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.

Trade policy is a blunt instrument for realizing human rights. Although many trade agreements now include commitments on human rights-related issues - particularly labour rights - not everyone agrees that linking trade to compliance with human rights norms is appropriate, let alone effective.

Sceptics point out that such provisions may become an excuse for interference or ‘disguised protectionism’ and admittedly anyone would be hard-pressed to identify many concrete improvements which can be directly attributed to social and human rights clauses in trade agreements.

This lack of discernible impact has a lot to do with weak monitoring and enforcement. A more fundamental problem is the tendency of trading partners to gloss over – both in the way that commitments are framed and in subsequent monitoring efforts – significant implementation gaps between the standards states sign up to, and the reality.

Working from ‘baseline’ international standards and treating each state’s human rights treaty ratification record as an indicator of compliance does offer objective verifiability. But it also means underlying economic, structural, cultural, social, and other problems, often go unidentified and unaddressed in the trading relationship.

Regulatory failings of trading partners

Those with sufficient leverage can use dispute resolution or enforcement proceedings to signal displeasure at the regulatory failings of their trading partners, as recently shown by the European Commission (EC) in relation to labour violations by trading partners – against South Korea under the 2011 EU-South Korea Free Trade Agreement (FTA) and Cambodia under the EU’s Generalised Scheme of Preferences (GSP) scheme.

These actions do show a more proactive and rigorous EU approach to monitoring and enforcement and have been largely welcomed – especially by trade unions – as a necessary political response to persistent failings by the states to address violations of fundamental labour rights. However, claiming any major victories on behalf of the workers who produce the goods being traded seems premature.

The ‘implementation gaps’ - between human rights commitments made in a state-to-state context and the reality of the human rights situation on the ground - mean there may be cases where enforcement action under a trading arrangement, such as the removal of trade preferences, may actually make things worse. Some local unions have expressed concern that the EU action against Cambodia may be detrimental to vulnerable migrant women factory workers, especially in the context of a worsening economic situation due to the pandemic.

Making stakeholder voices heard

There are routes through which people with first-hand knowledge of human rights-related problems arising from trading relationships – such as labour rights abuses in global supply chains – can make their voices heard. Unions have used consultative bodies set up under trade agreements to highlight labour abuses in trading partner countries - this helped to shift the Commission’s strategy towards South Korea.

But the rather vague and open-ended mandates of these consultative bodies, and their reliance on cash-strapped civil society organisations to do much of the heavy lifting, means they are not a solid basis for systematic follow-up of human rights problems.

And yet, every country is likely to have a number of agencies with interests and expertise in these issues. Beyond labour inspectorates, this could include environmental regulators, licensing bodies, ombudsmen, national healthcare bodies, special-purpose commissions, ‘responsible business’ oversight and certification bodies, local government authorities and national human rights institutions.

At present these groups are barely mentioned in trade agreements with monitoring frameworks for human rights. And if they do feature, there tends to be little in the agreement terms to guarantee their participation.

To seriously address implementation gaps, there needs to be much greater and more systematic use of these domestic regulatory bodies in human rights monitoring and enforcement activities. These bodies are potentially vital sources of information and analysis about the many different social, economic, environmental and human rights consequences of trade, and can also contribute to designing and delivering ‘flanking measures’ needed to assist with the mitigation of human rights-related risks or adverse impacts which have been detected.

Looking further ahead, monitoring practitioners may find - as those involved in the EU GSP+ scheme have already noticed - that close and visible engagement with domestic regulatory bodies helps strengthen a regulator in getting clearer political support and better resources. It can also help with greater ‘buy-in’ to human rights reform agendas, creating conditions for a positive legacy in the form of more confident, committed, and capable domestic regulatory bodies.

Paying more attention to synergies that exist between the work of domestic regulatory bodies and the principles and objectives which cause states to seek human rights commitments from their trading partners is a vital contribution to the concept of ‘building back better’ from the present crisis.

The goal should be to move from the present system – which veers between largely ineffective consultative arrangements and adversarial, often high stakes, dispute resolution – to more cooperative and collaborative systems which draw more proactively from the knowledge and expertise of domestic regulatory bodies, not only in the identification and monitoring of risks, but also in the delivery of jointly agreed strategies to address them.

This article is part of the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum, promoting research and policy recommendations on the future of global trade.

Many people are aware that the scourge of malnutrition affects a vast number of individuals and communities around the world. However, most tend to view it as a problem to be addressed by governments, charities or donors, rather than the corporate sector.

Certainly, when considered at a societal scale, malnutrition makes the complexities of delivering inclusive growth all the harder. It ratchets up the public health burden while restricting the potential for at-risk populations to take part in productive employment.  Economies are hindered, lives are blighted and the potential for people to reach their full potential can be severely limited.

A number of upcoming summits represent a window of opportunity to address nutrition in the context of resilience, particularly in the wake of COVID-19 and the much-referenced ambition for governments to ‘build back better’. The opportunity is there to foster a true partnership between governments, third sector organizations and businesses of all sizes, sectors and geographies to work for the betterment of society and deliver benefits to all participants in such a partnership. 

So what is the role of business in relation to nutrition - where does it sit on their list of priorities and why should it matter to them? A new Chatham House report represents an important contribution to the discussion about the role of business in addressing malnutrition. Through thorough research and direct engagement with businesses, it seeks to find out if malnutrition is on the corporate radar and the extent to which it is considered a material issue.

