At the United Nations General Assembly in September 2019, all governments re-committed their countries to achieving universal health coverage (UHC) whereby ‘all people obtain the health services they need without suffering financial hardship when paying for them’. To achieve UHC, governments will need to oversee health systems that are predominantly publicly financed although countries may use both private and public health providers of health services.

Robert Yates will provide a review of recent transitions towards Universal Health Coverage, highlighting the importance of genuine political commitment by heads of state, and the potential benefits to corporate stakeholders in helping reach this sustainable development goal. What are the political, economic and health benefits of UHC? Why can only public financing mechanisms, rather than a free market in health services, deliver an equitable health system? And what is the role of the private sector within the political economy of UHC?

This event is only open to Major Corporate Member and Partner organizations of Chatham House. If you would like to register your interest, please RSVP to Linda Bedford. We will contact you to confirm your attendance.

To enable as open a debate as possible, this event will be held under the Chatham House Rule.

Three years ago, as the UK was holding its referendum on Brexit, the EU was rolling out its Global Strategy for a more cohesive and effective security and defence policy. Since then, EU member states have set impressive goals and, as significantly, taken important practical steps to make an EU defence capability a tangible proposition, despite differing collective defence commitments, traditions of neutrality among some member states and very different strategic cultures.

All of these developments have taken place with the UK as reluctant observer. The UK has been traditionally hostile to a deepening of defence collaboration within the EU (and consistent of the view that Europe’s military security was best provided through NATO). But the Brexit referendum vote has placed the UK as a bystander as EU security and defence initiatives have been pursued which have overridden the past red lines of British governments.

There is, however, a Brexit-related paradox in all these developments.

A central goal of the security and defence-related aspects of the EU Global Strategy is for the EU to have the capacity to act independently of the United States and, through indigenous defence industries, the ability to produce the means to make that possible.

With the UK outside the EU, and its opposition absent, it is easier to create a political consensus to push for more defence integration. But without the UK there are diminished collective defence capabilities which would make European strategic autonomy much harder to achieve.  

The May government has been an enthusiast for preserving close security and defence cooperation with the EU. The Withdrawal Agreement and the Political Declaration both seek to provide for a close EU–UK relationship post-Brexit.

However, the Article 50 negotiations have made clear that the EU’s institutions are hostile to special treatment for the UK beyond that normally accorded to a third country. Disagreements over the terms of the UK’s continuing participation in the Gailleo dual-use satellite system, which has a significant security and defence utility, have signalled that there is a strong lobby in Brussels and some national capitals seeking to significantly circumscribe collaboration with Britain.

The scale and capabilities of the UK’s military, its defence expenditure (notably on defence research and development) and its defence industrial base make any British decoupling from the EU’s security and defence a major issue. Disconnecting the UK from EU developments entirely would be a costly political choice for both sides.

And excluding the UK from new initiatives in defence R&D and new defence procurement arrangements would be suboptimal in delivering a stronger European defence, technological and industrial base. Duplicating existing UK capabilities, especially strategic enablers such as strategic airlift, target acquisition and intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance capabilities, would be an unnecessary squandering of already hard-pressed European defence budgets.

At present the common procurement and defence industry plans driven by the EU Global Strategy are embryonic. And significant defence capability decisions are taking place detached from the EU’s plans, which could reinforce a divide between the UK and other member states.

As illustrative, the formal agreement this week between France, Germany and Spain on the Future Combat Air System (FCAS) to develop a next-generation stealth fighter is competing with the UK-supported Tempest project that shares the same objective. The 20-year timescales for the delivery of the FCAS and Tempest projects are a reminder that defence procurement decisions are of multi-decade significance.

As the EU’s ambitions are nascent, it is too early to fully assess what might be the impact of any decision by the EU and the UK to keep each other at an arms-length in security and defence cooperation. With a more detached relationship, the UK will have significant concerns if it sees the EU’s common procurement arrangements develop in a manner that actively discriminates against the UK defence industry.

Outside of procurement and defence issues there may be other areas of future concern for the UK – for example, the extent to which the EU might deepen and broaden cooperation with NATO in a manner that makes the collective influence of EU member states within NATO more apparent, or to which the footprint of future EU conflict and security activities in third countries starts to overshadow the activities of the UK.

