With Putin’s current term as head of state due to run out in 2024, the question everybody has been asking is what he will do to remain in power. The Russian president’s recent speech, made in person in the State Duma during the second reading of his own constitutional reform bill, has been interpreted by many as a clear answer. Summaries such as “Putin forever” and “perpetual Putin” abound. But the reality is not so clear.

Putin has not committed to standing for re-election in 2024, never mind staying in power until 2036, when two additional six-year terms from 2024 would run out. What he has done is provide the constitutional grounds to retain power as president. It creates a highly credible option without committing him to it.

And the uncertainty matters. Because as long as members of the elite are unsure whether Putin will take up the option to remain president, they are kept in check.

Broader constitutional reform

With the flurry of interest around Putin’s announcement, we should not lose sight of his moves to further strengthen the presidency. As part of the broader constitutional reform package, Russia’s existing “super-presidency” will gain additional powers, such as the authority to fire top-tier judges and to block legislation when the legislature has overridden a presidential veto (in other words, a “super-veto”).

The proposals also put the autonomy of local self-government at risk, with Moscow and regional executives gaining the constitutional power to hire and fire officials who are not even technically part of the state. And the president now has a formalised role as “general leader” of the government. Putin is creating the “Great Presidency”.

However, the majority of constitutional changes do not relate to the presidency – they have different purposes. Firstly, to revitalise support for the regime which took a hit following unpopular pension reforms in 2018. Secondly, to distract or appease those worried by Putin remaining in a strengthened presidency. And perhaps most significantly, to boost turnout in the nationwide vote on reforms.

This desire to re-energise popular support becomes apparent as the changes – some of which will have to be inserted rather awkwardly into the constitution’s structure – focus on three elements aimed squarely at improving the regime’s appeal: increased material support from the state for citizens, including indexing state pensions; an emphasis on “traditional values”, including a declaration that marriage can only be a union between a man and a woman; and increased Russian sovereignty, including a “nationalisation” of the elite, with a constitutional ban on top-level officials having bank accounts abroad. 

Constitutional reform is, moreover, the most visible part of a broader political transformation already underway, including a major propaganda drive. Putin has promised a significant increase in resources for its “maternity capital” programme, putting more money in the pockets of young Russian families.

And he has instructed Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin’s government to focus on delivering his “national projects” – goals aimed at improving Russians’ lives across a range of areas, from infrastructure to education and healthcare.

Taking advantage of several imminent historical milestones is also on the cards. It has been reported Putin will sign the constitutional reform bill on March 18 – the anniversary of Russia’s annexation of Crimea. And May 9 is the 75th anniversary of the end of the Great Patriotic War (the Russian term for the Second World War), with foreign dignitaries invited to attend events in Moscow.

Putin has also been filling the airwaves with a high-production-values series called “20 Questions for Vladimir Putin”, as well as holding public meetings with citizens in provinces such as Cherepovets and Ivanovo. There is a clear aim to demonstrate the president is not only still in control, but also concerned with the well-being of everyday Russians.

With parliamentary elections scheduled for September 2021 the Kremlin knows that, to maintain its control of a super-majority of seats in the State Duma, its ratings-raising drive has to work – even if it does always have the option of using manifestly authoritarian methods for realising desired election results. A proposal to call early State Duma elections was made during the second reading of Putin’s reform bill, but was quickly withdrawn after Putin spoke out against the idea.

Russia’s complex architecture of “power”

Throughout this transformation, maintaining control of the elite – particularly of the siloviki – is key for Putin. A reshuffling and removal of senior officials in the Procuracy has seen Yury Chaika replaced as general prosecutor by Ivan Krasnov, previously a deputy chair of the Investigative Committee, which is widely seen as a rival structure in Russia’s complex architecture of “power” bodies.

When considered alongside the constitutional changes giving the president broader powers in appointing regional prosecutors, this is textbook “divide and rule”. Power balancing is also on display with the Security Council, as the job description for Dmitry Medvedev’s new role as its deputy chair could provide fertile ground for clashes with the body’s secretary, Nikolai Patrushev.

Pitting rival patronal networks against each other means Putin can keep rivals in check within the broader structure of the “Great Presidency”, while staying firmly in control himself.

The prospect of Putin remaining president is unlikely to be popular. According to data from independent Russian polling agency the Levada Centre, only 27 per cent of Russians want Putin to stay in the post after 2024. This figure could, of course, change in either direction as the prospect becomes more real for Russians. But if Putin’s announcement galvanises mass opposition, the authorities may well use responses to the COVID-19 outbreak to keep protesters at bay – something already on display in Moscow.

What this all means for Russia is that, despite the drama, considerable uncertainty remains following Putin’s announcement. What we can say for certain, however, is that it dashes hopes of serious political change any time soon.

As coronavirus spreads across the globe, states grapple to find the ideal strategy for coping with the global pandemic. And, in China, Singapore, South Korea, the US, the UK, and Europe, divergent policies are a product of state capacity and legal authority, but they also reveal competing views about the optimal role of centralized state authority, federalism, and the private sector.

Although it is too soon to know the longer-term effects, the apparent capacity of centralized state authority in China, South Korea and Singapore to respond effectively and rapidly is making headlines. In the United States, the opposite has been true. 

America’s response is being shaped by its federal structure, a dynamic private sector, and a culture of civic engagement. In the three weeks since the first US case of coronavirus was confirmed, state leaders, public health institutions, corporations, universities and churches have been at the vanguard of the nation’s effort to mitigate its spread.

Images of safety workers in hazmat suits disinfecting offices of multinational corporations and university campuses populate American Facebook pages. The contrast to the White House effort to manage the message, downplay, then rapidly escalate its estimation of the crisis is stark.

Bewildering response

For European onlookers, the absence of a clear and focused response from the White House is bewildering. By the time President Donald Trump declared a national emergency, several state emergencies had already been called, universities had shifted to online learning, and churches had begun to close.

By contrast, in Italy, France, Spain and Germany, the state has led national efforts to shutter borders and schools. In the UK, schools are largely remaining open as Prime Minister Boris Johnson has declared a strategy defined by herd immunity, which hinges on exposing resilient populations to the virus.

But America has never shared Europe’s conviction that the state must lead. The Center for Disease Control and Prevention, the leading national public health institute and a US federal agency, has attempted to set a benchmark for assessing the crisis and advising the nation. But in this instance, its response has been slowed due to faults in the initial tests it attempted to rollout. The Federal Reserve has moved early to cut interest rates and cut them again even further this week.

But states were the real first movers in America’s response and have been using their authority to declare a state of emergency independent of the declaration of a national emergency. This has allowed states to mobilize critical resources, and to pressure cities into action. After several days delay and intense public pressure, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo forced New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio to close the city’s schools.

Declarations of state emergencies by individual states have given corporations, universities and churches the freedom and legitimacy to move rapidly, and ahead of the federal government, to halt the spread in their communities.

Washington state was the first to declare a state of emergency. Amazon, one of the state’s leading employers, quickly announced a halt to all international travel and, alongside Microsoft, donated $1million to a rapid-response Seattle-based emergency funds. States have nudged their corporations to be first movers in the sector’s coronavirus response. But corporations have willingly taken up the challenge, often getting ahead of state as well as federal action.

Google moved rapidly to announce a move allowing employees to work from home after California declared a state of emergency. Facebook soon followed with an even more stringent policy, insisting employees work from home. Both companies have also met with World Health Organization (WHO) officials to talk about responses, and provided early funding for WHO’s Solidarity Response Fund set up in partnership with the UN Foundation and the Swiss Philanthropy Foundation.

America’s leading research universities, uniquely positioned with in-house public health and legal expertise, have also been driving preventive efforts. Just days after Washington declared a state of emergency, the University of Washington became the first to announce an end to classroom teaching and move courses online. A similar pattern followed at Stanford, Harvard, Princeton and Columbia - each also following the declaration of a state of emergency.

In addition, the decision by the Church of the Latter Day Saints to cancel its services worldwide followed Utah’s declaration of a state of emergency.

The gaping hole in the US response has been the national government. President Trump’s declaration of a national emergency came late, and his decision to ban travel from Europe but - at least initially - exclude the UK, created uncertainty and concern that the White House response is as much driven by politics as evidence.

This may soon change, as the House of Representatives has passed a COVID-19 response bill that the Senate will consider. These moves are vital to supporting state and private efforts to mobilize an effective response to a national and global crisis.

Need for public oversight

In the absence of greater coordination and leadership from the centre, the US response will pale in comparison to China’s dramatic moves to halt the spread. The chaos across America’s airports shows the need for public oversight. As New York State Governor Cuomo pleaded for federal government support to build new hospitals, he said: ‘I can’t do it. You can’t leave it to the states.'

When it comes to global pandemics, we may be discovering that authoritarian states can have a short-term advantage, but already Iran’s response demonstrates that this is not universally the case. Over time, the record across authoritarian states as they tackle the coronavirus will become more apparent, and it is likely to be mixed.

Open societies remain essential. Prevention requires innovation, creativity, open sharing of information, and the ability to inspire and mobilize international cooperation. The state is certainly necessary, but it is not sufficient alone.

Linked to the call for a global response to the Covid-19 pandemic that I, Robin Niblett and Creon Butler have outlined, the case for a specific dramatic economic policy gesture from many policymakers in large economies is prescient.

It may not be warranted from all G20 nations, although given the uncertainties, and the desire to show collective initiative, I think it should be G20 driven and inclusive.

We need some sort of income support for all our citizens, whether employees or employers. Perhaps one might call it a truly People’s QE (quantitative easing).

Against the background of the previous economic crisis from 2008, and the apparent difficulties that more traditional forms of economic stimulus have faced in trying to help their economies and their people - especially against a background of low wage growth, and both actual, and perception of rising inequality - other ideas have emerged.

Central banks printing money

Both modern monetary theory (MMT) and universal basic income (UBI) essentially owe their roots to the judgement that conventional economic policies have not been helping.

At the core of these views is the notion of giving money to people, especially lower income people, directly paid for by our central banks printing money. Until recently, I found myself having very little sympathy with these views but, as a result of COVID-19, I have changed my mind.

This crisis is extraordinary in so far as it is both a colossal demand shock and an even bigger colossal supply shock. The crisis epicentre has shifted from China - and perhaps the rest of Asia - to Europe and the United States. We cannot expect policies, however unconventional by modern times, such as the dramatic monetary steps announced by the Federal Reserve Board and others like it, to put a floor under this crisis.

We are consciously asking our people to stop going out, stop travelling, not go to their offices - in essence, curtailing all forms of normal economic life. The only ones not impacted are those who entirely work through cyberspace. But even they have to buy some forms of consumer goods such as food and, even if they order online, someone has to deliver it.

As a result, markets are, correctly, worrying about a collapse of economic activity and, with it, a collapse of companies, not just their earnings. Expansion of central bank balance sheets is not going to do anything to help that, unless it is just banks we are again worried about saving.

What is needed in current circumstances, are steps to make each of us believe with high confidence that, if we take the advice from our medical experts, especially if we self-isolate and deliberately restrict our personal incomes, then we will have this made good by our governments. In essence, we need smart, persuasive People’s QE.

Having discussed the idea with a couple of economic experts, there are considerable difficulties with moving beyond the simple concept. In the US for example, I believe the Federal Reserve is legally constrained from pursuing a direct transfer of cash to individuals or companies, and this may be true elsewhere.

But this is easily surmounted by fiscal authorities issuing a special bond, the proceeds of which could be transferred to individuals and business owners. And central banks could easily finance such bonds.

It is also the case that such a step would encroach on the perception and actuality of central bank independence, but I would be among those that argue central banks can only operate this independence if done wisely. Others will argue that, in the spirit of the equality debate, any income support should be targeted towards those on very low incomes, while higher earners or large businesses, shouldn’t be given any, or very little.

I can sympathise with such spirit, but this also ignores the centrality of this particular economic shock. All of our cafes and restaurants, and many of our airlines, and such are at genuine risk of not being able to survive, and these organisations are considerable employers of people on income.

It is also the case that time is of the essence, and we need our policymakers to act as soon as possible, otherwise the transmission mechanisms, including those about the permanent operation of our post World War 2 form of life may be challenged.

We need some kind of smart People’s QE now.

COVID-19 is a sharp reminder of why trade and climate policy matters. How can governments maintain access to critical goods and services, and ensure global supply chains function in times of crisis?

The timing of many trade negotiations is now increasingly uncertain, as are the UK’s plans to host COP26 in November. Policy work continues, however, and the EU has released its draft negotiating text for the new UK-EU trade deal, which includes a sub-chapter specifically devoted to climate. 

This is a timely reminder both of the pressing need for the UK to integrate its trade and climate policymaking and to use the current crisis-induced breathing space in international negotiations - however limited - to catch up on both strategy and priorities on this critical policy intersection.

The UK government has moved fast to reset its external trade relations post-Brexit. In the past month it formally launched bilateral negotiations with the EU and took up a seat at the World Trade Organization (WTO) as an independent member. Until the COVID-19 crisis hit, negotiations were also poised to start with the US.

The UK is also in the climate spotlight as host of COP26, the most important international climate negotiation since Paris in 2015, which presents a vital opportunity for the government to show leadership by aligning its trade agenda with its climate and sustainability commitments in bold new ways.

Not just an empty aspiration

This would send a signal that ‘Global Britain’ is not just an empty aspiration, but a concrete commitment to lead.

Not only is concerted action on the climate crisis a central priority for UK citizens, a growing and increasingly vocal group of UK businesses committed to decarbonization are calling on the government to secure a more transparent and predictable international market place that supports climate action by business.

With COP26, the UK has a unique responsibility to push governments to ratchet up ambition in the national contributions to climate action – and to promote coherence between climate ambition and wider economic policymaking, including on trade. If Britain really wants to lead, here are some concrete actions it should take.

At the national level, the UK can pioneer new ways to put environmental sustainability – and climate action in particular - at the heart of its trade agenda. Achieving the government’s ambitious Clean Growth Strategy - which seeks to make the UK the global leader in a range of industries including electric cars and offshore wind – should be a central objective of UK trade policy.

