against unilateral action.

But actions speak louder than words, and in the case of the US, its rhetoric has been matched by action unlike its EU counterparts whose statements of condemnation have rarely been followed by concrete action. For instance, the EU ratified a landmark aviation agreement with Israel just days before 1 July and economic, technological and scientific cooperation between Israel and Europe has never been stronger casting doubt on the strength of political will among EU countries to take action against Israel.

In the Middle East, the United Arab Emirates has been the most vociferous in disapproving Israel’s annexation plans. However, again, it is important to look beyond the rhetoric. Cooperation between the UAE and Israel has in fact increased in recent years mainly due to common opposition to Iran’s regional influence but also due to shared interests. In May, for instance, the first publicly acknowledged commercial flight between the UAE and Israel landed at Ben Gurion airport carrying aid aimed at mitigating the effects of COVID-19 in the Palestinian territories. But, to many, it looked like a stepping-stone towards a normalization of relations between Abu Dhabi and Jerusalem.

Similarly, Jordan and Egypt have also expressed their concern but it is difficult to imagine a scenario where either country would go as far as abrogating peace agreements that they currently have in place with Israel.

In spite of this, the global response has overwhelmingly been critical of Israel’s plans to annex parts of the West Bank. This has demonstrated some level of unity among world leaders which has not been seen for some time and may have played a significant role in delaying the Israeli government’s plans. In parallel, united international condemnation has also prevented the US from dominating the Israeli-Palestinian conflict entirely.

While the US approach has played a key role in the Israel-Palestine conflict so far, it remains to be seen how the international community will translate its voice into action to prevent the annexation of occupied Palestinian land.

Flaring is a significant source of economic and environmental waste. Except when safety-related, flared gas can often be captured and monetised using low-cost proven solutions.

In doing so, governments can improve health and safety, reduce emissions (of carbon dioxide, methane, and particulates) and add value by driving up revenue, increasing reserves and production, creating jobs and improving the industry’s ‘social license to operate’.

Flare capture also helps countries to deliver on the Paris Agreement and the UN’s Sustainable Development Goal #13 while, for example, providing affordable alternatives for heating and cooking.

The Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region accounts for 40% of the world’s flaring. In the region, flaring has increased year-on-year - apart from 2018 - to almost six billion cubic feet of gas per day, generating up to 300-500 million tonnes of CO2-equivalent emissions per year.

These emissions result not only from the combustion of gas, but also from the venting, from inefficient flares, of un-combusted methane, a more potent greenhouse gas. Yet much of this is avoidable.

There are many commercially attractive options to reduce flaring in MENA. The key is to use the right proven technology and to be agile in commercial structuring. And the prize could be a boost to MENA’s annual revenues by up to $200 per second (up to $6.4 billion per year) by delivering wasted gas to market by pipeline, as power or in liquid form.

The chart highlights the abundance of flaring across the MENA region, and in many cases, their proximity to population centres. While Iran, Iraq, and Algeria generate 75% of MENA’s flaring, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, UAE and Qatar are notable for their relatively low ‘flaring intensity’ i.e. flaring normalized to oil production.

In today’s world of lower energy prices, it makes sense to monetise every molecule. Even more so for national oil companies, which are responsible for most of the flaring, since they are not only the custodians of their countries’ natural resources, but they also generate a dominant source of government revenue.

Most oil producers in MENA have already made commitments to the World Bank’s flaring-reduction initiatives (e.g. ‘Zero Routine Flaring by 2030’), but to date, delivery is mostly lacking. Three main issues have hindered progress.

Firstly, operators, regulators, and governments highlight that flaring is often not ‘sufficiently on the radar’. Flaring is often underreported if not ignored or denied - although satellite detection gives unavoidable transparency. In MENA alone, more than 1,700 flare clusters are visible every day from space.

Secondly, flare capture is sometimes not perceived to be economically viable due to costs, taxes, or inappropriate technology. Thirdly, there are often issues around resources, especially concerning management bandwidth, delivery capabilities or financing.

Yet these issues can be solved if the right proven technologies are combined with the right commercial structures. To accelerate flare capture projects, stakeholders in the MENA hydrocarbons sector must consider several complementary, action-oriented initiatives.

In particular, they should:

• Promote transparency and disclosure to drive greater awareness of flaring. Governments, regulators and operators must understand the real scale of their gas flaring opportunity and be capable of acting, as a recent report for the EBRD on Egypt highlighted. Compliance with clear standards for measuring, monitoring and verification is critical.
• Advance policies and incentives which encourage action. Better commercial terms will incentivise and accelerate flare investments. Stronger penalties will help, but independent and capable regulators must actually enforce these penalties. Through the use of such clear anti-flaring policies, Norway’s flaring intensity is almost 20 times lower than the MENA region.
• Improve the investment climate, beyond economics and open access to a broader range of players. Local market failures can be avoided by reducing the complexity and cost of in-country operations and by removing excessive, rigid, or redundant regulations. By enabling greater ‘third-party’ access to gas and power projects and infrastructure, new players can accelerate change by deploying new technologies and new operating models. Better third-party access will also unlock ideas, capital, skills and project-specific financing options. Algeria is making steps towards such liberalisation through its new 2019 Hydrocarbon Law.
• Reduce subsidies and improve energy efficiency and reduce demand, increase gas exports and boost national revenues. Countries with large subsidies on transport fuels and power, such as Algeria and Iraq, stand to gain the most.
• Encourage collaboration between stakeholders in industry and government by creating working groups to radiate best practices, build capacity, deploy technology and local content, such as the flare minimization programme in Saudi Arabia or Iraq’s major flare-to-power project operated by the Basrah Gas Company.

The industry needs to prepare for a greener world after COVID-19 and investors and consumers are demanding cleaner fuels. Since gas is widely viewed as a transition fuel, MENA governments and stakeholders must work to eliminate its wastage and seize the revenue, production and environmental opportunities that flare capture projects offer.

There is much new leadership in the region in government and critical institutions with new mandates for change. The time to act is now.

Russia is one of the few countries in the region to have no legal definition of domestic violence and, as a result, there are no protective measures specific to domestic violence such as restraining orders or compulsory anger management training for abusers. In fact, the government has taken steps in recent years to remove any legal distinction between assault happening in one’s home, and elsewhere, with battery among family or household members for first-time offences decriminalized in 2017.

