Diplomacy & Crisis News

On March 10, news broke that Saudi Arabia and Iran agreed to re-establish diplomatic relations in a deal brokered by Beijing. The deal has already sparked a mixture of celebration and consternation. After seven years of a diplomatic freeze, the thaw in relations could help bring stability to a region that has suffered from a decades-long cold war between the two countries. On the other hand, it highlights China’s increasing rise as a powerbroker, causing some to lambast the Biden administration as weak and disengaged. Moreover, the deal may squander efforts to formalize relations between Saudi Arabia and Israel, a priority for American policymakers in the region. But the truth is that diplomatic restoration between the Saudis and Iranians is unlikely to reset the strategic map of the Middle East. American officials should welcome any attempt to ease tensions, but it should also move forward with its efforts to expand the Abraham Accords.

First, it is worth noting that Saudi Arabia and Iran have experimented with détente in the past. In the 1990s, the two countries tried to heal their wounds with various diplomatic exchanges and gestures after heightened tensions during the 1980s. Instead of Beijing, it was Washington doing the prodding. At the time, Iran was severely weakened after a brutal war of attrition with Iraq. Saudi Arabia, too, was hoping to shore up the image of Islamic unity at home, still reeling from the 1979 seizure of the Grand Mosque complex in Mecca. Both were also happy to contain Saddam Hussein after his invasion of Kuwait. In 1991, the countries resumed diplomatic relations. Seven years later, in 1998, Iranian president Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani visited Riyadh for ten days to much fanfare.

But the détente did not last long. Partly due to Iran’s continuing development of its nuclear program, and partly due to the heightened sectarian violence in Iraq, the countries reverted to their previous postures. Iranians again denounced the Saudi kingdom as apostates. The Saudis returned the favor by encouraging Wahhabi preachers to condemn the Shia as rafidha. We see similar conditions today. There is no reason to believe that Iran will cease its progress toward nuclear armament just as there is no reason to believe that Saudi Arabia will sit back as a quiet observer. Diplomatic engagement and dialogue may ease tensions, but the two countries are locked into strategic opposition so long as Iran remains committed to becoming a nuclear power. 

If this is the case, the renewal of diplomatic ties does not indicate a serious change in the regional strategic map, but rather a momentary pause. Both countries have reason to capitalize on such a pause in hostilities. Iran has been desperate to escape diplomatic isolation since it became clear a year ago that the nuclear talks with the United States would not progress. Domestically it has some tending to do. For the past seven months, Tehran has dealt with countrywide protests which recently have been reinvigorated. What is more, the country faces a worsening economic crisis and a currency meltdown. Saudi Arabia, for its part, is still aiming to diversify its economy with Vision 2030. Betting on large-scale international tourism, the country’s crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman (MBS), may be realizing that peace bought by pragmatic engagement is more conducive to foreign investment than adventures in Yemen. 

These incentives to engagement, however, do not change the layout of the Middle East chess board. Iran remains a revisionist power that has capitalized on regional chaos. It maintains well-armed, extremist factions in Lebanon, Yemen, and Syria with strong influence in Iraq. So long as Iran’s leaders hold fast to Ruhollah Khomeini’s mission to spread the revolution, they will work to extend their vision of Islamic government and, in turn, challenge conservative powers like Saudi Arabia. But there is no evidence that Iranian leaders have tossed Khomeinism. In fact, their stubborn response to the recent bout of protests suggests a firm resolve.

If Saudi Arabia and Iran are still in the throes of a power competition born out of ideological cleavage, then the recent news of normalization changes little. The United States, then, should not change its previous course: build a regional bloc of conservatively-minded powers to contain Iran and foster peace in the region. This bloc is already at work on a subterranean level, but its consolidation requires normalization of relations between Israel and Saudi Arabia, i.e., formal expansion of the Abraham Accords.

Despite fears of the contrary, dreams of a fully matured Abraham Accords are alive and well. In late February, Oman announced that it would allow all passenger flights access to its airspace, including Israeli planes. What is more, just hours before the deal between Riyadh and Tehran was announced, details were released of what it would take to normalize ties with Israel. The timing of this latter announcement is everything. Riyadh knows it cannot trust Tehran. It knows that Israel wants nothing more than to normalize ties. And it knows how to get American attention. The Saudis are not making lasting peace with Iran. They are goading the United States, trying to increase their leverage in ongoing talks about Israel. That the Saudis are even publicly considering progress with Israel is particularly revealing considering the ongoing violence in the West Bank. 

The Saudi price tag for normalizing ties with Israel is steep. The Saudis demand a Palestinian state, further American security assistance, and American aid in developing a civilian nuclear program. But, like negotiating with a used car salesman, one never pays the sticker price. The Saudis are prudent enough to know that Israel will not go for a two-state solution, but they may well require that Israel work to calm tensions in the West Bank and corral the extremist voices in Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government. Similarly, the Saudis may be less eager to go nuclear if they have assurances that the United States will help prevent Iranian nuclear armament and stop any fantasy of reviving the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action. In a similar vein, selling offensive arms to Saudi Arabia will not aggravate the civil war in Yemen as some fear—MBS is tired of this conflict and knows that prospects for a decisive victory are gone. Selling offensive arms to a security ally should not be controversial. 

In short, diplomacy between Saudi Arabia and Iran is neither inimical to U.S. interests nor is it a herald of a new era of Middle East peace. U.S. policymakers should welcome any effort to ease tensions between the countries. It should also continue to strengthen an alliance between Saudi Arabia and Israel. The Abraham Accords, not the Beijing talks, will bring a more lasting peace to the Middle East. 

Max J. Prowant is a Philos Project Research Fellow with In Defense of Christians. He is also a Ph.D. Candidate in Government at the University of Texas at Austin.

Image: Shutterstock.

The war in Ukraine has resulted in ammunition shortages for U.S. troops and years-long backlogs for key weapons systems. But the danger of these shortages pales in comparison to the potential military shortages that could arise in a war over Taiwan due to America’s reliance on Beijing for Rare Earths Elements (REEs).

Experts have repeatedly urged Washington to address this critical national security vulnerability. A year ago, the Biden administration announced a new effort to address this problem, but the results are thus far underwhelming.

China only has around 36 percent of the world’s known rare earth reserves, but through a deliberate and methodical strategy, Beijing now controls more than 70 percent of the world’s extraction capability. Even more significantly, China commands nearly 90 percent of the world’s processing capacity.

Beijing’s industrial policy essentially pushed Western companies out of the rare earth mining and processing business in China. And it wasn’t just about profit. In1992, Deng Xiaoping, former general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party, declared:

The Middle East has its oil, China has rare earth: China’s rare earth deposits account for 80 percent of identified global reserves, you can compare the status of these reserves to that of oil in the Middle East: it is of extremely important strategic significance; we must be sure to handle the rare earth issue properly and make the fullest use of our country’s advantage in rare earth resources.

That is exactly what Beijing has done. During the 2010 Senkaku Islands crisis, Beijing significantly reduced the supply of REEs to Tokyo. There is no doubt that China would apply the same tactic again, what scholar Liza Tobin calls “brute force economics.” Chinese strategists have acknowledged as much in Chinese media.

The United States and other nations have contributed to the problem by undermining their own national interests. Western nations like the United States have hamstrung their ability to compete with excessive environmental regulations and onerous permitting requirements that make mining and processing extraordinarily difficult. Instead, we rely on what is extracted from countries that permit illegal mining, brutal child labor, destructive environmental practices, and simultaneous exploitation by China.

The issue has become a global problem with consequences too significant to neglect. Without question, the most serious implications of controlling REEs concern national security. Modern weapons cannot be built, repaired, maintained, and employed without them. As former senior Pentagon official Roger Zakheim warns of China’s domination of the REE market, “We've essentially ceded it to China, and that impacts everything from our F-35 fighter aircraft to the phones that we use every day in our lives.”

While the problem is widely recognized, the response has been anemic and inadequate. Rather than lead with aggressive policies to restore balance in the market and resilience in supply chains, the United States tinkers on the edges with industrial policies that are more for show than solutions.

For example, the Biden administration last year awarded a $35 million grant to MP Materials to process REEs at Mountain Pass, California—the only rare earth mine in the United States. But the company still sells its rare earth feedstock to China for advanced processing. This is because the vast majority of the REE refining capacity is in China. Similarly, the United States supported Australia’s Lynas Corporation in the mining and processing of rare earths, but this company still sources these from China.

Developing mining and processing facilities is inevitably time-consuming, but the current slow pace is unacceptable. More can be done to speed up the development of alternatives to Chinese-controlled companies.

Both U.S. private industry and the Department of Defense should stockpile at least a three- months supply of unprocessed, semi-processed, and processed REEs. The Pentagon has taken limited steps toward this, including an injection of $1 billion in funding from last year’s NDAA, but this is insufficient. The effort needs to be extended to civilian enterprises that are in the supply chain for critical defense systems.

Congress should move to ease federal mining regulations and reform the 1872 Mining Law. The Biden administration promised to do so last year, but more recently, it signaled new restrictions on mining. Federal and state regulatory policies should be updated to allow for additional mining production without compromising air and water quality standards. It would also help to reform outdated federal and state environmental statutes, including the National Environmental Policy Act, the Clean Water Act, and the Clean Air Act. The goal would be to eliminate redundant state regulatory barriers while maintaining common sense environmental standards.

Lawmakers should also commission a report that accounts for all federal lands that are subject to administrative withdrawal from critical mineral development. Federal land withdrawals may close a given area to mining. Congress must ensure this authority is not abused. Rather, lawmakers should press for awarding case-by-case contracts in an expedited manner to allow for mining in these areas and minimize the protracted timelines for permitting and bureaucratic malaise.

On the diplomatic front, Washington should work with allies—including Quad partners, Canada, Mexico, and those in South America, Africa, and Europe—to collectively diversify processing. Sweden’s LKAB recently discovered large amounts of REEs, but it could take a decade before those processed elements come to market. To facilitate international cooperation and “friend-shoring,” creating a “white CFIUS”  to certify companies for involvement in rare-earth mining and refinement could work wonders. The goals of this instrument would be to “encourage market participation; allow the sharing of information on companies that should be excluded; and create incentives for international cooperation among businesses in allied countries on exploration, mining and metallurgical technologies.”

Finally, the administration should use Development Finance Corporation authorities more proactively and direct financial support toward critical mineral development and processing capabilities in allied and partner nations. This would include possible eligibility for domestic projects with dual-impact alongside supported projects in resource-rich developing countries.

Dr. Ionut Popescu is an assistant professor of political science at Texas State University and an officer in the U.S. Navy Reserve. The opinions expressed here are entirely his own and do not represent the views of the U.S. Navy or the Department of Defense.

Dan Negrea is the senior director of the Atlantic Council’s Freedom and Prosperity Center. He served at the U.S. Department of State in leadership positions in the Policy Planning Office and the Economic Bureau.

Dr. James Jay Carafano is a Heritage Foundation vice president, directing the think tank’s research on issues of national security and foreign relations.

Image: Shutterstock.

L'anarchiste Emma Goldman (1869-1940) défend l'action des bolcheviks avant son expulsion des États-Unis vers la nouvelle Union soviétique. Arrivée à Petrograd avec son ex-compagnon Alexandre Berkman en janvier 1920, elle fait partie de ces libertaires qui sont proches des nouveaux dirigeants russes (...) / Anarchisme, Politique, Histoire, Marxisme, Russie, Révolution russe 1917 - 2018/01

Le président Barack Obama relevait, il y a deux ans, que le budget militaire iranien représentait seulement un huitième de celui des alliés régionaux des États-Unis, et un quarantième de celui du Pentagone. Néanmoins, les roulements de tambour contre une prétendue menace iranienne battent leur plein. / (...) / Armement, Défense, Armée, Relations internationales, Iran, États-Unis (affaires extérieures) - 2018/01

During World War II, America churned out an incredible 297,000 aircraft. In that same conflict, the USS Essex aircraft carrier was ordered in February of 1940. Twenty-two additional Essex carriers were launched by December 1945. In other words, in a mere seventy months, twenty-two fleet carriers were launched. This is roughly equal to one Essex heavy fleet carrier sliding into the water every three and a half months. This does not count 122 escort carriers and nine light fleet carriers of the Independence class. In total, this amounts to 131 escort and light fleet carriers that hit the water in seventy months, for a total of 1.9 smaller aircraft carriers per month.

Fast-forward to modern times. The USS Gerald Ford aircraft carrier, America’s largest and most advanced such time, took from 2005 to 2017 to build. Relatedly, the United States cannot now build two stealthy Virginia-class submarines in a year.

