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How to fight pandemics in a divided country.

When news broke on January 24 that German chancellor Olaf Scholz relented to demands by Ukraine and its closest European allies to send Leopard tanks to Ukraine, Europe’s heads of state weren’t exactly lining up to congratulate Scholz for his decisive leadership. Instead, many people fear the decision came too late and due to outside pressure—not because of German resolve to show a united front against Russia

Honoring the Élysée Treaty’s sixtieth anniversary, Scholz met with French president Emmanuel Macron last Sunday to toast, walk and talk about European security, energy, and economic policy, in an attempt to squelch criticism that the Franco-German partnership is faltering.

Meanwhile, former British prime minister Boris Johnson received a hero’s welcome in Kyiv, as if he had never left Downing Street. The UK-led Joint Expeditionary Force, which connects the Nordic and Baltic countries through British security assurances, has also lately been seen as a viable alternative to full NATO membership for Finland and Sweden, given Turkey’s opposition to NATO’s expansion on the disputed claims that Sweden supports Kurdish terrorist groups.

Although the Franco-German strategic partnership is in trouble, an unlikely candidate to take the lead in European security matters has now appeared: Great Britain. The first major European power to send tanks to Ukraine, Britain has once again become the leader in European security policy, despite having left Europe politically. Britain’s post-Brexit domestic political challenges don’t seem to have dampened the ambitious foreign policy of a successive row of British governments, each one positioning itself as a staunch supporter of Ukraine. This has won the backing of the EU’s eastern flank members, all of whom worry they’ll become the next victims of Russian aggression, should Ukraine fall.

Although Britain has won the hearts of the EU’s most pro-Ukrainian countries, Germany is shouldering increasing criticism for not contributing enough to the Ukrainian cause. Yet the critics have been less harsh with France, whose prewar economy wasn’t as tied to Russia as was Germany.

In fact, substantial differences separate France and Germany. On geostrategic issues and the meaning of what both call a “sovereign” Europe, Germany is more attached to NATO and the United States, while France adheres to the Gaullist tradition of Europe as a mediating and “balancing” power among the great world powers. Differences also abound in energy policy: France continues to support nuclear energy, while Germany is in the final phase of denuclearization.

The issue over sending German tanks to Ukraine underscores a more significant question about the future of European leadership, symbolized by the famous misquote often ascribed to former U.S. secretary of state Henry Kissinger: “Who do I call if I want to speak to Europe?” The looming question on everyone’s minds is the future of U.S. commitment to European security. Without Washington’s nuclear umbrella, would Germany seek to develop its own nuclear capabilities, leading to a more sinister Franco-German relationship? Germans can’t be sure the United States will continue to extend its nuclear umbrella over Germany unconditionally. No American president will risk nuclear war on behalf of Berlin under any circumstance. Having another nuclear power, Great Britain, firmly committed to European defense could allay German concerns and diminish the prospects of an escalating rivalry between Paris and Berlin.

Sixty years ago, Charles de Gaulle characterized the postwar Franco-German reconciliation as the “miracle of our time,” following the nationalistic excesses of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In retrospect, de Gaulle’s optimism was not naive, as the Élysée Treaty he signed with Konrad Adenauer in 1963 has survived even George Pompidou and Chancellor Willy Brandt’s ostpolitik era of “exemplary but non-exclusive” relations.

With journalists and political pundits focused on Germany’s Leopard tanks and Boris back in Kyiv, the real question we ought to ask ourselves is if what we’re witnessing is actually the first act of the British returning to the EU fold—this time as heroes who have led European efforts to save Ukraine. This certainly would be, in the words of le général, a true miracle of our time.

Diana Mjeshtri is Policy Analyst at Impact Innovation Institute. Both are members of the Councilors Program at the Atlantic Council.

Image: Andrew Harker / Shutterstock.com

“Globalization,” the bête noir of isolationists, protectionists, and labor and environmental activists for nearly a decade, is now considered by many reasonable, centrist individuals to be dying, if not dead already.

However, there is compelling empirical evidence to the contrary. Just recently, Apple announced it would manufacture 25 percent of its products in India due to disruptions in China. TSMC, the world’s biggest maker of advanced computer chips, committed $12 billion to build an Arizona-based semiconductor plant in 2020, and has since announced the opening of the company’s second chip plant there, raising its investment in the state to $40 billion. Meanwhile, Noah Itech, a Chinese supplier for Tesla, has invested $100 million in a new factory in Monterrey, Mexico, and the Brazilian multinational personal care cosmetics group Natura has expanded its presence to seventy-three countries across all continents except Antarctica.

In reality, a major source of pessimism and attacks on globalization is the widespread confusion between “globalization” and “globalism,” with the latter undermining the former.

Globalism is an ideology, a firm set of beliefs that goods, services, capital, and people should be able to move unfettered across borders and that trade agreements should be set in place to foster interconnectedness and interdependence. Globalization, on the other hand, is the dynamo, the actual process of cross-border exchanges of products, services, people, information, and finance. It is a process that is agile and resilient, though often impacted by external factors such as a pandemic, natural disaster, climate change, civil unrest, and public safety.

In response to those who claim we have entered an era of deglobalization, one could point out that world trade volume and value have expanded by 4 percent and 6 percent, respectively, since the World Trade Organization (WTO) was established in 1995. Moreover, services trade, excluded in global trade reporting, is ever-increasing, now exceeding $6.1 trillion, over one-fifth of total world trade in goods and services. Notable also is that services trade, in contrast with merchandise trade, produces a yearly surplus for the United States.

Whereas globalism is static—after all, it is a credo—globalization is evolving. Recognizably, trade among nations ebbs and flows. To illustrate, U.S. imports of goods from China dropped to less than 17 percent last year from a high of 22 percent in 2017. Countries such as Mexico, Vietnam, and South Korea have gained a share over China, with Vietnam boosting its exports to the U.S. to $120 billion, a more than tenfold increase since 2007. At the same time, China’s footprint in the Americas is increasing dramatically, and Beijing is now the second-largest trade partner in the region after the United States.

Another feature of globalization today is concentration. No region is close to being self-sufficient. Every region relies on trade with others for more than 25 percent of at least one important type of good. According to the McKinsey Global Institute, 40 percent of global trade is “concentrated.” To illustrate, the United States imports nearly all of its semitrailer trucks and light goods vehicles from Mexico, while Mexico imports nearly all of its maize, propane, and refined petroleum products from the United States. This concentration improves efficiency and product availability, but complications can ensue, especially when products are harder to replace on short notice. Pandemic lockdowns in China and the Russian invasion of Ukraine are two examples.

As a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, the topic of supply chains has moved from the back burner to the front burner. Shortages of personal protection equipment, congested ports, and the limited number of supply sources for certain inputs, such as semiconductors, served as a wake-up call for companies to diversify and build redundancies into their supply chains and, where feasible, onshore or at least nearshore production.

Finally, neglected in discussions of trade and globalization is “domestic capability and domestic demand”—locally produced goods for both foreign and domestic markets. Firms like the Mexican auto parts producer Delphi supply both internal and external markets. As technical capabilities increase among suppliers and local consumer demand grows, producers with large domestic markets, such as China, Brazil, and India, can direct more of their production internally, reducing their dependency on exports. This creates the illusion of decreased globalization.

