The National Interest

Though Ukraine was the focus of this year’s Munich Security Conference, interesting developments regarding a different conflict in Russia’s near abroad occurred on the sidelines of the conference: the Amernia-Azerbaijan conflict.

On February 18, Armenian prime minister Nikol Pashinyan and Azerbaijani president Ilham Aliyev held talks at a meeting hosted by U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken. Both leaders took the opportunity to discuss a number of important issues: the draft peace treaty between the two states, the delimitation of inter-state borders, and the opening of transportation communications.

This, of course, was not the first time such a high-level meeting between the two leaders was mediated by a third party—what differed this time around however was who was meditating between the two.

For a long period of time, Russia was the principal mediator between Armenia and Azerbaijan. However, since 2021, this role has been contested by the European Union. Moreover, due to the war in Ukraine, the OSCE Minsk Group—which since the 1990s has held the mandate to assist in negotiating a peaceful settlement between Armenia and Azerbaijan but was widely regarded as a failure—has effectively ceased to function.

Russia has not been receptive to this change: it has repeatedly criticized the EU’s mediation efforts, accusing the West of attempting “to hijack Armenian-Azerbaijani peace talks.” On February 17, the spokeswoman of the Russian foreign ministry, Maria Zakharova, expressed skepticism that U.S. mediation has “any added value.”

The change in meditator is important to consider, as Russia and the West have different motives to get involved in these peace talks—and these motives can shape negotiation outcomes in the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict. 

Russian Motives

As the traditional hegemonic power in the South Caucasus and arbiter in the decades-long Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, Russia is inclined to cling to preserving its regional dominance. At the moment, its primary mechanism for doing so is by trying to extend the presence of its peacekeeping contingent, deployed after the end of the Second Karabakh War in 2020. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, however, threatens its influence in the South Caucasus—the war is draining away Moscow’s military power and economic resources. Moscow worries that its declining influence will upset the region’s balance of power. The West, along with local middle-sized powers like Türkiye, have stepped into this breach and are seizing the opportunity to extend their influence in this strategically important region.  

The Kremlin realizes that, once the conflict’s two belligerents come to a basic agreement, Moscow’s involvement will become redundant. The Russian peacekeeping troops deployed in 2020 have a fixed term ending in 2025—though an extension is theoretically possible. Baku, however, has made it clear that it considers the presence of these peacekeepers on its internationally recognized territory to be a temporary affair, and will not endorse an extension beyond 2025.

In other words, if Armenia and Azerbaijan reach an agreement under Western auspices, Russia’s influence in the region would be significantly degraded. For that reason, Moscow seeks to preserve its influence in the following ways:

First, Moscow seeks a long-term military presence on the ground. For that, it requires the occasional flare-up of inter-ethnic tensions in order to justify maintaining Russian peacekeepers in the Karabakh region. 

Second, Moscow can further justify its presence by dividing Armenian political unity. It is conceivable, for example, that the Kremlin-orchestrated arrival of the Russian oligarch Ruben Vardanyan (who is of Armenia origin) is part of a scheme to only inflame tensions between local Armenians and Azerbaijan, but also to drive a wedge between Karabakh Armenians and the Western-leaning government in Yerevan. Vardanyan’s arrival caused a major standoff on the Lachin road between Azerbaijani government-backed activists and Karabakh Armenians—which only serves to further justify the presence of Russian peacekeepers.  

Third, Moscow’s plan for a peace treaty contains a provision postponing resolving the status of Karabakh. In the words of the Russian envoy to Yerevan, “the status of Nagorno-Karabakh is an issue that should be left to the next generation.” This ambiguity provides Moscow with additional leverage in future bargaining with Baku.

Western Mediation

Since 2021, there have been complementary efforts by the Biden administration in the United States and European Council president Charles Michel to play an increasingly active role in mediating between Baku and Yerevan.

Both the United States and the EU are interested in ending the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict, as its unresolved status has been a major stumbling block in the South Caucasus’ emancipation from Russia’s imperial projections of power. If the conflict were to be partly or fully resolved, it would undermine Moscow by removing the underlying source of Russian leverage in the region. 

Additionally, the West is also pursuing its own interests by seeking to extend its influence in this traditionally Russia-linked sub-region. Due to geographic location and historic ties, Russia views this region as a key element of its strategy to avoid complete isolation. The West wants to reverse this by turning both Armenia and Azerbaijan away from Russia’s sphere of influence. 

Finally, both the United States and EU believe that the normalization of ties between Baku and Yerevan depends upon the mutual recognition of territorial integrity and emphasizing the rights and security of ethnic Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh. Western mediators are concerned about the fate of this Armenian population once it is fully re-integrated into Azerbaijan proper. Therefore, since mid-2022, both Washington and Brussels have proposed direct talks between Baku and representatives of the Armenian community in Xankəndi—which local Armenians call by its Soviet name, Stepanakert—with the intention of establishing credible guarantees. Promisingly, at this year’s Munich Security Conference, Aliyev stated that “it was agreed with our international partners that there will be discussions on the rights and security of the Armenian minority in Karabakh.”

What’s Next?

Which peace treaty proposal will prevail hinges upon what is acceptable to both Armenia and Azerbaijan, and the capacity of the mediator in being able to support a peace deal. So far, the EU and the United States seem to be outcompeting Russia in this regard. Azerbaijan will definitely favor the West’s proposal, which calls upon both sides to respect each other’s territorial integrity, and rejects the Russian proposal that risks delaying the status issue. Armenia, on the other hand, prefers the Russian proposal, though the Pashinyan government is cognizant of the risks associated with tying its future security with Russia. Despite its bilateral security alliance with Russia and its membership in the Russia-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), the CSTO proved to be unreliable when Armenian troops clashed with the Azerbaijani military along the inter-state border—and the latter reportedly captured some strategic heights inside the Armenian territory—in September last year. This triggered the search for alternative security allies, and ultimately the establishment of a new two-year EU Mission in Armenia (EUMA). While the mission raised eyebrows in Russia and Azerbaijan, it could actually incentivize Yerevan to pursue a peace proposal offered by the West.  

The competing logics of third-party interests will interfere and might complicate the process of reaching a final agreement unless Russia is completely exhausted by its war efforts in Ukraine. Once Russia stops scheming against a peace treaty, the chances are that the sides will finally agree on a lasting peace.

Farid Guliyev, Ph.D., is a Lecturer in Comparative Politics at the Department of Political Science and Philosophy at Khazar University in Baku. The views expressed herein are solely the responsibility of the author.

Image: Sameer Madhukar Chogale/Shutterstock.

In 1908, a young member of the British Parliament named Winston Spencer Churchill was trekking through Uganda when a tsetse fly settled on his shoulder. Though he knew he was traveling through a region where the tsetse fly had already killed hundreds of thousands of people, Churchill had nonetheless tired of the protective veil he and the other members of his party had been obliged to wear, and so took it off to better enjoy the view of Murchison Falls on the Victoria Nile. As he recounted in My African Journey, the sight of the tsetse, with its distinctive, long proboscis and large wings folded peculiarly on top of each other, frightened him into redonning his veil. Then, as now, the tsetse fly carried sleeping sickness, a parasitic disease that attacks the patient’s nervous system until he or she becomes totally insensible and eventually impossible to wake up. The formidable young rising star of British politics found himself humbled by nature’s power and corrected course. Had he not, the British Empire might never have found the hero it needed in its hour of crisis thirty-two years later, and present-day readers might not have stumbled upon this colorful analogy for present-day American policy in East Africa.

Observers of the United States’ listless Africa policy might well conclude that American policymakers are suffering from sleeping sickness, which is characterized by a brief period of feverish activity before the patient grows lethargic and ever harder to rouse. In Africa, nations are broadly realigning away from the United States and toward Russia or China. This is especially true of sub-Saharan Africa, where cycles of increasingly frequent droughts and intense floods have exacerbated long-simmering tensions from ethnic conflict to Islamic insurgencies. Now, just a few weeks after President Joe Biden’s much-vaunted U.S.-Africa Leaders Summit, Russia looks set to replace France as the guarantor of West African security, China is touting the transformative impact of its infrastructure projects, and the United States, despite all its money and military might, finds itself overshadowed by Pope Francis’s visit to East Africa in early February.

However, the worsening crisis in an oft-ignored African nation, the world’s youngest, has the potential to catapult the United States back into a position of influence in Africa. That country is an oil-rich and strife-ridden nation which briefly entered global news cycles as part of Pope Francis’s pilgrimage to it and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. That country is South Sudan.

A Neglected Strategic Player

South Sudan, though somewhat obscure in comparison to its more notorious northern neighbor, enjoys an important geostrategic position: it bridges East and North Africa, and possesses vast reserves of oil, copper, and gold, in addition to fertile soil, a sizable stretch of the Nile River, and its immense hydroelectric potential. Yet currently, South Sudan sits at the bottom of every human development ranking—for the most part, due to protracted conflict between rival ethnic groups that receive funding from countries with an interest in the region’s resources.

Part of America’s strategy for containing China’s growth involves denying China access to Africa’s mineral wealth, so South Sudan should loom large on the Biden administration’s list of priorities in Africa. Furthermore, just as Burkina Faso is the linchpin of West African security because it separates the Islamic State in Africa from Boko Haram, South Sudan’s stability is necessary to prevent the Somali jihadist organization Al-Shabab from spreading into more of East Africa.

Yet the United States’ current approach leaves much to be desired. Consider, for example, the results of its de facto approach of handing off responsibility for addressing many of the country’s various ills to non-governmental organizations (NGOs).

Though some humanitarian organizations and NGOs have a presence in South Sudan, their investment has proven ineffective. As the New Humanitarian reports, donors prefer to see their funds invested in short-term projects, such as random conferences and dialogues that do not involve any real power players. Additionally, the restrictions imposed upon NGOs on where they can go and whom they can invite to their events means that individuals that are actually involved in local conflicts, such as militants and tribal leaders, who often have divergent interests, are excluded from engaging in dialogue. Compounding this situation is the fact that, as reported earlier this month in the Guardian, local NGOs increasingly find their aid distribution programs hamstrung by an overabundance of short-term grants and a scarcity of long-term contracts. These long-term contracts, if they were available, would enable NGOs to plan more effective campaigns, or make the investments necessary to increase their impact, particularly in the most isolated and at-risk communities.

What America Can Do

The present situation represents a strong opportunity for the United States to both address the needs of the South Sudanese people and fortify America’s strategic position on the African continent. There are five ways this can be done.

First, the United States can provide military and security assistance that can act as a force multiplier for local initiatives already underway in South Sudan but otherwise almost certainly doomed due to lack of funding and poor management. Such assistance and expertise can help provide a stable context in which productive and peace-seeking dialogues, such as between armed youths and people from communities long hostile to each other, can occur.

Second, the United States can use its diplomatic strength to help facilitate negotiations between the South Sudanese government and its neighbors. For example, since 1963, South Sudan has been locked in a border dispute with Kenya over the Ilemi Triangle—a disputed region rich in petroleum and water. Despite peace initiatives managed by the African Union, the region often erupts in violent border skirmishes, much like South Sudan’s decades-long standoff with Sudan over the Abiyei oil fields.

Third, the United States can help fund the long-term contracts that local NGOs need to maximize aid delivery and programmatic effectiveness. Moreover, America can deploy homegrown programs and funding to incentivize cooperation between Sudanese elites and hold them accountable to any agreements they might reach. South Sudan is one of the most corrupt countries in the world, as evinced by a report promulgated by The Sentry, an advocacy organization. 

Fourth, the United States can provide development assistance—which is essential to security, as robust economies provide options for youths who might otherwise join an insurgent group out of desperation. Here, Washington would do well to replicate the success of the President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR) model, and provide expertise and training to local leaders before handing off the day-to-day administration of programs to them as part of a focus on leadership and community development.

Fifth, the United States should call upon a powerful, globally respected figure with unmatched moral authority for help. In this, they will find an ally in his holiness Pope Francis, who has set his sights on achieving peace in South Sudan. As reported in the New York Times, the two-day visit of Pope Francis in early February, as part of an ecumenical pilgrimage with the leaders of the Church of England and Church of Scotland, shone a light on the deep divisions and seemingly intractable problems facing the fledgling nation.

Roman Catholics constitute 52.4 percent of South Sudan’s population, while other Christian denominations make up roughly 8 percent. Cooperation with the Pope and other major figures in the Christian world would help to make up for the United States’ lack of moral authority in the region, which is still reeling from the abortive American intervention in Somalia of 1992–1993, its limited response to the 2004 genocide in Darfur, and other embroglios. Additionally, the Catholic Church has a strong presence on the ground in South Sudan, as do churches in the Anglican Communion and various ecumenical groups. Many in the religious community have undertaken heroic efforts to help communities recover from the violence, including a single nun, Sister Gracy, who managed to establish several schools and medical facilities with minimal international support. The United States could greatly assist South Sudan by helping identify and support such driven and talented individuals. The Catholic Church—with its distributed networks of churches, community centers, almshouses, and other initiatives—would prove indispensable to such deeply local work.

In short, the United States alone has the material resources to match the Pope’s spiritual authority; together, they could help impose order and begin to restore South Sudan by building basic infrastructure such as sewage systems, roads, and electric grids.

The President Following the Pope?

The ingredients for success in South Sudan are undoubtedly present if President Joe Biden decides to take on a larger role in East Africa. Military solutions to social problems have not yielded lasting peace in recent years, if the U.S. interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan are any indication. Indeed, while its oldest ally, France, waged a heroic, decade-long counterterrorism operation in the continent, the United States fell back on its default position of militarizing the surrounding regions and wringing its hands when underequipped militants overpowered government forces and upgraded their equipment on Uncle Sam’s dime.

In his inaugural address, Biden opened with a commitment to demonstrate “renewal and resolve.” His unflagging support for Ukraine in the face of Russian aggression has demonstrated an appetite for justice and the steely will to stand by his commitments. If he steers the formidable might of the American foreign policy apparatus toward achieving peace in South Sudan, he might well find that Africa’s nations will welcome America’s moral leadership.