The UK should re-orient trade policy frameworks to incentivize the shift toward a more circular and net zero global economy. And all elements of UK trade policy could be assessed against environmental objectives - for example, their contribution to phasing out fossil fuels, helping to reverse overexploitation of natural resources, and support for sustainable agriculture and biodiversity.

In its bilateral and regional trade negotiations, the UK can and should advance its environment, climate and trade goals in tandem, and implementation of the Paris Agreement must be a core objective of the UK trade strategy.

A core issue for the UK is how to ensure that efforts to decarbonise the economy are not undercut by imports from high-carbon producers. Here, a ‘border carbon adjustment (BCA)’ - effectively a tax on the climate pollution of imports - would support UK climate goals. The EU draft negotiating text released yesterday put the issue of BCAs front and centre, making crystal clear that the intersection of climate, environment and trade policy goals will be a central issue for UK-EU trade negotiations.

Even with the United States, a trade deal can and should still be seized as a way to incentivize the shift toward a net zero and more circular economy. At the multilateral level, as a new independent WTO member, the UK has an opportunity to help build a forward-looking climate and trade agenda.

The UK could help foster dialogue, research and action on a cluster of ‘climate and trade’ issues that warrant more focused attention at the WTO. These include the design of carbon pricing policies at the border that are transparent, fair and support a just transition; proposals for a climate waiver for WTO rules; and identification of ways multilateral trade cooperation could promote a zero carbon and more circular global economy.  

To help nudge multilateral discussion along, the UK could also ask to join a critical ‘path finder’ effort by six governments, led by New Zealand, to pursue an agreement on climate change, trade and sustainability (ACCTS). This group aims to find ways forward on three central trade and climate issues: removing fossil fuel subsidies, climate-related labelling, and promoting trade in climate-friendly goods and services.

At present, the complex challenges at the intersection of climate, trade and development policy are too often used to defer or side-step issues deemed ‘too hard’ or ‘too sensitive’ to tackle. The UK could help here by working to ensure multilateral climate and trade initiatives share adjustment burdens, recognise the historical responsibility of developed countries, and do not unfairly disadvantage developing countries - especially the least developed.

Many developing countries are keen to promote climate-friendly exports as part of wider export diversification strategies  and want to reap greater returns from greener global value chains. Further, small island states and least-developed countries – many of which are Commonwealth members – that are especially vulnerable to the impacts of climate change and natural disasters, need support to adapt in the face of trade shocks and to build climate-resilient, trade-related infrastructure and export sectors.

As an immediate next step, the UK should actively support the growing number of WTO members in favour of a WTO Ministerial Statement on environmental sustainability and trade. It should work with its key trading partners in the Commonwealth and beyond to ensure the agenda is inclusive, supports achievement of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and helps developing countries benefit from a more environmentally sustainable global economy.

As the UK prepares to host COP26, negotiates deals with the EU and US, and prepares for its first WTO Ministerial meeting as an independent member, it must show it can lead the way nationally, bilaterally, and multilaterally. And to ensure the government acts, greater engagement from the UK’s business, civil society and research sectors is critical – we need all hands on deck to forge and promote concrete proposals for aligning UK trade policy with the climate ambition our world needs.

Having chaired the independent (and global) Antimicrobial Resistance (AMR) Review for David Cameron, I know a similar approach should have been taken quickly about COVID-19.

Similar not in precise nature but - in so far as incorporating infectious disease modelling, and using economic analysis to try to contain and solve it - it should be applied in parallel.

The AMR Review is well-known for highlighting the potential loss of life as well as the economic costs of an escalating growth of resistance to antimicrobials, and the inaction to prevent it.

In particular we showed that, by 2050, there could be around 10 million people each year dying from AMR, and an accumulated $100trn economic cost to the world from 2015 to 2050.

Horrendous outcomes

What is less focused on, as we showed in our final report, is that to prevent these horrendous outcomes, a 'mere' $42bn would need to be invested globally. This would give an investment return of something like 2,000%.

I shudder to think what policymakers could do if we don’t make these investments and we reach a situation - possibly accelerated itself by escalating the inappropriate use of antibiotics in this COVID-19 crisis - where we run out of useful antibiotics. It will be a much longer time period to find new vaccines to beat COVID-19.

In addition to this crisis, requiring G20 policymakers to back up their generous words about combatting AMR would mean they need to spend around $10bn instigating the generally agreed Market Incentive Awards to promote serious efforts by pharmaceutical companies.

In fact, given that the financial crisis we are also now in means companies are greatly dependent on our governments for their future survival, perhaps the pharma Industry will finally understand the real world concept of 'Pay or Play', where companies that don’t try to find new antibiotics are taxed to provide the pool of money for others that are bold enough to try. And realise there is a world coming of different risk-rewards for all, including them.

When applied to the COVID-19 challenge, it is useful to look at the required investment in accelerating as much as possible the efforts to find useful vaccines to beat it, but also to immediately introduce the therapeutics and diagnostics in countries that are so poorly prepared.

Those Asian countries affected early include a number that seem to have coped so far in keeping the crisis to a minimum because they had the appropriate therapeutics and diagnostics, despite not having vaccines. A sum of approximately $10 bn from the G20 would be sufficient to cover all these vital areas.

Now consider the economics of social distancing. As soon as it became apparent that our policymakers were heeding the Chinese method of trying to suppress COVID-19, it was immediately obvious that our economies would - at least for a short period - sustain the collapse of GDP that China self-imposed in February. From industrial production and other regular monthly data, the Chinese economy has declined by around 20%.

It is quite likely many other economies - probably each of the G7 countries - will experience something not too dissimilar in March. And, to stop our complex democracies from further immediate pressure including social disharmony, governments in many countries have needed to undertake dramatic unconventional steps.

Here in the UK, our new chancellor effectively had three budgets within less than a fortnight. And outside of the £330bn loan policy he has announced, at least £50bn worth of economic stimulus has been announced.

Many other G20 countries have undertaken their own versions of what I call 'People’s QE', many of them bigger packages - the US appears to be contemplating a stimulus as much as $2 trillion.

But, for the sake of illustration, if the UK package were the price for three months social distancing and this was repeated across the G20, then the total cost for all G20 countries - adjusted for relative size - would be in the vicinity of $1trillion.

If this isn’t accompanied by steps involving the best therapeutics and diagnostics, and we have to keep everyone isolated for one year, it would become at least $4trillion.

This may be 'back of the envelope' calculations which ignores the almost inevitable challenges for social cohesion in so many nations. But the G20 must spend something around $10bn immediately to put in absolute best standards all over the world, and another $10 bn to kickstart the market for new antibiotics.

This is a version of an article that first appeared in Project Syndicate.

As the COVID-19 pandemic presents the greatest threat to human health in over a century, people turn to their states to resolve the crisis and protect their health, their livelihoods and their future well-being.

How leaders perform and respond to the pandemic is likely to define their premiership - and this therefore presents a tremendous opportunity to write themselves into the history books as a great leader, rescuing their people from a crisis. Just as Winston Churchill did in World War Two.

Following Churchill’s advice to “never let a good crisis go to waste”, if leaders take decisive action now, they may emerge from the COVID-19 crisis as a national hero. What leaders must do quickly is to mitigate the crisis in a way which has a demonstrable impact on people’s lives.

Given the massive shock caused by the pandemic to economies across the world, it is not surprising that heads of state and treasury ministers have implemented enormous economic stimulus packages to protect businesses and jobs – this was to be expected and has been welcome.

National heroes can be made

But, in essence, this remains primarily a health crisis. And one obvious area for leaders to act rapidly is strengthening their nation’s health system to stop the spread of the virus and successfully treat those who have fallen sick. It is perhaps here that leaders have the most to gain - or lose - and where national heroes can be made.

This is particularly the case in countries with weak and inequitable health systems, where the poor and vulnerable often fail to access the services they need. One major practical action that leaders can implement immediately is to launch truly universal, publicly-financed health reforms to cover their entire population – not only for COVID-19 services but for all services.

This would cost around 1-2% GDP in the short-term but is perfectly affordable in the current economic climate, given some of the massive fiscal stimuluses already being planned (for example, the UK is spending 15% GDP to tackle COVID-19).

Within one to two years, this financing would enable governments to implement radical supply side reforms including scaling up health workforces, increasing the supply of essential medicines, diagnostics and vaccines and building new infrastructure. It would also enable them to remove health service user fees which currently exclude hundreds of millions of people worldwide from essential healthcare. Worldwide these policies have proven to be effective, efficient, equitable and extremely popular.

And there is plenty of precedent for such a move. Universal health reform is exactly what political leaders did in the UK, France and Japan as post-conflict states emerging from World War Two. It is also the policy President Kagame launched in the aftermath of the genocide in Rwanda, as did Prime Minister Thaksin in Thailand after the Asian Financial Crisis in 2002, and the Chinese leadership did following the SARS crisis, also in 2003.

In China’s case, reform involved re-socialising the health financing system using around 2% GDP in tax financing to increase health insurance coverage from a low level of one-third right up to 96% of the population.

All these universal health coverage (UHC) reforms delivered massive health and economic benefits to the people - just what is needed now to tackle COVID-19 - and tremendous political benefits to the leaders that implemented them.

When considering the current COVID-19 crisis, this strategy would be particularly relevant for countries underperforming on health coverage and whose health systems are more likely to be overwhelmed if flooded with a surge of patients, such as India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Myanmar, Indonesia and most of sub-Saharan Africa, where many governments spend less than 1% of their GDP on health and most people have to buy services over the counter.

But also the two OECD countries without a universal health system – the United States and Ireland – are seeing the threat of COVID-19 already fuelling the debate about the need to create national, publicly-financed health system. And the presidents of South Africa, Kenya and Indonesia have already committed their governments to eventually reach full population coverage anyway, and so may use this crisis to accelerate their own universal reforms. 

Although difficult to predict which leaders are likely to grasp the opportunity, if some of these countries now fast-track nationwide UHC, at least something good will be coming from the crisis, something which will benefit their people forever. And ensuring everyone accesses the services they need, including public health and preventive services, also provides the best protection against any future outbreaks becoming epidemics.

Every night large audiences are tuning in to press briefings fronted by their heads of state hungry for the latest update on the crisis and to get reassurance that their government’s strategy will bring the salvation they desperately need. To truly improve health security for people across the world, becoming UHC heroes could be the best strategic decision political leaders ever make.

As Lebanon strains to contain COVID-19, it is not clear which governmental public health policies apply to refugees. The government announced free testing for coronavirus in the public Rafiq Hariri University Hospital in Beirut but has not mentioned if refugees are eligible.

Lebanon’s coronavirus containment strategy is based on self-reporting and, given incidents of forced deportation and harassment of Syrian refugees from both the authorities and local communities, it is certainly less likely refugees would present themselves to the health authorities for fear of deportation.

Despite agreeing a Lebanon Crisis Response Plan with the UN for refugees, different ministries were left to implement it without coordination, just as Lebanese politicians from all sides started trying to rally popular support for ridding Lebanon from refugees - in particular from Syria, who Lebanese leaders say are causing a strain on the country’s already weak infrastructure.

This finger pointing is coupled with the leaders’ own complete disregard for the rampant corruption and lack of accountability within Lebanon’s political class, which contribute to the weakening of the country’s infrastructure.

For refugees who do find themselves back in Syria, there are different challenges according to which area they are in. In the north-east, the WHO and international NGOs (INGOs) negotiate with both Kurdish authorities as well as the government - each presenting its own hurdles.

Kurdish authorities in northeast Syria have closed the Semalka border with Iraqi Kurdistan, posing a serious dilemma for INGOs offering services in north-east Syria but concerned about their staff safety whose movement is now curtailed.

The government of Syria has stipulated all emergency response must go through its ministries. But this limits what the WHO can do in the country and gives Syrian authorities the ability to block ‘cross-line aid’ which goes from government-controlled to non-government areas.

Despite reports that doctors raised the alarm about suspected cases well before patient zero was confirmed, the government appears to be either covering up the actual extent of the spread of COVID-19 or failing to respond. Some limited testing kits have arrived but testing has barely started.

The WHO’s Syria plan is divided into three regions (north-west, north-east, and areas under government control). But concerns remain as to how workable such a decentralized plan is because of the government’s practices. In January, the UN Security Council did not renew the cross-border response resolution for the Yaroubiye border crossing between Syria and Iraq that the WHO was using to send medical supplies into north-east Syria.

Syrian authorities do not permit recently authorized ‘cross-line’ responders to engage with non-government authorities in areas outside regime control. This essentially voids the authorization to work cross-line as it is practically impossible to implement programs. The WHO has sought approval from the Syrian Ministry of Foreign Affairs to move medical supplies by land to north-east Syria.

While promising facilitation, the Ministry’s reply comes with conditions of seeking detailed approval for every shipment. When Eastern Ghouta was under siege, similar conditions led to certain supplies being removed from UN/ICRC convoys to Eastern Ghouta, and there is no guarantee this will not happen again.

Due to lack of capacity in north-east Syria, coronavirus tests conducted by the WHO there must be processed through the Central Public Health Laboratory in Damascus. Samples are transported twice a week from Qamishli to Damascus but no results were ever received from Damascus for those tests.

While the WHO is able to coordinate access to north-west Syria with the Turkish authorities, the prospective coronavirus testing capacity in the Idlib region is low – despite claims that thousands of kits are arriving, a lack of resource on the ground means potentially only 20 tests per day could be done in an area inhabited by an estimated three million people.

Following the recently announced ceasefire in the area, many internally displaced people are returning from the Turkish border to their homes in the north-west, but such mass movement increases the risk of coronavirus spreading. People also continue to move between Syria, Iraq, Turkey and Lebanon, posing a challenge to the WHO’s COVID-19 response in the Levant, as the WHO has distinct response plans for each country in the region and it is difficult to coordinate across these plans.

Challenges face refugees even if they head towards Europe due to the potential for conflation between migration control and coronavirus outbreak control. Aurelie Ponthieu, Coordinator for Forced Migration at Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) says there is a risk some countries could use COVID-19 to impose draconian measures towards asylum seekers.

