Subscribe to our weekly newsletters for free

Subscribe to an email

If you want to subscribe to World & New World Newsletter, please enter
your e-mail

Energy & Economics
Climate migration vector illustration word cloud isolated on a white background.

Pathways to respond to climate change, forced displacement, and conflict challenges

by Edoardo Borgomeo , Anders Jägerskog

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Abstract The collision of climate impacts with forced displacement and conflict renders efforts to promote peace and development particularly challenging. Most of the academic literature to date has focused on exploring and predicting causal links between climate change, conflict, and forced displacement. Much less attention has been paid to the need to inform actual policy interventions and responses, particularly to support climate-resilient development. Here, we address this gap and develop a decision framework to inform long-term climate responses in contexts affected by conflict and forced displacement. Building upon previous World Bank policy reports and the authors’ professional experience, we suggest that a focus on decision pathways can help inform a long-term, development response to conflict, forced displacement, and climate challenges. Pathways capture the sequence of interventions that are required to reduce climate risks in contexts affected by conflict and forced displacement. They also offer an opportunity for aligning climate change adaptation interventions, such as water storage or flood embankments, with peacebuilding and stabilization initiatives. Case studies from Lebanon and South Sudan are discussed to illustrate the pathways approach to climate adaptation in contexts affected by conflict and forced displacement. 1. Introduction Research and policy analysis on climate change, migration, and conflict have expanded significantly in recent years (Swain et al., 2023; Von Uexkull and Buhaug, 2021). Attention has been mostly devoted to answering questions of causality, trying to unpack the complex causal linkages between these issues (e.g., Abel et al., 2019), and viewing climate as a “driver” of security risks. While research on causality has yielded important insights into some of the potential channels through which climate change might affect human mobility and conflict, it has also been criticized for its lack of nuance and context sensitivity (Brzoska and Fröhlich, 2016). Moreover, it has led to some statements about conflict–climate relationships, especially in the context of the Syrian civil war, that largely fail to account for broader political economy considerations and are, as such, unhelpful from a policy perspective and unwarranted from a scientific perspective (Daoudy, 2020; de Châtel, 2014; Fröhlich, 2016). Here, we argue that rather than attempting to quantify and model causal linkages between climate, migration, and conflict, research should focus more on questions of policy and intervention design. This will address urgent needs to anticipate people’s movements and to find lasting solutions to displacement caused by conflict- and climate-related factors (African Union and International Organisation for Migration, 2024). A focus on solutions and policy design will also support governments in conflict-affected areas in adopting a position on climate security and in prioritizing scarce development resources to address climate security risks (International Crisis Group, 2025). A focus on policy and intervention design requires understanding two sets of interactions. First, the impacts of climate risks—encompassing hazard, exposure, and vulnerability—on efforts to address protracted conflict and migration. For example, there is little knowledge of the drought and flood hazards faced by forcibly displaced populations living in refugee camps under high-end climate change scenarios, or of the effects that short-term humanitarian responses to flood hazards might have on exacerbating long-term flood exposure in conflict-affected areas. Second, the impacts of efforts to advance climate change adaptation or mitigation on forced displacement and conflict risks. For example, there is little knowledge of the potential conflict and forced displacement risks arising from investments in climate infrastructure (e.g., flood embankments, irrigation) in certain contexts. This perspective focuses on these interactions and presents a decision framework for evaluating options to address forced displacement and conflict challenges while not exacerbating the climate risks faced by populations. The perspective specifically focuses on the role of water development interventions in influencing interactions between forced displacement responses and climate risks. Forced displacement is interpreted as situations where individuals or communities leave or flee their homes due to conflict, violence, persecution, and human rights violations. 