Global trade hit a record $32 trillion in 2022, according to the United Nations. And despite the lingering impact of the pandemic, high energy prices and interest rates, sustained inflation, and negative spillovers from the war in Ukraine, world trade in goods and services and commercial interconnectedness will continue unabated.

In his 1997 volume Has Globalization Gone Too Far?, Harvard professor Dani Rodrik highlights the severe tension between the market and broad sectors of society. His assessment of globalization today is that it is not collapsing but being reshaped. Whatever the case may be and regardless of one’s position on globalization, one thing should be perfectly clear: while globalism may be debatable, globalization has evolved to a point where it is not reversible.

Jerry Haar is a professor of international business at Florida International University and a global fellow of the Woodrow Wilson Center in Washington, D.C.

Ricardo Ernst is a professor of operations and global supply chains and the Baratta Chair in Global Business at Georgetown University.

Image: VladSV/Shutterstock.

Most of the world has been focused on the brutal kinetic war that has been waged in Ukraine for almost a year. But from day one, this conflict has predominantly been a societal confrontation. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia has sought to keep Ukraine as a proxy devoid of an independent identity. Since 2014, Moscow has tried to subdue Ukraine (and deter the West from integrating it into its midst) through a combination of subversion and intimidation short of war. The failure of this approach led in late February 2022 to a brief but equally dismal flirt with blitzkrieg-style conquest, whose rapid unraveling led Russia to refocus its strategy on waging a war of attrition aimed at crushing Ukrainian society's collective resolve and the Western public’s staying power, while ensuring the Russian people's forbearance and mobilization.

In pursuing its society-centered strategy, Russia has viciously and unconscionably applied covert action, conventional weapons, nuclear threats, economic (and especially energy) leverage, information control and manipulation, cultural and religious influence, and even population transfers. Countering the Russian onslaught in their own ways and subject to dramatically different ethical standards, Ukraine and the West have also leveraged many of these very tools to thwart Russia’s grand design. Their focus has been directed at reviving Ukraine’s independent cultural and political identity while building up a separate Orthodox religious affiliation. These means have been harnessed to shore up Ukrainian endurance and mobilization for war and solidify the West’s commitment to and material support for Kyiv, notwithstanding the toll it exacts on their societies. In parallel, this approach has sought to undermine the Russian public’s tolerance and mobilization for the war and international support for Moscow.

These actions and interactions have served the three protagonists both well and poorly. All sides have thus far managed to stay the course, to an astonishing degree in the case of Ukraine and to a surprising extent by its Western allies. However, the war has exacted a huge toll on all sides, and no side has approached anything even remotely resembling victory. As a result, the confrontation has become a drawn-out war of attrition, a destructive, painful, and costly struggle of societal endurance and patience with an end neither in sight nor easy to imagine. These costs have been exacerbated further by the protagonists' open-ended commitment to total victory, which appears unrealistic. Russia is pursuing the annexation, destruction, and subjugation of Ukraine while leveraging its energy assets to stay afloat economically and harm Europe. Ukraine courageously defends itself but also professes its intent to militarily reclaim all its lost territory, including Crimea. And the West dreams of routing the Russian military (and its Wagner and Chechen proxies) by providing unprecedented levels of military, intelligence, and economic support to Ukraine and stirring dissent in Russia by imposing ever harsher economic sanctions. The resulting situation appears static, but it is inherently unstable.

After nearly a year of massive bloodletting, destruction, and monetary hemorrhage, none of the parties can articulate a credible theory of victory. Each is mobilizing for a long war, one that both Russia and Ukraine increasingly portray as existential. Yet societal patience with the open-ended confrontation and the costs it exacts is beginning to wear thin in Russia, Europe, and even the United States. It is difficult to tell where it will collapse first, as it may snap unexpectedly as patience wanes over an open-ended conflict that is taking a toll on all three societies. This impatience is reinforced by anxiety over further escalation—Belarus’ entry into the war, Ukrainian strikes deep into Russia, spillover into Transnistria/Moldova or the Baltic states, even Russian demonstrative nuclear use—happening in a desperate effort to break the stalemate or as a rage-driven response to a real or imagined grievance.

There is a fully understandable desire to see the Russian aggressor defeated, punished, and dissuaded from contemplating a replay against Ukraine or any other country. But the odds of securing all three exclusively by military means are close to zero. Hope for bringing an end to this tragic, dangerous quagmire hinges on recognizing the fundamentally society-centric nature of the conflict. Leaders must internalize the realization that the end of this dreadful duel of societal endurance will not come from a breakthrough on the physical battlefield. It will have to come from tapping the most potent societal emotions—fear and hope—to break the stalemate by encouraging all sides to contemplate heretofore unthinkable compromises in their respective war aims.

Sage leadership will henceforth be tested by leaders’ willingness and ability to internalize and credibly invoke fear and inspire hope to convince all societies involved to lay down their arms, even if they insist on sustaining other forms of hostile behavior toward each other thereafter. More specifically, they would need to acknowledge the fear that an open-ended conflict looks grim for all: further carnage, destruction, and economic devastation in Ukraine and Russia; the possible expansion and escalation of the conflict, and the prospect of their internal acquiescence and external support collapsing in the short run; and traumas haunting their societies for decades to come. But they must also inspire hope in their societies that deconfliction will usher in better times in the domains they really care about. Where could this hope and fear come from?

For Western European leaders, fear would build on anxiety about the prospects of severe popular backlash from their citizens, who are already struggling to cope with high energy prices, inflation, and the costs of supporting Ukraine, and fear the impact of further intense fighting—possible spillover of the war westward, more (permanent) Ukrainian exiles and refugees, energy insecurity, and acute governance challenges. Hope could be primarily predicated on the promise of a reliable and affordable energy supply to guarantee comfortable survival through the apex of Europe’s energy vulnerability, the winter of 2023. Hope could be further inspired by Europe’s success in sustaining alliance cohesion, resisting Russian aggression, rebuilding its military might, and stymieing Russia’s future ambitions to destabilize its neighbors.

For its part, the Biden administration must begin to fear that its population—which has borne the brunt of providing intelligence, financial, and material assistance to Ukraine—will dread the price of keeping Ukraine afloat. It must also begin fearing the distraction and partisan rancor in Washington that will come not just from staying the course, but also from gearing up to respond militarily should an increasingly frustrated Vladimir Putin elect to expand and extend his war effort. But the administration can find and inspire hope that America’s success in dealing such a blow to Russia will not only dissuade it from future adventures but also impress on China what it would risk by trying to take Taiwan by force. Additionally, Washington can expect that the cessation of overt hostilities in Europe will free its hands to focus on its internal woes and compete economically with China (and prepare for a possible military clash with Beijing).

The two hardest societies to win over and empower to weigh in with their leadership will be Putin’s Russia and Volodymyr Zelensky’s Ukraine. As both leaders have so much vested in the fight, they will not be easily swayed. But even in Russia and Ukraine, the odds look more favorable now than at any time over the last year.

For the brave and patriotic Ukrainians, fear would build on the real possibility that the future holds in store for them many more scars than they have already endured: hundreds of thousands of casualties, extensive devastation of national infrastructure, millions of displaced citizens, more abducted children, and a daily struggle to cope with the adversities of war. It would feed on the sure prospects of a continued Russian campaign to physically destroy Ukraine’s livelihood and infrastructure, exacerbated by the all but certain resumption of intense fighting in the spring. This fear would be further amplified by concerns of diminished European or U.S. support, not only now but also later, when a massive reconstruction effort will be required to put Ukraine back on its feet and woo back its refugees.