The Russian Ministry of Justice explicitly defended this position in its response to an enquiry into Russian domestic violence cases by the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) in November 2019. The ministry claimed existing legislation adequately protects citizens from domestic violence, ‘even though it has never been considered a separate offence’, reiterating that there is ‘no need’ for adopting specific legislation.

However, the four cases that led to the ECtHR’s enquiry demonstrate that current legislation is not sufficient. The most prominent case is that of Margarita Gracheva whose ex-husband severed her hands in 2017 despite her having made multiple complaints to the police ahead of the act being committed. If Russian legislation had mechanisms in place to isolate victims from their abusers, then Gracheva could have been protected by the law.

Instead, systemic impunity for abusers is supported by statements from people in power excusing domestic violence. The most recent of such statements came from the head of the Chechen Republic, Ramzan Kadyrov, in June 2020. When meeting with the family of a young woman allegedly murdered by her husband, Chechnya’s leader said, husbands beating their wives ‘happens’ and that the young woman should have tried harder to hold on to her marriage. These statements send clear signals to abusers that their actions are justified, and to the victims, that they won’t be protected if they were to come forward.

Similarly, to other parts of the world, civil society organizations in Russia have reported an increase in the number of cases of domestic violence during the COVID-19 pandemic. On a personal level, the pandemic has often exacerbated many of the factors that can lead to domestic violence such as stress, economic anxiety or social isolation.

On a systemic level, many of the provisions intended to protect victims of violence, which were already ineffective in Russia, have been worsened during the lockdown. Where police may not have rapidly responded to reports of domestic violence previously, under lockdown, they have become focused on  other priorities and, where shelters and support networks for the victims may have been scarce in the past, they have been further constrained.

Unsurprisingly, the strategy of the Russian state so far has been to deny that there is a problem of domestic violence, with the Ministry of Interior reporting that, according to their statistics, the number of domestic violence cases have gone down during the lockdown. Indeed, Chairwoman of the Federation Council, Valentina Matvienko, has said she does not believe lockdown has increased domestic violence because, on the contrary, families have been  ‘brought together’, reflecting wishful thinking at best and negligence at worst.

The pandemic has also been used as an excuse to postpone discussion of a federal law on domestic violence, drafted by civil society, that was submitted for review by the Duma last year. This bill would have introduced different types of domestic violence such as psychological and economic violence and transferred domestic violence offences from private to public prosecutions to make it easier for victims to seek justice.

The government’s disregard for domestic violence reflects, in part, the patriarchal mindsets of those in power but perhaps, more significantly, the Kremlin’s belief that conservative social groups constitute its main support base. This has been made evident by the politicization of Russia’s ‘traditional’ values in recent years which was vigorously deployed throughout the constitutional amendments campaign. While it is clear that the true purpose of amending the constitution has always been to allow Vladimir Putin to stay in power beyond 2024, amendments relating to this were absent from the government’s campaign. Instead, Russians were encouraged to vote by populist socially-conservative messages, hence why respect for traditional values has been added to the constitution.

Despite this, attitudes in Russian society are changing. A February 2020 survey by the Levada Centre showed that 61 per cent of Russians – and 74 per cent of Russian women – think domestic violence is a serious problem.

Moreover, the survey shows that women are much more aware of domestic violence than men – with every third woman in Russia admits being aware of domestic violence in their social circles while only every fifth man admits the same. This could be a sign that Russian men and women, on average, have a different understanding of what constitutes domestic violence. If so, adopting a law that defines domestic violence and holding a public awareness campaign is of paramount importance to eliminate any misunderstanding.

The difference could also be a sign that victims of domestic violence are more likely to confide in women hence making domestic violence less visible to men. This awareness gap perhaps explains the difference between men’s and women’s assessments of how serious the issue in Russia is.

The pandemic has provoked a new wave of discussions of domestic violence among Russia’s population with stories and statistics widely shared in the media and on the internet. As domestic violence becomes more visible, public perceptions are likely to shift further towards recognizing, and hopefully condemning, it. But, while legislation is crucial, the experience of other countries in the region, such as Armenia or Kazakhstan, shows that adopting laws on domestic violence is not enough. Measures are needed to ensure implementation of the law including training police officers and state officials and instituting disciplinary action for negligence of victims’ complaints.

Nevertheless, admitting there is a problem with domestic violence in Russia, and introducing laws, are an essential first step. The Russian government seems to have placed its bet on the support of conservative social groups but changing public opinion may prove this strategy unsustainable.

The virus of violence

During quarantine, the greater economic vulnerability of Ukrainian women has locked many of them with abusive partners. The uncertainty of personal finances, health and security in confinement has exacerbated domestic violence against women, in certain cases aggravated by the perpetrator’s war-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

In pre- pandemic times, only one third of domestic violence victims, 78% of whom are women, reported the abuse. During the pandemic, the calls to domestic violence helplines increased by 50% in the Donbas war zone and by 35% in other regions of Ukraine.

However, more precise estimates are hard to make. This is largely because some fractions of Ukrainian society still see domestic violence as a private family matter, which will get little assistance from the police. Also, reporting from a small confinement place permanently shared with a perpetrator during the lockdown can trigger more abuse.

The COVID-19-tested legal framework

The spike in domestic violence during lockdown has intensified the debate about the inadequacy of Ukraine’s approach.

Ukraine adopted the law on domestic violence in 2017 and made such behaviour punishable under administrative and criminal law. Importantly, the law does not limit domestic violence to physical abuse, but recognizes its sexual, psychological and economic variations. Domestic violence is further not limited to a married couple or close family members, but can be perpetrated against a distant relative or a cohabiting partner.

The extended definition of rape now includes rape of a spouse or a family member as an aggravating circumstance. A special police unit has been designated to deal with domestic abuse cases. Police can now issue protection orders in prompt reaction to an offence and immediately distance a perpetrator from a victim.

The victim can also spend time in a shelter - a system which the Ukrainian government has promised to create. A special registry of domestic violence cases has been set up for the exclusive use by the designated law enforcement and social security authorities to help them be more holistically informed in building a response.

However important, the introduced legal and institutional infrastructure was slow in proving its efficiency pre-COVID-19. It is struggling even more to stand the test of the coronavirus.

Changing the established mindset takes time. 38% of Ukraine’s judges and 39% of prosecutors still struggle to see domestic violence not as a household issue. Even though the police are becoming more reactive to home abuse complaints, getting emergency protection orders is still difficult. The court restraining orders are more effective, however they require the unnecessarily protracted and humiliating procedures of proving one’s own victimhood to different state authorities.