2. Promoting climate-resilient development in situations of protracted forced displacement2.1. Decision points and path dependencies shape success in development responses When responding to protracted forced displacement situations, policymakers will likely face trade-offs between short-term uncoordinated measures to respond to immediate risks (e.g., lack of drinking water supplies, temporary flood embankments) and long-term measures needed to address structural issues (e.g., provision of sustainable water services, land-use zoning to reduce flood exposure) (Borgomeo et al. 2021). These trade-offs are time-specific, meaning that they can create path dependencies and lock-in, thus influencing countries’ ability to achieve stability and climate-resilient development over the long term. Hence, at different stages of a protracted forced displacement crisis, policymakers need to be cognizant that their efforts can undermine or support long-term policy objectives such as climate resilience and peace. Building upon Borgomeo et al. (2021), we propose a framework (Figure 1) that identifies three decision points at which specific trade-offs shape future development and climate resilience paths: • Prevention and pre-crisis coordination and planning• Responding to protracted forced displacement• Preparing for recovery and return  Figure 1. Decision points and impact of climate and water-related events at various stages of conflict and forced displacement cycle. Adapted from Lund (1996). The framework adapts Lund’s peace and conflict cycle (Lund, 1996) to the specific case of climate change, conflict, and forced displacement responses. The bell-shaped curve in Figure 1 is a stylized representation of the potential course of a complex forced displacement and conflict crisis, with the vertical axis representing the intensity of the crisis, and the horizontal axis representing time. Different conflict and forced displacement crises will follow different curves: responses can prevent or reduce the risks of the crisis escalating further. Moreover, climate-related events might make addressing the crisis more challenging, exacerbating risks of armed violence, or perpetuating forced displacement cycles. At each of the decision points in Figure 1, policymakers need to explore trade-offs between addressing short-term needs and achieving longer-term development. Policymakers confront a series of choices through time; their choices will determine a “pathway” and the type of outcomes they can achieve. Figure 2 shows three examples of pathways that emerge (from left to right) depending on choices made at each of the three decision points. While timing and responses will be context-specific, these decision points are likely to arise in any protracted forced displacement situation, making the framework shown in Figures 1 and 2 generally applicable in different contexts.  Figure 2. Decision points shape three example pathways to respond to climate change, forced displacement, and conflict challenges. Prevention and pre-crisis coordination and planning At Decision point 1, in a situation where the crisis has not yet materialized, building preparedness through coordination between development, humanitarian, and security actors is essential. Development actors have access to ministries and service providers and should ensure that these public sector entities that are tasked with providing climate-related information (e.g., hydrometeorological services), managing water, and delivering services establish functional links with humanitarian and security actors (World Bank, ICRC and UNICEF 2021). Development actors should promote and support data collection and information-sharing protocols to build a common understanding across parties involved in climate-related sectors in fragile contexts. For example, a joint understanding of water resource availability and safe deployable outputs (i.e., the quantity of water that can be consumed without compromising it through depletion or salinization) and of water governance structures can ensure that humanitarian actors have a better understanding of when and where water resources might be compromised or depleted during a crisis. This joint understanding also involves mapping critical interconnected infrastructure systems, notably energy, digital, and water infrastructure, and ensuring that there are no single points of failure that—if targeted—can bring down the entire system (Weinthal and Sowers, 2020). Similarly, joint understanding should be developed in the area of flood and drought hazards, to prevent any potential crisis responses from further exacerbating exposure to climate impacts, for example, by locating refugee camps in flood-prone areas. Response to protracted forced displacement During a protracted forced displacement crisis, policymakers face significant trade-offs between short-term responses to meet immediate needs and long-term measures that address underlying sector weaknesses (Figure 2, decision point 2). Overreliance on temporary solutions provided by humanitarian actors and private sector providers can undermine long-term institutional ability to provide sector oversight, understand climate risks, and deliver services. Moreover, it might paradoxically exacerbate vulnerability and exposure to climate hazards leading to lock-in, where temporary responses perpetuate, delay, or prevent a transition to more sustainable and long-term adaptation to climate shocks (Pathway 1 in Figure 2). Two examples help elucidate the type of trade-offs that might emerge at decision point 2. In the case of water service delivery, private water vendors might be interested in maintaining control of water distribution even after the crisis ends, complicating the transition to a sustainable and affordable water delivery model. They might also avoid protecting water sources from pollution and overexploitation or promote the drilling of new wells, contributing