The crisis has also put a halt to search and rescue operations in the Mediterranean because European countries are not allowing boats carrying migrants to disembark under the pretext of limiting the spread of coronavirus. And for migrants who already made it - such as in Greece - they are now being put in collective quarantines in asylum centers, often with poor medical facilities.

Ponthieu also reports that migrants being quarantined on overcrowded navy ships docked in Greek ports, making social distancing impossible. And she is concerned the Greek authorities are imposing a curfew on asylum seekers but not on the local population.

UNHCR is stressing that people’s right of asylum must not be overruled by concerns about the spread of coronavirus, while local and international NGOs across the Levant are trying to coordinate their advocacy on lifting restrictions on freedom of movement for humanitarian workers and on other policies and practices by authorities in the region which are adversely affecting refugee and other vulnerable communities.

The international community must not lose sight of the impact of the crisis on refugees and migrants. It is not enough simply to supply humanitarian and medical assistance without paying attention to the policies and practices of the different authorities who have direct control over the fate of vulnerable communities.

The author would like to thank Aurelie Ponthieu and the two INGO field workers who all agreed to be interviewed to inform this analysis piece.

It is less than a month since we published our research paper on the future of democracy in Europe. But it feels like we now live in a different world. The coronavirus has already killed thousands of people in Europe, led to an unprecedented economic crisis and transformed daily life – and in the process raised difficult new questions about democracy.

The essence of our argument in the paper was that democracy in Europe should be deepened. But now there is a much more basic question about whether democracies can protect their citizens from the pandemic.

There has already been much discussion about whether authoritarian states will emerge stronger from this crisis than democracies. In particular, although the virus originated in China and the government initially seemed to struggle to deal with it, it was able to largely contain the outbreak in Hubei and deploy vast resources from the rest of the country to deal with it.

Come through the worst

China may have come through the worst of the health crisis – though a second wave of infections as restrictions are lifted is possible – and there have already been three times as many deaths in Italy, and twice as many in Spain, as in China (although there is increasing doubt about the accuracy of China’s figures).

However, it is not only authoritarian states that seem so far to have coped relatively well with the virus. In fact, some East Asian democracies appear to have done even better than China. At the time of writing South Korea, with a population of 51.5 million, has had only 144 death rates so far. Taiwan, with a population of nearly 24 million, has had only two deaths.

So rather than thinking in terms of the relative performance of authoritarian states and democracies, perhaps instead we should be asking what we in Europe can learn from East Asian democracies.

It is not yet clear why East Asian democracies were able to respond so effectively, especially as they did not all follow exactly the same approach. Whereas some quickly imposed restrictions on travel (for example, Taiwan suspended flights from China and then prohibited the entry of people from China and other affected countries) and quarantines, others used extensive testing and contact tracing, often making use of personal data collected from citizens.

Whatever the exact strategy they used, though, they did all act quickly and decisively – and the collective memory of the SARS outbreak in 2003 and other recent epidemics seems to have played a role in this. For example, following the SARS outbreak, Taiwan created a central epidemic command center. Europe, meanwhile, was hardly affected by SARS – and we seem to have assumed the coronavirus would be the same (although that does not quite explain why we were still so slow to react in February even after it was clear that the virus had spread to Italy).

However, while the relative success of East Asian democracies may have something to do with this recent experience of epidemics, it may also have something to do with the kind of democracies they are. It may be a simple matter of competence – the bureaucracy in Taiwan and South Korea may function better, and in particular in a more coordinated way, than in many European countries.

But it may also be more than that. In particular, it could be that East Asian democracies have a kind of 'authoritarian residue' that has helped in the initial response to this crisis. South Korea and Taiwan are certainly vibrant democracies – but they are also relatively new democracies compared to many in Europe. As a result, citizens may have a different relationship with the state and be more willing to accept sudden restrictions of freedoms, in particular on movement, and the use of personal data – at least in a crisis.

In that sense, the pandemic may be a challenge not to democracy as such but to liberal democracy in particular – in other words, a system of popular sovereignty together with guaranteed basic rights, such as including freedom of association and expression and checks and balances on executive power. There may now be difficult trade-offs to be made between those basic rights and security – and, after the experience of coronavirus, many citizens may choose security.

This brings us back to the issues we discussed in our research paper. Even before the coronavirus hit, there was already much discussion of a crisis of liberal democracy. In particular, there has been a debate about whether liberalism and democracy, which had long been assumed to go together, were becoming decoupled.

In particular, ‘illiberal democracies’ seemed to be emerging in many places including Europe (although, as we discuss in the paper, some analysts argue that the term is incoherent). This model of ‘illiberal democracy’ – in other words, one in which elections continue to be held but some individual rights are curtailed – may emerge stronger from this new crisis.

It is striking that Singapore – also seen as responding successfully to coronavirus – was seen as a paradigmatic ‘illiberal democracy’ long before Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán embraced the idea. In particular, there is little real opposition to the People’s Action Party, which has been in power since 1959.

Since this new crisis began, Orbán has gone further in suspending rights in Hungary. On March 11, he declared a state of emergency – as many other European countries have also done. But he has now gone further by passing legislation that allows him to govern by decree indefinitely and make it illegal to spread misinformation that undermines the government’s response to the pandemic. Clearly, this is a further decisive step in the deconsolidation of liberal democracy in Hungary.

So far, though, much of the discussion, particularly in the foreign policy world, has focused mainly on how to change popular perceptions that liberal democracies are failing in this crisis. For example, High Representative Josep Borrell, the European Union’s foreign minister, wrote last week of a 'battle of narratives'.

But this misses the point. It is not a matter of spinning the European model, but of taking seriously the substantial questions raised by the coronavirus about the ability of liberal democracies to adequately protect their citizens.

Complex systems models have played a significant role in informing and shaping the public health measures adopted by governments in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic. For instance, modelling carried out by a team at Imperial College London is widely reported to have driven the approach in the UK from a strategy of mitigation to one of suppression.

Complex systems modelling will increasingly feed into policymaking by predicting a range of potential correlations, results and outcomes based on a set of parameters, assumptions, data and pre-defined interactions. It is already instrumental in developing risk mitigation and resilience measures to address and prepare for existential crises such as pandemics, prospects of a nuclear war, as well as climate change.

The human factor

In the end, model-driven approaches must stand up to the test of real-life data. Modelling for policymaking must take into account a number of caveats and limitations. Models are developed to help answer specific questions, and their predictions will depend on the hypotheses and definitions set by the modellers, which are subject to their individual and collective biases and assumptions. For instance, the models developed by Imperial College came with the caveated assumption that a policy of social distancing for people over 70 will have a 75 per cent compliance rate. This assumption is based on the modellers’ own perceptions of demographics and society, and may not reflect all societal factors that could impact this compliance rate in real life, such as gender, age, ethnicity, genetic diversity, economic stability, as well as access to food, supplies and healthcare. This is why modelling benefits from a cognitively diverse team who bring a wide range of knowledge and understanding to the early creation of a model.

The potential of artificial intelligence

Machine learning, or artificial intelligence (AI), has the potential to advance the capacity and accuracy of modelling techniques by identifying new patterns and interactions, and overcoming some of the limitations resulting from human assumptions and bias. Yet, increasing reliance on these techniques raises the issue of explainability. Policymakers need to be fully aware and understand the model, assumptions and input data behind any predictions and must be able to communicate this aspect of modelling in order to uphold democratic accountability and transparency in public decision-making.

In addition, models using machine learning techniques require extensive amounts of data, which must also be of high quality and as free from bias as possible to ensure accuracy and address the issues at stake. Although technology may be used in the process (i.e. automated extraction and processing of information with big data), data is ultimately created, collected, aggregated and analysed by and for human users. Datasets will reflect the individual and collective biases and assumptions of those creating, collecting, processing and analysing this data. Algorithmic bias is inevitable, and it is essential that policy- and decision-makers are fully aware of how reliable the systems are, as well as their potential social implications.

The age of distrust

Increasing use of emerging technologies for data- and evidence-based policymaking is taking place, paradoxically, in an era of growing mistrust towards expertise and experts, as infamously surmised by Michael Gove. Policymakers and subject-matter experts have faced increased public scrutiny of their findings and the resultant policies that they have been used to justify.

This distrust and scepticism within public discourse has only been fuelled by an ever-increasing availability of diffuse sources of information, not all of which are verifiable and robust. This has caused tension between experts, policymakers and public, which has led to conflicts and uncertainty over what data and predictions can be trusted, and to what degree. This dynamic is exacerbated when considering that certain individuals may purposefully misappropriate, or simply misinterpret, data to support their argument or policies. Politicians are presently considered the least trusted professionals by the UK public, highlighting the importance of better and more effective communication between the scientific community, policymakers and the populations affected by policy decisions.

Acknowledging limitations

While measures can and should be built in to improve the transparency and robustness of scientific models in order to counteract these common criticisms, it is important to acknowledge that there are limitations to the steps that can be taken. This is particularly the case when dealing with predictions of future events, which inherently involve degrees of uncertainty that cannot be fully accounted for by human or machine. As a result, if not carefully considered and communicated, the increased use of complex modelling in policymaking holds the potential to undermine and obfuscate the policymaking process, which may contribute towards significant mistakes being made, increased uncertainty, lack of trust in the models and in the political process and further disaffection of citizens.

The potential contribution of complexity modelling to the work of policymakers is undeniable. However, it is imperative to appreciate the inner workings and limitations of these models, such as the biases that underpin their functioning and the uncertainties that they will not be fully capable of accounting for, in spite of their immense power. They must be tested against the data, again and again, as new information becomes available or there is a risk of scientific models becoming embroiled in partisan politicization and potentially weaponized for political purposes. It is therefore important not to consider these models as oracles, but instead as one of many contributions to the process of policymaking.

On March 23 to 24, the centre of Mocimboa da Praia in Cabo Delgado province was occupied by up to 40 “jihadists”, who targeted government facilities, including a barracks, and brandished banners of affiliation to the so-called Islamic State.

On March 25, suspected jihadists raided the town of Quissanga and destroyed the district police headquarters. They too carried an Islamic State flag. Twenty to 30 members of Mozambique’s security forces were killed in both attacks.

Mocimboa da Praia is just south of the Afungi Peninsula, the location of gas projects worth $60- billion. Mocimboa was briefly occupied in late 2017, during attacks claimed by a group known as Ahlu Sunnah Wa-Jama (or al-Sunnah) that marked the start of a brutal low-intensity conflict, with widespread human rights abuses and attacks on civilians.

Up to 1,000 people have now been killed and 100,000 displaced. More recently, The Islamic State Central Africa Province (Iscap), affiliated with the Islamic State group, has claimed responsibility for the attacks. Video and photos of these most recent events, along with the testimony of frightened residents and overstretched government officials, suggest a shift of strategy by the insurgents.

There seems to have been an effort to avoid harming civilians, to win hearts and minds by redistributing stolen food, medicine and fuel to “loyal” residents, and to direct attacks on the state and its symbols, such as police stations and military barracks. It is difficult from a distance to assess if there was any genuine pleasure over these attacks among local people; while residents in both towns that did not flee seemed to welcome the attackers, this may well have been out of fear that the government is currently unable to guarantee their security.

These attacks also indicate that the jihadist-linked insurgents are growing in confidence. They are confronting government security forces with little appetite for fighting. The Mozambican government has been expecting setbacks like those of Mocimboa and Quissanga — its forces are demoralised and many commanders exhausted or corrupted by an emerging war economy. Jihadists are also taking tactical advantage before a reformed and more effective government counterinsurgency effort is introduced in response.

President Filipe Nyusi, inaugurated in January for his second term, has made this crisis his prime focus and has become the de-facto minister of defence.

Military reform and the role of private military companies

But there is no quick fix. Most importantly, the Mozambican military and security forces need to be restructured. They were unable to win the Mozambican civil war (1977-1992), even with international support, and have not improved in capacity or conduct since. They now face a complex, multilayered and asymmetrical conflict, mostly drawing upon local and regional grievances and networks but increasingly also attracting some limited encouragement and advice from further afield.

Nyusi will need to build-up trusted relationships in the military in the way he has successfully done with parts of the intelligence community. The Mozambican government has already reached out to international expertise — though not necessarily the right kind. The founder of the Blackwater private military company, Erik Prince, supplied two helicopters and support crew for the Mozambican military in mid-2019, before being replaced by some 170 Russian privateers linked to the Wagner Group.

The Wagner contingent arrived in September 2019 at Nacala airport with trucks, drones and a Mi-17 helicopter gunship, then deployed into the combat zone of northern Cabo Delgado. Setbacks, including at least two dead Russians, forced a tactical fallback to Nacala, though a new effort is reported to have been underway since late February 2020.

The Mozambican government is also considering a number of proposals from other private military companies. Maputo needs to consider these carefully; Israeli or Gulf State involvement in any form might exasperate rather than alleviate this crisis.

The Tanzanian connection

But market-led security and military providers will not end this insurgency. Nor will the engagement of states such as the United States, France, the United Kingdom or Angola, all of which have made their own offers of support. What would significantly make a difference is much closer to home: serious Tanzanian engagement.

This insurgency is concentrated in districts bordering Tanzania and there is clear-cut intelligence of connections into Tanzania and beyond. Swahili is also a lingua franca for the jihadists, connecting them up the East African coast, and into eastern Congo and elsewhere.

It is puzzling, given the deep shared history between Tanzania and Mozambique, that the bilateral relationship is as patchy as it is today: during the liberation struggle (1965-1974) against the Portuguese, Mozambique’s ruling party Frelimo maintained rear bases in Tanzania, and Nyusi was educated there.

Conspiracy theories circulate that Tanzania has encouraged the Cabo Delgado insurgency to weaken its neighbour, or at least displace radicalised individuals from Tanzanian soil into Mozambique.

President John Magafuli of Tanzania did not attend the January inauguration of Nyusi. It has become urgent that Magafuli (who is also the current chair of the regional body, the Southern African Development Community) and Nyusi meet face-to-face to map out improved intelligence sharing and a joint strategy to respond to an emerging regional threat.