In response to the challenges of coronavirus for women, the police spread information posters and created a special chat-bot about the available help. However, while the domestic violence helplines of La Strada and other human rights NGOs are busier than ever, the police statistics suggest that the lockdown has not catalyzed home abuse.

This could indicate a higher trust to non-state institutions and the inability of a considerable group of women to use more sophisticated communication means such as chat-bots when they cannot call the police in the presence of an abuser. This problem is exacerbated by a current  lack of shelters in rural areas, as most are located in urban settings. Overcrowded in ordinary times, the shelters’ capacity to accept survivors during the lockdown is further limited by the social distancing rules.

Istanbul Convention – The bigger picture

Ukraine failed to ratify the Council of Europe Convention on preventing and combating violence against women, better known as the Istanbul Convention, largely due to the opposition of religious organizations. Concerned that the treaty’s terms ‘gender’ and ‘sexual orientation’ would contribute to the promotion of same-sex relationships in Ukraine, they argued that Ukraine’s current legislation provides adequate protection against domestic violence. However, this is not the case.

The Istanbul Convention does not ‘promote’ same-sex relationships, it only mentions sexual orientation among the non-exhaustive list of prohibited discrimination grounds. Remarkably, Ukraine’s domestic violence law itself is against such discrimination.

The Convention defines ‘gender’ as the socially constructed roles a society attributes to women and men. Ukraine’s overcautiousness about the term is ironic at least in two dimensions.

First, the 2017 domestic violence law restates its aim to eliminate discriminating beliefs about the social roles of each ‘sex’. In doing so, the law supports the rationale of what the Istanbul Convention denotes as ‘gender’ without using the term itself.

Second,  it is exactly the constraints of the rigidly defined niches for both sexes in Ukraine that have substantially contributed to the intensified domestic violence, whether it be  war or  coronavirus-related. The lack of sustainable psychological support for traumatized veterans and the stigma of mental health struggles, especially among men, mars their reintegration to peaceful life. This often results in alcohol abuse or even suicide.

As the economic uncertainty of the war and the virus prevents some men from fully living up to their traditional socially - and self-imposed - breadwinner role, this increases the risk of problematic behaviour and domestic violence.

By diverting the focus of the debate  to the term ‘gender’ used in the Istanbul Convention, conservative groups have ignored the fact that it describes the priority already enshrined in Ukraine’s 2017 law - to eliminate discriminatory beliefs about the socially constructed roles of men and women. This has drawn away time and resources needed to protect those vulnerable to domestic abuse.

Ukraine has not addressed the pigeonholing of women and men into gendered stereotypes. This has harmed men while further victimizing women and children, especially during the lockdown. Ironically, this is leading to the undermining of the very traditional family values certain opponents of the Istanbul Convention appealed to.

Fortunately, Ukraine’s ever-vigilant civil society,  dismayed at the wave of the lockdown domestic violence, petitioned President Zelenskyy to ratify the Convention. With a new draft law on ratification, the ball is now in the parliament’s court. It remains to be seen whether Ukraine’s policymakers will be up to the task.            

The UK has been redeploying diplomatic, defence and development capabilities towards the Sahel since 2018 – a strategic pivot intended to deliver development impact, address long term security threats to UK interests and support alliances with international partners.

The Sahel is one of Africa’s poorest and most fragile regions and has witnessed an escalation in jihadist activity, illegal migration and trafficking since a security crisis erupted in Mali in 2012.

The crisis spread to Niger and Burkina Faso and may now spill over into Côte d’Ivoire, Ghana and Senegal. With Nigeria also facing insurgency in the Lake Chad basin, all major regional security and economic anchors in the region are under threat including key UK partners. 

Reviewing the Sahel pivot

This pivot has already resulted in the expanding of UK embassies in Senegal, Mauritania and Mali and public commitments to opening new ones in Chad and Niger.

Back in London, there has also been a large uplift of staff including the setting up of a cross-Whitehall Joint Sahel Department in late 2018 and plans for more UK civil servants to have placements with the French government on the Sahel.

Yet in light of looming economic shocks from Brexit and Covid-19, there has been a lively debate in Whitehall on whether this is stretching UK resources too thin in an area of Africa that does not have close ties with the UK.

UK ministers are this week reviewing the Sahel pivot and will decide if it continues or grinds to a standstill including whether full embassies are opened in Niger and Chad.

This debate is not new. The UK has opened and closed its diplomatic missions in the Sahel in fits and starts since the early 1960s. More recently, MI6 pushed the re-opening of the embassy in Bamako in 2010 foreseeing Mali’s fragility before the current crisis started.

Partnering with the French

But though the Sahel is likely to dominate the Africa peace and security agenda for decades to come, the UK’s serious engagement in the region is not just about strategic foresight.

It also fulfils two other objectives: of partnership with two key bilateral allies, particularly France, and authority and leverage in multilateral fora such as the United Nations, African Union and the EU.

Partnering with the French in the Sahel has become even more important due to Brexit and the need to reinforce relationships with key European partners.

In 2012, David Cameron concluded that the rapid French response to stop a jihadist advance on the Malian capital Bamako was 'in our interests' and authorized the deployment of 330 UK military personnel, two cargo aircraft and a surveillance plane.

In July 2018, the UK announced further support to French led Opération Barkhane sending three Royal Air Force Chinook helicopters – supported by almost 100 personnel – which remain in theatre to this day.

UN commitment

Demonstrating the UK’s commitment to UN peacekeeping has also resulted in the deployment of 250 troops to join a UN peacekeeping mission to Mali later this year.

Based in Gao, these troops will form a long-range reconnaissance capability providing threat awareness, contributing to the protection of civilians and helping to prevent conflict from spilling over to neighbouring states.

This represents one of the biggest British peacekeeping deployments since Bosnia and it will be the most dangerous mission for British forces since Afghanistan.

The UK is also one of the largest humanitarian donors to the region and has contributed over £500 million in bilateral development and humanitarian assistance since 2015.

With COVID-19 now an additional challenge in the Sahel, a significant part of the UK’s £764 million contribution to the global COVID-19 effort will be channelled to the region.

New embassies are 'global Britain' strategy pillars

Keeping an eye on the impact of these initiatives requires a meaningful UK diplomatic network on the ground.

New embassies in the Sahel cost a fraction of maintaining three Chinook helicopters in the region providing the government real time insight in the post-Brexit absence of a regular supply of country analysis from the European External Action Service and support for the UK’s international relationships.