to an uncontrolled expansion of unlicensed users and exacerbating vulnerability to droughts under climate change. This pathway has been observed in Yemen, for example, where most urban residents are supplied by privately operated tanker trucks, with ensuing issues for affordability, public health, sustainability of water use, and long-term resilience to drought (Abu-Lohom et al. 2018). In the case of flood risk management for forcibly displaced communities, short-term responses can have profound implications for future climate resilience and vulnerability. Forcibly displaced communities often relocate to marginal lands exposed to water-related hazards, such as landslides and floods. This pattern has been observed in several contexts, such as Colombia (Few et al., 2021), Sierra Leone (Gbanie et al., 2018), and South Sudan (Borgomeo et al., 2023). Once the forced displacement crisis and conflict end, these communities are likely to experience heightened climate impacts because they settle in areas highly exposed to floods and landslides. These communities might also receive inequitable benefits from recovery efforts, as settlements on marginal lands are often considered illegal and therefore not serviced by infrastructure. In turn, this might make historical grievances resurge, heightening the risk of relapse into conflict and hindering efforts to build government legitimacy and trust. Although sustainability of use, resource protection, and land use planning might not seem like priorities in the short term, they are key tenets of a development approach to the forced displacement crisis at decision point 2. Often, short-term responses, such as drilling a well, can have long-term impacts on the sustainability of both short- and long-term interventions by inevitably depleting or contaminating water resources. Similarly, short-term responses to settlement issues can also aggravate exposure to climate impacts. A development approach focused on addressing urgent needs while responding to structural challenges is better able to achieve long-term climate resilience and stability outcomes. In the context of water service delivery, this approach entails rationalizing the use of existing water resources and prioritizing demand-side solutions (e.g., reducing water use) to avoid placing additional pressures on already strained supplies (Borgomeo et al. 2021). In the context of flood risk management, this entails using integrated gray and green solutions to respond to flood risks and adopting floodplain zoning strategies. A longer-term approach might also combine short-term humanitarian actions with interventions that support the business continuity of water service providers and water resource management agencies with one-off capital injections or specific staff support programs to prevent brain drain. Although a development approach helps to address water sector issues in host countries, it might be challenging to adopt in practice. In already politically fragile and financially stretched contexts, governments might not be willing or able to provide water services or protection to forcibly displaced communities. In turn, this leaves humanitarian actors or unregulated private vendors to meet the immediate needs of vulnerable populations. However, these short-term responses might be counterproductive in the long run because they might create patterns of inclusion and exclusion between host communities and forcibly displaced populations, making integration and cohesion harder to achieve (Pathway 2 in Figure 2). When host communities perceive that forcibly displaced populations are receiving better services through humanitarian actors, this can fuel grievances against the forcibly displaced populations and the state. While temporary solutions might offer a relatively easier way to respond to forced displacement, they can also lead to lock-in and foreclose alternatives in the long term for host countries. The different responses to the Syrian refugee crisis observed in Jordan, Lebanon, and Türkiye demonstrate this problem: the water security of forcibly displaced populations and their host communities varies significantly depending on host countries’ willingness and ability to adopt a long-term development approach to the crisis rather than short-term temporary solutions. Preparation for recovery and return A third decision point relates to a post-conflict situation of recovery, peacebuilding, and potential return of the forcibly displaced. At this point, water- and climate-related interventions need to be integrated within broader plans for reconciliation and for extending basic services to camps and informal settlements, rehabilitating infrastructure, and expanding the capacity of existing urban water systems to respond to higher demand (Pathway 3 in Figure 2). For example, a higher presence of refugees in urban areas can increase water demands, highlighting the need to upgrade and in some cases increase the capacity of existing supply and sanitation infrastructure. This demand growth is different from normal surges in demand for water services, which are typically short-lived increases in demand in response to weather conditions or public health measures (e.g., COVID-19 lockdowns). In contrast to these demand surges, forced displacement causes long-lasting increases in service demand, thus requiring a master plan and long-term response. For water utilities and service