If President Biden follows Pope Francis into South Sudan and achieves even limited success, he might find other African nations eager to hear what he has planned next. If he allows this opportunity to slip, however, he might find himself unpleasantly surprised by the geopolitical equivalent of a tsetse fly on his shoulder.

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

Image: Tudoran Andrei/Shutterstock.

Not long ago, one of my students asked: “So, if my phone tells me the Russians have used nuclear weapons in Ukraine, should I do anything different here?” In other words: should I head for the hills?

My answer is “no.” The U.S. and Russian governments know full well that lobbing nuclear weapons at each other would be suicidal—each has enough powerful, survivable nuclear weapons to obliterate the other as a functioning society. No one is going to march down that road on purpose.

But it’s a nervous “no,” because the key lesson of the crises of the last several decades is that there is a fog of crisis, just as there is a fog of war, and things can happen that no leader originally intended. And in this case, thinking about how the United States might respond to Russian nuclear use makes clear just how rapidly things could get very dicey.

The danger that Russia might turn to nuclear weapons is real. So far, Russian president Vladimir Putin has found it in his interest to talk a big game about possibly using nuclear weapons—while instructing his government to deny that any of his nuclear threats ever happened—but not to actually do very much. Russia’s nuclear weapons have not been placed on high alert, and the short-range “tactical” nuclear weapons most likely to be used in Ukraine have not been moved from their central storage facilities. But Putin can’t afford to lose this war, having spent tens of thousands of Russian lives on it, and he now has few realistic options to win. Putin knows there would be huge costs and risks from crossing the nuclear threshold, but if the choice was between that and a humiliating defeat that might cause him to lose power, he might well reach for the nuclear button.

Using nuclear weapons would be unlikely to result in major gains on the battlefield. The Ukrainians haven’t been concentrating forces in ways that make them vulnerable to nuclear blasts, and most targets that could be destroyed with nuclear weapons could be destroyed with Russia’s conventional missiles and drones.

But Putin might believe that a nuclear attack could force the Ukrainians to capitulate. He might, for example, use a handful of nuclear weapons on the battlefield and then say: “Unless you agree to Russia’s terms, Kharkiv is next, and then Odessa, and then…” Putin has referred to the “precedent” the United States set in dropping nuclear weapons on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and then demanding Japan surrender.

President Joe Biden’s national security advisor, Jake Sullivan, has publicly warned that if Russia were to use nuclear weapons, the response would be “catastrophic” for Russia, and has offered Russia more specifics in private. The difficulty is coming up with a response severe enough to match the outrage of the use of nuclear weapons but not so severe as to create massive escalation risks with a state ruled by a leader desperate enough to launch a nuclear strike despite the warnings.

As Sullivan’s blunt warning makes clear, the Biden administration is considering responses that include not just political condemnation and additional sanctions but also military action. Most U.S. analysts and officials are not talking about using nuclear weapons in response, but rather conventional strikes—perhaps not on the Russian homeland given the risks of nuclear retaliation that might entail, but on Russian forces in Ukraine and elsewhere.

For better or for worse, that would make the United States a direct belligerent in the war. That is exactly what Biden has been trying to avoid, fearing, as he puts it, that direct U.S.-Russian fighting would lead to “World War III.” Russia would almost certainly strike back in some way, in part to deter the United States from going any further. That, then, would call into play Article V of the NATO treaty, under which an attack on one is an attack on all. From there, things could get very ugly, very fast. There can be little confidence that every action by every military unit could be carefully controlled, and every intended signal understood.

As one example, if U.S. strikes really were “catastrophic” for Russia, Russian forces in Ukraine would be greatly weakened. Ukrainian forces would have a dramatic new opportunity to surge forward. Russia’s diminished forces might not be able to stop them, which might then lead Putin to reach for the nuclear button again.

The longer the war continues, the more people will die and the more the nuclear danger will rise. It is time to work with Ukraine to begin exploring a negotiated end to the conflict. That’s not likely to happen soon, though, as both sides are optimistic that they might end up in a stronger position after more fighting. To reduce the risk of catastrophic escalation, the Biden team needs to continue using tabletop exercises to game out different scenarios, going several steps in to consider all the dangers and implications. And the Biden administration must continue exploring how it could reassure a paranoid Putin, even in such an awful situation, that the United States will not escalate further if Russia does not and won’t take action to destroy Russia or oust Putin from power.

Any use of nuclear weapons would pose devastating dangers. The United States and its allies need to find ways to reduce the danger, and they need to think several steps ahead in considering how they would respond to Russian nuclear use and what they should say to Russia now to convince it not to consider going down the nuclear road. Biden should continue to do everything he can to make sure the seventy-seven-year-old nuclear taboo continues.

Matthew Bunn is the James R. Schlesinger Professor of the Practice of Energy, National Security, and Foreign Policy at Harvard Kennedy School and Co-Principal Investigator for the Project on Managing the Atom at the Kennedy School's Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs.

Image: Fasttailwind/Shutterstock.com.

When Beijing announced recently that China’s population shrank, media outlets rightly gave the news attention. The coverage widely speculated that a shrinking population might somehow threaten China’s ambition to become the world’s dominant economy. Though most of these stories lacked clarity on whys and wherefores, they were nonetheless on the mark. When demographic trends are considered in detail—those whys and wherefores—Chinese demographics rises to become the single biggest economic event in decades, one that will significantly retard the pace of China’s development. The once-dominant perception of China as an irresistible economic juggernaut will have to change.

The figures recently released by China’s official statistics agency are striking enough on the surface. They show a drop in the nation’s population by some 850,000 since the last census. Working from these figures, United Nations (UN) demographers foresee future population declines, from 1.4 billion people presently to 1.3 billion in 2050, to 800 million or so by the end of the century. India will surpass China as the world’s most populous nation in less than a decade. And there is little China can do to stop the trend. More significantly, there is also little that Beijing can do to mitigate the trend’s retarding effects on the nation’s economic prospects.

The crucial economic factor in this demographic picture is less the gross population trend and more the acute shortage of working-age people facing China. Thanks to Beijing’s decades-long imposition of a one-child policy on Chinese families—for the last forty-five years, until recently—the nation now faces an acute shortage of young workers to replace the huge generation that is now retiring. The numbers of those of working age—by convention, between fifteen and sixty-four years old—have in fact hardly grown at all since 2010. But the older population of retirement age has grown a whopping 53 percent, increasing from 9 percent of the total population in 2010 to 13 percent at last measure. There are, as a consequence, barely 3.5 percent of working-age people today available to support each retiree, down from about 6.5 percent in 2000 and 5.5 percent in 2010. And that figure is expected to fall below 2.3 percent by 2030 and even lower in the years following. 

To grasp the economic significance of this situation, consider the burden on three workers. They must support themselves, their personal dependents, and a third of everything each retiree needs. No three workers anywhere, at least on average, are productive enough to shoulder this need. The economic strain will be much greater than what the raw numbers imply because the large aging population will necessarily siphon off workers from everyday production—exports, machinery, consumer items—to the medical and other care services needed by the elderly. This increasingly acute shortage of working hands and minds will deprive China of the surplus output and wealth essential to make the investments that this, or any economy, needs to develop—especially the grand projects for which China has become famous and which have so contributed to the country’s former and impressive pace of growth. 

What is more damaging is that these demographics will have significant and adverse financial implications as well. The pension needs of these retirees will force considerable borrowing on local governments as well as Beijing. China already carries a more considerable debt burden than most countries, including even the United States. At last measure, all debt—public and private—amounted to the equivalent of about $52 trillion, verging on three times the size of the economy. To be sure, Washington carries a larger debt burden than Beijing does, but that is because Beijing offloads borrowing needs—to support infrastructure spending for instance—onto local governments. Pension demands will increase this burden further still, and unavoidably crowd out the growth-fostering projects that in the past have done so much for China’s development.

There is little Beijing can do to offset these ill effects. A few years ago, the authorities finally awakened to the potential economic damage of the one-child policy. They rescinded the law and allowed larger families. But even if Chinese people had immediately taken advantage of that more liberal environment, it would take fifteen to twenty years before the change could have an effect on the relative size of the country’s working-age population. As it is, the nation’s fertility rate has not risen in response to the new law. Nor is China likely to see a wave of talented immigrants to enlarge the ranks of the working aged. On the contrary, China regularly experiences more out- than in-migration.

The only other avenue open for relief lies in increasing worker productivity. To this end, Beijing has emphasized the development and adoption of artificial intelligence (AI) and robotics. Indeed, China has become a world leader in these areas. No doubt in time these trends will substitute algorithms, computers, and machinery for labor and make the country’s relatively limited working population more productive than it is today. AI and robotics can also help by limiting the need for physical labor and thereby enabling Chinese to work at older ages than in the past. But these things can only go so far, not the least because their development requires heavy investment expenditures that China, with its working population already facing impossible demands, will have difficulty making. 

China’s pace of growth has already slowed markedly. Most sources estimate that the real economy expanded by only 2 percent last year. Covid lockdowns have rightly taken most of the blame for this radical shortfall from that economy’s historic pace of expansion. The economy’s reopening this year will likely produce a significant growth fillip. But behind such transitory gyrations, the ill effects of the country’s demographic reality will redouble. To be sure, China will maintain a significant economy even in the face of this reality, but neither its absolute size nor its pace of advance will come up to the once-popular outlook for Chinese economic dominance amid a powerful growth momentum.

Milton Ezrati is a contributing editor at The National Interest, an affiliate of the Center for the Study of Human Capital at the University at Buffalo (SUNY), and chief economist for Vested, the New York-based communications firm. His latest books are Thirty Tomorrows: The Next Three Decades of Globalization, Demographics, and How We Will Live and Bite-Sized Investing.

Image: Shutterstock.

One year on, the war in Ukraine is going through a phase of equilibrium. Ukraine has carried out significant counter-offensives but has failed to recover all its territories, including the Donbas and Crimea, both occupied since 2014. Russia, in turn, unable to advance any further, is limiting itself to maintaining its positions and continuing with war crimes, shelling electrical infrastructure and water dams in recent months.

The end of the war may thus not be as near as it seemed last fall, which underscores the importance of the multiple, parallel arenas where this conflict is being fought. The first “systemic” European war since 1945, as such it is, will have far-reaching effects in both time and space. 

A year later, this war implies three things. First, a strategic vision—that is to say, a geopolitical design for the future of Europe and the international system as a whole. And second, a communications struggle—namely, winning the narrative battle while cultivating empathy. On this latter point, it is revealing that the engagement levels and volume of posts from Russian state-controlled media have declined since the invasion began a year ago. And third, soon, this war might also entail an international legal dispute.

Convenient for Russia, the current status quo is not an option for Ukraine. Invaded illegally and unprovoked, stripped of territories internationally recognized as its own, and with a decimated economy, Ukraine was forced to produce a shift in the current military balance decidedly in its favor. But although Putin’s attempt at occupying the country has failed, let alone the chimera of annexing it, the current stalemate nonetheless makes a free, democratic, and firmly aligned-with-the-West Ukraine impossible.

In this sense, it is auspicious that—finally—Germany has approved the shipment of the Leopard tanks and the United States of the Abrams while neutral Switzerland has agreed to supply ammunition. Western delays and indecision have usually been justified by Putin’s threats to use nuclear weapons to respond to any escalation or direct NATO involvement in the conflict.

On the one hand, giving in to such threats is not conducive to the very peace and stability of the international system, and is contradictory to the new European reality. If Putin concludes that his nuclear threats are enough to emasculate Ukraine within an amputated geography and a fragmented sovereignty, that would only serve as an incentive for future invasions. It happened in Georgia in 2008, in Ukraine in 2014, and, outside of Europe, in Syria in 2015.

On the other hand, sustaining non-intervention ad infinitum is a flimsy argument, as the space for European neutrality has been significantly reduced. Indeed, with the accession of Finland and Sweden to NATO, due to Putin’s own fault, Russia’s border with NATO has effectively doubled. And precisely on the occasion of the application of these Nordic nations to NATO membership in May 2022, Putin threatened very serious reprisals that never occurred.

Europe and the world cannot live hostage to Russian imperial megalomania; the respective maps of NATO and the Union thus converge toward one. Perhaps Joe Biden’s trip to Kyiv signals the end of Western vacillations.

That is why this war represents a transcendental strategic challenge: rebuilding the international order and consolidating a united Europe in democracy and with a revitalized NATO. Ukraine’s victory is a necessary condition for resuming the post-Cold War project that was truncated in 1994. It was precisely by the Budapest Memorandum that Russia’s conditions were accepted: Kyiv handed over its nuclear arsenal and its applications to NATO and the European Union were shelved. That is when Ukraine was abandoned.

Ukraine today has won the battle of the narrative. Always wearing his olive-green attire, the charismatic Volodymyr Zelensky has become a symbol, rallying Europe behind his cause as rarely happened in history. But this is not enough, he himself repeats it in every meeting with the press and with foreign leaders. His prosecutor general, Andriy Kostin, did the same while in Washington and New York at the end of January. Tanks are welcome, he said, but Ukraine’s victory needs more money, fighter jets, and Western support in the arena of international law.

The Legal Arena

Ukraine needs more weapons, but it also needs allies for its legal initiatives. Kostin traveled abroad to seek support for the creation of a “special tribunal” to try Russian leaders for the crime of aggression. Introduced during the Nuremberg Tribunal in 1945 by Aron Trainin, paradoxically a Soviet jurist, the crime of aggression is one of the four established international crimes, along with war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide.

The Kostin’s office reports having documented 67,000 war crimes, including 155 cases of sexual violence. It also estimates that 15,000 children were kidnapped and deported to Russia; the forced transfer of the population is a crime against humanity. And he is working hard to document the crime of genocide—“the deliberate intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group.”

There is evidence of all three types of crimes, but the threshold of proof is very high, their documentation is laborious, and the identification of those responsible is not always crystal clear.

Proving the crime of aggression, however, is a simpler matter, since it defines responsibilities in terms of political decisions, thereby specifically charging political leaders. Thus, it is defined as “the use of armed force by a State against the sovereignty, territorial integrity or political independence of another State, or in any way that is inconsistent with the Charter of the United Nations.”

