Earlier this month, US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo became the highest-ranking US official to visit Belarus since Bill Clinton in 1994. After meetings with Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenka – who Condoleezza Rice once memorably described as ‘Europe’s last dictator’ – Pompeo said he was ‘optimistic about our strengthened relationship’. 

The EU and its member states have also changed their tune, at least a little. Previously, prosecutions of democratic activists led to sanctions against the Lukashenka regime. But his less-than-liberal manner of governance did not prevent him from visiting Austria last November or from receiving invitations to Brussels. 

Eight years ago, most EU contacts with Belarusian officials were frozen. Now, Western diplomats regularly meet with Belarusian officials again. This year, a US ambassador to Belarus will be appointed after a 12-year break.

The West is also more willing to support Belarus financially. The European Bank for Reconstruction and Development invested a record-breaking $433 million in the country in 2019. The European Investment Bank only began working with the country in 2017 but already has a portfolio of $600 million.

Certain policymakers in the EU and US now, at least publicly, appear to regard Lukashenka as one of the sources of regional security and a defender of Belarusian sovereignty against Russia.

There is some truth in this. He has taken a neutral position in Russia’s conflict with Ukraine, and he has consistently resisted pressure from the Kremlin to establish a military base in Belarus.

Now, amid Moscow’s demands for deeper integration in exchange for the continuation of Russian energy subsidies, Lukashenka has shown reluctance to sell his autonomy. In a token attempt to portray sovereignty Belarus even started buying oil from Norway, although this makes no economic sense.

But Lukashenka’s long-term record shows he has done little to ensure the country’s sovereignty. Lukashenka has resisted reforms that would have strengthened the economy (because they would have weakened his own position). The political system is also dependent on Russia because Lukashenka has been unwilling to build better relations with the West. Belarusians are still strongly influenced by Russian culture and media because the authorities marginalize their own national identity.

Since the conflict in Ukraine in 2014, Lukashenka’s primary goal has not been to strengthen the sovereignty of Belarus, but to preserve his absolute control over the country.

For example, when in 2018 Russia started pressing Belarus to deepen its integration in order to retain economic support, Minsk did not reject this approach outright; instead, it discussed no less than 31 ‘road maps’ for deepening integration for more than a year, hoping to receive more benefits. For Lukashenka, greater dependency on Russia is a matter of price and conditions, not principle. 

None of this is to say Belarus has illusions about Russia. It is just that Lukashenka does not take long-term steps to protect the country’s sovereignty or to strengthen relations with the West.

Belarus needs to start economic reform with the support of the International Monetary Fund, but this cannot happen without Lukashenka’s genuine commitment to transform the economy. Absence of cross-sectoral reform has led to the deterioration of the education system as well as unprecedented emigration. Few Belarusian experts are optimistic about their country’s future. Lukashenka knows all this, but does not change his system, fearing it would damage the stability of his regime.  

The West should therefore adopt a broader policy. Lukashenka is unlikely to still be president in 10–15 years, so policymakers should develop relations with the broader ruling elite, which will remain after he leaves, and try to be present in Belarus as much as possible helping it to improve public governance and develop private businesses.

The West should also support the country’s civil society and independent media, for whom Belarusian independence is a matter of principle rather than something to be bargained away.

Lukashenka may be a strong leader, but the state he has built is weak.

Japan and Russia are often referred to as 'distant neighbours'. 

In the early days of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's second term in 2012, Japan sought to open a new era of bilateral relations with Russia. However, recent negotiations on the Kuril Islands/Northern Territories territorial dispute have stalled. Despite Abe’s extensive efforts to resolve the dispute, no concrete agreement has been reached so far. 

The speaker will provide an overview of the current state of Japan-Russia relations, including the prospect of resolving the territorial dispute during Prime Minister Abe's remaining days in office.

Russia annexed Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula in 2014. Despite Russia’s interpretation of its rights to the peninsula, international law and the international community, including the UN General Assembly and the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, regard Crimea as occupied and do not recognize any changes to its status. Against this backdrop, Ukraine has attempted to hold Russia accountable for the annexation through the international courts. 

The panellists assess the effectiveness of Ukraine’s reliance on lawfare as a means of holding Russia accountable for its alleged wrongs. What is the role of the International Criminal Court in addressing alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity perpetrated by Russia in the occupied peninsula? Were lengthy International Court of Justice proceedings, for example on the narrow issue of alleged racial discrimination in Crimea, worth launching? What further institutional and legislative reforms are needed to support justice and reconciliation in war-affected Ukraine? And what does this all mean for the situation on the ground?