Contrast this with the stock performance of two of our five prime defense contractors. Since 2000, Northrop Grumman and Lockheed Martin’s share prices have both surged more than 2,200 percent.

Since the end of the Cold War, the Pentagon has invested in technology that limits casualties but does not decrease the cost of manpower. It has spent heavily on expensive and scarce technologies for first-strike offensives, largely ignoring the effect of such expenditures on its ability to fund wars and secure supply chains. But now, the U.S.-China rivalry and federal spending/debt are forcing Congress to confront that it needs to reform the Pentagon and its force structure. The challenge is to deal with an away game whereby China can act quickly and has built up formidable capabilities in a short time frame.

Consider some of the following details.

The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs has an annual budget request of $325 billion. This number is well above the entirely of China’s unreliable official, and higher Western, estimates of its annual defense budget. Nevertheless, these resources have allowed China to build the world’s largest standing navy and army, the world’s third-largest nuclear weapons stockpile, the world’s second-largest air force with 2,500 aircraft. In addition, there are 1,350 ballistic and cruise missiles aimed at Taiwan. And keep in mind that China keeps the vast majority of these assets at home, while America’s are spread around the world.

Given our budget issues and China’s lower-cost defense structure, America raising the defense/national security budget simply isn’t enough for feasible. What the United States needs is to urgently increase the productivity and effectiveness of our defense establishment. To achieve victory, a government must have both the economic power to finance conflicts and the political control to raise funds and mobilize its citizenry.

Quantity, Quality, Cost, Speed

The U.S.-China rivalry demands that America balance, quantity and quality as well as speed and cost. In writing for Foreign Affairs, Jacquelyn Schnieder recently highlighted how America is paying big bucks but getting the short end of the stick.

Whereas insurgents produced cheap improvised explosive devices, rocket-propelled grenades, and mortars, the United States launched $150,000 Hellfire missiles from $30 million remotely piloted drones, dropped $25,000 precision munitions from $75 million stealth aircraft and spent $45 billion on a phalanx of armored personnel carriers—linking all these systems with satellites at the cost of hundreds of millions to billions of dollars. And even as the number of U.S. military members shrank, the average cost per service member for the transformed elite all-volunteer force rose by more than 60 percent between 2000 and 2012.

The Pentagon’s sclerotic process for acquiring new technology, bureaucratic risk avoidance, and long lead times for “the next big thing” means that each technological improvement comes at a high cost. Consider the U.S. Navy’s Zumwalt-class destroyer program, for example. It promised thirty-two stealth destroyers with revolutionary advances in guns, propulsion, and networks. Instead, after spending over $22 billion, cost overruns forced the navy to cut the program to a mere three destroyers, all of which have serious maintenance problems. While no one meant to buy three destroyers for $22 billion, America ended up in a paradox: emerging technologies had made weapons so expensive that the benefit of better quality could not make up for the decline in quantity,

America needs to shift gears by following some of China’s lower-cost approaches, such as cheaper autonomous sensors, communications relays, munitions, and decoys. This will create confusion, slow conflict, and increase deterrence and the long-term costs to adversaries.

The Enduring Strategic Importance of the Eurasian Rimland

Simultaneously, China is tightening its grip on the Eurasian heartland, stretching from Asia through Russia into Eastern Europe. To counter China, the renowned Yale strategist Nicholas Spykman highlighted in 1942 the need to control the Eurasian rimland. He added, “Who controls the rimland, rules Eurasia; who rules Eurasia controls the destinies of the world.”

This requires that America, while helping Ukraine, focuses most of its resources on the rimland of Eurasia through sea and air power as well as intelligence capabilities. We need to remember that America has always been, and must remain, a powerful maritime and Pacific power.

Here is one idea that would lower shipbuilding costs, project hard power in the Pacific, and strengthen our alliance with treaty ally the Republic of the Philippines: follow up on the recent investment by private equity firm Cerberus in a shipyard in the Philippines near the South China Sea. Forming a consortium with the Philippines, America, Australia, Japan, and South Korea to scale up to a world-class, cost-competitive, shipbuilding services is a feasible yet effective option.

A foreign policy agenda that couples initiatives with regional allies, along with resources for the Pentagon with defense budget restructuring and reform, is a message that a clear majority of Americans will support enthusiastically.

Carl Delfeld is a senior fellow at the Hay Seward Economic Security Council, publisher of the Independent Republican, and was U.S. Representative to the Asian Development Bank. His latest book is Power Rivals: America and China’s Superpower Struggle.

Image: Unsplash.

Of late, Latin America has seen a series of confrontations between presidents and their countries’ judiciaries. As the region passes through a period of populism, leaders have emerged who are impatient with judicially imposed limits on their exercise of power. They have been prepared to denounce judges in the harshest terms, and even to seek to remake the courts in their own images. At the same time, judicial authorities have pushed back, defending themselves and their prerogatives. At a moment when democratic governance in the region seems wobbly, these confrontations are becoming sharper and more frequent.

“Militant Democracy” or “Lawfare”

Supporters of the courts praise them for being true to the spirit of “militant democracy.” The phrase is associated with the work of the German jurist and political theorist Karl Loewenstein, who, writing in exile from Hitler, argued that institutions must act aggressively to defend democracy from extremism—even if this means stretching their powers beyond previous norms. Failure to do so, in his view, doomed the Weimar Republic, allowing Nazism to come to power.

Those who see the courts as unjustly curtailing presidents’ ability to implement agendas, which the people had approved at the voting booth, tend to disparage judicial activism as “lawfare”—a term which they retain in the original English. Although it was originally coined as a neutral description of the tendency in international affairs to use legal tools to gain political and/or military advantage against an adversary, in the current context lawfare is asserted as an accusation against overweening courts siding with a president’s internal political opponents.

Some Lost Causes

It is a grim reality that, in several countries in the region, the concept of an independent judiciary simply no longer applies. In Cuba, Venezuela, and Nicaragua, the courts have become mere adjuncts of the ruling regime; their role is to provide a veneer of legality for whatever decisions are made. Fidel Castro instituted revolutionary tribunals immediately after taking power. Hugo Chavez enlarged Venezuela’s Supreme Court from twenty judges to thirty-two, naming faithful supporters to all the new positions.

In Nicaragua, when Daniel Ortega, pressured into holding free elections, had to leave office in 1990. But before doing so, he first packed the lower courts with Sandinista operatives, which helped pave the way for his 2007 return, after which he gained complete control of the Supreme Court. The actions of these countries’ pseudo-judiciaries have included draconian sentences for protestors and the disqualification of opposition parties from mounting electoral challenges.

And in El Salvador, there has been dramatic slippage recently. President Nayib Bukele took advantage of his large congressional majority to replace the judges of the nation’s Constitutional Court. He has subsequently undertaken massive detentions of alleged gang members as his recipe for dealing with El Salvador’s admittedly frightening crime problem, without any meaningful oversight from the courts.

Nonetheless, there are examples in Latin America of the judiciary standing up to powerful (and popular) presidents—most notably in Colombia in the mid-2000s, where it served as a check on President Alvaro Uribe’s aggressive “democratic security” program to keep it within recognized norms. It also rejected a constitutionally dubious effort on his part to hold a referendum as a prelude to running for a third term.

But more recently presidents in three countries—Brazil, Argentina, and Mexico—have been prepared to directly challenge the courts, using the harshest rhetoric against them, and in some cases, like Bukele, seeking to have judges removed from office.

Brazil: Pushing Back on an Authoritarian or Going too Far?

Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s hard right president whose four-year term ended on January 1 of this year, had an openly confrontational relationship with both Brazil’s Supreme Court and the Higher Electoral Court, which is chaired by a Supreme Court judge. Leftist former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (generally known as Lula) was caught up in a massive corruption scandal, found guilty, and imprisoned in 2018 for a twelve-year term. However, to Bolsonaro’s dismay and anger, the Supreme Court ultimately found that the case had been marked by improper behavior by the prosecutor and the trial judge. Lula was freed and was able to run against Bolsonaro and ultimately defeat him.

As the October 2022 election approached, Bolsonaro became ever more hostile to Brazil’s judiciary, as court-supervised investigations began on subjects ranging from alleged corruption in his administration regarding the purchase of coronavirus vaccines to interference in senior police assignments and improper release of sealed police documents. Pro-Bolsonaro figures were investigated for hate speech, including that aimed directly against the Supreme Court.

Preparing for a close election, Bolsonaro asserted that Brazil’s electoral processes were rigged, in particular condemning Supreme Court judge Alexandre de Moraes, who has led many of the investigations of Bolsonaro and his supporters and who has chaired the electoral court. In September of 2021, Bolsonaro publicly called for judicial decisions to be ignored and said that unless de Moraes was punished the judicial system might “suffer something we don’t want to happen.” In the face of widespread condemnation, he subsequently backed off from this statement.

On January 8, only a week after Lula took office, Bolsonaro supporters occupied government buildings, including the Supreme Court, in Brasilia. After they were ultimately dislodged, the Supreme Court began an investigation into “instigators and intellectual authors” of the assault, including potentially Bolsonaro himself. It also asserted civilian jurisdiction over members of the military suspected of being complicit in the takeover of the buildings, which many observers view as an incipient coup, rather than having them tried by the military justice system. Bolsonaro himself is in Florida, but he may face legal jeopardy, which could conceivably result in him being barred from running for office again.

Those who approve of these vigorous judicial actions see them as very much in the tradition of “militant democracy,” with judges going the extra mile to protect Brazil from slanderous assaults on institutions and even a coup. But Bolsonaro’s supporters see the courts as having overstepped their authority in an effort to support Lula, their favored candidate for the presidency, and as seeking to block the exercise of free speech by his opponents.

With Bolsonaro gone from power, the prospect of further conflict over the judiciary’s role seems more remote. But there are reports that Lula may name to the Supreme Court the lawyer who handled his defense in his criminal cases—a step which would not only enrage Bolsonaro supporters but also cause more objective observers to question his commitment to judicial independence. And Lula has engaged in a high-profile fight with another independent institution, the Central Bank, over interest rate policy. So should the Supreme Court start to rule against Lula on key issues, we may see some fireworks, even if he does not go as far as did Bolsonaro.

Argentina: A Jail Sentence for a Former President

Meanwhile, in Argentina, a struggle is going in between the executive and judiciary, pitched at a level of rancor that is unusual even for that country’s tortured political life. It has reached a peak with an effort in Argentina’s congress to impeach the members of the Supreme Court—a drive supported by President Alberto Fernández, who has proudly noted that he is the first president since Juan Perón to undertake such an effort.

The triggering event for this effort was a Supreme Court decision nullifying a previous executive order regarding the distribution of federal funds to individual provinces. Fernández had taken money assigned under existing legislation to the city of Buenos Aires and given it to the province of Buenos Aires, which consists of the city’s suburbs and adjacent rural areas. The city is dominated by the opposition coalition, while the province is a historic stronghold of Fernández’s Peronists. The Supreme Court’s decision has been denounced as blatant favoritism to the opposition. The rhetoric also has a class edge to it, with the court accused of favoring the wealthy city over the poorer outskirts (although there is plenty of poverty within city limits). Without enough votes for the impeachment effort to succeed, Fernández and the Peronists appear to be engaging mainly in political theater.

But the Peronist animus against the Supreme Court has deeper roots than this one issue. Cristina Kirchner—former president, and now-vice president, who represents the left/populist wing of the party—has been found guilty by a trial court of corruption relating to massive fraud by a contractor for public works and been sentenced to six years of imprisonment. She is also defending herself in several other corruption and money laundering cases.

Finding a way to ensure that she has a friendly judiciary for her appeal and for the cases still pending has been her top priority, far outstripping the need to find solutions to Argentina’s worsening economic and social crisis. She has sought so far unsuccessfully to have an unconditional supporter named to the oversight body which handles judicial discipline. Following a failed assassination attempt by a disturbed individual, she has denounced the courts for not investigating aggressively dubious charges of involvement by the conservative opposition. She has also taken the fact that some judges had accepted invitations to an event hosted by a wealthy friend of conservative former president Mauricio Macri as indication of judicial corruption.

Throughout all of this, her favored term has been “lawfare,” as she accuses the courts of waging a campaign against her as part of a broad opposition effort to destroy her politically, asserting that there is a “judicial party” that wants her “as a prisoner or dead.” For his part, current President Fernández, who had been handpicked by her as her successor, but who has his own ambitions for re-election, has been compelled to support her various claims, although as a former law professor, he almost certainly knows better. Supreme Court chief judge Horacio Rosatti has tried to shrug off the attacks, noting that after every court decision one party is unhappy.