In other words, it is unequivocal: the crime of aggression occurs when another country is invaded without reason or prior provocation. The first special court for this purpose was that of Nuremberg in 1945. The one being proposed today is also inspired by the special courts of Yugoslavia, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, and Cambodia. That is why the Zelensky government has centered the discussion within international organizations, given the need to achieve a resolution in the United Nations General Assembly. It is the natural place for such, as a permanent member of the Security Council is itself violating the fundamental principles and provisions of the UN Charter.

Enter Latin America

The issue will also reach the American continent, where, unlike in Europe, it will be difficult to reach a consensus in favor of Ukraine’s position. This is for various reasons. There is a long history of “neutrality” in Latin America, almost always not out of principle but out of hypocrisy. The only country aligned with the Allies in World War II was Brazil. There was no shortage of countries that declared war on the Axis, but only after their capitulation.

Latin American duplicity is observed today in the position of several countries in relation to this conflict. Zelensky himself exposed the ethical and political miseries of the region. “Which side would Simon Bolivar be on in this war that Russia unleashed against Ukraine? Who would Jose de San Martin support? Who would Miguel Hidalgo sympathize with? I think they would not help someone who is just plundering a smaller country like a typical colonizer,” he told them in a video last October.

Timely indeed, as Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro always talks about “imperialism,” though its “American” imperialism. His problem though is that, in addition to thousands of Cuban intelligence officers, he has three Russian military bases on Venezuelan soil. Nicaragua’s Daniel Ortega as well, who in his recent speech declared he is still at war with the Contras. But last June, the Nicaraguan National Assembly authorized the entry of Russian military equipment and personnel into the country at his request. And of course, the Russian military presence in Cuba, still present, dates back to the Soviet era and continues.

Then there are the inconsistent governments who display contradictory positions in international forums: Bolivia always abstains on this issue, while Argentina, Brazil, and Mexico vote erratically on the Russian invasion of Ukraine in both the UN and the Organization of America States. Maintaining the status quo, or an eventual victory for Russia, would serve to further empower Putin-allied dictators. Ukraine’s victory, in contrast, is also necessary for the survival of democracy and the enforcement of human rights in Latin America.

The Maduro regime is under investigation for crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Court; there are complaints against the Ortega-Murillo dictatorship for similar crimes—this last week for the forced transfer of “liberated” political prisoners—and the documentation in Cuban even points to “contemporary forms of slavery.” Having Putin face an international tribunal is bad news for all of them.

But there is more. Bringing Putin before an international tribunal and charging with the specific crime of aggression would be a direct message, a powerful and much-needed deterrent, for the expansionist ambitions of Nicolás Maduro. Venezuela has a claim on Guyana’s Esequiba region, a territory that represents no less than two-thirds of the country. The dispute has existed since the nineteenth century, but it has grown in intensity since 2015. The reason is simple: that year, gigantic oil reserves were discovered on the ocean floor off Esequiba’s coast, making Guyana one of the fastest-growing economies and projected to become the country with the highest oil income per capita in the world.

Guyana represents a fraction of the territory and the economic and military power of Venezuela. But in Venezuela, as in Russia, a despot in trouble, sanctioned and without international legitimacy is in power. It would not be the first time that a tyrant widely repudiated by his people and the international community embarks on a pseudo-nationalist military adventure—that is, through a crime of aggression—to regain strength. For all of the above, an international tribunal to try Russia's crime of aggression would also be great news for peace and security of the Americas.

Total War

This European war today is a global war. As Viet Thanh Nguyen well said, “All wars are fought twice, the first on the battlefield and the second in memory.” Like Nuremberg, this court is necessary in order not to forget, to also win the war of memory. For all these reasons, the Ukraine war must end with a victorious Ukraine.

Hector Schamis teaches at Georgetown University’s Center for Latin American Studies. He has published books and articles on topics such as privatization and state reform, populism, authoritarianism, and democracy, as well as on U.S.-Latin American relations. Follow him at: @hectorschamis.

Image: Shutterstock.

Before Russia invaded Ukraine a year ago today, NATO was beset by division. As recently as 2019, French president Emanuele Macron warned that the transatlantic alliance was “becoming brain-dead.” Then-U.S. presidential nominee Donald Trump’s 2016 interview with the New York Times about Washington not protecting NATO’s Baltic states from potential Russian aggression because they weren’t “paying their bills” unsettled America’s European allies. For many years, different NATO members blasted Germany and Italy for being too Russia-friendly, with some calling the former a “shaky alliance partner” and a “freeloader.” High levels of friction between Greece and Turkey only further exacerbated intra-NATO tensions.

One of Vladimir Putin’s many strategic blunders in the lead-up to the war was his underestimation of NATO’s capacity and will to unite behind President Volodymyr Zelensky’s government. Yet Putin wasn’t stupid for making this miscalculation—after Russia illegally annexed Crimea and seized much of Donbas in 2014, Germany and others in NATO were more interested in buying Russian gas than confronting Moscow over eastern Ukraine. Given this and the aforementioned intra-NATO divisions, the Kremlin arguably had good reason to assume that Berlin and other European capitals would resist Kyiv’s calls for significant military support and refrain from imposing stringent sanctions on Russia.

One year after Russia’s overt invasion, NATO unity against Moscow has, for the most part, remained rather tight. “NATO is united on a number of key issues,” says Paula Dobriansky, a former American diplomat and national security expert. “There is a fundamental consensus among NATO members about the gravity of the threat emanating from Moscow as well as the belief that if Ukraine does not decisively prevail, European and global security would be greatly impaired.”

Throughout the past year, countries in the Western alliance have provided Kyiv with military, economic, and humanitarian support to the tune of $80 billion, with the vast majority coming from the United States and UK. Although the arms deliveries to Ukraine have not been as much as some NATO countries—such as Poland and the Baltic states—would have liked, the alliance has met most of Kyiv’s demands. To Putin’s dismay, the European Union’s unprecedented sanctions packages on Russia, the “revolution” in Germany’s defense funding and energy policy, Italy’s “divorce” from Russia, Turkey’s drone deliveries to Kyiv, and other significant actions demonstrated NATO’s determination to reach its highest level of cohesion in the post-Cold War period.

Cracks in the Alliance

Yet NATO’s unity is not airtight. Hungary, for example, has been accused of obstructing the alliance’s unity to serve Budapest’s interests in maintaining positive bilateral relations with Moscow. In addition to ideational synergies between Prime Minister Viktor Orbán and Putin’s illiberal philosophies, Hungary is highly dependent on Russian gas and oil, which helps explain Budapest’s quest for foreign policy balance as a beneficiary of both EU subsidies and hydrocarbons from Russia. Nuclear energy, banking, and tourism are other domains that make Russia important to Hungary, which for years has been the most Putin-friendly EU member.

Turkey’s decision not to impose sanctions on Moscow while significantly increasing its bilateral trade with Russia further illustrates how not all members of NATO have been on the same page vis-à-vis the Ukraine War. Unconstrained by EU sanctions, Turkey’s imports of cheap Russian oil have tripled, while Ankara has de facto helped Russia bypass Western sanctions—for example, by importing semiconductors from Europe before re-exporting them to Russia. Wolfgang Pusztai, a security and policy analyst who is a senior advisor at the Austrian Institute for European and Security Policy, noted to us that there are practical reasons for this behavior: “While it is certainly justified to criticize Turkey for this, one must also realize that Turkey is in a very difficult economic situation and has presidential elections upcoming this year.”

Then there is the debate over Sweden and Finland’s accession to NATO, which has fueled significant tension between Ankara and various Western capitals. From the perspective of the United States and most European governments, these two Nordic countries joining NATO would greatly benefit the alliance. “Russia would be forced to deploy a very significant number of troops on its northern flank to protect the strategic important harbor of Murmansk and the Kola peninsula with their many navy bases from an eventual NATO attack in the case of a Russian aggression in Central Europe,” said Pusztai. “This additional burden means a significant risk for Russia and certainly lowers the appetite for a military aggression against NATO at all.”

More broadly, activists and protestors in the United States, UK, Italy, the Czech Republic, and other NATO countries, concerned about potential nuclear war and exhausted with war fatigue amid a period of global energy crises and inflation, have held demonstrations calling for a halt to arms shipments to Ukraine. Given that these countries are democracies, politicians who share these attitudes could come to power in the near future—a factor that Kyiv can’t ignore.

Ukraine’s Dependence on Western Support

With the Ukraine War entering its second year today, NATO’s member-states and their respective populations face disagreements over the extent to which they should take risks and make sacrifices to achieve a full liberation of Ukrainian land, including Crimea. While the survival of Zelensky’s government and the existence of Ukraine as an independent nation-state were on the line shortly after the February 2022 invasion, they are not today. The war, at the moment, is over a relatively small fraction of Ukrainian territory near the Russian border. As such, European countries generally regard the stakes involved in the Ukraine War as being lower when compared to a year ago.

Anatol Lieven, the director of the Eurasia Program at the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft, explained to us that the prospects for sustained NATO unity against Russia’s aggression will depend on four factors: “The state of the European economy; the risks of escalation to nuclear war; potential loss of faith in eventual Ukrainian victory; and if Russia itself offers a ceasefire. Any or all of these could increase pressure for a peace settlement.”

U.S. domestic politics may ultimately end up determining NATO unity. In the words of Andrew A. Michta, the dean of the College of International and Security Studies at the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies, “Should the United States cut Ukraine off, the country could not sustain its defense against Russia for long, regardless of what European NATO members and other supporters of Ukraine would do.” Given that a Republican might enter the Oval Office in January 2025 and decrease Washington’s support for Ukraine (or at least attach many more strings to it), Ukraine has much at stake in the 2024 U.S. election. “West European solidarity with the United States has been partly due to the fact that America has a Democratic administration,” explained Lieven. “If the Republicans—and especially of course Donald Trump—win in November 2024, this could lead to a weakening of the Transatlantic bond and more independent action by France and Germany.”

Germany and Italy will also test NATO’s impermeability. Berlin and Rome have shown a certain level of hesitancy in providing Ukraine with full-scale support. Germany recently delayed equipping Ukraine with Leopard 2 battle tanks, sending NATO allies—many of which were bound to Berlin’s consent to send their German-produced tanks to Kyiv—into a frenzy. The reason behind this delay rests in a decades-old dilemma that Berlin’s left-wing party, currently at the helm of the government, harbors, given its historic pacific stance. Italy’s prime minister, Giorgia Meloni, on the other hand, is steadfast in sending weapons to Kyiv. But members of her coalition, such as Silvio Berlusconi and Matteo Salvini, challenge Meloni’s position daily. This, and the fact that less than 40 percent of Italians support supplying Ukraine with weapons, may very well force Meloni to backtrack her support.

Germany and Italy’s hesitant-at-times support may prove quite detrimental to NATO unity behind Ukraine if the conflict rages on as a war of attrition. How long officials in Berlin and Rome can keep voters at bay is a question that keeps many experts pondering, especially given Russia’s effectiveness in tapping into these divisions for its benefit. Moscow has a long and successful history of meddling in internal politics and interfering in the elections of countries it wishes to see under its sphere of influence. European capitals were reminded of this when U.S. secretary of state Antony Blinken sent a cable to U.S. embassies warning its diplomats that the Kremlin was funneling money to sympathetic parties across Europe.

Closing Thoughts

Looking ahead, the prospects for NATO maintaining its overall unity against Russia as this conflict rages on are bright. Yet, fissures are within the transatlantic alliance are visible, and the thirty members are unlikely to resolve each disagreement or eliminate all their sources division vis-à-vis the Ukraine War. Determined to prevent Russia’s rogue invasion of an independent European country from benefitting Moscow, Western policymakers will be tasked with managing these divisions and preventing Russia from successfully exploiting them in manners that could harm NATO’s health and cohesion. A united NATO is vital for the future of Ukrainian sovereignty. As the war continues into its second year, the Biden administration will prioritize efforts aimed at preventing member-states from going astray and working with them to maintain robust support for Ukraine.

Giorgio Cafiero is the CEO of Gulf State Analytics and an adjunct fellow at the American Security Project.

Alissa Pavia is the Associate Director for the North Africa Program within the Rafik Hariri Center & Middle East Programs at the Atlantic Council.

Image: Shutterstock.

Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine stands as the biggest shakeup in the transatlantic community since the fall of the wall. It has completely changed our world, and we must adapt. 

Vladimir Putin is denuding his conventional military force. As a result, the future U.S. footprint in Europe should not be what it was in the past, nor does it need to be as robust as was once considered prudent. It is time to start talking about what the new face of the United States in Europe should look like. 

Lord Palmerston, a ruthless and cunning old sot, zealously defended his empire without an ounce of empathy, political correctness, or scruples. Still, it’s hard to argue with his dictum: “We have no eternal allies, and we have no perpetual enemies. Our interests are eternal and perpetual, and those interests it is our duty to follow.” This kind of righteous, hard thinking was lost in the post-Cold War world. Instead of ensuring that politics ends at the water’s edge, modern U.S. foreign policy looks increasingly like an extension of domestic policy squabbles. 

Indeed, Joe Biden’s National Security Advisor, Jake Sullivan, has said, “We’ve reached a point where foreign policy is domestic policy, and domestic policy is foreign policy.” That is nonsense. We need a third way that structures America’s actions and commitments to match our vital interests. This is nowhere more important than in America’s European footprint. 

America’s Global Footprint

America is a global power with global interests and responsibilities. That is just a fact. But it is also true that we can’t protect all those interests and responsibilities without partnering with like-minded allies who carry their fair share of risks as well as rewards. This is confirmed by the Index of U.S. Military Strength, an objective assessment that finds our forces to be, at best, marginally suited to safeguard America’s global vital interests. 