Still grappling with the war in the east and the occupation of Crimea, Ukraine’s new leadership has announced its intention to develop its transitional justice infrastructure to respond to the human rights violations arising from Russia’s aggression. 

Numerous reports (not least ones by the UN Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine) list persecutions, illegal detentions, enforced disappearances, torture and killings among the crimes perpetrated in Crimea and parts of occupied Donbas. 

As Ukraine has only just started developing its transitional justice roadmap, this event will seek to discuss viable initial approaches, such as a ‘truth-telling commission’ or amnesties. 

The panellists will also discuss the role for civil society and those directly affected by hostilities in the transitional justice process.  

PLEASE NOTE THIS EVENT IS POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

Russia’s Middle East policy is driven by a complex mixture of traditional factors (such as the ongoing confrontation with the West) and new trends. The Kremlin is keen to maintain its position as an influential external broker. However, it is not confident Russia would be able to respond effectively if forced into a reactive mode by other regional players. The Kremlin therefore seeks to retain initiative and shape the agenda according to its needs and resources. This makes prediction of Moscow’s next moves in the region a challenging, but not impossible, task.

Nikolay Kozhanov will offer remarks on the changes that have taken place in Russia’s strategy since the publication of his research paper Russian Policy Across the Middle East: Motivations and Methods (2018).

PLEASE NOTE THIS EVENT IS POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

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.

Persistent internet rumours claiming the coronavirus outbreak originated from a secret American pharmaceutical company with the aim of destroying China from within were quickly discredited. Pop culture fans recognised the supposed activities of the Umbrella Corporation as being from the famous Japanese video games series Resident Evil.

However, although fake news, it can likely be attributed to Russian trolls conducting this and other similar activities online, especially when considered within the wider context of how the Russian regime is using this worldwide crisis to further destabilize the West and test its resolve.

Russian trolls never sleep

Russia’s COVID-19 related actions first and foremost take the form of a vast information warfare campaign, with media outlets simultaneously downplaying the threat of the pandemic - ‘it is less dangerous than seasonal flu’ - while stoking fear about what is happening elsewhere in Europe.

For the domestic audience in Russia, some media are reporting the pandemic marks the collapse of the Western world and liberalism altogether, calling it a form of collective punishment. Other point out how fast liberal democracies have curbed individual and entrepreneurial freedoms in order to slow down the viral outbreak, and seek to diminish the credibility of the Western response to the crisis.

Exploiting the coronavirus crisis in this way is a new low in Russia’s wider political warfare campaign to undermine global governance overall, as these activities are detrimental to people's very safety. For example, in Ukraine, it is thought a Russian-engineered disinformation operation may have caused the outburst of violence in the city of Novi Sanzhary following the arrival of evacuees from China.

In the military realm, fake news has been targeting the US-led multinational exercise DEFENDER-Europe 2020. The Russian leadership criticized the exercise as an offensive ‘anti-Russian scenario’ but then used accompanying propaganda that it could actively facilitate the spread of COVID-19 across Europe because of the arrival and movement of large numbers of troops.

The large-scale drills were planned to involve 18 participating nations and should have taken place across ten European countries from April to May 2020. But the exercise has now been scaled down – as has the Russian disinformation targeting it.

And while the world is pre-occupied with managing COVID-19, Moscow is able to grow bolder in its provocations. Recent air incursions were reported into Irish controlled airspace as well as over the North Sea. Although this practice is - unfortunately - routine as part of Russian constant military sabre-rattling, it does increase the risk of tactical errors and miscalculation.

Self-isolation, Kremlin style

Meanwhile, just when a global response is needed to fight the pandemic, Moscow’s response has been, at best, self-serving. On March 22, Russian military reportedly started sending medical equipment and supplies to Italy. While the nature and the scope of this assistance can be doubted, it still represents a charm offensive for Russia to be brought back in from the cold in Europe - since successive Italian leaderships have been accommodating to the Kremlin. And sending virologists to Italy might also be a useful learning curve for Russia’s regime.

But within Russia itself, Vladimir Putin does have to face the problem that, on top of all the projected social and healthcare costs, the coronavirus is also having negative political consequences. On March 25, the ‘popular vote’ - a mock referendum designed to rubber-stamp Putin’s recent constitutional changes - was pushed back. And the Ministry of Communications has been forced to postpone a major exercise aimed at ensuring the ‘stable and safe operation of Runet’ - namely eliminating vulnerabilities in the Russian ‘sovereign’ internet to potential external threats.

Certainly it would be naive to believe Moscow will put self-interest to one side during this pandemic. ‘International distancing’ is not new for the Kremlin, and Russia has been practising self-isolation since at least 2008 through its own actions, most notably in Georgia and Ukraine.