providers, restoring and expanding services will be an opportunity to improve service quality for their constituents and customers while avoiding the promotion of exclusionary practices that benefit factional interests and that can contribute to fragility (Sadoff et al 2017). A development approach to recovery and return should also consider a regional perspective. Following a protracted forced displacement crisis, new economic realities and incentives might arise. In some situations, the forcibly displaced populations might not intend to go back to their place of origin (as reported by some Syrian refugees) (IPA, 2020). In this case, it might make more economic sense for development actors to prioritize the use of scarce financial resources to support the expansion of water infrastructure in the host country rather than to rebuild infrastructure in the place of origin. A regional perspective also helps to identify opportunities to share benefits from transboundary waters and identify regionally beneficial approaches to water management. 3. Insights from balancing and sequencing development interventions to respond to climate, conflict, and forced displacement challengesLebanon: addressing the needs of the forcibly displaced and their host communities in situations of crisis At the height of the Syrian crisis in 2014, the Lebanese authorities estimated that around 1.5 million Syrian refugees had entered Lebanon, causing the country’s population to increase by almost 25% (World Bank 2018). Lebanon chose not to establish refugee camps, and the majority of the Syrians settled amid Lebanese communities in urban and rural areas. The sudden increase in demand for services placed significant pressure upon already limited and poorly performing infrastructure. In 2014, the Ministry of Environment estimated that domestic water demand had increased by 43 million m3 to 70 million m3 a year, which corresponds to an increase in overall national water demand of between 8% and 12% (Ministry of Environment of Lebanon 2014). This crisis took place against a backdrop of growing water-related hazards including increasing drought hazards because of climate change, and also chronic water scarcity caused by decades of underinvestment in water systems and soaring water demands (World Bank 2017). Faced with this situation of crisis (decision point 2 above), the Republic of Lebanon, with support from the World Bank, adopted a long-term response strategy that intervened in host communities in a way that benefited both hosts and refugees. Rather than creating a parallel system of assistance only for the forcibly displaced, the Lebanon Municipal Services Emergency Project targeted both the host community and Syrian refugees through infrastructure and social interventions (World Bank 2018). Community social interventions were urgent and indispensable to complement water and energy service delivery as well as to support the long-term objective of enhancing social cohesion and living conditions. Based on consultations, communities prioritized 12 social interventions around five themes—environmental awareness, employment training, skills training, health, and social cohesion—for both Lebanese and Syrians, with a focus on women, youth, and children (World Bank 2018). Infrastructure interventions addressed urgent community priorities which were also identified through community consultations involving both forcibly displaced and host communities. This included installing solar pumps to improve the reliability of water supplies and improve the ability to meet growing water demand. This had the additional advantage of reducing electricity costs for the financially weak water utility. South Sudan: water as an enabler of durable solutions for the forcibly displaced South Sudan is the main source of refugees in Sub-Saharan Africa and hosts one of the world’s largest internally displaced populations (IDPs) (UNHCR, 2025). The country presents a multilayered mix of IDPs, asylum seekers, refugees, returnees, stateless persons, and persons at risk of statelessness. South Sudan is also among the most vulnerable countries to climate change, ranking as the second most vulnerable country to natural hazards such as floods and droughts in the world, according to the 2024 INFORM Risk Index. Forced displacement was traditionally associated with armed conflict, but in recent years water-related disasters, notably floods, have triggered large-scale internal and cross-border displacement (UNHCR, 2021). These sobering statistics position South Sudan as one of the global hotspots where urgent responses at the nexus of climate change, forced displacement, and conflict are needed. At the time of writing, South Sudan confronts a situation of relative stability and an urgent need to address the needs of IDPs and returnees (decision point 3). Since 2018, the country has faced unprecedented floods, which have contributed to protracted cycles of displacement. These floods are directly linked to rainfall patterns in the African Great Lakes region, where the Bahr el Jebel (White Nile) originates, and in the Ethiopian Highlands. Because of South Sudan’s very flat landscape and impermeable soils, flooding persists for a long time, posing long-term challenges for climate adaptation. The country also faces a water supply and sanitation crisis, with about 60% of the population using unimproved sources at risk from contamination (Borgomeo et al., 2023). Decision-makers face stark trade-offs between temporary fixes and long-term, durable solutions that lay the foundation for sustainable service delivery and flood risk management over the long term. In the context of South Sudan, the provision of water services is an area where the Government has identified the importance of transitioning towards long-term solutions instead of just relying on temporary humanitarian actions. This provides an example of how responses to decision point 3 can help countries gradually improve climate resilience and water security while addressing the urgent needs of the forcibly displaced. The provision of clean drinking water in areas of return or local integration is one of the Six Priority Areas under the South Sudan 2021 Durable Solutions Strategy, highlighting that water availability is a governing factor in the government’s response to forced displacement. The strategy recognizes that without access to water supply and sanitation services, local integration processes, voluntary returns, and relocations cannot materialize. Durable solutions are achieved when individuals no longer have specific assistance or protection needs linked to displacement and represent the closure of the displacement cycle. The Government of South Sudan and a range of humanitarian partners developed a WASH Transition Strategy for Former Protection of Civilian (PoC) Sites, to ensure that the responsibility for maintaining and operating WASH facilities is progressively transferred to local populations and the responsible local authorities. The WASH Transition Strategy for Former PoC Sites, through the WASH exPoC Task Force, is contributing to building the capacity of the responsible local authorities who should become responsible and accountable for ensuring regular services to eventually promote suitable solutions for IDPs by creating service conditions conducive to durable solutions (returns and local integration) (WASH Cluster South Sudan, 2021). In several locations, multisectoral plans are being developed at the site level, including transition plans for security, services, and community engagement (WASH Cluster South Sudan, 2022). The challenge of providing durable solutions to forced displacement in South Sudan is extremely complex: because the security conditions in multiple parts of the country remain fragile and the impacts of climate change are increasing. The country’s efforts to advance durable solutions in terms of water services show that it is indeed possible to take a long-term view of forced displacement as one that is complementary to humanitarian efforts; focuses on medium-term socioeconomic aspects; is government-led and places particular attention on institutions and policies. While water service delivery has been included in the Government’s durable solutions plan, the issue of flood risks under climate change remains largely unaddressed, posing significant challenges to break the forced displacement cycle and build climate resilience in the country. The scale of the flood challenge and the risk of regional spillovers call for more regional and international attention to climate security risks in South Sudan (International Crisis Group, 2025). Research and policy should focus on identifying opportunities to link climate adaptation interventions to broader reconciliation and stabilization efforts at local and national levels. 4. Discussion and conclusions This perspective focuses on the design of interventions to respond to complex challenges at the nexus of climate change, migration, and conflict. It suggests that sequencing and trade-offs need to be considered when implementing humanitarian interventions, to avoid perpetuating existing vulnerabilities or delaying opportunities to pursue climate-resilient development. This perspective also highlights that development and humanitarian actors should work more closely together to align perspectives and create a level of readiness for when a crisis occurs. The perspective identifies three specific decision points that can help focus planning and interactions among the different stakeholders from the humanitarian, security, and development sectors involved in crisis response. Frameworks based on pathways and decision points, such as the one presented here, have been found valuable in guiding decision-making and design of interventions in the field of water security (Garrick and Hall, 2014) and climate adaptation under uncertainty (Haasnoot et al., 2024). However, their application for intervention design and implementation at the humanitarian-development nexus is limited and likely to be affected by stakeholder cultures and objectives. Moreover, a focus on decision points and pathways requires capabilities to conduct monitoring and options identification and assessment which are often absent in contexts characterized by fragility and conflict. Moving forward, research should focus on developing models and frameworks that can help design and monitor effective policy responses at the climate change, migration, and conflict nexus. First, research should attempt to develop typologies of climate adaptation and water interventions to address conflict and forced migration challenges, including an assessment of their potential to increase risks of conflict and violence (see Gilmore and Buhaug, 2021 for an example in relation to climate mitigation policies). Typologies will