Provider of in-depth & balanced analysis on hot issues around the world

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Last week, the Trump administration signed a deal with Ukraine that gives it privileged access to Ukraine’s natural resources. Some news outlets described the deal as Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky “caving” to US President Donald Trump’s demands. But we see the agreement as the result of clever bargaining on the part of Ukraine’s war-time president. So, what does the deal mean for Ukraine? And will this help strengthen America’s mineral supply chains? Ukraine’s natural resource wealth Ukraine is home to 5% of the world’s critical mineral wealth, including 22 of the 34 minerals identified by the European Union as vital for defence, construction and high-tech manufacturing. However, there’s a big difference between resources (what’s in the ground) and reserves (what can be commercially exploited). Ukraine’s proven mineral reserves are limited. Further, Ukraine has an estimated mineral wealth of around US$14.8 trillion (A$23 trillion), but more than half of this is in territories currently occupied by Russia. What does the new deal mean for Ukraine? American support for overseas conflict is usually about securing US economic interests — often in the form of resource exploitation. From the Middle East to Asia, US interventions abroad have enabled access for American firms to other countries’ oil, gas and minerals. But the first iteration of the Ukraine mineral deal, which Zelensky rejected in February, had been an especially brazen resource grab by Trump’s government. It required Ukraine to cede sovereignty over its land and resources to one country (the US), in order to defend itself from attacks by another (Russia). These terms were highly exploitative of a country fighting against a years-long military occupation. In addition, they violated Ukraine’s constitution, which puts the ownership of Ukraine’s natural resources in the hands of the Ukrainian people. Were Zelensky to accept this, he would have faced a tremendous backlash from the public. In comparison, the new deal sounds like a strategic and (potentially) commercial win for Ukraine. First, this agreement is more just, and it’s aligned with Ukraine’s short- and medium-term interests. Zelenksy describes it as an “equal partnership” that will modernise Ukraine. Under the terms, Ukraine will set up a United States–Ukraine Reconstruction Investment Fund for foreign investments into the country’s economy, which will be jointly governed by both countries. Ukraine will contribute 50% of the income from royalties and licenses to develop critical minerals, oil and gas reserves, while the US can make its contributions in-kind, such as through military assistance or technology transfers. Ukraine maintains ownership over its natural resources and state enterprises. And the licensing agreements will not require substantial changes to the country’s laws, or disrupt its future integration with Europe. Importantly, there is no mention of retroactive debts for the US military assistance already received by Ukraine. This would have created a dangerous precedent, allowing other nations to seek to claim similar debts from Ukraine. Finally, the deal also signals the Trump administration’s commitment to “a free, sovereign and prosperous Ukraine” – albeit, still without any security guarantees. Profits may be a long time coming Unsurprisingly, the Trump administration and conservative media in the US are framing the deal as a win. For too long, Trump argues, Ukraine has enjoyed US taxpayer-funded military assistance, and such assistance now has a price tag. The administration has described the deal to Americans as a profit-making endeavour that can recoup monies spent defending Ukrainian interests. But in reality, profits are a long way off. The terms of the agreement clearly state the fund’s investment will be directed at new resource projects. Existing operations and state-owned projects will fall outside the terms of the agreement. Mining projects typically work within long time frames. The move from exploration to production is a slow, high-risk and enormously expensive process. It can often take over a decade. Add to this complexity the fact that some experts are sceptical Ukraine even has enormously valuable reserves. And to bring any promising deposits to market will require major investments. What’s perhaps more important It’s possible, however, that profits are a secondary calculation for the US. Boxing out China is likely to be as – if not more – important. Like other Western nations, the US is desperate to diversify its critical mineral supply chains. China controls not just a large proportion of the world’s known rare earths deposits, it also has a monopoly on the processing of most critical minerals used in green energy and defence technologies. The US fears China will weaponise its market dominance against strategic rivals. This is why Western governments increasingly make mineral supply chain resilience central to their foreign policy and defence strategies. Given Beijing’s closeness to Moscow and their deepening cooperation on natural resources, the US-Ukraine deal may prevent Russia — and, by extension, China — from accessing Ukrainian minerals. The terms of the agreement are explicit: “states and persons who have acted adversely towards Ukraine must not benefit from its reconstruction”. Finally, the performance of “the deal” matters just as much to Trump. Getting Zelensky to sign on the dotted line is progress in itself, plays well to Trump’s base at home, and puts pressure on Russian President Vladimir Putin to come to the table. So, the deal is a win for Zelensky because it gives the US a stake in an independent Ukraine. But even if Ukraine’s critical mineral reserves turn out to be less valuable than expected, it may not matter to Trump.

Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском “Changes! We’re waiting for changes!” proclaimed Viktor Tsoi nearly 40 years ago, at the dawn of the Soviet perestroika. If one were to summarize the multitude of diverse and contradictory events, trends, and sentiments of the past year in a single phrase, it would be that the modern world is eagerly awaiting change. Much like the former USSR in the 1980s, few today can clearly define what these changes should entail or what their ultimate outcome will be. Yet, the idea of maintaining the status quo has evidently found little favor with the public over the past year. This impatient anticipation of change was reflected, for instance, in the outcomes of numerous elections held over the past 12 months across the globe. In total, more than 1.6 billion people went to the polls, and in most cases, supporters of the status quo lost ground. In the United States, the Democrats suffered a resounding defeat to the Republicans, while in the United Kingdom, the Conservatives were decisively beaten by the Labour Party. In France, Emmanuel Macron's once-dominant ruling party found itself squeezed between right-wing and left-wing opposition, plunging the Fifth Republic into a deep political crisis. The seemingly stable foundations of political centrism were shaken in Germany, South Korea, and Japan. Even the party of the highly popular Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi failed to retain its parliamentary majority after the elections, and in South Africa, the African National Congress led by Cyril Ramaphosa also lost its majority. Pessimists might argue that abandoning the status quo in itself solves no problems, and the much-anticipated changes, as the final years of the Soviet Union demonstrated, do not necessarily lead to positive outcomes. Replacing cautious technocrats with reckless populists often backfires, affecting those most critical of the entrenched status quo. Optimists, on the other hand, would counter that the rusted structures of state machinery everywhere are in desperate need of radical modernization. They would add that the costs inevitably associated with maintaining the existing state of affairs at all costs far outweigh any risks tied to attempts to change it. The international events of the past year are also open to various interpretations. Pessimists would undoubtedly point out that none of the major armed conflicts carried over from 2023 were resolved in 2024. On the contrary, many of them showed clear tendencies toward escalation. For instance, in late summer, Ukraine launched an incursion into the Kursk region of Russia, and in mid-November, the U.S. authorized Kyiv to use long-range ATACMS missiles against targets deep within Russian territory. Meanwhile, the military operation launched by Israel in Gaza in the fall of 2023 gradually expanded to the West Bank, then to southern Lebanon, and by the end of 2024, to parts of Syrian territory adjacent to the Golan Heights. From the optimists' perspective, however, the past year demonstrated that the disintegration of the old international system has its limits. A direct military confrontation between Russia and NATO did not occur, nor did a large-scale regional war break out in the Middle East, the Taiwan Strait, or the Korean Peninsula. The economic results of 2024 are equally ambiguous. On one hand, the global economy remained heavily influenced by geopolitics throughout the year. The process of “technological decoupling” between the U.S. and China continued, and unilateral sanctions firmly established themselves as a key instrument of Western foreign policy. On the other hand, the world managed to avoid a deep economic recession despite the numerous trade and investment restrictions. Global economic growth for the year is expected to reach around 3%, which is quite respectable for such turbulent times, especially considering that the long-term effects of the COVID-19 pandemic have not yet been fully overcome. In 2024, the average annual global temperature exceeded pre-industrial levels by more than 1,5 °C for the first time, crossing another critical “red line”. However, the UN Climate Change Conference (COP29) held in November in Baku fell short of many expectations. At the same time, China reached its peak carbon emissions by the end of the year, achieving this milestone a full five years ahead of previously announced plans. In the past year, the UN Security Council managed to adopt only 12 resolutions, mostly of a humanitarian nature, clearly reflecting the declining effectiveness of this global governance body. For comparison, in 2000, the Security Council approved 29 resolutions, including key decisions on conflict resolution in the Balkans and Africa. At the same time, 2024 saw continued efforts to explore new formats for multilateral cooperation, including mechanisms within the BRICS group, which held its 16th summit in Kazan for the first time in its newly expanded composition. With enough imagination, one can easily find evidence in the past 12 months to confirm any omen or superstition traditionally associated with leap years. However, all these signs and superstitions predicting upheavals and catastrophes—while aligning with the pessimistic conclusions about the year now ending—do not apply to the year ahead. Human nature, after all, tends to lean more towards optimism than pessimism; if it were the other way around, we would still be living in caves. As they bid farewell to a difficult and challenging year, people around the world continue to hope for better times. And the mere act of hoping for the best is already significant in itself. As Johann Wolfgang von Goethe aptly remarked, “Our wishes are forebodings of our capabilities, harbingers of what we are destined to achieve”. Originally published in Izvestia.