It also underlines the UK’s commitment to UN peacekeeping and standing as a permanent member of the UN Security Council in light of regular discussions of the Sahel.

The tripartite ministerial review of the Sahel pivot by the secretaries of state for foreign affairs, international development and defence that is underway should not penny pinch by reversing the opening of small embassies in Niger and Chad nor threaten the overall strategic focus on the Sahel – most recently welcomed by the House of Lord’s Select Committee on International Relations and Defence in its July report on UK Africa policy.

Instead, UK ministers should focus on better defining what the UK’s specific objectives are in the Sahel and particularly what the UK plans to do about Burkina Faso whose rapidly deteriorating security threatens to over-spill into key UK partner Ghana.

This article was first published in the Daily Telegraph.

Days before the publication of last week’s report into Russian activity in the UK, and the subsequent call from several UK parliamentarians for a swift response to the ‘Russian threat’, Russia tested a new anti-satellite weapon capability releasing a small projectile from its Kosmos-2543 sub-satellite.

Kosmos-2543, a small satellite contained inside a larger satellite, Kosmos-2542, and 'birthed’ into orbit in late 2019, recently came under scrutiny in January 2020 when it was reportedly caught ‘buzzing’ US spy satellites in Low Earth Orbit.

By releasing a small projectile from the Kosmos-2543 sub-satellite, the US claims that Russia has launched a new projectile into orbit with relatively high speed – estimated at around 500 km per hour – leading to concerns about the potential of Russia to develop this technology as a weapon to target foreign satellites.

It is not the first time Moscow has relied on a Russian doll – or matryoshka – approach to launching satellites into outer space. In October 2017, a sub-satellite, Kosmos-2521, was ejected from its main satellite, Kosmos-2519, into a high-speed object in low orbit.

The Russian Ministry of Defence has declared that its latest activity is just for ‘routine’ inspections and surveillance of Russia’s other space assets, with the government’s official statement avoiding recognizing the existence of the new object while, at the same time, Kremlin spokesperson, Dmitry Peskov, recalling Russia’s commitment for the ‘complete demilitarization’ of space.

While it is possible that Russia’s matryoshka satellites have indeed been developed to carry out routine repairs of Russia’s space fleet, they also have the potential to interfere with, and destroy, other satellites with such action needing to be considered a threat until Russia demonstrates otherwise.

Russia’s use of outer space

Russia is not the only state investigating anti-satellite weaponry capabilities. There is a wider trend (e.g. China, India, US) to demonstrate advanced space capabilities with nefarious, if not directly offensive, intent. But, for the past few years, Russia in particular, has been provocative in testing its space weapon capabilities. 

For example, in April 2020, Russia launched and tested into low orbit the PL-19 Nudol direct-ascent anti-satellite (DA-ASAT) interceptor missile system from the Plesetsk Cosmodrome demonstrating its space assets with potential offensive capabilities, in particular, Russia’s capacity to destroy satellites in Low Earth Orbit.

In addition, the satellites, Kosmos-2535 and Kosmos-2536, launched in July 2019, are also suspected to be operating beyond their official mission of studying Russian orbital assets. It is reported that these satellites conducted a close proximity activity, coming within one kilometre from each other, which led to the creation of orbital debris.

Russia’s space strategy

By exploiting asymmetric advantages in space, Russia seeks to leverage its capabilities against competitors in space and in other domains, falling in line with its wider military strategy as well as its current Federal Space Programme for 2016 to 2025.

Russian space activities also have a cyber and electronic warfare angle. With the help of remote-sensing capabilities, Russian spy satellites potentially seek to disrupt military and civilian satellite communications and navigation systems. Indeed, in 2018, French authorities publicly accused Russia of seeking to intercept communication satellites for French and Italian armed forces putting data transmission through Western civilian and military satellites at risk of interception.

Furthermore, earlier this year, both Kosmos-2542 and 2543 came within 160 kilometres of a US spy satellite, US KH-11, similarly to Russia ‘buzzing’ around the British Isles or submarine surveillance that Norway and Sweden have been subjected to recently.

Shadowing and tailing in space is regarded as spying and this recent anti-satellite weapon test is part of a trend which demonstrates Russia’s persistent space strategy for close-proximity operations with foreign countries.

Orbital hypocrisy

Despite Russia’s calls for a treaty to prevent the placement of weapons in outer space, there remains little international trust in Russia’s behaviour in space so far with a US-Russia Space Security Exchange meeting scheduled to take place in Vienna on 27 July to discuss outer space stability and security.

This is amid a backdrop of bilateral nuclear arms control talks on the extension of the extant nuclear weapons reduction treaty, New START, which is scheduled to expire in February 2021. There is no guarantee, however, that the talks will achieve anything especially since the future of outer space requires a wider multilateral dialogue with all parties involved – including China.

Anti-satellite tests (ASATs) are a particularly dangerous form of weapon. Not only do they create major vulnerabilities in a domain where so much of humanity depends on for navigation, communications and environmental monitoring, they are also primarily a target for destabilization and undermining global positioning information in times of crisis.

And, perhaps most significantly, they possess the highly destructive potential to create even more space debris in Earth’s orbits that endanger the peaceful use of satellites and could do serious damage to large parts of the economies of developed and developing countries.

Avoiding space warfare

Space is for all but there is a risk that it is being hijacked by a few. It is time to re-assert and reinforce the rules, principles and norms of responsible state behaviour in outer space enshrined in the 1967 Outer Space Treaty and its associated international agreements.

And, because the treaty specifically prohibits stationing nuclear weapons and other weapons of mass destruction in orbit or on celestial bodies, it is necessary to build on it to ban other types of weapons in space.

Space has been militarized since 1957 with the launch of Soviet satellite Sputnik. But the increasing weaponization of space adds more uncertainty, and unveils more vulnerabilities, that states need to address before space warfare becomes a reality.

Gon Coulibaly, an economic technocrat and Ouattara loyalist since the 1990s, was earmarked in March as the candidate for the ruling Rassemblement des Houphouëtistes pour la Démocratie et la Paix (RHDP) party in the elections due in October, and represented a handpicked heir, trusted to sustain the strategy established during Ouattara’s nine years in power.

Many RDHP parliamentarians and local mayors are now pressing the 78-year-old Ouattara to run again. This was not what he had planned. He hoped to go out on a high – ‘par la grande porte’ – and set a statesmanlike example of retirement by choice, making way for the next generation. His leadership of reform of the regional currency that will see the end of the West African CFA franc would have been the crowning achievement of a presidency that had taken his country from post-war stagnation to sustained growth GDP growth rates around seven per cent before COVID-19 forced a slowdown, as it has worldwide.