Europe, the Middle East, and the Indo-Pacific are the three regions most critical to U.S. prosperity and security. If all the world were a ballet stage, we could pivot from one region to another with ease. But “pivot” is an apt metaphor, because it reminds us that it would be easy for global adversaries to knock us off balance by threatening critical areas where our presence is inadequate. The United States should have sufficient capabilities in each theater to protect American vital interests there. What each regional footprint looks like should evolve over time, commensurate with the threat and allied contributions. Being responsible in how we allocate assets is also an important part of our national security. As Rep. Chip Roy and former National Security Council staff expert Victoria Coates note, a responsible use of resources makes for a stronger military.

The United States needs the right military, right now. We need to learn the lessons of the still ongoing war in Ukraine to think ahead to where we go from here.

America’s Future Footprint 

The U.S. presence in Europe, along with material assistance from NATO allies, has enabled Ukraine to stiff-arm Russia in Ukraine. In the process, Putin has lost a mammoth amount of conventional military capability. He has also witnessed Europeans enhance their energy security by divesting from dependence on Russia.

Further, many Europeans have, with renewed vigor, committed to increasing their defense capabilities and equitably sharing defense burdens. Several NATO powers, like Poland, now not only exceed the 2 percent GDP defense spending target, but their percentage by GDP exceeds that of the United States. Some major European powers, notably Germany, continue to lag behind. But our staunchest allies are not only doing more for self-defense; they are more pro-U.S., pro-NATO, anti-Russia, and anti-China. These governments are also proving remarkably resilient, despite high inflation, energy concerns, and uncertainty over the war against Ukraine.

All these constructive outcomes occurred without U.S. “boots on the ground.” We did deploy some additional troops as trainers, for logistical support, and on some security assistance and training missions, but these are, by and large, temporary deployments—and, most importantly, there was no requirement for Americans to engage in combat.

This experience—paired with the fact, that 1) Russia’s conventional military threat to Europe has been greatly reduced, 2) it will take Russia years, at best, to rebuild this capability, and 3) Europeans are willing and, in fact, doing more to contribute to collective defense—suggests how the U.S. military footprint should evolve in the future.

Forces

Ground Forces. There ought to be only a limited need for U.S. combat forces in theater. The 173rd Airborne Brigade in Italy is primarily a rapid response for missions across Eurasia and the Greater Middle East. That makes sense. The United States should have some strategically placed rapid response forces. It’s like when you’re out of town and need money: it’s much better to be able to draw cash from a convenient ATM than to have to fly back to your hometown bank.

Washington ought to have two combat brigade equivalents in Europe for training and exercises with allies, as well as part of the forward-deployed deterrence in Central Europe. These can be rotational forces, but the presence, the footprint, should be persistent. In addition, a deployed corps headquarters that could provide the capacity to mobilize a larger conventional force, if needed, makes sense. 

Russia may indeed rebuild its conventional forces over time, but then again, our expectations for Europe’s conventional forces will evolve as well. In the future, Washington can adjust as needed, particularly if the United States retains total Active, Reserve, and National Guard land force capability sufficient to meet the needs of theater commanders. 

Air Forces. The Trump administration’s plan to rationalize and consolidate the U.S. footprint made sense. The Biden administration canceled that plan, but it deserves a relook. 

Naval Forces. The United States has an important role to play in the Mediterranean, much of it centering on assisting allies in capacity building. Yet our efforts in the region are not commensurate with America’s interests. This does not mean a lot more ships. (We do need more ships, but we need them in the Indo-Pacific. For that, we will need to build a bigger Navy.) In Europe, the United States can accomplish a great deal more by pursuing security cooperation and a diplomatic approach that takes advantage of burden-sharing and joint action.

Presence

It is not so much what and how much the U.S. military has in many strategic places, but that the United States has presence, access, and the capacity to expand or contract as necessary. Greenland and Iceland are key to safeguarding the transatlantic bridge. Great Britain and Germany are crucial logistical, training, and support nodes. Poland is vital for forward presence. Many countries—Italy, Romania, Greece, Turkey, and, potentially, Georgia—offer essential basing and access options in the Mediterranean and the Black Sea.

Moreover, small U.S. contingents, such as KFOR in the Balkans, can make an outside contribution to regional stability.

Enablers

One of the lessons of Russia’s war on Ukraine is that nations that demonstrate a capacity and unshakable commitment to self-defense are much more likely to attract external support from allies in times of crisis. Thus, many European nations are seeking enablers that will enhance their capacity to protect their own populations. These include intelligence sharing, surveillance, and targeting, air and missile defense, training, and technical cooperation. 

An increasingly crucial enable will be extended nuclear deterrence. The Ukraine war reminds us how adverse nuclear-armed adversaries are to fight directly with each where there is a risk of escalation. As Russia’s conventional forces decline, its reliance on nuclear deterrence will increase. Further, China’s rapid expansion of its strategic forces is a major concern. The U.S. nuclear umbrella and missile defenses must be capable and robust. 

Partnerships 

America’s continued presence and engagement in Europe has empowered Europeans who are more pro-American and anti-Russian and anti-China, as well as governments that share concerns of many conservative Americans on domestic issues like life, education, family, religious liberty, and energy policies that are strengthening transatlantic bonds. Pivoting away from them would undermine the relationships, cooperation, and burden-sharing needed to make a smaller U.S. footprint in Europe both more durable and more effective. Strengthening partnerships ought to be a priority. 

NATO remains foundational to collective security. NATO enlargement adds partners that better allow for sharing the burden. Sweden and Finland are great examples. 

The United States can also enhance bilateral relations with countries that can deliver real benefits through burden sharing and partnership. Italy, Greece, Romania, and Poland are excellent examples. Italy, for instance, is the natural U.S. partner for leadership in the Greater Mediterranean region. 

In addition, the United States should support collective efforts to expand security and economic cooperation in Northern, Central, and Southern Europe and across the Black Sea into the Caucuses and Central Asia. 

Finally, the United States should continue to push reluctant allies, like Germany, to adapt our joint efforts to the realities of the new Europe. 

This rethinking has implications for other regions as well. For instance, if America can work with the Arab nations and Israel in building out the Abraham Accords, the United States can have a similar collective security footprint in the Middle East.

In all theaters, the U.S. needs the capacity and capability to protect its vital interests. But the global footprint we lay down ought to be designed to respond to what is going on in the world and shaped to deliver what we need to protect U.S. interests in the future. 

A Heritage Foundation vice president, James Jay Carafano directs the think tank’s research on matters of national security and foreign relations.

Image: Shutterstock.

The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) regime that currently rules China maintains that Taiwan is inseparably and permanently a part of China. The White Paper published by the Chinese government in August 2022 holds that “Taiwan has belonged to China since ancient times” and “Taiwan’s status as part of China’s territory has never changed.”

The People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) official line is that Taiwan’s natural status is to be ruled from Beijing, that the majority of the people on Taiwan concur, and that the only opposition comes from “outside forces and the few separatists.”

This outlook, however, ignores Taiwan’s actual history. Taiwan has mostly been outside of the control of governments based on the Chinese Mainland, and the periods of mainlander rule over Taiwan have been highly contentious.

Up to the seventeenth century, Taiwan had been home not only to Chinese settlers, but also to a non-Chinese aboriginal population, a Spanish colony, and a Dutch-run government. Chinese emperors saw Taiwan as an irritant, a haven for pirates and dissenters. The Manchu-led Qing government’s decision to annex Taiwan in 1684 largely reflected a fear that an ungoverned Taiwan would continue to serve as a base for enemies. Taiwan first became a prefecture of Fujian Province, then a province in 1887. 

This first period of Chinese central government rule over Taiwan saw frequent unrest among Chinese migrants who were unhappy with the government’s land-use policies. Mainland rule ended with Taiwanese learning that their central government had sold them out, ceding Taiwan as a prize to Japan in 1895 as part of the settlement of the First Sino-Japanese War. Abandoned by the mainland, the Taiwanese declared a Republic of Formosa and fought a brief but losing war against arriving Japanese soldiers.

Japan’s defeat in the Pacific War led to Taiwan returning to rule from the mainland, in this case, the Republic of China (ROC) under Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang (KMT) government. Under Japanese rule, Taiwan had become more economically and politically advanced than Mainland China. The new KMT government, however, subjected Taiwan to systematic looting and treated the Taiwanese as Japanese collaborators who had been indoctrinated in anti-China sentiment. Taiwanese anger built up, eventually exploding in the February 28, 1947, uprising. In retaliation, the ROC central government dispatched troops from the mainland who sought out anyone they thought might be a threat to the regime. They massacred tens of thousands of Taiwanese. 

The KMT’s defeat by CCP forces in the Chinese Civil War led Chiang and his remaining followers to relocate to Taiwan in 1949. Taiwan endured a repressive one-party dictatorship until Chiang’s son began to relax civil liberties starting in 1987. A legacy of that era is the deep divide between the longer-established Taiwanese and more recently-arrived mainlander communities in today’s Taiwan politics.

Taiwan received an artificial bump in affinity for China because of the postwar influx of about two million mainland-born Chinese. That effect, however, is fading, despite many Taiwanese nationals spending years living and working in some of Mainland China’s more appealing cities. 

Public opinion surveys on Taiwan conducted by National Chengchi University and the Taiwan Public Opinion Foundation found that in 1992, less than 20 percent of Taiwan’s population described themselves as “Taiwanese.” Between 20 and 25 percent considered themselves “Chinese,” and a solid majority saw themselves as “both Chinese and Taiwanese.” Only 15 percent hoped for Taiwan's independence, 30 percent wanted unification with China, and 35 percent preferred the status quo. Those numbers changed dramatically over the next generation, indicating a psychological break from China. In 2022, a solid majority (61 percent in one poll, 80 percent in the other) considered themselves “Taiwanese,” and only a tiny minority identified as “Chinese.” Support for unification with China dropped to 11 percent, while preference for formal independence rose to 53 percent.

Now another Mainland Chinese government causes problems for Taiwan. The CCP regime claims sovereignty over Taiwan even though, unlike the Qing government or the ROC, it has never ruled Taiwan. Beijing has decreed that non-statehood for Taiwan—despite Taiwan easily fulfilling the usual criteria of an independent country—and eventual submission by Taiwan’s people to governance by the PRC are non-negotiable. The PRC has maintained heightened and continuous military pressure on Taiwan since 2016, when President Tsai Ing-wen refused to declare Taiwan part of China. Beijing harasses governments, international organizations, and private corporations that “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people” by even minuscule gestures that implicitly violate the legal fiction that Taiwan is not a country. In some cases, such as keeping Taiwan out of the World Health Assembly or the International Civil Aviation Organization, Beijing’s obsession could cause people to get hurt.

Even after the horror show of the PRC government’s crackdown on Hong Kong’s civil liberties, PRC paramount leader Xi Jinping has continued to insist that “one country, two systems” is the model for annexing Taiwan into the PRC. Xi has reportedly ordered party ideologist and Politburo Standing Committee member Wang Huning to formulate a new phrase that Xi can claim as original. Given the CCP’s sclerotic commitment to its idiosyncratically distorted conception of the Taiwan-China relationship, anything behind a superficial adjustment of wording is extremely unlikely.

The CCP’s amnesic narrative about Taiwan’s history traps it in a circular argument. The government cannot abide Taiwanese independence because this would cause a loss of domestic legitimacy. PRC citizens would consider the “loss” of Taiwan a profound failure by the leadership. But PRC citizens feel this way because the CCP leadership has taught China’s people for decades that the party must and will annex Taiwan. Xi has even said China cannot achieve “rejuvenation” without unifying with Taiwan. 

The way the CCP currently frames the Taiwan issue is an unfortunate choice, not an inevitability. In the 1930s, for example, Mao Zedong said Taiwan should be independent.

Taiwan’s current conflict with Beijing is typical of the historical relationship, not an anomaly as claimed by PRC propaganda. In any case, Beijing’s argument that the past is determinative is unpersuasive, even setting aside the issue of Beijing describing a fake past. This is the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth. The wishes of the people who inhabit a de facto state should matter more than another state’s indirect claim to ownership of the land.

Denny Roy is a Senior Fellow at the East-West Center in Honolulu.

Image: Shutterstock.

Turkey will require billions of dollars in foreign aid to clear debris and rebuild from the recent earthquake. Though more than 40,000 victims need a generous helping hand, assistance should be monitored to make sure funds are spent as intended. Channeling assistance through international NGOs would enhance the integrity of foreign aid. Donors must make sure their largess is not stolen by the incompetent, callous, and corrupt government of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

Despite that stringent construction standards were adopted after the last earthquake in 1999, Erdogan established sweeping exceptions out of fear that these standards would discourage construction and limit the country’s economic development. According to Turkish agencies, a plethora of contractors with ties to the government received amnesty. The flattened landscape in Antakya, the earthquake’s epicenter, is the consequence of Erdogan’s ill-advised amnesty policy. Corrupt business practices are widespread in Turkey. Erdogan’s government awarded government-funded infrastructure projects to cronies who cut corners on safety and environmental standards, which contributed to the high death toll in Antakya. Though the government collected large sums through an earthquake tax designed to build stronger buildings, the money was pocketed by corrupt officials. It is common practice in Turkey for businesses to pay bribes to the government in exchange for lucrative contracts.

Turkey is currently investigating about 400 contractors and has arrested 120. This roundup is a thinly-disguised effort to deflect blame by scapegoating construction companies. The investigation focuses on “small fish” instead of large construction companies with ties to the government. One of the worst offenders, for example, is Cengiz Holdings, a large construction company run by a Turkish oligarch and close friend of Erdogan. Cengiz Holdings received $42.1 billion in government contracts since Erdogan’s Justice and Development Party (AKP) came to power in 2002. It also contributed $160 million to the AKP.

The disastrous consequences of the Antakya earthquake were compounded by the government’s lack of preparedness. Rescue workers were slow to reach the scene. When they arrived, they lacked suitable equipment to identify and extract victims. Though Antakya is located in a known earthquake zone, the government failed to preposition tents, blankets, food, and water. The Turkish government has also been playing politics with earthquake relief. Soon after the disaster, countries rushed to send rescue teams. However, only “friendly” governments were allowed to assist. Cyprus offered rescue teams to Antakya, but the government refused its offer. Antakya is in Hatay province, home to many refugees from Syria and a large Kurdish population. Syrians and Kurds were bumped to the end of the queue when it came to emergency assistance. The government is loath to assist so-called oppositionists allegedly sympathetic to the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK) against whom Turkey has waged a counterinsurgency campaign since the 1990s, which resulted in at least 40,000 deaths. The PKK announced a unilateral ceasefire within hours of the first tremor. It was not the first time the PKK laid down its arms in service of social harmony.