help design interventions and compare experiences across different geographies and settings. Second, research should focus less on ex-post analysis or future predictions and concentrate more on careful monitoring and evaluation of ongoing climate change adaptation and conflict-resolution and peacebuilding interventions. This will help inform the early stages of policy implementation (including options assessment and monitoring strategies mentioned above), support learning, and help with early identification of risks of relapse into conflict. Finally, analysts have highlighted several challenges related to access to climate finance in contexts affected by conflict and forced displacement (Cao et al., 2021; Meijer and Ahmad 2024). Research should examine opportunities for climate finance to support the transition from humanitarian to long-term development approaches in a context characterized by fragility and conflict. This includes creating frameworks to evaluate project contributions to financiers’ objectives, as well as improved evidence on the need for urgent climate adaptation among conflict and forcibly displaced communities worldwide. Acknowledgments Findings, interpretations, and conclusions expressed in this paper are entirely those of the authors. They do not necessarily represent the views of the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development/World Bank and its affiliated organizations, or those of the Executive Directors of the World Bank or the governments they represent, or of the Global Water Security and Sanitation Partnership. Funding The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This article is partly derived from Chapter 4 of the World Bank report Ebb and Flow, Volume 2: Water in the Shadow of Conflict in the Middle East and North Africa. As such, it benefited from funding from the World Bank and the Global Water Security and Sanitation Partnership. Data availability statement This article is not based on any new data and it contains practitioner insights based on the authors’ experience. References Abel G. J., Brottrager M., Cuaresma J. C., Muttarak R. (2019). Climate, conflict and forced migration. Global Environmental Change, 54, 239–249.Abu-Lohom N. M., Konishi Y., Mumssen Y., Zabara B., Moore S. M. (2018). Water supply in a war zone: A preliminary analysis of two urban water tanker supply systems in the Republic of Yemen. World Bank Publications.African Union and International Organisation for Migration. (2024). Africa Migration Report. Second Edition. PUB2023/132/R. African Union.Borgomeo E., Chase C., Godoy N. S., Kwadwo V. O. (2023). Rising from the depths: Water security and fragility in South Sudan. World Bank Publications.Borgomeo E., Jägerskog A., Zaveri E., Russ J., Khan A., Damania R. (2021). Ebb and flow: Volume 2. Water in the shadow of conflict in the Middle East and North Africa. World Bank Publications.Brzoska M., Fröhlich C. (2016). Climate change, migration and violent conflict: vulnerabilities, pathways and adaptation strategies. Migration and Development, 5(2), 190–210.Cao Y., Alcayna T., Quevedo A., Jarvie J. (2021). Exploring the conflict blind spots in climate adaptation finance. Synthesis Report. London: Overseas Development Institute. Enable Finance for Climate-Change Adaptation in Conflict Settings. London. Retrieved December 12, 2023, from www.odi.org/en/publications/exploring-the-conflict-blind-spots-in-climate-adaptationfinance/Daoudy M. (2020). The origins of the Syrian conflict: Climate change and human security. Cambridge University Press.de Châtel F. (2014). The role of drought and climate change in the Syrian uprising: Untangling the triggers of the revolution. Middle Eastern Studies, 50(4): 521–535.Few R., Ramírez V., Armijos M. T., Hernández L. A. Z., Marsh H. (2021). Moving with risk: Forced displacement and vulnerability to hazards in Colombia. World Development, 144, 105482.Fröhlich C. J. (2016). Climate migrants as protestors? Dispelling misconceptions about global environmental change in pre-revolutionary Syria. Contemporary Levant, 1(1), 38–50.Garrick D., Hall J. W. (2014). Water security and society: Risks, metrics, and pathways. Annual Review of Environment and Resources, 39(1), 611–639.Gbanie S. P., Griffin A. L., Thornton A. (2018). Impacts on the urban environment: Land cover change trajectories and landscape fragmentation in post-war Western Area, Sierra Leone. Remote Sensing, 10(1), 129.Gilmore E. A., Buhaug H. (2021). Climate mitigation policies and the potential pathways to conflict: Outlining a research agenda. Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews: Climate Change, 12(5), e722.Haasnoot M., Di Fant V., Kwakkel J., Lawrence J. (2024). Lessons from a decade of adaptive pathways studies for climate adaptation. Global Environmental Change, 88, 102907.International Crisis Group. (2025). Eight priorities for the African Union in 2025. Crisis Group Africa Briefing N°205. International Crisis Group.IPA (Innovations for Poverty Action). (2020). “Returning home? Conditions in Syria, not Lebanon, drive the return intentions of Syrian refugees.” Policy brief. https://www.poverty-action.org/publication/returning-home-conditions-syria-not-lebanon-drive-return-intentions-syrian-refugees.Lund Michael S. (1996)., “Early Warning and Preventive Diplomacy.” In Crocker CA, Hampson FO, Aall P (Eds.), Managing global chaos: sources of and responses to international