The National Interest

The excitement with which diplomats and pundits reacted to the news about last week’s China-brokered diplomatic deal between Saudi Arabia and Iran, would have led one to conclude that the “handshake heard around the world” wouldn’t only achieve peace between the most powerful Arab-Sunni state, Saudi Arabia, and the Persian-Shiite hegemon, Iran, but would also reshape the regional balance of power if not the entire international system, sidelining the United States and creating the foundations of Pax Sinica in the Middle East.

In a way, it evoked the memories of a historic event: the U.S.-brokered Egyptian-Israeli peace agreement that created the basis for Arab-Israeli peace and, in the process, remade the Middle East, sidelining the Soviet Union from the region and established Washington as hegemon in that part of the world for many years to come.

But that 1979 agreement, facilitated by then-U.S. president Jimmy Carter, was an earth-shattering event. It happened, against the backdrop of the Cold War, following the 1973 Yom Kippur war (which raised the nuclear tensions between the two superpowers) and after the earlier and costly U.S. diplomatic and military interventions in the Middle East that damaged America’s standing in the Arab World and led to a devastating oil embargo.

It was only in the aftermath of that successful 1979 diplomatic triumph that Washington established its dominant role in the Middle East—and it ended up paying higher diplomatic, military, and economic costs for doing so. These include the rise of anti-American terrorism (including 9/11), a series of long and destructive wars in the Middle East, and failed efforts to revive the Arab-Israeli peace process. All of these ended up destabilizing the region, instead of democratizing it, while eroding the U.S. global status, including vis-à-vis rising China.

Indeed, it would not be an exaggeration to conclude in the aftermath of the US military interventions in the Middle East that the War on Terror ended—and China won.

While the Americans were fighting and dying in the region, China got busy. It joined the World Trade Organization (WTO) on December 11, 2001, exactly two months after the collapse of the World Trade Center. Facing no serious military challenges, it spent the following two decades strengthening its economy and emerging as a global power ready to compete with the United States. And thanks to the American military interventions in the Middle East, the Chinese benefited from free access to the energy resources in the region. Good deal!

In public discourse, there is now a notion that the Chinese will now replace the United States in a leadership role in the region: mediating between the Saudis and the Iranians, perhaps making peace between the Arabs and Israelis, securing the oil sites in the Persian Gulf, and using its power to stabilize the Middle East, and if necessary, being drawn this war or that war. To some Americans, this may even sound like good news: here are the keys, China; good luck with running this show.

But before Americans start debating “who lost the Middle East,” as Washington DC did so hysterically after the announcement of the deal, they should probably pause to consider a few plain realities. Americans find it difficult to assess the politics of the Middle East and U.S. policy there in binary terms and in a linear fashion: in trying to operate under the assumption that regional alliances are stable and partnerships with outside powers are sustainable, they are always surprised to discover that that isn’t the case.

Hence, in the Middle East, one doesn’t fantasize about remaking the Middle East through wars and regime change, or that a so-called Arab Spring would turn the region into a center of democracy, or that perpetual peace would supposedly flow forth from the Abraham Accords. One can only search for the diplomatic equivalents of one-night stands that may or may not facilitate some long-term changes and more stable relationships.

The United States, not unlike other great powers—including the Soviet Union, Great Britain, and France—has discovered that it is impossible for outsiders to impose their agendas on the Middle East. In that region of the world, everything is tied to everything else—the boundaries between local, national, and international issues are blurred. Any attempt by an outside power to impose a solution results in counterforts set up by unsatisfied actors, aimed at forming opposing regional alliances and securing the support of other local players and international actors. As renowned Middle East historian L. Carl Brown suggested, “just as with the tilt of the kaleidoscope, the many tiny pieces of colored glass all move to a new configuration, so any diplomatic initiative in the Middle East sets in motion a realignment of the players.”

One Middle Eastern leader who clearly is familiar with the way things work in the region work is Saudi crown prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS), who at one point was imagined by Americans to be a progressive reformer, and then turned into the region’s butcher; a pro-American Arab moderate that would help form a regional NATO to contain Iran, make peace with Israel and help lower energy prices, ends up, to everyone’s shock, partnering with Russia’s evil Vladimir Putin, falling in love with China, and making peace with Iran.

But in fact, it is MBS and not the (Shocked! Shocked! Shocked!) Americans who has correctly read the map of the Middle East and perhaps even what is happening in Washington—and from there operates based on what he considers to be Saudi interests.

MBS, not unlike Israel, rejected U.S. pleas to join the pro-Ukraine camp over the Ukraine War. This is not because he opposes America’s alliance of democracies, but because Russia is Saudi Arabia’s key oil partner. Both states have a common interest to keep oil prices high. It is to Russia with love today, but affairs of that kind don’t last forever—as the Russians who were forced out of Egypt by the late President Anwar Sadat discovered.

MBS, like the Israelis, also recognized that, while America continues to maintain a military presence in the Middle East, it isn’t necessary to go to war against Iran to end its nuclear program or to protect Saudi security, regardless of whether the right-wing Donald Trump occupies the White House or the liberal Joe Biden who replaced him.

The evolving Saudi partnership with Israel—green-lighting the signing of the Abraham Accords and raising the possibility of normalizing relations with the Jewish state—was part of a strategy to counter Iran’s threat. The other side of this plan was a series of negotiations—mediated by Iraq and later by China—to reestablish diplomatic ties with the Islamic Republic. Flirting with Israel doesn’t necessarily mean a full-blown divorce with Iran, and ending the civil war in Yemen is a good thing, even if China is the one that brokers the deal.

That the economic ties between Saudi Arabia and China—the latter of which receives 40 percent of its oil imports from the Middle East—have expanded demonstrates the extent to which “soft power” can play a role in the strengthening of the diplomatic ties between Riyadh and Beijing, despite the fact that China has been accused to persecuting its Muslim minority—a policy that also doesn’t seem to affect Tehran’s ties with Beijing.

But didn’t “soft power” attain a bad name after Germany’s ill-fated attempt to co-opt Russia failed when it came to Ukraine? The Saudis know that when push comes to shove and Iran violates any deal it signs with Riyadh or goes nuclear, China won’t save it from Iran’s military aggression.

Without all the drama surrounding the Iranian-Saudi handshake, it can be seen as another Machiavellian move by MBS to press Biden and his cadre of progressive Democrats to recognize that the Saudis can dance in three weddings at the same time: Riyadh can maintain its partnership with the United States while constructing one with China and trying to play nice with Iran. And that if the Americans would like to see normalization with Israel going forward, they need to provide Riyadh with more weapons and security guarantees. And, no less important, stop bashing MBS.

Dr. Leon Hadar, a contributing editor at The National Interest, has taught international relations at American University and was a research fellow with the Cato Institute. A former UN correspondent for the Jerusalem Post, he currently covers Washington for the Business Times of Singapore and is a columnist/blogger with Israel’s Haaretz.

Image: Shutterstock.

As Taiwan approaches its next presidential election in 2024, the nation finds itself at a critical juncture, as voters face a choice about Taiwan’s future role in the Indo-Pacific region.

Although both major political parties have yet to decide on their presidential candidate, one emerging area of debate focuses on whether international efforts—particularly those of the U.S.—to support Taiwan's security should be seen as credible and trustworthy. Taiwan’s current Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) administration, led by President Tsai Ing-wen, has worked closely with the United States and international partners to carefully maintain the cross-Strait status quo and bolster Taiwan’s defense capabilities.

On the other hand, narratives that portray U.S. support for Taiwan with skepticism and distrust have also emerged in Taiwan’s public discourse. While it is unsurprising that commentary from Chinese state media would actively seek to discredit international support for Taiwan’s defense, in recent years, politicians from Taiwan’s largest opposition party, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), have also adopted similar rhetoric. A closer analysis of these misleading narratives can reveal how shifts in public opinion in Taiwan could bring wide-ranging ramifications for regional security.

The KMT’s ill-timed delegation to Beijing

Amid heightened international criticism toward China, lately exacerbated by the Chinese spy balloon incident, the KMT sent a high-level delegation to Beijing led by Vice Chairman Andrew Hsia last month. At a moment when the international community seeks to firmly support Taiwan’s efforts to defend itself against China, the KMT’s actions to build ties with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) send a contradictory and confusing message.

Although the ill-timed delegation claimed to focus on economic issues, the trip also touched upon political statements, such as reiterating the KMT and CCP’s joint adherence to the so-called “1992 consensus”—a formula which the KMT defines as “One China, different interpretations,” but the CCP simply defines as “One China.”

Hsia’s delegation seems to have dispersed any notion that the KMT is trying to detach itself from its “pro-China” image at home and abroad. However, the delegation can only be seen as one of the several indicators that the KMT continues to face internal pressure to prioritize relations with China, as many prominent voices within the party have consistently expressed staunch opposition towards U.S. policies regarding Taiwan on a wide range of issues.

Misleading narratives on international support for Taiwan

Despite a historic background in anti-communism, the KMT has experienced a drastic realignment in ideology in recent decades. Although the KMT once branded itself as a force of stability in Taiwanese politics, today it risks alienating moderate voters as it increasingly adopts hardline narratives that echo Beijing’s views.

In recent years, leading voices within the KMT have often expressed distrust towards international efforts to support Taiwan’s security. Lazy comparisons with Afghanistan or Ukraine have been employed to question the actions of the U.S. or Western democracies in general – either arguing that the U.S. would “abandon” Taiwan in a potential conflict with China, or that the U.S. will somehow use Taiwan as “cannon fodder” against China to further its own interests.

By glossing over major differences in geography and context, KMT hardliners have used inflammatory slogans such as “Today Afghanistan, Tomorrow Taiwan” to argue that the United States cannot be trusted when it comes to statements about Taiwan. Many comments by KMT legislators have focused on comparisons with Ukraine to argue that the United States would leave Taiwan to fend for itself in the case of war with China.

Some discussions involve the spreading of false information through Chinese or Russian-linked sources. In a recent example, a former KMT legislator shared a translated version of a tweet by Radio Sputnik’s Garland Nixon, provoking media controversy and rebuttals from both Taiwan’s foreign ministry and the American Institute in Taiwan—the de facto U.S. embassy. The original tweet read: “White House insiders leak that, when asked if there could be any greater disaster than the neocon Ukraine project, President Joe Biden responded, wait until you see our plan for the destruction of Taiwan.”

On economic issues, the KMT legislative caucus has strongly expressed its opposition against semiconductor giant TSMC's investments in microchip manufacturing in the United States, accusing that the move would “hollow out” Taiwan’s economy. Research by the Taiwanese non-profit group IORG traces the trajectory of how arguments against TSMC’s investments started on Chinese social media platforms as early as 2021. By early 2022, these views were amplified by KMT-leaning media pundits in Taiwan, citing TSMC’s establishment of production lines in Arizona as a sign of impending American abandonment of Taiwan, while receiving extensive coverage by Chinese state media. Cases like this show how the cross-referencing of sources from both sides of the Taiwan Strait can be used to influence public opinion. 

False equivalence on China could destabilize the region

In other instances, the KMT seems to argue for Taiwan to maintain an equal distance between China and the United States. In a telling example, New Taipei City mayor Hou You-yi, seen as a potential 2024 presidential candidate for the KMT, recently said that “Taiwan should not become a chess piece for any powerful country.” Hou’s language echoes views often expressed by Chinese state media, which characterize Taiwan’s partnership with the United States in a negative light and describe Taiwan as a “pawn” instead of a partner.

Many of these comments essentially attempt to present a false equivalence between the United States and China by refusing to choose sides. However, given that China is not a neutral actor in the Taiwan Strait and continues to increase its assertive behavior, a failure on Taiwan’s part to pursue close cooperation with the United States and like-minded democracies would only enable China to expand its military influence in the Taiwan Strait and beyond, while further destabilizing peace in the Indo-Pacific. 

Views skeptical toward international support for Taiwan could erode public confidence in Taiwan’s security and undermine mutual trust between Taiwan and its international partners. This type of reasoning could also weaken Taiwanese society’s resolve to resist China’s encroachment, leading to greater calls for a policy of appeasement on China—which would drastically alter existing geopolitical conditions in the Taiwan Strait.

In this context, visible gestures of support for Taiwan from like-minded democracies remain crucial in reassuring the public; whereas conflicting messages or predictions about Taiwan’s security could lead to confusion, even inadvertently fueling further distrust.

Strengthening peace through close international cooperation

In contrast with the KMT, Taiwan’s ruling Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has focused its efforts on building trust with international partners. Over the past seven years, the current DPP administration has relied on several important policy positions which continue to serve as pillars for Taiwan’s security. Among these important guidelines include the preservation of the cross-strait status quo, a firm but cautious approach towards managing relations with China, close alignment with like-minded democracies, promoting a healthy environment for international trade, contributions toward global humanitarian issues, as well as bolstering Taiwan’s defense capabilities through much-needed reforms. 

Remarks by Vice President Lai Ching-te (William Lai), who recently succeeded Tsai as chair of the DPP, indicate that the DPP’s major policy positions on foreign relations and cross-strait issues will remain consistent under Lai’s leadership. The vice president has repeatedly emphasized strong support for Tsai’s “Four Commitments,” a series of principles on managing cross-strait relations announced during the 2021 National Day address. Through remarks following his swearing-in ceremony on January 18 and many other occasions, Lai has made clear his intention to continue Tsai’s stable approach to maintaining the status quo, as well as his willingness to further strengthen Taiwan’s friendship with the international community.

In an era in which autocracies seek to challenge the rules-based international order, Taiwan must not distance itself from longstanding partnerships out of appeasement or cynicism. Countering harmful narratives that seek to discredit Taiwan’s relations with international partners continues to remain an issue of great importance. 

Fei-fan Lin is former Deputy Secretary-General of the Democratic Progressive Party. 

Wen Lii is Director of the Democratic Progressive Party’s local chapter in the Matsu Islands.

Image: Shutterstock.

Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has threatened an invasion of its neighbor and NATO partner Greece. The disputes between the two countries are numerous but lately have settled on the “militarization” of Greek Islands near the Turkish Aegean coast. Turkey claims that the military buildups in the islands are in reaction to Greek violations of the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne. Article 13 of the 100-year-old treaty states that “No naval base and no fortification will be established in the said islands.” However, the same Article 13 also states that “Turkish aircraft will forbid their military aircraft to fly over the said islands” and that “The Greek military forces in the said island will be limited to the normal contingent called up for military services.” 

Greece’s counterclaim is that Turkey has repeatedly violated its historical treaty obligations through continuous military flyovers and a consistent naval presence in the region. Greece has said that this threatens not only the territorial sovereignty of the islands but also the economic sovereignty of Greece’s continental shelf. While this source of friction brought the neighbors close to war in the 1970s, the two countries largely agreed to try to develop a framework for drilling rights and natural resource extraction in the eastern Aegean.

Over the past year, Turkey has applied increasing pressure on Greece and has adopted aggressive rhetoric. Erdoğan has threatened to strike Athens with ballistic missiles if it insists on “occupying” islands in the Aegean. At the 2023 World Economic Forum, Erdoğan warned the current Greek prime minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis that Türkiye “may come suddenly one night if they keep acting out” and that “[Mitsotakis] behave smartly or you will see the march of crazy Turks.” These bellicose statements follow other more ominous comments by Erdoğan: “We have only one word to tell Greece: Do not forget Izmir [Smyrna in Greek]” referring to the 1922 bloodletting that occurred when Turkish forces entered the Greek-occupied city of Smyrna. An estimated 100,000 people died in what Greeks have labeled as the “Catastrophe of Smyrna.” It is no surprise that such language alarms not only the Greek public, but also other NATO members.

It is difficult to assess whether Turkey will take the final plunge amid what will surely be a vitriolic reaction within NATO and elsewhere in the international community. But as Michael Rubin of the American Enterprise Institute has made clear, Erdoğan’s government could find it irresistible to use the recent flareup of the islands dispute as a pretext for an invasion. Looming elections potentially furnish Erdoğan with ample material to drum up nationalistic sentiment. Moreover, now that the Turkish courts appear to have prevented Istanbul mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu from running as a presidential candidate, Erdoğan may feel liberated from the constraints that may have heretofore stayed his hand.

Implications for NATO 

Another conflict between Turkey and Greece would confront NATO with difficult decisions. Turkey’s geopolitical significance cannot be overlooked. Beyond its control of the Black Sea straits, the Bosporus and the Dardanelles, it has historically been a platform from which to block Russian penetration of the Mediterranean and the Middle East, and from which America has been able to radiate its own influence. Over the last twenty years, Turkey simultaneously adopted a more populist and, given the pathologies of much of the Turkish public, anti-American approach. Since entering office, Erdoğan has empowered grassroots Islamism at the expense of the secular, pro-Western military elite. Similarly, Erdoğan’s adoption of Neo-Ottomanism and the Mavi Vatan sea strategy are at odds with American policy in the Eastern Mediterranean. Neo-Ottomanism attempts to build a coalition of nationalists and Islamists in Turkey, through the lens of Ottoman grandeur. In this way, a neo-Ottoman outlook offers both domestic groups something upon which they can agree. 