Its self-perception as a ‘besieged fortress’ is being reinforced by this crisis and Russia will, at the very least, likely come out of the crisis feeling vindicated in its view that internationalism is dying or already dead.

With the health systems of many countries under massive strain, and societal resilience being tested by social distancing, the Kremlin continues to probe for weaknesses, and is also carefully watching other countries’ responses to the crisis in terms of adaptation and mobilization of resources.

COVID-19 provides a major intelligence-gathering opportunity for Moscow to learn how well others can implement wartime-like planning in peacetime. In a rapidly changing world, Russia is still Russia.

Politically speaking, Russia has been isolating itself from the West for some years now, feeding its citizens a ‘besieged fortress’ mentality. Its uniqueness, however, means its approach to - and outcome from - the COVID-19 pandemic will also be distinctive. 

This webinar will explore how Russia is adapting its internal politics and its international relations to the ‘new normal’ of today. 

In early March, global oil prices fell sharply, hitting lows of under $30 a barrel. Two factors explain this collapse: firstly the decrease in global demand for oil as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic and, secondly, the breakdown in OPEC-Russian relations and the subsequent Saudi-Russian price war which has seen both countries move to flood the market with cheap oil.
 
Against this backdrop, the panellists will reflect on the challenges currently facing OPEC as well as the oil industry as a whole. How are OPEC countries affected by the ever-evolving Covid-19 pandemic? What are the underlying causes behind the Saudi-Russian price war? Is the conflict likely to be resolved soon? And what are the implications of these challenges for the oil industry?

This event is part of a fortnightly series of 'Business in Focus' webinars reflecting on the impact of COVID-19 on areas of particular professional interest for our corporate members and giving circles.

Not a corporate member? Find out more.

Russia’s ongoing occupation of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula and support of separatist hostilities in the eastern provinces of Donbas have resulted in 1.5 million internally displaced persons, 3,000 civilians killed, and a growing list of alleged violations of international law and socio-economic hardship.

But Ukraine is struggling in its efforts to hold Russia accountable – either as a state or through individual criminal responsibility - as it cannot unilaterally ask any international court to give an overall judgment on the conflict.

So it focuses on narrower issues, referring them to authorised adjudication and arbitration platforms such as the International Court of Justice (ICJ), European Court of Human Rights, UNCLOS arbitration, and the International Criminal Court (ICC). These options are limited, but still worth taking - and their relevance is proving to be far wider than the Russia-Ukraine conflict.

Policy of cultural eradication

In 2017, Ukraine initiated proceedings against Russia at the ICJ on the basis of two international treaties: the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), with regard to Crimea; and the International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism (ICSFT), with regard to Donbas.

Under the CERD, Ukraine alleges Russia has carried out a policy of cultural eradication of ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars in Crimea, including enforced disappearances, no education in the Ukrainian and Crimean Tatar languages, and the ban of the Mejlis, the main representative body of the Crimean Tatars.

Under the ICSFT, Ukraine alleges Russia has supported terrorism by providing funds, weapons and training to illegal armed groups in eastern Ukraine. In particular Ukraine alleges Russian state responsibility - through its proxies - for downing the infamous MH17 flight.

Both these treaties are binding upon Ukraine and Russia and entitle an individual state party to refer a dispute concerning them to the ICJ, but certain procedural pre-conditions must first be exhausted. These include a failed attempt to settle a dispute either through negotiations or the CERD Committee (for the CERD) or unsuccessful negotiations and arbitration (for the ICSFT).

Russia challenged Ukraine’s compliance with the pre-conditions, but the ICJ disagreed with Russia’s submission that Ukraine had to resort both to negotiations and to the CERD Committee. For the first time, the court clarified these procedures under the CERD were two means to reach the same aim, and therefore alternative and not cumulative.

Requiring states to avail of both procedures before going to the ICJ would undermine the very purpose of the CERD to eliminate racial discrimination promptly, and ensure the availability of effective domestic protection and remedies.

The relevance of this clarification transcends the Ukraine-Russia dispute. With the rise of discriminatory practices, from populist hate-filled rhetoric endangering vulnerable communities to large-scale persecution such as that of the Rohingyas, the UN’s principal judicial body is sending a clear larger message to the world: such practices are unacceptable and must be dealt with expeditiously and efficiently. If states fail to do so, there are now fewer procedural impediments to do it internationally.

The ICJ also confirmed Ukraine had complied with both procedural preconditions under the ICSFT and that it would give judgement on the alleged failure of Russia to take measures to prevent the financing of terrorism. The outcome of this will be of great importance to the international community, given the general lack of international jurisprudence on issues of terrorism.