Southern Africa is locking down because of Covid-19, which will distract the government’s ability to focus fully on this crisis and create a perfect moment for the infant insurgency in Cabo Delgado to grow. More military setbacks should be expected in coming months.

But the Mozambican government can still contain and prevail if it seriously reforms its military, builds strong alliances with its regional neighbours (especially Tanzania), chooses its private security contractors and international partnerships wisely, and backs military efforts with better intelligence and developmental interventions that offer alternative pathways to potential recruits.

But despite Maputo’s hope that significant progress will be made over the coming year, and the setting up of a presidential task force to evaluate progress and intelligence, it is likely that Mozambique and its partners will need to prepare themselves for a drawn-out struggle.

This article originally appeared in the Mail & Guardian

As tentative evidence emerges that Italy and Spain may have reached - or are close to - the peak of the curve, this could demonstrate that not only can Asian countries get to grips with COVID-19, but so can western democracies. And, if so, this offers a path for the rest of us.

The last few weeks does demonstrate there is a role for governments to intervene in society, whether it be health, finance or any walk of life, as they have had to implement social distancing. Some have been forced, and the interventions are almost definitely only temporary, but perhaps some others may be less so.

Governments of all kinds now realise there is a connection between our health system quality and our economic capability. On an index of global economic sustainability that I presided over creating when I was at Goldman Sachs, the top ten best performing countries on growth environment scores includes eight of the best performing ten countries - so far- in handling the crisis in terms of deaths relative to their population.

Health system quality

The top three on the index (last calculated in 2014) were Singapore, Hong Kong and South Korea, all of which are exemplary to the rest of us on how to deal with this mess. This suggests that once we are through this crisis, a number of larger populated countries - and their international advisors such as the IMF - might treat the quality of countries' health systems just as importantly as many of the other more standard indicators in assessing ability to deal with shocks.

Policymakers have also been given a rather stark warning about other looming health disasters, especially antimicrobial resistance, of which antibiotic resistance lies at the heart. An independent review I chaired recommended 29 interventions, requiring $42 bn worth of investment, essentially peanuts compared to the costs of no solution, and the current economic collapse from COVID-19. It would seem highly likely to me that policymakers are going to treat this more seriously now.

As a clear consequence of the - hopefully, temporary - global economic collapse, our environment suddenly seems to be cleaner and fresher and, in this regard, we have bought some time in the battle against climate change. Surely governments are going to be able to have a bigger influence on fossil fuel extractors and intense users as we emerge from this crisis?

For any industries requiring government support, the government can make it clear this is dependent on certain criteria. And surely the days of excessive use of share buy backs and extreme maximisation of profit at the expense of other goals, are over?

It seems to me an era of 'optimisation' of a number of business goals is likely to be the mantra, including profits but other things too such as national equality especially as it relates to income. Here in the UK, the government has offered its strongest fiscal support to the lower end of the income earning range group and, in a single swoop, has presided over its most dramatic step towards narrowing income inequality for a long time.

This comes on top of a period of strong initiatives to support higher levels of minimum earnings, meaning we will emerge later in 2020, into 2021, and beyond, with lower levels of income inequality.

The geographic issue of rural versus urban is also key. COVID-19 has spread more easily in more tightly packed cities such as London, New York and many others. More geographically remote places, by definition, are better protected. Perhaps now there will be some more thought given by policymakers to the quality and purpose of life outside our big metropolitan areas.

Lastly, will China emerge from this crisis by offering a mammoth genuine gesture to the rest of the world, and come up, with, unlike, in 2008, a fiscal stimulus to its own consumers, that is geared towards importing a lot of things from the rest of the world? Now that would be good way of bringing the world back together again.

This is a version of an article originally published in The Article

In Morocco, the COVID-19 pandemic has increased public trust in government, but people still have doubts about the effectiveness of the healthcare system. According to a recent study conducted by the Moroccan Institute for Policy Analysis (MIPA), the majority of Moroccans surveyed are generally satisfied with the measures taken by the government to battle the coronavirus. However, the same survey also shows that Moroccans do not have confidence in the healthcare sector’s ability to respond to this pandemic.

The positive perceptions of the government’s response can be explained by the swift and strict measures enacted. King Mohammed VI held a high-level meeting with the prime minister, the minister of health, and top security officials on 17 March and a few days later, on 20 March, the Moroccan government declared a state of health emergency and began to implement aggressive measures to contain the virus.

This has included closing airports, schools, mosques, cafés and shops – with the exception of food markets – preventing large gatherings, as well as strict guidelines to ensure social distancing. As of 2 April, nearly 5000 people have been arrested for violating the state of health emergency.

In order to address urgent medical needs and to mitigate the economic impact of the pandemic, the King ordered the creation of an emergency fund, raising more than 32.7 billion Moroccan Dirhams ($3.2 billion). The Ministry of Finance will begin to make cash transfers to vulnerable citizens, and especially those who have lost their jobs. However, the stipulations surrounding these cash transfers will be decided in the coming weeks.

Updates about the virus are communicated daily by the Ministry of Health, despite growing criticism of its communication strategy. As of 4 April, Moroccan authorities have confirmed 883 cases and 58 deaths.

Call for national unity

In times like these, there is a call for unity in the face of a national and global crisis, and opposition groups such as Adl wal Ihssan and Rif activists have expressed their support for government measures and have encouraged people to follow the new guidelines and restrictions. However, despite calls to release political prisoners, Moroccan authorities have not indicated that they will do so. This is a missed opportunity vis-à-vis the opposition because it could have served as a way to further strengthen national unity during the crisis.

These are all promising signs and point to what is likely to be a short-term burst in unity and institutional trust. However, the institutional weaknesses in governance and the healthcare system have not disappeared, which is why this increase in institutional trust should be taken with a grain of salt.

Public trust issues

This pandemic poses tremendous challenges for governments across the globe, and this holds especially true for states in the Middle East and North Africa region, where citizens do not approve of government performance and do not trust key state institutions. The 2019 Arab Barometer survey found that Moroccans do not trust most of the country’s political institutions (notably the parliament and the Council of Ministers) and the level of satisfaction with the government’s performance remains extremely low.

On the public health front, as shown in two of MIPA’s recent surveys, trust in the healthcare system is also very low. Around three-quarters of those surveyed do not trust Moroccan hospitals, highlighting the acute structural problems in the healthcare system. In fact, there is a stark divide between private and public healthcare, as well as a huge gap in access to healthcare facilities between urban and rural areas. Most of the country’s hospitals and doctors are located in major urban areas and the only three laboratories with capabilities for COVID-19 testing are located in Rabat and Casablanca, but even there, testing capacity is very limited.

Similar to other countries, there could be a major shortage of doctors and medical equipment throughout Morocco. So far, the Ministry of Finance has said that 2 billion dirhams of the emergency fund will go towards purchasing medical equipment such as beds, ventilators, tests, prevention kits and radiology equipment, but the timeline remains unclear.

A vulnerable economy

There is significant concern about the medium- and long-term economic impact of the virus. Two of the country’s key economic sectors have already been hit hard: agriculture and tourism. The agricultural sector was already struggling due to the impact of drought, while the coronavirus pandemic is likely to impact Morocco’s tourism industry not just this year, but well into 2021. In terms of government response, the emergency fund is a strong start, but questions surrounding the management of these funds have already been raised.

The most vulnerable parts of the population have been affected by the economic crisis because of the country’s bulging informal sector – in which most people work - and a very weak private sector. In fact, two-thirds of the workforce are not covered by a pension plan, almost half of the working population does not currently benefit from medical coverage and there is no social care system for vulnerable parts of the population. As of 1 April, more than 700,000 workers have lost their jobs.

Moving forward?

Even if public perceptions of the government’s response are positive at the moment, this is most likely a short-term surge that should not be taken for granted. Despite the efforts made by the government, Morocco’s health system is not equipped to handle this crisis. Even with the new measures that have been implemented, if the spread of the virus gets out of control, more funds, more doctors, and more equipment will be needed. Given the structural weaknesses of the healthcare system, this will be an uphill battle.

Moreover, even if the government manages to mitigate the public health impact, the economic consequences will be dire—especially in the tourism industry—and will severely hurt those workers in the informal sector who are living without a safety net. In Morocco, this category represents most of the working population.

This crisis highlights that the Moroccan government must urgently tackle its large portfolio of unfinished reforms, notably in healthcare, the economy, and labour rights. So far, the government is capitalizing on the spirit of unity, social solidarity and public support. The future trajectory of the pandemic and the effectiveness of governance will determine if this spirit of solidarity will last. If the government fails to effectively mitigate the public health and economic impacts of this pandemic, this solidarity and cooperation will not last long.

As the US surgeon general warns Americans to brace for ‘our Pearl Harbor moment’, the US faces a week in which it may see the worst of the global pandemic. The absence of US leadership at the global level has enabled the Security Council’s inaction. And at the G7, President Trump actively obstructed efforts to agree a joint statement.

US efforts to increase its support of international aid to the tune of $274million are minimal, not least in light of a 50% reduction in its support for the World Health Organization (WHO) and radically diminished support for other global health programmes as well. International coordination is essential to mitigate unregulated competition for critical medical supplies, manage border closures, and guarantee international economic stability.

True, it won’t be possible to control the epidemic at home if the global effort to defeat the pandemic fails. But the absence of leadership from Washington at home is palpable. And what happens at home sets a natural limit on America’s internationalism.

Both solution and problem

In response to the coronavirus crisis, the US state is proving to be a solution - and a problem. The dramatic response to the economic crisis is evident with the $2.3trillion stimulus package signed into law by President Trump boldly supported by both Democrats and Republicans in the most significant piece of bipartisan legislation passed in decades.

America’s political economy is unrecognisable, moving left and looking increasingly more European each week as Congress and the executive branch agree a series of stimulus packages designed to protect citizens and businesses. Some elements of this legislation were more familiar to Americans, notably $200bn in corporate tax breaks.

But Congress also agreed unemployment insurance, and cheques - one in April, one in May – to be sent directly to those Americans most directly hit by the economic impact of COVID-19. In effect, this is adopting a temporary universal basic income.

The stimulus plan also dedicated $367bn to keep small businesses afloat for as long as the economy is shuttered. Already the government is negotiating a fourth stimulus package, but the paradox is that without rigorous steps to halt the health crisis, no level of state intervention designed to solve the economic response will be sufficient.

The scale of the state’s economic intervention is unprecedented, but it stands in stark contrast to Washington’s failure to coordinate a national response to America’s health crisis. An unregulated market for personal protective equipment and ventilators is driving up competition between cities, states, and even the federal government.

In some cases, cities and states are reaching out directly beyond national borders to international organisations, foreign firms and even America’s geopolitical competitors as they search for suppliers. In late March, the city of New York secured a commitment from the United Nations to donate 250,000 protective face masks.

Now Governor Cuomo has announced New York has secured a shipment of 140 ventilators from the state of Oregon, and 1,000 ventilators from China. The Patriots even sent their team plane to China to pick up medical supplies for the state of Massachusetts. And following a phone call between President Putin and President Trump, Russia sent a plane with masks and medical equipment to JFK airport in New York.

Networks of Chinese-Americans in the United States are rapidly mobilising their networks to access supplies and send them to doctors and nurses in need. And innovative and decisive action by governors, corporates, universities and mayors drove America’s early response to coronavirus.

This was critical to slowing the spread of COVID-19 by implementing policies that rapidly drove social distancing. But the limits of decentralized and uncoordinated action are now coming into sharp focus. President Trump has so far refused to require stay-at-home orders across all states, leaving this authority to individual governors. Unregulated competition has driven up prices with the consequence that critical supplies are going to the highest bidder, not those most in need.

Governor Cuomo’s call for a nationwide buying consortium has so far gone unheeded and, although the Federal Emergency Management Agency has attempted to deliver supplies to states most in need, the Strategic National Stockpile is depleting fast. Without critical action, the federal government risks hindering the ability of cities and states to get the supplies they need.

But President Trump is reluctant to fully deploy his powers under the Defense Production Act (DPA). In March, he did invoke the DPA to require certain domestic manufacturers to produce ventilators. But calls for it to be used to require manufacturers to produce PPE (personal protective equipment), control costs, and manage allocations has so far gone unheeded by a president generally opposed to state interventions for managing the economy.

It is true that federalism and a deep belief in competition are critical to the fabric of US history and politics, and innovations made possible by market values of entrepreneurism and competition cannot be underestimated. In the search for a vaccine, this could still prove to be key.

But with current estimates that more Americans will die from coronavirus than were killed in the Korean and Vietnam wars combined, it is clear now is the time to reimagine and reinvent the role of the American state.

In the absence of a coordinated effort driven by the White House, governors are working together to identify the areas of greatest need. Whether this will lead to a recasting of the American state and greater demand for a deeper and more permanent social safety net is a key question in the months ahead.

In the short-term the need for coordinated state action at the national level is self-evident. US leadership globally, to manage the health crisis and its economic impacts, is also vital. But this is unlikely to be forthcoming until America gets its own house in order.

Iraq is a country already in turmoil, suffering fallout from the major military escalation between the US and Iran, mass protests calling for an end to the post-2003 political system, and a violent government crackdown killing more than 600 and wounding almost 30,000 - all presided over by a fragmented political elite unable to agree upon a new prime minister following Adil abd al-Mehdi’s resignation back in November.

COVID-19 introduces yet another threat to the fragile political order, as the virus exposes Iraq’s ineffective public health system dismantled through decades of conflict, corruption and poor governance.

Iraqi doctors are making every effort to prepare for the worst-case scenario, but they do so with huge structural challenges. The Ministry of Health lacks enough ICU beds, human resources, ventilators, and personal protective equipment (PPE). Bogged down in bureaucracy, the ministry is struggling to process procurements of equipment and medications, and some doctors have made purchases themselves.

But individual efforts can only go so far as many Iraqi doctors are concerned the official numbers of confirmed COVID-19 cases do not reflect the complexity of the situation on the ground.

The ministry relies predominately upon patients self-presenting at designated public hospitals and has only just begun community-based testing in areas of suspected clusters. Reliance on self-presentation requires a level of trust between citizens and state institutions, which is at a historic low. This gap in trust – 17 years in the making – puts Iraq’s COVID-19 response particularly at risk.