Zelensky has thus far managed to hold his people together with his admirable courage and leadership, steadfastly upholding harsh conditions for any ceasefire or settlement. But even he cannot ultimately remain indifferent to signs of domestic fragility and growing impatience among Kyiv’s backers. Zelensky and his supporters might be swayed to soften their demands and carry their population with them in return for tangible steps capable of inspiring hope: a promise of additional military support if Russia continues fighting, ironclad Western security guarantees against renewed Russian aggression, a smooth path to European Union accession (and close affiliation in the interim), and a major commitment for reconstruction aid once the conflict abates.

Similarly, for Russia, fear would come from the likelihood of an open-ended confrontation in which Ukraine enjoys extensive military support—including the major combat platforms it will soon receive from its Western supporters—as well as precise targeting information, which has already shown its efficacy against vulnerable and chaotically managed Russian forces. Even the remarkably adamant and aloof Putin cannot remain completely oblivious to the increasingly palpable signs of domestic fatigue and anxiety resulting from Russia’s many casualties (including among forcibly recruited reservists), the public’s loss of confidence in the military’s competence, and the mounting costs of the war and Western sanctions.

While Putin has similarly held fast thus far, he must also be realizing that Russia’s bag of tricks to subdue domestic opposition, heighten the population’s anxiety about Western or “Nazi” plots, and drum up popular support for the war effort keeps dwindling. But like the case of Ukraine, for these sentiments to hold any promise of producing a more conciliatory Russian approach toward a settlement, there must be an injection of hope for Russians: that Western sanctions will be eased and subsequently removed, that NATO will not be further expanded eastward, and that a genuine effort will be made to reintegrate Russia into the mainstream—economically, politically, and, perhaps most importantly, symbolically—if its orientation fundamentally changes. Additionally, the West must also reluctantly commit not to go after Putin (if and when he relents and accepts the conditions it lays out), leaving the job of removing him from office to divine intervention or the Russian people themselves.

Ariel (Eli) Levite is a Senior Fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace Technology and International Affairs Program.

Image: kibri_ho/Shutterstock.com

The planned development will bring jobs, but raises questions about who speaks for Khoi and San peoples, what is sacred, and how to commemorate injustice.

Forgetting the site where Russia became a nuclear power comes with its own risks.

In an op-ed retweeted and hailed by the Atlantic Council, National Interest editor Jacob Heilbrunn emphasized that Germany’s decision to send tanks to Ukraine will help crush Russia. He underscored several points that led him to the conclusion that Russian president Vladimir Putin has signed his death warrant by invading Ukraine. His assessment was eloquent, sweeping—and wrong.

Heilbrunn is on his strongest ground in arguing that the Western alliance, in contradistinction to what Putin had expected, has cast its die not only to outlast him in Ukraine but also to crush Russian aspirations for hegemony in Europe once and for all. He contended that whereas Berlin’s decision has symbolically freed Germany from the strictures that it operated under after World War II, it has practically liberated countries such as Poland and Finland to transfer German-made tanks to aid a forthcoming Ukrainian offensive this spring. Next he stressed that Putin was time and again wrong in his miscalculation that he would swiftly sweep over Ukraine and break up the Western alliance. Fundamentally, Heilbrunn argued that Putin—by rejuvenating the Western alliance, inadvertently arousing America from its post-Cold War torpor and unifying Ukrainians against him—has faced a “fight to the finish” which he cannot win.

I fully agree with Heilbrunn that Putin has miscalculated. Indeed, he committed a strategic blunder by invading. Moscow has already lost the war for Kyiv. But the story does not end there even if Heilbrunn is too blind to recognize it. The cold, hard truth is that Putin will never concede defeat and will stand his ground in the Crimea and Donbas, which he will fight for until the “finish” using nuclear warheads should the need arise to secure his survival there.

I also fault Heilbrunn for contextualizing the Ukraine crisis within a Western political mindset incognizant of both the weight of history and geography on Russia’s collective consciousness and the ramifications of the crisis for the international order in general and American global power in particular. The notion that Russia aspires for hegemony in Europe is bogus. Whatever policies and actions Moscow has pursued towards Europe have been essentially directed to foil any Western attempt to choke Russia into indefensible borders that would deprive it of a global role. The disintegration of the Soviet Union, the heir of imperial Russia, has transformed a once ambitious and assertive empire into a state striving to conceal its insecurities. Although Russia posed no threat to the West following the collapse of the Soviet Union, NATO has relentlessly expanded to the doorstep of Russia. NATO towered over the historical capital of Peter the Great, and Washington planned to bring Kyiv and Tbilisi into the orbit of NATO, effectively completing the encirclement of Russia. In 2008, the year that President George W. Bush called for extending NATO membership to Ukraine and Georgia, President Dmitry Medvedev addressed Euro-Atlantic security and Russia’s security concerns in Evian, emphasizing:

The real issue is that NATO is bringing its military infrastructure right up to our borders and is drawing new dividing lines in Europe, this time along our western and southern frontiers. No matter what we are told, it is only natural that we should see this as action directed against us.

This expansion of NATO, in the aftermath of the unilateral U.S. invasion of Iraq, compounded by NATO’s key role in ousting Muammar Qaddhafi’s regime in Libya, reified Russian perception of NATO’s leader United States as a global hegemon cavalierly indifferent to Russia’s true national security concerns.

It follows from this that Heilbrunn’s contention that Berlin’s decision to send Leopard tanks to Ukraine to help it battle Russia and to symbolically free Germany from the strictures that it operated under after World War II is imprudent. From the Russian standpoint, this decision conjures up Russian images of German tanks leading the Nazi blitzkrieg into Russia, which was only reversed at a staggering human cost. In fact, this decision flouts the historical ideational foundation that Russia has played a key role in shaping our geopolitical role, which clearly has not yet ended. It is incontrovertible that Moscow’s bloody battles against both Napoleon Bonaparte in 1812 and Adolf Hitler in 1941 paved the way for the success of the Waterloo and Normandy landings, both of which shaped our contemporary geopolitical world.

These feats colored in spilled Russian blood are ingrained in the country’s collective consciousness and psyche that the West tends to forget to the chagrin of Moscow. Freeing up Germany, Poland, and Finland to send German tanks to aid a Ukrainian spring offensive to cross Kherson into the Donbas and Crimea is tantamount to jangling Moscow’s sensitive historical, political, and cultural nerves. Herein lay the Western alliance and Heilbrunn’s misguided view of Russia’s eventual indetermination to hold onto these territories. In other words, the Western alliance is waging a war ignorant of Russia’s red lines and how it may unfold. It is ignoring Russia’s historical, cultural, and political bonds to these territories, and more specifically discounts Russia’s possible wide-ranging responses to defend these territories.