Surprisingly, whilst many large corporates recognize malnutrition as a matter for concern, this is typically defined only in the context of CSR programmes or related ambitions. These types of commitments have their limitations though; most notably the fact that the communities more severely affected by malnutrition typically sit outside of the sphere of influence of the multi-national companies with the greatest ability to mobilize resources and make an impact. Where populations are marginalized, operating within the informal economy and living in settings that are too fragile for large-scale business investment, corporate CSR programmes are unlikely to have a meaningful impact.

The report also asked businesses whether they considered malnutrition to have a material impact on their ability to create value, protect value and manage risk. In the majority of instances the answer was no. This may be surprising, particularly given the evidence provided by new modelling – done for this report using a purpose-built model by Vivid Economics – that illustrates the costs posed to business by malnutrition within a population. On an immediate and direct level, the impacts can be considerable due to lost or reduced productivity from the employee base. However, if even that immediate impact is addressed, the externalities associated with malnutrition can come back and have a negative effect on businesses and investors alike.

When reflecting on externalities and the landscape of risk within which business operates, it is worth considering climate change by way of comparison. Climate change is well embedded in the risk profiling of most progressive and well-managed corporates – although in some instances meaningful action may be well overdue. That said, it is recognized that the direct and indirect impacts have the potential to conspire and permanently reduce shareholder, stakeholder and societal value. 

Similarly, if left unchecked, the externalities associated with malnutrition will undoubtedly contribute to an increased level of risk in terms of both operating and investment environments. This is both an issue of social equity and enlightened self-interest given that good nutrition is key to the success of many of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), and is essential to driving sustainable economic growth. One of the lessons of the COVID-19 pandemic is the manner in which widespread malnutrition can significantly reduce the resilience of populations to external risks, including the outbreaks of infectious disease. We need only to look at the impact of climate stress and related events to understand how closely linked malnutrition is – or may become – to the incidence of social unrest and armed conflict in low-income countries.

Progressive companies and investors have already identified the ability to drive inclusive and sustainable growth as a compelling imperative for investment. In this context, the potential for improved nutrition – both in the workforce and amongst the communities upon which the firms depend – should be a true priority. As fund managers seek increasingly meaningful insight into the way that companies within their portfolio(s) create value, protect value and manage risk, the scope of environmental and social governance is expanding. Many recognize the link between delivering on the SDG agenda and protecting or enhancing shareholder value into the longer term. This is a powerful lever for change, particularly when considering that good nutrition is integral to the success of the ambitions laid out by the various SDGs. Successfully delivering against nutrition-focused targets could unlock growth in developing markets and create an enabling environment for achieving the broader SDG agenda. This may in turn help companies to deliver enduring shareholder value in a way that does not undermine their corporate sustainability commitments.

So, given the insights provided by this report, what can businesses do that have the potential to make a practical and effective impact? There are three main action points around which the private sector can galvanize its efforts and work in partnership to deliver a meaningful impact. 

The first action point is a basic requirement to be proactive and make supportive interventions with existing and future workforces, ensuring that staff are well fed and have appropriate facilities for breastfeeding and childcare. Beyond that foundational commitment, the second action point is to work to build impactful and well-governed partnerships to work within local communities and deliver outcomes at an appropriate scale. The third and final action point sets out the importance of reporting. Businesses should thoroughly assess the impacts of their operations, investments and influence. They should be transparent about those impacts and report both on the current situation and the commitments made to deliver on measurable targets.

Malnutrition is a scourge; it negatively impacts individuals, families, societies and economies. Now is the time to align corporate, government and third sector efforts to consign it to the past. We just need leaders to be bold enough to seize the opportunity.

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.

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.

For a leader who had not travelled abroad since his inauguration – skipping G20 and APEC summits and the UN General Assembly – and who is probably one of the most intellectually incurious and disinterested Mexican presidents of the modern era when it comes to global issues, President Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador could have certainly waited until after the US elections in November to travel to Washington and personally engage with President Donald Trump .

Instead, Lopez Obrador – who has sought at all cost to avoid conflict with his US counterpart, having decided that bending the knee was a better option than standing his ground with Trump – waded straight into electoral politics in the US, despite his repeated assurances to the contrary.

The decision to travel now to Washington was fraught with political and diplomatic challenges, not least the fact that President Trump will use President Lopez Obrador as an electoral prop.

To American audiences, at a time when the US is riven by social and political convulsion unseen in 50 years since the Vietnam War and the civil rights movement, meeting with Trump in Washington just before the general campaign starts was seen by many as a pat on the back for a polarizing and unpopular president.

In Mexico, most discussion has been about the merits and timing of the visit, with one El Financiero newspaper poll conducted a week before showing public support (59%) for the trip, while a post-visit Reforma newspaper survey showed that a substantial majority of those polled (69%) believe a Biden victory in November is a better outcome for Mexico.

While it’s true that Lopez Obrador returned to Mexico unscathed, his visit – and his baffling Rose Garden remarks stating that Trump (the most anti-Mexican US president in modern history) has shown respect to Mexico and Mexicans – is certainly a slap in the face to migrants in the US, 11 million of whom are Mexicans, to American NGOs and activists that defend the rights of migrants and enlightened immigration and asylum policies, and a boon to Trump’s dog-whistle xenophobia and chauvinism.