Iraq’s myriad vulnerabilities

Certain social and political factors leave Iraq uniquely exposed to the coronavirus. The country’s vulnerability is tied directly to its social, religious and economic interconnections with Iran, an epicenter of the pandemic.

Exchanges between Iran and Iraq are concentrated in two regions, with strong cross-border links between Iraqi and Iranian Kurds in the north-east, and Iraqi and Iranian Shia pilgrims in the south. Cross-border circulation of religious pilgrims is particularly concerning, as they can result in mass ritual gatherings.

The high number of confirmed cases in the southern and northern peripheries of the country puts a spotlight on Iraq's failure in managing healthcare. The post-2003 government has failed to either rebuild a robust centralized healthcare system, or to pave the way for a federalized model.

Caught in an ambiguous middle between a centralized and federalized model, coordination across provinces and hospitals during the coronavirus crisis has neither reflected strong management from Baghdad nor robust ownership at the governorate level.

This problem is part of a wider challenge of managing centre-periphery relations and federalism, which since 2003 has not worked effectively. Baghdad has provided all 18 provinces with instructions on testing and treatment, but only a handful have enough resources to put them into practice. Advanced testing capacity is limited to the five provinces with WHO-approved centers, with the remaining 13 sending swabs to Baghdad.

But the greatest challenge to Iraq’s COVID-19 response is the dramatic deterioration of state-society relations. Studies reveal a profound societal distrust of Iraq’s public healthcare institutions, due to corruption and militarization of medical institutions. Numerous videos have recently circulated of families refusing to turn over sick members - particularly women - to medical teams visiting households with confirmed or suspected cases.

As medical anthropologist Omar Dewachi notes, the ‘moral economy of quarantine’ in Iraq is heavily shaped by a history of war and its impact on the relationship between people and the state. Although local and international media often interpret this reluctance to undergo quarantine as a matter of social or tribal norms, distrusting the state leads many families to refuse quarantine because they believe it resembles a form of arrest.

The management of coronavirus relies upon an overt convergence between medical institutions and security forces as the federal police collaborate with the Ministry of Health to impose curfews and enforce quarantine. This means that, troublingly, the same security establishment which violently cracked down on protesters and civil society activists is now the teeth behind Iraq’s COVID-19 response.

Without trust between society and the political class, civil society organizations and protest movements have directed their organizational structure towards awareness-raising across Iraq. Key religious authorities such as Grand Ayatollah Sistani have called for compliance to the curfew and mobilized charitable institutions.

However, such efforts will not be enough to make up for the lack of governance at the level of the state. In the short-term, Iraq’s medical professionals and institutions are in dire need of technical and financial support. In the long-term, COVID-19 is a lesson that Iraq’s once robust public healthcare system needs serious investment and reform.

COVID-19 may prove to be another catalyst challenging the ‘muddle through’ logic of the Iraqi political elite. International actors have largely been complicit in this logic, directing aid and technical support towards security forces and political allies in the interest of short-term stability, and neglecting institutions which Iraqis rely on for health, education, and well-being.

The response to the crisis requires cooperation and buy-in of a population neglected by 17 years of failed governance. This is a seminal event that may push the country to the brink, exposing and stirring underlying tensions in state-society relations.

This analysis was produced as part of the Iraq Initiative.

The COVID-19 epidemic has hit every aspect of American life. The upcoming November general elections will not be immune to the virus’ impact and may be scheduled to happen while the pandemic remains active, or has returned.

There is a danger the epidemic forces change to the way voting takes place this fall, amplifying risks around election security and voter suppression that ultimately undermine the integrity of the elections.

This is further highlighted by the US Supreme Court’s last-minute ruling along ideological lines to restrict an extension on the absentee voting period in the Wisconsin Democratic presidential primary despite the level of infections in the state, forcing voters into a trade-off between their health and their right to vote. The US could be thrown into a political crisis in addition to the health and economic crises it already faces.

Bipartisan sentiment

While France, Chile and Bolivia have already postponed elections in the wake of COVID-19, there is a bipartisan sentiment that the US elections should be held as scheduled on the Tuesday after the first Monday in November. This is enshrined not only in America’s sense of itself – having weathered elections during a civil war, a world war and heightened terrorist alert before – but also in its federal law since 1845.

Despite increasing appetite for federal elections to go ahead in November, there are serious vulnerabilities, which are already becoming visible as connections are drawn between mail-in voting and voter fraud, greater voter access and disadvantages for the Republican party, and city polling closures and Democratic voter suppression.

Concerns around voting access have gained the most attention. If voting in-person is untenable or risky (especially for vulnerable health populations), voters must have alternative means to cast ballots.

During negotiations for the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act, the Democratic caucus in the House of Representatives proposed $4 billion in state election grants and a nationally-mandated period for early voting and no-excuse absentee voting.

But the final CARES Act sidestepped the access question and stripped funding to $400 million for election security grants to ‘prevent, prepare for, and respond to coronavirus, domestically or internationally, for the 2020 Federal election cycle’. Without knowing exactly what is in store from a cyber-threat perspective, the actual cost for basic election security upgrades is estimated to be $2.1billion. And that is a pre-COVID-19 calculation.

With social-distanced voters likely to be getting more election information than ever from social media, information security is critical to prevent influence from untrustworthy sources. And opportunities for cyber intrusions are likely to increase as states transition to greater virtual registration, plus absentee and mail-in balloting.

This will open new doors on well-documented, existing voter suppression efforts. With the Supreme Court clawing back the Voting Rights Act in 2013 - allowing certain states to make changes to election and voting laws without federal pre-clearance - heightened election security requirements, such as exact match campaigns and voter purges, have been used to justify voter suppression.

As more vote remotely in the remaining primaries (many now rescheduled for 2 June) and the November general elections, the added burden on states around verification will only increase temptation to set aside ‘non-compliant’ ballots. Especially as some in the Republican Party, including Donald Trump, have advocated a contested view that higher turnout favours the Democratic Party.

A fundamental principle of US democracy is that losers of elections respect the result, but history shows that election results have been contested. In 2000, it took weeks for a result to be confirmed in the presidential election. More recently, in the 2018 race for governor in Georgia, allegations of voter suppression raised questions about the validity of the eventual result.

Without proper access, security, and verification the electoral process – whenever it takes place – will become vulnerable to questions of integrity. The federal response to the initial spread of COVID-19 saw costly delays which pushed the US into a public health crisis and economic contraction.

Any narrative thread of election illegitimacy with November’s elections will further pull apart the fabric of a country already frayed by coronavirus. Federal and state authorities must start planning now for how the US will hold elections in the midst - or immediate aftermath - of COVID-19.

International criminal justice provides a stark reminder that state sovereignty is not an absolute, and that the world’s most heinous crimes should be prosecuted at an international level, particularly where domestic systems lack the capacity or will to hold perpetrators to account. 

The post-Cold War period witnessed a dramatic rise in the number of international tribunals with jurisdiction over war crimes and serious human rights abuses in countries including Cambodia, East Timor, Rwanda, Liberia, Sierra Leone and Yugoslavia. With these processes approaching, or having reached the end of their dockets, many have called for the creation of new tribunals to address more recent conflicts, including the army crackdown in Myanmar in 2017 that resulted in evidence of crimes against humanity against the Rohingya. 

In January this year, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) imposed emergency provisional measures on Myanmar, instructing it to prevent genocidal violence against its Rohingya minority. But a final judgement is expected to take years and the ICJ has no way of enforcing these interim measures. Myanmar has already responded defiantly to international criticism. 

Model for justice

Myanmar is not the first country to face scrutiny for such crimes in Southeast Asia. The Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC), more commonly known as the Khmer Rouge Tribunal was established in 1997 to prosecute Khmer Rouge leaders for alleged violations of international law and serious crimes perpetrated during the Cambodian genocide. This provides an opportunity to consider whether the Tribunal can act as a ‘hybrid’ model for justice in the region. 

The first lesson that can be taken from the Cambodian context is that the state must have the political will and commitment to pursue accountability. It was indeed the Cambodian government itself, who requested international assistance from the United Nations (UN), to organize a process for holding trials. The initial recommendation of the UN-commissioned Group of Experts was for the trial to be held under UN control, in light of misgivings about Cambodia’s judicial system. Prime Minister Hun Sen rejected this assessment and in prolonged negotiations, continued to spearhead the need for domestic involvement (arguably, in order to circumscribe the search for justice). This eventually resulted in the creation of a hybrid body consisting of parallel international and Cambodian judges and prosecutors with supermajority decision-making rules.   

It is worth noting that the Hun Sen government initially chose to do business with former Khmer Rouge leaders, until it became more advantageous to embrace a policy of putting them on trial. It is possible to infer from this that there will be no impetus for action in Myanmar until it is domestically advantageous to do so. At present, this appetite is clearly lacking, demonstrated by de-facto leader Aung San Suu Kyi shying away from accountability and instead defending the government’s actions before the ICJ.

One unique aspect of the Khmer Rouge Tribunal has been the vast participation by the Cambodian people in witnessing the trials as well as widespread support for the tribunal. This speaks to the pent-up demand in Cambodia for accountability and the importance of local participation. While international moral pressure is clear, external actors cannot simply impose justice for the Rohingya when there is no domestic incentive or support to pursue this. The reality is that the anti-Rohingya campaign has galvanized popular support from the country’s Buddhist majority. What is more, the Rohingya are not even seen as part of Myanmar so there is an additional level of disenfranchisement.

Secondly, the Cambodian Tribunal illustrates the need for safeguards against local political interference. The ECCC was designed as national court with international participation. There was an agreement to act in accordance with international standards of independence and impartiality, but no safeguards in place against serious deficiencies in the Cambodian judicial system. Close alliances between judges and the ruling Cambodian People’s Party, as well as high levels of corruption meant the tribunal effectively gave Hun Sen’s government veto power over the court at key junctures. Despite the guise of a hybrid structure, the Cambodian government ultimately retained the ability to block further prosecutions and prevent witnesses from being called. 

In Myanmar, political interference could be a concern, but given there is no popular support for justice and accountability for crimes committed against the Rohingya, the prospects of a domestic or hybrid process remain unlikely. However, there are still international options. The investigation by the International Criminal Court (ICC) into crimes that may have taken place on the Myanmar–Bangladesh border represents a potential route for justice and accountability. The UN Human Rights Council has also recently established the Independent Investigative Mechanism for Myanmar (IIMM), mandated to collect and preserve evidence, as well as to prepare files for future cases before criminal courts.

Finally, the Cambodian case illustrates the culture of impunity in the region. The ECCC was conceived partly as a showcase for international standards of justice, which would have a ‘contagion effect’ upon the wider Cambodian and regional justice systems. 

Cambodia was notorious for incidents in which well-connected and powerful people flouted the law. This culture of impunity was rooted in the failure of the government to arrest, try and punish the Khmer Rouge leadership. The Tribunal, in holding perpetrators of the worst crimes to account, sought to send a clear signal that lesser violations would not be tolerated in the same way. Arguably, it did not achieve this in practice as Cambodia still has a highly politicized judicial system with high levels of corruption and clear limits to judicial independence. 

What this illustrates is that the first step towards accountability is strengthening domestic institutions. The United Nation’s Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in Myanmar has urged domestic authorities to embrace democracy and human rights, highlighting the need to reform the judicial system in order to ensure judicial independence, remove systemic barriers to accountability and build judicial and investigatory capacity in accordance with international standards. Based on this assessment, it is clear that domestic institutions are currently insufficiently independent to pursue accountability.

The ECCC, despite its shortcomings, does stand as proof that crimes against humanity will not go completely unpunished. However, a process does not necessarily equal justice. The region is littered with justice processes that never went anywhere: Indonesia, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. International recourse is also challenging in a region with low ratification of the ICC, and the absence of regional mechanisms like the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, the European Court of Human Rights, and the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights (although their remit is not mass atrocity prosecutions). 

The Cambodian case study illustrates the challenges of ensuring justice and accountability within the region. The end of impunity is critical to ensure peaceful societies, but a purely legalistic approach will fail unless it is supported by wider measures and safeguards. It is these challenges, that undermine the prospects for ensuring justice for the Rohingya within Myanmar.

Both Russia and China have mounted combined charm offensives and disinformation campaigns on the back of the pandemic. Shipments of ‘aid’ – reportedly of questionable utility and quality - have gone hand in hand with a concerted effort to deflect any blame from China for the early spread, and an ongoing drive by Russia to undermine states’ confidence and have sanctions lifted.

These concurrent operations have very different objectives, as Russia seeks to subvert international order while China is continuing its bid to demonstrate global leadership - but in both cases, they are seeking long-term gains by exploiting the inattention and distraction of their targets.

Both seek to present themselves as globally responsible stakeholders, but for divergent reasons – especially China which needs the rest of the world to recover and return to stability to ensure its own economic recovery. But despite this, the two campaigns appear superficially similar.

Fertile ground for disinformation

One reason lies in the unique nature of the current crisis. Unlike political issues that are local or regional in nature, COVID-19 affects everybody worldwide. The perceived lack of reliable information about the virus provides fertile ground for information and disinformation campaigns, especially feeding on fear, uncertainty and doubt. But Russia in particular would not be succeeding in its objectives without mis-steps and inattention by Western governments.

Confused reporting on Russia sending medical supplies to the United States showed Moscow taking advantage of a US administration in apparent disarray. Claims Russia was sending ’humanitarian aid’ were only belatedly countered by the US State Department pointing out it had been paid for. Meanwhile the earlier arrival of Russian military equipment in Italy also scored a propaganda victory for Russia, facilitated by curious passivity by the Italian government.

In both cases Russia also achieved secondary objectives. With the United States, Russia scored bonus points by shipping equipment produced by a subsidiary of a company under US sanctions. In the case of Italy, Russian state media made good use of misleading or heavily edited video clips to give the impression of widespread Italian acclaim for Russian aid, combined with disdain for the efforts of the EU.