In contrast to souring relations between Washington and Ankara, the United States has vastly improved its relationship with Greece—the other half of NATO’s vital southern flank—since the election of Mitsotakis’ center-right government in 2019. This apparent shift in alliance relations multiplies the incentives for the United States to lean in Greece’s direction should hostilities occur, especially if Turkey is determined to be the aggressor. This appears to have shaped Erdoğan’s perception, with his blunt criticism of a new NATO base in Alexandroupoli, a Greek port sitting astride the Turkish border. This dynamic is further shaped by the diametrically-opposed trajectories of each ally’s domestic institutions, with Greece steadily liberalizing and Turkey moving in a more authoritarian direction. The Biden administration has positioned America to be one of the rallying democracies to oppose authoritarianism globally. A conflict between Turkey and Greece would provide this stance with a severe acid test. 

Geopolitical Impact 

The immediate implications of a Turkish invasion of the Greek islands are unclear. There are no provisions in the North Atlantic Treaty for sanctioning, expelling, or otherwise punishing a member state of NATO. In addition, NATO is constrained by procedure. NATO operates on the principle of unanimity is required, and unity amongst the twenty-nine member states requires compromise. For NATO to take any punitive action against one of its own would require the alliance to improvize its response to a Turkish invasion of the Greek islands. No real precedent exists. The closest analogy is the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974. In this instance, NATO was helmed by leaders with clear priorities and strategic concepts which governed their actions—namely, holding NATO’s southern flank together and preventing Soviet penetration of the Eastern Mediterranean. Neither quality is present in NATO’s current leadership, as evidenced by the West’s essentially ad hoc reaction to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, in which no political objective has been set forth in spite of substantial efforts to tip the balance of forces in Ukraine’s direction. In the event of a conflict between two member states, NATO’s reaction is more likely to be paralysis than decisive action. 

The inherent ambiguity of the situation is unlikely to quell what will likely be intense international pressure to bring Turkey to heel, not only from within the alliance, but from the European Union as well. European leaders have maneuvered themselves into a position where they are bound to oppose aggression as a matter of principle irrespective of the context in which it occurs. 

Regardless of what NATO might do in reaction to a Turkish offensive, Ankara’s relationship with the alliance is bound to become more estranged, leaving Ankara with few good options. Turkey could potentially even leave the NATO alliance of its own volition, especially if Ankara finds American and European sanctions to be unbearable. Such an eventuality is unlikely, however, as there is no clear incentive for Turkey to make a demonstrative display of its departure from NATO, unless domestic politics demand it. Additionally, Turkey could withdraw from NATO’s command structure, similar to Charles de Gaulle’s symbolic display of defiance in the 1960s. The lack of any formal mechanism for the expulsion of a NATO member and the fact that “leaving” NATO’s command structure is more symbolic than tangible means that a more probable outcome would be Turkey retaining its official position while doing what it pleases, which is hardly a drastic change from its current posture. Turkey’s relationship with NATO is thus more likely to face slow erosion than a clean break. 

The most concerning implication of any diplomatic confrontation between NATO and Turkey is the threat of a deepening bilateral relationship between Ankara and Moscow effectively driving a wedge within NATO’s southern flank, essentially vitiating the purpose of Turkey’s presence in the alliance. Among the permutations such a new relationship could take is the increased sale of Russian weapons to Turkey, including the S-400 missile batteries that have been the source of so much consternation from Washington and Brussels. Ankara has slowly drifted toward Moscow under Erdoğan’s leadership, and the two countries already have close economic and investment ties. Hundreds of thousands of Russian citizens and businesses have invested in Turkey. Indeed, Antalya on Turkey’s southern coast is referred to as “Moscow on the Med.” Caleb Larson has previously covered the dangers posed by Moscow’s increasing presence in the Eastern Mediterranean. It is this that has the greatest geopolitical implications for the regional balance of power, and which American foreign policy in the region for the last seventy years has been designed to prevent. 

These trends are in part a reflection of Europe’s—and by extension NATO’s—receding coherence as a strategic entity, which the galvanizing impact of the war in Ukraine has partially obscured, but not absolved. Europe’s map is becoming more medieval in its complexion, with regions and subregions forming within NATO. Even the unifying effect of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has proven somewhat conditional, as each member of the alliance appears to be moving at a different pace in rushing to the ramparts of European defense. Turkey, for its part, is beginning to reckon with its newfound geopolitical weight given the recent instability in the Middle East and Caucasus regions and is willing to exploit it at the expense of the alliance to an extent not seen in previous decades. The looming confrontation between Turkey and Greece drives home the need for NATO to regain its bearings and focus on fundamentals. 

A Longer Perspective 

These trends in part reflect the relative decline of American power. Heretofore, the United States has been able to treat NATO as if it were the board of directors of a limited liability company wherein one’s contributions were proportional to one’s influence. Now, ever-greater American arm-twisting is needed to move the alliance in a given direction, while its most powerful members, feeling least in need of the alliance’s protection, feel at liberty to chart their own course when the alliance does not meet their immediate needs. Such is the case with Turkey offering its good offices to broker agreements regarding grain shipments from embattled Ukraine, and even an abortive effort to negotiate an end to the conflict. In other words, the United States can expect more demonstrations of defiance within NATO as its fissures, left latent under the nimbus of two superpowers, become explicit as power relationships across Eurasia begin to shift. 

A Russo-Turkish axis is unlikely to last. They may be tactical allies, but it is difficult to envisage Moscow and Ankara as strategic allies. They are historic foes in the Caucasus, most recently expressed in a massive victory for Turkish arms over Russian ally Armenia in late 2020 (a situation in which Russia was humiliated). A similar pattern was repeated in the early weeks of the Ukrainian conflict. Thus, inherent geopolitical tensions will likely overcome any temporary affinity between the two authoritarian leaders over time. By the same token, Turkey, whatever headaches it may provide American leaders in the region, remains a natural rival of Iran and thus a potential counterweight to Iranian influence in the contest, particularly regarding greater Syria. Even if Turkey is no longer a treaty ally of the United States, this does not mean that the geopolitical basis for their alignment will have simply evaporated.  

A good example is in the nineteenth century, when Britain, a liberal sea power and sympathetic to independence movements throughout the Balkans, nevertheless understood the geopolitical threat posed by Russian expansion at the expense of the decaying Ottoman Empire. Thus, however iniquitous they believed it to be, British leaders concluded that a relatively intact Turkish empire was vital to holding back a Russian drive toward the straits, and ultimately the Middle East. Liberalism was forced to compromise given the geopolitical realities. Britain’s defense of Turkey did not imply any degree of ideological approbation or compatibility of domestic institutions, nor did it require an alliance—the arrangement was pragmatic and conditional. The United States will be obliged to make similar calculations moving forward, wherein Turkey is neither entirely adversarial nor an ally, but something in between.

Brandon Patterson is a national security professional and recent graduate of the University of California, San Diego’s School of Global Policy and Strategy. He is a military analyst with a focus on risk consulting.

Dino Bozonelos, Ph.D. is a lecturer in the Departments of Political Science and Global Studies at California State University, San Marcos, and in the Department of International Business at Kedge Business School. His research interests mainly revolve around global issues, including geopolitics, religion and politics, and comparative political economy.

Image: vaalaa / Shutterstock.com

March 19 will represent the 20th anniversary of the American invasion of Iraq, and already, many complicit in its bloodshed are attempting to rewrite history. From comfortable positions at the American Enterprise Institute, the Hudson Institute, and more, senior Bush administration officials have laundered testimony through mainstream media outlets on how they could not have predicted their project’s failure, or that it was never a failure at all.

For all the attention these efforts to revise the war’s legacy have gotten, they pale in comparison to the precise and concerted effort to mold the perceptions of the American people that occurred before the war. And Iraq War mania can happen again. If we don’t learn from it, a reprise of the febrile atmosphere of 2002–2003 could bring us into crisis with nuclear powers like Russia and China.

A decade of violence set the stage for the invasion. Following the heavy bombardment of Iraqi civilian infrastructure in the 1991 war, American policy toward Iraq in the 1990s focused on aggressive sanctions which immiserated the Iraqi people. Throughout the decade, the threat of American firepower loomed with ongoing combat operations like the no-fly zones and Operation Desert Fox.

Oceans away, the American public soaked in an entertainment-driven narrative through the twenty-four-hour war coverage of the 1991 Gulf War. Playing off this excitement, media baron Rupert Murdoch financed neoconservative Reagan/Bush official Bill Kristol in the creation of The Weekly Standard in 1995. This magazine would provide a loud public voice to the political movement to invade Iraq.

Under Kristol’s leadership, The Weekly Standard would publish cover stories like “Saddam Must Go: A How-To Guide” in 1997 and articles like “Saddam’s Impending Victory” in 1998, all comparing the isolated Iraqi regime to Hitler’s Third Reich. All this well-coordinated political pressure led to the 1998 passage of the Iraq Liberation Act, which declared America’s ultimate intention to overthrow Saddam Hussein.

The catalyst for the invasion was the September 2001 terrorist attack. While George W. Bush was officially focused on combating Al Qaeda directly through the Global War on Terror and subsequent toppling of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan, by September 14, just three days after the attack, Bush was rumored to have spoken about “hitting” Iraq. The facts did not support a connection between the 9/11 terrorist attack and Iraq. Nevertheless, with its monopoly on sensitive military intelligence, the federal government worked relentlessly to manufacture new facts.

Under Secretary of Defense for Policy Douglas Feith’s Office of Special Plans dealt in an effort to collect and circulate intelligence purporting to link Saddam to Al Qaeda, earning him the title of “Architect of the Iraq War.” The administration tasked the TV darling of the Gulf War, Secretary of State Colin Powell, with advocating for an invasion at the United Nations. Mainstream media outlets relished this straightforward path to war in the wake of 9/11.

Neoconservative Max Boot wrote an article in The Weekly Standard called “The Case for American Empire,” in which he compared the American interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan to the Allied triumph over Nazi Germany. Reporting from The New York Times leaned heavily on the inaccurate testimony of Iraqi exiles who strongly supported regime change. The Washington Post editorial board penned a piece entitled “Irrefutable,” referring to the administration’s claims of an Iraq-Al-Qaeda axis and Iraqi weapons of mass destruction (WMDs). Former Bush speechwriter David Frum branded right-wing opponents of the war “Unpatriotic Conservatives” in a feature for National Review. All opposition to the war was systemically marginalized.

With print media covered, “talking heads” populated the airwaves in pushing for, and later defending, the invasion of Iraq. Founding fathers of the Iraq effort like Kristol and Stephen F. Hayes appeared frequently on channels like Fox News, CNN, MSNBC, and C-SPAN. Neoconservative pundits and Bush administration officials were even sought by MTV.

Powerful Democrats and center-left public intellectuals also share complicity in the push to war. Left-wing media institutions like The New Republic backed the invasion. Ahmed Chalabi ally Entifadh Qanbar appeared on both NPR and Oprah. Then Senate Foreign Relations Committee Chair Joe Biden ignored concerns from fellow Democrats about the war. MSNBC host Phil Donahue was fired over concerns over his resistance to the war, as the network prepared for “24/7 war coverage.” Powerful figures did not merely endorse being pro-war—they mandated it.

Contemporary media continues to credential the Iraq War’s loudest cheerleaders as respected voices in U.S. foreign policy, and they employ many of the same suggestions that failed so clearly two decades earlier. Anne Applebaum brands anything short of regime change in nuclear power Russia “appeasement.” Those who led us into conflict in 2003 over nonexistent WMDs now lecture a more cautious public that if they fear nuclear war with Russia, they are apologists for Vladimir Putin.

Perhaps the most dangerous opinion-shaping regards China. Prominent public intellectuals and elected officials are attempting to define a war with China over Taiwan as an inevitability and an obligation. But more Americans are projected to die per day in the first three weeks of a Taiwan conflict than in any prior conflict save World War II. That figure is even optimistic given that it assumes the war won’t go nuclear. Such grim prospects demand a more sober debate than we had before Iraq.

And twenty years after Biden’s role in the Iraq mythology, his team has presented its own “axis of evil”—an existential struggle between democracies and autocracies. While many have addressed the hypocrisy in this, given our reliance on autocracies like Saudi Arabia, the dangerous reality is that these overheated narratives can make democracies behave like autocracies: stifling the open debate that helps democracies avoid disaster.

While autocracies kill or jail dissenting voices, democracies can quietly humiliate and marginalize the opposition, intimidating them into silence and creating a false sense of consensus. The resulting war fever can be widespread—some 76 percent of Americans backed the Iraq invasion. But when the fever broke and the delirium faded, we found ourselves standing in Iraq’s wreckage with no clear way forward. Two decades later, we’re still picking up the pieces.

As a new generation rises, one with no memory of the race to war in Iraq, we must not forget the madness that preceded this terrible blunder. It happened before, and it can happen again.

Patrick Fox is a Program Assistant at the John Quincy Adams Society and the Assistant Editor for Realist Review.

A.J. Manuzzi is a Program Assistant at the John Quincy Adams Society.

Image: U.S. Army Flickr.

The escalating superpower competition between the United States and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) has gone from a trade dispute to a rivalry over the future of world order, technology, and values. Despite both sides being open to dialogue, President Joe Biden has made it clear that the United States will continue to compete vigorously with the PRC, aligning efforts with allies and partners around the world, and creating coalitions with like-minded countries on tech, intelligence, and strategy to counter Beijing.

Many poor countries in the Global South do not want to be caught in the middle of this competition; they want to improve their livelihood and develop their economies. China offers an easy solution via its now infamous “debt trap diplomacy,” where it provides massive loans without pre-conditions on issues of democracy or human rights, unlike the United States. Such loans enable China to influence these countries.

To counteract this, the United States established several coalitions with its partners, such as the AUKUS and the Quad. Creating these coalitions did not go smoothly, and it would be even more challenging to do similar with countries in the Global South. Nevertheless, Washington needs to adjust its strategy to expand its coalitions further. Bangladesh, a natural partner in the Indo-Pacific region, could be an excellent starting point.

Why Bangladesh?

Bangladesh has made remarkable economic progress in recent years, embracing various liberal economic policies under the guidance and support of Western financial institutions such as the Asian Development Bank and the IMF. Bangladesh did take loans from China, but these only account for 8 percent of its foreign debt—unlike its neighbors Sri Lanka and Pakistan, which took on far more. Moreoever, Japan, a strategic U.S. partner, is the leading contributor of aid to Bangladesh.

Politically, Bangladesh has a special relationship with India. Despite efforts made by Sheikh Hasina’s government to normalize relations with Pakistan, Indian-Bangladeshi relations remain solid, which the United States can leverage to keep China at bay. As a Muslim-majority country, Bangladesh can project its principle of “friendship to all, malice to none” not only within the Indo-Pacific but also to the Middle East, creating a bridge between Asia and the Middle East.

Although Bangladesh aims to remain geopolitically neutral, it is very much involved in global politics—though not always by choice. Following the Rohingya crisis in neighboring Myanmar, Bangladesh opened its borders and gave shelter to around one million refugees, who are still living in camps dependent on international aid, almost six years after fleeing their homes. In addition, Bangladesh has participated in peacekeeping operations all over the world, being the leading contributor to peacekeeping officers with more than 7,000 personnel.

But can the United States really bring Bangladesh to engage more with its camp?

There are indicators that such may be possible. For instance, in the past, Washington’s close relations with Pakistan had a cooling effect on Bangladesh. However, with America’s withdrawal from Afghanistan, its warming relations with India, and its increasing focus on countering China, the conditions are set for a better alignment between American interests and those of Bangladesh.

Moreover, in the last two months, Bangladesh has experienced firsthand what new the superpower competition looks like. In January, Bangladesh hosted two delegations from China, one led by Chinese foreign minister Qin Gang and another high-level delegation led by a senior Chinese official. This Chinese charm offensive was immediately answered by the United States: in January, the U.S. Assistant Secretary of State, Donald Lu, visited Bangladesh, and in February, an official delegation led by Derek Chollet, held discussions with Hasina on the Rohingya and the Indo-Pacific, among other topics.

But if the United States wants to establish an advantage over China, then a game-changer move is needed. There is an open invitation for Biden to visit Bangladesh, made by Hasina at the last UN General Assembly. President Biden should accept the invitation. Such a visit could not only help provide assurances for protecting democracy and progress in Bangladesh, but could also help position Bangladesh as a valuable partner in the Indo-Pacific region.

Joseph Rozen, the Managing Director of Solaris Global Partners, is a leading expert in international relations, Asian affairs, and National Security. In his prior capacity, he was the director for Asia & Euro-Asia affairs in the Israeli National Security Council. Rozen was a driving force behind the Israeli Foreign Investments screening mechanism and the development of Israel’s bilateral relations with Asian powers.

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Tunisia is entering a difficult moment. Following the arrest in late January of a labor union official for organizing a strike by tollbooth operators, the government launched a relentless string of arrests against political opponents. The president accused the arrested individuals of “conspiring” against state security and/or labeled them as “terrorists” without in most cases presenting sufficient evidence for the charges.

This has given momentum to a protest movement organized by the trade union, known by its French acronym the UGTT (l’Union Générale des Travailleurs Tunisiens). On March 4, the UGTT reportedly mobilized the largest number of people in any protests against Tunisian president Kais Saied since he took office, with similarly large protests being organized by a coalition of political parties, the National Salvation Front.

There are four imaginable scenarios for how this crisis would be resolved.

First, Saied could voluntarily step down in the face of rising opposition. This scenario is highly unlikely at this stage. In other cases of authoritarian leaders resigning under popular pressure, such as Hosni Mubarak in Egypt (2011) or Abdelaziz Bouteflika in Algeria (2019), important stakeholders upon whose backing these dictators relied influenced their decisions. For instance, Mubarak was urged to resign by the military (and the United States); Bouteflika by the country’s powerful ruling clans. 