A profound strategic dilemma

Gon Coulibaly had undergone a heart transplant in 2012, and when he hurried to Paris in early May and was fitted with a stent, some wondered whether he would have the energy required for an election campaign. Yet he returned home on 2 July, with his formal nomination by the RHDP pencilled in for early the next month. His sudden death on 8 July, at the age of just 61, was a terrible personal blow for Ouattara, who had regarded him almost as a son, and much more than a purely political protégé. But it also left the president facing a profound strategic dilemma.

Names of alternative potential RHDP candidates have been floated – notably the defence minister, and now interim premier, Hamed Bakayoko and the secretary general of the presidency Patrick Achi. Both have solid electoral track records and ample experience of government. But over recent days the impression has grown that they do not command the ultimate confidence of Alassane Ouattara to take on the leadership of the nation.

Speculation has grown that the president will conclude that he has no choice but to go back on his promise to retire and stand for yet another term. Although some respected legal experts disagree, he has always made a point of insisting that the constitutional reform of 2016 allows him to run again. And many influential voices within the RHDP are now pressing him to do so.

This is not ‘rentacrowd’ fawning. Many members of the governing party have always felt that Ouattara offers the strongest blend of political appeal, governing capability and international profile required to lead a country that likes to see itself as West Africa’s ‘elephant’.

A weak opposition, but third term challenges

In electoral terms, Ouattara’s greatest campaign asset might be the unconvincing state of the opposition figures who are actually free to stand, after the Ivorian authorities’ strong-armed the judicial system into blocking the hopes of the of the smooth-talking former parliamentary speaker Guillame Soro, who had great appeal for Cote D’Ivoire’s growing young population. Soro is now exiled in France after conviction in absentia for corruption. Ex-president Laurent Gbagbo remains in Brussels, while the International Criminal Court considers the prosecution appeal against his acquittal on charges of human rights crimes. He is now allowed to travel and has applied for a passport to come home, but it is unclear if this will be granted. That leaves another former head of state, the 86-year old Henri Konan Bédié, as the main opposition challenger.

However, even if the RHDP party machine delivers victory for Ouattara, a third term risks hard questions from those who dispute its legitimacy and it may generate other significant political challenges too. Some 60 per cent of Ivorians are under the age of 25, and many young people are impatient for leaders more in tune with their concerns and outlook. Some 51 per cent now live in towns and cities.

The sprawling Abidjan conurbation, in particular, weighs heavily in the political culture and national mood. Street protest and urban frustrations are a real factor, and something that fuels vocal grassroots support for both the Soro and Gbagbo camps.

Moreover, despite the government’s capable management, the COVID-19 crisis has struck a severe economic and social blow that is sure to impose painful legacy pressures. Even when real GDP was rising by seven per cent per annum, increasingly evident inequality was brewing popular resentment. Corruption appeared to be on the rise, and the obvious prosperity, construction and consumption in parts of Abidjan were not reflected nationwide nor in all sections of society.

In the latter years of his second term, Ouattara recognized this and launched an ambitious programme to broaden the reach of development and nudge growth towards a more ‘inclusive’ model. But selling this as the core of an election agenda would be harder for a political veteran who has been in power since 2011 and who now went back on his rhetoric about making way for a younger generation.

A third term Ouattara would also face challenges internationally, and particularly in West Africa. He has always presented himself as a statesmanlike figure with restraint and respect for institutional values, setting a tone that has helped in the management of numerous regional crises – exemplified by his participation in a five-president mission to Bamako last week, an effort to broker a solution to Mali’s political and protest deadlock. If a third term run sparks mass domestic protest or accusations of constitutional manipulation, the diplomatic standing and influence so associated with Ouattara will be jeopardized.

So Côte d’Ivoire’s president faces profoundly awkward questions as he ponders the third term bid that he had forsworn less than five months ago. And yet he may well conclude that, from his political perspective, there is no viable alternative.

While we must wait for the final reckoning of most successful national coronavirus responses, it does still appear those countries with memories of MERS and SARS - such as Singapore, Taiwan, Hong-Kong, and South Korea – led the way in being best prepared for COVID-19, with strong contract tracing and isolation measures.

Experience of previous outbreaks informed the containment strategies adopted by countries in East Asia in response to COVID-19. Vietnam reported its first case of COVID-19 in January but, over the following four months with rapid targeted testing, contact tracing and successful containment, only around 300 additional cases with no deaths were confirmed.

These countries learned to be flexible fast when new transmissions occurred, establishing quick lockdown measures targeted at key groups such as Singapore’s schools or South Korea’s night clubs and religious centres. In stark contrast, most European countries were overwhelmed by the pandemic despite enjoying world-class health systems, predictive models, scientific expertise, wealth, and resources.

Asia may have suffered first from coronavirus, but there is no ‘first mover advantage’ in dealing with a pandemic. The more resilient a society, the better placed it is to cope with a variety of risks and challenges. But to become resilient, a society needs to have faced setbacks and learned from them. And to remain resilient, it needs to stay aware of its own vulnerabilities and avoid complacency.

Prior experience of crises and disturbances, coupled with a ‘trial and error’ process of learning to deal with them, makes a society more resilient, whereas high levels of economic welfare and relative lack of recent crises leave some societies less prepared to face shocks. This is known as the ‘vulnerability paradox’.

Within Europe, it has actually been the Greek handling of COVID-19 that so far appears more successful than others. Greece is a country which has suffered a decade of austerity leading to a weakened healthcare system. And with one of Europe’s oldest populations, the Greek government was keenly aware of its own vulnerabilities. This prompted an early lockdown and a rapid increase in intensive care beds.

Although better state capacity and health system capability are clearly positives for mitigating disasters, citizens do tend to be less familiar with risk preparedness. This lack of experience can then breed complacency which threatens societies where risks are often complex, numerous, transboundary and inter-related.

Conversely, the absence of systemic resilience at a national level often puts the onus on family units or local communities – creating resilience as a necessary response to weak government capacity. There is little choice but to learn to look after yourself and your community.

However, although the vulnerability paradox helps explain why prior experience makes a system more resilient, societies need to stay aware of their own vulnerabilities and avoid complacency if they are to continually remain resilient.