The Donbas has been integral to the formation of Russia and thereafter the Soviet Union since Moscow’s defeat of the Mongols in the fifteenth century. Significantly, Crimea and its vicinity in eastern-southern Russia figured prominently in Moscow’s drive to expand, protect, and project the power of the Tsarist Empire. Early on, Peter the Great set his sights on the Sea of Azov and Crimea. He seized the Azov fortress from the Ottomans, formerly known as Azak fortress, overlooking the port of Azov, and in September 1698, he founded the first Russian Navy base, Taganrog, on the Sea of Azov. Catherine the Great continued his imperial project and seized Crimea and its vicinity in 1774, whereupon Moscow established its strategic naval base at Sevastopol, which has served as the main base of Russia’s Black Sea fleet. Moscow not only established a strategic foothold on the Black Sea but also projected its power over the restive Caucuses. From Moscow’s past to the present, Crimea and Donbas have constituted a center of geopolitical gravity and prestige for Moscow as a big power.

Putin has not only underscored their historical, strategic, and cultural importance but also made them a testament to his legitimacy as the leader who reconstituted Russia as a big power. In his address to the Duma in March 2014, for example, Putin stressed:

Everything in Crimea speaks of our shared history and pride. This is the location of ancient Khersones, where Prince Vladimir was baptized. His spiritual feat of adopting Orthodoxy predetermined the overall basis of the culture, civilization and human values that unite the peoples of Russia, Ukraine and Belarus.  

He then added:

It was only when Crimea ended up as part of a different country that Russia realized that it was not simply robbed, it was plundered… Now, many years later, I heard residents of Crimea say that back in 1991 they were handed over like a sack of potatoes. This is hard to disagree with. And what about the Russian state? What about Russia? It humbly accepted the situation. This country was going through such hard times then that realistically it was incapable of protecting its interests. However, the people could not reconcile themselves to this outrageous historical injustice.

Putin’s speech underscored the humility with which Moscow had to deal with in the aftermath of the disintegration of the Soviet Union. But more importantly, Putin stressed the notion that Crimea is an inseparable part of Russia and a cornerstone of its emergence as a civilization and an empire. Keeping Crimea is an act of righting an egregious historical injustice committed against Moscow. Crimea and Donbas are Russia’s red lines.

Indeed, as Heilbrunn rightly postulates, Putin has revivified the Western alliance, aroused America from its post-Cold War torpor, and unified Ukrainians. But what he, along with the Western alliance and mainstream media, fails to realize is that Putin may have lost Kyiv but he will not lose Crimea. Medvedev recently emphasized that “the defeat of a nuclear power in a conventional war may trigger a nuclear war." Patriarch Kirill, the head of the Russian Orthodox Church, said in a sermon: "We pray to the Lord that he bring the madmen to reason and help them understand that any desire to destroy Russia will mean the end of the world."

One may assume that these statements reflect Russia’s recognition that it may lose on the battlefield. But these statements are illustrative of how Russia perceives itself as a proud nation with a unique history and culture that has paid a staggering price to help shape our geopolitical world. It would behoove the Western alliance to realize that to overplay its hand is to flirt with playing with nuclear fire. The notion that someone armed with a nationalist history and the largest inventory of nuclear warheads—whose use in conventional warfare is official military doctrine—will go quietly into the night is far-fetched.

Contrary to Heilbrunn’s optimistic predictions, I foresee something far darker—a broken world bedeviled by nuclear anarchy and perilous insecurity. I see a Western alliance waging a war of conscience whose cost will be prohibitive to humanity. Why Heilbrunn, normally an astute observer of international affairs, cannot discern these palpably obvious perils is baffling to me.   

Dr. Robert G. Rabil is a professor of political science at Florida Atlantic University. He is the author of highly commended peer-reviewed articles and books including: Embattled Neighbors: Syria, Israel and Lebanon (2003); Syria, the United States and the War on Terror in the Middle East (2006); Religion, National Identity and Confessional Politics in Lebanon (2011); Salafism in Lebanon: From Apoliticism to Transnational Jihadism (2014); The Syrian Refugee Crisis in Lebanon: The Double Tragedy of Refugees and Impacted Host Communities (2016, 2018);and  White Heart (2018). He is the author of the forthcoming Lebanon: From Ottoman Rule to Erdogan’s Regime (2023). He served as the Red Cross’s Chief of Emergency in Baabda region, Beirut, during Lebanon’s civil war. He was the project manager of the US State Department-funded Iraq Research and Documentation Project. He was awarded the LLS Distinguished Faculty Award and the LLS Distinguished Professor of Current Affairs. He was also awarded an honorary Ph.D. in Humanities from the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts. He can be reached @robertgrabil.

Image: Salma Bashir Motiwala/Shutterstock.

When Alan Turing cracked the Enigma code during the Second World War, neither the United Kingdom nor the United States immediately published a paper announcing the achievement. Instead, they kept it to themselves so they could keep reading Nazi messages encrypted using Engima machines. Last month, in contrast, Chinese academics from government-run laboratories and research organizations published a paper claiming to have developed a new mathematical strategy to break RSA encryption, today’s standard.

If the Chinese government can crack RSA encryption, then they can break into every U.S. government and private sector system, seeing and exfiltrating anything and everything, achieving true information dominance over Washington and its allies and partners.

There are reasons to doubt the accuracy of the paper’s claims, however, and even more reasons to question why Chinese researchers would show their hand if they really cracked our codes.

Some day, computer scientists will break RSA encryption. But before that happens, they will need to have the right tools. Based on the current understanding of math, breaking RSA encryption will require quantum computers, which harness the principles of quantum physics to accelerate problem-solving exponentially.

The race to quantum computing is well underway. In November, IBM launched the largest quantum computer yet, the Osprey. This milestone “brings us a step closer” to “the coming era of quantum-centric supercomputing,” IBM’s director of research said. But the Osprey cannot yet solve the complex mathematical problems facing those who want to break RSA encryption. Beijing, however, claims it can break RSA encryption with a hybrid approach combining classical computing and quantum computing using a smaller quantum computer.

If China really broke RSA encryption, they wouldn’t tell us. Perhaps China is trying to get a seat at the table, seeking invitations to collaborate with quantum research facilities overseas. These invitations may have dried up after Washington enacted a series of policies blocking quantum technology sharing with China because of quantum’s military applications. If invitations were the goal, however, the Chinese paper’s authors may have shot themselves in the foot by revealing they are lagging years behind foreign competitors. The approach the researchers take in their paper is similar to one described in another paper published five years ago by an American quantum software company, explains Kevin Kane, the CEO of American Binary, a cybersecurity company focused on security in the quantum era.

Beijing has previously published what appears to be cutting-edge research in efforts to garner praise, only to have that research debunked later. This seems to be the case yet again. Numerous quantum and computer science experts have already raised doubts about the new paper’s findings. The mathematical strategy the paper explores is not scalable to very large numbers, explains Kane. Nevertheless, he warns if the paper is truthful, it indicates China is further ahead than we thought and is making important progress. University of Austin computer science professor Scott Aaronson, meanwhile, pans the Chinese academics for misleading claims that their approach is faster than classical computing when in fact it appears not to be.

Given the scale of the threat, however, dismissing the Chinese claims as mere boasting would be dangerous. For a moment, set aside the question of whether or not the math works. Why would China sacrifice significant strategic advantage for academic bragging rights?

Perhaps the Chinese government is trying to convince the world that it has cracked RSA encryption to build a kind of deterrence. If one repeats false information often enough, others may start believing it, especially if they are scared to begin with. The quantum paper could be part of a series of efforts to convince the United States that China has obtained unsurpassable technological dominance. Beijing may be betting that, facing a stronger adversary, American decisionmakers will acquiesce to China’s will on various global issues.