Lopez Obrador’s words added insult to injury by asserting the US president has never imposed anything on Mexico, blithely ignoring Trump’s March 2019 threat to impose punitive tariffs on Mexico unless the country deterred and stopped Central American transmigration flows through Mexico on their way to the US.

Certainly if the purpose of the visit was to celebrate the July 1 entry into force of the USMCA – a spin made even more hollow by the fact that Canadian Prime minister Justin Trudeau decided to skip the event – then Lopez Obrador should have been reaching out to the Speaker Nancy Pelosi and the Democratic leadership to meet and thank them too, given the important role they played in supporting the revamping of NAFTA and the ratification of the USMCA.

The best-case scenario is that the meeting between the presidents will be leveraged by both governments to address looming hurdles with the entry into force of the USMCA.

But Trump still seems intent on wielding punitive tariffs and mercantilist measures to extract concessions from either Canada or Mexico. And across the border, the Lopez Obrador government – and his party in Congress – continue enacting abrupt policy shifts and changes to the rules across different sectors of the economy that bode ill for the level playing field required under the USMCA.

What could have easily been achieved via a virtual event has now morphed into a second successive Mexican government jumping on the Trump electoral bandwagon, after Enrique Peña Nieto’s ill-advised invitation to then-candidate Trump to travel to Mexico, and a new opportunity for the US president to ‘pimp’ Mexico for his campaign purposes. Perceptions have certainly deepened among Democrats that Lopez Obrador prefers to see Trump re-elected.

Although Lopez Obrador’s aim was to buy Mexico time between now and January of next year by hoping this visit will contain Trump’s anti-Mexican tirades on the campaign trail, whether or not Trump stops using Mexico as a political-electoral piñata is yet to be seen. I would not hold my breath.

Moreover, for a leader whose default position is ‘the best foreign policy is domestic policy’, the trip lays bare a paradox in Lopez Obrador’s mantra. It is precisely Mexico’s domestic weaknesses and failings that create foreign policy vulnerabilities, particularly vis-à-vis the Trump administration. And it is likely these will be used in the coming weeks and months to once again to pressure Mexico in what has become Trump’s ‘Sinatra Policy’ towards his southern neighbour: 'My Way'.

Perception is indeed reality, and Lopez Obrador – and more importantly Mexico – can ill-afford to be perceived as Trump’s patsies at this juncture of American history. As many expected, it only took four hours after President Lopez Obrador’s White House remarks for Trump-supporting Hispanic-outreach social media accounts to start piggybacking on them. Campaign officials have also specifically said they will likely use his quotes in TV ads aimed at Hispanic voters later this year.

In addition, there is a potentially bumpy road ahead for Mexico’s relationship with the Democratic Party. The statements and tweets issued by former vice-president Joe Biden, Biden campaign surrogates and officials, prominent Hispanic Democrats in Congress, and the Democratic National Chair signal as such, as does a letter sent the same day of the visit by Democratic representatives regarding outstanding labour issues in Mexico related to USMCA compliance and enforcement.

This trip could have a long-standing impact for Mexico’s relationship with the US – and US society – and the voters that will determine the future of this country in the decades to come. Lopez Obrador’s meeting with Trump could well become a ‘travel now, pay later’ moment in Mexico-US relations.

Back in April, nervousness about external debts reached its peak when highly-respected economists Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff suggested emerging economies with less than a AAA credit rating be offered a moratorium on all their external debt service payments.

Although such a proposal might make sense if emerging economies were actually facing any serious shortage of access to foreign exchange, it is a difficult case to make. What we should worry about is not the external debt of emerging economies, but rather the large increases in government debts denominated in their own currencies.

In the first six months of 2020, borrowers from emerging economies issued more than $400 billion of Eurobonds to international investors, up by one-fifth over the same period in 2019. Most of these bonds were sold by borrowers with relatively high credit ratings, but many of the poorest countries do not fear for their access to international capital markets - largely because the US Federal Reserve increased global supply of dollars to a point where their availability is beyond question.

Much of the panic about emerging economies’ external debt comes from ‘sticker shock’ - the bald fact that developing countries’ external debt rose by $4.1 trillion in the decade to 2018 generates much hand-wringing.

But the increase in gross external debt of developing countries looks a lot scarier than the net increase in debt, which sets off a country’s foreign assets - mostly foreign exchange reserves - against its liabilities. And it is net that counts.

At the end of 2018, foreign exchange reserves covered 70% of the external debt of low and middle income developing countries - much lower than a decade ago, when that coverage was above 100%. But in the 1980s and 1990s – two decades of financial instability largely because of excessive foreign debt – the coverage was 15%. By that measure, we are far from crisis territory.

Complacency about the external debt burden of developing countries is quite wrong. But, if complacency is misplaced, so is panic.

The debt growing most worryingly is the domestic debt of governments. There are large, systemically important emerging economies who will suffer eye-watering increases in public debt this year thanks to a combination of collapsing GDP and the fiscal effort needed to save lives.

In Brazil, public debt is rising from 75% GDP last year to a level that could top 100% in 2020. South African public debt is rising from just over 60% last year to something close to 80% GDP. These are truly unprecedented levels of debt.

So why worry about a government’s domestic debt? These are debts which are denominated in these countries’ own currency. So surely the central bank can just print the currency needed to repay their obligations if more conventional solutions – such as tax increases – will not work.