The court’s interpretation of knowledge and intent in terrorism financing, as well as clarification of the term ‘funds’, is particularly relevant both for the Ukraine-Russia case and for international law.

As the final judgement may take several years, the ICJ granted some provisional measures requested by Ukraine in April 2017. The court obliged Russia to ensure the availability of education in Ukrainian and enable the functioning of the Crimean Tatar representative institutions, including the Mejlis.

When Russia contested Ukraine’s references to the alleged Stalin-ordered deportation of the Crimean Tatars and the rule of law in the Soviet Union being hypocritical, by arguing that history did not matter, the court disagreed.

In fact, Judge James Crawford emphasised the relevance of the ‘historical persecution’ of Crimean Tatars and the role of Mejlis in advancing and protecting their rights in Crimea ‘at the time of disruption and change’.

These conclusions are important reminders that the historical inheritance of injustices inflicted on vulnerable groups should be taken into account when nations address their imperial legacies.

The court’s provisional measures and Judge Crawford’s position are particularly relevant in light of Russia’s policy of the total - territorial, historical, cultural – ‘russification’ of Crimea, as they highlight the role of the historical background for assessing the alleged discriminatory and prosecutorial policy of Russia’s occupying authorities against the Crimean Tatars.

The ICJ’s judgement on the merits of this as well as other human rights, and terrorism issues of Crimea and Donbas will be an important consideration for the international community in its view of the Russia-Ukraine armed conflict and the sanctions policy against Russia.

The development of this case also has a mutually catalysing impact on Ukraine’s efforts to establish those individually criminally responsible for atrocities in Crimea and Donbas, through domestic proceedings and through the International Criminal Court.

Ukraine’s attempts to seek individual criminal responsibility for gross abuses in Donbas and Crimea at the International Criminal Court (ICC) are assessed in part two of this series, coming soon.

It has been nearly six years since the West imposed sanctions on Russia, targeting Russia's energy, defence and financial sectors. The sanctions exposed Russia's key vulnerabilities - dependence on Western capital and advanced technology, with knock-on effects in other sectors.

In an effort to offset the impact of sanctions, Russia has attempted a diversification strategy to non-Western states. The Asia-Pacific has emerged as a new export market for hydrocarbons and weapons, and as the main alternative to Western capital. Russia's self-proclaimed 'turn to the East' is intended to alleviate the sanctions burden and buy valuable time to come up with long-term solutions; but it has come at a high cost. 

In this discussion, Maria Shagina will examine the ways in which Asian states have helped mitigate the impact of Western sanctions and the pitfalls associated with it, while assessing the implications of Russia's pivot to Asia on its import substitution policy, and the effectiveness of sanctions overall.

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.

Soon after assuming power in 1994, President Aliaksandr Lukashenka turned his back on democratic norms and overpowered the Belarusian political elite. However, the influence of the governing elite in Belarus is growing again. It seems likely that the current governing class could rule the country after Lukashenka leaves. It is thus important to study Belarusian elites not only to understand the current regime, but also to better forecast and navigate the political system that will one day replace it. 

This study group aims to disentangle how the Belarusian political system works, outline the types of individuals that make up the Belarusian ruling elite, assess the interaction of the elite and institutions with the West, and suggest changes that Western political actors might make to their approach to the Belarusian ruling class.

COVID-19 has put a serious strain on healthcare and economic systems around the world. This virtual roundtable will explore its impact on Russia, Ukraine, Georgia and Kazakhstan. Through a comparative examination of government and society responses, this event will show how COVID-19 has laid bare the region’s broader social, economic and political challenges.

Since the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared COVID-19 a pandemic, few countries have chosen to ignore social distancing recommendations. But, even among those states which have, the Belarusian official response to its epidemic remains unique.

President Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s statements that vodka, sauna and tractors are protecting Belarusians from coronavirus attracted amused attention in international media. Lukashenka also described other societies’ response to COVID-19 as ‘a massive psychosis’.

Although Lukashenka is notorious for his awkward style of public communication, the fact that Belarus is refusing to impose comprehensive confinement measures is of concern. Belarusians continue to work, play football and socialise.

Lukashenka, himself playing ice hockey in front of state cameras, claims it is the best way to stay healthy. Belarusian authorities clearly appear to be in denial – and this could have dire humanitarian consequences.

From denial to half measures

Belarus actually has one of the largest numbers of hospital beds in the world per 1,000 of the population. But in the absence of quarantine measures its health system, already crippled by corruption and embezzlement, is likely to be overwhelmed.