In contrast, and particularly since his consolidation of control over the country’s institutions began in July 2021, Saied has appeared increasingly isolated and uninfluencable. Assuming he acts consistently with his prior behavior, he will only continue to deflect blame, regardless of any voices trying to get in his ear or conditions on the street.

Second, and in line with Tunisian tradition, is that Saied could agree to a National Dialogue, as the UGTT is demanding. Most famously, in 2013, following two political assassinations and under deteriorating security and economic conditions, Tunisian civil society—led by the UGTT—organized a National Dialogue for divided political parties to overcome their differences in drafting a new constitution. Through this mechanism, the party in charge of the then-coalition government, the moderate Islamist Ennahdha party, agreed to hand over power to a caretaker government charged with leading the country to new elections.

Unfortunately, there are several reasons to doubt that a similar scenario could unfold today. The context in 2013 was unique: the country was still gripped by revolutionary fervor following the ousting of former president Ben Ali, and there was significant popular demand to stabilize security conditions—for which Ennahdha was largely being blamed. Additionally, the takeover by General Abdelfatah Sisi of the elected Muslim Brotherhood government in Egypt that same summer weighed heavily on the minds of Ennahdha leadership, which did not want to suffer the same fate.

Moreover, there was a clear objective around which to organize the dialogue: the finalizing of a new constitution, whose drafting process was launched based on consensus forged through popular mobilization. It is unclear what kind of broadly-agreed roadmap a new dialogue could hash out under current conditions. Agreeing on a new or revised constitution, or holding new legislative elections, wouldn’t make sense given that these were the culmination of Saied’s own unilateral roadmap declared in December 2021, which lacked popular legitimacy despite the fact that Saied still appears to retain a somewhat significant support base. 

Third, a military takeover is possible. This would be a clear departure from tradition in Tunisia, whose first post-independence president, Habib Bourguiba, deliberately cultivated a small and apolitical military. In 2011, the military secured its place as a beloved institution when it reportedly refused to fire on protestors, causing Ben Ali to flee. Since then, the armed forces have continued to enjoy a favorable reputation while also playing a key role in re-establishing security following a rise in terrorist activity between 2011 and 2015.

Under Saied, the military has expanded its prestige as well as its role in politics. The president, who was elected as an outsider without a clear support base, has always needed it as an ally. In July 2021, when tanks and troops blocked MPs from entering the parliament building following Saied’s dissolution of the body, observers grew concerned that the military was abandoning its traditionally apolitical role. All this makes it extremely murky how the military would respond in a situation of heightened unrest.

In the eventuality of a military coup, it is also unclear how those taking charge would proceed. The armed forces would almost certainly want to hand over power to a new civilian government as quickly as possible, but finding a neutral, caretaker government would be difficult given the highly fractured landscape. Even in 2013, when an effective caretaker government under the leadership of technocrat Mehdi Jomaa was established, the selection process was fraught. In the event that the military steps in to prevent violence from spiraling out of control, it is unlikely to be prepared to play such a role. 

Fourth is a prolonged stalemate in which arrests and protests eventually die down and Saied remains in power. This is the most likely possibility, especially given that the outbreak of widespread violence, at least at this point, does not appear imminent. Unfortunately, under this scenario, given that Saied has failed to deliver any meaningful change and will be increasingly concerned with safeguarding his own power, socioeconomic and political conditions will continue to fester and decline.

Given these prospects, Washington must be ready to support Tunisia economically, especially if other lenders don’t come through. It should leverage this economic support to push the president to be more inclusive and widen the base of consensus. A National Dialogue that produces immediate results offers the most hope for calming the protests and allowing longer-term plans to be put in place.

Tunisia’s current crisis only represents the tip of the iceberg, as the entire North Africa/Sahel region slips rapidly into a state of profound instability. The United States should work with European partners to develop a wider regional plan of political reconciliation, human rights enforcement, economic cooperation, and socio-economic development.

Dr. Karim Mezran is the director of the North Africa Initiative at the Atlantic Council.

Sabina Henneberg is the Soref Fellow at The Washington Institute for Near East Policy, where she focuses on North Africa. Sabina was formerly a Senior Analyst at Libya-Analysis LLC.

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As the stalemate in electing a president for Lebanon drags on, tensions continue to simmer across the political spectrum, with clear indications of rising geopolitical concerns. These concerns have brought to the fore the rivalry and complex relationship between the Shiite militant Hezbollah and the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF). The LAF’s commander, Joseph Aoun, appears to be among the most prominent candidates now in the presidential race, if not the lead candidate. 

Several days ago, Lebanese journalist Hassan Olleik, known to be very close to Hezbollah, released a podcast episode in which he directed a very strong rebuking message and harsh words towards Aoun. Olleik criticized the LAF’s participation in the ongoing International Maritime Exercise led by the U.S. Naval Forces Central Command, in which Israel is also a participant. This is highly emblematic of the rising tensions between Hezbollah and Aoun and the preeminence of security issues in Lebanese politics.

The strong criticism by Olleik could be a direct message from Hezbollah to Aoun. Olleik claimed that he sent a request to the LAF for comment on the matter, and the army replied that it is only participating in the event as an observer. Olleik believes this was a dubious answer aimed at fooling the Lebanese people. Ultimately, Olleik framed the LAF’s participation in the maritime exercise as a “very dangerous matter,” and further characterized it as an exclusive appeal by Aoun to U.S. demands and pressure that aim to achieve the normalization of relations between most of the Arab world and Israel.

More seriously, on security tensions, almost two weeks prior to Olleik’s podcast comments, Hezbollah secretary general Hassan Nasrallah threatened the United States in a televised speech on February 14 commemorating the group’s fallen leaders. Nasrallah warned that Hezbollah will respond with the use of its weapons if the Americans seek to create chaos that will push Lebanon into collapse, including going to war with Israel and creating chaos in the entire region. In a prior speech, Nasrallah called for the election of a president in Lebanon “who does not submit to American threats.”

The presidential election crisis in Lebanon has multiple underlying issues, including political divisions, sectarianism, and economic collapse. However, security concerns remain the most pressing, given Lebanon’s complex domestic politics, which are entangled with regional and geopolitical struggles in a volatile Middle East. Most notably, these struggles involve Iran and its proxies, including Hezbollah, on one side, and Saudi Arabia backed by traditional Western allies, including the United States, on the other side. Geopolitics continues to be of paramount importance in the Middle East, especially in light of the evolving global order, which has direct implications for the region.

As Nabeel Khoury writes at the Arab Center Washington DC, the upcoming Lebanese presidential election is primarily being played out against the backdrop of bloc politics. The March 8 Alliance, which is aligned with Syria and Iran, and the pro-Western March 14 Alliance, backed by Saudi Arabia, have been in opposition since the assassination of former prime minister of Lebanon Rafik Hariri in 2005, and the subsequent withdrawal of the Syrian army from Lebanon. While these alliances are not as cohesive as they once were, the March 8 Alliance consists of the two leading parties, Hezbollah, and the Christian Free Patriotic Movement, while the March 14 Alliance comprises Sunni Muslim and Maronite Christian parties. Although a dozen independent MPs won seats in Lebanon’s parliament in the May 2022 parliamentary elections, they largely alternate between the two alliances on major issues.

Since the withdrawal of Syrian military forces from Lebanon, the United States has become the primary partner of the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF). According to the U.S. Department of State, the United States has provided over $3 billion in security assistance to the LAF since 2006, with the vast majority of the aid coming in the form of critical training and equipment. A factsheet issued by the U.S. State Department’s Bureau of Political-Military Affairs states that the U.S. security assistance to the LAF is “a key component of US Lebanon policy to strengthen Lebanon’s sovereignty, secure its borders, counter internal threats, and disrupt terrorist facilitation.” The factsheet emphasizes the importance of LAF sovereignty and states that the LAF is “the sole legitimate defender of Lebanon’s sovereignty,” particularly in relation to the presence of Hezbollah as a military threat.

The situation regarding security arrangements in post-civil war Lebanon is paradoxical, as a result of military dualism involving the cohabitation of the LAF and Hezbollah. Although all Lebanese militias that participated in the civil war were disarmed under the Ta’if Agreement that put an end to the Lebanese civil war, Hezbollah was successfully legitimized in the name of “national resistance” against Israeli occupation and later against any future Israeli aggression with the regional backing of Iran and Syria.

The relationship between the LAF and Hezbollah is complex and multifaceted, encompassing military, security, and political aspects. Although both sides have coordinated on security matters since the end of the civil war in 1990, there has been competition between the two military institutions in developing their military power and autonomy.

While there have been a few military incidents between the LAF and Hezbollah that have exhibited friction since the end of the civil war, most recently, the LAF’s handling of the 2019 October 17 protests that erupted throughout Lebanon’s streets against the country’s political establishment including against Hezbollah and its allies, and the army’s role in preventing the advance of Hezbollah- and Amal party-affiliated armed men in Christian Tayoune area in central Beirut during protests that took place in October 2021 and were organized by Hezbollah and Amal to demand the removal of judge Tarek Bitar from the investigation into the August 4, 2020 Beirut port explosion—during which several armed men were killed—have, according to many commentators, heightened tensions between the two rivals.

The likelihood of this rivalry persisting and escalating to undermine the existing military status quo in the future will depend on several factors, most notably the geopolitical competition between regional rival states and the great powers in the Middle East region. However, this is unlikely in the short term, given that sectarianism infiltrates the Lebanese army ranks, and any serious confrontation between Hezbollah and the LAF could lead to divisions within the LAF. Additionally, Hezbollah is reported to maintain a weapons arsenal that outweighs that of the LAF.

In addition, the LAF is currently facing critical financial challenges as part of Lebanon’s severe economic crisis that began in 2019. The World Bank has described Lebanon’s current economic crisis as one of the worst since the 1850s, with three-quarters of the population living in poverty. This has led to the deterioration of Lebanon’s key institutions, including the impoverishment of the Lebanese army and police forces, who are not even able to fund basic operations and fulfill key security functions.

Most recently, in January 2023, the US allocated $72 million to Lebanon to supplement the wages of the LAF and the Lebanese Internal Security Forces for a period of six months, amid the worsening economic situation with the drastic devaluation of the Lebanese pound that has diminished the value of officers’ and soldiers’ wages. According to the U.S. State Department, the United States provided $236 million in military grant assistance to the LAF in the fiscal year 2021.

While there has been previous momentum building in Washington to end U.S. assistance to the LAF, with some conservative House Republicans arguing that U.S. material assistance to the LAF could be diverted to Hezbollah, several politicians and commentators have advocated for continued U.S. support of the LAF. They argue that funding and bolstering the LAF will help build a strong military in Lebanon as an institutional counterweight to Hezbollah. Some have noted that long-term aid has turned the LAF into a competent military force with recently proven battle victories.

For instance, commentators, including Nicholas Blanford at the Atlantic Council, cited the LAF’s recent successes in conducting counterterrorism operations and respective wins against jihadist groups thanks to military aid from the United States. These include the battle of Arsal in August 2014 against the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) and the al-Qaeda affiliate Jabhat an-Nusrah (JN), and the Qalamoun campaign from July to August 2017 against ISIL and JN’s successor, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham.

So far, despite Hezbollah's antagonistic stance against U.S. interests in Lebanon and the region, the group has not interfered with the United States’ support of the LAF, nor made any attempts to stall cooperation. Hezbollah is cognizant of the particular confessional structure of Lebanese society and the entrenched Shia constituency in the army. As a result, any serious confrontation with the LAF is seen as only a remote possibility. Lebanese realpolitik has dictated that no confrontation occurs on either side. The historical precedence of the Lebanese sectarian civil war, which lasted over fifteen years with its dreadful consequences of warring sectarian parties controlling their own areas, is a real lesson. Perhaps, Hezbollah is also aware of the very implausibility of establishing military rule in Lebanon, given its very sectarian nature, where sectarian parties and elites hold sway over society.

Broadly speaking, Hezbollah has consistently praised its security coordination with the LAF as part of the larger goal of defending Lebanon. Although Olleik criticized the LAF’s participation in a maritime exercise, he claimed that the decision was made unilaterally by Aoun, not the LAF. The LAF is a widely popular institution, inclusive of members of all Lebanese sects, that has emerged as an institution of national unity after the Lebanese civil war and subsequent mass defections of officers and soldiers to confessional militias. Lebanon has elected four presidents who were LAF commanders based on the ideals of patriotism and national unity associated with their organization. However, given the recent U.S.-sponsored Abraham Accords and growing normalization of relations with Israel in the region, as well as the collapse of negotiations to revive the 2015 Iran nuclear deal, any new power-sharing arrangement including electing a pro-U.S. army commander as president that undermines Hezbollah’s interests or demand its disarmament is unlikely. Hezbollah perceives Aoun as a potential presidential candidate close to the United States who may compromise the current security balance and lead Lebanon on uncertain terms. According to several observers, unless Hezbollah receives guarantees that Aoun will not interfere in its affairs, it will not nominate or elect him.

Rany Ballout is a New York-based political risk and due diligence analyst with extensive experience in the Middle East. He holds a master's degree in International Studies from the University of Montreal in Canada and a bachelor's degree in Linguistics from Uppsala University in Sweden.

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Public and especially political attention to the origins of the Covid-19 pandemic has not abated and recently increased. A House subcommittee held a hearing on the subject last week, and Republican senators have called on Director of National Intelligence Avril Haines to provide raw materials that underlay the intelligence community’s assessments on the subject.

The community has had insufficient information to reach even a moderately firm judgment about how and where the virus first infected humans. A plurality of member agencies has leaned toward the hypothesis that the pandemic, like many other viral diseases, began with a natural transmission from animals to humans. A minority of agencies have leaned toward the alternative hypothesis involving a leak from a virology laboratory in Wuhan, China. Other agencies have remained thoroughly agnostic and declined to lean either way. No agencies have offered judgments on this question with high confidence, and all agencies agree that both hypotheses are plausible and that China’s lack of cooperation in sharing information has impeded efforts to resolve the question of Covid’s origin.

Recent reports of thinking within the Department of Energy and the FBI have encouraged those favoring the lab leak hypothesis. But the question remains open, among government agencies as well as outside experts.

Before anyone—in politics, the scientific community, or elsewhere—devotes much more time to dwelling on this question, it is advisable to consider how much difference resolving the question would or would not make. Despite the immense worldwide economic and other consequences of the Covid-19 pandemic, knowing exactly how the pandemic began makes less difference than the amount of attention devoted to this topic might suggest. It is hard to see how a definitive judgment on that question now would be of any help in further dealing with Covid-19 itself. Potentially there would be some beneficial lessons relevant to warding off or preparing for future pandemics—lessons on, say, how to get early warning of animal transmission or the importance of laboratory security. But this is unlikely to involve new knowledge, beyond what experts on infectious diseases could have told us before Covid-19.

The origin question potentially has implications regarding official Chinese behavior, but the most worrisome scenarios have already been ruled out, even by responsible proponents of the lab leak theory. It is implausible that Chinese leaders would have intentionally unleashed a disease that has wreaked tremendous damage on their own people and economy. Moreover, the scientific consensus about the nature of the Covid-19 virus is that it was not manmade, and not genetically engineered as a biological weapon or for other purposes. Thus, the remaining question about the Chinese is only whether they were sufficiently careful about security at a lab in Wuhan that was conducting research on viruses.

The origin of Covid-19 is very much a technical question, but American politicians have seized it and turned it into a political question. Most of the seizure is by Republicans, including such outspoken partisans as Representative Jim Jordan of Ohio and Senator Tom Cotton of Arkansas. This is partly tough-on-China posturing, although Democrats, as well as Republicans, are trying to sound tough on China, in ways that are unhelpful in constructing sound policy.

Another probable motivation for the politicization is to get at Anthony Fauci, whom many Republicans never have forgiven for talking sense that contradicted then-President Donald Trump’s nonsense about Covid, and who has said that the preponderance of evidence favors the natural transmission hypothesis although he is keeping an open mind about the origins of the pandemic. Still, other Republican motivations involve making life difficult for a Democratic administration under whom the noncommittal intelligence assessments have been prepared, as well as making life difficult for the intelligence community itself, part of the supposedly nefarious “deep state” about which Jordan, Trump, and others have fulminated and never have forgiven for speaking other embarrassing truths during Trump’s presidency.

The origin of Covid-19 is hardly the only technical question that has gotten politicized. It can happen with the narrowest and most mundane question. The issue before a House committee in a hearing fifteen years ago was whether baseball star Roger Clemens had used performance-enhancing drugs. Clemens denied that he had. His former personal trainer, Brian McNamee, said that he had injected Clemens with steroids. Facing contradictory testimonies, the factual question before the committee was whether one man had stuck a needle into another man’s buttocks—a seemingly nonpolitical question. But the patterns of belief among committee members followed party lines. Democrats sided with McNamee, the little guy, while Republicans favored Clemens, the wealthy professional athlete. A further probable influence on Republican thinking was that the main report on steroid use in professional baseball—a report that fingered Clemens, among others—had been prepared by a Democrat, former Senator George Mitchell.

An example far more consequential for national policy was the issue of weapons of mass destruction (WMD) as part of the George W. Bush administration’s case for invading Iraq in 2003. Much of the WMD question was highly technical, involving matters such as the tolerance levels of aluminum tubes and whether they were suitable for use in centrifuges for enriching uranium. But politicians determined to launch the war—and to use the WMD issue not as a technical question to be carefully explored but instead as one more talking point in their campaign to sell the war—took over the issue. Vice President Richard Cheney declared, in a speech delivered before the intelligence community had even begun work on an estimate on the subject that Congress had requested—that “there is no doubt” that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction.