Beijing’s external information campaigns have sought to deflect or defuse criticism of its early mishandling and misinformation on coronavirus and counter accusations of secrecy and falsifying data while also pursuing an opportunity to exercise soft power. For Moscow, current efforts boost a long-standing and intensive campaign to induce the lifting of sanctions, demonstrating if nothing else that sanctions are indeed an effective measure. Official and unofficial lobbying has intensified in numerous capital cities, and will inevitably find supporters.

But both the aid and the information campaigns are seriously flawed. While appropriate and useful aid for countries that are struggling should of course be welcomed, both Russian and Chinese equipment delivered to Europe has repeatedly been found to be inappropriate or defective. 

Russian photographs of cardboard boxes stacked loose and unsecured in a transport aircraft bound for the United States sparked alarm and disbelief among military and aviation experts - and there has still been no US statement on what exactly was purchased, and whether it was found to be fit for purpose when it arrived.

Reporting from Italy that the Russian equipment delivered there was ‘80% useless’ has not been contradicted by the Italian authorities. In fact, although the Italian sources criticizing Russia remain anonymous it is striking that - President Trump aside - no government has publicly endorsed materials and assistance received from Russia as actually being useful and helpful.

Even in Serbia, with its traditionally close ties with Russia, the only information forthcoming on the activities of the Russian Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Protection Troops and their equipment that arrived on April 3 was from Russian press releases.

Both countries’ strategic communications efforts are similarly fallible. China’s notoriously heavy-handed approach to its critics is of only limited use in the face of such a severe and immediate threat. One suggestion that the virus originated in the US – an early response to US criticism – has already been walked back by the Chinese diplomat who made it.

And Russia continues to be capable of spectacularly misjudging its targets. When investigative journalists looked more closely at the nature of the assistance to Italy, Russia’s official response was rage and personal threats, laying bare the real nature of the campaign and immediately alienating many of those whom Moscow had sought to win over.

Errors and deficiencies such as these provide opportunities to mitigate the worst side-effects of the campaigns. And actions by individuals can also mitigate much of the impact. The most effective disinformation plays on deeply emotional issues and triggers visceral rather than rational reactions.

Advocates of ’informational distancing’ as well as social distancing suggest a tactical pause to assess information calmly, instead of reacting or spreading it further unthinkingly. This approach would bolster not only calm dispassionate assessment of the real impact of Russian and Chinese actions, but also counter spreading of misinformation on the pandemic as a whole - especially when key sources of disinformation are national leaders seeking to politicize or profit from the crisis.

Limitations of Russian and Chinese altruism must be stated clearly and frankly to fill gaps in public understanding. Where help is genuine, it should of course be welcomed: but if it is the case that assistance received from Moscow or Beijing is not appropriate, not useful, or not fit for purpose, this should be acknowledged publicly.

Even without central direction or coordination with other Russian strategic communications efforts, the self-perpetuating Russian disinformation ecosystem continues to push narratives designed to undermine confidence in institutions and their ability to deal with the crisis. This too must continue to be monitored closely and countered where it matters.

In all cases, miscalculations by Russia or China that expose the true intent of their campaigns – no matter how different their objectives might be - should be watched for closely and highlighted where they occur.

Despite the enormity of the present emergency it is not a time for any government to relax its vigilance over longer-term threats. States must not lose sight of manoeuvres seeking to exploit weakness and distraction. If Russia and China emerge from the current crisis with enhanced authority and unjustifiably restored reputations, this will make it still harder to resist their respective challenges to the current rules-based international order in the future.

During this extraordinary global public health emergency, governments must strike the right balance between assertive measures to slow the spread of the virus and protect lives on the one hand, and respect for human autonomy, dignity and equality on the other.

International law already recognises the grave impact of pandemics and other catastrophic events on social order and provides criteria to guide states in their emergency action. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights permits curbs on the right to ‘liberty of movement’ so long as restrictions are provided by law, deemed necessary to protect public health, and consistent with other rights in that treaty.

Freedom of expression and association, and the rights to privacy and family life are also qualified in these terms under international and regional human rights treaties. But, as emphasised in the Siracusa Principles, any limitations must not be applied in an arbitrary or discriminatory way, and must be of limited duration and subject to review.

International law also guarantees the right to the highest attainable standard of health, while states are specifically required to take steps to prevent, treat and control epidemics under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. Even in health emergencies, access to health services must be ensured on a non-discriminatory basis, especially for vulnerable or marginalised groups.

Abuse of coronavirus emergency measures

Many governments have taken pains to craft emergency laws that respect human rights, such as permitting reasonable exceptions to lockdowns for essential shopping and exercise, and making them subject to ongoing parliamentary review and sunset clauses. But even laws that appear to be human rights compliant can still easily be misapplied, as the recent debates about over-zealous policing of people walking and travelling in the UK illustrate.

And disturbing stories are emerging from states where police brutality is entrenched. In Kenya, a 13-year-old boy was reportedly shot on the balcony of his home by police enforcing a coronavirus curfew. Authorities in the Philippines' are allegedly locking those caught defying the curfew in dog cages.

As the recent history of counterterrorism demonstrates, emergency laws tend to be sticky, remaining on the statute books far longer than desirable.

The virus is also proving a powerful accelerant for the current global authoritarian drift which is so detrimental to progress on human rights. Many authoritarian leaders have seized the opportunity to further reduce constraints on their power.

Hungary's prime minister Viktor Orbán has used the pandemic as a pretext for new laws enabling him to rule by decree, completing the country's transition to an elected dictatorship. In Brazil, president Jair Bolsonaro has suspended deadlines for public bodies to reply to freedom of information requests. Iran is the latest of many repressive states in the Middle East to ban the printing and distribution of all newspapers. In China, the government brushed off criticism over ‘disappearances’ of whistleblowers and citizen journalists who questioned its response to the crisis.

Others have exploited the turmoil to undermine justice for human rights abuses - Sri Lanka's president Gotabaya Rajapaksa pardoned one of the only soldiers held accountable for crimes during the country's brutal civil war.

Coronavirus also places liberal values under further strain. Fear is a major driver in the appeal of populist authoritarians and the virus is stoking it. One poll showed 73% of British citizens agreed coronavirus is just the latest sign that the world we live in is increasingly dangerous. Extremists are exploiting these fears to spread hate by blaming the outbreak on ethnic or religious groups, and encouraging those infected to spread it to these groups.

The closure of borders helps reinforce xenophobic tendencies, and high public tolerance of emergency measures could easily spill into normalisation of intrusive digital surveillance and restrictions on liberty for other reasons well into the future.

Disadvantaged groups face a higher level of risk from the crisis. The health of aboriginal Australians is so poor that those aged 50 and above are being urged to stay home, advice otherwise given to those over 70 in the general population. The Moria refugee camp on Lesbos is reporting no soap and just one water tap for 1,300 refugees. In the UK, asylum seekers struggle to self-isolate in shared accommodation and have a daily allowance of just £5.40 for food, medicine and toiletries. Women's rights groups are reporting a spike in domestic violence.

For countries racked by war and extreme poverty, the impact is catastrophic. The virus is set to run rampant in slums, refugee camps and informal settlements where public health systems - if they exist at all - will struggle to cope. And detainees are among the most at risk, with the UN calling for release of political prisoners and anyone detained without sufficient legal basis.

But the crisis has galvanised debate around the right to health and universal health coverage. Many governments have quickly bankrolled generous relief packages which will actually safeguard the socio-economic rights of many, even if they are not being justified in those terms. Portugal and Ireland have rolled back barriers to accessing healthcare for asylum seekers and other marginalised migrants.

The pandemic strikes as many powerful governments have become increasingly nationalistic, undermining or retreating from international rules and institutions on human rights. But as the crisis spreads, the role of well-established international human rights standards in shaping and implementing effective - but also legitimate - measures is becoming ever clearer.

The virus has reminded us of our interconnectedness as human beings and the need for global cooperation to protect our lives and health. This may help to revive popular support for human rights, creating momentum for the efforts to tackle inequality and repression - factors which have made the global impact of coronavirus so much worse than it might have been.

As the COVID-19 crisis roars on, so have debates about China’s role in it. Based on what is known, it is clear that some Chinese officials made a major error in late December and early January, when they tried to prevent disclosures of the coronavirus outbreak in Wuhan, even silencing healthcare workers who tried to sound the alarm.

China’s leaders will have to live with these mistakes, even if they succeed in resolving the crisis and adopting adequate measures to prevent a future outbreak. What is less clear is why other countries think it is in their interest to keep referring to China’s initial errors, rather than working toward solutions.

For many governments, naming and shaming China appears to be a ploy to divert attention from their own lack of preparedness. Equally concerning is the growing criticism of the World Health Organization (WHO), not least by Donald Trump who has attacked the organization - and threatens to withdraw US funding - for supposedly failing to hold the Chinese government to account.

Unhelpful and dangerous

At a time when the top global priority should be to organize a comprehensive coordinated response to the dual health and economic crises unleashed by the coronavirus, this blame game is not just unhelpful but dangerous.

Globally and at the country level, we all desperately need to do everything possible to accelerate the development of a safe and effective vaccine, while in the meantime stepping up collective efforts to deploy the diagnostic and therapeutic tools necessary to keep the health crisis under control.

Given there is no other global health organization with the capacity to confront the pandemic, the WHO will remain at the center of the response, whether certain political leaders like it or not.

Having dealt with the WHO to a modest degree during my time as chairman of the UK’s independent Review on Antimicrobial Resistance (AMR), I can say that it is similar to most large, bureaucratic international organizations.

Like the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the World Bank, and the United Nations, it is not especially dynamic or inclined to think outside the box. But rather than sniping at these organizations from the sidelines, we should be working to improve them.

In the current crisis, we all should be doing everything we can to help both the WHO and the IMF to play an effective, leading role in the global response. As I have argued before, the IMF should expand the scope of its annual Article IV assessments to include national public-health systems, given that these are critical determinants in a country’s ability to prevent or at least manage a crisis like the one we are now experiencing.

I have even raised this idea with IMF officials themselves, only to be told that such reporting falls outside their remit because they lack the relevant expertise. That answer was not good enough then, and it definitely isn’t good enough now.

If the IMF lacks the expertise to assess public health systems, it should acquire it. As the COVID-19 crisis makes abundantly clear, there is no useful distinction to be made between health and finance. The two policy domains are deeply interconnected, and should be treated as such.

In thinking about an international response to today’s health and economic emergency, the obvious analogy is the 2008 global financial crisis which started with an unsustainable US housing bubble, fed by foreign savings owing to the lack of domestic savings in the United States.

When the bubble finally burst, many other countries sustained more harm than the US did, just as the COVID-19 pandemic has hit some countries much harder than it hit China.

And yet not many countries around the world sought to single out the US for presiding over a massively destructive housing bubble, even though the scars from that previous crisis are still visible. On the contrary, many welcomed the US economy’s return to sustained growth in recent years, because a strong US economy benefits the rest of the world.

So, rather than applying a double standard and fixating on China’s undoubtedly large errors, we would do better to consider what China can teach us. Specifically, we should be focused on better understanding the technologies and diagnostic techniques that China used to keep its - apparent - death toll so low compared to other countries, and to restart parts of its economy within weeks of the height of the outbreak.

And for our own sakes, we also should be considering what policies China could adopt to put itself back on a path toward 6% annual growth, because the Chinese economy inevitably will play a significant role in the global recovery.

If China’s post-pandemic growth model makes good on its leaders’ efforts in recent years to boost domestic consumption and imports from the rest of the world, we will all be better off.

This article was originally published in Project Syndicate

The world is currently witnessing how vulnerable existing production and consumption systems are, with the current global health crisis harshly exposing the magnitude of the risks associated with the global economy in its current form, grounded, as it is, in a linear system that uses a ‘take–make–throw away’ approach.

These ‘linear risks’ associated with the existing global supply chain system are extremely high for national economies overly dependent on natural resource extraction and exports of commodities like minerals and metals. Equally vulnerable are countries with large manufacturing sectors of ready-made garments and non-repairable consumer goods for western markets. Furthermore, workers and communities working in these sectors are vulnerable to these changes as a result of disruptive technologies and reduced demand.

In a recently published Chatham House research paper, ‘Promoting a Just Transition to an Inclusive Circular Economy’, we highlight why a circular economy approach presents the world with a solution to old and new global risks – from marine plastic pollution to climate change and resource scarcity.

Taking the long view

So far, action to transition to a circular economy has been slow compared to the current crisis which has mobilized rapid global action. For proponents of transitioning to a circular economy, this requires taking the long view. The pandemic has shown us that global emergencies can fast-forward processes that otherwise might take years, even decades, to play out or reverse achievements which have taken years to accomplish.

In this vein, there are three striking points of convergence between the COVID-19 pandemic and the need to transition to an inclusive circular economy.

Firstly, the current crisis is a stark reminder that the circular economy is not only necessary to ensure long-term resource security but also short-term supplies of important materials. In many cities across the US, the UK and Europe, councils have suspended recycling to focus on essential waste collection services. The UK Recycling Association, for example, has warned about carboard shortages due to disrupted recycling operations with possible shortages for food and medicine packaging on the horizon.

Similarly, in China, most recycling sites were shut during the country’s lockdown presenting implications for global recycling markets with additional concerns that there will be a fibre shortage across Europe and possibly around the world.

Furthermore, worldwide COVID-19 lockdowns are resulting in a resurgence in the use of single-use packaging creating a new wave of plastic waste especially from food deliveries – already seen in China – with illegal waste fly-tipping dramatically increasing in the UK since the lockdown.

In this vein, concerns over the current global health crisis is reversing previous positive trends where many cities had established recycling schemes and companies and consumers had switched to reusable alternatives.

Secondly, the need to improve the working conditions of the people working in the informal circular economy, such as waste pickers and recyclers, is imperative. Many waste materials and recyclables that are being handled and collected may be contaminated as a result of being mixed with medical waste.

Now, more than ever, key workers in waste management, collection and recycling require personal protective equipment and social protection to ensure their safety as well as the continuation of essential waste collection so as not to increase the potential for new risks associated with additional infectious diseases.

In India, almost 450 million workers including construction workers, street vendors and landless agricultural labourers, work in the informal sector. In the current climate, the poorest who are unable to work pose a great risk to the Indian economy which could find itself having to shut down.