Patients being treated for pneumonia in hospitals have suggested medical staff are uninformed and inadequately equipped. It is claimed doctors are not reporting COVID-19 as the suspected cause of death, either through a lack of testing or for fear of reprisals.

Observers believe the real mortality rate is already well above official figures (40 deaths as of 16 April). Based on an Imperial College London model, between 15,000 and 32,000 people could die under the current mild confinement regime – and such a high death toll would hugely impact the country’s political stability. Citing personal data protection, the Ministry of Health has imposed a total news blackout; the only cluster officially acknowledged so far is the city of Vitsebsk.

Although specific Belarusian cities and some individuals started changing their approach – by extending school vacations or cancelling weddings – such measures remain half-hearted.

Clearly a major reason for such an apparently irresponsible reaction is that Belarus cannot afford a massive lockdown that would freeze its already underdeveloped economy and drive it deeper into recession. Unlike many other nations, Belarus lacks budgetary resources for a sizable stimulus package. But a delayed response might backfire on the economy.

Economic recession has been forecast to amount to at least 10% of GDP. For Lukashenka, who openly challenged conventional wisdom regarding the need for quarantine and isolation, such an economic downturn would harm his confidence rating in the eyes of Belarusian voters, mindful of the state’s mismanagement of the crisis. And it could create doubt within the ruling elite itself, with Lukashenka seeking re-election for a sixth mandate in late August.

Against this backdrop, a radicalization of the opposition-minded part of society is also to be expected, with greater reliance on social networks in the face of official secrecy and disinformation. The expected response of the regime is then likely to be pre-emptive repression. Evidence is emerging that law enforcement agencies have already stepped up judicial and paralegal harassment of dissenters, notably independent journalists and bloggers.

Russia’s initial reluctance to address the coronavirus crisis may also have influenced Belarus. Lukashenka and his administration often react to public health challenges by the Soviet rulebook, reminiscent of the Soviet authorities’ mismanagement of the Chernobyl disaster in 1986.

Russia has unilaterally closed its borders with Belarus and, as bilateral relations continue to deteriorate, this casts further doubt on the viability of the Union State of Belarus and Russia. Pro-Russian media forecast Moscow will be unwilling to alleviate the expected socio-economic crisis, as it continues to reject Minsk’s demands regarding subsidised oil deliveries. Yet the Kremlin might use the crisis as an opportunity to resume its integrationist pressure on Belarus.

China, with which Belarus engaged in a seemingly privileged strategic partnership in the 2010s, was actually the first country to dispatch humanitarian aid to beef up Belarusian capacity to fight the virus.

But Minsk should not expect Beijing to rescue its economy and, unless it commits to more internal reforms, Belarus is not likely to receive much from the EU either. The regime has already applied to the IMF for emergency financial support, but conditions are attached and, even if successful, the funds would amount to no more than $900m.

The government’s decision to take only half measures so far is rooted in the hope COVID-19 is not as bad as foreign experts fear. But, unless the leadership acknowledges the public health crisis and mitigates its economic impact, COVID-19 will accelerate Belarus’s slide back into international self-isolation. If combined with a humanitarian crisis, this will put the Belarusian regime under considerable stress.

This crisis does risk a new ‘Chernobyl moment’ for the authorities, but the population could react more vocally this time. As volunteers self-organise to fight the epidemic, it might become more difficult for the authorities to say that it is efficient in running the country. But the bottom line is Belarus desperately needs money. Whoever steps up to support Belarus financially will also be able to heavily influence its politics.

The armed conflict in Donbas has now entered its seventh year. President Zelenskyy, who came to power in May 2019, promised to end the war with Russia and bring peace to Ukraine.

Since assuming office, Zelenskyy has managed to revive the Normandy Format talks, complete military disengagement at three points along the line of contact and negotiate the release of over a hundred Ukrainians held as prisoners of war in Russia. However, ceasefire violations continue to occur frequently.

Looking at the origins of the armed conflict in Donbas and the region’s economic role in Ukraine’s economy, this event discusses the prospects for conflict resolution. Do the recent events signify an opportunity for peace? Does Zelenskyy have a viable plan for re-integrating Donbas or will the region be cut off from mainland Ukraine for the foreseeable future?

The speakers assess the strategy and track record of the Ukrainian government and its Western allies in bringing parts of the occupied Donbas under Kyiv’s control. They also review possible policy implications of the COVID-19 pandemic for the conflict.

The recognition by Ukraine of the jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court (ICC) to consider grave crimes allegedly perpetrated in its territory has led to the ICC Prosecutor’s preliminary examination identifying a wave of alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity.