When technical questions get politicized, three harms follow.

First, the policy significance, if any, of the answer to the technical question gets badly distorted. The public as well as politicians come to believe that important policy choices hinge on that answer, even when they should not. The enormous attention devoted to the WMD question at the time of the Iraq War obscured how, even if false beliefs about Saddam Hussein’s unconventional weapons had turned out to be true, the war still would have been a huge blunder. All the mess that followed the invasion—including the insurgencies, the economic dislocation, the birthing of terrorist groups, the regional destabilization, and the American casualties—still would have ensued. And if U.S. forces had faced such unconventional weapons when they invaded, the costs and casualties would have been even higher.

Similarly, U.S. policy toward China should involve careful consideration of many important political, economic, and military matters that are far more significant than security measures at a single Chinese laboratory. There might be good reasons to be tough on China these days, but sloppiness at a lab is not one of them, regardless of how consequential possible past sloppiness might have turned out to be in the case of Covid.

Second, because politicians and the public are simply not qualified to assess many technical questions, for politicians to inject themselves into such assessments will inevitably produce many wrong answers. The public will be fed misperceptions, including ones that are less easily dismissed than Trump’s suggestions about ingesting bleach as a remedy for Covid.

Texas Republican Michael McCaul, chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, recently stated that the Biden administration should conclude “what common sense told us at the start—the COVID-19 pandemic originated from a lab leak in Wuhan, China.” It is incomprehensible how the question about Covid’s origins—which is far outside the experience of ordinary Americans and which has tested even the expertise of highly trained virologists and epidemiologists—can be viewed as a matter of “common sense.”

Third, politicization of such issues can corrupt, subtly and even at an unconscious level, the judgments of the experts themselves, especially those in government bureaucracies who ultimately are answerable to political leaders. When the available evidence is fragmentary and uncertain, it does not take much of such back-of-the-mind considerations to influence judgments. The strong preference by leaders of the George W. Bush administration for the analysis of Iraq to come out in a way that would aid the pro-war campaign probably affected the analysis of Iraqi weapons programs in this way. There is no comparable policy imperative in the current administration regarding either China or Covid, and so it is not clear in what direction any political influence would operate on the question of Covid’s origins. But any such influence reduces the chance of getting the correct answer to the technical question at hand.

Paul Pillar retired in 2005 from a twenty-eight-year career in the U.S. intelligence community, in which his last position was National Intelligence Officer for the Near East and South Asia. Earlier he served in a variety of analytical and managerial positions, including as chief of analytic units at the CIA covering portions of the Near East, the Persian Gulf, and South Asia. Professor Pillar also served in the National Intelligence Council as one of the original members of its Analytic Group. He is also a Contributing Editor for this publication.

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The Russian invasion of Ukraine initially seemed to galvanize the United States’ NATO allies and encourage them to take a more energetic role in Europe’s defense. But some analysts have recently noted that the war actually seems to have had the contrary effect of increasing Europe’s dependence on Washington. This should not be a surprise to anyone, since Europe’s dependence will inevitably increase in proportion to the United States’ own commitment to the continent’s security.

While French president Emmanuel Macron has championed strategic autonomy in recent years, and German chancellor Olaf Scholz announced a historic “Zeitenwende” in defense policy in response to the Russian invasion, both countries have proceeded cautiously over the course of the war. Germany only grudgingly sent Leopard 2 tanks to Ukraine following parallel moves by the United States and the UK, while Macron has insisted that a post-war resolution must include a recognition of Russian security concerns.

This has increasingly frustrated Eastern European allies like Poland and the Baltic States, whose hard line on Russia has put them at odds with what they perceive as their Western counterparts’ ambivalence, making them all the more eager to maintain the U.S. presence in Europe.

But the more restrained attitude of France and Germany towards Russia is not based on spinelessness or frugality. Instead, due to geography, relative power, and history, Western and Eastern Europeans have profoundly different threat perceptions of Russia.

This would normally suggest that the two halves of Europe do not in fact make natural treaty allies. Historically, Eastern Europe suffered the misfortune of being a buffer zone between Western Europe and Russia—a role to which Eastern Europeans, all too understandably, do not want to return.

This fundamental asymmetry was introduced into the alliance by enlarging NATO to include Eastern European states from the 1990s onwards—a faultline papered over by the continuing leadership of the United States, but which reduces any incentive for Western Europeans to “step up” the way Washington (officially) wants them to.

The reflexive argument among many Western commentators is to blame France and Germany for not backing Ukraine more aggressively, reducing their credibility in the eyes of Eastern Europe, and compelling the latter to lean even more heavily on Washington to allay their security fears. According to these arguments, Western Europe should instead put itself on a serious war footing and help lead the charge against Russia.

But there are a couple of reasons to view such assertions skeptically. In the first place, the Russian military’s performance makes France and Germany’s response seem relatively proportionate. Russia has been struggling for months to conquer the small regional city of Bakhmut; it is not marching on Warsaw anytime soon. Moreover, while Eastern Europeans would probably like nothing more than for Russian fields to be sowed with salt, France and Germany recognize that Russia will likely always be a power in the region, and that peaceful coexistence requires some sort of reasonable mutual accommodation.

Secondly, the United States shouldn’t expect the over-the-top measures it relies on to prop up the credibility of extended deterrence to be mimicked by Europe should the latter transition towards strategic autonomy and deterring Russia directly. Nor should the Eastern Europeans.

Finally, and more to the point, one would think when listening to American officials and analysts who lament Europe’s security dependence that these folks want the United States out of Europe as quickly as possible. And yet the opposite is the case; most of these same voices are deeply dedicated to America remaining permanently committed to NATO.

According to conventional arguments for greater “burden-sharing” among the allies, the best way for the United States to encourage its capable allies to do more for their own defense is to redouble our own efforts on their behalf and fall over ourselves to insist upon our commitments to them. The causal logic here has never been explained, but it seems self-evidently contradictory: if we do more, we incentivize our allies to do less.

The alternative view is that the best way to encourage the rich and capable countries of Western Europe to assume greater responsibility in a European alliance is to slowly, but steadily and openly, reduce our own contribution to the continent’s security. This would not be greater “burden-sharing,” but rather “burden-shifting.”

If European security is truly the goal, we should expect capable states like France and Germany to act like any other state without a guarantor: to develop the independent capabilities they deem necessary for their own threat environment, and to manage their own alliances. Poland and the Baltic states prefer an American guarantee, but they’ll likely still be able to sleep well at night with a guarantee from their more powerful and nuclear-armed Western neighbors.

If we’re being frank, however, the contradiction at the heart of calls for more “burden-sharing” is probably recognized by those devoted to the permanence of the transatlantic alliance, and this incoherence is precisely its utility. Virtually no one in the American foreign policy establishment actually wants to give up the United States’ seat at the head of the table in NATO, which places Europe within America’s sphere of influence. And for some time, therefore, NATO’s existence, to quote the historian Richard Sakwa, will continue to be “justified by the need to manage the security threats provoked by its [own] enlargement.

Christopher McCallion is a Non-Resident Fellow at Defense Priorities.

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To a few onlookers’ surprise, last month’s G20 summit in India ended without an agreement on Ukraine. India’s tough non-alignment policy sees it continuing to walk a thin line when it comes to the NATO-Russia hostilities over the latter’s invasion of its neighbor last year. However, India’s G20 presidency presents NATO and the United States in particular with an opportunity to strengthen its ties with New Delhi.

While the G20 presidency might sound like yet another fluffy bureaucratic accolade to outsiders, it is a position with some significant bite. It is the largest multilateral platform in operation, with its member states representing more than 85 percent of world GDP and two-thirds of the human population. While its ability to influence security decisionmaking is lackluster, as the Ukraine debate exemplifies, it has long held a key role in managing talks over future international economic growth.

India is the world's seventh-largest economy, and unlike China, it is forecast to continue to expand into the near future. India is fast overtaking China in terms of population and will likely become the world’s third-largest economy and the “pharmacy of the world” before the end of the decade. 

Moreover, its ascendancy to the G20 presidency at the start of 2023 has come at a crucial time for the country and the world as it continues to reel from the financial impact of the coronavirus response, itself a knock-on effect of Beijing’s malfeasance.

Insiders have suggested that India will attempt to forge an expert group to tackle World Bank reforms in order to provide climate aid to developing economies. While the details of such plans are unconfirmed, they may be a promising step toward countering the exploitative debt diplomacy of China’s sprawling Belt and Road Initiative. India has already gone some way toward positioning itself as a voice for the Global South, while China continues to block solutions to the debt crisis crippling the developing world.

India is also keen to launch a Sustainable Development Goals stimulus package to provide low and middle-income governments with a fresh injection of investment support alongside offering debt relief and restructuring. New Delhi’s plans to use its G20 presidency to promote renewable energy and action on climate is also promising.

The G20 includes several Asian countries, and India’s presidency will of course provide a platform for regional cooperation and collaboration with U.S.-aligned states such as Japan and South Korea. But while there is constant establishment fanfare over established alliances in East Asia, the reality is that the opportunity of such states pales in comparison to what India can offer going forward. It is time the United States looked toward better building new bridges than simply preserving old ones.

With its recently hiked annual military budget of approximately $72.6 billion dollars and battle-hardened armed forces, India is the only serious contender to China in South and Southeast Asia. Border standoffs in Doklam (2017) and Galwan (2020) are just two recent cases in which China has sought to push its luck as regards India’s sovereignty, but has been forced to back down.

As former Trump administration defense official Elbridge Colby notes, India is the “rock of the anti-hegemonic coalition in S Asia,” and consequently the United States should be doing what it can to strengthen it.

India is the world’s largest democracy, and although its strain of nationalism may be at odds with many Western sensibilities, the foundations for a mutually beneficial relationship are far more plentiful than with China, the state the West has tiptoed into trade reliance on for decades. If Washington is keen on a secure future at home and in Asia, it must treat India’s G20 presidency as a wake-up call.

Georgia Leatherdale-Gilholy is a journalist based in the United Kingdom. She tweets at @llggeorgia.

Image: Shutterstock.

As soon as the South Korean government announced a tentative deal to solve its dispute with Japan over World War II-era forced labor, American officials and foreign policy experts celebrated a new step forward for cooperation between U.S. allies. But not so fast. 

President Joe Biden's quick response to the announcement suggests the United States is trying to lock this agreement in place, showing how Washington views South Korean and Japanese cooperation as critical for its agenda in Northeast Asia. Biden called it a “groundbreaking new chapter of cooperation and partnership between two of the United States’ closest allies” and said he “look[s] forward to continuing to strengthen and enhance the trilateral ties between the Republic of Korea, Japan, and the United States.”

Victor Cha, senior vice president for Asia at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, said on MSNBC that it will help get Seol and Tokyo to cooperate on “everything from their support of Ukraine, defense in the Taiwan Straits, to, of course, North Korea’s unending ballistic missile tests.”

But it may be too early to say if this deal will stand and if South Koreans will accept it. Past attempts to resolve historical debates between South Korea and Japan have floundered. The proposal by the unpopular administration of President Yoon Suk-youl is already facing criticism. The progressive Hankyoreh paper criticized the deal in an editorial, saying it undermined the South Korean Constitution and Supreme Court, which ruled that Mitsubishi Heavy Industries and Nippon Steel should compensate victims of forced labor. The paper raised concerns about the awkward timing, with the announcement coming just a week after the March 1 holiday commemorating South Korean resistance to the Japanese occupation. Opposition Democratic Party leader Lee Jae-Myung has called for the proposal to be withdrawn.

Activist groups and civic organizations compared Yoon’s proposal with the Park Geun-hye administration’s 2015 deal, which was meant to address the controversy over Japan’s use of sex slaves during the war but only resulted in protests outside of Japanese consulates and further poisoned the two countries’ relations.

"Why is the victim country trying so hard to exempt the perpetrator nation from responsibility,” said Lee Na-young, head of the Korean Council.

This gets to the crux of the criticism of the proposal. The foundation compensating the victims would be funded almost entirely—if not wholly—by South Korean entities. The two Japanese companies implicated in the Supreme Court case have stood firm, with the backing of the Japanese government, against paying. Two of the few surviving victims said they did not wish to receive Korean money and demanded Japan acknowledge their suffering.

As of this writing, surveys have yet to be released on the plan's popularity. Many South Koreans have expressed support; they are tired of having their country’s foreign policy constrained by a tragic history that cannot be undone. 

Seok Dong-Hyeon, a lawyer and the secretary general of the Peaceful Unification Advisory Council, wrote on Facebook that the “exhausting controversy and damage” caused by a single ruling by a few judges acting by themselves was “too great.” The Choson Ilbo’s editorial stated the need to cooperate to address the North Korean threat and Chinese hegemony and pointed out that previous Korean Democratic Party presidents like Kim Dae-Jung had welcomed a “new era” of relations with Japan.

Positive relations between South Korea and Japan cannot be maintained in the long run if it is a politicized issue; a new South Korean president in 2027 or 2032 may demand Japan apologize for its history.

Lawyers representing the victims of forced labor say they will persist in bringing lawsuits and attempting to collect compensation from the companies, including through attempts to liquidate Mitsubishi’s and Nippon Steel’s assets in Japan. The Yoon administration could not easily force an independent judiciary to block such a case just because of an agreement it made at the executive level, which will not be ratified in South Korea’s opposition-controlled legislature. If a court does rule against Japan again, then what?

It is clear that this proposal is being championed by Yoon and the United States to further the foreign policy goals of the China hawks within the American and South Korean administrations. But it does not address the needs of the victims who took the case to pursue justice. While it would be impossible to compel a foreign country or its leadership to apologize with sincerity, there are some things Japan could do to make the deal easier for the Korean public to swallow.

At a minimum, Mitsubishi and Nippon Steel should partially fund the settlement. Mitsubishi agreed to compensate over 3,000 Chinese victims of forced labor in 2016. They are still in the process of completing payments to some of the victims even as they refuse to compensate the much smaller group of Korean plaintiffs. Although it is likely some South Koreans would still not be satisfied, at least it would be easier for Yoon to make the case that his administration had extracted some kind of concessions from Japan.

As it is, it seems like South Korea gave in to most of the Japanese demands. South Koreans are getting no compensation as a result of the forced labor case, although Japan and South Korea are both going to be jointly funding a scholarship program for youths. The Japan Business Federation (Keidanren) will pay for part of it. Still, the money isn’t coming from the implicated corporations (except in so much as they are dues-paying members of the Keidanren) and isn’t going to the victims. South Korea will be reinstated to Japan’s trade whitelist, but that is just a return to the status quo.

Japan got South Korea to give up on almost everything with only a token scholarship program, the kind of thing two amicable nations might create in ordinary times just as a show of goodwill.

Yoon views the Korea-Japan-U.S. relationship as critical for their mutual foreign policy interests. He must calculate that there is more for Korea to gain from harmonizing relations than from trying to extract more in negotiations. But why doesn’t Japanese prime minister Fumio Kishida feel the same? Why doesn’t he give in to some of Korea’s demands for the sake of the trilateral relationship?

There can be a debate about which side is most to blame for things deteriorating—and a convincing case can be made that South Korea’s unforgiving attitude may be the primary cause—but there needs to be mutual trust. In order for there to be healthy relations, two countries need to both make contributions and compromises.

Mitchell Blatt is the Founder of the US-Korea Policy Project and a frequent contributor to The National Interest.

Image: Flickr/White House.

Technological innovations have brought tectonic shifts in global geopolitical dynamics over the past decade. A technological competition between the two major powers, China and the United States, is now underway, with implications for the globe. And like every war needs a battleground, the emergent tech war, too, needs a platform for the tech powers to showcase their strength and achieve victories. 

Saudi Arabia has embraced the situation with both hands. Having laid its Vision 2030 plan, which seeks to diversify its economy through increased focus on innovation, Riyadh has made digital transformation a critical goal. However, considering the contemporary geopolitical realities, Riyadh must also embrace diplomacy, strategic autonomy, and a multipolar perspective. There is reason to believe that the Saudis are ready to do so. 

Saudi Arabia organizes several of the world’s biggest forums and platforms in the tech space.  Its annual Global Cybersecurity Forum discusses the universal opportunities and challenges posed by the evolving cyber order, and the LEAP Tech Conference—an annual tech convention—serves as a global platform to exhibit future technologies and some of the most disruptive tech professionals from around the world.

But before taking over as a center for global tech attention, Riyadh has brought its house in order with strong policy and strategy frameworks, reflected in its second rank in the International Telecommunication Union’s Global Cybersecurity Index—a reference that measures the commitment of countries to cybersecurity at the global level. 

After creating a National Cybersecurity Authority in 2017, Saudi Arabia created a Data and Artificial Intelligence Authority (SDAIA) in 2019 and launched the “CyberIC” program in 2022, seeking to develop its cybersecurity sector by localizing cybersecurity technology and encouraging indigenous cybersecurity startups. 

The China story

The recently concluded LEAP 2023 gave a glimpse of Chinese interest and inroads in Saudi Arabia’s tech oasis. While Huawei displayed its latest innovation solutions under the theme “Unleash Digital,” demonstrating end-to-end innovations and industrial applications for some of Riyadh’s key focus sectors like oil, gas, and governance, Huawei Cloud announced its plans to invest $400 million over the next five years to establish its infrastructure in the country.