But it is one thing for the US Federal Reserve to increase supply of dollars on a massive scale, since the world is hungry for them - it is quite another thing if emerging economies do the same with their currencies which almost entirely lack the many attractions of the dollar. That remains the currency of the pre-eminent global superpower whose capital markets offer legal certainty and depth of liquidity. And other highly developed economies have a similar privilege.

And yet printing money – in effect, asking the central bank to finance budget deficits – does seem as though it could become a more attractive option for many emerging countries. Importantly, international fund managers have lost interest in buying bonds issued by emerging economy governments in their local currencies. Just a few years ago, foreign investors owned more than 40% of South Africa’s public debt. That has fallen sharply to 30% and is unlikely to rise.

Monetising budget deficits was once anathema, since it was routinely associated with uncontrolled rates of inflation - bad news not only for firms trying to decide whether to invest but also for the poor, who suffer disproportionately when inflation accelerates.

Right now there are emerging economies – such as Indonesia – whose central banks lend directly to the government, and the sky has not fallen in. The rupiah has been remarkably stable this year. However, there are other examples – Argentina, Turkey – where central bank financing of government deficits has been associated with uncomfortably high inflation rates.

This needs careful watching. The biggest risk is the accumulation of public debt threatening longer-term growth. If firms stop investing because they worry about the risks to the value of their currency as domestic public debt explodes, emerging economies will have a tough time growing their way out of these debts.

It could be this, rather than the external debt of emerging economies, that is the biggest risk to the post-coronavirus economic environment in the developing world.

Although the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict is focused on the Line of Contact around Nagorny Karabakh, a new - and significant - outbreak of violence has happened some 300 kilometres away on high ground along the de jure Armenia-Azerbaijan border.

Although not a first, violence in this area has generally been contained by the proximity of major transport and infrastructure arteries, and of civilian populations on both sides of the border. Plus, unlike in Nagorny Karabakh, the extended deterrents conferred by Armenia’s membership of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) and bilateral agreements with Russia are also – theoretically at least – in force.

Despite this, battlespaces opened rapidly, with bombardment of civilian homes, drone strikes and cyberattacks on government and other sites being widely reported by both sides. At the time of writing, combined reported casualties were already at least 16, the highest for a single incident since April 2016’s ‘four-day war’.

Most are known to be Azerbaijani combatants, including the highest-ranking Azerbaijani serviceman to be killed in action since the 1990s – the respected Major General Polad Hashimov. And, although rumoured to be removed soon anyway following a campaign of negative briefing, Azerbaijani foreign minister Elmar Mammadyarov was publicly blamed in the immediate aftermath for ‘meaningless’ diplomacy and dismissed. He was replaced by education minister Jeyhun Bayramov.

Origins of the clashes

How the fighting began remains unclear. The escalation did not appear to result from a coordinated offensive operation of the kind that led to the four-day war, nor are there obvious strategic goals for either side in terms of the international border. There does appear to have been an element of surprise as an Azerbaijani vehicle unexpectedly encountered a new Armenian post, triggering deadly artillery exchanges.

Unclear boundaries in highland terrain may have played a role. Although referred to as the international border, the de jure boundary between Armenia and Azerbaijan - previously an inconsequential internal administrative boundary in the Soviet Union - is not clearly demarcated in many areas and does not coincide with lines of actual control.

Here, as in Nakhichevan - Azerbaijan’s exclave bordering Armenia and Iran - Armenian and Azerbaijani forces have been engaged in long-term, incremental competition for tactical advantage by claiming higher ground in ‘no man’s lands’. But in remote and cartographically ambiguous areas, the precise location of borders - and even place-names - are unclear, and rival forces can unexpectedly meet their adversaries.

Although clear strategic objectives appear absent, what might then have been a lesser incident escalated purposefully into a crisis – suggesting a political rationale.

A missed opportunity for a negotiations reset

Both Armenia and Azerbaijan began 2020 with unfinished consolidations of domestic power - whether bottom-up in the case of Armenia’s ‘Velvet Revolution’, or top-down in the case of Azerbaijan elite renewal. COVID-19 then added further challenges, with the government of Armenia facing significant domestic criticism for its handling of the pandemic, while numerous opposition activists in Azerbaijan were arrested, and the country’s economic vulnerability to external shocks was highlighted.

But throughout this, the frontlines did remain calm - as they generally have since the three-year period from 2014-2017 which witnessed regular skirmishes, use of heavy weaponry and four days of intensive combat in April 2016. In January 2019, the OSCE Minsk Group made the often-cited announcement that the foreign ministers of Armenia and Azerbaijan had agreed on the necessity of ‘preparing their populations for peace’.

Although the quietest year on the frontline since the 1990s then followed, neither side invested seriously in a peace strategy. After a reasonable start and moves towards humanitarian cooperation, relations between President Ilham Aliyev and Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan eventually visibly soured.

Several moves, such as the go-ahead for new infrastructure in the occupied territories and Pashinyan’s attendance at de facto leader Arayik Harutyunyan’s inauguration in Nagorny Karabakh, were received in Azerbaijan as evidence of Armenian insincerity towards the peace process.

More inflammatory rhetoric then resumed, leading the OSCE Minsk Group to call for calm at the end of June. As recently as July 7, President Aliyev expressed public criticism of the peace process and emphasised the validity of Azerbaijan’s right to use force.