Mexico: A Controversial Electoral Law on the Court’s Docket

A similar dynamic of a president pushing hard against the judiciary is playing out in Mexico, where Andres Manuel López Obrador (known by his initials as AMLO) has had at best a mixed relationship with Mexico’s Supreme Court. This is despite it having approved some of his key policies, which have stretched executive authority. These include the extensive use of the military in a public safety role and an increase in the state’s presence in the energy sector.

AMLO has worked hard to make sure he has as much control as possible over the judiciary. His administration’s Financial Intelligence Unit opened an investigation of Supreme Court judge Eduardo Medina Mora, a former attorney general, for financial misconduct; when Medina Mora agreed to step down, the potential charges disappeared. AMLO obtained legislation allowing Supreme Court judge Arturo Zaldívar, generally viewed as supportive of him, to remain as chief judge for an additional two years after the expiration of his four-year term in that role. However, Zaldívar himself ultimately rejected the idea in the face of widespread condemnation of this effort.

More recently, AMLO has urged the appointment of Yasmín Esquivel as chief judge of the Supreme Court, whom he had previously named to the court. Her earlier appointment was criticized, as she is the wife of a wealthy businessman with whom AMLO has close ties. However, AMLO’s hopes that she would be named chief judge were dashed when it was alleged that Esquivel had plagiarized her thesis for her law degree—a charge which AMLO has denounced as “politically motivated” and “inflated” While the matter was being investigated, the Court voted to name a different judge as chief judge, Norma Piña. AMLO seems to view her as hostile, and has denounced the court as “a bastion of corrupt conservatism.”

These tensions come as the Supreme Court gets ready to review a new electoral law that AMLO used his majority in Congress to have passed. It drastically reduces the size, powers, and independence of the National Electoral Institute, and has been highly controversial both in Mexico, where it has generated massive protests, and internationally. Many see this as an effort to guarantee that the next president comes from his leftist National Regeneration Movement (he is barred from re-election) in a return to Mexico’s ugly past of rigged elections.

Like her Argentine counterpart, Piña has withstood presidential wrath. She attended a congressional session where AMLO spoke, but in a highly noted gesture refused to stand up for him. She and the court can expect even harsher presidential denunciations should it rule against him.

The Struggle Continues

This rash of presidential confrontation with the courts is, of course, not limited to Latin America. One can find examples in Hungary, Israel, and elsewhere. However, the region is especially vulnerable. In the face of economic sluggishness and the failure to resolve longstanding social grievances, popular faith in democratic institutions has declined in recent years. We have seen populist presidents, impatient with checks on their authority, arise from both the left and the right. Brazil’s courts have thus far resisted authoritarian pressures. Hopefully, Argentina’s and Mexico’s courts will also be able to do so. Ultimately it will be up to these countries’ publics to decide how much “militant democracy” and resistance to executive power they want. But it is clear that the heat on the judiciary is being turned up.

Richard M. Sanders is a Global Fellow of the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. A former member of the Senior Foreign Service of the U.S. Department of State, he was assigned to embassies throughout the Western Hemisphere and in Washington where he served as Deputy Director of the Office of Mexican Affairs and Director of the Office of Brazilian and Southern Cone Affairs.

Image: Shutterstock.

L'État envisage d'enfouir les déchets nucléaires les plus dangereux à Bure, dans la Meuse. Dans le laboratoire souterrain, les scientifiques testent les propriétés de confinement de l'argile. En surface, les experts en relations publiques préparent l'opinion avant la demande d'autorisation à laquelle (...) / France, Communication, Écologie, Nucléaire civil, Groupe de pression, Environnement, Pollution - 2018/01

In 2018, Congress came together on an overwhelming bicameral, bipartisan basis to enact a sensible, technologically proven, low-cost measure to remove fentanyl shipments from the international postal system.

Since then, the leadership of U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP), in two administrations, has done everything conceivable to blunder enforcement, thereby ensuring international drug cartels maintain reliable use of one of their proven shipping and distribution channels.

If the drug cartels had bribed U.S. officials, they could not have gotten better results for non-enforcement.

On October 24, 2018, President Donald Trump signed the Synthetics Trafficking Overdose Protection Act (STOP Act) requiring advanced electronic data (AED) on all incoming international packages that were to be delivered by the U.S. Postal Service (USPS). Private carriers had been required to carry this electronic tracking information since 2002, shortly after the 9/11 attacks.

Drug cartels and fentanyl merchants openly advertised on the Internet their preference for using USPS for shipments. A January 2018 bipartisan report by the U.S. Senate’s Permanent Investigations Subcommittee documented this, as shipments via USPS were not required to have AED on inbound international packages. AED means packages can be better tracked and suspicious ones identified before they arrive in the United States and are seized.

But nearly one year after Congress passed the STOP Act, a Washington Post investigative story found the situation still had not been fixed.

The story’s lead said, “Chinese drug traffickers had some advice for American buyers of fentanyl: Let us ship to you by regular mail. It might be slower than FedEx or UPS, but the opioid is much more likely to reach its destination through the U.S. Postal Service.”

CBP’s failures continued, the major ones of which include the following:

Failing to issue regulations for STOP Act enforcement by October 24, 2019, as required by the law;

Failing to ensure that packages from China that entered the United States after January 1, 2020, for USPS delivery had AED, thereby allowing such packages to continue to be delivered;

Missing a similar deadline for packages from other countries entering the United States after January 1, 2021;

Issuing interim regulations on March 15, 2021, nearly two and a half years after the legislation passed, that are woefully insufficient.

CBP’s regulations allow packages to be delivered without AED. There is no systemic attempt to seize suspicious packages. Dozens of countries are exempt from providing AED, meaning shippers can easily re-route shipments to the United States via these exempt countries.

CBP has tried to posit that there is no longer a need for the STOP Act because fentanyl production has largely shifted to Mexico from China, while noting that its fentanyl seizures at ports of entry have risen significantly. And in May 2019, China’s government, in response to U.S. pressure, banned the production and sale of fentanyl.

Yet, fentanyl-related deaths have skyrocketed since 2018, making it clear that an “all of the above” enforcement regimen is imperative.

There is reason to believe that large amounts of fentanyl are still entering America from China via U.S. mail. A May 2022 U.S. Government Accountability Office report found that postal mail and vehicles were the top two ways illegal drugs enter the United States.

An in-depth November 17, 2020, National Public Radio story prepared by a China-based reporter found that “Chinese vendors have tapped into online networks to brazenly market fentanyl analogs and the precursor chemicals used to make fentanyl and ship them directly to customers in the U.S. and Europe as well as to Mexican cartels, according to an NPR investigation and research from the Center for Advanced Defense Studies.”

CBP and USPS should also rigorously monitor packages from Mexico, the hub of current production. I recently had five postal packages delivered from Mexico, in a timely manner, none with AED.

Fortunately, a bipartisan group in Congress is pushing for accountability from CBP. Among those demanding answers and better CBP practices are Senators Amy Klobuchar, Rick Scott, Ed Markey, and Maggie Hassan.

CBP owes these senators, and the American people, an immediate, rigorous enforcement program that will include public disclosure of seizure rates and regular public updates on their progress in cutting off this poison that kills 70,000 Americans annually.

Paul Steidler is a Senior Fellow with the Lexington Institute, a public policy think tank based in Arlington, Virginia.

Image: Shutterstock.

On March 3, 2023, the United Arab Emirates and Turkey signed a Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement in Abu Dhabi which aims to increase trade between the two countries to $40 billion in the next five years. The agreement, which has been in the making for some years, is expected to focus on strategic sectors such as agriculture technology, food security, clean energy, and real estate and slash tariff fees by 82 percent between the two countries. Initially, during a visit by UAE president Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed in 2021, the UAE set up a $10 billion investment fund in Turkey. The new announcement also builds on a defense cooperation agreement and a series of economic accords signed in 2022 following a visit by Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan to the UAE. Prior to the deal with Turkey, the UAE also signed free trade deals with India and Israel. It also pursued a trilateral trade agreement among Abraham Accords countries, including Israel and Morocco.

Strategically, the UAE’s deal with Turkey is part of its continued efforts to pursue and promote free trade to reaffirm itself in the global supply chain, reinforce the Abraham Accords, and solidify its position in the era of great power competition. It positions the UAE at the heart of the emerging U.S.-led trading bloc whose formation pace has been expedited in the aftermath of the pandemic and the Russian war on Ukraine. It also advances the Abraham Accords countries’ efforts to undermine political Islam in Turkey, Iran, and the Arab countries.

Specifically, the UAE’s pouring of additional investments into Turkey aims to undercut Iran’s efforts to boost trade with Turkey to $30 billion, a plan which got disrupted by sanctions and the pandemic but is now back on track according to official statements. Trade between Iran and Turkey declined from a peak of $10 billion after the United States withdrew from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action in 2018. Two years later, in 2020, bilateral trade had declined to $5 billion. However, Iran and Turkey have sought to rebuild their ties since then. In 2021, Iranian foreign minister Hossein Amir-Abdollahian announced Iran and Turkey will continue high-level diplomatic talks to draft a “long-term cooperation road map” to cement relations. The rejuvenated ties increased Turkish-Iranian trade to around $6 billion in 2021 and then around $10 billion in 2022, a return to pre-sanctions levels. This restoration of the ties has alarmed the UAE, which is seeking to bring Turkey closer to the Arab Gulf states, Israel, and the United States. 

The UAE has another goal in mind: challenging Turkey’s ruling Justice and Development Party’s (AKP) foreign objective of building strategic relations with other like-minded Islamic regional parties, such as Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood in Libya, Egypt, Syria, and Iraq. The UAE deems these groups as a threat to the balance of power and stability in the region. However, in the last two years, Turkey has rolled back its support to Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt in a bid to secure investments from the Gulf countries and Israel, which it needs to stabilize its economy before its national elections in May 2023. By building large investment ties with Turkey, the UAE and other Gulf countries hope to change Turkey’s strategic calculus toward supporting their future vision for the region.

In the aftermath of the earthquakes, which are expected to inflict over $84 billion in economic losses, the UAE would like to ensure Turkey does not feel vulnerable to the extent that it aligns with Iran via trade and investments. Turkey has already committed to trading with Iran in national currencies to overcome Western sanctions, which could empower Iran’s regional agenda that is seen as aggressive by the UAE and other regional actors. The UAE’s agreement with Turkey will make Ankara less likely to support regional policies that destabilize the creation of a new market and regional alliances.

For Turkey, the immediate need for capital injections since the earthquakes makes the UAE agreement appealing, but it is also potentially problematic for Erdogan’s political future. The UAE’s investments will help strengthen Erdogan’s image as his country’s savior, and may also stabilize Turkey’s currency and restore public and investor confidence, but it also signals the Gulf’s growing leverage over Turkey and the weakening of Erdogan’s grip on Turkey’s economic power. The Turkish opposition, which has previously highlighted Turkey’s endemic corruption and nepotism, is unlikely to let this opportunity go to waste. 

From Erdogan’s point of view, the deal is a balancing act between immediate economic needs and the growing political and economic influence of the Gulf, which may restrict his ability to follow an independent foreign policy in the region. Through its engagement with Turkey, the UAE is trying to score a major victory for the Abraham Accords by attracting Turkey to the new alliance and disincentivizing Turkey’s growing ties with Iran.

Ahmed Alqarout is a London-based expert in international political economy. His research focuses on the impact of financial and economic policies on global and regional stability with a special focus on the Middle East and Africa.

Image: ToskanaINC / Shutterstock.com

When Xi Jinping, now in an unprecedented third term, first came to power back in 2012, he indicated his intention to replace the Western international order with a “Community of Common Destiny.” Backed by China’s tremendous economic growth and political stability, Xi has sought to reorder “chaos” like the Chinese philosopher Confucius attempted more than two thousand years ago. Xi himself frequently alludes to Chinese classical thought in his aim to construct what he believes would be a more “inclusive” and “just” order.

In order to understand Xi’s grand ambition and vision for a Chinese international order, it is necessary to better understand its philosophical underpinnings—especially both Xi’s and the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) fixation with Confucian thought. This, in turn, also requires understanding the context through which such came about, necessitating a dive into Chinese history.

The Early Dynasties and the Emergence of Confucius

In ancient times, before the rise of China’s famous dynasties, the central plain of China was inhabited by several tribes who did not share a common leader. According to tradition, even though there was fighting between them, a mechanism existed called shanrang that ensured succession based on moral virtue and behavior rather than blood lineage. Via this, King Yu the Great succeeded Emperor Shun by earning the respect of other tribes. His son Qi established the first dynasty, the Xia. But there was no centralized power during the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties. Instead, these periods were marked by disorder and chaos, due to the multitude of states and their relative autonomy.