For Huawei, Saudi Arabia is a platform to present its advances in the cloud and artificial intelligence. This is exemplified by the unveiling of Huawei’s second store in Saudi Arabia in early February this year, having opened its biggest flagship store outside China precisely one year ago in Riyadh in February 2022. Furthermore, to strengthen the partnership, the Saudi Arabia-China Entrepreneur Association (SCEA) has been launched, comprising over 100 Saudi and Chinese businesses, government entities, academic institutions, and non-governmental organizations. 

While Chinese media underlines SCEA as pivotal to driving continued progress in the digital transformation of both Saudi Arabia and China, in Saudi Arabia, it is seen as a critical step toward the Saudi-China strategic partnership in terms of tech and innovation.

A U.S. comeback?

The United States shifted attention to the Indo-Pacific in the past decade due to its decreased reliance on the Middle East region for energy needs. However, in light of accelerated decoupling from China, Washington is rejuvenating its regional strategic partnerships. This is visible in several recent announcements like I2U2 (a grouping of India, Israel, the United States, and the United Arab Emirates) and the expansion of the Abraham Accords to include cyber collaboration. 

In May 2022, the Saudi minister of communications and internet technology met with the U.S. deputy national security advisor for cyber and emerging technology to review efforts to foster the partnership and develop bilateral cooperation in cybersecurity and emerging technologies. Then in July, Saudi Arabia and the United States signed the “Jeddah Communique,” outlining the strategic partnership between the two over the coming decades, aiming to advance mutual interests and offering a shared vision for a more peaceful, secure, prosperous, and stable Middle East. U.S. president Joe Biden remarked that Saudi Arabia would invest in new U.S.-led technologies to develop secure and reliable 5G and 6G networks, in Saudi Arabia as well as in developing countries, in coordination with the Partnership for Global Infrastructure and Investment. This collaborative effort by the G7 countries is based on trust principles of the Blue Dot Network (a multi-stakeholder initiative by the United States, Japan, and Australia) and is a vital component of the “Biden doctrine.”  

These agreements are seen as a boost to containment efforts by the United States against the accelerating proliferation of Chinese technologies in the region.

A third tech pole?

Indian-Saudi Arabian relations have intensified on the political, diplomatic, and tech front in recent years. In November 2022, India’s national cybersecurity coordinator, Lt. Gen. Rajesh Pant, remarked that Saudi Arabia and India would soon sign a memorandum of understanding (MoU) to elevate cooperation in cybersecurity and that the bilateral talks are steadily progressing. Several major Indian companies like Tata, Wipro, and TCS have a strong presence in Saudi Arabia, with many others now in line to get a piece of Riyadh’s investment offerings. This was also visible at the LEAP 2023, which saw participation from over forty-five Indian companies and a delegation from the Confederation of Indian Industry—a non-governmental trade association and advocacy group representing the Indian industry’s interests. 

On the sidelines of the World Economic Forum (WEF) in Davos earlier this year, the Saudi minister of communications and internet technology met with his Indian counterpart to discuss strengthening the Indian-Saudi strategic partnership in technology, innovation, and digital entrepreneurship. At the recently concluded LEAP, the results emanating from the WEF meeting were underlined by Tech Mahindra—one of India’s top software companies—signing a MoU with the Ministry of Communication and IT to set up a “Data & AI and Cloud Centre of Excellence” in Riyadh, and Zoho Corp—another leading Indian multinational software company—announced plans to boost investment in Saudi Arabia.

Trends for 2023

Saudi Arabia has faced a slew of cyberattacks on its critical industrial sectors in recent years. In one estimate, 54 percent of Saudi organizations experienced business-impacting security incidents, while over 56 percent of organizations in the country faced ransomware attacks in 2021. Today, while over 50 percent of the Saudi IT sector workforce is non-Saudi, Riyadh has focused on encouraging universities to invest heavily in curricula to develop the required cyber skills among students. In the past decade, major international companies have hired and trained Saudis, and government policies now encourage companies to employ local talent aggressively. In addition, the Saudi government has inked an agreement with the WEF to explore cybersecurity cooperation and a deal with the United Nations to empower children in cyberspace. 

Strengthened by internal strategic cohesion, Riyadh is transforming into a tech hub for competing global technologies. At the WEF in Davos, the Saudi finance minister emphasized that the country can be a conduit between China and the United States during heightened geopolitical tensions. While the United States has been a long-standing strategic partner, China and Saudi Arabia signed a strategic partnership agreement in December 2022—described by the Chinese Foreign Ministry as “an epoch-making milestone in the history of China-Arab relations.” Moreover, while Huawei has a broad penetration in the region—posing difficulties for new entrants—the new partnership with the United States based on open technology frameworks can help offset China’s inroads. 

Indeed, it appears that there are three countries looking to develop and enhance strategic partnerships with Riyadh. As the United States and India embolden their bilateral partnership under the initiative on the Critical and Emerging Technology paradigm, it remains to be seen if a trilateral strategic partnership framework can emerge between India, the United States, and Saudi Arabia. For now, all the tech roads seem to be heading to Riyadh.

Divyanshu Jindal is a Research Associate at NatStrat, India. His research revolves around geopolitics, cyber, and influence operations. Views are personal.

Image: Shutterstock.

Migration, especially from Africa, has been rising over the past decade. But Europe’s leadership does not seem particularly focused on it. At the forefront is Italy, which for years has been trying to stem an increasing flow of migrants, along with other Mediterranean nations—Greece, Spain, Malta, and Cyprus. Planning a truly shared policy among European states is certainly difficult, but the migration phenomenon will likely increase exponentially in the coming years. Libya is the springboard for thousands of migrants. Its weak government is not up to the challenge, presenting an obstacle that the European Union must deal with soon.

Of particular concern is irregular migration, which happens outside the laws of the sending or receiving countries. In 2022, the European Border Security Agency, FRONTEX, counted 330,000 irregular entries within European borders: an increase of 64 percent compared to the previous year and the highest number since 2016. These numbers did not include the more than 13 million Ukrainian refugees who “were counted on entry” after fleeing Russia’s invasion.

To be sure, this year’s preliminary figures were down 12 percent from the previous year, in large part due to poor weather conditions on sea routes to Europe. Numbers are still lower than in 2015, when nearly a million migrants, asylum-seekers, and refugees entered Europe. However, the flow of migrants is unlikely to peter out.

Why Migration Will Continue to Be a Problem for Europe

Libya is historically a jumping-off point for departure to Europe and neighboring countries such as Egypt and Tunisia. Nearly 680,000 migrants of more than forty-one nationalities were registered in Libya in July-August 2022, mostly coming from Niger, Egypt, Sudan, Chad, and Nigeria.

In addition to migrants fleeing political, security, and economic crises, migrants are coming in increasing numbers from crises related to climate change. These so-called climate migrants have always been there, but the trend looks set to increase. The World Bank has released staggering numbers, indicating 86 million climate change migrants by 2050.

At the same time, Africa’s population growth is surging. Its population rise will require an extraordinary increase in natural resources that is very unlikely to be met. Future rainfall projections indicate a decrease that will affect water resources, in particular the surface water that supplies the largest dams and reservoirs in North Africa. Faced with the desertification of the Sahel belt, migration flows from Libya across the Mediterranean, will likely intensify, impacting coastal nations such as Spain, Italy, Greece, Cyprus, and Malta. These countries have suffered greatly in recent years due to European policies that are now out of step with the times, such as the criteria of the Dublin Convention—an international treaty signed in 1990 by the then twelve member states of the European Community and entered into force in 1997. Things got worse following the fall of Muammar el-Qaddafi and his regime, which caused the loss of control of migratory flows from Libya, impacting Italy first and foremost.

Italy in the Front Row

For Italy, Libya is not only the most important departure point for migrants traveling to its shores, but also of enormous strategic value in terms of energy. Yet Italian prime minister Giorgia Meloni has not revealed how her government will tackle migration in practical terms. Likewise, the European Council’s meeting on February 9–10 reiterated that immigration needs a common response, but little has been done to help Italy and other coastal countries deal with this emergency. In November 2022, the European Council proposed twenty rather generic measures to reduce irregular migration. These measures are along three lines: working with countries such as Tunisia, Libya, and Egypt to control migrant departures; promoting “more coordinated” search and rescue in the Mediterranean; and strengthening the implementation of the voluntary migrant redistribution mechanism introduced in June 2022, which, however, has so far failed to yield satisfactory results.

It is difficult to develop a coherent, long-term strategy with weak, delegitimized, and even overlapping governments in Libya, as happened last spring when the “outgoing” government of National Unity in Tripoli led by Abdulhamid Dbeibah was pitted against the sham government of National Stability led by former Interior Minister Fathi Bashagha.

Italy, for better or for worse, collaborated in the past with the Qaddafi regime. It has continued to come to compromises with Libya in recent years through official memoranda and less-than-clear agreements. The first memorandum between the two countries was signed in 2008 by then-Italian interior minister Roberto Maroni and Qaddafi, and stipulated that Italy had to pay Libya $5 billion in aid in exchange for constant patrolling of the coast to prevent migrants from leaving. The agreement was heavily criticized for the arbitrary detention, mistreatment, and torture of migrants by Libyan authorities. In 2012, Rome renewed the agreement with Tripoli, to control Libya's southern borders and train local border police. In 2017, then-Italian interior minister Marco Minniti signed a memorandum of understanding with then Libyan prime minister Fayez al Serraj on migration management, border control, and countering human trafficking. That so-called “memorandum of shame” has drawn much criticism regarding the migrants’ safety. Renewed in 2020, it was extended again on November 2, 2022, provoking a chorus of protests among civil society groups. Yet these memoranda are not part of a long-term strategy shared with Brussels, but rather the result of ongoing emergencies.

In September 2022, European Parliament president Roberta Metsola and senior European representatives agreed to conduct negotiations to reform EU migration and asylum rules by February 2024, with the chair of the European Parliament’s Civil Liberties Committee, Juan Fernando López Aguilar, the chair of the Asylum Contact Group, Elena Yoncheva, and the permanent representatives of Czechia, Sweden, Spain, Belgium, and France. This step reinforces the European Commission’s proposal of a new pact on migration and asylum in September 2020 to improve procedures and share responsibilities fairly among member states while managing migration flows.

Actions, unfortunately, have not lived up to words, and while Europe languishes, other nations are establishing themselves in Africa. The widespread presence of Russia’s Wagner Group is one example, but China, Turkey, and the Gulf states are also present. Libya has provided an important haven for jihadist groups such as the Islamic State that have maintained cells in the border territories and the southern province of Fezzan. Hundreds of armed militia groups are also present—some purely local, others outright criminal cartels. These groups have shared control of Libya through constant violence and extortion. In many respects, they now hold Libyan institutions hostage.

In the face of these troubling scenarios, the real issue is what can realistically be done to staunch the flow of migration and control the doors of the Maghreb and Libya as migration superhighways to Europe. To remedy this crisis, there must first be some semblance of a coherent process to create credible, implementable policy recommendations. That process is broken, principally because the right players are not at the table, and those who are, on balance, are not contributing to a workable solution.

The United States must provide strategic leadership to the entire process in close partnership with the EU and other key European countries. The wave of migration in 2015, which nearly destabilized European politics, was a harbinger of things to come. Europe’s political stability—which, if this continues, is by no means assured—is a vital interest of the United States. The EU must demand a more energetic and participatory U.S. involvement. The sources of migration are an African continental matter, not a North African one, so the African Union cannot sit this one out. It too must be at the table and a full participant, as should the Arab League, with a very different motivation from what we have seen so far.

As to the policies themselves, because their formulation process is sub-optimal from the start, they should focus on three principal goals.

First, the reasons for migration must be addressed on the African continent itself. These are complex and can seem beyond the reach of credible policy. People are leaving in droves because of a lack of economic opportunity and grinding poverty; vast and seemingly insoluble governmental corruption; local and transnational conflict fueled by strongmen, mercenaries, militias, and gangs; and, increasingly, climate change.

Second, policy formulation should propose how to manage, mitigate, or prevent illegal migration into Europe. A security solution to migration seems fraught, but it must be considered. This is a maritime and border security issue and will require a coordinated effort by the Mediterranean nations’ coast guards, navies, and border control organizations.

Third, migrants who legally arrive on the shores of Europe should be compassionately processed and supported through comprehensive European programs. These three domains must be seen as a policy whole.

Unless the policy formulation process is fixed, there can be no comprehensive approach to migration. It is a threat to African nations, and to Europe. And it is a threat to American vital interests in Africa and Europe as well.

Federica Saini Fasanotti is a military historian specializing in irregular wars. She is a nonresident senior fellow of the Brookings Institution in Washington DC and an associate senior fellow of the Institute for International Political Studies (ISPI) in Milan.

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The lessons-learned doctrine from the war in Ukraine is yet to be written, but the conflict has clearly demonstrated how paramilitary forces, such as Russia’s Wagner Private Military Company (better known simply as the Wagner Group) can reinforce state militaries.

Of course, proxies and non-state partnerships have influenced the contours of conflicts in the Middle East for many years. Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) has led the curve via its relationships with Shia militia groups in Iraq and across the Levant.

Yet the IRGC is more than a fighting force. Despite sanctions on its commercial affiliates, most notably Khatam al-Anbia, it is a financially self-sustaining military. Beyond this, the IRGC created a systemic model of establishing a presence in vulnerable states and regions, and followed with front and shell companies for funding and sanctions circumvention. And the Wagner Group appears to be following a similar path. Moreover, Wagner serves as a tool of foreign policy for Moscow, just as the IRGC does for Iran.

There are key differences to be sure. The IRGC was created by and is recognized as a military institution of the Iranian regime. The Wagner Group is a private military company, owned by one man—Yevgeny Prigozhin. And while it works in tandem with the Russian defense forces, it also competes with them for resources and funding. Yet while Prigozhin is the owner, the group is believed to be loosely managed by Russia’s Ministry of Defense and the GRU, its military intelligence office.

Just as the IRGC’s operations have spread from Iran to Syria and beyond, so have Wagner Group operations extended from Ukraine through much of Africa. The use of self-sustaining fighting groups appeals to certain states, because they allow them to impose greater losses and costs on their enemies and alter global order. This model is gradually becoming the norm in warfare and international relations.

The IRGC Model

The dark alliance between Russia and Iran is a study with multiple variables. It ranges from military-to-military coordination in Syria (to keep Bashar al-Assad in power) to arming Russian forces with Iranian drones to fight Ukraine. The scope of cooperation is determined by the necessities of the conflict.

The Iranian Artesh has always been considered the conventional state military. The 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran ushered in an era of regional change and domestic turmoil that called for a force that could temper anti-regime ambitions. The IRGC was born from this state of affairs. Gradually, this export arm of the Islamic Revolution transitioned into a major player in Iran’s economy, politics, and even foreign affairs. But it was a series of crises that catapulted the IRGC to self-sufficiency and political dominance.

The Iran-Iraq War was a pivotal moment not just for the region, but for Iran to reevaluate its priorities and define its defense doctrine. The IRGC-owned Khatam al-Anbia was established to rebuild the country following the war. It became the leading engineering and construction company in Iran, which continually wins multi-billion-dollar contracts from the state because of the lack of competition. It was beyond domestic control; the IRGC expanded abroad and exploited vacuums.

Following the 2003 Iraq war, U.S. political maneuvering with the new government in Baghdad left open pockets of opportunity ripe for Iranian influence. This influence expanded vastly from 2013–2017; while the United States was focused on combating the Islamic State, the IRGC Qods Force created parameters for Iranian staying power in both Iraq and Syria.

This was accomplished largely through the efforts of former IRGC-QF commander General Qasem Soleimani, who cultivated a variety of lethal Shia militia groups that were both nationalist, but loyal to him personally. This facilitated a political, economic, and military power grab along the Shia crescent. Front and shell companies have been weaved into the IRGC defense doctrine. Once a presence is established, a range of regionally based companies facilitate the IRGC’s illicit activities.

Likewise, Russia’s war in Ukraine is serving a comparable purpose for the Wagner Group. A private military company is not the same as a state-run military, but there is nothing inherently unique about the Wagner Group that separates its activities from those of Iran’s IRGC. Prigozhin is seizing an opportunity to vault the Wagner Group to greater prominence. Much like Khatam al-Anbia, the financial arm of the Revolutionary Guard, Prigozhin’s Concord Management has signed lucrative contracts in Russia and abroad thanks to his relationship with Russian president Vladimir Putin.

The Wagner Group is believed to have been heavily involved with the 2014 Russian invasion and annexation of the Crimean Peninsula. Wagner mercenaries are also believed to have fought on behalf of the Donetsk People’s Republic and Luhansk People’s Republic in Ukraine in 2015, as well as having a footprint in Donbas and being active in the ongoing war in Ukraine.

Wagner fighters were deployed to Syria in 2014 and 2015 to help Assad remain in power. Wagner struggled against U.S.-backed Syrian Defense Forces (SDF) in 2018 in the battle for Deir ez-Zor province. But with lessons learned, they have since increased the areas under their control in Syria and are now more influential than Iran in that country. The group has now expanded its operations to the African continent, particularly across Sub-Saharan Africa. Libya was a gateway into this venture, in part because of Wagner's mild successes with Khalifa Haftar.

Filling vacuums is part of the IRGC model. They had success in parts of South America, but its ascension in Iraq serves as the standard. Sub-Saharan Africa is becoming the Wagner Group’s Iraq. Wagner fighters appear to be most heavily present in Mali, allegedly conducting counterinsurgency operations at the behest of the Malian government. Wagner’s commercial operations are reportedly tapping into Mali’s rich natural resources to illicitly fund their activities.