Each new round of Armenian-Azerbaijani fighting serves as an audit of the various restraining factors preventing a larger war. A Russian-Euro-Atlantic-Iranian consensus on proactively containing any new Armenian-Azerbaijani war appears to still hold, although senior-level attention from US secretary of state Mike Pompeo trailed that of his counterparts.

Russia acted quickly to offer mediation, reflecting the reality that any large-scale Armenia-Azerbaijan war would test Russia’s extended deterrence guarantees to Armenia. As in April 2016, Turkey has been vigorous in its support of Azerbaijan, raising concerns in Armenia and drawing oblique warnings from Russia. On the other hand, the CSTO - much to Armenian chagrin - dithered, initially calling then postponing a meeting citing the need for more time to study the situation.

Unprecedented spontaneous demonstrations in Baku called for war with Armenia, broke into the Azerbaijani parliament and, in some cases, articulated anti-government slogans. In the absence of reliable polling, such protests cannot be taken as evidence of a popular consensus in favour of war.

But they do underline the importance of the conflict as the one issue in Azerbaijan where open protest is accepted as legitimate and cannot easily be dispersed. As losses over the past week are counted, the dismissal of the foreign minister may not be sufficient to quell public anger.

Prospects are now real of a return to the dynamics in 2014-15: recursive low-level violence aimed at influencing the diplomatic calendar and public opinion while remaining below the deterrence threshold for triggering active external involvement.

With all EU economies still reeling from COVID-19, the ongoing heated deliberations on the bloc’s next budget, which will determine the amount of money matching its priorities for the next seven years, have taken on an urgency rarely felt in Brussels.

Relying in part on an unprecedentedly large volume of jointly issued debt, the European Commission’s plan for a €750 billion coronavirus recovery instrument is embedded within a revamped proposal for the EU’s long-term budget, of €1.1 trillion for the 2021-27 period. 

Now the ball is in the member states’ court. All seem to agree that getting the EU budget right is crucial to fostering an economic recovery and ensuring the Union is on the right track towards its long-term pre-COVID objectives, from increasing its strategic autonomy to reaching climate neutrality by 2050. However, stark differences persist as to what that means in practice.

Most of the core divisions predate the pandemic’s outbreak. In a special European Council meeting in February, leaders failed to find common ground on the Union’s first post-Brexit budget. Net contributor countries, such as Austria, Denmark, Sweden and the Netherlands — the so-called ‘Frugal Four’— refused to agree to higher overall spending and instead advocated for cuts in the Common Agricultural Policy or cohesion funds, meeting the resistance of states like France and Portugal.

These early divisions foreshadowed the risk of a budget compromise that would leave little space for new policy priorities. The COVID-induced economic crisis has made a traditionally fraught political process even more difficult, putting the squeeze on what were previously priority areas of funding.

The Frugal Four agree on the need for the coronavirus recovery plan but vehemently oppose the volume of grants or the issuance of too much common debt in the proposed instrument, reflecting the unpopularity of these proposals with their domestic audiences. Hungary has also threatened to derail progress on the EU’s rescue plan if rule of law criteria are weaved into mechanisms for the allocation of EU funding.

As European leaders reconvene at the 17-18 July Council meeting, EU Council President Michel proposed a revised 'negotiating box' in preparation for the discussions. The document, which tries to bridge these intra-bloc divisions, bolts the demands for short-term recovery onto the EU’s longer-term ambitions. For instance, it sets an increased target of 30 per cent of funding to go toward climate-related projects, which is necessary for the Union’s green transformation. It also retains the link between the rule of law and EU funding — despite Budapest’s opposition — which is critical for the bloc’s internal accountability and transparency, and external credibility. Furthermore, it proposes a set of new mechanisms through which the EU can sustainably raise its own revenue, including a plastics levy as well as more controversial carbon border tax and digital levy.

Yet in several other critical ways, Michel’s proposals fall short. This is particularly true for some of the more ‘geopolitical’ goals of the Union, as previously expressed by Commission president Ursula von der Leyen, or the repeated calls by the Union’s high representative that the EU should learn to use the language of power.

For all the rhetoric around the EU’s need to boost its ability to act more autonomously in the field of security and defence, reductions in important thematic programmes in this domain could result in a critical loss of momentum, if confirmed. For instance, in Michel’s proposals, flagship defence initiatives such as the European defence fund and the military mobility plan are facing cuts of about 39 per cent and 74 per cent respectively (to some €7 billion for the former and €1.5 billion for the latter) compared with the initial Commission proposal of 2018.

Moreover, the tragic developments at the Greece-Turkey border in the beginning of the year might have brought migration back to the forefront of the EU’s attention, but the overall funding for migration and border management is also significantly lower compared to initial proposals. This serves as another example of a discrepancy between the figures on the table today and those that the EU commission had previously regarded as necessary to address the challenges the bloc faces.

Similarly, under the Council president’s latest proposal, the combined funding allocated for the EU’s external action (under the ‘Neighbourhood and the World’ heading) is lower than the figures in the Commission’s May announcements – from €118.2 billion to €113.9 billion overall. This represents an increase compared to the previous EU budget, but it is not in line with the elevated ambitions recognized by the Commission in May, which have only been made more compelling by the pandemic.

Brokering a deal in EU budget negotiations has always been a brutal affair, requiring sacrifices and compromise under the pressure of a ticking clock. 2020 was never likely to be an exception to this rule; but the pandemic has complicated the politics and raised the stakes.