It was around this time period that Confucius, whose teachings would mold Chinese civilization and political thinking for millennia, emerged.

Key to understanding Confucian philosophy is its understanding of “heaven”—the source for all humans and the origin of all social values. Chinese heaven is paternalistic, but rather than creating or destroying its purpose is to guarantee order and harmony. Likewise, Confucius did not see humans as isolated, but rather inserted in a hierarchical system that begins with the family, part of a tribe, and was the first step towards the state. The supremacy of the collective interest over the individual is the fundamental characteristic of social order, and what Chinese thought considers its moral superiority.

Confucian society is thus composed of individuals who respect and obey a clear line of authority. Because traditional Chinese society saw the family as the basic unit, Confucius argued that good government should be based on a bond with the family. According to this idea, if the principles that govern a family are applied to the relations between members of society, then the result is a harmonious society.

The Zhou dynasty embarked on a campaign to create and maintain order between the other states. But the Zhou were not the largest of these, leading them to realize that coercive force alone would not be sufficient to become the dominant state. This is what drove the Zhou, drawing from Confucius, to establish tianxia (“all under heaven”), creating an effective system where many independent states recognized the mandate of the “son of heaven.”

In this system, the “son of heaven” grants lords rights over territory, the collection of taxes therein, and the authority to establish their own legal systems in exchange for their obligation to pay tribute and obey him during times of war. The lords recognized the “son of heaven” as the representation of the morality of heaven, therefore superseding the personal connection of feudalism in Europe. The Chinese “mandate of heaven” is thus not divine right, as the European kings enjoyed, but rather the acceptance of the legitimacy of the government for as long as governance is moral and just, and it fulfills its obligations to them.

However, during the second part of the Zhou dynasty, known as the Eastern Zhou dynasty, powerful lords kept the tribute meant for the “son of heaven” and abandoned their titles, effectively regaining independence, leading to the dynasty’s eventual overthrow by King Zhaoxiang of the Qin. His descendant, Qin Shi Huang, conquered the other six states through military means and legalism, establishing the first dynasty to rule over a united China: the Qin.

The Qin dynasty’s preference to obtain the mandate of the “son of heaven” through badao (the way of the hegemon) rather than wangdao (the kingly way to govern), as advised by Mencius, created a struggle between both philosophies in tianxia. Later on, the Han dynasty formally adopted Confucian doctrine and promoted it as the moral foundation for all human conduct, even though there was a great diffusion of Buddhism and Taoism. But it was only until the Song dynasty at the turn of the millennium that Confucian doctrine came to regulate all social, political, and philosophical systems in China.

The Evolution of Tianxia

The fact that tianxia is not based on “nature” but on “relationship” means that one is subjected to another and this relationship is what defines them. The objective of tianxia is the transformation of the “Other.” Historically, all that was alien to Chinese culture was considered yi, or barbarian, and had to undergo a process of sinicization, hua. In fact, China’s ability to adapt itself has allowed it to maintain its identity in the most adverse of circumstances.

It is difficult to ascertain whether the idea of China as an immutable entity from ancient times until today has ever existed. But what is clear is that Confucian doctrine was able to assimilate the dynasties of ethnic minorities which completed their conquests after becoming “Chinese”—the later Chinese dynasties, established by non-Han peoples invading from Mongolia or Manchuria, exemplify this. This point is most significant, as it signals that Confucian doctrine is not merely a system for ethics, but also an essential issue of political legitimacy. Moreover, it can be extended outward. The submission of a state to tianxia allows China to become the center of this structure, transferring over characteristics of its civilization to the rest of the system.

Under tianxia, this Confucian method of thinking about relationships and obligations is applied to the international system, to reflect the idea of a broader family. Tianxia, therefore, places China above any other political, cultural, or military group. This system prioritizes Chinese order, rule, and governance by elites—including over Western notions of liberty, freedom, human rights, and democracy, which would arrive later.

As such, for a long time, the international system of East Asia—which was forged during the long period of China’s unification, through which diverse tribes fused into a broader structure of power and eventually came under the mandate of the emperor, personified as the “son of heaven.”—was based on tianxia. But rather than being a divine mandate superior to the human condition, the mandate of the “son of heaven” possessed a civil responsibility in maintaining harmony between its subjects, including those who later came under its mantle. From the Ming dynasty until the First Opium War, the Chinese tributary system created political stability in the region.

During the Ming dynasty, Confucianism spread to Korea and Vietnam. In Japan, Confucian classical literature became a fundamental part of the education of the nobility and the elite. These countries thus became part of the tributary system which came to constitute the international system of the region.

The tributary system was not labeled as such by the Chinese; rather, the name comes from the Europeans who discovered China and its neighbor’s relationship and originally reflected Western ideas about the obligations of tributary states. But the payment of tribute, rather than being one of primarily coercive obligation as in the West’s popular conception of the system, recognized the cultural superiority of the Chinese emperor, and the exchange of gifts and favors maintained a balance in the East Asian regional system. The Chinese emperor would always give more than what he would receive and this loss was meant to guarantee the functioning of the regional order.

China, as such, became the hegemon of East Asia during the tributary system, and its hegemony via tianxia was not so different from hegemony in the West’s own conception, as in both cases the question of power, both cultural and material, remains crucial. However, Chinese hegemony was distinct in that it possessed a higher degree of a moral character than Western hegemony. China was a peaceful hegemon for nearly six centuries before the Opium Wars, primarily because due to Confucian ideas of obligation and responsibility, originating in the relationship between a father and son, which extended to the regional system. This helped to create a positive image of the Chinese emperor, both inside and outside China.

China regulated the regional system and assured the functioning of all commercial activities by allocating privileges to its actors according to the degree of cultural assimilation that they demonstrated. Korea, Vietnam, and the Ryukyu kingdom were the tributary states that showed the highest degree of cultural assimilation and were therefore given more privileges, including more tributary missions. This was a system meant to differentiate between the “barbarian” and the “civilized” according to the assimilation of Chinese culture.

It was the Opium Wars that changed the Chinese hierarchical system into one of direct colonialism until the end of World War II, while gradually extending Western ideas to East Asia. During the Cultural Revolution, Confucian doctrine suffered greatly, as Maoism became the new ideology of China. But after the death of Ma Zedongo, the CCP’s Five Disciplines, Four Graces and Three Loves policy began the process to (re)civilize China and consolidate the legitimacy of the Chinese Communist Party. Once again the doctrine of filial piety would promote obedience and regulate relations, and thus re-establishing the precedent for Xi’s “Chinese Dream.”

How the CCP Draws from Confucianism

From its foundation in 1921, the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) concern has been to seek legitimacy in order to transform China. With the introduction of the “socialist market economy,” the CCP aimed to achieve this by improving China’s average standard of living. When Xi became the secretary general of the Party, he invoked the Confucian thinker Liu Xiang to underline the connection between power and the needs of the people.

While the West tends to be critical of the current Chinese one-party state as illegitimate, for a vast number of Chinese people it is not abnormal. For over two thousand years, China has been ruled by a unified Confucian elite through an imperial examination system designed to provide proportional representation in tianxia. The one-party state resembles more the Chinese tradition of a meritocracy than the ideal of Western democracy. The Chinese imperial examination system, known as keju, was not only meant to recruit talented people to administer the state, but also to counterbalance the power of the military and the sovereign. This system led to social mobility, along with political and social stability, especially as the number of officials was proportional to the population of each province. The keju was the standard model for an ethical man to prove his virtues, with the hope of becoming a bureaucrat. Today, Chinese parents place an important focus on the education of their children, and the influence of the Chinese education model is reflected by the high performance of Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese students. The keju’s descendants in modern-day China, the gaokao for entrance to university and the examination for the civil service, are possibly the least corrupt institutions in the state; allowing access to leadership to all social classes and assisting to legitimize the system.

In addition, China uses history and culture to construct a linear narrative that replaces Western modernity, whose success represents its failure. On occasions, Xi alludes to the Qing dynasty, criticized by both Chinese nationalist and communist historiography. While the Qing dynasty extended control to Taiwan, Mongolia, Tibet, and Xinjiang, it is blamed for China losing control of its economy and ports, due to Western, Russian, and Japanese imperialism. Wang Qishan, known as Xi’s right-hand man, delivered a speech at the New World Economic Forum in Singapore in 2018, where he alluded to 1840, the “hundred years of national humiliation,” and the determination of the millenarian Chinese civilization to retake its place in the world with “Chinese characteristics.” This view of history is ingrained in the ideals of the CCP, whose legitimacy rests on recovering the historical status China once held.

For Xi, Chinese identity goes beyond nationalist and territorial borders and intentions. Xi views the “Chinese blood” of the millions of huaqiao (Chinese citizens residing abroad) and huaren (ethnic Chinese abroad) part of the “great Chinese family”—essential in bolstering the revitalization of the “Chinese Dream.” This dream portrays the “harmony” experienced during China’s dynastic history to convince the region of the benefits of a Pax Sinica in Asia. In fact, during the 19th National Congress, Xi explained that the “Chinese Dream” was meant to be shared by the rest of the international community. Yet while it tries to show its ascent to power is benign, China hides that it is a revisionist power, fermenting authoritarianism abroad and exporting its model for economic development. And it understands that to change the system, it must do so from the periphery, which will allow it to transform Western hegemony.

Back in 2005, China, under then-president Hu Jintao, unveiled the concept of a “harmonious world.” That same year, Chinese philosopher Gan Yang delivered a lecture in Beijing in which he advocated unifying Confucianism, Maoism, and Xiapoing’s reforms, while the philosopher Zhao Tingyang initiated the debate over the concept of tianxia and its application to our contemporary world—the system that allowed dynastic China to harmoniously rule over its local tributaries could thus be expended outwards. The CCP and Chinese intellectuals, in other words, are attempting to justify their own power and present a benevolent image of China.

Yet despite Zhao Tingyang’s objections that tianxia holds no “outsiders,” it is clear that the “Chinese center” uses dynamics of exclusion and inclusion to marginalize others like the West or even periphery nations. While Confucian thought supports the use of force only to restore political and moral order, it promotes a paternalistic diplomacy of a tributary character.

For those wondering what a Chinese international order would look this, this is something to keep in mind.

Carlo J.V. Caro is a political and military analyst. He has a graduate degree from Columbia University.

Image: Unsplash.

The facts about the downing of the U.S. Reaper drone are still emerging, and many relevant specifics are yet to become public, but as we attempt to get our bearings it is worth beginning with applied history. Applied historians ask: have we ever seen anything like this before?

Five cases that are similar in relevant respects are worth recalling: the 2019 shootdown and capture of a U.S. Global Hawk drone by Iran, the collision with a Chinese fighter that forced an EP-3 spy plane to land in Hainan in 2001, the North Korean capture of the USS Pueblo (a spy ship) in 1968, and two U.S. U-2 overflights of enemy territory during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. In each case, the key questions are: what happened? What did the parties say about where the aircraft was? And how did the United States respond?

In perhaps the closest parallel, in June 2019 Iran shot down a Global Hawk surveillance drone over the Strait of Hormuz. While the United States claimed that the drone was 21 miles from Iran’s coast, Iran argued that it had violated its sovereignty earlier in the flight by coming within 8 miles of its border, well inside the 14-mile limits of its recognized territorial seas. President Donald Trump tweeted that Iran had made a “big mistake” and reportedly considered a series of strikes on Iranian radar and missile sites. Nonetheless, no strikes were conducted. Instead, the United States filed a complaint at the United Nations, imposed additional sanctions, and reportedly conducted cyber attacks.

In 2001, the first year of the administration of George W. Bush, a U.S. Navy EP-3 spy plane was flying a surveillance mission 70 miles off the coast of China’s Hainan Island. When it was intercepted by a People’s Liberation Army (PLA) Navy fighter aircraft, the two planes collided, killing the PLA pilot and causing the EP-3 to make an emergency landing on Hainan Island. The crew of twenty-four was held by Chinese authorities for ten days. While both sides agreed that the U.S. aircraft was 70 miles away from Chinese territory when the collision occurred, China accused the United States of illicitly passing through its Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), while the United States countered that EEZs permit innocent passage. The dispute was resolved with a face-saving half-apology: the United States expressed “regret and sorrow” for the incident but issued no “letter of apology.” China responded by releasing the crew and, after disassembling the plane and extracting information about its intelligence capabilities, returned its parts in boxes several months later.