The Central African Republic is the latest African country to be experiencing Wagner’s influence. Prigozhin’s Internet Research Agency, a troll farm, has been spreading pro-Russian disinformation there. Wagner recruiters are now reportedly following up by actively recruiting prisoners there to fight in Ukraine. To the west, Burkina Faso is being increasingly pressured by Mali to embrace Wagner’s services to help forge bilateral ties with Russia. Elsewhere, Wagner personnel are present following Russia and Cameroon’s signing of a defense agreement in April 2022. Wagner operations are also active in the Democratic Republic of Congo, specifically through front companies that support influence operations.

The Role of Sanctions

The Iranian regime has expertly circumvented U.S. and international sanctions for over four decades. We should assume that Moscow is Tehran’s apprentice in evading sanctions. This Russia-Iran cooperation is merely one of convenience for Moscow; there are other relationships that are far more significant as Russia is pushed further out of the global markets.

When used correctly, sanctions are an effective foreign policy tool. For instance, Iran’s Khatam al-Anbia, through its various financial holdings and virtual monopoly on Iranian construction bids, is a highly lucrative source of funding for the IRGC. When the U.S. sanctioned its engineering subsidiary, it proved one of the most effective sanctions to hit the IRGC. Since then, sanctions against other subsidiaries have increased, but so too has the IRGC’s creativity in sustaining this model.

The Wagner Group is slowly experiencing similar economic straits. Prigozhin was designated in 2014 for his ties to the conflict in Ukraine and again in 2015 for his links to malicious cyber activities. Concord Management and Consulting, Prigozhin’s leading company, was sanctioned in 2017 for ties to the war in eastern Ukraine. With Concord sanctioned, Prigozhin is doubtless using other front companies and subsidiaries to bankroll his military operations. When these are discovered and exposed, sanctions will presumably follow. In 2021, the EU, led by France, sanctioned the Wagner Group for its activities in Libya, Syria, and Ukraine, which includes human rights abuses.

Working in tandem with both defense and intelligence forces, Wagner affiliates are actively engaging in disinformation campaigns to influence foreign elections. Sanctions are starting to roll on these operations, too. Perhaps the most significant designations came in 2018 (for U.S. and foreign government election interference) and again in 2022 (when cited for U.S. election interference by the U.S. Office of Foreign Assets Control). Relatedly, in February 2022, Prigozhin’s Internet Research Agency was added to European Union sanctions for running disinformation campaigns to manipulate public opinion.

But though the United States and the rest of the international community have ramped up sanctions against Wagner, challenges remain. Washington should pivot resources toward affiliated individuals and entities, with a special emphasis on the likelihood of front and shell companies tied to Prigozhin and Wagner, to ensure a sustained campaign of aggressive sanctions enforcement that will ultimately lead to broader sanctions implementations. In 2022, a significant increase in pressure was added to Wagner with the designation by multiple countries, including the United States, as an international criminal organization.

Wagner’s Future

The feud between Prigozhin and Russian defense minister Sergei Shoigu—who has support from the chief of staff of the Russian military—led to setbacks in weapons and funding for Wagner. But as the invasion of Ukraine floundered in 2022, the need for the group’s services and cooperation grew. This has led to a more robust relationship with the GRU. Wagner forces are gradually blending into Russia’s defense doctrine, which was recently updated to reflect changes in both tactical and operational doctrines, closely mirroring the Wagners.

But the make-up of the Wagner forces is distinct from Russian forces. Wagner's military recruiters draw largely from prisons. As of this writing, roughly 50,000 Wagner fighters are in Ukraine: 10,000 are “traditional” mercenary contractors, while 40,000 are convicts. Wagner publicly ended this practice on  February 8 of this year.

The Treasury Department’s designation of the Wagner’s as a “transnational criminal organization” (TCO) is a significant step toward exposing greater Wagner atrocities. Transnational criminal organizations threaten U.S. interests through diversified criminal activities. Violence and corruption are at the heart of TCOs and how they conduct their illicit activities.

It is an open question as to whether or not Wagner is trying to outshine and even outlast the Russian state military. Continued sanctions hurt, and continuing exposures of direct ties to the Kremlin make it easier to impose more effective sanctions. It’s improbable that Wagner will create a shadow government as the IRGC have done in Iran, but they can become self-sustaining to such a degree as to offer Moscow parallel militaries to achieve its geostrategic ambitions counter to NATO and abroad in the most vulnerable parts of Africa. While the Kremlin writ large is not altogether supportive of Wagner (or Prigozhin for that matter), the group has Putin’s support—unless Putin changes his perspective on his old friend.

A Future of Private Military Groups?

Institutions like the IRGC and Wagner are tools of foreign policy by their respective states. Ever opportunistic, these states look to expand their influence in global hotspots where the United States is minimally present, taking advantage of the fact that Washington is focused is on higher-priority issues elsewhere. When a foothold is established, front and shell companies are propped up to enable illicit activities and evade sanctions. In the Wagner case, African countries are strategic access points for a regional presence that could assist Moscow’s economy through the impact and re-export of globally banned items due to sanctions. While Iraq was a political and military access point for Iran’s IRGC, African countries offer commercial activities that support Moscow, and could potentially lengthen the war in Ukraine.

For years, Prigozhin and his group went unnoticed, wreaking havoc in unstable environments while eluding the attention of the international community. Then, again, the world didn’t see the rise of the IRGC coming either. With the ongoing war in Ukraine, it’s essential to set our sights on Wagner before it becomes too powerful to scale back.

Alma Keshavarz is a visiting professor in international relations at Pepperdine University, School of Public Policy. She previously served in the Secretary of State’s Policy Planning Staff at the Department of State.

Kiron K. Skinner is the Taube Professor of International Relations and Politics at Pepperdine University’s School of Public Policy, W. Glenn Campbell Research Fellow at Stanford University’s Hoover Institution, and a Visiting Fellow at the Heritage Foundation.

Image: Shutterstock.

The United States’ lasting prosperity and global muscle can be credited in part to its hard and soft power, but they also owe to another strong force: intelligent power. Intelligent power is the ability of a country to influence other players to follow or emulate its political system, social structure, development pathway, and lifestyle through its morality, culture, and values. It refers to the natural projection of moral appeal, cultural inclusiveness, and values.

Intelligent power is endogenous, resilient, and magnetic. A country with strong intelligent power sets an example worldwide, one that is the object of study of other countries, inspiring imitation in the political, economic, social, and judicial sectors. The unique intelligent power of China during the Song dynasty, Italy during the Renaissance, and the United Kingdom during the Industrial Revolution served as a model to inspire the development efforts of other countries.

With high levels of political morality based on the rule of law, inclusive multiculturalism, and broadly accepted values, countries like the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Canada, Australia, and Singapore appeal to people pursuing their dreams around the world. At the same time, these people bring their own special wisdom, knowledge, and cultures, which are used to further enhance the intelligent power of these countries.

In contemporary international relations, hard power—which relies on military intervention, coercive diplomacy, and economic sanctions—is becoming less useful as the global system changes. Soft power stresses the ability of a country to persuade others to do what it wants without force or coercion, but it is not easily wielded to achieve specific outcomes. By contrast, intelligent power is a fundamentally progressive force of human civilization grounded in its common morality, inclusive culture, and universal values. A country with intelligent power has a worldwide network of alliances that helps to strengthen both its hard and soft power.

Due to its strong intelligent power, the United States has long been considered one of the most attractive places on the planet, its voice and proposals are heard and followed by most countries, and its political system and values are followed by many other governments. A country with only hard power, like Russia, cannot earn the respect of others nor gain power through discourse in the international community.

No one denies that China is endowed with huge intelligent power. Its unique culture has assimilated civilized achievements from the East and the West; its traditional morality of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and fidelity is the cornerstone of China’s social order; and its common values of the “golden mean” are commonly accepted by the people of Asia.

In his efforts to consolidate the legitimacy of his regime, Chinese president Xi Jinping has been peddling Marxism packaged with Chinese culture and values to the world. As of 2018, 530 Confucius Institutes and more than 1,100 Confucius Classrooms were set up in 149 countries to promote and teach Chinese culture, language, and art. However, more and more critics argue that they are, in the words of Ethan Epstein, "an important part of China's overseas propaganda set-up”

To show “the spirit of struggle” that Xi has urged officials to implement, Chinese diplomats have embraced an aggressive “wolf warrior” ethos, discarding the professionalism, rationality, and courtesy that Chinese culture upholds. Chinese state media has embarked on advertising campaigns to bolster its Marxist ideology on Western platforms such as Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube.

At home, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has launched a sweeping Mao-style ideological campaign. Xi called for China to build cultural confidence and oppose the transmission of Western cultures in China, blurring the distinction between ideology and culture. Moreover, Chinese authorities have intensified their crackdown on religious groups.

In the age of globalization, universal values are needed more than ever before to manage differences among countries without resorting to violence. Since Xi took office, the CCP has begun to distort or undermine universal values, portraying universal values as a force that threatens the CCP’s rule. Recently, the CCP urged China never to follow the path of Western constitutionalism, separation of powers, or judicial independence.

Xi’s ideological push has severely harmed China’s intelligent power. Many Confucius Institutes are banned in Western countries, while many countries and human rights groups have accused Beijing of serious human rights violations. “Wolf Warrior diplomacy” has frequently undermined Beijing’s reputation and interests. Indeed, Xi’s stigmatization of universal values has caused most modern, civilized countries to reject China as a world leader.

The CCP’s propaganda campaign to disseminate Marxism under the guise of promoting China’s culture and values cannot succeed. Because of this, China is unlikely to develop intelligent power in the near future.

Chris Lee is a Chinese economist and political strategist. He has published more than 60 papers. His latest piece in The National Interest is China Faces a Looming Economic Disaster.

Image: Salma Bashir Motiwala / Shutterstock.com.

When Abiy Ahmed assumed office as Ethiopia’s prime minister, he inherited a country grappling with long-standing internal tensions, including an imminent civil war in the Tigray region. Abiy’s initial approach of cracking down on the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), the dominant party in Ethiopian politics over the past thirty years, culminated in a brutal and protracted conflict with far-reaching consequences for the country’s political and economic infrastructure. Through the support of neighboring strongman and autocrat Eritrean president Isaias Afwerki as well as Turkey, China, and the United Arab Emirates, Abiy eventually emerged victorious, but not without significant costs. As Ethiopia continues to grapple with enduring tensions and internal conflicts, and as Abiy attempts to establish a lasting legacy as a peacemaker, the role of regional actors, including Afwerki, is emerging as a critical factor in the country’s stability.

In April 2018, when Abiy became Ethiopia’s prime minister, he faced the challenge of managing a country on the brink of a civil war. His predecessor, Hailemariam Desalegn, resigned under duress, paving the way for Abiy to make history as Ethiopia’s first Oromo prime minister. As an ethnic Oromo married to an Amhara wife, Abiy was enthusiastically received by the wider Oromo community, showing their contentment with Ethiopia’s political trajectory by showing up in large numbers on the streets. In 2019, Abiy was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his role in ending a twenty-year conflict with neighboring Eritrea.

However, Abiy’s ascension to power coincided with deep-seated tensions between the Ethiopian government and TPLF. When he began cracking down on Tigrayan officials holding powerful positions in Ethiopia’s government, he faced multiple assassination attempts as a result. Escalating tensions eventually led to elections in September 2020, a controversial display of TLPF autonomy from the central government in Addis Ababa. The Ethiopian government deemed the move illegal, and in November of the same year, the TPLF attacked the Northern Command of the Ethiopian military, sparking the Tigray war.

Initially, the Ethiopian National Defense Force (ENDF) overran the TPLF and ousted the rebels from the Tigrayan region capital, Mekelle. However, the TPLF, resorting to classic guerrilla tactics, engaged in a game of cat and mouse with the ENDF. The ENDF’s frustration with the recalcitrance of the Tigray people, a tight-knit, highly politically conscious society, led to the full wrath of its power being brought onto the civilians in Tigray. Cases of rape, torture and extrajudicial killings were widely documented by international human rights organizations.

In June 2021, the TPLF retook Mekelle, and in November of the same year, it declared that it would push toward Ethiopia’s capital, Addis Ababa. During that period, the TPLF's brutal retribution for the ENDF's occupation of Mekelle extended to new areas in the Amhara and Afar regions, where it unleashed large-scale atrocities against civilians with almost equal measure. Abiy temporarily handed over his duties as Ethiopia’s prime minister to his deputy and led the army himself. With Turkish and Chinese drones and Eritrean troops on the ground, the ENDF launched a blitzkrieg against the TPLF, taking back the territories that the TPLF had occupied in the previous three months in just three days. 

This time, Abiy demonstrated a capacity for learning from past missteps. Specifically, during the 2020 incident where the ENDF overpowered the TPLF, the Ethiopian government was reluctant to acknowledge any potential for third-party mediation and failed to capitalize on the favorable momentum to establish a peace agreement. However, during subsequent events, the Ethiopian government signaled a willingness to consider the African Union’s peace agreement that was spearheaded by Olusegun Obasanjo, the former president of Nigeria, as a mediator. The African Union acted quickly, organizing a peace conference in Pretoria, South Africa, in November 2022, almost two years after the commencement of hostilities, and invited representatives from both the TPLF and the Ethiopian government. Subsequent rounds of negotiations emerged as a result of the peace conference, ultimately contributing to a de-escalation of tensions and culminating in the TPLF surrendering its heavy weaponry in January 2023.

This recent chapter in Ethiopia’s historical narrative marks a crucial and transformative moment, characterized by a departure from the country’s violent past. Ethiopia has struggled with intermittent civil conflicts that have seldom been resolved through peaceful means. The reign of Emperor Haile Selassie during the 1930s was tumultuous, culminating in his alleged assassination by the orders of Mengistu Haile Mariam, who staged a military coup in 1975 to overthrow the monarch. In the 1990s, Mengistu himself was forced to flee the country after being ousted from power by a rebel faction led by the TPLF. Furthermore, the unexpected death of Meles Zenawi, Ethiopia’s prime minister since the 1990s, in 2012 left a leadership vacuum, and concerns over a peaceful transition of power emerged. Hailemariam Desalegn, who succeeded Zenawi, resigned under the weight of TPLF’s reluctance to relinquish its hold on power, thus passing the baton to Abiy Ahmed. Abiy’s approach to peace in Ethiopian politics is distinctive in that it effectively reconciled opposing factions, a feat that was previously unaccomplished in the country’s history. 

Nonetheless, despite the success of Abiy’s innovative approach to peace in Ethiopian politics, it remains uncertain whether his efforts have earned the approval of his Eritrean ally, Afwerki. Afwerki’s deep-seated personal animosity towards the TPLF dates back to the 1998 war between Ethiopia and Eritrea. Furthermore, the recent loss of power by Somalia’s president, Mohamed Abdullahi Farmajo, to Hassan Sheikh Mohamud in May 2022, has weakened Afwerki’s position in East Africa. Farmajo had cultivated a special relationship with Afwerki, an arrangement that was not welcomed by Djibouti, a neighboring country with linguistic, ethnic, and religious ties to Somalia, and whose part of its land has been occupied by Eritrea since 2008. The changing political dynamics in the region, with the departure of Farmajo and the emergence of a new alliance between Ethiopia, Djibouti, and Kenya under the banner of the “Somalia’s Frontline State Summit” in Mogadishu in February 2023, may marginalize the tripartite alliance between Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Somalia, formed during Farmajo’s time in office, thus further isolating Afwerki. Such developments may lead Afwerki to work against Ethiopia’s peace process, thereby undermining the potential for sustainable peace in the region.

Despite Abiy’s apparent consolidation of power in Ethiopia, there remain deep-rooted tensions that continue to simmer in several parts of the country, creating a potential opportunity for Afwerki to exploit and undermine Abiy’s efforts toward stability. In Oromia, for instance, the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) continues to mount attacks on the ENDF, occasionally gaining control of territories. Similarly, there are unresolved disputes between the Afar and Somali ethnic groups, which have escalated since the outbreak of the Tigray conflict. Armed Afar groups, equipped with ENDF weaponry, have seized Somali towns they regard as historically belonging to Afar, leading to the massacre of civilians, particularly women, and children. Moreover, the Amhara militia group known as FANO, which has played a significant role in the conflict against the TPLF, is not in a completely stable relationship with Abiy. Additionally, the recent tensions between Ethiopia’s Orthodox Church and members of the Oromo ethnic group may open new fronts of religious tension in the country. These simmering tensions offer Afwerki a window of opportunity to interfere in Ethiopia’s internal affairs and maintain control over Abiy, exploiting any perceived lapses in his leadership.

The recent successful negotiations that culminated in the TPLF surrendering its heavy weaponry and de-escalating the Tigray conflict are significant steps toward Ethiopia's journey to stability. The African Union’s mediation efforts, combined with the Ethiopian government’s willingness to consider third-party intervention, proved to be a winning combination. The strategy employed in this situation could serve as a model for resolving other brewing conflicts in Ethiopia, such as those involving OLA, FANO, the tensions between the Afar and Somali ethnic groups, and the issues concerning the country’s religious groups. By establishing a similar framework of transparency and rectitude in these situations, Ethiopia can create guardrails for peace and deter further attempts to undermine its trajectory toward stability. The African Union and the Ethiopian government must work together to ensure that the lessons learned from the Tigray conflict are applied to other conflicts in the country, to ensure that Ethiopia continues to move forward on a path of peace and stability.