The risk is that the budget negotiations lead to a compromise which, while delivering a historic coronavirus package, does not adequately support some of the key elements of the Union’s long-term agenda, especially its international ambitions.

Violent unrest in Addis Ababa and the surrounding Oromia region has led to the loss of over 177 lives, with the detention of thousands and widespread destruction to property. The rise of identity-based conflict and related political tension is the most severe test of Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s leadership since he came to power two years ago.

Protests erupted after the assassination on the 29th of June of Hachalu Hundessa, a prominent Oromo singer and activist. They spiralled into widespread rioting, looting and arson which devastated some towns. Targeted attacks and killings, particularly against ethnic minorities in Oromia, have damaged communities’ social fabric and heightened regional tensions.

The motives behind Hachalu’s murder are not fully understood. Suspects linked to a militant faction of the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) have been arrested, while the government has blamed the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and certain prominent activist-politicians for inciting ethnic violence and attempting to derail Ethiopia’s fragile political liberalization. With investigations not yet concluded, any exploitation of this tragedy for political gain and without adequate due process is likely to further erode trust in the government and public institutions. 

Ethiopia’s progress halting under Abiy Ahmed

The prime minister came to power with a vision of national unity – encapsulated in his ideology of Medemer – and implemented a raft of reforms aimed at strengthening institutions and increasing political space, inclusivity and freedoms. Abiy was awarded the 2019 Nobel Peace Prize for Ethiopia’s rapprochement with Eritrea, alongside domestic progress. He was lauded for mediating within the region, including in Sudan following the ouster of Omar al-Bashir.

However, Ethiopia’s simmering ethnic and political divisions have deep roots, with structural problems that have been insufficiently addressed under Abiy’s helm. These include conflicting narratives about Ethiopia’s history, an unfinished federal project and tensions over the division of power between the centre and the regions.

There is also the desire for better representation from various ethnic groups, linked to the pursuit of greater autonomy in many places, notably in the ethnically diverse southern region. Reforms have increased expectations among competing constituencies, heightening tensions further.

There are signs that Ethiopia is sliding dangerously backwards, particularly on security and democracy. The country has seen worsening levels of militant ethno-nationalism and inter-communal violence, a dangerous standoff between the federal government and Tigray region, and an increase in politically motivated deaths.

This has been compounded by the government turning to familiar, heavy-handed and securitized responses to law and order challenges, including intimidation and mass arrests of civilians, opposition politicians and journalists, and shutting off the internet. The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission called for security forces to refrain from punitive measures and pursue conciliatory approaches in implementing the state of emergency measures brought in to deal with COVID-19.

The country is also facing a triple economic shock caused by the pandemic, renewed instability and devastating desert locust swarms. The IMF recently reduced Ethiopia’s GDP growth projections for 2019/2020 to 3.2 percent down from 6.2 percent and the country has estimated that 1.4 million workers will be affected by the pandemic, particularly in the service and manufacturing sectors.

The impact on agriculture, which accounts for a third of GDP and on which most Ethiopian’s depend for their livelihoods, is expected to be severe. In addition to shaking investor confidence, the likely impact on livelihoods, food security and poverty levels makes it harder for the government to maintain public support and could add to instability.

Political turmoil caused by election delay

The situation has been exacerbated by the indefinite postponement of elections that were due in August 2020, as a result of COVID-19.

Efforts to avoid a crisis of legitimacy for the government caused by the end of parliament’s term in October 2020, led to a decision on the way forward being taken by the Council of Constitutional Inquiry (CCI). This group of legal experts led by the President of the Supreme Court, gave the ruling Prosperity Party (PP) an open-ended extension of their term, rubberstamped by the House of Federation, with no limits set on their powers during the interim period.

This decision sets a dangerous precedent and is a missed opportunity to achieve compromise and advance the democratic process. The lack of inclusion has angered opposition groups, with whom the government has had little genuine dialogue. Many in the opposition had advocated for a transitional or technocratic government during the interim, despite risks of further divisions and a vacuum of authority, and accuse the PP of manipulating institutions to stay in power.

Furthermore, the TPLF, the ruling party in the Tigray region and formerly the dominant national political force, is pushing forward with its intention to hold unilateral regional elections. It formed a new regional electoral commission, in spite of objections from the national electoral board and the government, which has implied it could use force to stop the elections. This rising enmity between the PP and the TPLF is extremely worrying and requires immediate de-escalation.

A pathway to genuine dialogue and reconciliation

Ethiopia’s problems can only be resolved through dialogue, compromise and reconciliation. Escalating tensions, particularly between the federal government, Tigray and Oromo opposition groups risk furthering instability and fragmentation. One way to establish confidence would be for a group of respected Ethiopian personalities (elders and religious leaders) to lead a political dialogue, with actors carefully chosen and vetted to ensure the buy-in of government, opposition parties and the public, and supported by Ethiopia’s regional and international partners.

Once established, an initial goal of such a platform would be to induce elites, populist leaders, activists and influential regional media to stop exploiting division and violence for narrow gain. Priority agenda issues include the election timetable and required institutional and legal reforms, the role of the opposition during the interim period, strengthening reconciliation efforts, and the need to carefully manage autonomous security forces within regional states.