Discerning Beijing’s motivations may be challenging, but one should recall Sun Tzu’s words: “Those skilled in warfare move the enemy and are not moved by the enemy.” Beijing’s strategic planners are no doubt watching to see how America and its allies respond—how much handwringing Washington engages in, how much reactive behavior, and how much resignation. The Chinese academics may have revealed their hand, but Washington should not. Part of America’s assessment of its next actions should be an evaluation of what lessons China might learn from how the U.S. government reacts.

Regardless of why the paper was published, the day is rapidly approaching when quantum computers will break today’s encryption. America and its allies must reach this milestone first while also raising security and encryption standards to protect against an adversary with advanced, encryption-breaking capabilities. Both of these steps require government and private investment in quantum research and development and in cultivating the skilled workforce needed to conduct this research and realize solutions.

Dr. Georgianna Shea is the chief technologist of the Center on Cyber and Technology Innovation (CCTI) at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies (FDD).

Annie Fixler is the director of CCTI and an FDD research fellow. Follow Annie on Twitter @afixler.

Image: Flickr/IBM Research.

In 2013, a political counselor at the Turkish embassy in Washington asked me out to lunch to discuss my plans and vision for the Institute of Turkish Studies, which I was then executive director of. After ordering a meal at Zorba’s, a Greek restaurant in Dupont Circle, we sat outside on a sunny day and began talking in Turkish. A few minutes later, our server brought over our dishes and asked where in Turkey we were from. After telling her, she said she was Cypriot and extolled a short tale of her childhood memories on the now-divided island with her Greek and Turkish Cypriot friends. After she left, we continued our discussion, only to see her come back one more time to offer us a complimentary dessert that was backed with her hope that one day, the island would be reunited. Today, I cannot envision a Turkish diplomat asking me out to lunch—and even if they did, it would not likely be at a Greek restaurant. Turkey’s stance in the Eastern Mediterranean since 2019 has increased tensions to the point that armed conflict is possible. That being said, a negotiated settlement in Cyprus may be the key to regional peace and stability. It’s a problem that the United States has the clout to resolve.

Put simply, the resolution of the Cyprus question, the last divided island in Europe, will be vital for stability in the Eastern Mediterranean and could also yield a long list of benefits that surpass the geographical interests of regional actors. To be clear, attempting to resolve the Cyprus question is no simple task: entire military, diplomatic and political careers have begun and ended in Cyprus since the 1974 Turkish invasion divided the island and embittered relations between Turkey and actors in the Eastern Mediterranean. Resolving it would require considerable diplomatic investment by the United States, comparable to the role it played in resolving the Northern Ireland conflict and the Balkan wars. That being said, the United States is already aware of the value of Cyprus, albeit to a very limited degree. For instance, by recently lifting an arms embargo that had been imposed on the island since the late 1980s, the United States freed the Republic of Cyprus (the internationally recognized government on the southern part of the island) to facilitate the shipment of its existing stockpiles of Soviet-era weaponry to Ukraine.

The Biden administration needs to go further and unlock the full potential that a negotiated settlement of the Cyprus question can offer. Failing to resolve the Cyprus question continues to bring the region and the rest of the world closer to war. This has never been more important than in the new epoch of great power competition we have entered. Indeed, without a viable solution to the Cyprus question that is acceptable to the involved parties, Western security will remain in a perpetual state of fragility.

A negotiated settlement over Cyprus came close to success in 2004 under the auspices of United Nations (UN) Secretary-General Kofi Annan. Dubbed the “Annan Plan,” the settlement would have reunified the island by integrating the Turkish-occupied northern part of the former British-Ottoman colony into a single unified country made up of two constituent states. The negotiations were long and painful, with each side having to make hard concessions. Turkey, for its part, would have agreed to remove the bulk of its military presence from the island, which hovers around 30,000 troops. Ankara also agreed to relinquish territories it seized during the invasion. The Greek Cypriots would have had to come to terms with sharing power with their Turkish counterparts in governing the island. Moreover, had the deal succeeded, Turkish would have become an official European Union (EU) language, advancing Turkey’s efforts to become a full member of the EU.

Even though the details were agreed upon by all sides, the deal ultimately collapsed due to a “no” vote by Greek Cypriots in a public referendum. The referendum failed for one simple reason: the Republic of Cyprus was going to be allowed to enter the EU regardless of whether a settlement was reached with the Turks. In other words, the leadership had little incentive to let the plan succeed. Following the plan’s demise, the ensuing years have resulted in all sides reverting to blaming one another for the lack of a new settlement. Furthermore, the Republic of Cyprus’ entry into the EU as a divided island has worsened relations between Ankara and Brussels. At this point, neither Turkey, Greece, nor the two sides in Cyprus are close to a settlement. Turkey insists on the unrealistic position of a two-state solution, while Cyprus and Greece feel relatively vindicated in doing the bare minimum to return to the negotiating table.

One could shrug their shoulders and say this is just a European problem, or even merely the problem of the disputing sides. They would be wrong.

While the Republic of Cyprus is a member of the EU, it is not a member of NATO. And while Turkey is a member of NATO, it is not a member of the EU. Both Cyprus and Turkey prevent the other from joining the entity of which they are a member because of their political differences over the future status of Cyprus. Collaboration to secure a common European and transatlantic security framework that is part and parcel of both NATO and the EU is arguably the most important strategic security consideration since the end of the Cold War. Russia’s ability to invade Ukraine without batting an eye is arguably linked to the lack of comprehensive security architecture uniting NATO and the EU. If one doubts this, one only needs to consider Russian leader Vladimir Putin’s decision to invade Ukraine knowing full well that the EU would not pose a military obstacle to his ambitions. While Putin may have (thus far) miscalculated Europe’s economic resolve to punish Russia, this has not impacted his determination to press on with his “special military operation.” Future attempts to prevent Russian irredentist actions lie in developing an integrated and reimagined Western security architecture that brings NATO and the EU together. The only way to accomplish this is to resolve the Cyprus question, which will finally allow Cyprus to join NATO and Turkey to once again re-engage in its EU membership bid or at least be included in any emerging European security framework.

Related to this is Europe’s now urgent need to end its dependence on Russian natural gas. Since the beginning of the Russo-Ukrainian War, Europe has witnessed a dramatic cut in its gas supplies from Russia. An alternative and viable source of natural gas to serve Europe’s demand lies within the exclusive economic zone (EEZ) of Cyprus. Through cooperation with the countries that now comprise the East Mediterranean Gas Forum (EMGF), the extraction of gas sources to Europe via Greece stands a good chance of being commercially viable. However, Turkey is not part of the EMGF, primarily because it does not recognize Cyprus. As a result, Ankara contests Cyprus’ right to award drilling contracts to Western oil companies, mainly by deploying its own exploration and drilling vessels into Cypriot (and Greek) waters, often escorted by elements of the Turkish Navy. While the Republic of Cyprus has the diplomatic upper hand in being the internationally recognized government of the island, this does not resolve the risk that conflict may arise due to some miscalculation by either the Turkish, Greek, or Cypriot militaries. This would be a catastrophic development that would engulf Europe into a state of war; at least two of the warring parties would be NATO members and two would be EU states. The future of a stable Mediterranean gas supply to Europe must come at the tail end of a political solution to Cyprus. This would result in the reunification of the island, with Turkey establishing full diplomatic ties with Cyprus. In doing so, the question of contested waters, EEZs, and bilateral tensions would be addressed through diplomacy, paving the way for conflict-free gas supplies to reach Europe and further reducing Russia’s importance as a gas supplier.