North Korea’s seizure of the USS Pueblo in 1968 provides further perspective. Conducting surveillance activities off the coast of North Korea, a U.S. spy ship with a crew of eighty-three was fired upon and captured. Following the standard script, North Korea claimed that the Pueblo was inside its territorial waters, 8.5 miles away from Ryo Island, while the United States countered that it was “miles away” from approaching the accepted 14-mile territorial line. After eleven months of negotiations, the United States apologized, gave North Korea a written admission that the ship had been spying, and made a commitment not to spy in the future in exchange for the crew’s return. North Korea kept the Pueblo, and today it remains a trophy in Pyongyang.

Finally, on the most dangerous day of the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962, two U.S. U-2 aircraft flew over enemy territory, the first over the Soviet Union on what could have appeared to be a last-minute targeting update before a nuclear first strike, the second over Cuba where the Soviet Union was rushing to complete construction of nuclear-tipped missile launchers. When informed of the first plane, in a moment of gallows humor, President John F. Kennedy famously said: “there’s always some son-of-a-bitch who doesn’t get the word.” While both Soviet and U.S. fighter jets scrambled, no shots were fired, and the plane returned safely to base. The second U-2 was shot down by Soviet surface-to-air missile (SAM) air defenses in Cuba, killing its pilot, Major Rudolph Anderson. Despite the loss of life and the fact that he had previously approved plans for retaliatory airstrikes against any Soviet SAM sites that fired on U.S. aircraft, Kennedy held back in favor of a brilliant last-ditch gambit that brought the crisis to a successful conclusion.

Against this historical canvas, over the next several days we should expect the two parties to present competing stories about what happened and where. As the United States began to do yesterday in releasing a video of the encounter, each will do its best to make its narrative persuasive to the audience it cares about most, namely, its own citizens. Predictably, Republican critics of President Joe Biden will charge that Vladimir Putin was emboldened to act so provocatively by Biden’s weakness and argue that this would never have happened if Trump were president—without recalling that Trump was president in 2019 when the Iranians did essentially the same thing. The Biden administration will condemn Russia’s action, but not retaliate militarily. And soon the next bright shiny object will appear consigning this shootdown to the dustbin of history.

Graham T. Allison is the Douglas Dillon Professor of Government at the Harvard Kennedy School. He is the former director of Harvard’s Belfer Center and the author of Destined for War: Can America and China Escape Thucydides’s Trap?

Image: Mike Mareen / Shutterstock.com

On Monday in San Diego, President Joe Biden met with his Australian and British counterparts and announced what amounts to one of the most significant shifts in U.S. security policy in decades. Standing atop the USS Missouri, a Virginia-class nuclear-powered submarine docked at the U.S. Naval Base Point Loma and facing the Pacific Ocean, the three leaders announced the way forward for AUKUS, the trilateral defense pact between Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States.

That announcement came almost eighty years ago to the day that President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed the Lend-Lease Act into law. That act allowed the United States to lend or lease defense materials to any nation deemed “vital to the defense of the United States.” The United States shipped more than $50 billion worth of equipment to supply Moscow, Beijing, Paris, and London in their warfighting efforts, and ultimately helped them prevail in their struggle against totalitarian forces in World War II. After Lend-Lease had become official American policy, Roosevelt declared that “here in Washington, we are thinking in terms of speed and speed now.” What was true for Roosevelt’s America, is true today. For AUKUS to matter, it will need to move from conception to reality at full speed.

The big news out of the leaders’ meeting all revolves around submarines—America and the United Kingdom will increase the frequency of their port visits to Australia, the United States will start a rotational deployment of submarines to Australia within the next several years, Washington will sell Australia three to five of its Virginia-class attack submarines, and ultimately, Australia will begin building submarines that are British-designed and loaded with American technology and weapons systems.

What was revealed yesterday, however, is significantly more ambitious than that. AUKUS, it turns out, is about much more than submarines, and more than even a trilateral defense partnership. Fundamentally, it represents a bet that by integrating industrial capacities and increasing interoperability between the United States, United Kingdom, and Australia, the capabilities of two of America’s closest allies will become much more powerful, and that will ultimately change Beijing’s calculations about its security environment. The real goal here is to stabilize a region that has been deeply destabilized by China’s rapid expansion of its military capabilities and increasingly aggressive foreign policy. 

Over the past decade, Beijing has built up a formidable military arsenal. Growing capabilities, both quantitative and qualitative, have abetted an expanding set of goals and resulted in growing concern in the region. Once content to shelve territorial disputes with its neighbors, Beijing now uses its strengthened military to increasingly lean on, intimidate, and attack neighboring states while it seizes disputed territory, builds military bases and outposts throughout the region, and projects its power further afield. Most observers now believe that China may eventually be looking to weaken American alliances in the region and push U.S. forces and bases out of Asia altogether.

Any serious response to China's actions needs to increase allied capabilities, diversify U.S. force posture, and underscore that the United States and its allies are willing to push back against Beijing's destabilizing activities. If what was announced in San Diego can be pulled off, and pulled off in a timely manner, it has the potential to accomplish those goals by putting more ships in, and under, the water throughout the Indo-Pacific. This would add to the combined nuclear-powered submarine forces of the three nations; negate some of Beijing’s local advantages by increasing the range, power, and stealth of the allied presence; and reinforce that these three nations are willing to work collectively to deter future acts of Chinese aggression.

AUKUS is the most substantial response yet to China's rapidly expanding military power—and a harbinger of where American and allied strategy will need to go. It is a public declaration that the United States, Australia, and the United Kingdom are aligning their strategies more closely in order to ensure that they are sufficiently armed and able to push back against acts of aggression in the future.

It also has the potential to transform the industrial shipbuilding capacity of all three nations, accelerate technological integration, change the balance of power in the Indo-Pacific, and, ultimately, transform the model of how the United States works with and empowers its closest allies.

Of course, this new agreement brings risks too—the weight of its ambitions alone might sink those submarines. On top of those great expectations lies a challenging road ahead to bring AUKUS from concept to reality. That includes maintaining bipartisan support for this initiative in all three countries over multiple decades; ensuring sufficiently large investments are made into the industrial base and shipbuilding capacity of all three nations; finding, training, and retaining more scientists, shipbuilders, and nuclear-trained submariners; changing the way the United States shares and Australia protects sensitive technology; and pulling this all off in a way that begins providing deterrence now—not a decade from now.

Much has changed since 1941 when Roosevelt described Lend Lease as an initiative to provide “aid to democracies,” and declared that the country had awoken from a long slumber to “realize the danger that confronts us.” Neither China nor Russia is an ally today. This time, the United States is not giving, but selling, its most advanced technology. And thankfully, the world is not at war. But the logic that held then, holds now. Stronger allies, working together, have the best chance of defending themselves, deterring further acts of aggression, and preserving peace.

AUKUS has the potential to play a tremendous role in defense, in deterrence, and in the maintenance of peace. The question that remains is whether the governments, legislatures, and industries of the three nations can proceed with “speed and speed now.”

Charles Edel is the inaugural Australia Chair at the Center for Strategic and International Studies. Previously, he was an associate professor at the U.S. Naval War College and worked in the Secretary of State’s Office of Policy Planning.

Image: DVIDS.

Ian Easton, The Final Struggle: Inside China’s Global Strategy (Manchester, UK: Eastbridge Books). 358 pp., $34.99.

For at least the past decade, China has been a topic of intense debate within foreign policy circles in the United States. One perspective holds that China is a rising power with the motive, means, and opportunity to surpass the United States as the world’s preeminent power or hegemon. Supporters of this view generally see China’s ascent as inexorable, and argue that the only way to prevent its global predominance is for the United States and Western democracies to wake up and take appropriate measures to revitalize themselves and counteract China’s increasingly assertive actions. This position often calls for the adoption of a grand strategy equivalent to the Cold War policy of containment, referred to by some as “Containment 2.0.”

In contrast, another perspective posits that China is not a rising power, but rather a faltering or peaking one. Advocates of this view, including authors such as Dan Blumenthal in his book China Nightmare, Hal Brands and Michael Beckley in their book Danger Zone and, most recently, Susan Shirk in her book Overreach, contend that the internal and external challenges facing China make it unlikely to continue its meteoric rise and therefore unlikely to displace the United States as the leader of the international order. Although these authors have varying opinions regarding the implications of peak China for global peace and security, they generally agree that those who emphasize China's rise fail to appreciate the significant obstacles already limiting Beijing's geopolitical aspirations.

In a provocative new book titled The Final Struggle, Ian Easton, Senior Director at the Project 2049 Institute and former China analyst at the Center for Naval Analyses, wades into this debate, mounting what amounts to a spirited counter-offensive against the latter perspective, which has gained considerable traction of late. Specifically, Easton argues that a strengthened and emboldened Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is now aggressively embarking on what Xi Jinping sometimes refers to as “the final struggle”—that is, the CCP’s historically inevitable campaign to remake the world in China’s own Marxist-Leninist image. According to Easton, a careful examination of Xi’s speeches, including some previously untranslated ones, reveal that the CCP is committed to imposing China’s communist totalitarian system on the entire world. But, Easton argued, this goal will not be achieved through the use of military force. Contrary to Hollywood portrayals of hordes of tanks and fascist stormtroopers “swarming across the map” and “goose-stepping into fallen capital cities,” or “communist paratroopers descending on sleepy American towns like they did in Red Dawn,” Easton argues that the CCP has adopted a much more sophisticated strategy for global domination. According to this strategy, he argues, the CCP has eschewed the fantasy of world conquest via military means in favor of  “a protracted campaign of silent invasions to replicate on a global system what it sees as its own superior system.”

To achieve this end, Easton argues, the CCP has been quietly advancing its interests through a range of tactics, including economic coercion, technological influence, and propaganda campaigns. These efforts, he contends, are intended to culminate in the reshaping of the global balance of power in China's favor and the creation of a Sino-centric world order reflecting the CCPs vision, values, and interests—unless, that is, we in the Western democracies collectively open our eyes and see clearly the “baleful vista of future possibilities, a totalitarian world order stalking us just over the horizon.”

Easton has written an ambitious book, one that has much to recommend it. Of particular note is the author’s vivid portrayal of the ideological vision motivating the CCP and its leadership and the richness of the primary sources that Easton draws on to substantiate his argument. The methodological foundation of Easton’s argument is that the CCP makes China’s foreign policy, and that therefore the way the top levels of the Party understand the world has a great deal to do with the way Beijing acts in the world. This places an evident premium on understanding how the CCP’s leaders—and Xi Jinping, as head of the Party, in particular—imagine the future of world order. And this, in turn, places a premium on identifying those Party documents that are “authoritative” or that clearly reflect the “common sense” or “conventional wisdom” within the Party. This, Easton does to a fault. The book is informed by an array of primary sources, some never before translated into English, the likes of which have seldom been made available to a non-specialist audience in the West. Indeed, the only book that comes close in this respect is Rush Doshi’s The Long Game, which covers some of the same terrain, even if for slightly different purposes. Like Doshi’s, Easton’s book deftly uses primary sources to paint a picture of China’s global ambitions that is intended to shock Western audiences out of their assumed numbness regarding the CCP’s true ambitions.

That brings us to the book’s shortcomings, two of which stand out in stark relief.

The first is stylistic verging on substantive. Simply put, Easton’s book tends unambiguously—and counterproductively—toward sensationalism. The descriptions of the CCP’s rule and the characterizations of its vision of the future fall somewhere between hysterical and hyperbolic, with lurid being perhaps the word that best reflects the picture developed. This may achieve the shock effect that Easton obviously seeks, but it also threatens to amplify the growing—and increasingly dangerous—tendency to portray China as a kind of monster that the United States must go abroad to destroy.

The second has to do with timing: Easton’s book seems about a decade out of time. The current debate about China’s grand strategy turns not so much on the issue of the CCP’s motives as on its means. The animating question at the heart of the China debate today has little to do with China’s goals or aspirations. Rather, it has to do with the issue of whether China is a rising power or one that is plateauing. Warranted or not, there is—and has been for some time now—a general consensus that China is bent on establishing either regional or global hegemony. The animating question of the current moment is whether Beijing will ever be in a position to realize either of these goals, given the demographic, economic, and geopolitical headwinds the country is facing. The big debate between those who imagined China to be a status quo power gently rising within the liberal international order and those who imagined it to be a more threatening player on the world stage—the debate that Easton seems keen to participate in—has been over since at least the second term of the Obama administration. 2022 seems a strange time to try to throw one’s hat into that particular ring.