Complacency coupled with a belief in the virtues of the free market has left some countries hit harder than others by the pandemic. In normal times, ‘just in time’ business models can be highly efficient compared to holding vast stocks. But it does not require hindsight to know that a global health crisis will see demand for protective equipment soar and these business models severely challenged.

Several societies have also witnessed a decline in trust towards institutions, especially politicians or the media. The deployment of science as justification for political decisions around coronavirus was presumably intended to help garner trust in those decisions. But when the science itself is inexact because of inadequate or emerging knowledge, this strategy is hardly fail-safe.

COVID-19 does provide an opportunity to rebuild trust by rethinking the relationship between the state and its citizens, to engage people more directly in a discussion about societal resilience with empowered citizens, and to rebuild a social contract between state and society in the context of recent significant changes and further potential threats.

It should also provide a salutary wake-up call to a range of ‘strongmen’ leaders prone to portraying issues rather simplistically. Although COVID-19 may be one of the few complex problems to which simplistic measures do apply - such as wearing a mask and using social distancing – these do not provide the whole solution.

Generally, declining trust in politicians reflects the ongoing inability of current politics to deal with a range of societal challenges. COVID-19 is certainly the most sudden and presents the biggest immediate economic shock of recent times, but it is just the latest in a long line of examples of political failure, such as conflict in the Middle East, climate change, terrorism, and cyber-attacks.

Along with the growth of automation and digitization which provide opportunities at the macro-level but threats at a more micro-level, what most of these issues have in common is that national responses are likely to fail. Restoring trust requires re-energized global governance, and this means compromise and humility – qualities which appear in short supply to many current politicians.

But, regardless of political will, building resilience to tackle ongoing or rapidly forthcoming challenges also rubs up against free market beliefs, because building resilience is a long-term investment and comes at a price. But by acknowledging vulnerabilities, avoiding complacency, implementing lessons from past experiences, and learning from others, policymakers will be better prepared for the next crisis.

Reconstructing societies through the prism of resilience creates fundamentally different outcomes to global challenges, and can build trust between elected representatives and the wider population. Accepting the vulnerability paradox and acknowledging that those generally less prone to disasters are actually less able to cope when change happens creates a powerful argument for this new approach.

Belarusian president Aliaksandr Lukashenka deserves sanctions. This election campaign in Belarus, which culminated in a vote on Sunday is the most brutal and dirty in its history. But, so far, the EU, the UK and the US have only issued familiar-sounding and futile appeals to the Belarusian authorities condemning their actions. Not imposing sanctions is a de facto licence to continue with repression.

Despite all this, the West is unlikely to impose significant sanctions afterwards. There are several questionable reasons for this. First, Western policymakers fear sanctions against Lukashenko will make him more likely to genuflect to Russia. However, relations with Russia have already deteriorated as Belarus accuses Russia of trying to interfere with its domestic affairs.

Sanctions serve as a wake-up call. The Belarusian authorities then might seek - once again - to repair relations with the West and reduce repression for greater assistance in any direct confrontation with Russia.

Second, the West is reluctant to implement sanctions because it has already invested somewhat in warming relations with Belarusian authorities. Punishing Lukashenko could mean burying the - admittedly modest - achievements of a Belarus-West dialogue that started in 2014 after the conflict in Ukraine began.

Even US secretary of state Mike Pompeo met with Lukashenko in Minsk this year, after which Belarus replaced a small but symbolic amount of Russian oil for American. All the same, the West has its conscience to answer to if dialogue is won but repressions continue.

The third reason why the West may not resort to targeted economic sanctions and visa restrictions is a latent concern whether such measures have any effect on democratization processes at all. They may be appropriate punishment, but there is little evidence they ever change the nature of a regime.

According to this logic, if the West imposes sanctions, the Belarusian authorities will continue to crack down with repression because they will have nothing to lose. That said, in previous years, the Belarusian authorities have released political prisoners in response to sticks and carrots brandished by the West. If Belarusian political prisoners did not have a price tag, the authorities would most likely keep everyone in jail.

To be fair, there are reasonable arguments in favour of and against sanctions. But if the West fails to impose them - be it through lack of political will or out of genuine concern about their effectiveness - at least it should focus on helping ordinary Belarusians withstand Lukashenko’s repressions. After the vote, arrested and jailed Belarusian citizens might lack money for lawyers and arbitrarily imposed fines.

If repression spreads further, independent media and human rights organizations will need funds to keep their structures running in the heat of the crackdown. Many entrepreneurs might lose their companies for openly supporting free elections. Thus, if the West will not sanction Lukashenko, it should at least show solidarity with these Belarusians in peril.

This article was originally published in The Telegraph.

For decades, the mantra of ‘economic diversification’ characterized attempts to reverse Nigeria’s dependence on oil with little real progress. Despite numerous reforms, international loans and restructuring programmes, 85 million Nigerians live in deteriorating conditions of poverty. The current coronavirus pandemic combined with mounting debt obligations and declining GDP gives new urgency to this issue.

The fall in international oil prices, which led government to slash its oil benchmark price from $57 to $30 a barrel and cut 20% of the capital budget, worsens these problems, but it is far from the only factor. Biomass, which drives household pollution and contributed to the death of 114,000 people in Nigeria in 2017, is the most dominant source of energy in Nigeria, amounting to more than 80% of the total energy mix, followed by fossil fuels (18%), and a negligible amount of renewable energy.

Although a diversified energy sector with a strong emphasis on renewables is known to reduce health and economic risks of combustion, there has been little emphasis on the role a diversified energy mix could play in ensuring sustainable development – even though the estimated potential of 427,000MW of solar power and photovoltaic generation means Nigeria has enormous renewable energy opportunities.

The global economy is also undergoing tectonic structural changes that will affect demand for Nigeria’s oil, leaving a fossil fuel-dependent economy more vulnerable. Improvements in global fuel efficiency, the ascent of electricity as a substitute for oil in the transport sector, and the falling prices of renewables and storage technologies all lead to a reduction in demand for fossil fuel products.

Creating structures for transition

This is not a ‘get out of oil’ prescription, and energy transition is complex. But it is inevitable. There are no universal strategies applicable to all countries; local contexts and political realities inform what is possible. Nigeria can take advantage of its abundant natural gas deposit as a ‘transition fuel’ to buy it time for putting the appropriate transition structures in place. The country has made progress in reducing the amount of gas flared, but much remains to be done for Nigeria to meet the 2030 global deadline to end flaring, after failing to meet its 2020 national target.