Finally, and possibly tangentially, a U.S.-brokered Cyprus deal could ignite the spark to rekindle American and Turkish ties, which began sharply deteriorating over significant differences over Syria and the fight to eliminate the Islamic State. Since then, the bilateral relationship between the supposed “strategic partners” has worsened substantially, to the point that the Trump administration was forced to sanction Turkey due to President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s insistence on purchasing Russian missile defense technology in 2019 instead of Western alternatives. Driven by a fundamental loss of trust on both sides, the toxicity in the relationship has reached unprecedented levels. President Joe Biden did not speak with Erdogan in the first eighteen months of his term, while Turkey continues to block Finland and Sweden’s accession to NATO. An American diplomatic investment in the Cyprus problem may be just what is required to rekindle the partnership.

While establishing trust between the American and Turkish governments will be hard in the short term, U.S. diplomatic efforts to settle the Cyprus dispute could be seen as sincere by the Turks and could go a long way to re-establishing meaningful dialogue between the Cold War allies. The benefit to the United States and West could be huge: a reset between Washington and Ankara over the Cyprus issue could incentivize Turkey to distance itself from Moscow, which it has been reluctant to do since the mid-2010s. A dialogue focused on resolving the issue could pave the way to rebuilding trust, offer Ankara alternatives down the road to offload its Russian S-400 missiles, and help the Turkish military acquire its much-needed F-16 fighters.

This brings us to the question of why Washington should broker a negotiated settlement in Cyprus and how it could actually succeed. Put simply, the United States is the only actor with enough diplomatic clout to be considered credible by all sides in the dispute. The Obama administration missed an opportunity to take on this issue, mainly because it considered it relatively unimportant. This mistake should not be repeated. This is a festering issue that carries with it the potential to embroil the whole of the Western hemisphere in a catastrophic military conflict that would destabilize NATO’s eastern flank. But through a settlement, NATO and European security could be enhanced by resolving the Turkish and Cypriot objections that prevent defense integration.

Unfortunately, the EU is not a credible entity in the eyes of Turkey, as Cyprus and Greece are already members. This is a non-starter. The UN is often thought to be the next logical choice. After all, it was the main force behind the 2004 negotiations. However, in this climate, the UN does not have the ability to arm-twist and offer incentives like the United States. A special envoy tasked by the White House to oversee negotiations is the only viable option to resolve the Cyprus quagmire.

The United States has several cards up its sleeve that could prove decisive in moving the needle toward an equitable solution. First, Washington is a relative novice with the issue and is looked upon less suspiciously by all parties. Second, the United States has a proven ability to get conflicting sides to the table. For instance, Washington brought together Yasser Arafat and Yitzhak Rabin, Sinn Fein and the British government, and Israel and the signatories to the Abraham Accords.

As far as convincing Turkey to come to the table and abandon its insistence on a two-state solution, Washington could entice Ankara with conditional commitments on F-16 sales, provided that Turkey moves decisively to divest itself of its S-400 inventories (and generally become a more amicable member of NATO). Of greater interest to Ankara would be for the United States to pitch a free trade agreement. This would be an important gain, as it would provide an economic dimension to anchor the U.S.-Turkish strategic partnership, which has always been missing since the beginning of the Cold War. With increased economic ties, Turkey and America’s likelihood of falling out with one another would be reduced.

Arm-twisting the Greek Cypriots may be a little harder. That being said, they are interested in acquiring U.S.-manufactured weapons systems, which could be made contingent on their willingness to negotiate in good faith. America could also convince the United Kingdom to transform its sovereign bases on the island into NATO bases—something the Greek Cypriots would very much welcome. Obviously, these are initial suggestions that only demonstrate the bargaining power that the United States may possess. Reaching a negotiated settlement is likely to be challenging due to long-standing issues such as the status of Turkish troops on the island, property/land disputes, and the future of settled Turks on the island.

It’s understandable that Washington is focused on the war in Ukraine and the pacing threat of China. However, a price is attached to being the leader of the liberal international order. Nature abhors a vacuum, and the absence of American leadership in major theaters is being preyed upon by China and Russia. Cyprus is one such theater. Peacefully resolving this intractable problem will yield much more than merely mending relations between Turkey, Greece, and Cyprus. It will be a fundamental component of efforts to limit Russian influence over allies such as Turkey, secure energy sources independent of Moscow, and integrate the European and transatlantic security framework.

This is easier said than done. Prioritizing Cyprus will require vision and leadership. Sadly, this is largely absent in Washington—a problem not confined to the United States. The Western hemisphere is bereft of effective leaders. Reuniting Cyprus through a negotiated settlement—and reaping the array of rewards it would bring—will require not just a vision but a fundamental rethinking. Western leaders must focus on the costs of not taking action rather than the costs of taking action. This approach helped create a robust and attractive world order after World War II. Without such leadership and strategic foresight, turbulence and decay in the Eastern Mediterranean may lead to armed conflict.

Sinan Ciddi is a non-resident senior fellow at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies (FDD), where he contributes to FDD’s Turkey Program and Center on Military and Political Power (CMPP). He is also an Associate Professor of Security Studies at the Command and Staff College-Marine Corps University and Georgetown University’s School of Foreign Service.

Image: Ververidis Vasilis/Shutterstock.com

Test yourself on the week of Jan. 21: India blocks a film, Ukraine gets tanks, and Peru battles growing protests.

Fed up with the economy and a political crackdown, young Turks are increasingly looking abroad to find their futures.

Washington takes on financial risks that Beijing can’t afford.

Silicon Valley has spent years courting India, but its companies face an increasingly tricky censorship minefield in the world’s largest democracy.

Germany and the United States are sending Leopards and M1 Abrams tanks—but Washington’s desired endgame is still a mystery.

German tanks, Russia’s looming offensive, and what the global south is waiting for.

Riyadh seeks to leverage ongoing anti-government protests to extract geopolitical concessions from Tehran—not effect regime change.

Members of the customs union Mercosur pledge to ease internal trade and explore new deals abroad.

Wagner Group liaisons have reportedly already been seen in the country.

Suppose one were to plot out on a map the progress of two jihadist insurgencies in Africa: the Islamic insurgency in the Maghreb and the Boko Haram insurgency. The former began in Algeria after the 2002 Algerian Civil War and has since spread east into Libya, northwest into Morocco, southwest into Mauritania, and south into Mali. The latter insurgency began in the extreme northeast of Nigeria and has since spread east into Chad, north into Niger, and west into Benin. If one were to do this, shading in each country along the way, one would see that a single, little-known country stands in the way of both insurgencies, impeding their expansion and separating their fighters in the field. That country is Burkina Faso.