Moreover, many informal workers live in make-shift settlements areas such as Asia’s largest slum, Dharavi in Mumbai, where health authorities are now facing serious challenges to contain the spread of the disease. Lack of access to handwashing and sanitation facilities, however, further increase these risks but circular, decentralized solutions could make important contributions to sustainable sanitation, health and improved community resilience.

Thirdly, it is anticipated that in the long term several global supply chains will be radically changed as a result of transformed demand patterns and the increase in circular practices such as urban mining for the recovery and recycling of metals or the reuse and recycling of textile fibres and localized additive manufacturing (e.g. 3D printing).

Many of these supply chains and trade flows have now been already severely disrupted due to the COVID-19 pandemic. For example, the global garment industry has been particularly hard-hit due to the closure of outlets amid falling demand for apparel.

It is important to note, workers at the bottom of these garment supply chains are among the most vulnerable and most affected by the crisis as global fashion brands, for example, have been cancelling orders – in the order of $6 billion in the case of Bangladesh alone. Only after intense negotiations are some brands assuming financial responsibility in the form of compensation wage funds to help suppliers in Myanmar, Cambodia and Bangladesh to pay workers during the ongoing crisis.

In addition, the current pandemic is damaging demand for raw materials thereby affecting mining countries. Demand for Africa’s commodities in China, for example, has declined significantly, with the impact on African economies expected to be serious, with 15 per cent of the world’s copper and 20 per cent of the world’s zinc mines currently going offline. 

A further threat is expected to come from falling commodity prices as a result of the curtailment of manufacturing activity in China particularly for crude oil, copper, iron ore and other industrial commodities which, in these cases, will have direct impacts on the Australian and Canadian mining sectors.

This is all being compounded by an associated decline in consumer demand worldwide. For example, many South African mining companies – leading producers of metals and minerals – have started closing their mining operations following the government’s announcement of a lockdown in order to prevent the transmission of the virus among miners who often work in confined spaces and in close proximity with one another. As workers are laid off due to COVID-19, there are indications that the mining industry will see fast-tracking towards automated mining operations. 

All of these linear risks that have been exposed through the COVID-19 pandemic reinforce the need for a just transition to a circular economy. But while the reduction in the consumption of resources is necessary to achieve sustainability, the social impacts on low- and middle- income countries and their workers requires international support mechanisms.

In addition, the current situation also highlights the need to find a new approach to globalized retail chains and a balance between local and global trade based on international cooperation across global value chains rather than implementation of trade protectionist measures.

In this vein, all of the recovery plans from the global COVID-19 pandemic need to be aligned with the principles of an inclusive circular economy in order to ensure both short-term and long-term resilience and preparedness for future challenges and disruptions.  

Historically, Iraq lay claim to one of the most abundant water supplies in the Middle East. But the flow of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers has reduced by up to 40% since the 1970s, due in part to the actions of neighbouring countries, in particular Turkey, upstream.

Rising temperatures and reduced rainfall due to climate change are also negatively impacting Iraq’s water reserves. Evaporation from dams and reservoirs is estimated to lose the country up to 8 billion cubic metres of water every year.

A threat to peace and stability

Shortages have dried up previously fertile land, increasing poverty in agricultural areas. Shortages have also served to fuel conflict: communities faced with successive droughts and government inertia proved to be easy targets for ISIS recruiters, who lured farmers into joining them by offering money and food to feed their families. Economic hardship for those whose livelihoods relied upon river water has also driven rural to urban migration, putting significant strain on already over-populated towns and cities, exacerbating housing, job and electricity shortages, and widening the gap between haves and have-nots.

But scarcity isn’t the most crucial element of Iraq’s water crisis – contamination is. Decades of local government mismanagement, corrupt practices and a lack of regulation of dumping (it is estimated up to 70% of Iraq’s industrial waste is dumped directly into water) has left approximately three in every five citizens without a reliable source of potable water.

In 2018, 118,000 residents of Basra province were hospitalised with symptoms brought on by drinking contaminated water, which not only put a spotlight on the inadequacies of a crumbling healthcare system but sparked mass protests and a subsequent violent crackdown.

The water crisis is also undermining the stability of the country’s federal governance model, by occasionally sparking disputes between Baghdad and the Kurdistan Regional Government, as well as between governorates in the south.

The crisis is both a symptom and a cause of poor governance. Iraq is stuck in a cycle whereby government inaction causes shortages and contamination, which result in economic losses, reduced food supply, increased prices and widespread poor health. This in turn leads to increasing levels of poverty, higher demand on services and civil unrest, increasing the pressure on a weak, dysfunctional system of government.

What can be done?

The first priority should be modernising existing water-management infrastructure - a relic of a time when the problem was an excess rather than a shortage of water (the last time Iraq’s flood defences were required was 1968). Bureaucratic hurdles, widespread corruption and an endless cycle of other crises taking precedent prevent good initiatives from being implemented or scaled up.

Diversifying energy sources to improve provision is crucial. Baghdad has a sewage treatment plant that originally ran on its own electricity source, but this capacity was destroyed in 1991 and was never replaced. The city continues to suffer from dangerous levels of water pollution because the electricity supply from the grid is insufficient to power the plant. Solar energy has great potential in sun-drenched Iraq to bridge the gaping hole in energy provision, but successive governments have chosen to focus on fossil fuels rather than promoting investment to grow the renewables sector.

Heightened tension with upstream Turkey could turn water into another cause of regional conflict. But, if approached differently, collaboration between Iraq and its neighbour could foster regional harmony.

Turkey’s elevated geography and cooler climate mean its water reserves suffer 75% less evaporation than Iraq’s. Given that Turkey’s top energy priority is the diversification of its supply of imported hydrocarbons, a win-win deal could see Turkey exchange access to its water-management infrastructure for delivery of reduced cost energy supplies from Iraq.

German-French cooperation on coal and steel in the 1950s and the evolution of economic integration that followed might provide a model for how bilateral cooperation over one issue could result in cooperation with other regional players (in this case Iran and Syria) on a range of other issues. This kind of model would need to consider the future of energy, whereby oil and gas would be replaced by solar-power exports.

These solutions have been open to policymakers for years and yet they have taken little tangible action. While there are leaders and bureaucrats with the will to act, effective action is invariably blocked by a complex and opaque political system replete with vested interests in maintaining power and wealth via a weak state and limited services from central government.

Breaking the cycle

To break this cycle, Iraq needs a group of professional and able actors outside of government to work with willing elements of the state bureaucracy as a taskforce to pressure for action and accountability. Publishing the recommendations from a hitherto withheld report produced in the aftermath of Basra’s 2018 heath crisis would be a great start.

In time, this taskforce could champion the prioritisation of water on the national agenda, the implementation of infrastructure upgrades, and hold more productive conversations with neighbour states.

With such a high degree of state fragmentation and dysfunction in Iraq, looking to the central government to provide leadership will not yield results. Engagement with a coalition of non-state actors can begin to address the water crisis and also open a dialogue around new models of governance for other critical issues. This might even be a starting point for rewriting the tattered social contract in Iraq.

This piece is based on insights and discussion at a roundtable event, Conflict and the Water Crisis in Iraq, held at Chatham House on March 9 as part of the Iraq Initiative.

With the IMF forecasting a 6.1% fall in advanced economy GDP in 2020 and world trade expected to contract by 11%, there is intense focus on the question of how and when to re-open economies currently in lockdown.

But no ‘opening up’ plan has a chance of succeeding unless it commands the confidence of all the main actors in the economy – employees, consumers, firms, investors and local authorities.

Without public confidence, these groups may follow official guidance only sporadically; consumers will preserve cash rather than spend it on goods and services; employees will delay returning to work wherever possible; businesses will face worsening bottlenecks as some parts of the economy open up while key suppliers remain closed; and firms will continue to delay many discretionary investment and hiring decisions.

Achieving public confidence

Taken together, these behaviours would substantially reduce the chances of a strong economic bounce-back even in the absence of a widespread second wave of infections. Five key steps are needed to achieve a high degree of public confidence in any reopening plan.

First, enough progress must be made in suppressing the virus and in building public health capacity so the public can be confident any new outbreak will be contained without reverting to another full-scale lockdown. Moreover, the general public needs to feel that the treatment capacity of the health system is at a level where the risk to life if someone does fall ill with the virus is at an acceptably low level.

Achieving this requires the government to demonstrate the necessary capabilities - testing, contact tracing, quarantine facilities, supplies of face masks and other forms of PPE (personal protective equipment) - are actually in place and can be sustained, rather than relying on future commitments. It also needs to be clear on the role to be played going forward by handwashing and other personal hygiene measures.

Second, the authorities need to set out clear priorities on which parts of the economy are to open first and why. This needs to take account of both supply side and demand side factors, such as the importance of a particular sector to delivering essential supplies, a sector’s ability to put in place effective protocols to protect its employees and customers, and its importance to the functioning of other parts of the economy. There is little point in opening a car assembly plant unless its SME suppliers are able to deliver the required parts.

Detailed planning of the phasing of specific relaxation measures is essential, as is close cooperation between business and the authorities. The government also needs to establish a centralised coordination function capable of dealing quickly with any unexpected supply chain glitches. And it must pay close attention to feedback from health experts on how the process of re-opening the economy sector-by-sector is affecting the rate of infection.  

Third, the government needs to state how the current financial and economic support measures for the economy will evolve as the re-opening process continues. It is critical to avoid removing support measures too soon, and some key measures may have to continue to operate even as firms restart their operations. It is important to show how - over time - the measures will evolve from a ‘life support’ system for businesses and individuals into a more conventional economic stimulus.

This transition strategy could initially be signalled through broad principles, but the government needs to follow through quickly by detailing specific measures. The transition strategy must target sectors where most damage has been done, including the SME sector in general and specific areas such as transport, leisure and retail. It needs to factor in the hard truth that some businesses will be no longer be viable after the crisis and set out how the government is going to support employees and entrepreneurs who suffer as a result.

The government must also explain how it intends to learn the lessons and capture the upsides from the crisis by building a more resilient economy over the longer term. Most importantly, it has to demonstrate continued commitment to tackling climate change – which is at least as big a threat to mankind’s future as pandemics.

Fourth, the authorities should explain how they plan to manage controls on movement of people across borders to minimise the risk of new infection outbreaks, but also to help sustain the opening-up measures. This needs to take account of the fact that different countries are at different stages in the progress of the pandemic and may have different strategies and trade-offs on the risks they are willing to take as they open up.

As a minimum, an effective border plan requires close cooperation with near neighbours as these are likely to be the most important economic counterparts for many countries. But ideally each country’s plan should be part of a wider global opening-up strategy coordinated by the G20. In the absence of a reliable antibody test, border control measures will have to rely on a combination of imperfect testing, quarantine, and new, shared data requirements for incoming and departing passengers.  

Fifth, the authorities must communicate the steps effectively to the public, in a manner that shows not only that this is a well thought-through plan, but also does not hide the extent of the uncertainties, or the likelihood that rapid modifications may be needed as the plan is implemented. In designing the communications, the authorities should develop specific measures to enable the public to track progress.

Such measures are vital to sustaining business, consumer and employee confidence. While some smaller advanced economies appear close to completing these steps, for many others there is still a long way to go. Waiting until they are achieved means higher economic costs in the short-term. But, in the long-term, they will deliver real net benefits.

Authorities are more likely to sustain these measures because key economic actors will actually follow the guidance given. Also, by instilling confidence, the plan will bring forward the consumer and business decision-making crucial to a strong recovery. In contrast, moving ahead without proper preparation risks turning an already severe economic recession into something much worse.

The pressure of the coronavirus pandemic is adding to a widely held misconception that trade in food products is bad for the environment due to the associated ‘food miles’ – the carbon footprint of agricultural products transported over long distances.

This concept, developed by large retailers a decade ago, is often invoked as a rationale for restricting trade and choosing locally-produced food over imports. Consuming local food may seem sensible at first glance as it reduces the carbon footprint of goods and generates local employment. 

However, this assumption ignores the emissions produced during the production, processing or storage stages which often dwarf transport emissions. Other avenues to address the climate change impact of trade are more promising.

Demystifying food emissions

In the US, for example, food items travel more than 8,000 km on average before reaching the consumer. Yet transport only accounts for 11 per cent of total emissions with 83 per cent – mostly nitrous oxide (N2O) and methane (CH4) emissions – occurring at the production stage.

US Department of Agriculture data on energy use in the American food system echoes this finding, showing that processing, packaging, and selling of food represent ten times the energy used to transport food.

In practice, it may be preferable from an environmental perspective to consume lamb, onion or dairy products transported by sea because the lower emissions generated at the production stage offset those resulting from transport. Similarly, growing tomatoes under heated greenhouses in Sweden is often more emissions-intensive than importing open-grown ones from Southern Europe.

Seasonality also matters. British apples placed in storage for ten months leads to twice the level of emissions as that of South American apples sea-freighted to the UK. And the type of transport is also important as, overall, maritime transport generates 25 to 250 times less emissions than trucks, and air freight generates on average five times more emissions than road transport.

Therefore, air-freighted Kenyan beans have a much larger carbon footprint than those produced in the UK, but crossing Europe by truck to import Italian wine might generate more emissions than transatlantic shipments.

Finally, one should take into account the last leg of transport. A consumer driving more than 10 km to purchase 1 kg of fresh produce will generate proportionately more greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions than air-freighting 1 kg of produce from Kenya.

Shifting consumption towards local foods may reduce GHG emissions in sectors with relatively low emissions intensities but, when non-carbon dioxide emissions are taken into account, this is more often the exception than the rule.

Under these circumstances, preventing trade is an inefficient and expensive way of reducing GHG emissions. Bureau et al. for example, calculate that a global tariff maintaining the volume of trade at current levels until 2030 may reduce global carbon dioxide emissions by 3.5 per cent. However, this would be roughly seven times less than the full implementation of the Paris Agreement and cost equivalent to the current GDP of Brazil or 1.8 per cent of world GDP.