The first step to proper transition is to align Nigeria’s international obligations with its domestic policies and legislations - the distance between words and action must be bridged and the institutional capacity to implement raised. And, while they contain symbolic green gestures, the economic recovery and growth plan developed in response to the 2016 recession, and the post-COVID-19 economic sustainability plan, do not espouse green growth as a fundamental objective.

Nigeria must start looking inwards, investing its resources in designing and funding a green transition strategy. Its leadership role in floating Africa’s first Sovereign Green Bonds should be followed with non-debt funding options. Faced with a pandemic that has shattered the boundaries of what is politically possible, the Buhari government has overcome initial inertia to announce a halt in oil subsidy payments, although whether it will see through that policy is yet to be seen.

If it does, how it uses the savings will be significant. The money could provide support for Nigeria’s renewable sector to counteract the price disparity with fossil fuels and encourage rapid research and development. The Nigerian Ecological Fund — which is 3% of the Federation Account — should be reformed and expanded beyond its current scope of addressing ‘serious ecological problems’ to cover climate change with a strong emphasis on mitigation and resilience. That would increase Nigeria’s climate finance and minimize reliance on multilateral climate funds.

Beyond public investments in green infrastructure, the government can also incentivize the private sector to drive a green economy. As the largest purchaser of goods and services in the country, it can leverage purchasing power to green the procurement process. With the release of about $421 million to the Ministry of Works, the 2020 budgetary allocation for road projects has been fully disbursed to the Ministry, making procurement in the construction sector ripe for green reforms. The application of sustainable building techniques and materials could reduce Nigeria’s 17 million housing deficit and create more jobs.

But the task of greening the Nigerian economy is too important to be left to the federal government alone. It also requires mainstreaming climate change and sustainable development into the operations, governance, and budgets of government ministries, departments, and private entities at the sub-national and national levels.

There has been much focus on reviving agriculture, which is laudable, but agrarian practices have radically changed from the 1970s when the sector accounted for 57% of Nigeria’s GDP and generated 64.5% of export earnings. Beset by a loss of biodiversity, drought, and desertification, extreme weather events, rise in sea levels and variable rainfall, it is no longer smart for Nigeria to invest in this area without due regard for the significant climate risks. Any effort to revive agriculture and its export potential must be green-centred and integrate regenerative and climate-smart practices.

The right policy mix combined with aggressive funding can position the country as a renewable energy leader, both on the African continent and globally. And it will reap the benefits in technology development, foreign investment, decreased emissions, poverty reduction, and energy for the 80 million people currently without access to the national grid – all of which could ripple into millions of clean energy jobs in manufacturing and installation across the country.

The road to a green future must be paved with deliberate and consistent policies. Reforms hatched because oil prices have plunged should not be ditched when there is a boom. On the brink of a second recession in four years, Nigeria has learnt that the economic turmoil caused by COVID-19 is only the latest warning that pinning economic growth on a boom-bust market and the generosity of foreign donors and creditors is a failing strategy. There is another way and there is an opportunity for Nigeria to lead.

The virus of violence

According to the UN (para. 7) and the International Criminal Court (ICC, para. 279), conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) is quite prevalent in hostilities-affected eastern Ukraine. Both sexes are subjected to sexualized torture, rape, forced nudity, prolonged detention in unsanitary conditions with members of the other sex and threats of sexual violence towards detainees or their relatives to force confessions. Men are castrated. Women additionally suffer from sexual slavery, enforced and survival prostitution, and other forms of sexual abuse. Women are more exposed to CRSV: in the hostilities-affected area, every third woman has experienced or witnessed CRSV as opposed to every fourth man.

COVID-19 has redirected funding priorities, affecting the availability of medical and psychological help for CRSV survivors worldwide. In Ukraine, the very reporting of such violence, stigmatized even before the pandemic, has been further undermined by the country-wide quarantine-induced restrictions on movement and the closure of checkpoints between the government-controlled and temporarily uncontrolled areas.

Addressing CRSV in Ukraine

The stigma of CRSV, the patchy domestic legislation, and the unpreparedness of the criminal justice system to deal with such cases prevent the authorities from properly helping those harmed in the ongoing Russia-Ukraine armed conflict.

CRSV is equally traumatizing yet different in nuance for men and women. Female victims often choose not to report the violence. Women avoid protracted proceedings likely to cause re-traumatization and the disclosure of their experience, which could be particularly excruciating in small communities where everybody knows everyone.

Men also struggle to provide their accounts of CRSV. Their suppressed pain and shame of genital mutilation and other CRSV result in sexual and other health disfunctions. Combined with the post-conflict mental health struggles, this has been shown to lead to increased domestic violence and even suicide.

The very investigation of CRSV in Ukraine is challenging. Certain tests and examinations need to be done straight after an assault, which in the context of detention and grey zones of hostilities is often impossible. Specialized medical and psychological support is lacking. Investigators and prosecutors are hardly trained to deal with CRSV to the point that they do not ask questions about it during the interviews. Burdened by trauma and stigma, survivors are inclined to report torture or inhuman treatment, but not the sexualized aspects thereof.

Seven years into the conflict, the state still has not criminalized the full spectrum of CRSV in its domestic law. Ukraine’s Criminal Code contains a brief list of the violations of the rules and customs of warfare in article 438. It prohibits the inhuman treatment of civilians and POWs but does not list any types of CRSV.

The article has an open-ended reference to Ukraine’s ratified international treaties, from which the responsibility for other armed conflict violations may be derived. For the more detailed norms on CRSV, Ukraine should refer at least to Geneva Convention IV protecting civilians and two additional protocols to the Geneva Conventions, to which it is a party.

However, the novelty of the war context for Ukrainian investigators, prosecutors and judges and their overcautiousness about the direct application of international conventions mean that in practice, observing the treaty or jurisprudential instruction on CRSV has been slow.

Use of the Criminal Code’s articles on sexual violence not related to an armed conflict is not viable. Such provisions fail to reflect the horrible variety and complexity of CRSV committed in hostilities. They also envisage lesser punishment than a war crime of sexual violence would entail. Cumulatively, this fails to account for the intention of a perpetrator, the gravity of the crime and the trauma of its victims.

The lack of public debate and state action on CRSV understates its magnitude. Ukraine should break its silence about CRSV in Donbas and make addressing this violence part of its actionable agenda - in law and in implementation.