If you are seeking the experience of terror, anxiety, and shock typically associated with a good horror story, then The Final Struggle is the book for you. If, however, you are looking for a serious analysis of China’s grand strategy or Sino-American strategic competition, then perhaps you should look elsewhere.

Andrew Latham is Professor of International Relations and Political Theory at Macalester College, St. Paul, MN, a Research Associate with the Centre for Defence and Security Studies, Canada, and a Senior Fellow at the Institute for Peace and Diplomacy.

Logan Leybold is a research assistant in the Political Science Department at Macalester College.

Image: Shutterstock.

In the past few months, poison attacks have affected hundreds of Iranian schoolgirls, prompting some parents to take their children out of school due to fear of what some have dubbed “biological terrorism.” 

These attacks started in November in Qom, which is the heartland of Shiite extremism and home to Iran’s Shiite seminary and Islamic institutions. This wave of toxic gas attacks has expanded to the rest of the country, but with thirty school attacks, the ultraconservative city of Qom still leads the list of the most-targeted cities. 

Speculation on the perpetrators of such attacks continues but the regime itself and regime-affiliated extremist groups are the main suspects. Some local media have said that it could be the work of religious zealots who want to prevent girls from attending school. Others, including former Vice President Mohammad Ali Abtahi, have speculated that the poisonings are the work of hardliners who want to “copy” the Taliban in Afghanistan and the militant Islamist group Boko Haram in Nigeria, which have banned women’s education and terrorized parents to stop sending their girls to school. Abtahi has asked in an Instagram post: “Has Boko Haram come to Iran?”

Several regime officials have highlighted the intentional nature of the serial poisoning of female students in Qom and other cities. Iran’s deputy education minister has admitted these attacks are “intentional” and Iran’s attorney general has acknowledged the poisoning of students in the city of Qom might be a “deliberate criminal act.” 

Yet, as in all other cases when things go wrong, Iran’s senior officials, including its president, Ebrahim Raisi, have blamed foreign enemies for schoolgirl poisonings.

These reportedly intentional biological attacks come at a critical time: the regime in Iran has been challenged by the death of Mahsa Jina Amini at the hands of Iran’s “morality police” on September 16, 2022, which sparked large protests across the nation. Consequently, it appears that the Iranian regime is taking revenge on this women-led movement by indiscriminately targeting schoolgirls.

A race between Sunni and Shiite extremists on misogyny

Iran remains the leading state sponsor of global terrorism. The Islamic regime brutally represses its own people and supports instability, chaos, and terrorist organizations abroad. 

As a predominantly Shiite country, Iran used to have sectarian animosity with such extremist groups like Al Qaeda. However, Iran has occasionally formed an anti-American alliance of convenience with Sunni terrorist organizations, hosting their leaders and providing them with logistical and financial support. The U.S. State Department stated in February that Said al-Adel, an Iran-based Egyptian, has become the head of Al Qaeda following the July 2022 death of Ayman al-Zawahiri. In addition, the former U.S. special representative for the reconciliation in Afghanistan, Zalmay Khalilzad, recently said that Iran has become a new center of Al Qaeda.

In addition to hosting, funding, and arming Sunni extremists, Iran also competes with these groups to make its Shiite version of Islam a more puritan, brutal, and misogynist brand. What Iran is doing with its schoolgirls is reminiscent of acts of such terrorist organizations as the Taliban, ISIS, Boko Haram, and Al Qaeda who oppose women’s education. Iran’s Shiite fanatics are competing with their Sunni rivals while the mullahs in Tehran deeply fear the progressive women’s movement that has adopted the “Woman, Life, Freedom” slogan, three components that go against the founding principles of this clerical regime. Thus, the government is adamant to clamp down and deter the women’s activism in Iran, even by means of poisoning them.

Silencing, stoning, enslaving, and taking revenge on the women is an inalienable part of Islamist extremist entities that despise women just for being women, especially if those women—like brave girls in Iran—dare to seek freedom from clerical tyranny, Islamist misogyny, and inhumane Sharia law. 

Putin’s mysterious poison game

Russian president Vladimir Putin has, on several occasions, used mysterious poisons and other biological and toxic substances to get rid of his enemies. He has also used these substances against schoolchildren. When Putin came to power in Russia in 1999, he started punishing the independence-seeking Chechen nation by indiscriminately bombing Chechen civilians, leveling the capital, Grozny, and targeting Chechen schoolgirls by collectively poisoning them by potentially using chemical agents or biological weapons.

When she was seventeen years ago, Anna Politkovskaya, a prominent Russian investigative journalist and human rights activist, started probing the poisoning cases of Chechen schoolgirls and began publishing her findings in 2006. She was found dead in her apartment a couple of months later. No one was charged for the murder as impunity reigns for perpetrators who go after anti-Putin activists. 

A similar pattern is repeating itself in Iran as the clerical regime is trying to collectively punish women by means of mass poisoning as there is no will to find and charge the perpetrators. Inspired by Putin’s poison game, Tehran has waged a war against schoolgirls by indiscriminately punishing brave Iranian women for resisting the regime’s efforts to subjugate and indoctrinate them.

Iran, Russia, and China

Iran has shown great interest in importing Russian and Chinese repression technologies, and it is possible that Iran has acquired its poisoning technology from Russia. 

Xi Jinping’s China is another source of inspiration for Iran. China is a dystopian, human rights nightmare as collective punishment can go as far as the mass rape and detention of the Uighur people, especially women in Muslim and Turkic-speaking Xinjiang province.

One can’t help but notice that misogyny is a common trait of all repressive regimes. Putin punished, in mass, Chechen women for giving birth to tough fighters who wanted independence from Russian tyranny. Xi is collectively punishing Uighur women for giving birth to a generation that wants to preserve their culture and tradition and defy the Chinese Communist Party’s indoctrination. Iran is indiscriminately punishing women and schoolgirls because of their leading role in anti-regime protests that started with Amini’s brutal death.

Iran, Russia, China, and other authoritarian regimes fear women the most. To deprive their nation of liberty, Putin’s Russia, Xi’s China, and clerical Iran along with Islamist terrorist organizations suppress women’s very existence.

What America can do 

While the women in Iran are putting their lives at risk and fighting for their emancipation and dignity, the democratic world led by the United States must take measures to ensure that they are on the side of the freedom-seeking women in Iran, not the regime. 

The Biden administration needs an effective and coercive strategy to address Iran’s nuclear and human rights dossiers; it cannot remain indifferent to Iran’s proliferation threat and human rights violations. 

Washington must act swiftly as the Iranian regime has enriched uranium to 84 percent purity, becoming closer than ever to weapons-grade material. At the same time, Tehran seeks sophisticated S-400 air defense systems from Russia which would make a potential Israeli airstrike on Iran’s nuclear facilities harder. The United States must take steps to ensure that Tehran will never access nuclear weapons to initiate an atomic Armageddon.

The free world should also be able to concur that the compulsory hijab is against women’s rights. Unlike what the Iranian regime and other radical Islamists say, the compulsory hijab is not part of the culture and national tradition in Iran or elsewhere in the Muslim world. The compulsory veil is a sign of submission and subjugation of women. That is one reason why Iranian women have symbolically been burning their headscarves during protests. To support Iranian women, Western diplomats must stop complying with this discriminatory and myogenic law when traveling to Iran. Recently, the Iranians were outraged by the Swiss ambassador’s decision to wear a long black veil during a visit to a shrine in Qom, the very city most affected by poisonous attacks against girls and women.

For the United States, devising a comprehensive strategy for targeting human rights abusers is indispensable. Designating those Iranian officials who are responsible for the biological war against women and are involved in the poisoning, killing, harming, denigrating, and subjugation of women in Iran should be a priority. The U.S. Department of the Treasury’s Office of Foreign Assets Control can do a better job of further sanctioning and including Iranian individuals and entities that are connected to women’s rights abuse in the Specially Designated Nationals and Blocked Persons list.

Ahmad Hashemi is a research fellow at the Hudson Institute. Follow him on Twitter @MrAhmadHashemi.

Image: Shutterstock.

One of the world’s most important elections is scheduled to take place on May 14, with the twenty-year reign of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan facing a rare challenge—a potential final off-ramp for voters to reclaim their country’s democracy.

If rampant inflation and the soaring cost of living were insufficient motivations to drive voters to line up against Erdogan, the government’s ham-fisted and incompetent response to the catastrophic February 6 earthquake leaves no doubt that top-down power vested in a single individual does not serve the public interest.

On the other side of the ballot, a new bloc of six opposition parties, including the IYI Party and CHP, have nominated Kemal Kilicdaroglu to stand as their candidate for president. If they prevail, what should U.S. and European authorities, and other great powers, expect in terms of foreign policy changes?

Relations between Ankara and its Western allies have sunk to historic lows, with mutual antagonism featuring in nearly every area of cooperation—oftentimes worsened by unnecessary and irrational gestures. Much of the discussion of the relationship has been quite narrow, limited to disputes over F-16 sales, NATO expansion, and the conflict in Syria. Nevertheless, there are numerous mutual interests that could be promptly advanced by a new opposition-led government.

A NATO member, Turkey sits at an unusually important global crossroads, bridging West and East—and the country’s geostrategic location has only risen in importance with Moscow’s war in Ukraine.

There are clear indications that, should an opposition alliance sweep to power, the tone of diplomatic relations regarding Ukraine would shift. Meral Aksener, leader of the IYI Party, in addition to being a former interior minister and vice speaker of parliament, was one of the first Turkish politicians to denounce Russia’s rigged referendums in eastern Ukraine. Her staunch position is broadly supported by the Turkish people who have historically empathized with the Crimean Tatars.

Very early on, Aksener argued that Russia’s conduct represented “ a clear violation of the right to sovereignty which is the basis of international law, and that Putin’s adventurist behavior is not only a threat to Ukraine but to the security and territorial integrity of all countries in the region.”

To date, Turkey has not joined Western sanctions against Russia, but it has played an important role in brokering successful agreements, such as the Black Sea Grain Initiative. This is proof of the value of the U.S.-Turkey Strategic Mechanism. With Ankara likely to play a crucial role in future potential peace talks, it is critical that the next administration reflects a stronger rejection of the illegal invasion and occupation of Ukraine.

Most Turkish voters favor productive rather than antagonistic relations with Western allies. The public is historically weary of Russian expansionism, dating back to the Russo-Ottoman wars. Neither did Josef Stalin’s attempts to violate the 1925 Turkish-Soviet Treaty with his demands for military bases near the Bosporus Straits and attempts to annex territories such as Kars, Ardahan, and possibly areas of Erzurum and the Eastern Black Sea endear the Turkish people to Russia. Moscow’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine’s sovereign territory is therefore viewed with skepticism.

Relations with China could also see some changes. Aksener recently hosted a visit with Omer Kanat, the chairman of the World Uyghur Congress, to discuss how Turkey could help to protect this vulnerable community from persecution. Other opposition leaders have similarly expressed interest in protecting the Uyghur population.

Adding to these areas of cooperation, Turkey plays a key role in providing stability to regional energy security and food security since the country sits at the most important transit point between the Black Sea grain economies and serves as a primary conduit for the energy resources of the Central Asian basin. The pandemic and Russia’s war in Ukraine are evidence that even the slightest disruption in these markets sends shockwaves through the global economy, where shifts in fuel and food prices can result in widespread discontent and even oust governments.

But with closer cooperation, opportunities can multiply. Turkey is close in proximity to more than half the world’s oil and gas reserves, it is well positioned to become a major thoroughfare for energy security and can, potentially, play an important role in the development of eastern Mediterranean natural gas reserves.

The current government has wasted numerous opportunities to develop a more prominent role for Turkey in the region because it has been too focused on appearance over substance, populist slogans over well-thought-out policies, and petty gamesmanship over substantive statecraft. If Turkey actually wants to have “zero problems with neighbors” then it needs a government that will treat neighbors in good faith, not seek to exploit circumstances for domestic political gains and against the interests of its own people.

In their platform, Aksener and the IYI Party have recognized the importance of restoring what used to be a highly functional set of multilateral relationships with Turkey’s allies. This does not mean that all differences and disagreements would dissolve overnight, but it does mean that opportunities for cooperation would expand significantly, contributing to the stability and prosperity of Turkey, the region, and beyond.

For these reasons, this election is one to watch closely. It may be the final opportunity for Turkey’s voters to seek true representation in their leadership.

Prof. Ivan Sascha Sheehan is the associate dean of the College of Public Affairs and past executive director of the School of Public and International Affairs at the University of Baltimore. Opinions expressed are his own. Follow him on Twitter @ProfSheehan.