Erdogan boasts about Turkey’s strong state. It may be adept at waging war, but sorely lacks the capacity to address a civil emergency. Noble Turks in Turkish civil society immediately mobilized and donated supplies to the victims. Medical personnel flocked to Antakya, setting up clinics to assist earthquake victims. Though there was little coordination with the authorities, that did not dissuade their efforts. I’m in touch with doctors from a hospital in Ankara who went to Antakya to help. Their team of twelve people found a chaotic relief effort with the government all but absent.

Erdogan himself visited the earthquake zone as anger spiked over the government’s inadequate performance. He was accompanied by a gaggle of press to report on his visit. The extensive media presence made his drop-by look like a publicity stunt, rather than a sincere effort to comfort the victims. The optics of his visit compounded the government’s credibility problem. Erdogan was attired in a luxurious cashmere coat that cost thousands of dollars. The image of an elegant Erdogan surrounded by scantily clad victims backfired. He came off as uncaring, more concerned with public relations than the suffering of victims.

The earthquake compounded a widespread perception that Erdogan has broken faith with the Turkish people. The AKP has held a stranglehold on power for more than two decades. During this time, Erdogan consolidated power by establishing an executive presidency, expanding tyrannical rule, and abusing human rights with impunity. Earthquake victims are discovering they have something in common with victims of Erdogan’s human rights abuses. Turks turned a blind eye to the country’s eroding human rights situation in exchange for prosperity. Now Erdogan’s house of cards has been shaken by the Antakya earthquake. Turkey’s economy and currency have collapsed. Its reputation as a strong state is eroded. AKP officials have floated a proposal to delay national elections scheduled for May 2023. They worry—rightfully so—that Turkish voters will punish the AKP at the ballot box. The time of reckoning for Erdogan is drawing near.

David L. Phillips is Director of the Program on Peacebuilding and Human Rights at Columbia University.  He served as a Senior Adviser and Foreign Affairs Expert at the State Department during the Clinton, Bush, and Obama administrations.

Image: FreelanceJournalist / Shutterstock.com

The devastation wrought by Hurricanes Irma and Maria in Puerto Rico could provide an opportunity to rebuild the island’s energy system in a sustainable way. But failing to take food security into account could leave people with plenty of power but less food.

In 2017, Hurricanes Irma and Maria devastated Puerto Rico’s infrastructure. According to government estimates, it would take $132 billion from 2018 through 2028 to repair and replace the damaged infrastructure. Progress on electric grid reconstruction and upgrading has been slower than anticipated, and the island still suffers from outages and recurring storm threats. Hurricane Fiona, which hit the island in September 2022, was estimated to have caused an additional $4 billion in damages. Simultaneously, Puerto Rico has committed to generating 100 percent of its energy renewably by 2050, as stated in Puerto Rico Energy Public Policy Act (Act 17).

Given the dire state of the island’s infrastructure, this plan could be an opportunity to leapfrog fossil fuels and rebuild in a sustainable manner. But Puerto Rico’s recovery and transition to 100 percent renewables may need to take food security into account since the energy and food systems are inextricably interdependent. For instance, electricity generation and food production can compete for land use. Likewise, natural gas is a key input to produce fertilizer, and farming equipment requires diesel to run.

Puerto Rico is a small island, heavily reliant on imports. Its agricultural base, which occupies 21 percent of its land area, only produces 15 percent of the food it consumes and but a fraction of its GDP. Furthermore, Puerto Rico’s agricultural industry is also less productive per acre than competing farms in the United States and South America. Already, agricultural land on the island has decreased steadily from 6.000 km2 in 1960 to less than 2.000 km2 in 2020. Today, about one-third of residents experience food insecurity. Puerto Rico also consumes 70 times more energy than it produces, indicating enormous new generation capacity must be brought online by 2050 to comply with Act 17 goals. Therefore, as Puerto Rico proceeds toward 100 percent renewable energy (PR100), it will be tempting and possibly lucrative to reduce domestic agriculture even further, sacrificing agricultural land for solar photovoltaic installations to generate clean, renewable energy required by law.

Preliminary results of an investigation by the National Renewable Energy Laboratory (NREL) suggest that the island could theoretically meet its energy needs from renewable sources, especially offshore wind, and solar photovoltaics (PVs). But while future grid electrification could increase grid efficiency, electricity consumption is also likely to increase. This would require a further increase in total generation. Offshore wind costs more than five times as much per kilowatt to install as Solar PV and more than double to maintain. At the same time, most of the land best suited for photovoltaics also happens to be the same land best suited for agriculture. The much lower costs and coincidental land favorability of PV installations could put enormous pressure on both government and industry to favor building solar PV there and crowd out agriculture. Innovation may help: some crops may be suitable to farming and photovoltaic co-location. Through clever design and a combination of crop choice, this may partially solve two problems at once. But “agrovoltaics,” as this is known, is a nascent concept, largely unproven.

In the event of natural disasters, tragically frequent in Puerto Rico, imports may be cut off for an unknown duration. Puerto Rico was making progress towards strengthening its agricultural sector until recent hurricanes caused setbacks, with estimates indicating that around 80 percent of agricultural infrastructure lies destroyed. A safe level of domestic food production required to prevent famine could be identified and enforced. Food insecurity alone could result in social instability as has been seen recently in Indonesia and Panama. It would be irresponsible to reduce domestic agricultural output below a safe baseline for incremental, possibly short-term lucrative gains in renewable energy generation.

The tragedy of disaster recovery has unlocked substantial capital for Puerto Rico to rewrite its interdependent security in energy and food. Considering food security in this context could help to ensure the population has access to both power and food.

Ismael Arciniegas Rueda is a senior economist and Andrew Star is an engineer at the nonprofit, nonpartisan RAND Corporation. Henri van Soest is an analyst at RAND Europe.

Image: bobby20/Shutterstock.

Democracy was on the agenda at last week’s White House meeting between U.S. president Joe Biden and Brazilian president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, with Biden calling on the two nations to support democracy “not just in our hemisphere but around the world,” and Lula affirming that the United States “can count on Brazil in the fight for democracy.”

Yet what are the United States and its allies doing to counter authoritarian aggression? The Biden-Lula meeting comes two months ahead of the Summit for Democracy, where the United States and other hosts will “reaffirm the vitality of the democratic model” to “meet the unprecedented challenges of our time.” The United States and co-hosts will also take stock of progress toward commitments they and others made during the first summit, held in 2021.

The inaugural summit provided a high-level platform for the Biden administration to repeat its rhetoric, affirming U.S. support for democracy overseas and warning of the escalating contest between democracy and autocracy.

Unfortunately, this position hasn’t always been backed by action. While the gathering highlighted the need to push back against authoritarianism, the administration undercut this aim by advancing too narrow of a solution—one focused disproportionately on supporting civil society and curbing graft without shoring up the institutions of governance that make democracy deliver.

Political parties are the most prevalent and efficacious forms of political organization and representation across the globe. Parties channel citizens’ views into platforms and are integral to democratic political competition. Victorious candidates transition their apparatus into office, making effective political parties essential to governing. 

Despite the central role parties serve in the democratic architecture of functioning societies, not a single 2021 U.S. commitment included a call to prioritize or expand support to them.

As the U.S. and allies develop commitments to announce during the summit, they have an opportunity to right-size their solution by elevating their commitment to strengthening democratic institutions generally, and political parties in particular. Doing so is in line with the stated aims of summit part deux to “reaffirm the central role of democratic institutions in delivering prosperity and safeguarding liberty.”

The following three actions—which can be adopted as summit commitments—would do well to reinforce political parties as a linchpin of liberal democracy and arguably the keystone to pushing back against domestic and foreign authoritarianism.

First, the United States and its democratic partners should expand funding to support nascent political parties that emerge from pro-democracy protest movements or respond to popular dissatisfaction with traditional parties.

From the Semilla Movement party in Guatemala to the Change Movement in Lebanon, these movements-turned-political-parties are one of the four most common types of parties today, and are increasingly prevalent in countries of strategic importance to the United States. Their leaders often win elections following a groundswell of public support and hopes for change. Yet these nascent parties face fundamental challenges in governing because they must translate loose networks of actors into a single, well-structured entity with finite views and policy proposals.

Momentum and public backing can wane as un-tested protest leaders turned government officials fail to deliver, leading to diminished support for democracy. Nurturing these parties promotes healthier multiparty competition by incentivizing out-of-touch parties to either adapt to the needs of voters or fall by the wayside (as opposed to becoming entrenched due to a lack of alternatives).

Augmenting support in the form of training and capacity building for these entities—provided they are committed to democratic practices and norms and equality for all citizens—advances the administration’s call to help so-called “bright spot” countries solidify their democratic progress. These initiatives should be complemented with debt relief and other steps to give these leaders time to show progress to their constituents.

The United States should also prioritize political party support as part of its efforts to defend, sustain, and enhance democratic resilience envisioned in the Presidential Initiative for Democratic Renewal. Specifically, support should help political parties modernize their digital operations, including harnessing technology to deliver for citizens.

Traditional parties often lag and struggle to compete with political newcomers, populists, and authoritarian-leaning actors who employ digital tools more effectively. This has contributed to the delegitimization of the critical role political parties have as institutions of democracy. Political parties must digitize operations and use digital tools and technology to better reach new audiences and communicate their platforms. Moreover, with the increased threat of digital authoritarianism, political parties need urgent support to bolster their ability to protect themselves from authoritarian powers seeking to advance their own interests by eroding multiparty democracy.

Finally, the U.S. should cultivate the political and strategic skills of political parties and their leaders. While investment in political parties’ internal infrastructure remains crucial, this is not sufficient to ensure their survival. Parties have traditionally prepared political leaders to assume a role in governing. Successful candidates and elected officials require political skills: their ability to strategize, persuade, forge consensus, secure political support for their initiatives and ultimately work within the realities of their political environment to achieve their promises. Weakness in this area impedes an elected official from delivering solutions and further weakens an already fraying support for democracy.

For example, Peru’s current state of disarray is in due part to Pedro Castillo’s lack of strategy and political astuteness, leading to missteps that alienated him from his base. Castillo is but one of many candidates who get into office only to find themselves lacking the core skills needed to govern. Political skills are essential to successful elections and office.

A second democracy summit provides an opportunity for a well-justified call to action, but is not a substitute for a strategy for defeating authoritarianism. Reversing the autocratic tide needs to start with making the financial and diplomatic commitments necessary to enable core political institutions—political parties chief among them—to deliver on the promise of democracy.

Katya Rimkunas serves as the Director for Democracy, Rights and Governance, Technical Leadership for the International Republican Institute’s (IRI) Center for Global Impact.

Patrick Quirk serves as Vice President for Strategy, Innovation, and Impact at IRI. In this role, Dr. Quirk provides the leadership, management, and vision to ensure that IRI is addressing global challenges to democracy by developing innovative and evidence-based programs, tools, and resources. He leads IRI’s organization-wide strategic planning as well as oversees institutional efforts on monitoring, evaluation, research, and learning.

Image: rafapress/Shutterstock.

Much of the debate over American policy toward Russia has concerned energy. Can Russian oil and gas be replaced in the supply chain for America’s allies? How far can the West tighten the screws on Russia’s economy? In their recent Foreign Policy piece, “The World Economy No Longer Needs Russia,” Jeffrey Sonnenfeld and Steven Tian assert that Russian energy is a marginal part of the global economy, and that shutting Russia out of global markets entirely would have minimal impact. That argument might embolden Washington but is simply not rooted in facts.

The assertion that “the world no longer depends on Putin’s oil” is either hyperbole or reflects a serious misunderstanding of oil markets. The Energy Information Agency’s (EIA) latest forecast calls for an average global production of 102 million barrels per day (mbpd) in 2023–24 and consumption of just 0.6 mbpd less. Russia’s 2022 oil production was some 11 mbpd. The loss of 11 percent of global supply with a cushion of just 0.6 percent on average would cause prices to skyrocket, severely damaging the world economy. Furthermore, EIA production estimates may be overly rosy as supply disruptions are always possible, and the reopening of the Chinese economy following the end of zero-covid policies may stoke demand.

Source: EIA

The precariousness of the supply-demand balance was highlighted by the announcement on February 10 that Russia would cut output by 0.5 mbpd. Oil prices spiked 2.2 percent since, in the words of UBS analyst Giovanni Staunovo, in the short term there is nobody to fill the supply gap created by the Russian cuts.

In light of supply tightness, oil flows have simply been re-routed. Russian exports to India and China have increased substantially, with subsequent reexport to Europe, either as crude or refined products, at higher prices. Even Saudi Arabia has been increasing imports of Russian crude for domestic use, allowing it to export more of its own product. Russian exports simply have not decreased.

The authors respond to fears of lost supply by asserting that “any lost Russian crude will be seamlessly and easily replaced within weeks.” This outright ignores the realities of global oil production. Of the sources mentioned—the United States, Venezuela, Canada, and Brazil—only the United States would seem a viable replacement. But because the expected increase of 0.55 mbpd in 2023, and another 0.40 in 2024, will produce, combined, less than one-tenth of Russian production. These numbers cannot support the assertion made by Sonnenfeld and Tian.

Source: BP Statistical Review of World Energy

Canada and Brazil are likely to increase output even less. Venezuela, after twenty-three years of rule by Hugo Chávez and Nicolás Maduro, as well as fifteen years of punishing U.S. sanctions, has seen its output plummet from 3.3 to 0.7 mbpd. The idea that it can substantially increase oil production in any appreciable amount in any policy-relevant timeframe is not believable. The U.S. Treasury’s recent granting of Chevron a six-month license to operate in Venezuela, while positive, is a drop in the bucket. Many years and billions of dollars of capital expenditure will be required to restore production.