Ukraine should incorporate all war crimes and crimes against humanity of CRSV in its domestic legislation; ensure a more gendered psychological and medical support for both sexes; establish rehabilitation and compensation programmes for CRSV survivors; create special victims and witness protection schemes; consider the different stigmatizing effects of CRSV on men and women in criminal proceedings and engage the professionals of the same sex as the victim; map CRSV in the bigger picture of other crimes in Donbas to better understand the motives of the perpetrators; submit more information about CRSV to the ICC and educate the public to destigmatize the CRSV survivors.

The drafters of Ukraine’s transitional justice roadmap should ensure that it highlights CRSV, adopts a gendered approach to it and endorses female participation as a crucial component of reconciliation and broader policymaking.

Embracive policymaking

Although ‘the discriminatory line almost inevitably hurts women,’ 'every gender discrimination is a two-edged sword’, Ruth Bader Ginsburg famously argued before the US Supreme Court. This could not be more relevant for Ukraine. The conflict - and lockdown-related violence has reverberated deeper within Ukrainian society, raising fundamental questions about the roles of both sexes and gender equality.

The failure to address CRSV and its different stigmas for both sexes mirrors the general lack of sustainable gender lenses in Ukraine's policymaking. It is no coincidence that a June 2020 proposal for gender parity in political parties coincided with another spike of sexist remarks by top officials. While women get access to more positions in the army, sexual harassment in the military is investigated slowly. Despite all the impressive female professionals, no woman made it to the first four-member consultative civic group in the Minsk process. Such lack of diversity sends an unfortunate message that women are not important for Ukraine’s peace process.

Ginsburg said, ‘women belong in all places where decisions are being made.’ CRSV against either sex won’t be addressed properly until both sexes contribute with their talents and their grievances to all pillars of Ukraine’s state governance and strategy. Ukraine should look to engage professional women - and there are plenty - to join its public service not just in numbers, but as the indispensable equal voices of a powerful choir.

Having failed to swiftly translate popular support into tangible political achievements, there are signs the protests against the fraudulent presidential election in Belarus may be losing momentum in the face of the state’s resilience and still-confident security and enforcement apparatus.

Attempts to blame the unrest on the West have focused on groups Lukashenka and Russia can both call enemies. And now Aliaksandr Lukashenka is not only inventing anti-Russian policies supposedly held by the opposition, such as suppressing the Russian language and closing the border with Russia, but also a supposed military threat from NATO.

Border movements

Increased military activity inside Belarus does give Lukashenka a wider range of options. Unscheduled activation of military units includes airspace defence practice with missiles and aircraft, electronic warfare (EW) units put on round-the-clock alert, and a number of infantry brigades preparing for live firing exercises.

Lukashenka is drawing attention to the north-west corner of Belarus, singling out the city of Grodno near the border with Poland and Lithuania as a supposed target for Western efforts at destabilization. Grodno is also the destination for an airborne brigade moving from the east to the west of the country and the focus of military exercises under way on the country’s western borders.

All this feeds Lukashenka’s narrative that Belarus is in danger from NATO and the West who are supposedly both stirring up the protests and seeking to exploit disorder - and that this danger extends to possible military clashes.

The Belarusian exercises are over the border from where NATO troops - including elements of the Light Dragoons, a British reconnaissance unit - have been in place in Poland as part of NATO's enhanced forward presence (eFP) since 2017. Pointing to NATO activity in Poland and Lithuania, Lukashenka said on Wednesday ‘we have to follow their movements and plans’ and that ‘they will answer for it if something happens’.

The danger is that having invented a tense situation in Grodno, Lukashenka may now need to be proved right. There may be staged incidents or ‘provocations’ against Belarus military forces, either supposedly instigated by protesters or even by NATO forces on the border - all aimed at bolstering the narrative that NATO, the EU, and the West in general are hostile to Belarus and that more drastic measures are necessary for protection.

Russia’s options still open

Although initial fears of a Russian move into Belarus have receded, Lukashenka’s complaints about NATO also bolster the case for Moscow to intervene. The military exercises fit the narrative that Belarus is under threat from the West - which is exactly the pretext Russia would need.

If this is believed in Moscow, where foreign minister Sergey Lavrov has already described events in Belarus as part of a ‘struggle for the post-Soviet space’, this makes a Russian intervention more likely. Moving forces away from their base near the border with Russia to the other end of the country near Poland and Lithuania also means any Russian entry into Belarus could go more smoothly, with fewer wild cards of possible Belarusian opposition to consider.

There are plenty of sensible, rational, logical reasons why a Russian military intervention in Belarus would be disastrous and counter-productive. But what seems sensible and rational in Europe and North America does not always carry weight in Moscow, which may see the situation completely differently and measure options by completely different standards.

One key area of doubt is the sympathies of the Belarus armed forces. Although some elements of the Belarusian army - particularly airborne and special forces - work closely with their Russian counterparts, more general suggestions that the Belarusian military is merely an extension of Russia’s and is not capable of taking decisions for itself are an over-simplification.

The Belarus armed forces do know that hosting Russian ground troops, airbases or air defence systems would fatally undermine the country’s hopes of avoiding being caught up in any confrontation between Russia and NATO.

And although the great majority of Belarusian officers are Russian-speaking and many have been trained and educated in Russia, there may be sufficient pride in national identity and resentment at heavy-handed treatment by Russia to lead to substantial obstruction of Russian initiatives.

The Belarus General Staff has already refused permission for a Russian aircraft carrying 155 personnel from the Rosgvardiya militarized security force and three tonnes of cargo ‘for the Belarusian interior ministry’ to land in Belarus. This could indicate not only tension between Russia and Belarus, but even between ministries within Belarus itself.

Like Russia, Lukashenka has plenty of options in reserve if his situation deteriorates further. Announcing a state of emergency would allow the Belarusian army to support the security forces in dealing with protests. If the army is on the move with their equipment they are better prepared to be brought into action if needed, but testing the loyalty of the armed forces could prove dangerous if the sympathies of army units turn out to lie more with civilians than with their oppressors from the interior ministry.

The military preparations against fictitious threats and a patiently-waiting Russia is a toxic mix and Belarus’s friends abroad must tread carefully. A key task for the European Union (EU) is to help the Belarusian people without providing a pretext for further violence and Russian intervention.

The right level of engagement needs to be carefully calibrated, avoiding disasters of strategic communication such as European Commissioner Thierry Breton being translated into English as saying Belarus is not part of Europe – with the lack of EU interest that that implies. Although the EU statement promising sanctions and offering funds received a mixed reception, at least it cannot be used by Lukashenka and Vladimir Putin as evidence that their warnings of a Western military threat are genuine.