As the UK has been grappling with Brexit domestically, the EU has been evolving its security and defence policy ambitions. These are developments that will impact on the UK and in which, therefore, it has a stake but as a departing member state it has a weakening ability to shape.

Any aspect of future EU–UK cooperation is hostage to the vagaries of how the Brexit endgame concludes.

The new European Commission has finally started its work this week. In a world increasingly defined by great power competition and deprived of the certainties of a strong transatlantic partnership, this might well be the first commission where foreign and security policy issues will be equally important to internal EU ones.

Amid an escalating Sino-American rivalry, there is a growing realization in Brussels that something has to change in the way the EU thinks and acts internationally.

Charting a more successful path forward will not be easy. Josep Borrell, the EU’s new high representative for foreign affairs and security policy, during his confirmation hearing, offered a hint as to what might be needed to get there: ‘The EU has to learn to use the language of power.”’

What might this mean in practice?

Four issues illustrate some of the key dilemmas ahead for the EU and its new executive.

Hard power

The most revealing of these concerns hard power.

For a union so addicted to the US security guarantee, and so used to the softer approaches of exercising its influence, this was always going to be a difficult discussion. The recent disagreement between Germany and France over the future of NATO gave a taste of how fraught and complex this discussion can be.

Underpinning it are three fundamental questions. If the EU has to enhance its capacity to defend its interests with military power, how (and how quickly) is it to move ahead, how much additional responsibility will that mean and to what degree will this responsibility need to be shouldered autonomously, potentially distancing itself from NATO or Washington? Moving forward with this agenda while balancing the competing interests of member states and preserving the fragile progress already achieved with initiatives such as PESCO will not be easy.

Discussion and debate among member states should not be discouraged, but the new commission has a role to play in ensuring that such discussion is constructive. Distracting talks about an EU army or a nuclear ‘Eurodeterrent’ should be shelved, with the focus as much as possible on acquiring tangible capabilities, getting the defence architecture right, ensuring operational readiness and spending defence budgets smartly.

How to use power

Great powers have traditionally been able to cooperate in certain areas while competing in others. Given their wide reach, powers like the US have generally not allowed disagreement on one issue to interfere with the ability to work together on others.

If the EU aspires to be a more assertive global player, it will need to grow comfortable with this compartmentalization. For example, if Brussels wants to stand up to Beijing regarding human rights, the South China Sea or issues of acquisition of European infrastructure, this should not mean that cooperation on areas such as peacekeeping, arms control or climate change needs to be blocked.

Footing the bill

Ursula von der Leyen, the new commission president, has announced that she wants an increase of 30% for external action in the 2021–27 Multi-annual Financial Framework (the EU budget). But with the Brexit budget gap looming, and little appetite to increase contributions or reduce the funds allocated to costly schemes, like the Common Agricultural Policy, compromises will have to be made for this to happen.

This will be one of the first key tests for the new commission. Power costs money, not just gestures, and therefore specific commitments already made under the Juncker mandate regarding the European Defence Fund or the new Neighbourhood, Development and International Cooperation Instrument need to be guaranteed, if not expanded.

Internal politics

None of these steps are possible if the internal workings of the EU become too dysfunctional. A stronger stance internationally would make the sometime incoherence of internal EU management more of a liability to the bloc’s credibility. For example, how can the EU advocate for the rule of law beyond its borders while some of its own member states violate the same principles? 

And there remains the perpetual question of how much more power member states are willing to cede – if any – to deliver faster and more efficient decision-making. If the bloc’s reflexes – often slow, consensual and risk averse – are out of place with the role of a modern great power, how does the commission envision introducing decision-making mechanisms, like qualified majority voting, in foreign and security policy matters?

Borrell’s résumé shows his extensive experience in handling critical policy dossiers. He is also expected to travel less than his predecessor, being mindful of the even heavier institutional work ahead, not least in working with a more politically fragmented European Council and a more politicized European Parliament.

Ultimately, learning the language of power might mean that the EU finally deals with the basics of international affairs as a coherent and cohesive actor, rather than as an occasional ensemble. This endeavour clearly lacks a fixed path or destination. But the new commission seems to be mindful that the EU will have to find new ways to use power as the world changes around it. In doing so, it should keep in mind that the language of power is best articulated not with words, but with actions.