Image: Shutterstock.

Manufacturing wages are increasing in China, alongside the intensity of the U.S.-China rivalry.

This new problem for Beijing could prove a blessing for the United States and Mexico, especially given Washington’s recent drive to re- and ally-shore manufacting and industry. Perhaps it is time to ask: can these two economies be taken to the next level by increased investment in manufacturing?

Doing so could do more than just provide jobs and support U.S. national security objectives; it could also solve immigration pressures by creating better jobs in Mexico while also expanding U.S. exports to Mexico. In addition, it would strengthen America’s supply chain resiliency

This would also be good news for American manufacturers and, in an odd twist, American workers. After all, about 40 percent of the content of goods assembled in Mexico and shipped out as exports are made in America. For stuff assembled in China, only 4 percent of the content is made in America. Arguably, U.S. imports of Mexican products are ten times better for American workers when compared to Chinese imports.

Let’s take a closer look at the interesting triangle of trade and investment between Mexico, America, and China.

China’s Loss is Mexico’s and America’s Gain 

According to Alix Partners, a consultancy, Mexico has surpassed China as the lowest-cost country in the world for companies looking to manufacture products for North American markets. Mexico’s wages are now about 25 percent lower than in China. When coupled with lower taxes and tariffs, the numbers look even more favorable.

In addition, report demonstrates that across many industries, China’s cost advantage in producing goods and delivering them to Long Beach, California versus an American manufacturer has evaporated. Add to this higher transportation costs and intra North Amerian trade attains a decisive advantage: moving goods by sea from America to Asia takes three to give weeks, while America to Mexico transit time is a mere on to four days.

In addition to the cost factor, flexibility, speed of response, and ease of oversight all supports the movement of production from China to North America. No wonder American bilateral trade with Mexico has been trending up sharply.

Ironically, these very trends have led to Chinese companies moving production to Mexico to avoid trade restrictions and capitalize on the trade advantages that come from geographic proximity.

The Coming North American Boon?

Many U.S. companies are finally realizing that Mexico is a better option than China to manufacture many of the consumer goods for U.S. and Latin American markets. They join an already well-developed and experienced crowd: the United States is already the biggest foreign direct investor in Mexico accounting for about half of all foreign investment, according to State Department sources.

How will all this shake out, and what will American congressmen (and U.S. labor groups) think of U.S. multinationals shifting manufacturing from China to Mexico?

American firms still export three times as much to Mexico as they do to China. And, Mexico, in turn, sends 79 percent of its exports back across U.S. borders. In comparison, Mexico’s exports to its giant neighbor to the south, Brazil, account for only 1 percent of its exports according to World Bank statistics. Mexico has also launched more free-trade agreements that involve more than forty countries—more than any other country and enough to cover more than 90 percent of the country’s foreign trade. Finally, Mexican goods can be exported duty-free to the United States, Canada, the European Union, most of Central and Latin America, and to Japan.

If we can improve safety and security as well as railways, roadways, and ports, we could see a manufacturing boom that lifts both Americans and Mexicans.

Carl Delfeld is a senior fellow at the Hay Seward Economic Security Council, publisher of the Independent Republican, and was U.S. Representative to the Asian Development Bank. His latest book is Power Rivals: America and China’s Superpower Struggle.

Image: Fevziie​/Shutterstock.

Abbas Ibrahim, the long-running director general of Lebanon’s General Directorate of General Security (GSO), ended his term on March 2 after reaching the mandatory retirement age of sixty-four. Ibrahim, who was elevated to the position amidst the Arab Spring movements of 2011, held the position for twelve years. During that time, he forged cross-cutting relationships that would prove his capacity as a dealmaker in otherwise impossible scenarios. This included impressive efforts to free hostages in Syria and Iran, as well as reportedly passing messages to Hezbollah in the recent Lebanon-Israel gas deal. Yet as he stepped down, the major general made clear that he holds future political ambitions which hold substantial weight in the Lebanese political scene.

“It is my national and professional duty to serve others and their rights,” Ibrahim noted as he stepped down.“ Tomorrow, we will continue the path on several other grounds in order to raise Lebanon.”

Lebanon’s Hezbollah reportedly worked tirelessly to extend Ibrahim’s term, attempting to for Prime Minister Najib Mikati’s hand through the cabinet. Although supposedly on very good terms with Ibrahim, Mikati made publicly clear that he did not view this as a legal option for the cabinet, calling on parliament to do so itself. This proved even more difficult given the state of deadlock in the parliament because of disagreements over Lebanon’s next president.

The Lebanese Parliament has failed to elect a president eleven different times since former president Michel Aoun ended his term in October of last year. There is currently a substantial divide between two establishment camps—one led by the right-wing, Christian Lebanese Forces (LF) and once led by the Iran-backed Lebanese Hezbollah—that has ultimately produced no qualified majority vote (two-thirds of parliament, or 86 of 128 votes) for a candidate.

As a result, dozens of members of parliament (MPs) have boycotted plenary sessions, citing dubious legal grounds for the parliament to do much of anything under the current constitutional crisis (i.e., without a president). This has mainly included MPs from Christian parties—interestingly including the Free Patriotic Movement (FPM), a Hezbollah ally. FPM’s support for this stance stems, at least in part, from Hezbollah’s refusal to support FPM leader Gebran Bassil’s candidacy for the presidency. Unfortunately for Ibrahim, such a session was required to amend the law allowing him to remain in his GSO position.

To be sure, however, Ibrahim’s forced retirement is not strictly a coincidental result of adjacent parliamentary politics and Hezbollah expending far too much political capital on other issues. Rather, there are very real political rivalries that likely hurt his chances of staying at the GSO. Namely, this falls to the head of the Shi’ite Amal Party and Parliamentary Speaker Nabih Berri, who is reported to have negative views of Ibrahim given the former GSO director’s utility to Hezbollah. Given Berri’s good working relationship with Mikati, this likely explains why the latter chose not to unilaterally renew Ibrahim’s term through the cabinet.

Given Ibrahim’s capacity as a problem solver and bridge builder in various security, diplomatic, and political arenas, Berri could view him as a threat to his own relative power and relationship to Hezbollah. While Amal is the natural and historic go-to partner for Hezbollah as the other major Shi’ite party in Lebanon, Berri is regularly crowded out by Ibrahim as Hezbollah’s preferred mediator between the major Lebanese and international political leaders. Of potentially greater importance, however, are rumors that Ibrahim could be next in line to take the parliamentary speakership with Hezbollah’s blessing. Such a move would explain the group’s public admission of failure to renew Ibrahim’s term—an uncommon sentiment rarely expressed by Hezbollah—as it would suggest they possibly received something in return for the retirement.

It is no secret that Berri is likely nearing the final years of his political career at eighty-five years of age. He has served as the parliamentary speaker since 1992 and has ran Amal since 1980. He is one of a withering number of political heavyweights that arose from the Lebanese civil war between 1975–90. Yet while he represents an older age of Lebanese politics, the wrangling that will certainly arise around his position makes Ibrahim’s path to the seat difficult. Indeed, Amal will not give up the position so easily, regardless of Hezbollah pressure. Whether Ibrahim has the political relationships within Amal—all the while holding a rivalry with Berri—remains to be seen.

With parliamentary elections slated for 2026, such a conversation has time to fester. For now, Ibrahim appears to be eyeing a potential cabinet seat. Some reports have highlighted the foreign ministry as a natural landing spot for the adept general, given his strong cross-cutting relationships. However, such a role would be difficult within Lebanon’s highly confessional governance system. The foreign ministry is typically held by a Christian, and is a highly demanded ministry alongside others such as the ministries of finance and the interior. It is thus difficult to see Ibrahim finding his way there, barring a major political deal.

Regardless of Ibrahim’s future in Lebanese governance—and he will have a future in it—his fall from the GSO is notable amidst the broader context of Lebanese politics today. For a figure with as much popularity as the former GSO director, both amongst political elites and the people, to not see his term extended is another marked institutional failure in a long line of shortcomings for the Lebanese government.

This is not to suggest the man is a paragon of virtue—simply observing the GSO’s brutal treatment of Syrians offers enough to reject Ibrahim as an official. However, it does speak to the scale of institutional collapse pervading the country today, in which most would likely have wished to renew his term but viewed other political battles as more important. Unfortunately, this reality has long defined Lebanese politics, even if much more accentuated in recent years, and will continue to do so for quite some time barring major reform or a discovery of conscience amongst the political elites.

Alexander Langlois is a foreign policy analyst focused on the Middle East and North Africa. He holds an M.A. in International Affairs from American University’s School of International Service. Follow him at @langloisajl.

Image: Shutterstock.

The world stands at a paradigm shift; a thunder of meeting, fighting tectonic plates. Vaclav Klaus, in a forthcoming article in The Hungarian Conservative, laments the passing of an old order. The move from one epoch to another is reminiscent of Mathew Arnold’s poem “Dover Beach,” where the ebbing of the sea of faith had ceased caressing the shores of the world. Now is “the melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, retreating, to the breath of the night-wind.” Likewise, the thunder of change beckons in the dismantling of Westphalia and the end of a unipolar liberal world.

The Peace of Westphalia of 1648 ended the Thirty Years War, ostensibly between Catholic and Protestant Europe; a war in which approximately eight million people had died. The Peace gave birth to the idea of “Westphalian Sovereignty” from the ruins of the certainty of the Holy Roman Empire. For our purposes, although Westphalia was not tantamount to the birth of nation-states, it did establish a conception of the sacrosanct nature of borders and a right to self-determination. This type of sovereignty has faced challenges from two fronts after 300 years of its principled acceptance, although not “rigorous” application. Firstly there came the tsunami of globalization—and, like its predecessor, the Bretton Woods system, toppled national frontiers with its ebullient energy. This was the self-satisfied 1990s, that sad decade when “The End of [Insert Idea]”  followed one after another; when historians, in true Hegelian hysteria, competed to forecast the end of something or other. The “End of History” was here; it was a triumph of Enlightenment virtues, a liberal democratic mission to be exported, of capitalism and Coca-Cola.

That era of Occidental thinking is drawing to a close. When the “New World” discoveries and Britain’s maritime ascendancy set in motion the modern nomos of the world from the fifteenth century onwards, that also appeared fixed and certain. Each epoch believes in the permanence of its own ideal, its territory and nomos.

Nomos was the Greek phrase Carl Schmitt used to describe these lurching, giant states (or civilizational states) and their remit to conquer the world, from the Roman Empire onwards. Nomos derives from a state’s geographical, cultural, and resource domination. The jus publicum Europaeum which came out of the end of the Holy Roman Empire formed the basis for European hegemony. The curse of progress, its Achilles heel, is to believe in the eternity of the present.

The new nomos of the Earth is not globalization or liberal democracy. It is not Islam. In fact, it is something fed and nurtured by all empires or civilizations once they lose the spirit of their early hegemony and hand over the keys to a competitor; it is a type of complacency. They wave goodbye to the ethos which made them successful in the first place. Homogeneity is key to a successful empire.

Chinese foreign minister Wang Yi speaks of how Xi Jinping has strived to transform the present structure of international relations. Xi has “made innovations on and transcended the traditional Western theories of international relations for the past 300 years,” with a striking iconoclastic reference to Westphalia. This, again, is at odds with the up-to-now prevalent view of China—the distant, insular, Silk Road repository of Confucian splendid isolation. The Occident, wearing its kulturbrille, only sees what it wants to see: a benevolent world of liberal democratic norms.

As Gloucester warns in King Lear, “Tis the times plague, when madmen lead the blind.” The Faustian pact between Russia and China is not a causal necessity of the Ukraine conflict but an alliance to systemically rewrite the nomos of the world. The Chinese have a phrase: Tianxia, meaning “All Under Heaven,” which places order and conformity above all else. The emperor was always not merely the Emperor of China, but of the world. Chinese thinking equates the existence of one sun to one earthly ruler. The emperor was akin to the divine right of European kings. The Qin Han dynasty, from the third century BC, saw a Confucian legalism that ruled for more than two millennia in Eastern Eurasia, until the end of the nineteenth century.

Modern China is resurrecting this dynasty of tributary taxation, through economic dependence, soft loans, and creating a Chinese diaspora throughout Asia and Africa. The Occident, like Oedipus, has gouged out its eyes of perception—a willing blindfolding for the outsourcing of manufacturing capacity and cheap imports. Yet in China, according to Wang Fei Ling, “foreign policy analysts have presented the rejuvenated Tianxia idea as a legitimate or superior alternative to and powerful critique of the Westphalia world order.”