Saudi Arabia is similarly unlikely to be able to step in. OPEC spare capacity, mostly Saudi and often estimated by politicians at 2.5 mbpd, is likely significantly less due to years of declining output and lowered capital expenditure. Based on information coming out of the kingdom and by independent experts, the number is probably closer to 0.5 mpbd. Pushing output up will require time and investment.

Moreover, OPEC’s primary desire is to maximize profit. Increasing output may run counter to this since, all else equal, rising supply means lower prices. The claim that Vladimir Putin “coerce[d] Saudi Arabia” to cut production quotas looks strange, not only because the only source cited is a Politico opinion piece written by the authors and two congressmen, but also because cutting production leads to higher prices, in line with Saudi rational self-interest.

Additionally, the argument that pausing arms transfers will pressure Saudi Arabia to ramp up production has little historical precedent. Instead, in recent years Riyadh has chosen increased cooperation with Russia and more importantly China—offering Saudi Arabia a chance to lessen the impact of U.S. pressure.

The reality of the gas market picture is also different. Sonnenfeld and Tian claim “Putin has choked off natural gas supplies to Europe” when in fact Nord Stream was operating at full capacity in the first half of 2022 and then at declining capacity for another three months before being sabotaged at the end of September. Gas flow through Ukraine was at 100 percent before dropping to 67 percent when Kyiv closed the Sokhranovka pipe. Russian LNG exports to Europe (22 billion cubic meters, or bcm, last year) continue to this day, as do flows through Turkey via Blue Stream and Turk Stream.

The statement that “Europe is now assured sufficient energy supply well into 2024 at a minimum” is not plausible, given that Russian flows will be considerably lower in 2023 than in 2022, barring a settlement of the war and a herculean effort to restore economic relations. In other words, an even greater volume of gas must be replaced this year and next. Warmer than-usual weather has helped, as Sonnefeld and Tian note, but this factor is variable and unpredictable, and should not form the basis of policy. At best, it has bought Europe some more time unless they want the process of deindustrialization to continue.

Source: Brugel - McWilliams, Sgaravatti, Zachmann

The 185 bcm of gas Europe imported from Russia in 2021 simply cannot be replaced in the short term and/or at a reasonable cost. Losses were partially offset by a 64 bcm increase in LNG imports, including an impressive 42 bcm increase from the United States. Still, the numbers cannot support the claim that “[t]he EU now purchases more LNG than it ever purchased Russian gas.”

The cost of LNG is also significantly higher than pipeline gas, with serious economic consequences—all the more so since the EU had to bid cargoes away from Asia, where LNG is already traded at a premium. This has the side effect of pricing poorer countries, like Bangladesh and Pakistan, out of the market, resulting in shortages and rationing. Given flattish domestic production, rising U.S. LNG exports will put upward pressure on the price of natural gas, which in the United States is the fuel for 38 percent of electricity and 46 percent of home heating, and is the feedstock for thousands of products from plastics to fertilizer, driving their prices up as well.

European nuclear energy, which would help alleviate part of this, has been beset by maintenance issues. While Germany has discovered a new enthusiasm for nuclear power after years of phasing it out, setting up new plants or even revitalizing old ones will take time. Likewise, not only will “renewables” not solve the problem, as asserted, but false hope in renewables is one of the major reasons Europe in general and Germany specifically is in this situation. In Germany, the share of renewables increased 364 percent from 2000 to 2020, but still account for only 18 percent of total energy supply. Additionally, renewables include biomass, such as clear-cutting forests to make wood pellets, and impose costs and problems due to their intermittency and other negative externalities for generation and the grid.

In short, there is no free ride, no magic source of energy, to power an industrial economy. 

The authors repeatedly seem to have insight into Putin’s thoughts and thought processes despite the lack of basis for such vision. Absent confirmatory actions or at least rhetoric, statements like “hoping that Europeans . . . would turn on their leaders,” “long a Putin obsession,” “miscalculations,” and “whims” are difficult to accept and do not serve as support for the proffered arguments.

The desire to punish Russia for its invasion is entirely understandable, but foreign policy must be based on the world we live in. Eliminating Russian energy would have devastating consequences for the global economy. To suggest otherwise does a disservice to those who will suffer from such policies.

Scott Semet has been working on global financial markets for over twenty-five years across the spectrum of financial services, private equity, and venture capital, including establishing and running the research department of major financial institutions. Recently, he has focused on the intersection of business, economics, and politics in Eurasia. He has an MA from Yale University Graduate School and an MBA from Columbia Business School.

Image: curraheeshutter/Shutterstock.

In addition to the Taiwanese government’s efforts to carry out reforms and increase the country’s defense budget, the growing threat from China has made Taiwanese society more mindful of its own security. Since last year, there have been several non-governmental endeavors to boost Taiwan’s civil defense. Among these initiatives, the Kuma Academy, or “Black Bear Academy,” has attracted the most attention. Co-founded by Puma Shen, a world-leading expert on misinformation, the academy is devoted to preparing 3 million Taiwanese citizens within three years in areas such as cognitive warfare, introductory modern warfare, wartime first aid, and evacuation drills. There are also several other NGOs running similar programs on various scales.

Since their inception, there have been heated debates within Taiwanese society about whether the academy and similar organizations will be able to increase public interest in self-defense. The Taiwan National Security Survey (TNSS) results from October 2020 and December 2022 reveal that local, civilian efforts like the Kuma Academy did indeed better prepare Taiwanese citizens for a conflict with China.

In the TNSS survey, citizens were often given an opportunity to specify the action they would take if Taiwan were to be invaded by China. In 2020, about 24 percent of respondents did not provide a response, while another 21 percent responded: “let it be.” When taken together, both accounted for nearly half of the population. However, things were very different in the most recent survey, conducted in December 2022. This time, when the same question was asked, the “no response” portion shrank considerably to around 15 percent, while the “let it be” group came in at 19 percent. Compared to the 2020 findings, around 10 percent of citizens moved away from these two categories. 　

Where did the 10 percent go? In short, it moved into categories that could be interpreted as displaying a willingness to resist a Chinese invasion. In the 2022 survey, the number of respondents that said they would “serve in the military” increased from 11 percent to 13 percent. Another 15 percent said they would “resist the invasion,” and another 15 percent said that they would “support the government.” In 2020, only 10 percent indicated so. These changes made up the 10 percent shift. There were other noteworthy responses in the 2022 survey. For instance, some citizens said they would “participate in local civil defense organizations” and “provide medical assistance.” If we combine them with those that expressed a willingness to support logistics in wartime, this group increased to 2 percent, compared to 0.4 percent in 2020.

All in all, the 2022 poll revealed a number of insights. First, the Taiwanese public’s willingness to defend itself is at an all-time high, jumping from 33 percent in September 2020 to 47 percent in December 2022. This reveals that nearly half of Taiwan’s citizens are willing to defend themselves. Second, in the nearly two years between the two surveys, there have not been any systematic, concrete changes in Taiwan’s defense policy, leading the authors to believe that it was efforts by organizations like the Kuma Academy that led to the outcome observed in the 2022 poll. Additionally, actions such as “helping with logistics” and “joining civil defense groups” closely resemble what the Kuma Academy and other civil defense groups have strived to teach since last year. Indeed, these efforts started to be reflected in public opinion polls in Taiwan.

Having said the above, in the same question, some citizens said that they would “hide away,” “surrender,” or “run away.” But taken together, they represented a minority in Taiwanese society. We believe that going forward, the Taiwanese public’s willingness to engage in self-defense will continue to increase. According to a recent publication, the actions a Taiwanese citizen will take in wartime are largely dependent on what they believe others will do. When more citizens express a willingness to fight, others will follow. The same is true for the contrary, however. This tendency is especially salient for those who consider themselves to hold both Taiwanese and Chinese identities. We believe this explains the ever-increasing support for self-defense in Taiwan; citizens took cues from their peers.

This survey has a number of critical policy implications for the United States. First, as the results show that Taiwanese citizens are willing to fight for themselves, it will help clear up doubts that the Taiwanese public only wants to free-ride or even entrap the United States in a conflict with China. Second, recognizing the growing threat from China, the United States will benefit from assisting local civil defense organizations, as such training raises Taiwan’s determination for self-defense and the country’s overall preparedness for war. Specifically, while recent discussions tend to focus on bilateral training between the American and Taiwanese coast guards, it would be wise to broaden the scope to include civil and other non-governmental organizations in Taiwan, such as the Kuma Academy. These exchanges could be vital for Taiwan’s ability to defend its homeland and further deter a Chinese assault. At any rate, it will be in the interests of the relevant agencies to take the lead on these efforts (if such conversations have not taken place already). Doing so will further strengthen and develop groups like the Kuma Academy, advancing U.S. security interests. Without strong U.S. and Taiwanese government support for these grassroots organizations, critical opportunities to prepare to win a conflict with China will be missed.      

Charles K. S. Wu is an assistant professor of political science at the University of South Alabama. Find him on Twitter @wupolisciusa.

Yao-Yuan Yeh is the Fayez Sarofim – Cullen Trust for Higher Education Endowed Chair in International Studies, chair of the International Studies & Modern Languages Department, and chair of the Political Science Department at the University of St. Thomas in Houston. Find him on Twitter @yeh2sctw.

Fang-Yu Chen is an assistant professor of political science at Soochow University, Taiwan. Find him on Twitter @FangYu_80168.

Austin Horng-En Wang is an assistant professor of political science at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Find him on Twitter @wearytolove.

Image: JENG BO YUAN/Shutterstock.com.

“I am in Ukraine today,” President Joe Biden declared in his dramatic trip to Kiev earlier this week, “to reaffirm our unwavering and unflagging commitment to Ukraine’s democracy, sovereignty, and territorial integrity.” For most of this first year of the Ukraine war, the American public remained strikingly supportive of Biden’s Ukraine policy. But soft spots have been showing—and risk becoming cracks in the support base Biden needs to sustain that commitment.

Late 2022 polls showed 75 percent support for Russia sanctions, 57 percent for Ukrainian military aid, and only 35 percent seeing the conflict as “none of our business and we should not interfere.”

Support for military deployments to Eastern European NATO allies reached as high as 69 percent when specified “as a deterrent to keep Russia from invading those countries.” As to direct military intervention into the war itself, the public has consistently stood behind the line drawn by the Biden administration against this: in March 68 percent opposed sending troops, in August 60 percent, and in October 66 percent.

On questions geared to the then-upcoming midterm congressional elections, 69 percent were supportive of a candidate favoring continued Ukrainian military aid, while only 25 percent for a candidate advocating lifting Russian sanctions. A post-election poll showed a similar margin of 64 percent wanting their Congressional members to support Ukraine aid, while only 36 percent oppose.

Within all that, though, party differences had begun to emerge. Whereas in May only 17 percent of Republicans said Ukrainian support was “too much” support, by September this was up to 32 percent; Democrats had only gone from 8 percent to 11 percent. By January 2023, Republicans were up to 47 percent taking the “doing too much” position, Democrats only 10 percent.

Even before becoming House Speaker, Kevin McCarthy issued his “no blank check” warning. Reducing Ukraine aid was among the pledges he made to hard-right caucus members in order to become Speaker. House Foreign Affairs and Intelligence Committee Chairmen Michael McCaul and Mike Turner are playing the waste-fraud-abuse card—that they do support Ukraine, but just want more oversight on how the money is spent. Others, such as Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, are more blatant and bombastic, posing questions like “Is Ukraine now the 51st state of the United States of America?,” even alleging an elaborate cryptocurrency conspiracy in which military aid for Ukraine actually funded Democrats’ campaigns.

And then there’s presidential politics. Questions explicitly identifying policies as Biden’s got much lower approval than those just about the policies themselves. The same poll that had only 26 percent saying reduce Ukraine aid got 53 percent disapproval when identifying America’s Ukraine policy as Biden’s. As the presidential race ramps up, this link will be made more and more. Florida governor Ron DeSantis, a leading Republican presidential aspirant, wasted no time in criticizing Biden for the trip and deriding the Russian threat as “third-rate.”

Some of the initial willingness to bear costs was a rally effect that took effect right after the Russian invasion. Over time though, cost-bearing willingness declined. In March 2022, 55 percent prioritized sanctioning Russia even if it damaged the American economy, and only 42 percent opted to limit damage to our own economy even if it made Russia’s sanctions less effective. By last month only 36 percent still supported making sanctions effective, with 59 percent prioritizing limiting our own economic costs. With the American economy still far from out of the woods and total aid to Ukraine going over $100 billion, cost-bearing willingness is understandably under added pressure.

We also see “generational laddering” with younger generations—which are becoming the largest demographic voting bloc—less supportive than older generations. On approval of sanctions, Gen Z stands at 45 percent, Millennials at 55 percent, Gen X at 76 percent, and Baby Boomers at 86 percent. On Ukrainian financial aid, 53 percent/54 percent/60 percent/75 percent. On military aid, 44 percent/48 percent/61 percent/81 percent. On supporting Ukraine for “as long as it takes,” 43 percent/52 percent/62 percent/66 percent.

The close collaboration of European allies has both satisfied the political preference for burden sharing and enhanced the strategic calculus for policy effectiveness. 86 percent of the American public stressed the importance of allies working with the United States against Russia. Support for sanctions has gone as high as 83 percent when posed as being imposed by both the United States and European allies. While Europe has done far better than anticipated in reducing its energy dependence on Russian oil and natural gas, the economic costs being borne from both sanctions and war still have been quite substantial. And as hard as NATO has been working on maintaining solidarity, issues like the German Leopard tanks and Ukrainian pressure on Britain for fighter jets are indicative of increasing differences over the optimal strategy for these next phases of the war. If European commitment wavers, the American public may question its own commitment.