There are claims of persecution, forced conscription, deportation, sham trials, enforced disappearances, and property seizure - in Crimea. As well as killings, torture, inhuman treatment, sexual violence, and indiscriminate shelling - in Donbas. The court now needs to decide whether to open a full investigation which could lead to charges against specific individuals, as in the trial currently taking place in the Netherlands over MH-17.

However, the ICC does remain a court of last resort as Ukraine retains the principal power to prosecute grave violations perpetrated in its eastern regions and Crimea, with the court only stepping in if Ukraine (or another court with jurisdiction) is either unwilling or unable to do so.

As the evidence mounts up, Ukrainian investigators, prosecutors and judges are becoming more open to cooperation with foreign experts, law firms, human rights NGOs and younger domestic professionals - a significant proportion of whom are women.

Transformation shows determination

This is an unusual shift, given the rigid hierarchical nature of post-Soviet institutions, with elderly males in most of the top positions. The transformation shows the determination to see perpetrators of crimes in Crimea and Donbas tried by the ICC, with joint professional development trainings and joint communications about the alleged crimes.

Ukraine has also been strengthening its institutions. The Prosecutor’s Office of the Autonomous Republic of Crimea has been improving quality control of its war crime proceedings, and has taken a strong pro-ICC stance. The Office of the Prosecutor General established a special department to monitor the armed conflict proceedings, and two specialised war crime units have been formed in Donbas.

Although too early to assess progress - given recent prosecution reform and that much-needed legislation on international crimes is still pending – these are promising signs of Ukraine’s intent to take a specialised approach to armed conflict violations. And Ukrainian civil society organisations are also playing a more important role, documenting alleged crimes and sending evidence to the ICC.

Any intervention by the ICC in Ukraine also has a considerable impact on the wider dynamics of addressing international crimes, further extending the court’s reach beyond a focus on Africa which has attracted widespread criticism since it began in 2002.

The ICC has already opened investigations in Georgia, Bangladesh/Myanmar, and Afghanistan, with preliminary examinations in Colombia, Venezuela, Iraq/UK, Palestine, and The Philippines. But the Ukrainian case would further develop the European subtleties of the court’s jurisprudence.

Although the ICC is currently investigating the 2008 Russia-Georgia war, the active phase of that armed conflict lasted for just five days whereas Russia’s military involvement in Ukraine has been ongoing for the six years. The temporal difference in no way diminishes the suffering of victims and the necessity for the proper investigation, prosecution and compensation in the Georgian context.

And yet, going by even the preliminary findings of the ICC prosecutor, the spectrum of war crimes and crimes against humanity allegedly perpetrated in Ukraine is much wider. Some incidents, such as the illegal construction of the Crimean Bridge, is an amalgam of the violations against property, cultural heritage and the environment. Cumulatively, the Ukrainian and Georgian cases would substantially contribute to the development of the court’s emerging European lenses.

The Russia-Ukraine armed conflict is also the first instance of armed hostilities of such magnitude and duration in Europe since World War II and the Yugoslav Wars. The ICC’s readiness to take on such geopolitically challenging cases which leave itself open to attack will be tested.

But by examining new contexts - including Ukraine - the ICC would develop a more layered reading of the nature and scope of the crimes it works on. For example, alleged indoctrination and use of children by armed groups in eastern Ukraine is likely to differ from the known practices of abducting and recruiting child soldiers in Africa.

Investigating evidence of Russia’s persecution of pro-Ukrainian activists - forcing them out of Crimea - coupled with the creation of favourable conditions for Russian citizens to relocate to Crimea could lead to proving the existence of a policy of mass colonisation of the peninsula - adding new layers to the court’s jurisprudence on population displacement. And previously under-prosecuted crimes may come to the fore, such as attacks on cultural property or causing the destruction of the environment.

Although the ICC proceedings on Ukraine – along with those being held by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) - are unlikely to bring immediate results, Ukraine has developed an international adjudication strategy based on the available viable options and what can be practically delivered.

The simple act of a reputed international court outlining Russia’s alleged violations in Crimea and Donbas and naming those individually responsible would be an impactful achievement in itself, regardless of whether Russia pays any attention or compensation.

And any international judgments or those of domestic courts such as the Dutch MH-17 proceedings and Russia’s response - predicted to be non-compliance - is an important argument for continuing sanctions against Russia over its conduct in Ukraine.

The mutually reinforcing effect of both the Crimea and Donbas proceedings within Ukraine and at international courts should not be underestimated. These investigations into war crimes, terrorism and human rights issues are deeply relevant - not only for the conflict itself, but also for the development of international law.