The new European Commission had a bold new agenda when it began its work in December 2019, with climate change, digital transformation and strengthening European democracy among its priorities. Less than six months later, the European continent is in the midst of the worst crisis since the second World War and business as usual has been taken over by crisis management.

Has COVID-19 monopolized the agenda in Brussels? What priorities are still on the table and what debates have fallen victim to the coronavirus? Is the current crisis reigniting and exacerbating existing faultlines in the EU or creating new ones?

Reflecting on his first four months as the Economist’s Charlemagne columnist, the speaker will share what decision-making in Brussels looks like during a pandemic and what debates are dominating conversations in the EU capital today.

As tensions escalate in the Middle East, US President Donald Trump has threatened to strike targets in Iran should they seek to retaliate over the killing of Qassem Soleimani. According to the president’s tweet, these sites includes those that are ‘important to Iran and Iranian culture’.

Defense Secretary Mark Esper was quick on Monday to rule out any such action and acknowledged that the US would ‘follow the laws of armed conflict’. But Trump has not since commented further on the matter.

Any move to target Iranian cultural heritage could constitute a breach of the international laws protecting cultural property. Attacks on cultural sites are deemed unlawful under two United Nations conventions; the 1954 Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property during Armed Conflict, and the 1972 UNESCO World Heritage Convention for the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage.

These have established deliberate attacks on cultural heritage (when not militarily necessary) as a war crime under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court in recognition of the irreparable damage that the loss of cultural heritage can have locally, regionally and globally.

These conventions were established in the aftermath of the Second World War, in reaction to the legacy of the massive destruction of cultural property that took place, including the intense bombing of cities, and systematic plunder of artworks across Europe. The conventions recognize that damage to the cultural property of any people means ‘damage to the cultural heritage of all mankind’. The intention of these is to establish a new norm whereby protecting culture and history – that includes cultural and historical property – is as important as safeguarding people.

Such historical sites are important not simply as a matter of buildings and statues, but rather for their symbolic significance in a people’s history and identity. Destroying cultural artefacts is a direct attack on the identity of the population that values them, erasing their memories and historical legacy. Following the heavy bombing of Dresden during the Second World War, one resident summed up the psychological impact of such destruction in observing that ‘you expect people to die, but you don’t expect the buildings to die’.

Targeting sites of cultural significance isn’t just an act of intimidation during conflict. It can also have a lasting effect far beyond the cessation of violence, hampering post-conflict reconciliation and reconstruction, where ruins or the absence of previously significant cultural monuments act as a lasting physical reminder of hostilities.

For example, during the Bosnian War in the 1990s, the Old Bridge in Mostar represented a symbol of centuries of shared cultural heritage and peaceful co-existence between the Serbian and Croat communities. The bridge’s destruction in 1993 at the height of the civil war and the temporary cable bridge which took its place acted as a lasting reminder of the bitter hostilities, prompting its reconstruction a decade later as a mark of the reunification of the ethnically divided town.

More recently, the destruction of cultural property has been a feature of terrorist organizations, such as the Taliban’s demolition of the 1,700-year-old Buddhas of Bamiyan in 2001, eliciting international condemnation. Similarly, in Iraq in 2014 following ISIS’s seizure of the city of Mosul, the terrorist group set about systematically destroying a number of cultural sites, including the Great Mosque of al-Nuri with its leaning minaret, which had stood since 1172. And in Syria, the ancient city of Palmyra was destroyed by ISIS in 2015, who attacked its archaeological sites with bulldozers and explosives.

Such violations go beyond destruction: they include the looting of archaeological sites and trafficking of cultural objects, which are used to finance terrorist activities, which are also prohibited under the 1954 Hague Convention.

As a war crime, the destruction of cultural property has been successfully prosecuted in the International Criminal Court, which sentenced Ahmad Al-Faqi Al-Mahdi to nine years in jail in 2016 for his part in the destruction of the Timbuktu mausoleums in Mali. Mahdi led members of Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb to destroy mausoleums and monuments of cultural and religious importance in Timbuktu, irreversibly erasing what the chief prosecutor described as ‘the embodiment of Malian history captured in tangible form from an era long gone’.

Targeting cultural property is prohibited under customary international humanitarian law, not only by the Hague Convention. But the Convention sets out detailed regulations for protection of such property, and it has taken some states a lot of time to provide for these.