Ethiopia’s quest for stability has undergone significant transformations under Abiy’s leadership. The Nobel laureate’s unorthodox path from a peacemaker to a war leader has brought into question the sustainability of his leadership and opened the door for Afwerki to exploit Ethiopia’s underlying tensions. Furthermore, Abiy’s pragmatic approach to emerging regional alliances has significant implications for Ethiopia and the region at large, which could define his rule for years to come. 

Mahad D. Darar is an academic based in Colorado, USA. Mr. Darar has a graduate degree in International Relations and Conflict Resolution. His research focuses on the Middle East and East African region. Follow him on Twitter at @organizermahad.

Image: Alexandros Michailidis / Shutterstock.com

The recent election in Nigeria was supposed to be about change. For months, millions of youth who had long been apathetic to politics enthusiastically flocked, both in social media and in person, to the banner of third-party candidate Peter Obi, who also garnered wide and positive coverage from international media outlets. After more than a decade of careening from one crisis to another under incumbent President Muhammadu Buhari and his predecessor Goodluck Jonathan, the conventional wisdom was that the most populous country and largest economy in Africa was ready to put its economic malaise and chronic insecurity behind it.

Then, after some foreseeable delays and even more embarrassing snafus with its information technology systems, the country’s Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) delivered the results: the seventy-year-old former governor of Lagos, Bola Tinubu—the longtime kingmaker of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) who actually campaigned with the Yoruba-language slogan Emi l’okan (“It’s my turn”)—won the presidency with approximately 37 percent of the vote, beating both Atiku Abubakar of the main opposition People’s Democratic Party (PDP), who received 29 percent of the vote, and Obi of the Labour Party (LP), who got 25 percent.

And yet, a closer examination of what transpired shows that, despite the dejection—to say nothing of anger—on the part of many of those wishing for more immediate change, a shift is indeed underway in Nigeria, one that its neighbors on the African continent, as well as its global partners, would do well to be attentive to.

What Happened?

Quite simply, as Phillip van Niekerk noted in one of the most cogent analyses to appear immediately after the results were announced, “the opposition parties committed a strategic blunder by splitting their forces.” A former vice president, the seventy-six-year-old Abubakar is a perennial aspirant for Nigeria’s top job; this was his sixth presidential campaign. In the previous race in 2019, Abubakar, with Obi as his vice-presidential running mate, won seventeen of the country’s thirty-five states plus the Federal Capital Territory. Had the duo not broken up, it is very likely they might have won this year’s contest in a landslide.

Despite the social media-fueled devotion of his youthful following—self-styled “Obidients”—the sixty-one-year-old Obi was handicapped by the limits of the vehicle he adopted for his presidential ambitions: the practically irrelevant LP which, in the current National Assembly, has just one member in the 109-seat Senate and eight in the 360-seat House of Representatives. Had Obi, by some extraordinary feat, managed to win the presidency, he would have struggled mightily to get anything through a legislature dominated by the APC-PDP duopoly since, while the party did better (winning six Senate seats and thirty-six House seats at the time of writing), it still is far from being a major legislative force. However, that scenario was never likely given the mundane realities of political dynamics in the Nigerian federal system: effective national campaigns are built upon having organization (and candidates) at the level of the states and the country’s 774 local government areas (governors in twenty-eight states and state legislators in all thirty-six states and the federal district were to have been chosen in a March 11 vote—now postponed until March 18—that has received very little outside attention; another three states hold gubernatorial votes later this year). The LP did not even field candidates in all the down-ballot races across the country. The hitherto marginal party’s organizational woes were compounded by a money-laundering conviction by a federal high court and the subsequent resignation of the head of its presidential campaign committee, Doyin Okupe, just two months before the vote. This was followed by a subsequent defection of other influential members of the committee, especially a bloc from northeastern states who feuded with Obi’s inner circle.

While there is not denying the energy that the Obidients injected into the campaign, this predominantly urban demographic may represent Nigeria’s aspirations but is itself not representative of a nation where half of the population is still classified as rural. This bias was readily apparent in skewed polling, conducted for the most part via mobile phones or online, that showed Obi with more support than ultimately manifested on the day of the election. Also telling was the story of one self-professed Obidient, profiled by Ruth Maclean, West Africa bureau chief of the New York Times. This particular Obidient who waxed eloquent about her candidate, retweeted his posts, blocked supporters of his rivals, and hectored her friends to register to vote, only to never collect her own Permanent Voter Card (PVC) because, upon encountering long lines, decided that she did not “really like stress.”

The Obidients may have been siloed from many other Nigerians in the same manner that is often inaccurately ascribed to New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael (“I don’t know how Richard Nixon could have won. I don’t know anybody who voted for him”), but both INEC and the international community contributed to the narrative, however unwittingly. The electoral commission did itself no favors in the leadup to the vote by overhyping the untested Bimodal Voter Accreditation System (BVAS) it introduced to authenticate the new biometric PVCs issued to electors as well as failing to collate and publish results in a timely manner. Some of the machines only arrived in Nigeria just days before the vote. Not surprisingly, they did not perform as promised. The problem, however, is that in the climate of mistrust and suspicion then prevalent, INEC was not given any benefit of the doubt when polls were delayed in opening or results failed to upload for whatever reason. As the preliminary assessment of the joint National Democratic Institute-International Republican Institute election observation mission led by former Malawian President Joyce Banda put it succinctly: “Challenges with the electronic transfer of results and their upload to a public portal in a timely manner, undermined citizen confidence at a crucial moment of the process. Moreover, inadequate communication and lack of transparency by [INEC] about their cause and extent created confusion and eroded voters’ trust in the process.”

Van Niekerk pointed out that while INEC may have been inept, charges of systemic fraud favoring the incumbent APC would require an almost dogmatic faith in an elaborate conspiracy: “If the APC were clever enough to pull off a vote-switching operation, they surprisingly denied themselves victory in Katsina, Lagos, Osun, Edo, much of the Northwest and Kano, and rewarded Obi with more than 90 percent of the vote in the Southeast.”

Almost without exception, the international media coverage leading up to the vote was focused on Obi’s candidacy and the Obidients’ rallying around it, inadvertently feeding what proved to be a myopic worldview. The Economist—and it was hardly the only publication to fall into the trap—even published a feature article with a headline describing Obi as “the surprise front-runner in Nigeria’s presidential race.” Zainab Usman, director of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace’s Africa Program who is originally from Nigeria, has lamented that “Twitter became so toxic to many level-headed analysts who just chose to go silent online. Therefore, the prevailing narratives here are incredibly misaligned with on-the-ground realities…But bullying those who don’t align with preferred narratives will make the echo chamber more hollow, loud [and] detached from reality.”

What Next?

Both the PDP and the LP have denounced the results proclaimed by INEC and, in fact, demanded a rerun of the polls even before the official announcement of those results. The LP has filed a legal challenge and the PDP is expected to follow. Abubakar filed suit to contest his losses in the 2007 and 2019 elections, but his appeals were rejected by Nigeria’s Supreme Court in both cases. Obi is likewise no stranger to the process, albeit with slightly better success than his former running mate: in 2003, he contested the results of the race for the governorship of southeastern Anambra State, which was declared for the candidate of the then-ruling PDP; in 2006, after an epic legal battle, the courts ruled in his favor and he was sworn in. Such a reversal, however, has never occurred in a national race.

In the meantime, Tinubu is expected to take over the presidency on May 29. With several races still to be called, the APC will retain a slightly diminished, but still solid, majority in the Nigerian Senate and will likely have a slim majority in the House of Representatives. Significantly, the new National Assembly is considerably different in terms of parties represented and individual members than the outgoing legislature. At least eight parties will be seated in the new body. While the PDP remains the leading opposition party, Nigeria’s first-past-the-post electoral system has meant that many of the gains by the LP and smaller parties came at its expense: so far, it has lost at least fifteen Senate seats. And while the yearning for change was not enough to totally overturn the Nigerian political system, it created sufficient churn that Senate President Ahmed Lawan will be the only one of the 469 legislators who has served since the restoration of civilian rule in 1999 (in comparison, currently ten of America’s 100 senators and thirty-seven of its 435 representatives have been in Congress since before 2000).

Alas, the number of women among parliamentarians will likely diminish. Of the six women in the outgoing Senate, three lost their reelection bids amidst the anti-incumbent mood, while three others—including the new First Lady, Oluremi Tinubu, who represents Central Lagos—did not seek another term. From the results so far, only two women have won seats in the upper chamber.

At an even more basic level, the entire national political establishment faces a challenge of legitimacy in that barely 25 million voters, out of more than 93 million registered, cast ballots in the February 25 poll for the presidency and other federal-level offices. Whether the result of apathy, cynicism, or disenfranchisement, intentional or not, that level of participation is one of the lowest among democratic countries. Among all African countries since the end of the Cold War, according to the International IDEA elections database, only Algeria’s 2021 parliamentary election (23 percent voter turnout) and Tunisia’s December 2022-January 2023 parliamentary election (11 percent turnout) have had lower levels of participation than the recent Nigerian federal vote. Post-election media reports of disenchanted young first-time voters destroying their voter cards and vowing “to never engage again with the democratic process” hardly augur well for the future of Nigeria’s democracy if such tantrums become widespread.

The March 18 gubernatorial and state legislative assembly elections will also give INEC an opportunity to redeem itself if it can get its technology to work properly and better manage its communications. There are indications that the commission may have learned at least some lessons: the need to back up data stored on the BVAS machines due to the legal challenges from the federal elections and the complications of resetting over 176,000 devices for the state-level elections were cited in the communiqué announcing the postponement.

Back to the Future

Addressing the nation the day after he was declared the president-elect by INEC, Tinubu sounded a conciliatory note, saluting his opponents and declaring that “Political competition must now give way to political conciliation and inclusive governance.” He acknowledged that “many people are uncertain, angry, and hurt,” and called for healing and calm. The septuagenarian made a special appeal to Nigeria’s youth: “I hear you loud and clear. I understand your pains, your yearnings for good governance, a functional economy, and a safe nation that protects you and your future. I am aware that for many of you Nigeria has become a place of abiding challenges limiting your ability to see a bright future for yourselves.”

To turn those eloquent words into reality, Tinubu will need to draw upon some of the same playbooks that made his 1999–2007 tenure as governor of Lagos the success that he rightly highlighted during his campaign. According to UN Habitat, Lagos and its environs constitute the densest urban agglomeration on the African continent and come in just behind South America’s densest city, Medellin, for fourth place globally. Yet Tinubu not only managed to govern the sprawl, but it emerged as one of Africa’s key engines of economic growth during the period.

With about 10 percent of Nigeria’s total population, the state generates roughly 20 percent of the country’s GDP. Thanks to reforms put in place by Tinubu while governor, Lagos enjoys the highest internally generated revenue of any Nigerian state in absolute terms as well as in percentage of the state budget, making its government less dependent than other states on federal grants derived from oil revenues. Thus, although the loss of his hometown in the presidential election must sting, the ubiquity of Obidients there and the relative prosperity of many of them are testaments of a sort to the favorable entrepreneurial climate presided over by Tinubu and his successors—all of whom have been younger protégés he groomed after either recruiting them locally or convincing them to return from abroad.

One of the strangest twists during the recent campaign period was the decision in November 2022 by the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) to launch new naira banknotes and initially giving Nigerians only six weeks (subsequently extended by an additional ten days) to exchange their old notes for the newly issued bills. The resulting chaos—exacerbated by a shortage of the new notes and limits imposed on cash withdrawals from bank accounts—led to even well-off Nigerians being unable to pay for everyday expenses. Some prominent Tinubu allies even openly speculated that the exercise was some sort of payback from CBN Governor Godwin Emefiele, whose attempt to enter the APC presidential primary—notwithstanding the statutory nonpartisan nature of his position—was foiled. Since the election, the Nigerian Supreme Court has ruled that the government’s currency rollout unconstitutional, and ordered the old naira bills to be deemed valid through the end of year. This, however, means that completing the swap will be one of the first tasks for the incoming administration—and one the impact of which will affect every Nigerian.

Beyond the botched introduction of new banknotes—notionally not an unreasonable path to curb counterfeiting and other crimes—a number of macroeconomic reforms need to be undertaken. Tinubu has pledged to end the fuel subsidy that costs Nigeria some $15 billion annually—money he says he wants to have “more productively used in joint investments with the private sector to create jobs in infrastructure, health care, education and agriculture,” outlining plans for focused investments in industrialization, technological innovation, improved infrastructure, and agricultural development. None of this will be politically easy—vested interests, ranging from criminal organizations smuggling fuel to ordinary Nigerians, that are against changing the fuel subsidy have stymied every Nigerian president before him—but without drastic action, the stagnation will continue.

Restoring security will also need to be a top priority. Outgoing President Buhari, a one-time military ruler, lavished over twelve trillion naira ($26.5 billion) on the armed forces during his two terms, privileging the fight against Boko Haram and other jihadists groups in northeastern Nigeria. While the fight against the jihadists continues—just this past week, Islamist militants killed at least two dozen people in an attack on a fishing village in Borno State—insecurity continues to spread to other corners of the country, including banditry and criminal gangs in the northwest, separatists in the oil-rich southeast, herder-farmer conflicts in the Middle Belt (many evincing worrisome indications of increasing religious animosities), and growing violence in cities. The relatively conservative tally kept by the Council on Foreign Relations Nigeria Security Tracker puts the number of Nigerians killed last year in violence motivated by political, economic, or social grievance—including state actors as well as terrorist groups and sectarian—at an appalling 4,066. Unless the Tinubu administration can bring the violence under control and reform the security sector, the private investments it seeks for its ambitious economic agenda are unlikely to materialize.

Finally, Tinubu won in an election that also laid bare many of the fissures in Nigerian society, including ethnic and religious divides. The decision to defy the convention of balancing national tickets regionally and religiously by pairing up northerners with southerners, Muslims with Christians (the vice president-elect, Kashim Shettima, former governor of northeastern Borno State, is also, like Tinubu, a Muslim), may have been a smart political move to galvanize the APC’s northern base. But its downside is that the incoming administration will have to be especially attuned to the sensitivities of the plurality of the Nigerian population that does not share the religious commitments of the new president and vice president. Not only domestically, but in Nigeria’s foreign relations, especially with the United States and the United Kingdom, where the concerns of the country’s Christian communities—echoed by the large and well-positioned diaspora—resonate politically.

Why It Matters

While hydraulic fracturing and the resulting “Shale Revolution” mean that Nigerian oil and gas do not have the importance for the United States it once had—in fact, America hardly imports any Nigerian hydrocarbons—what happens in Nigeria still matters a great deal, perhaps even more so, from a geopolitical and geoeconomic perspective.

For the European Union, trying to wean itself from Russian gas in the wake of the invasion of Ukraine, it is hard to overstate the importance of Nigeria, already the source of about 14 percent of EU imports of gas. The 4,000-kilometer Trans-Saharan Gas Pipeline being built from Nigeria through Niger to the Mediterranean in Algeria will more than double that flow with an additional 30 billion cubic meters of gas annually from Nigeria. In the longer term, another pipeline, following the coast some 6,000 kilometers from Nigeria to Morocco, would send even more gas to the EU. In addition, today’s 216 million Nigerians will increase to 375 million by 2050, making the country the third most populous in the world after India and China. Its position will be unassailable as the clear economic and demographic regional heavyweight on an African continent that is increasingly significant in global strategic calculations.

Nigeria’s new president-elect won not only because of a divided opposition, but because the governing party and its core supporters agreed that, on account of his record for delivering politically in Lagos and nationally, it was “his turn.” However, the campaign and the vote tallies made clear that many Nigerians are more concerned that it finally be their turn. Much more than his personal political fortunes will be riding on how deftly Bola Tinubu balances both sets of expectations.

Ambassador J. Peter Pham, a Distinguished Fellow at the Atlantic Council and a Senior Advisor at the Krach Institute for Tech Diplomacy, is former U.S. Special Envoy for the Sahel and Great Lakes Regions of Africa.

Image: Tolu Owoeye/Shutterstock.

The announcement that Saudi Arabia and Iran have restored diplomatic ties after seven years of tensions could result in significant changes in the Middle East. It not only stands to reset one of the region’s most violent rivalries but also exemplifies how China has become an influential player in regional affairs. Indeed, the joint statement issued from Beijing on March 10 committed both countries to respect each other’s sovereignty and to not interfere in each other’s internal affairs, to reopen their embassies in Tehran and Riyadh within two months, to revive a bilateral security pact, and to resume trade, investment, and cultural exchanges.

Occurring during a time of heightened fears of open conflict between Israel and a soon-to-be nuclear Iran, and after years of militant competition between Tehran and Riyadh across the region, this nascent rapprochement is undoubtedly positive. Yet the reactions in the United States and Israel suggest that the outcome—and perceptions of it—are more complicated. To its credit, the Biden administration welcomed the détente and stated that Riyadh had kept Washington informed of the talks’ progress. Yet the fact that it was Beijing that brought the Saudis and Iranians together—merely three months after Chinese president Xi Jinping was lavishly received in Riyadh in sharp contrast to U.S. president Joe Biden’s frosty reception six months earlier—has evidently smarted Washington.