Part One of this series assesses Ukraine’s efforts to hold Russia accountable as a state at the International Court of Justice (ICJ).

Ukrainians are accustomed to crisis. As COVID-19 spread, forest fires were raging in the Chernobyl exclusion zone, turning Kyiv into the most polluted city in the world. The fighting in Donbas continued, claiming the lives of more Ukrainian soldiers, bringing the total to more than 4,000 — and, on top of that, President Zelenskyy overhauled his government. So Ukraine is fighting three battles at the same time — war with Russia, the struggle against its own ineffective system, and now COVID-19.

Every crisis is a reality check — the coronavirus provoked and exposed the strategic vulnerabilities and deep-rooted features of Ukraine’s system of governance. Three trends have come to the fore. First, the inefficiency and paralysis of many state agencies, particularly the lack of coordination between them and the prevalence of vested interests. Second, the reliance of the country’s leaders on large financial-industrial groups (FIGs) to compensate for weak institutional capacity. Third, a strong societal and private sector mobilization to fill the gaps in the dilapidated public health system.

State agencies are rigid and ineffective. Despite the modern Prozorro digital public procurement system, and the government’s allocation of $2.5 million from the early days of the epidemic, the Ministry of Health blocked COVID-related purchases for over a month. This was a tactic by — now ex-minister — Yemets to pressure the state medical procurement agency into appointing a protégé of his as one of its deputy heads.

Lowest testing rate in Europe

Similarly, in some regions, notably Odesa, procurement stalled and orders went to politically connected businesses at higher-than-market prices. Lack of tests and laboratory equipment means Ukraine has administered only 72,000 tests within a population of 42 million to date — the lowest rate in Europe.

Doctors were given orders to ensure they only test patients in hospitals with COVID-19 symptoms and only those arriving from Asia, while ignoring the fact that millions of Ukrainian labour migrants were in Europe. Indeed, the first confirmed case was imported from Italy.

Ukrainian government and public health officials lack information to take informed decisions. There is no accurate electronic database of registered deaths and reporting is lagging behind events. Information on testing availability in the regions is missing.

Thirteen days after the first case of the virus was recorded, Zelenskyy exhorted business tycoons to come to the rescue. Taking a populist tone, Zelenskyy said ‘Ukraine has been feeding you for a long time and it is time that you helped the country’. The tycoons divided the regions among themselves to deliver relief efforts according to the location of their enterprises.

It is believed FIGs have donated around $25 million to procure testing kits, ventilators, personal protective equipment (PPE) and disinfectants. This may sound impressive, but many of those same tycoons actually owe millions to the state, some even billions, and cause serious problems by perpetuating the current rent-seeking system, where public resources benefit those groups resulting in serious social losses.

Reliance on these groups makes Zelenskyy a hostage to their favour in any potential reform efforts. It is a dangerous solution, as these tycoons often obstruct Ukraine’s economic development.

An alternative — and more transformative — trend of public-private partnerships is emerging in some regions. Across Ukraine, hundreds of small- and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) have led efforts to deliver PPE, support the vulnerable with food supplies, and to procure ventilators for key hospitals.

They have mobilised hundreds of volunteers to deliver assistance and partnered with local non-profits. Fundraising initiatives have begun in Lviv, Odesa, Kyiv and Poltava with donations and expenditure has been posted online for transparency. Companies have repurposed to produce PPE kits and medical equipment. The efforts unfolded quickly and, in some cases, in smooth collaboration with municipal and regional authorities.

Ukraine cannot afford to ‘waste’ this crisis, which could help accelerate healthcare reform, decentralization, modernize governance, and boost citizen empowerment. But for this to happen, the country has to deploy a ‘smart response’.

Such ‘smart response’ means applying a resilience framework that nurtures the agility of the system of governance, ensures a diversity of actors in decision-making, supporting both self-regulation and better coordination. Rather than reaching out to tycoons, Zelenskyy should enter a coalition with true agents of change — SME leaders, volunteers, and mayors who have mobilized effective grassroots action. These actors demand a level playing field with accountable governance and effective state institutions.

Civic COVID-19 response hubs and local authorities should be joined in a network that spans the regions, and connected with the national agencies designing pandemic responses. For a national strategy to be effective, central headquarters should draw information from local communities and manage a ‘team of teams’ in a decentralised fashion.

Ensuring effective public service delivery without compromising integrity and keeping the risk of corruption low should also be a priority of political reform, with volunteers and the private sector ensuring civic oversight of both regional and national funding.