Adding to these are signs of an emerging policy debate within the United States. While there were some dissenting views early on, these were even fewer than during the 2003 Iraq war. As long as the Russian strategy was proving flawed and Ukrainian military and society kept up their admirable will and extraordinary performance, U.S. and NATO policy generally seemed well-calibrated. But with the war becoming attritional and trench warfare-like, and Russia managing to contain economic sanctions and keep pouring troops in, concerns have been intensifying as to the sustainability of that strategy. The House Progressive Caucus’ October letter stressing the need to “avoid a prolonged conflict” was retracted for political reasons (coming on the eve of the midterms), but its policy argument lingers in the background. Joint Chiefs Chairman General Mark Milley publicly questioned the prospects of a Ukrainian military victory and pushed for more diplomacy. Despite White House pressure, General Milley did some “clarifying” but only partially walked his views back. A recent RAND study was even blunter: it posed the dilemma of increased assistance emboldening Ukraine to hold out on any possible negotiated settlement on the one hand, and decreased assistance prompting Russia to ratchet up its destructiveness even further.

Relatedly, what if Ukraine starts losing as Russia mounts its next offensive? We know from other foreign policy cases that the sense a policy is working inclines the public to sustain support. That the Ukrainian resistance has held up so well has made Americans feel their money is being well spent. For example, comparing polls taken in August when Russia seemed to be gaining to October ones following Ukrainian forces re-taking Kharkiv and making other military gains, the none-of-our-business view went down from 40 percent to 35 percent, and support for providing weapons went up from 51 percent to 66 percent. But while a turn in the war towards Russia winning could strengthen the policy rationale for more support, the public may see this as throwing good money after bad, and be even less inclined to be supportive.

Alternatively, what if facing defeat Russia attacks a NATO ally or goes up the escalatory ladder toward the use of nuclear weapons? Recent polling by the Ronald Reagan Foundation found 69 percent of respondents are concerned about the threat of nuclear war—the highest indication of such fear since the Foundation first asked this question in 2018. That the threat was posed as “in the next five years” helps explain why 57 percent nevertheless still favored supporting Ukraine at the moment. It’s one thing for the public to affirm support for not giving in to nuclear threats when these are hypotheticals. It’d be quite another if the threat becomes more imminent, all the more if it’s coming from a beleaguered Vladimir Putin. Putin’s recent state of his union speech, suspending even any semblance of compliance with the New START treaty, threatening to resume nuclear tests, and announcing Russian strategic systems are now on combat duty only ratcheted up the nuclear threat higher than it’s been since the war started.

The Biden administration thus cannot count on the support that has been there for its Ukraine policy to still be there in the months to come. Soft spots in what otherwise is a consensus are more politically manageable than cracks in its base. As the war enters its second year, the political and policy challenges for maintaining Ukraine’s support, let alone increasing it, are even more formidable than they were in the first year.

Bruce W. Jentleson is a William Preston Few Distinguished Professor of Public Policy at Duke University, a former State Department official, and the author of Sanctions: What Everyone Needs to Know (Oxford University Press, 2022).

Image: Shutterstock.

A suspected Chinese spy balloon has exacerbated tensions between America and China. Is conflict inevitable? Or can it be headed off? Do the two sides have more incentives, particularly in the economic realm, to cooperate than is often assumed?

To address these critical questions, the Center for the National Interest invited two leading foreign affairs analysts for an expert discussion:

- Elbridge A. Colby is cofounder and principal of The Marathon Initiative and a former deputy assistant secretary of defense. He is the author of The Strategy of Denial.

- Paul Heer is a senior fellow at the Chicago Council on Global Affairs and a former national intelligence officer for East Asia.

Jacob Heilbrunn, editor of The National Interest, moderated the discussion.

Climate activists and other advocates for lowering carbon emissions sometimes make it seem as if the only thing standing between humanity and a bright green future is a lack of political will. So when President Joseph Biden hailed the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) in his State of the Union address as “the most significant investment ever to tackle the climate crisis…leading the world to a clean energy future,” many were delighted. Not to be outdone, a week later the European Parliament approved a law that effectively bans the sale of new gas and diesel automobiles within the European Union (EU) from 2035, the deadline it set for carmakers to achieve a 100 percent reduction in CO2 emissions from new vehicles sold.

Alas, what holds back these green dreams is not want of moral imagination, but material shortages of critical minerals—without which there is no transition to clean energy systems.

First, overlooked in most political—to say nothing of politicized—discussions of the energy transition are the wildly different material requirements of renewable energy systems vis-à-vis their conventional fossil fuel-powered predecessors. For example, an electric vehicle (EV) like the Tesla Model Y, the top-selling car in the category in America last year according to the Kelley Blue Book, needs six times the amount of minerals that would go into a conventional automobile. It’s wiring alone requires about 130 pounds of copper—roughly three times the amount of the metal that goes into a gas-powered car. An efficient electrical conductor, copper is also needed for the switch to solar- and wind-powered generation for homes and businesses, which will necessitate massive rewiring. If, as expected, demand doubles to about 50 million metric tons a year by 2035, there will be an annual shortfall of nearly 10 million metric tons under the most optimistic scenario. And that is just copper: according to the International Energy Agency, achieving the goal of net-zero emissions by mid-century enshrined in the EU Climate Law as well as in President Biden’s December 2021 executive order will cause the cumulative demand for the most common minerals used in EVs and battery storage—lithium, graphite, cobalt, and nickel—to grow thirty-fold over the next two decades.

Second, compounding the shortage of material inputs is the concentration of sourcing and processing of the available critical minerals. For example, by itself, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), accounts for about 70 percent of global cobalt production. Moreover, almost all of the metal is then exported to China, which refines about 90 percent of the global supply of rare earth elements (REEs), two-thirds of the lithium and cobalt, and almost 40 percent of the nickel. As Biden’s Special Presidential Coordinator for Global Infrastructure and Energy Security, Amos Hochstein, recently acknowledged at the African Mining Indaba in Cape Town, South Africa, “This is a major concern for the U.S. and I think for the rest of the world. As we are going into a cleaner, greener, and entirely new energy system, we have to make sure we have a diversified supply chain. … We can’t have a supply chain that is concentrated in any country, doesn’t matter which country that is.”

Overcoming these two challenges will require an “all-of-the-above” mindset.

Boosting domestic production, which the IRA tries to incentivize, despite this being at odds with the Biden administration’s restrictive approach to permitting in some areas, is one step. Geology, however, can limit how much of a dent this makes: as I previously pointed out elsewhere, the United States possesses less than 1 percent of the world’s reserves of cobalt and, even if it could possibly to mine it all, would still run through its entire supply in about six years given the current rate of consumption.

Cultivating new partnerships is another approach to be pursued. The memorandum of understanding signed at the U.S.-Africa Leaders Summit in December, committing the United States to working with the DRC and Zambia to strengthen the EV value chain, has good potential. So does the Mineral Security Partnership, which includes Australia, Canada, Finland, France, Germany, Japan, South Korea, Sweden, the United Kingdom, the United States, and the European Commission. With some focused effort, the new pact could evolve from a discussion forum into a “buyers’ club” for minerals needed for batteries that might both reduce dependence on China and contribute to industrialization in countries producing the critical minerals, especially in Africa. The establishment of such a group would also have the benefit of helping America and some of its closest allies get past the spat over the subsidies offered in the IRA.

Finally, it needs to be recognized that, as Hochstein’s comments correctly implied, the single most significant threat is that any one country or entity so dominates supply chains that it is able, at will, to block rivals’ access to critical minerals and thus the pathway to transitioning to new energy systems.  That is certainly what the Biden administration’s supply chain review found with respect to lithium-ion batteries, concluding that by “operating well outside globally accepted practices,” China has been able to “develop battery critical materials infrastructure well-ahead of market drivers,” resulting in the country producing 79 percent of all batteries in the world, with just one Chinese firm (CATL) by itself controlling 30 percent of the global EV battery market. To this end, diversification of supply is the overriding priority and the key to de-risking, even if it might entail having to do business at times with countries or firms that might otherwise not be viewed as “clubbable.”

The dream of a greener economy, powered by lower carbon or even carbon-neutral energy systems, may not be as fanciful as once thought, but achieving it will depend on securing access to and a steady (and copious) supply of the necessary strategic materials.

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.

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Given the threat to free-market democracies posed by authoritarian and revisionist China and Russia, the G7 (Group of Seven), a club of wealthy industrialized democracies, needs to be expanded and strengthened. South Korea is the logical new member of this forum. As a G8 member, South Korea would make a valuable contribution to strengthening free-market democracy in the Indo-Pacific and around the world.

Despite the growing importance of the Indo-Pacific in the global economy and the burgeoning challenge from China to the rules-based international order, the G7 at present has only one member located in Asia, namely Japan. This imbalance needs to be corrected. The Indo-Pacific economies already contribute the largest share to the global economy, more than North America or the European Union, and they constitute the fastest-growing region of the global economy. It is high time that the G7 welcomed another member from the Indo-Pacific to make itself more relevant to this changing reality.

South Korea is the logical new G8 member from the Indo-Pacific because, next to Japan, it is the largest and wealthiest free-market democracy in Asia. Under the present government of Yoon Suk-yeol, Seoul is pursuing a foreign policy that aligns South Korea more firmly with the democratic West vis-à-vis China. A logical culmination of this present trajectory is for Seoul to join the G7.

South Korea is now one of the largest advanced economies and one of the top military powers in the world. Its GDP is similar to those of Italy and Canada, two current G7 members. Its military is ranked as one of the six most powerful in the world, and Seoul has become a major arms exporter to nations including Poland, while its troops are stationed in nations including the United Arab Emirates. Moreover, South Korea is a technological powerhouse, with leadership in key strategic industries including semiconductors and electric vehicle batteries. If G7 were to effectively address economic and geopolitical challenges around the world, having South Korea as a member would be very helpful.

For Seoul, joining the G7 would help strengthen its national security vis-à-vis the rising challenge from Beijing and would solidify its stature as a leading power of the democratic West. For centuries, Korea was a vassal to China, with Beijing exercising hegemony over its foreign relations. As a G8 member, South Korea would be recognized, along with Japan, as a bulwark of free-market democracy in the Indo-Pacific against Beijing’s ambitions for regional dominance. 

The only potential hurdle to South Korean membership in the G7 may be possible opposition from Japan, given historical irritants in relations between Tokyo and Seoul. But Japan would do well to realize that it has more to gain than to lose from South Korean membership in the G7. Japan needs South Korea as an indispensable key ally in the face of growing challenges from China and North Korea. Having Seoul as a G8 member would help improve cooperation between Tokyo and Seoul on a wide range of shared issues and challenges. As a G8 member, Seoul would likely strengthen Tokyo’s efforts to effectively form a coalition of nations committed to the rules-based international order in spite of Beijing’s revisionist expansionism.

From Washington’s point of view, Seoul as a G8 member would offer an important contribution to the U.S.-effort to defend and strengthen the rules-based international order, including its efforts to promote U.S.-Japan-South Korea trilateral cooperation against China and North Korea. Seoul’s admission would also enable better coordination among the world’s leading economic and technological powers to address burgeoning challenges posed by China’s technological and economic prowess.

As the Indo-Pacific has become more important than ever before, it is high time that the G7 adapted itself to this changing reality. Such adaptation begins by evolving the G7 from a club of mostly European and North American powers to a body more representative of the world’s economies and populations. Welcoming South Korea as a G8 member would be an effective and welcome first step, and should be supported by all current G7 members.

Jongsoo Lee is Senior Managing Director at Brock Securities and Center Associate at Harvard University’s Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies. He is also Adjunct Fellow at the Hawaii-based Pacific Forum and Contributing Editor at The Diplomat. He can be followed on Twitter at @jameslee004.

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The Nagorno-Karabakh conflict presents a diplomatic challenge for Ukraine as it seeks to balance its interests with its foreign policy priorities. Ukraine views conflicts in the post-Soviet space as remnants of the Soviet era, and the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict is no exception. However, the conflict also serves as a reminder of Ukraine’s ongoing war with Russia due to Russia’s repeated attempts to attack Ukraine’s sovereignty and borders. Therefore, Ukraine has been interested in supporting the preservation of Azerbaijan’s internationally recognized borders since 1991.

The conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh, also known as the Artsakh conflict, arose after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. Nagorno-Karabakh is an ethnic Armenian-majority region located within the borders of Azerbaijan. Ethnic Armenian forces in Nagorno-Karabakh declared independence from Azerbaijan in 1991, leading to a full-scale war between the two sides. A ceasefire was signed in 1994, but the conflict was never fully resolved, and tensions have remained high between the two sides.

The 2020 fighting saw Azerbaijan launch a military offensive to retake control of Nagorno-Karabakh with Turkish support. Ethnic Armenian forces could not hold off the Azerbaijan military, and Azerbaijan made significant gains in the region. A Russia-brokered ceasefire was signed in November 2020, but Azerbaijan had already secured control of much of Nagorno-Karabakh. 

The conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh resulted in significant casualties on both sides and displaced thousands of ethnic Armenians from the region. The conflict has also had broader regional implications, with Turkey’s involvement raising tensions with Russia. The resolution of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict remains an ongoing issue, with ongoing negotiations and efforts to find a lasting peace between Azerbaijan and Armenia.

Ukraine’s ongoing war with Russia, and the annexation of Crimea, has made Kyiv’s position on preserving the territorial integrity of neighboring states even more crucial. For over two decades, Ukraine has firmly stood by Azerbaijan in support of its territorial integrity and sovereignty. This unwavering stance, which has become more robust and consistent since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2014, is a reflection of Ukraine’s understanding of the importance of preserving internationally recognized borders in the post-Soviet space.

Furthermore, Ukraine’s refusal to recognize self-proclaimed states, such as Kosovo, is a strategic move aimed at protecting its own sovereignty and territorial integrity, given Russia’s repeated attempts to invade Ukraine’s borders.

Regarding any international conflict, Ukraine abides by the principle of territorial integrity. Most Ukrainian politicians and experts support this approach, which is reflected in Ukraine’s 2020 national security strategy, which declared Azerbaijan a strategic partner on par with Poland, Lithuania, and Georgia. Turkey, which is actively participating in the current conflict on Azerbaijan’s side, also has a strategic partnership with Ukraine.