It is a mythical, easy sell to the Chinese population, with a hereditary view of other Asian states as tributaries. Ideas-based civilizational states, like China and Russia, utilize narratives of historic destiny, like the “conservative revolution” thinkers of Weimar. These states see their goals as long-term and historic, divinely ratified. They see beyond the short-termism of representative democracy. Economic growth is just one aspect of such a destiny. Western notions of “progress” are aligned with a colonial view of globalization. It is a Westphalia 2.0: nation-states and FDI-driven global capital. The winner of this race is able to utilize resources, investment, and labor. China arrived late at the party; but it has arrived.

Not surprising that the pushback by Russia also focuses on this perceived imbalance. The war in Ukraine was not a sudden vision by Vladimir Putin—Russians use planning trajectories for their economy and geopolitical forecasting. It was only last year that, the RAND Corporation published Russian Military Forecasting and Planning, based on research since 2019.

The main weakness of the Occident is short-termism with regard to forecasting and planning. It is endemic to the West’s government and reduces the ability to see long term, beyond the next election. The Western focus on liberal norms, rights, and global democracy only works in a game played by everyone. Once the Westphalian system of nation-states became consumed by empire building and now, globalization, the quid pro quo, the balance, was gone.

The RAND report postulates that Russia sees the geopolitical dynamic as having two possible paths. One is the continuance of a unipolar world of liberal governance and globalization, based on a Western financial system and U.S. dominance in foreign policy. The second alternative is Russia probing and attempting to dismantle this hegemony. This is due to their perceived inability to achieve economic goals, along with access to capital and technology. An axis consisting of China and Russia makes this much more likely. The Ukraine war is not about Ukraine itself—it is this vying for position; it is this intrinsic planning, what the Russians call a “VPO” analysis, which sees its strategy as a long game. Underlying all of this is a military perspective that needs to match adversaries. The Russians forecast that, under existing trajectories of globalization, by 2040, the United States will be 60 percent stronger in military capacity. Globalization is a Janus-faced chalice for Russia; at once a source of oil revenue, yet potentially debilitating. Economic sanctions compound the problem and restrict access to technologies and capital. For the Russians, war is a means to disrupt the flow of geopolitics. The second alternative sees a VPO of a reformed military balance in which China, by 2040, equals the United States in military capability and the Russian deficit is reduced to 20 percent.

This vision, called “Bipolarity 2.0,” now drives Russian and Chinese policy. It aims to create favorable blocs in BRICS group (named after Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa) and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation. Yet, faced with losses of weapons and manpower in Ukraine, the Russian game is spluttering. The technological boycott could be brutal for Russia. Hence the Russian “soft” policy of building alliances with Western dissidence—the parties of a “cultural” diaspora who see the negative dynamic of globalization culture. Hungary, Serbia, Italy, and the United States have a populist groundswell of democratic resistance to liberalism. This may be a fertile ground for Russia, as Western norms deracinate their own societies from the inside. The oft-quoted “liberal democracy” is fraught with contradiction. Representative democracy is a miasma of democracy; it is a system to regulate and administer an international system of capital flows dependent on migratory cheap labor and resources. Elite manipulation is now noticing pushback in liberal democracies as a working class, culturally disenfranchised bloc supports more nationalist, indigenous populism. This may be a bigger threat than the external great power game.

For the Chinese, tianxia is back on the agenda after the hiatus of communism. China, according to Henry Kissinger, “considered itself, in a sense, the sole sovereign government of the world.” For Xi Jinping, China becomes a middle kingdom of tributary vassal states. Tianxia brings order to the chaos of Westphalia.

It is this fusion of idealized myth and realpolitik which drives China and Russia: the borderless tributary empire of the Chinese emperors and the endless steppe of Dostoyevsky’s Russia. The rhetoric of China’s “Global Security Initiative” of April 2022, continued the underlying vogue of expansive dominance, purporting “security for all in the world..and oppose the pursuit of one's own security at the expense of others.” There is also a rebuffing against the internal damage of globalization to core Chinese cultural values—Geliguojia, or “separated country” of the emperors. It is the best of both worlds for Xi and a continuation of Mao’s vision of communism on a world scale.

Therefore, two suns are setting on the world; the Westphalian one of 300 years and the Chinese one of the Qin Han dynasties. Yet for the Chinese, there is only one sun in heaven, and they refuse to play second fiddle to the West. In part “revanchist”—a settling of scores from the days of colonial powers—and an assault on the weakness of Western liberal cultures. It is a sore test for the sons of the Enlightenment and for the architects of Westphalia, who ditched the civilizational state of the Holy Roman Empire for the solace of independent states.

Nevertheless, the weaknesses of authoritarian, top-down states such as Russia and China are their increasing reliance on a type of expansive nationalism. Civilizations are eclipsed not by external threats but by internal incoherence. In this, both the Occident and the Orient are obscured by haze; a lack of a moral teleology hinders both. Resources and geopolitics signify a lack of Plato’s “care for the soul.” Bound to the wall of Plato’s cave, it will take an epoch-shifting Spenglerian change to drag humanity from the cave of its own making and into the blinding sunlight.

Brian Patrick Bolger studied at the LSE. He has taught political philosophy and applied linguistics in universities across Europe. His articles have appeared in the United States, the UK, Italy, Canada, and Germany in magazines such as The National Interest, GeoPolitical Monitor, Merion West, Voegelin View, The Montreal Review, The European Conservative, Visegrad Insight, The Hungarian Conservative, The Salisbury Review,The Village, New English Review, The Burkean, The Daily Globe, American Thinker, The Internationalist, and Philosophy News. His book, Coronavirus and the Strange Death of Truth, is now available in the UK and the United States. His new book, Nowhere Fast: The Decline of Liberal Democracy, will be published soon by Ethics International Press.

Image: Shutterstock.

On Monday, U.S. president Joe Biden, UK prime minister Rishi Sunak, and Australian prime minister Anthony Albanese announced the pathway for AUKUS that will deliver nuclear-powered submarines to Australia. Canberra will purchase 3–5 Virginia class SSN submarines from the United States before buying eight newly-designed, UK- and Australian-built SSN-AUKUS subs. The deal outlines new docking, training, and rotation agreements that will provide the United States with a more robust strategic hub in the Indo-Pacific.

The three leaders have promised that the submarine projects (otherwise known as Pillar 1) will create jobs, educational opportunities, and investment for all three countries. While the announcement is welcome in its bold strategic vision, it remains scant on details and does not address the elephant in the room: the current weakness in the combined defense industrial capacity to produce so many boats in so little time with so few resources.

Recent discussions about a lack of industrial capacity to support the AUKUS submarine project highlight the continuing difficulties facing the trilateral technology security agreement. Leaders in Washington, Canberra, and London all express the will to make nuclear attack submarines a reality for the Australian Defence Force in order to deter China in the Indo-Pacific. But the “hard yakka”—hard work—of building submarines doesn’t happen in the national capitals. Regional, state, and local politics and markets—including debates about sourcing for raw materials, and development of skilled labor pools, requires attention. Public pressure is the force necessary to untangle the Byzantine knot of regulations frustrating the sharing of classified and otherwise sensitive know-how, and will make or break the program. While platitudes around “mateship” and the strength and history of the U.S.-Australia alliance sound comforting, the fundamental groundwork to make AUKUS a success will require previously unimagined levels of political and financial investment in the locales where SSNs are designed, constructed, and maintained.

Politics Begins at the Kitchen Table

As expressed by ASPI DC Director Mark Watson in the Australian Financial Review, “regardless of the strongly stated political and military support for AUKUS, members of Congress could begin to take a more ambivalent view [of that support] if it comes at the expense of US operational readiness,” even when the strategic logic is compelling. Moreover, if policymakers don’t provide incentives and benefits—jobs, educational opportunities, or tax breaks—to get rank-and-file voters onboard, the American, British, and Australian publics will be unlikely to make the necessary sacrifices and investments to see the deal through. 

Failure to seek public support among key populations and to explain why AUKUS matters beyond the strategic area of the Indo-Pacific reveals a misunderstanding of what is required. For example, while U.S. Congressional committees and Oval Office staffers make key decisions on the future of nuclear submarines for Australia, American taxpayers will, at some point, demand evidence of a return on their investment.

Without that dividend, Australia’s requirement for a long-range submarine capability will remain unmet. And American interests in linking industrial bases and integrating defense supply chains to share the burden of countering China through “collective efforts over the next decade” will founder. U.S. officials, Australian and British diplomats, and supportive strategists and researchers must make these arguments now.

The “Hard Yakka” of Subnational Engagement

The term “subnational diplomacy” refers to the engagement of non-central governments in international relations and can include the foreign policy efforts of states and cities. We have seen negative publicity regarding subnational diplomacy in Australia in the case of the Victorian state government’s aborted agreement with China on a proposed Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) in 2019. But for countries such as Australia and the United States, these sorts of relations are commonplace and generally constructive. As Washington’s prime characteristics are partisanship and a short attention span, it is no wonder many promising, bipartisan projects falter when campaign seasons begin or when other pressing foreign or domestic issues distract policymakers from following through. A subnational campaign to drive home the importance of AUKUS could help overcome these perennial, structural problems.

For starters, entrenching the U.S.-Australia alliance and particular projects associated with AUKUS at a state level can ensure Australia sells the importance of its interests to America’s voters. Australia has proposed investing $2 billion, mostly in America’s shipyards to expand and expedite production of the Virginia-class submarines. Building submarines means creating an ecosystem for these states and local economies, which is not only about jobs but building interpersonal relationships and stronger communities as well. Australian policymakers will need to visit more than just Washington to discover the people who will be front-and-center for AUKUS and who will help Australia meet its needs. Sending delegations that include officials and industry representatives from Australian states and localities to boat-building cities in Connecticut and Virginia is a necessary next step.

Engaging on the ground means learning about and dealing with local politicians and community leaders. It also means dealing with labor unions, fabrication companies, and the manufacturers of components beyond the nuclear technology that garners so much attention among DC tongue-waggers. State governments hold the purse strings on building new and refurbishing old shipyards or creating tax conditions and tax breaks for AUKUS-related investments. Collaborating with state governments, county officials, and mayors will promote a smoother process of getting submarines quickly into the hands of Australian defense personnel. Moreover, robust subnational outreach opens the door to new investment opportunities for Australian companies in the United States and US companies to invest in Australia.

The demand for full-society cooperation and coordination is even more important for the second pillar of AUKUS. Pillar 2 promises advances and sharing in advanced weaponry and technologies—such as AI, cyber, quantum computing, and undersea capabilities—and for which states such as Arizona, Michigan, and Utah may play prominent roles. In these various fields, private sector actors often are the lead innovators—and the lead investors. Commercial players working in conjunction with state and local governments is the way to fast-track the development of dual-use technologies and avoid ponderous federal bureaucracies and partisan DC politics.

From the Politician to the Welder

Selling governors and mayors on the benefits of AUKUS investment—things they already want—coupled with a national security message is smart. Subnational engagement will pay dividends when the time comes for Australia to develop maintenance facilities for the new SSNs or to create new industrial hubs to support integrated AUKUS shipbuilding that combines the industrial bases of all three partners. Australia, too, will need workers, high-tech fabrication yards, and access to vital materials. Standard setting across shops and opportunities for cross-training workers—including apprenticeships connecting specialists in Groton and Newport News and experts in Barrow-in-Furness with trainees in Perth and Adelaide will be important.

The “all of country” approach needed to meet the strategic challenges facing the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia is an “integrated industrial base” that benefits all three societies. The AUKUS Optimal Pathway is a welcome step in the right direction. However, if the partners are serious about deterring China, then subnational engagement—from the politician to the welder—is an imperative.

Iain MacGillivray is an analyst at ASPI Washington DC. He is a researcher and foreign policy analyst with over thirteen years of experience in Australia and overseas. His research areas and expertise include Middle Eastern politics and security, detailed knowledge of geopolitics and international affairs in the Indo-Pacific, and the QUAD and AUKUS.

Greg Brown is Senior Analyst at the Australian Strategic Policy Institute in Washington, DC, and an Adjunct Professor at the Center for Australian, New Zealand, and Pacific Studies at Georgetown University.

Image: Shutterstock.

À l'ère du numérique, les données généalogiques, comme de nombreuses collections photographiques, passent du statut de patrimoine historique à celui de capital économique possédé par quelques entreprises. La notion même de patrimoine comme bien commun universel est donc à réinventer. / Commerce, (...) / Commerce, Technologies de l'information, Génétique, Religion, États-Unis, Entreprise - 2018/01