The prime minister can still weather the storm and implement his vision of a unified multinational Ethiopia based on the values of democracy, rule of law and justice, but only if the government and other stakeholders do all they can to reduce tensions and preserve peace at this critical juncture. COVID-19 and the associated economic impacts have deepened the country’s multifaceted problems, which can only be resolved by political actors committing themselves towards inclusive dialogue and reconciliation, as they seek to forge a shared common future.

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.

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.

In the aftermath of the devastating Beirut port explosion last week, it is not just the role of the Lebanese political class that has come under scrutiny, but that of their international peers too.

Sunday’s international donor conference led by the French president, Emmanuel Macron, raised €253m (£228m) in relief funds, but it also signalled an important change in rhetoric. For the first time, donors affirmed that relief funds would directly go to the Lebanese people, and that longer-term economic assistance would be dependent on Lebanon implementing structural reforms.

This affirmation came hot on the heels of growing international attention on rampant corruption among Lebanon’s ruling political class, which is widely blamed for the port explosion. It sends the message to Lebanon’s rulers that, while their country desperately needs foreign assistance to stand on its feet, no one can help Lebanon if it does not also help itself.

But the communique issued following the conference glossed over the international community’s own role in sustaining Lebanon’s corrupt political class over a period of decades. At the aid conference, Macron said that Lebanon’s future is at stake. What donors need to recognise is that this future is a shared responsibility for them and Lebanon’s leaders alike.

With Lebanon’s debt greater than 170% of its GDP, and with the port explosion costing an estimated $15bn of damage, Lebanon needs foreign assistance to prevent it becoming a failed state. But what it needs even more desperately are reforms that would counter the corruption and lack of accountability that led it to this sorry state of affairs in the first place.

It is Lebanon’s existing political system – a power-sharing pact between different sects rather than a system of governance on the basis of competence – that facilitates its leaders’ reckless behaviour.

The international community is partly responsible for sustaining this system through cascading patronage. For decades, Lebanese leaders grew accustomed to neglecting the national interest and eventually being bailed out by international assistance. Dollar deposits would land in the central bank from Gulf donors, loans would be offered by European countries and foreign aid packages would flow to Lebanese state institutions – only for the majority of this money to end up lining the pockets of the country’s rulers, who frequently overcame their political differences to share state resources between them. The Lebanese state came to exist as a shell in the eyes of its citizens.

Lebanon’s rulers benefited from citizens’ low expectations from the state and the lack of measures ensuring transparency and accountability in the country. They brokered a social contract that cast the leaders as patrons and the people as clients rather than citizens. Foreign powers were well aware of this dynamic but they often turned a blind eye to it, and even nurtured it, because they believed the Lebanese political system brought stability and predictability following the tumultuous civil war.

With time the leaders’ greed grew, and with that the economic situation worsened. Leaders who behaved as de facto local authorities, granting constituents civil service jobs or minor privileges, provided them less and less. There was some international recognition that this dynamic was becoming unsustainable – international donors pledged $11bn during the CEDRE conference of 2018 on condition that Lebanon implemented structural reforms.

And in the wake of Lebanon’s recent economic deterioration, the International Monetary Fund said in April that any discussion of a loan to Lebanon would be subject to more reforms. On both occasions, Lebanon’s rulers ignored the calls for reform, counting on foreign support eventually coming in unconditionally as it used to in the past. International donor follow-up was sluggish.

The port explosion needs to be a wake-up call for any international entity seeking a stable Lebanon. The blast is ultimately the result of the decades during which political classes in Lebanon and outside it fostered the country’s dysfunctional political system. No long-term assistance should flow into Lebanon without strong conditions on transparency and accountability in how this assistance would be employed.

Foreign support is not the problem per se, but rather when it is handed on a plate unconditionally, maintaining the patronage cascade, exacerbating the weakness of state institutions, and further impoverishing Lebanese citizens.

With Lebanon’s economy almost crumbling in the aftermath of the explosion, there is an opportunity for the international community to exert leverage over Lebanese leaders – whose personal wealth grew partially from legal and illegal transactions through the devastated port – so that necessary reforms are implemented. Such leverage would not remove Lebanon’s defective political system, but would pressure its leaders to accept at least some basic reforms.

But for Lebanon to really turn a new page, it needs a new social contract and a new political system based on fairness, transparency and accountability. This is a change that can only start from within Lebanon, but it also depends on the international community abandoning their tacit support of a disastrous political status quo.

This article was originally published in The Guardian.

Ongoing talks between Egypt, Ethiopia and Sudan attempting to find a diplomatic and peaceful solution to the dispute over the Blue Nile Basin offer a unique opportunity for trans-boundary cooperation and have huge significance for a region dealing with multiple complex issues.

With trust clearly at a premium, the continuation of talks demonstrates good faith, but there is an urgent need to strengthen negotiations through all available diplomatic channels. The African Union (AU) is well-placed to continue mediating, but sustained high-level engagement is also needed from regional and international partners such as the EU and US, as well as multilateral support in terms of both financial and technical resources.

A tense history to overcome

At the heart of this dispute is the new Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) – set to become Africa's biggest hydroelectric dam when complete. Egypt and Sudan, who lie downstream, fear that Ethiopia, as the dam builders, will effectively gain control of the flow of the Nile, a turn of events that radically changes the way that water resources have been shared in the region.