Civic engagement such as this can be transformative as it defies the Soviet legacy of paternalism and expands the belief among citizens that society can work for them. By assisting the relief effort, citizens are gaining valuable insights into quality of public services and participate in holding them to account.

Citizens are also developing a better understanding of the purpose of having effective armed forces, police, border guards and modern hospitals. They are coming to understand the value of taxpayer money and witnessing how corruption erodes institutions.

This survival mobilization — if properly harnessed by the state — could drive transformative change and make Ukraine more resilient, not just against present crises, but future ones too.

Despite face-to-face diplomatic meetings being increasingly rare during the current disruption, COVID-19 will ultimately force a redefinition of national security and defence spending priorities, and this could provide the possibility of an improved political climate at RevCon when it happens in 2021.

With US presidential elections due in November and a gradual engagement growing between the EU and Iran, there could be a new context for more cooperation between states by 2021. Two key areas of focus over the coming months will be the arms control talks between the United States and Russia, and Iran’s compliance with the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), also known as the Iran Nuclear Deal.

It is too early to discern the medium- and longer-term consequences of COVID-19 for defence ministries, but a greater focus on societal resilience and reinvigorating economic productivity will likely undercut the rationale for expensive nuclear modernization.

Therefore, extending the current New START (Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty) would be the best, most practical option to give both Russia and the United States time to explore more ambitious multilateral arms control measures, while allowing their current focus to remain on the pandemic and economic relief.

Continuing distrust

But with the current treaty — which limits nuclear warheads, missiles, bombers, and launchers — due to expire in February 2021, the continuing distrust between the United States and Russia makes this extension hard to achieve, and a follow-on treaty even less likely.

Prospects for future bilateral negotiations are hindered by President Donald Trump’s vision for a trilateral arms control initiative involving both China and Russia. But China opposes this on the grounds that its nuclear arsenal is far smaller than that of the two others.

While there appears to be agreement that the nuclear arsenals of China, France, and the UK (the NPT nuclear-weapons states) and those of the states outside the treaty (India, Pakistan, North Korea, and Israel) will all have to be taken into account going forward, a practical mechanism for doing so proves elusive.

If Joe Biden wins the US presidency he seems likely to pursue an extension of the New START treaty and could also prevent a withdrawal from the Open Skies treaty, the latest arms control agreement targeted by the Trump administration.

Under a Biden administration, the United States would also probably re-join the JCPOA, provided Tehran returned to strict compliance with the deal. Biden could even use the team that negotiated the Iran deal to advance the goal of denuclearization of the Korean peninsula.

For an NPT regime already confronted by a series of longstanding divergences, it is essential that Iran remains a signatory especially as tensions between Iran and the United States have escalated recently — due to the Qassim Suleimani assassination and the recent claim by Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps to have successfully placed the country’s first military satellite into orbit.

This announcement raised red flags among experts about whether Iran is developing intercontinental ballistic missiles due to the dual-use nature of space technology. The satellite launch — deeply troubling for Iran’s neighbours and the EU countries — may strengthen the US argument that it is a cover for the development of ballistic missiles capable of delivering nuclear weapons.

However, as with many other countries, Iran is struggling with a severe coronavirus crisis and will be pouring its scientific expertise and funds into that rather than other efforts — including the nuclear programme.

Those European countries supporting the trading mechanism INSTEX (Instrument in Support of Trade Exchanges) for sending humanitarian goods into Iran could use this crisis to encourage Iran to remain in compliance with the JCPOA and its NPT obligations.

France, Germany and the UK (the E3) have already successfully concluded the first transaction, which was to facilitate the export of medical goods from Europe to Iran. But the recent Iranian escalatory steps will most certainly place a strain on the preservation of this arrangement.

COVID-19 might have delayed Iran’s next breach of the 2015 nuclear agreement but Tehran will inevitably seek to strengthen its hand before any potential negotiations with the United States after the presidential elections.

As frosty US-Iranian relations — exacerbated by the coronavirus pandemic — prevent diplomatic negotiations, this constructive engagement between the E3 and Iran might prove instrumental in reviving the JCPOA and ensuring Iran stays committed to both nuclear non-proliferation and disarmament.

While countries focus their efforts on tackling the coronavirus pandemic, it is understandable resources may be limited for other global challenges, such as the increasing risk of nuclear weapons use across several regions.

But the potential ramifications of the COVID-19 crisis for the NPT regime are profound. Ongoing tensions between the nuclear-armed states must not be ignored while the world’s focus is elsewhere, and the nuclear community should continue to work together to progress nuclear non-proliferation and disarmament, building bridges of cooperation and trust that can long outlast the pandemic.