conflict (pp. 379–402). U.S. Institute of Peace.Meijer K., Ahmad A. S. (2024). Unveiling challenges and gaps in climate finance in conflict areas. SIPRI.Ministry of Environment of Lebanon. (2014). Lebanon environmental assessment of the Syrian conflict and priority interventions. MOE/EU/UNDP Report, Beirut. https://goo.gl/5c9DQa.Sadoff C. W., Borgomeo E., De Waal D. (2017). Turbulent waters: Pursuing water security in fragile contexts. World Bank Publications.Swain A., Bruch C., Ide T., Lujala P., Matthew R., Weinthal E. (2023). Environment and security in the 21st century. Environment and Security, 1(1-2), 3–9.UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees). (2021). Mid-year trends. UNHCR.UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees). (2025). South Sudan. Global appeal 2025 situation overview. UNHCR.Von Uexkull N., Buhaug H. (2021). Security implications of climate change: A decade of scientific progress. Journal of Peace Research, 58(1), 3–17.WASH Cluster South Sudan (2021) WASH transition strategy for former POC/IDP sites in South Sudan. WASH cluster South Sudan, Juba.WASH Cluster South Sudan (2022) South Sudan WASH cluster strategy 2022–2023. WASH Cluster South Sudan, Juba.Weinthal E., Sowers J. (2020). The water-energy nexus in the Middle East: Infrastructure, development, and conflict. Wiley Interdisciplinary Reviews: Water, 7(4), e1437.World Bank (2017) Beyond scarcity: Water security in the Middle East and North Africa. World Bank.World Bank (2018) Lebanon—Municipal services emergency project. Implementation completion report. ICR4600. World Bank Publications.World Bank, ICRC (International Committee of the Red Cross) and UNICEF (United Nations Children’s Fund) (2021) Joining forces to combat protracted crises: humanitarian and development support for water and sanitation providers in the Middle East and North Africa. World Bank.

Defense & Security
Map depicts Western Africa, including countries like Nigeria, Ghana, and Senegal, with the Gulf of Guinea coastline.

Sahelian Instability Poses a Threat to West Africa

by Sergey Balmasov

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском The Spread of Instability from the Sahel Directly Threatens West African Countries, Especially the Gulf of Guinea States (Benin, Côte d’Ivoire, and Togo) — recently, there have been more attacks by jihadist fighters in these areas. If these attacks become more successful, it could seriously hurt the global economy, especially the economy of the European Union. Events in spring 2025 show that the jihadist movement is growing in this region, which causes big problems for safety and the economy.Gulf of Guinea Countries Under Attack by Jihadists Before, jihadists attacked only the northern parts of Benin, Côte d’Ivoire, and Togo — near the borders with Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger. But on April 24, 2025, they destroyed and captured an army vehicle in the center of Benin, far from the northern border. This showed they can now strike deep inside the country, not just near the border where most of the army is based. It seems this was done to force the army to move some soldiers away from the north, making it weaker there. This could mean that fighting is spreading into areas that used to be safe. A video of the attack was shared by a group linked to the Wagner Group that works in Africa. An even more worrying event happened on May 12. Jihadists attacked a gold mine in Mali, near the town of Narena on the border with Guinea. During the attack, they kidnapped Chinese workers. It’s important to note that the distance between this place and the attack in Benin is about 1,700 kilometers. This shows how far the violence is spreading across Africa. The situation is especially bad in Benin. Its army has been hit very hard in recent years. On April 17, 2025, jihadists destroyed two army posts in the north. The army said 54 soldiers were killed (the attackers said it was 70). Earlier, on January 8, 2025, radical Islamists killed 28 soldiers. In total, over 300 Beninese soldiers have been killed by jihadists between 2019 and 2025. The current year — 2025 — is already the worst so far, with 157 soldiers killed by May. A similar situation is happening in countries next to Benin. For example, in Togo, between 2022 and 2024, at least 37 soldiers and civilians were killed during major group attacks (with 29 of them in 2024 alone). Côte d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast) is also suffering from jihadist attacks. Back in 2016, at least 15 people were killed in one attack, including three elite special forces soldiers. Later, during a series of attacks by radical Islamists in 2021–2022, at least 15 more Ivorian soldiers were killed. And this does not include small attacks carried out by these groups. Reasons for Escalation West African countries became a new target for jihadist attacks for several reasons. Of course, the situation in neighboring Nigeria, where the jihadist group Boko Haram operates (recognized as terrorist and banned in Russia), plays a destabilizing role. Part of this group joined the Islamic State (also banned in Russia). Its appearance helped create instability in the southern Sahel, and a similar process happened in the north after Muammar Gaddafi was removed from power in Libya in 2011. Radical Islamists who took over big parts of Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger want to