Egypt - widely described as a ‘gift of the Nile’ - is almost entirely dependent on the Nile to meet its various water needs, and is the major beneficiary of the 1929 and 1959 agreements on using the shared river’s water. The 1959 agreement gives Egypt a share of 55.5 billion cubic meters (BCM) annually out of 74 billion available, and a veto right over projects being developed upstream, while Sudan is allocated 18.5 BCM.

Crucially neither of these old agreements recognises the interests of other upstream countries on the Nile, some of which have asserted their own development ambitions on the river over the last two decades and pushed for a new agreement to enshrine equitable rights and harmonious use of the water.

One such country is Ethiopia where the Blue Nile River originates. The GERD is a central part of Ethiopia’s ambitions for economic prosperity. The dam, which is largely self-financed, will have a capacity of 74 BCM when completed, enough to provide abundant cheap energy to power both national and regional developments. Currently, more than half Ethiopia’s 110 million people do not have access to electricity, but demand is increasing by 30 per cent annually.

Unclear impacts

The unclear impact of the GERD – and lower volumes of water – on food security and agriculture complicate the negotiations. Egypt, Ethiopia and Sudan’s populations are set to increase significantly in the coming decades and each are already dealing with significant challenges around food insecurity and nutrition, which in Egypt and Sudan, are partly exacerbated by the colonial-era agricultural structures set up to exploit cash crops.

Any change in water quality would have a huge impact on the 67% of Egyptian farm holdings considered as ‘small’ – the majority of which are on the banks of the Nile. And changes in water volumes might increase desertification and loss of livelihoods, potentially causing civil unrest if not addressed properly.

The environmental impact of the GERD on the complex Nile River system also raises concerns about the river’s ecosystem, the surrounding environment, and the river’s downstream course. Despite talks in 2015 leading to an agreement on declaration of principles, thorough technical studies have not been implemented.

Although there is little evidence that overall water levels in the Nile Basin have reduced in recent years, climate change is causing more variation in the Nile’s flow which increases the risk of flooding and extended droughts. Downstream states are also concerned about impacts from any breaches, damage or failure of the dam, including possible seismic activity.

Of course, the GERD also offers some added value to the downstream states. The dam can help manage floods in Sudan, reduce the significant water loss to evaporation - as in the case of Lake Nasser - and lessen the effect of sediment on downstream dams. In Sudan, where less than one-quarter of the estimated 70 million hectares of arable land is currently cultivated, any reduction in seasonal flooding would boost agricultural output and aid economic recovery. The dam will offer Ethiopia significant opportunities for the trade of cheap renewable energy to Sudan and neighbouring states earning it a possible $1bn a year in revenues. And adopting a more ‘basin-integrated’ management approach can be a springboard for enhanced regional cooperation between the three states.

But geopolitical tensions between the three have escalated since satellite imagery revealed apparent significant filling of the dam prior to reaching any agreement. Ethiopia has long said it would begin filling the dam during its rainy season, but insists the filling occurred naturally through June-July from rainfall and runoff and its first-year target of 4.9 BCM was reached without needing to close the dam gates. Egypt and Sudan have restated their calls for a binding legal agreement on the rules for filling and management of disputes.

Security response not the answer

Internal pressures are particularly acute, with all three countries experiencing public uprisings and regime change in the last decade, and current leaders are under pressure not to appear weak from influential sections of society pushing a hard nationalist line.

Hawkish elements in Egypt have long supported a more securitized response to any potential threats from the GERD, and the recent request from President Sisi that Egyptian air forces be ready to handle targets inside and outside of the country was interpreted as a threat to Turkey in Libya, and Ethiopia.

Egypt has also asked for the GERD to be discussed at the UN Security Council but Ethiopia’s Nobel peace prize-winning prime minister Abiy Ahmed, facing significant internal unrest himself, has made it clear that a costly confrontation is not in anyone’s interests. Meanwhile, Sudan’s transitional government - being jointly run by civilians and the military - is keen to assert its own interests on the Nile but has also played a conciliatory role with its neighbours. Increased engagement of Gulf states in the Horn of Africa and the impacts of conflicts in Libya, Yemen and Syria add more complexity to the overall regional picture.

Certainly none of the major parties sharing the river would benefit from a hard security response to the dam. For Egypt, such a move would torpedo its re-engagement in Sub-Saharan Africa under President Sisi and likely lead to its expulsion from the AU. For Ethiopia, overt conflict would be a huge setback for its development and regional integration ambitions. And Sudan’s nascent transition can ill-afford to be part of another regional conflict.

Thankfully, such an outcome is both highly unlikely and historically rare, and behind the scenes there has been significant progress. Some reports suggest a provisional agreement has been reached on the volume of filling required and the timeframe for the filling to happen. If so, most dispute now revolves around what to do in the event of a drought, provisions for information exchange, and how to translate all this into a binding agreement.

A two-phase approach, consisting of a short-term deal on filling and operating the GERD followed by discussions on future developments and allocation, could be the best way to reach a lasting settlement and replace the extremely outdated existing water-sharing agreements.

Reaching a successful deal between the three countries is not easy as it requires brave leadership and political goodwill, a de-escalation of long-standing rhetoric and brinkmanship, and a willingness to compromise on all sides to ensure the gaps between the countries' positions are significantly narrowed.

What is required is a determined effort to keep the countries talking and provide the solutions which can bridge the parties’ differences, build confidence, and secure the vital diplomatic success so badly needed for wider stability and progress in the region.