Although the UK was an original signatory to the 1954 Hague Convention, it did not ratify it until 2017, introducing into law the Cultural Property (Armed Conflicts) Act 2017, and setting up the Cultural Protection Fund to safeguard heritage of international importance threatened by conflict in countries across the Middle East and North Africa.

Ostensibly, the UK’s delay in ratifying the convention lay in concerns over the definition of key terms and adequate criminal sanctions, which were addressed in the Second Protocol in 1999. However, changing social attitudes towards the plunder of antiquities, and an alarming increase in the use of cultural destruction as a weapon of war by extremist groups to eliminate cultures that do not align with their own ideology, eventually compelled the UK to act.

In the US, it is notoriously difficult to get the necessary majority for the approval of any treaty in the Senate; for the Hague Convention, approval was achieved in 2008, following which the US ratified the Convention in 2009.

Destroying the buildings and monuments which form the common heritage of humanity is to wipe out the physical record of who we are. People are people within a place, and they draw meaning about who they are from their surroundings. Religious buildings, historical sites, works of art, monuments and historic artefacts all tell the story of who we are and how we got here. We have a responsibility to protect them.

In 2017 Trump expressed pity for the ‘beautiful babies’ killed in a gas attack on Khan Shaykhun in Syria before launching airstrikes against President Assad's regime. Images of suffering children in world politics are often used as a synecdoche for a broader conflict or disaster. Injured, suffering, or dead; the ways in which images of children circulate in global public discourse must be critically examined to uncover the assumptions that operate in these environments. This article explores reactions to images of children by representatives and leaders of states to trace the interconnected affective and political dimensions of these images. In contrast to attending to the expected empathetic responses prompted by images of children, this article particularly focuses on when such images prompt bellicose foreign policy decision-making. In doing this, the article forwards a way of thinking about images as contentious affective objects in international relations. The ways in which images of children's bodies and suffering are strategically deployed by politicians deserves closer scrutiny to uncover the visual politics of childhood inherent in these moments of international politics and policy-making.

The new European Commission had a bold new agenda when it began its work in December 2019, with climate change, digital transformation and strengthening European democracy among its priorities. Less than six months later, the European continent is in the midst of the worst crisis since the second World War and business as usual has been taken over by crisis management.

Has COVID-19 monopolized the agenda in Brussels? What priorities are still on the table and what debates have fallen victim to the coronavirus? Is the current crisis reigniting and exacerbating existing faultlines in the EU or creating new ones?

Reflecting on his first four months as the Economist’s Charlemagne columnist, the speaker will share what decision-making in Brussels looks like during a pandemic and what debates are dominating conversations in the EU capital today.

Global trade and the WTO – which has been at the heart of the rules-based international trade system since its creation in 1995 – faced a critical moment even before COVID-19. The Appellate Body’s demise in December 2019 led to a renewed focus on the future of the WTO. But the challenges facing the WTO run deeper than that – the organization has lost relevance as a negotiation forum, resulting in the global trade rules not having kept pace with changes in technology and the rise of China. While the WTO provides a forum for international cooperation to address the trade fallout from COVID-19, what implications will the pandemic have for the long-term reform of the global trade system?

Both the US and EU have proposed various WTO reform strategies and taken steps towards collaboration, but is a transatlantic partnership for WTO reform feasible? Do the US and EU believe that a rules-based international trade system is in their interest – especially in light of COVID-19? What are the biggest issues dividing the US and EU on reforming the WTO, and is there a common assessment of the key problems? What steps can the US and EU take to address the dispute settlement function of the WTO and to modernize the trade rules? Are there broader issues, such as environmental and social sustainability, that should be included in a transatlantic agenda for WTO reform?

This event is  part of the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum and will take place virtually only.

We would like to take this opportunity to thank founding partner AIG and supporting partners Clifford Chance LLP, Diageo plc, and EY for their generous support of the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum.

As Iraq emerges from the shadow of war and occupation, it has sought to regain influence as a major actor in an ever-more volatile region. Though the 'new Iraq' attempts to project an independent foreign policy, renewed instability and violence inside the country has challenged the state's ability to develop a coherent and unified foreign policy stance.