Still, fears of American decline are overblown. China cannot (and is, in fact, not interested in) replacing the United States in the Middle East. The United States remains the region’s apex security provider, not only in terms of selling the most weapons to the region but also in terms of its on-the-ground military presence. But while Washington has squandered its time and resources toppling governments in Iraq, Libya, and Afghanistan and sanctioning Syria and Iran to ruin, China has forged ahead by investing in infrastructure and relationships. The Middle East is large enough for both China and the United States, and rather than panicking about every Chinese action, Washington would be better served by actually trying to compete with Beijing beyond the military sphere.

Moreover, despite Beijing’s growing importance to the Middle East, it is not China, but the United States, that Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates are asking to defend them. In this light, Israel’s anxiety that a Saudi-Iranian rapprochement will work against its interests is misplaced. Far from being “a fatal blow to the effort to build a regional coalition against Iran,” as former Israeli prime minister Naftali Bennet tweeted, a reduction in regional tensions is good for Israel. Having the Saudis (and Chinese) press Iran on taking actions that enhance regional peace and stability can only help Israel, as Iranian intransigence will result in its international isolation. Moreover, this reconciliation—regardless of how meaningful it ultimately will be—has not duped Riyadh into believing that its many years of problems with Iran are behind it.

A decade ago, the late Saudi king Abdullah urged the United States to “cut off the head of the [Iranian] snake,” and that was before Iran had developed the sophisticated nuclear weapons capabilities that it has today. And it was only in September 2019 that Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps plotted and then executed a targeted drone attack on Saudi oil facilities that halved the kingdom’s oil production. In 2022, ballistic missiles and drones launched by the Iranian-backed Houthis in Yemen were raining down on Saudi and Emirati cities with increasing regularity.

Just yesterday, one day before Saudi Arabia and Iran decided to allegedly bury the hatchet, Riyadh offered to normalize its relations with Israel in exchange for the United States guaranteeing Saudi security and aiding the Saudi nuclear program. One cannot help but ask why the U.S. military should commit to defending Saudi Arabia in exchange for something the Saudis are already doing and have a strong national interest in continuing. Yet it is also evident that “American weakness” is not what is pushing the Saudis to reduce tensions with Iran. The Saudis live in a dangerous region—occasionally made more dangerous by their own hands—and they will continue to diversify their relationships and seek security where they can.

In fact, even a U.S. security guarantee would not pull the Saudis decisively back into the U.S. camp, solve all the problems afflicting the Saudi-U.S. relationship, or end Riyadh’s efforts to reach a new security architecture with Iran. Instead, it will only codify the United States’ responsibility to defend Saudi Arabia, tying America’s soldiers to Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s high tolerance for risk, and additionally comprise the United States by further involving it in the kingdom’s human rights abuses at home and abroad. It would also further stack the deck against Iran by formally throwing the weight of one of the world’s two superpowers behind Tehran’s foremost Islamic rival, thereby increasing the impetus for the Iranians to develop nuclear arms. If the United States is truly interested in supporting stability and competing with China in the Middle East, it needs to carefully extract itself from the region’s morass, not dive deeper in.

Adam Lammon is a former executive editor at The National Interest and an analyst of Middle Eastern affairs based in Washington, DC. The opinions expressed in this article are his own. Follow him on Twitter @AdamLammon

Image: Claudio Divizia/Shutterstock.

During the Cold War and well into the twenty-first century, some governments, military analysts, academics, and even novelists anticipated a third world war that could involve a global nuclear holocaust growing out of a crisis between Russians and Americans. A failure of deterrence between the two sides, however unlikely, could have unleashed unprecedented destruction that would have put at risk the entirety of human civilization. As one writer put it, the survivors would envy the dead—an outcome that never happened because President Ronald Reagan, building on the policies of presidents from Harry Truman to Jimmy Carter, seized the moment to work with the Soviet Union, a policy embraced by his successors, including President Joe Biden. But, as he has pointed out, the Russian response to the U.S.-led Western support of Ukraine has increased the risk of a broader conflict.

Russia’s conflict against the people of Ukraine, now in its second year, is a war about political legitimacy and human rights. It is being fought across the globe by civilian and military “warriors” armed with ideas, economic strategies, and kinetic weapons. It is a conflict in which the very existence of liberal democracy and the international rules-based order is at stake. Who prevails in this war will determine whether international law, consensual government, and human decency will thrive and succeed in a region that is now free but was once part of the former Soviet Union.

This slow-rolling version of a new global conflict, as opposed to a nearly instant global apocalypse, is already in progress in Eastern Europe. Russia’s war against Ukraine is not only a series of tactical military engagements—Vladimir Putin is also fighting a war against the very foundations of the existing European system of states that once invited him to join, and the heritage of Western civilization. His concept of “Eurasianism” would replace a European order built on political democracy and market economics with one imposed by a Russian autocracy based on a twenty-first-century version of the former Russian empire. Unlike China, which has built financial institutions that could integrate into the Western economy, the Russian leader never developed the tools to allow for a broader economic integration with the rest of Europe. Instead, he isolated the Russian economy in a financial structure that he controls but is stagnant. This is both a power struggle and a war over values. Putin sees the democratic West as not only holding Russia back from rebuilding its former greatness, but also offering to the world a decadent set of political and moral guidelines and guardrails.

Unfortunately, Putin is not alone in his willingness to put aside the values of the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the Enlightenment in favor of authoritarianism, imperialism, and autocracy. China, which the Biden administration and the Pentagon define as a pacing threat, is also attempting to expand its global influence and military power in order to reduce American influence in the Indo-Pacific region. Their recent surge of surveillance gathering balloons and other hostile intelligence collection activity is part and parcel of its current national security strategy. While Russia has placed its kinetic hitting power at the front end of its war against the West, China has preferred to develop strategic dependencies on Beijing via the Belt and Road Initaitive to the control of global infrastructure. As China’s military power increases, alongside the growing influence of its economic globalization, some of its leaders seek to position it once again to a position of global primacy akin to the Middle Kingdom—an outlook that the United States needs to keep in mind as we try to engage with them on global challenges, like climate change and food security.

In addition to China, Russia’s war against Ukraine is also supported by Iran and North Korea. They share a common dislike for the United States and its European and Asian allies, based not only on strategic calculation, but also on values antithetical to democratic pluralism. Their leaders identify themselves with unabashed ambitions for autocratic rule and military expansion, and are equally dismissive of human rights and accountability for abuses of power. Like all autocracies and authoritarian regimes, when challenged by dissident forces within their own societies, they place blame for their failures on foreign influence. In addition, Iran and North Korea support terrorism and subversion of other regimes and, in the latter case, issue repeatedly bellicose nuclear threats against neighboring states and others. But China’s reliance on a coalition that includes Iran and North Korea greatly threatens China’s current partnership with countries like Israel.

However, the current war over ideas does not only depend on the behavior of foreign state or non-state actors, relative to the interests of the United States and other Western democracies. The war of ideas is also being waged within Western democracies themselves. Proponents of anti-democratic ideas are finding willing audiences in the United States and elsewhere because of the ubiquitous means of global communication made available by modern technology. Some “apps” even offer seductive political content and messaging that can divide people against one another based on ideology, nationality, ethnicity, or other characteristics. A flood of divisive philosophical sewerage spills over from the basements of hatemongers into the higher reaches of foreign offices. The ability to create nearly instantaneous mobs of rage over misdescribed or otherwise sensationalized versions of events can create civil strife that places political order in imminent jeopardy. Terrorists no longer are limited to blowing up buildings. With modern technology, they can blow up national consensus on the most precious values that separate barbarians and autocrats from legitimate democratic leaders.

In sum: Vladimir Putin’s war against Western civilization, under the banner of reborn Eurasianism, is, in theory and in practice, a rearward march into a worse world. The current struggle is being fought within and across the boundaries of states, including the clash between the best ideas about civil society and the worst distortions of history’s lessons. It is important to remember that bad ideas can destroy just like smart bombs, which is why the Biden administration must keep its contacts with Russia open and its nuclear modernization program going.

Lawrence Korb is a Senior Fellow at the Center for American Progress and a former Assistant Secretary of Defense.

Stephen Cimbala is a Distinguished Professor of Political Science at Penn State, Brandywine.

Image: Shutterstock.

The forthcoming 2022 National Military Strategy’s (NMS) organizing principle is “strategic discipline.” Its “Theory of Success is to exercise Strategic Discipline to continuously calibrate Joint Force weight of effort between campaigning and rapidly building warfighting advantage to deter now and reduce future risk.” The inherent challenge with implementing this NMS is that strategic discipline requires senior military leaders to make hard choices and accept risk. They must go against the intrinsic incentive to prioritize their “watch” versus that of their successors. Strategic discipline contradicts leaders’ natural inclination and requires a truly strategic perspective that gives the future force a vote. This type of prioritization is an attribute that pundits claim is often lacking in national strategy documents. The 2022 NMS recognizes the Joint Force can't do everything well and won't try. Instead, it outlines clear, classified guidance for high thresholds of areas when and where the Joint Force will not assume risk; everywhere else it will. 

While leading the Joint Staff’s development of the 2022 NMS and attempting to ensure it drives future budget choices, I found it helpful to figuratively “run to the sound of the guns.” Young Army leaders in combat arms branches are taught this enables them to direct troops and assets to influence the battle from the critical place. Positioning themselves where they can observe key developments and direct fire and maneuver against enemy forces enables tactical leaders to make important decisions to prioritize how, when, and where to best overcome enemy advances and accomplish the mission. During the drafting of the NMS, we had to practice this same technique at the strategic level. We ran into friction points regarding differing perspectives on critical threat-related matters and uncertainty regarding the impact of the ongoing war in Ukraine. To resolve those conflicts, “tunning to the sound of the guns”—instead of shying away from the differences, always holding to our original position, or embracing least common denominator consensus positions—proved more effective. 

As anyone who has led similar efforts will attest, the development of important national military documents tends to pit strong-willed combatant commanders, service chiefs, policy leaders, and their staffs against each other. Adjudicating between their arguments can be a knife fight because the ultimate language either makes or breaks each organization’s future resource fight. Thus, informed by where they “sit,” leaders and staff members want important documents to prioritize certain threats and missions. Others recognize that they are the economy of force effort but attempt to have their command’s tasks added on as barnacles to various sections. It’s the military’s version of congressional “pork barrel” spending. It primarily benefits the “local interests” of one command by translating into more resources down the road while deluding the finances, manpower, and time available for the most important missions.

Time for Strategic Discipline

To avoid such diffusion of Joint Force resources, and despite the desire to be inclusive, we recognized that the NMS couldn’t be a consensus document, or it would be worthless. It had to make difficult choices and prioritize key missions over others. It does so, in the chairman’s words, by “biasing the future over the present.” General Mark Milley’s guidance is that the Joint Force will do that by emphasizing “strategic discipline” in calibrating between strategic ways of “Building Warfighting Advantage and Campaigning,” generally rebalancing toward the former versus the latter. 

The Joint Force has campaigned against near-term threats from violent extremist organizations for the past two decades. It has recognized for more than a decade the urgent need to modernize and prioritize preparation for a great-power war, part of what is meant by building warfighting advantage. The time has come for the pendulum to swing toward building warfighting advantage (a service-centric responsibility) while not neglecting the current campaigning necessary to deter adversaries as well as assure allies and partners (a combatant command mission). 

As then-director of the Joint Staff J-5, Vice Admiral Lisa Franchetti pointed out to the NMS development team, despite the decade-long recognition of a need to rebalance toward the Pacific and China that the Joint Force has struggled to prioritize accordingly. There is limited evidence of “strategic discipline” over that period. Nor has there been much in the way of building a warfighting advantage against great powers. Yet we realized the continuing and dire need for it. Thus, “strategic discipline” became the 2022 NMS’ organizing principle and central idea. I leveraged Franchetti’s insights with the NMS Council of Colonels working group, indicating that the military did not want to find itself in the same predicament in another ten years.

Running to the Sound of the Guns

As my team developed the 2022 National Military Strategy (NMS), we “ran to the sound of the guns” in a figurative and unconventional manner—and the strategy is better off for it. We obviously were not locked in mortal combat with the enemy as we outlined the NMS’ sections or penned its words. For us, running to the sound of the guns meant embracing the tension of different viewpoints on important issues. We came to realize that running to—instead of away—from such tension was where the figurative “money” was to be made.

Running away from the friction would have been easier. By running away, we could have tried to ignore the friction, include all the input we received, or allowed the NMS to be a consensus document. But seeking out the friction, asking “why” it existed, and what was behind each side’s recommendations was figuratively “running to the sound of the guns” in a way that made the NMS better. The friction points, where the “sound of the guns” was loudest, are where the decisive points were. It was in trying to decipher differing views that we could usually find a more creative, accurate, or just plain better solution. 

By so doing we positioned ourselves—like tactical leaders who’ve moved to the “sound of the guns” and can best influence the battle—to leverage the strongest assets we had for the greatest gain. On the battlefield, the most critical assets can be those that are the most lethal, like cannons, tanks, attack aviation, close air support, and armed drones. Other times, it may be the intelligence asset which provides the enemy’s location. Still other times it’s the logistics supply chain that provides much need ammunition, fuel, food, water, or other supplies. On other occasions, engineers that open a way through the obstacles may be most important. Our strongest assets were superb and contrasting input from the services, combatant commands, and Joint Staff. 

I didn’t always view the input of those outside the core writing team as our strongest assets. After a couple of times working through contrary opinions that caused us to rethink whether we had it right, it dawned on me: such mental gymnastics was often the key to success. We needed contrasting input to such tough questions as: Which country posed the greatest threat and in what ways? What other threats were worth mentioning? How could various threats be mentioned without diluting the Joint Force’s effort? How focused could the NMS be without causing the Joint Force to be surprised by a future threat? What was the Joint Force most likely to face from various threats? (The answers to these questions are classified, so I don’t address them here.)

Wrestling with difficult questions, and the dissenting opinions and contradictory input to answer those questions, was only one form of friction. Being ready for chairman touchpoints was another, completely different type. The team made sure we always had products ready to show our progress and several key questions ready should we be called to the chairman’s office on fifteen minutes’ notice. That was our effort to plan ahead for success and avoid the internal friction that comes from a lack of preparation. It ensured we were able to ask and receive the guidance we most needed at each point to continue developing the NMS within the chairman’s intent. 

Before these meetings, we dealt with what some would have deemed as the “too little guidance” friction point by leveraging Milley’s existing public record of speeches and posture testimony instead of wringing our hands. We then read between the lines and connected the strategic dots to move forward until we received confirmation of our direction or guidance steering us along a different azimuth. The chairman’s repeated public emphasis on the importance of modernization, not just of technology-centric platforms but also of novel concepts, is one area in this category. As Milley often champions, it is the side that best anticipates the character of future war and integrates new concepts with emerging capabilities and leader-directed training that enters the next war with an advantage. It doesn’t stop there. Strategy is iterative. The side that adapts most rapidly during wars retains or regains the advantage. We took this and developed three of our ten Joint Force tasks based on this guidance. Though Milley never told us to do that directly, he had indirectly. Guidance from our chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff meetings subsequently enabled proper prioritization when gathering input from the services (including the Coast Guard and the National Guard Bureau), the combatant commands, the Joint Staff Directorates, the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD), and the State Department.

Developing the NMS while the Office of the Secretary of Defense was still writing the National Defense Strategy (NDS) presented its own friction-like challenges. How could we work with our “higher headquarters” in parallel, without lagging far behind? We had conducted an NMS speaker series for almost a year (fall 2020 to summer 2021) prior to our official kick-off in August 2021. We had guidance that at times seemed to contradict what we saw developing in the NDS. We handled these friction points by having a representative on the NDS team; a robust, prior, ongoing, and trusted set of relationships between our staff and the team from the Office of the Secretary of Defense; periodic sharing of drafts; attending each other’s working groups, Operational Deputies, Tanks, and Deputy Management Action Group (DMAG) meetings; and by deferring to NDS language in some cases. In other cases, as with other friction points, we arbitrated between arguments by returning to the organizing principle of strategic discipline and the chairman’s guidance. 

Trying to finalize the NMS during the ongoing war in Ukraine presented a final friction point as well as important questions that the team needed to address. Would the commander-in-chief send the U.S. military to intervene with boots on the ground? Even if not, how much had the war changed the security environment as defined in the NMS? Had defense priorities changed in order of relative importance? Did major lethal aid contributions from the United States demonstrate or contradict strategic discipline? We handled this friction point by asking the hard questions of the strategy, even if it would require major changes. We also showed Milley how we had updated the draft NMS based on the war in Ukraine and prioritized or aligned it with the then Interim National Security Strategic Guidance, the NDS, and his own guidance.

Concluding Outcomes

The National Military Strategy anticipates a great power conflict while pursuing ways to deter it. It attempts to remedy past failures to improve future readiness. It points us toward an approach that prioritizes warfighting preparedness and provides a risk management framework across both time and space. By prioritizing a single organizing principle, we avoided a least common denominator strategy. In other words, we avoided seeking a comfortable consensus in favor of strategic coherence. And by iterating with stakeholders throughout, we learned that contradictory input not only makes strategy development difficult, but it also provides opportunities “to run to the sound of the guns” and refine those ideas, ultimately producing a better strategy.

Colonel Bryan Groves is the Commanders’ Initiatives Group (CIG) Chief at U.S. Army Forces Command. Previously, during the development of the 2022 NMS, Bryan was the Strategy Development Division Chief on the Joint Staff (J-5). His team was responsible for stewarding its development, with primary input from the Services and Combatant Commands, on behalf of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Mark Milley.

Image: DVIDS.