In contrast, Armenia, a member of the Russia-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), has traditionally supported Russia in all votes on issues related to Crimea and Donbas. On the other hand, Azerbaijan has consistently voted in favor of Ukraine.

Given its foreign policy priorities and ongoing conflict with Russia, Ukraine has expressed support for Azerbaijan’s territorial integrity and sovereignty in the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict. President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has called for dialogue between Azerbaijan and Armenia and highlighted the “privileged dialogue” between the two countries in recent years. Zelenskyy has emphasized the importance of preventing the crisis from turning into a “frozen” conflict and urged for a swift resolution to the problems back in 2020.

Since 2014, the UN General Assembly has adopted nine resolutions related to the territorial integrity of Ukraine, the human rights situation in Crimea, and the region’s militarization. But, Armenia has voted against all nine resolutions on Crimea. Armenia has used this support for the concept of “self-determination” in Crimea as a justification for a similar process in Nagorno-Karabakh. However, this approach has moved further away from a peaceful settlement and has drawn Armenia closer to its main ally, Russia. 

While Russia has long been Armenia’s main military and political ally, Armenia’s dependence on Moscow for defense and security deepened further following the 2020 war with Azerbaijan. Armenia is heavily reliant on Russia for military equipment and officer training. In addition, Russia is Armenia’s leading trading partner, and in 2019, nearly half of all money transfers to Armenia came from the two million Armenians living and working in Russia. As a result, Armenia is constrained in its foreign policy choices and is obligated to align its voting behavior with Russia in international organizations.

For over two decades, Ukraine has stood as a steadfast ally of Azerbaijan, consistently supporting its territorial integrity since the first ceasefire in 1994. This unwavering stance, which has become more robust and consistent in the face of Russia’s aggression, speaks to the strategic importance of preserving internationally recognized borders in the post-Soviet space. Armenia’s dependence on the Russian state as an ally has put it at odds with Ukraine, making it unlikely that relations between both countries improve until Armenia distances itself from Russia.

David Kirichenko is a freelance journalist covering Eastern Europe and an editor at Euromaidan Press. He tweets @DVKirichenko.

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With his dramatic trip to Kyiv, President Joe Biden directly escalated his confrontation with Russian president Vladimir Putin—and with his Republican detractors at home. Biden, you could say, is all-in on standing by Ukraine against Russia’s war of aggression. His visit not only to Kyiv but also to Warsaw, where he will deliver a speech about the conflict, marks a pivotal moment. More than ever, Biden is signaling that he is a war president.

Biden’s critics like to paint him as an old duffer who is out of touch with contemporary realities. Sen. Rick Scott (R-FL) recently referred to him as “confused.” But his audacious trip to Kyiv showed no confusion. It demonstrated real moxie. So much for “Basement Biden.”

Nor was this all. The trip also underscored Biden’s diplomatic savvy. As a product of the Cold War era, Biden knows that he, and he alone, can exercise the leadership to bolster the Western alliance, which buckled but never disintegrated during the standoff with the Soviet Union, no matter how much pressure the Kremlin exerted upon it. It’s back to the future. Once more, Moscow is attempting to fracture NATO in the hopes of creating its own, anti-Western new world order.

Biden isn’t budging. He campaigned on restoring American democracy but has ended up defending it even more abroad. The Ukraine crisis plays to his strengths, allowing him to exercise the atrophied diplomatic and military muscles of the Western alliance to promote American predominance once again.

As Adrian Kubicki, the Polish consul-general in New York, told me, “President Biden’s visit to Ukraine and his following visit to Poland reaffirms the US’s strong commitment to continue its support to Ukraine and Ukrainians in their defense against Russian aggression. It is also an important message to Poland and other allies from the eastern flank of NATO that the security of the region is our common top priority. Poland and other B9 countries [the Bucharest Nine] will have an opportunity to discuss directly with President Biden what measures NATO should take in order to enhance our defense capabilities and security. This historic visit is a significant step forward towards the end of Russia’s war of choice.”

Biden’s emergence as a vigorous leader is not sitting well with his critics on the political Right who are scrambling to depict his courageous visit as misguided or worse. For them, the idea that politics stops at the water’s edge is so yesterday. This morning, for example, Florida governor Ron DeSantis told Fox & Friends, “I and many Americans are thinking to ourselves, OK, he’s very concerned about those borders halfway around the world. He’s not done anything to secure our own borders here… we have a lot of problems accumulating here.” He added that Russia has been exposed as a “third-rate military power.” Maybe so, but he conveniently ignored that the exposure would never have occurred had Biden not supported Ukraine in the first place.

Then there was Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene. In a tweet, she stated, “This is incredibly insulting. Today on our President’s Day, Joe Biden, the President of the United States chose Ukraine over America, while forcing the American people to pay for Ukraine’s government and war. I can not express how much Americans hate Joe Biden.” It’s a false choice. Biden isn’t picking Ukraine over America. He’s carefully countering Vladimir Putin’s ambition to create a new Russian empire that will directly menace Europe. Anyway, the idea that the conflict is “Ukraine’s war,” as she puts it, is a canard. Conservatives used to recoil at what they called blaming the victim. But that’s precisely what she is doing—creating a fictional narrative that Ukraine is the bad guy, responsible for triggering the war through its obstreperous behavior.  Since when does mere existence constitute a casus belli for being attacked?

Make no mistake: the Ukraine war will create a searing rift in the GOP. The old guard represented by Senate minority leader Mitch McConnell will champion the war against Ukraine. Presidential candidates like Nikki Haley and (presumably) Mike Pompeo will attack Biden for being too soft on foreign policy. But others in the GOP are chicken about backing Kyiv. Take Donald Trump. He will promote a policy of cowardly truckling to the Kremlin—charging that Biden bungled matters by not seeking a diplomatic solution, namely, handing over Ukraine to Putin on a silver platter as part and parcel of Russia’s legitimate sphere of influence. 

Acceding to Putin’s megalomaniacal desire to rub Ukraine from the map would likely spell the end of NATO. Putin’s hold on power inside Russia would be impregnable. The Baltic states would be next on his hit list. Meanwhile, China would be fortified in its ambition to gobble up Taiwan and expel America, as far as possible, from the Asian theater.

Biden has it right. In visiting Kyiv on the eve of the anniversary of the Russian invasion, he’s showing that America isn’t going AWOL. Instead, it’s staying on the field of fight.

Jacob Heilbrunn is editor of the National Interest.

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Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy told reporters last year that he wanted his country to become a “‘big Israel’ with its own face” after the Russian invasion ends, stressing that security would likely be the main issue in Ukraine during the postwar period.

Zelenskyy, who is Jewish, was drawing supposedly some parallels between the future of Ukraine and contemporary Israel, where the images of soldiers and armed civilians are commonplace, and the government invokes security frequently.

The Ukrainian president stressed that his vision for his country’s post-conflict future included having armed forces in “all institutions, supermarkets, cinemas, there will be people with weapons.”

And he has on several occasions stressed the importance of maintaining close ties with Israel, which he hailed as a model for Ukraine.

“I am sure that our security issue will be number one in the next 10 years,” Zelenskyy said, dismissing the idea that postwar Ukraine would emulate a liberal European democracy such as Switzerland as a model. He said that the Ukrainian people “will be our great army.”

But at the same time, Zelenskyy insisted that notwithstanding its security challenges Ukraine would remain a functioning democracy like Israel. However, he said that, like the Jewish state, Ukraine would not be “absolutely liberal, European”; it would have to undertake a different modus operandi that reflects its unique geo-political situation.

“Ukraine will definitely not be what we wanted it to be from the beginning. It is impossible,” he told members of the Ukrainian media during a briefing. “Absolutely liberal, European – it will not be like that. It [Ukraine] will definitely come from the strength of every house, every building, every person.”

But the bottom line, he stressed, was that Ukraine would not slide into authoritarianism like Russia, adding: “An authoritarian state would lose to Russia. People know what they are fighting for,” he said. Ukraine, he stressed, represented Western democratic values as it faced a threat to its existence from an anti-Western authoritarian regime that dominated the neighborhood.

Indeed, Zelenskyy has been employing the Israeli model of a modern and progressive democratic nation, representing the values and interests of the West, fighting for its survival against a ruthless and corrupt dictatorship that seeks to destroy it.

Like Israeli prime minister Benjamin (“Bibi”) Netanyahu, a former furniture salesman, Zelenskyy, a former comedian, has emerged an effective global marketing operator. He is telegenic and charismatic, fluent in American English, and familiar with the cultural codes of the Western elites’ political Zeitgeist.

And if Bibi, as some suggested, has tried to turn Israel into the fifty-first state of the United States, “Vlodko,” it seems at times, is hoping that his country was next in line to become the fifty-second state: A symbol of democratic values in a hostile region, with its educated population and an advanced economy, that could turn into another start-up nation, with a large and powerful diaspora, all translated into American congressional and public support.

Ironically, Israel, reflecting its complex ties with Russia—that for all practical purposes now maintains a protectorate in neighboring Syria—has resisted pleas from Kyiv for advanced weaponry. Air defense systems, in particular, have not been forthcoming and Israel has remained neutral in the war between Russia and Ukraine.

But the notion that Ukraine will try to be “like Israel” may not sound so farfetched. For instance, like the Jewish State, Ukraine enjoys wide public support among Americans and their representatives on Capitol Hill, who believe that the Ukrainians, like the Israelis, are “like them,” while the Russians, like the Arabs, are the detested “other.”

And, indeed, like in the case of Israel, Ukraine’s efforts to position itself as a natural ally of Washington, in both interests and values, has been accepted as a diplomatic axiom by powerful American foreign policy forces. Both Republican neoconservatives as well as many “conservative nationalists” on the political Right, and by liberal internationalists who dominate the thinking among Democrats, including the one currently occupying the White House, have come on board.

For many Americans, the notion of an alliance with Israel is accepted today as a given, one more example of how history is seen sometimes as moving in a linear direction (“tides of history”). But much of what happens in international relations is less a reflection of the wisdom of history and more contingent on unexpected developments, or for that matter, cannot be explained by what political scientists refer to as a “rational actor model.” Instead, it is a product of clashes between personalities, bureaucratic rivalries, and Niccolo Machiavelli’s fortuna, those circumstances which human beings cannot control, and in particular, the character of the times.

From that perspective, the American relationship with Israel evolved not as part of an effort to protect or advance U.S. national interests in the Middle East. In fact, the members of the Washington foreign policy establishment, led by then-Secretary of State George Marshall, had opposed U.S. recognition of Israel in 1948 based on the consideration that Americans needed to win the support of the Arab states, in particular the Gulf oil-producing nations, to strategically protect Western interests at the onset of the Cold War with the Soviet Union (as well as out of fears that the United States could be drawn into an Arab-Israeli war).

Much has been said and written about the reasons that then-President Harry Truman rejected Marshall’s advice and established ties with the newly created Israel. Suffice to note that his decision was driven by the same reasons that large segments of the American public and elites supported Zionism at the time, which include Christian attachment to the Promised Land and the People of the Book, the impact of the European Holocaust and the plight of the Jewish refugees fleeing postwar Europe, and the existence of a politically active Jewish community.

Yet the United States had imposed an arms embargo on Israel until the early 1960s and clashed with Israel over numerous issues, including its decision to join France and Britain in attacking Egypt in 1956, forcing it to withdraw its troops from Sinai, as well as over its conflict with the pro-American Jordan, and later on, over its development of nuclear military power.

And when it came to values, Israel was ruled during its early years by a socialist government and elite that only reluctantly decided to support the American side during the Korean War.

Hence the notion of an “alliance” between the United States and Israel only started to make sense after the 1967 Six Day War, and the launching of a pre-emptive Israeli military strike against Egypt after receiving a “yellow” light from then President Lyndon Johnson to take action. Driven by U.S. support for Israel, anti-Americanism in the Arab World reached its peak during the 1973 Yom Kippur War and the ensuing oil embargo against the United States.

Notwithstanding all the talk about Israel’s being America’s “strategic asset” in the Middle East during the Cold War, the military contribution of the Jewish state to America’s victory over the Soviet Union was marginal, mostly by protecting Jordan against outside threats and sharing critical intelligence.

If anything, in addition to igniting anti-American sentiments in the Arab and the Muslim World during the Cold War, American support for Israel brought the United States and USSR to the brink of nuclear conflict during the Yom Kippur War and forced the United States into costly military interventions in the Middle East, like in the aftermath of the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982.

But if you were a Zionist who believed that Israel’s survival aligned with America’s sense of its own history and identity, like the majority of Congressional Democrats and Republicans and most Americans did, the suggestions that support for Israel failed to align with Realpolitik-based considerations or that Israel wasn’t a perfect democracy were beside the point. Those sentiments were demonstrated by the massive military and economic assistance Washington has provided Jerusalem through the years and its unyielding diplomatic backing for Israel.

Therefore, although Zelenskyy may recognize that Realpolitik may dictate limits on the U.S. support for Ukraine, a scenario exists in which the United States, like in the case of Israel, is gradually drawn into an alliance of sorts with Kyiv that goes beyond just trying to re-establish the status quo that existed before Russia’s invasion.

Like the Arab-Israeli conflict, the long-standing conflict between Ukraine and Russia over issues related to national rights, ethnic identity, borders, and sovereignty does not touch directly upon American interests or even values, involving issues like who should control the West Bank or for that matter, Crimea.

But then Israel and its American supporters have been successful in gaining U.S. support for its positions in the conflict with the Arabs, including its refusal to allow the 1947 Arab refugees to return to Israel proper, and most recently, in the decision to recognize Jerusalem as Israel’s capital as well its annexation of the Golan Heights. Hence, perhaps Kyiv could win American backing for its demand that it, and not Russia, rightfully controls Crimea.

Indeed, Zelenskyy hopes that in the same way that the majority of Americans continue to instinctively side with Israel and lack sympathy for the Arab side, most Americans would feel the same about the conflict between the Ukrainians and the Russians.

But at a time when even Israel finds it difficult to continue holding to its support among the majority of Americans, Zelenskyy may discover that even being “like Israel” doesn’t do the trick.

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 (Hebrew).

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