Jane Kinninmont and Gareth Stansfield will present the findings of their new report which explores how foreign policy in Iraq today is developed and implemented, and analyses the extent to which Iraq's foreign policy aims are identifiable, independent and national in nature. They will also engage in a wider discussion with an expert panel on Iraqi foreign policy, particularly towards the conflict in Syria and how issues in neighbouring states are intertwined with domestic Iraqi politics.

This report aims to shed light on the key actors, processes and narratives that are shaping Iraq's foreign policy behaviour and options, at a time when the country is seeking to emerge from international sanctions and resume a more normal role in international affairs.

• Iraq's foreign relations are increasingly intertwined with the country's own divisions, and the increasing polarization of key Middle Eastern countries over Syria threatens to escalate Iraq's internal crisis.
   
• Syria has become the most divisive foreign policy issue facing Iraq, with little consensus on how to respond to the conflict. To protect against the risk of spillover from Syria, Iraq's political groupings must develop at least a basic agreement on their strategic response to the conflict.
   
• Western governments should caution their allies in the Gulf that the exploitation of sectarian discourses will have toxic effects that could last for at least a generation.

More on Iraq 

 

The international community’s response to the Syria crisis has been unsatisfactory on many fronts, and humanitarian aid and development is no exception. While there has been renewed emphasis by development organizations on the importance of engaging local actors − notably highlighted in the new Sustainable Development Goals − the reality is this has been woefully lacking in practice. And Syria is simply one example of many where the failure of UN agencies and other humanitarian actors to partner with local actors has hampered the response to humanitarian crises.

Double standards

The problem is that international agencies usually have high and unfair expectations from Syrian individuals and organizations, requiring them to speak the ‘language’ of development, meet international standards, and demonstrate a wide range of expertise. However, these demands are not reciprocated by international organizations and experts being expected to have the same depth of knowledge of the local context in which they are operating. In addition, while Syrian actors are expected to be neutral, impartial and politically unaffiliated, foreign aid appears to be driven − explicitly and unashamedly − by the political objectives of the donor countries.

There is a double standard at work. In many cases, international ‘experts’ on Syria have little local knowledge, but there are no channels to measure or question their level of expertise. At the same time, including local Syrians in decision-making is seen as a threat to predetermined objectives, rather than as an asset.

Syrians could add an indispensable source of knowledge and context to international agencies, as well as add local credibility. But too often they are brought on board to be part of the humanitarian and development picture or to get their simple feedback for evaluation and needs assessment reports to satisfy donors’ requirements, rather than employed as an integral component of designing and implementing projects. Though some of this is down to a pretext of lack of capacity, it raises the question of whether there is an international political willingness and genuine organizational courage to involve Syrians at programming, decision and policy making-levels.

The importance of local

The Syrian example is not isolated. While there is now a debate to encourage engaging local actors, this does not happen in practice. The Local to Global Protection Initiative study reported that local and national humanitarian actors received only 0.2% of the overall direct global humanitarian response in 2013.

Moreover, the international humanitarian and development systems are designed, together with foreign aid policy, to be self-contained and to exclude local actors. This allows donor governments to use the systems as political tools for leveraging control. It is equally difficult for both outsiders as well as insiders to understand how the system really functions. The UN-led coordination structure is one example of the heavy international architecture that remains unable to reform itself, learn from its previous mistakes, or to engage with local actors.

And that engagement matters. The Independent Research Forum emphasized in its brief in February 2014 how engaging local researchers and implementing bottom-up participatory learning can make countries better prepared to achieve the post-2015 Sustainable Development Goals. Those goals, as well as the upcoming World Humanitarian Summit, highlight the importance of including local actors in the humanitarian and development responses.

Moving forward

Fortunately, such initiatives are creating a momentum within the development community to make radical changes through bottom-up approaches that put sustainability into practice. But if the Sustainable Development Goals want to affect real change, there will have to be a significant drive to move from rhetoric and ‘intentions’ to reality and actions. Currently it seems that the international community prefers to simply maintain the current status quo. It only takes a brief reflection on how many Syrians are included in every project or programme and how many Syrians are in positions to contribute at the policy and decision-making levels to realise the scale of the impetus required to change this system. To make that change might provide an opportunity for Syrians to restore some of the ownership to the outcomes and decisions of their conflict.

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