By preventing an efficient use of resources, such restrictions would also undermine the role of trade in offsetting possible climate-induced production shortfalls in some parts of the world and allowing people to access food when they can’t produce it themselves.

Reducing the climate footprint of trade

This is not to say that nothing should be done to tackle transport emissions. The OECD estimates that international trade-related freight accounted for over 5 per cent of total global fuel emissions with shipping representing roughly half of it, trucks 40 per cent, air 6 per cent and rail 2 per cent. With the projected tripling of freight transport by 2050, emissions from shipping are expected to rise between 50 and 250 per cent.

Furthermore, because of their international nature, these emissions are not covered by the Paris Agreement. Instead the two UN agencies regulating these sectors – the International Civil Aviation Organization and the International Maritime Organization – are responsible for reducing these emissions and, so far, significant progress has proven elusive.

Regional or bilateral free trade agreements to further stimulate trade could address this problem by exploiting comparative advantages. Impact assessments of those agreements often point towards increases in GHG emissions due to a boost in trade flows. In the future, such agreements could incorporate – or develop in parallel – initiatives to ensure carbon neutrality by connecting carbon markets among contracting parties or by taxing international maritime and air transport emissions.

Such initiatives could be combined with providing additional preferences in the form of enhanced market access to low-carbon food and healthier food. The EU, as one of the chief proponents of bilateral and regional trade agreements and a leader in promoting a transition to a low-carbon economy could champion such an approach.

This article is part of a series from the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum, designed to promote research and policy recommendations on the future of global trade. It is adapted from the research paper, Delivering Sustainable Food and Land Use Systems: The Role of International Trade, authored by Christophe Bellmann, Bernice Lee and Jonathan Hepburn.

On April 9, Iraqi President Barham Salih gathered the Shia, Kurdish and Sunni political blocs at the presidential palace to task head of intelligence Mustafa al-Kadhimi with forming a government.

Kadhimi is the third prime minister-designate assigned since Prime Minister Adil abd al-Mehdi resigned in November, in the wake of mass protests against government corruption and the country’s ethno-sectarian based political system.

Kadhimi’s two predecessors, Muhammad Tawfiq Allawi and Adnan al-Zurfi, both failed to form a government. This third attempt came as Iraq struggles with repeated crises since October 2019, when the government began responding with deadly force to large-scale mass protests, killing more than 600 and injuring tens of thousands.

In January, the assassination of Qasem Soleimani escalated tensions between the United States and Iran, with Iraq stuck in the middle and becoming the home for regular tit-for-tat attacks. The Islamic State — never completely defeated — took advantage of these crises and increased its attacks in disputed territories.

The outbreak of COVID-19 challenges the country’s fragile public health sector, while the decline in the price of oil will make it harder for leaders to pay the public salaries that keep the system (and patronage) moving.

What does the delay in forming a government amid multiple crises mean for the post-2003 Iraqi political system?

Iraq’s post-2003 political system is designed to withstand crisis. Over the years, political parties reflecting the country’s ethnic and sectarian divides have had a tacit understanding that crises represent a risk to their collective interests. These elite stakeholders have together weathered civil war, insurgency and multiple protests — despite deep conflicts with one another.

For instance, in September 2018 protesters attacked most major political party headquarters and the Iranian consulate in Basra, and authorities killed some 20 protesters.

Since the May election of that year, the fragmented Shia elite had been unable to even declare which side has the largest parliamentary bloc, let alone decide on a government.

But after the September crisis, the previously gridlocked parties swiftly came together to form an “understanding” that pushed through the impasse leading to the Mehdi government. In 2020, however, Iraq’s political parties were slower to come back together despite the multiple crises — far greater than 2018. The system is less able to swiftly fix itself, based primarily on the fragmentation of the elite — and their determination to prevent any challenge to their rule.

Why did the two prior attempts fail?

The two previous prime minister-designates each fell short for different reasons. When I met Allawi in February at the prime minister’s guesthouse in Baghdad, he was very clearly convinced that his mandate was to sideline the parties.

He hoped that simply choosing technocratic ministers outside the elite pact, with the support of Moqtada al-Sadr behind him, would garner support from protesters and the disillusioned public. He failed, however, because his cabinet had to go through parliament and the parties rejected what they saw a threat to the elite pact and the system.

Zurfi similarly failed after being directly appointed in March by Salih after the Shia parties failed to come up with a candidate. From the beginning, then, Zurfi faced challenges because parties were not in agreement. He attempted to directly confront his opposition, and spoke out against Iranian influence in Iraq. As a result, Zurfi was unable to even get to parliament with his proposed cabinet, as the Shia parties got back together to bring him down.

The failure of both strategies — Allawi attempting to work outside the elite party system and Zurfi trying to target certain parties — reveals tensions in Iraq’s political system. This fragmentation strains the parties’ ability to swiftly unite, and the system’s ability to withstand crises.

The endemic problems are a consequence of fragmentation, including the failure following the 2018 elections to declare governing parliamentary bloc. Moreover, after that election, newcomers into the political system (two-thirds of the MPs are serving their first term) are increasingly making their own demands and less willing to blindly toe party lines.

Can Kadhimi overcome the impasse?

Kadhimi’s appointment as prime minister-designate nonetheless is on shaky foundations. His appointment had previously faced a veto from Iran and its allied groups which make up the Fateh bloc. Kataeb Hezbollah, an armed group close to Iran and linked to the Popular Mobilization Units, issued a statement accusing Kadhimi with blood on his hands for the deaths of Soleimani and Abu Mahdi al-Muhandis.

Many Fateh bloc members had for months vetoed Kadhimi’s name due to this allegation. Immediately before Kadhimi addressed the nation for the first time, Iraqi state television broadcast a prerecorded statement by PMU (and Fateh) leader Qais al-Khazali, who had also previously accused Kadhimi of spying for the Americans and being complicit in the two killings.

Khazali, who commands the second-largest party within Fateh, accepted the party line to back Kadhimi but came out with his own conditions on television. However, the concerns about the COVID-19 crisis and the collapse of the price of oil finally brought all sides to compromise — a design of the political system.

Kadhimi has signalled he will play by the old rules with these stakeholders. Because of the magnitude of these simultaneous crises, Iraqi politics is moving back to the post-2003 norm. The ethno-sectarian based political system is geared to weather such existential crises more than it is to handling day-to-day governance. Despite the notion of “post-sectarianism” in Iraq, this system is based on ethno-sectarian political party compromise.

In his television address, Khazali, who had previously attempted to move away from sectarian language, explained that the process of selecting a prime minister is reserved to the Shia, who have the right as the majority, and not to Salih, a Kurd.

Over the years Kadhimi has expressed an admiration of the bravery of the protesters and of the importance of civil society. Many Iraqi civil society activists owe their lives to the work of the former intelligence chief. However, he has also been part of the same system that has violently suppressed protesters.

As the compromise prime minister-designate, he will find it difficult to transform his country as long as he plays by the rules of post-2003 Iraq — an irony not lost on the protesters who immediately rejected the candidacy of a man whom until recently many protesters had supported.

This article was originally published in The Washington Post

There were several notable achievements during last week’s Spring meetings. The Fund’s frank set of forecasts for world GDP growth are a grim but valuable reminder of the scale of the crisis we are facing, and the Fund’s richer members will finance a temporary suspension on payments to the IMF for 29 very poor countries.

Most importantly, a boost to the Fund’s main emergency facilities - the Rapid Credit Facility and the Rapid Financing Instrument - now makes $100bn of proper relief available to a wide range of countries. But the core problem is that the vast bulk of the Fund’s firepower is effectively inert.

This is because of the idea of 'conditionality', which underpins almost all of the IMF’s lending relationships with member states. Under normal circumstances, when the IMF is the last-resort lender to a country, it insists that the borrowing government tighten its belt and exercise restraint in public spending.

This helps to achieve three objectives. One is to stabilise the public debt burden, to ensure that the resources made available are not wasted. The second is to limit the whole economy’s need for foreign exchange, a shortage of which had prompted a country to seek IMF help in the first place. And the third is to ensure that the IMF can get repaid.

Role within the international monetary system

Since the IMF does not take any physical collateral from countries to whom it is lending, the belt-tightening helps to act as a kind of collateral for the IMF. It helps to maximise the probability that the IMF does not suffer losses on its own loan portfolio — losses that would have bad consequences for the Fund’s role within the international monetary system.

This is a perfectly respectable goal. Walter Bagehot, the legendary editor of The Economist, established modern conventional wisdom about managing panics. Relying on a medical metaphor that feels oddly relevant today, he said that a panic 'is a species of neuralgia, and according to the rules of science you must not starve it.' 

Managing a panic, therefore, requires lending to stricken borrowers 'whenever the security is good', as Bagehot put it. The IMF has had to invent its own form of collateral, and conditionality is the result. The problem, though, is that belt-tightening is a completely inappropriate approach to managing the current crisis.

Countries are stricken not because they have indulged in any irresponsible spending sprees that led to a shortage of foreign exchange, but because of a virus beyond their control. Indeed, it would seem almost grotesque for the Fund to ask countries to cut spending at a time when, if anything, more spending is needed to stop people dying or from falling into a permanent trap of unemployment.

The obvious solution to this problem would be to increase the amount of money that any country can access from the Fund’s emergency facilities well beyond the $100bn now available. But that kind of solution would quickly run up against the IMF’s collateral problem.

The more the IMF makes available as 'true' emergency financing with few or no strings attached, the more it begins to undermine the quality of its loan portfolio. And if the IMF’s senior creditor status is undermined, then an important building block of the international monetary system would be at risk.

One way out of this might have been an emergency allocation of Special Drawing Rights, a tool last used in 2009. This would credit member countries’ accounts with new, unconditional liquidity that could be exchanged for the five currencies that underpin the SDR: the dollar, the yen, the euro, sterling and the renminbi. That will not be happening, though, since the US is firmly opposed, for reasons bad and good.

So in the end the IMF and its shareholders face a huge problem. It either lends more money on easy terms without the 'collateral' of conditionality, at the expense of undermining its own balance sheet - or it remains, in systemic terms, on the sidelines of this crisis.

And since the legacy of this crisis will be some eye-watering increases in the public debt burdens of many emerging economies, the IMF’s struggle to find a way to administer its medicine will certainly outlive this round of the coronavirus outbreak.

This article is a version of a piece which was originally published in the Financial Times

COVID-19 has offered regimes in the region the opportunity to end popular protest. The squares of Algiers, Baghdad, and Beirut – all packed with protesters over the past few months – are now empty due to the pandemic, and political gatherings have also been suspended. In Algeria, Iraq and Lebanon, COVID-19 has achieved what snipers, pro-regime propaganda, and even the economic crisis, could not.

Moreover, political regimes have taken advantage of the crisis to expand their control over the political sphere by arresting their opponents, such as in Algeria where the authorities have cracked down on a number of active voices of the Hirak movement. Similarly, in Lebanon, security forces have used the pandemic as an excuse to crush sit-ins held in Martyr’s Square in Beirut and Nour Square in Tripoli.

However, despite the challenges that the pandemic has brought, it also offers opportunities for protest movements in the region. While the crisis has put an end to popular mobilization in the streets, it has  created new forms of activism in the shape of solidarity initiatives to help those affected by its consequences.

In Iraq, for example, protest groups have directed their work towards awareness-raising and sharing essential food to help mitigate the problem of food shortages and rising prices across the country. In Algeria, Hirak activists have run online campaigns to raise awareness about the virus and have encouraged people to stay at home. Others have been cleaning and disinfecting public spaces. These initiatives increase the legitimacy of the protest movement, and if coupled with political messages, could offer these movements an important chance to expand their base of popular support.

Exposes economic vulnerability

Economic grievances, corruption and poor provision of public services have been among the main concerns of this recent wave of protests. This pandemic only further exposes the levels of economic vulnerability in the region. COVID-19 is laying bare the socio-economic inequalities in MENA countries; this is particularly evident in the numbers of people engaged in the informal economy with no access to social security, including health insurance and pensions.

Informal employment, approximately calculated by the share of the labour force not contributing to social security, is estimated to amount to 65.5% of total employment in Lebanon, 64.4% in Iraq, and 63.3% in Algeria. The crisis has underscored the vulnerability of this large percentage of the labour force who have been unable to afford the economic repercussions of following state orders to stay at home.

The situation has also called attention to the vital need for efficient public services and healthcare systems. According to the fifth wave of the Arab Barometer, 74.4% of people in Lebanon are dissatisfied with their country’s healthcare services, as are 67.8% of people in Algeria and 66.5% in Iraq.

Meanwhile, 66.2% of people in Lebanon believe it is necessary to pay a bribe in order to receive better healthcare, as do 56.2% of people in Iraq and 55.9% in Algeria. The COVID-19 crisis has highlighted the need for more government investment in public healthcare systems to render them more efficient and less corrupt, strengthening the protesters’ case for the need for radical socio-economic reforms.

On the geopolitical level, the crisis puts into question the stability-focused approach of Western powers towards the region. For years, Western powers have directed their aid towards security forces in the interests of combating terrorism but COVID-19 has proved itself to be a much more lethal challenge to both the region and the West.

Facing this new challenge requires international actors to reconsider their approach to include supporting health and education initiatives, as well as freedom of expression and transparency. As argued by Western policymakers themselves, it was China’s lack of transparency and slow response that enabled the proliferation of the virus, when it could have been contained in Wuhan back in December 2019.

This crisis therefore offers regional protest movements the opportunity to capitalize on this moment and push back against the policies of Western powers that have invested in regional stability only to the extent of combating Islamic jihad. 

But crises do not change the world, people do. The COVID-19 pandemic will not in itself result in political change in the MENA region. Rather, it brings opportunities and risks that, when exploited, will allow political actors to advance their own agendas. While the crisis has put an end to popular mobilization and allowed regimes to tighten their grip over the political sphere, behind these challenges lie real opportunities for protest movements.

The current situation represents a possibility for them to expand their popular base through solidarity initiatives and has exposed more widely the importance of addressing socio-economic inequalities. Finally, it offers the chance to challenge the stability-focused approach of Western powers towards the region which until now has predominantly focused on combating terrorism.