Last weekend, the military government of Burkina Faso demanded that France withdraw its last 400 special forces troops from the country. France had kept the fighters in Burkina Faso after a recent series of troop withdrawals on the continent to assist in the fight against jihadist insurgents. The current Burkinabe military government took power in September 2022 in a coup against the old military government over its failure to handle the nation’s insurgency. Likewise, the previous military government took power in a January 2022 coup against former President Roch Marc Christian Kabore over his failure to handle the nation’s insurgency. The French troops in Burkina Faso had been sent by French president François Hollande in 2013 at Mali’s request after jihadist groups overran the northern half of the country. Moreover, the French troops proved effective. In 2014, France launched Operation Barkhane and, within a year, rolled back jihadist gains and confined the insurgents to a few remote pockets deep in the country’s interior. If the last French troops leave within a month, as the new Burkinabe government demanded, jihadist groups operating in Africa may be encouraged to redouble their efforts against the governments of the Maghreb and the Sahel.

It is no exaggeration to say that the fate of all of Africa might hang in the balance. As Burkina Faso goes, so will the continent.

The southern half of Burkina Faso lies in the lush Sudanian savannah. This savannah is the type of landscape that most Americans associate with Africa—a luxuriant, tropical grassland broken by trees and shrubs. Burkina Faso’s northern half, however, lies in the Sahel, which stretches across the African continent, from the Atlantic Ocean in the west to the Red Sea in the east. The Sahel abuts the Sahara Desert and often features in global news cycles because of the many famines and droughts brought about by its harsh, semi-arid climate. It is important to recall that most African countries have only a wet and a dry season. In the savannah, the dry season means the trees lose their leaves, the shrubs shrink back, and the grasses dry out, only to bounce back in greater abundance when the rains arrive. In the Sahel, however, the wet season means that pastoralists hurry to graze their herds on the region’s sparse grasses before the dry season reduces the area to a desert.

Just as the Sudanian savannah teems with exotic wildlife, the Sahel brims with people; indeed, the region contains countries with some of the world’s highest birth rates. This vitality has also led to a troubling trend from which the Sahel gains most of its notoriety. Jihadist insurgent groups prowl about the region’s isolated settlements, terrorizing civilians and seeking recruits. The Sahel’s climatic volatility aids the jihadists in this latter endeavor, as desperate young men with no other source of employment can easily see in these jihadi groups a solution to their economic insecurity. When jihadism is the only show in town, an AK-47 becomes a meal ticket.

Traditionally, the Burkinabe government has handled the vast difference between its two main biogeographic regions and its peoples by applying a simple policy: in the wet season, maximize the country’s agricultural and pastoral productivity, especially in the fertile south, and use the taxes and other proceeds to employ workers in the north during the dry season, lest they become targets for jihadi groups. Under President Blaise Compaore, who took power in 1987 and resigned during a constitutional crisis in 2014, this policy smoothed over the seasonal transitions and ensured peace and stability. Compaore also enjoyed productive relations with regional Islamic organizations, managing to peacefully free many hostages. However, Compaore’s administration suffered from a failure in succession planning: he sought to cling to power with a constitutional amendment and made no provision for how to peacefully contain protests in the event of a public uprising. Within weeks of the proposed changes, Compaore had no choice but to step down and allow a military government to take power.

After Compaore stepped down, Burkina Faso went through six short-lived administrations. During that period, rival claimants to the presidency obstructed the smooth collection and spending of government funds to mitigate climatic concerns and their political repercussions. The exact chronology of what happened next is complicated due to the number of insurgent groups involved and their tendency to merge, split, and reconfigure themselves, but the upshot is that insurgents moved into northern Burkina Faso from Mali, adding a theater to the Islamist insurgency in the Maghreb and exposing a previously stable country to the ravages of opportunistic militant groups. Meanwhile, Nigeria—which had faced a devastating civil conflict since 2009, when Boko Haram launched its rebellion against the Nigerian government with the intent of establishing an Islamic state—saw an escalation in its conflict with Boko Haram when the jihadist group pledged allegiance to the Islamic State, kidnapped 276 schoolgirls, and embarked on a campaign of daily attacks against Christians and government officials. During that time, the French-led Operation Barkhane employed thousands of French and allied African troops to push back against militant groups. It proved successful until the 2021 Malian coup caused France to wind down and finally end operations in Mali.

Now that the Burkinabe government has announced its desire for a full French withdrawal, the security situation seems poised to deteriorate further. The worst case scenario is that jihadi fighters from the Maghreb insurgency could establish a foothold in Burkina Faso, swarm across the narrow territory of Togo, link up with Boko Haram insurgents in Benin, and from there flood into southern Nigeria. The best case scenario is that these jihadi groups resume their old rivalries instead of joining forces and devote more time to fighting each other than securing areas of the Sahel and Sudanian savannah to prepare for attacks, including against Europe and the United States.

There are no easy solutions or obvious paths forward for the worsening security crisis in West Africa. The situation is made even more complicated by Ghanaian president Nana Akufo-Addo’s allegations that the Burkinabe government hired the Wagner Group to help combat jihadists.  If true, such a deal could precipitate further escalation between the West and Russia. Furthermore, the United States and its allies ought to have been humbled by the chaotic withdrawal from Afghanistan and should approach any long-term military entanglement with caution.

However, the United States and its allies might do well to employ a strategy that seems obvious but wouldn’t attract the same attention as a military response: economic incentives. So far, the French and their West African partners have sought to reduce the number of jihadist fighters in the most traditional way: killing them. By way of historical analogy, the current French war on jihadism in West Africa seems to resemble the French campaign in Egypt and Syria from 1798 to 1801. Despite a string of early successes under Napoleon, the French ultimately had no choice but to withdraw their Armee d’Orient for lack of military and material support. Operation Barkhane sought to build on the success of Operation Serval but failed for the same reasons.

Instead, the French should recall another episode: the Viking siege of Paris in the ninth century. After the Frankish successors of Charlemagne proved incapable of deterring Viking attacks, the Vikings grew bold and, for the first time, settled in for a long siege instead of launching one of their usual raids. The Frankish king, Charles the Fat, ultimately opted to pay the Vikings 700 pounds in silver to abandon their siege and attack a rebellious region of the Frankish empire instead. Though fighting and raiding played a key role in Viking religion and culture, Viking raids also had clear economic motives. In the Sahel, where an AK-47 is like a meal ticket for desperate young African men in the way a battle axe might have once been a meal ticket for desperate young Scandinavian men, perhaps it is not necessary to kill insurgents if it is possible to disincentivize insurgency itself. Direct cash payments for public service or other projects could have a deterrent effect, as might grants to establish small businesses for aspiring entrepreneurs or feed depots for herders.

Jihadist insurgency in West Africa seems like both an intractable long-term threat and a present danger. Still, the United States ought to help France formulate alternative approaches to the problem to avoid repeating the same mistake and expecting a different result. One of the key consequences of the Viking siege of Paris was the Franks’ acknowledgment of the strategic importance of Paris. Perhaps the present crisis will at least alert the United States and its allies to the strategic importance of Burkina Faso, the linchpin of security in the Sahel and West Africa.

Anthony J. Tokarz is a banker, political consultant, and amateur historian from northern New Jersey. Additionally, Anthony occasionally moonlights as a policy consultant for the Federation of Catholic Family Associations in Europe (FAFCE), a Brussels-based NGO that advocates for the rights of families and children in the European Union and at the Council of Europe. The views expressed in his writing are his own.

Image: DVIDS.

The Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) of August 2022 is the cornerstone of the Biden administration’s energy and climate change policy, earmarking $369 billion for energy security and climate change. It is also galvanizing the creation of a North American Battery Belt. The matrix of battery and electric vehicles (EVs) manufacturing plants stretches from the old Rust Belt states in the Great Lakes region through Tennessee and Kentucky and into a swath of southern states. It also reaches parts of Canada and Mexico. For those states where the battery belt is expanding, this means jobs, revenues, and better infrastructure. The Battery Belt and, by extension, the EV industry, is a substantial development for the U.S. economy. But the process of developing this broad expanse—as currently envisioned—is going to be a slower and more challenging process than its promoters are portraying. 

Why a Battery Belt?

Why create a Battery Belt in North America? One of the main drivers is the EV. In making the great energy transition from fossil fuel dependence to a world powered by clean energy (or renewables), gas-guzzling autos are being relegated to the dustbin of history, replaced by the no carbon footprint EV. President Joe Biden has indicated that the goal is for the U.S. auto industry to make EVs 50 percent of all vehicles sold in the U.S. by 2030. While that target may be overly optimistic, IRA is accelerating the process. And batteries, made of lithium, cobalt, graphite, and nickel, are central to the process. No batteries, no EVs. 

Equally important in the great energy transition and driving demand for batteries is the development of stationary energy systems. These are needed for the national power grid to store energy storage when wind and solar power generation may not match demand. 

A major challenge for the U.S. energy transition is the heavy dependence on China for batteries, especially in regard to the EV industry. In 2022, Chinese companies dominated the top 10 suppliers of batteries for EVs, accounting for 56 percent of world production. Chinese battery makers are also major suppliers to Mercedes-Benz, Tesla, Volvo, and Volkswagen.

China has been relentless over several decades in knocking other producers out of the industry, making adept use of a lighter environmental regulatory regime, considerable state support, and an innovative cadre of business leaders. Equally important, China’s economic statecraft is supportive of those companies that provide the raw material for batteries: its lithium mining companies are now active in South America’s lithium triangle of Argentina, Bolivia, and Chile, which account for around 30 percent of the world’s lithium. China also provides considerable support for its other mining companies securing supplies of cobalt and nickel. 

If You Build It, They Will Come

The U.S. response to China’s dominance is a combination of protectionism and government support policies to develop the local battery industry (built up around gigafactories which combine lithium-ion battery and EV component production), the development of alternative battery chemistries, and battery recycling. While the latter two options are being pursued, they require long development periods before they become cost-efficient to meet demand from EVs and other battery users. 

Earlier efforts to support the United States had a mixed record. According to the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas, an initial wave of investment came after the Great Recession, driven partially by $2.2 billion of funding allocated in the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009. However, the early battery plants were of relatively modest size, following relatively low sales of EVs. U.S. capacity fluctuated through the next decade—as China’s industry boomed. 

Three factors changed the EV battery business landscape. First, U.S.-Chinese relations soured during the Trump administration. This forced a major reassessment of U.S. supply chains and the need to bolster domestic production, including batteries. In 2022, the Biden administration invoked the Defense Production Act (from the Korean War era) with the intention of boosting the domestic supply of battery metals, with $2.8 billion going to companies working on EV battery supply chain projects in the United States. The Biden administration also entered into a pact to invest in critical mineral projects with allies such as Australia, Canada, the European Union, and the UK.

The second factor was that EVs began to sell in greater numbers, hitting record numbers globally in 2021. This was due to growing concern over climate change as well as the major U.S. auto companies recognizing that change was inevitable and that they need to compete with not only Tesla but a growing range of Chinese EV automakers, such as Great Wall and Aiways. 

The third factor was IRA, which has raised investment in the battery sector to new levels. According to Benchmark Mineral Intelligence, since IRA’s signing around $13.5 billion worth of investments have been announced, most of them clustered in the south up through the Midwest and Northeast.

The geography of the Battery Belt is being determined by proximity to auto production facilities, namely with the major U.S. companies, GM and Ford, as well as foreign companies like Toyota, Stellantis (Fiat Chrysler-PSA Group), and Volkswagen. This benefits states like Kentucky, Ohio, Tennessee, Illinois, and Michigan—as well as Canada and Mexico. States outside of the new Battery Belt include California and Nevada. 

Clean Energy, but…

While the development of a Battery Belt is a positive development for the U.S. economy, there are challenges. These include environmental concerns, indigenous peoples’ rights, finding enough skilled workers, and energy supply. In January, it was announced that the Australian lithium company Ioneer had secured a conditional commitment for a loan of up to $700 million from the U.S. Department of Energy to develop a lithium site that, when fully operational, will supply 400,000 EVs per year. Ioneer has already secured agreements with Ford and Toyota. While this indicates a degree of momentum in developing the U.S. battery and EV business, the permitting process for new lithium mines is lengthy. What could kill the project is a rare wildflower, Tiehm’s buckwheat. The Center for Biological Diversity is arguing that the lithium mine represents an “existential threat” to the flower.

Another proposed lithium mine in Nevada, Thacker Pass, is also being opposed by conservation groups. In North Carolina, another proposed mine has been stalled over regulatory issues. Currently, the United States has only one operational lithium mine, which cannot possibly meet American battery demand. This means that U.S. EV batteries will use Canadian, Argentine, or Chilean lithium. 

One last consideration is the issue of financing. For all the Biden administration’s enthusiasm for the development of a Battery Belt, ESG (Environment, Social, and Governance) represents a challenge to the mining part of Battery Belt development. Mining runs into a wall of concerns over biodiversity, ecosystem services, water management, mine waste, carbon footprint, hazardous substances, indigenous peoples’ rights, vulnerable people, and mine closure/after use. 

The U.S. battery belt is already having an impact on state and local governments in terms of jobs, revenues, and infrastructure. But Americans should be careful about the sales pitch – there is not going to be a rapid and easy transformation of energy generation and transportation. The push-pull of national security and economic needs vis-à-vis environmental concerns is part and parcel of the process. Indeed, the battery belt (and by extension critical metals mining) faces the same challenge facing wind and solar power; people support it, but don’t want it in their own backyards. There are tough choices to be made: do we keep a rare wildflower alive for future generations and not build a mine… or do we develop the mine, make batteries and EVs, and herald in a new energy age? Once the flower is gone, it cannot be replaced. 

Time is a factor in dealing with the environment. It is also a factor in geopolitics; China has little hesitation in securing access to critical metals even if the process includes environmental degradation both at home and abroad. And China wants a highly competitive battery and EV industry. This can cost the United States both jobs and revenue, as well as leave the country dependent on a rival power. America is putting the right tools on the work table to enhance its competitiveness with both batteries and EVs, but time is slipping away. Americans should remember the words of Benjamin Franklin, “Lost time is never found again.”

Dr. Scott B. MacDonald is the Chief Economist for Smith’s Research & Gradings, a Fellow with the Caribbean Policy Consortium, and a Research fellow with Global Americans. Prior to those positions, he worked for the Office of the Comptroller of the Currency, Credit Suisse, Donaldson, Lufkin and Jenrette, KWR International, and Mitsubishi Corporation. His most recent book is The New Cold War, China and the Caribbean (Palgrave Macmillan 2022).

Image: Shutterstock.