spread their control even more. These are jihadist “katibas” (Arabic for “unit”), acting under the name of JNIM (an Al-Qaeda branch in the Sahel, banned in Russia) and IS Sahel (Islamic State in the Sahel, banned in Russia). They want to build on their success in fighting French influence in Africa, get rid of it in other countries too — like Benin, Togo, and Côte d’Ivoire — and bring in Islamic rule and sharia law to new areas. This is their “mission,” as they see it. It seems that they will try to do this in the medium term. For now, their main goal appears to be bringing down the weak governments in Sahel countries. Even though the situation in Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger is still very bad, and the governments there mostly control only big cities, the jihadists have not yet succeeded in removing these military regimes. One of the reasons for this is the presence of Russian forces in the region, both state-run (“African Corps”) and semi-private (“Wagner Group”). Without removing these governments, it is too risky for jihadists to start big operations to take over other countries. But it is possible that, after facing Russian military experts — who have made the armies of Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger stronger — the jihadists are now trying to focus on West African countries where they are not yet present. It may also be that the goal of jihadist attacks in West Africa is to put pressure on their enemies in the Sahel from the northern areas of the coastal countries in the Gulf of Guinea. For example, by setting up in northern Benin, Côte d’Ivoire, and Togo, the jihadists can create safe zones for operations in southern Burkina Faso and Niger, and also threaten the capital of Niger, Niamey. They also place supply camps and families in local forests so that government forces in the Sahel don’t capture them. And finally, they use Gulf of Guinea countries as transit zones to get the things they need. For instance, they smuggle fuel from Nigeria for their vehicles — cars and motorbikes (their “mechanized cavalry”). They pay for this with illegally mined gold and livestock from the Sahel and West Africa. Ghana plays a special role in these operations. It is the only country in the Gulf of Guinea that borders the Sahel but has not yet experienced bloody jihadist attacks. Its geographic location is very important for the logistics of radical Islamists, and the local terrain helps their activities. For example, in northern Benin and Togo there are nature reserves and national parks stretching for hundreds of kilometers — W and Pendjari Parks in Benin, Comoe Park in Côte d’Ivoire, and the Oti-Keran Mandouri complex in Togo. These are rough, hard-to-reach areas with thick forests and poor road networks. Because of this it’s hard for the slow and heavy security forces of local governments to act in these places. But for small, lightly armed jihadist groups, it is much easier to move around and complete their missions. Security Forces Are Not Ready to Fight Jihadists Among the reasons why West African countries cannot succeed in the fight against radical Islamists is the "physical" weakness (as in the case of Togo and Benin) of their state security forces, and their general unpreparedness for conducting quick anti-guerrilla operations. For example, even after being enlarged due to the current crisis, their armies do not exceed 12,300 troops each, including naval forces (which have not really been involved in this fight). This is clearly not enough to effectively control their northern borders with Burkina Faso and Niger, which together stretch more than 700 km. The technical equipment of the armies of Benin and Togo is also poor because of a lack of transport, aircraft (especially drones), and modern gear in general (for example, some armored vehicles are still from the 1950s). The army of Côte d’Ivoire is much stronger. By the end of 2024, it had 22,000 soldiers, including the navy, and more than 5,000 irregular fighters. But even this is not enough to effectively guard its difficult border with Mali and Burkina Faso, which is 1,183 km long and has rough terrain. In such conditions, it is hard to expect a turning point in the fighting. Lack of Loyalty from the Local Population The establishment of jihadist control over the northern areas of Gulf of Guinea countries is also prevented by the low loyalty of the local population. Understanding that without at least some level of support (even if forced and limited) from locals, jihadists from the Sahel would not be able to act so effectively, the security forces of the region often carry out repressions against local people. This clearly does not increase their loyalty to the authorities and creates new problems for the future. These people can seriously harm the military, even if acting passively — for example, by helping jihadists as guides, scouts, or informants. This especially concerns the nomadic herders from the Fulani (or Fula) ethnic group, who are known to form the main part of jihadist groups in the Sahel countries. Many Fulani people also live in West and Central Africa. The high involvement of the Fulani and some other groups in jihadism often comes from their dissatisfaction with their situation. They often feel left out when it comes to getting resources, positions in government, and so on. When they express their dissatisfaction, it is often ignored at best, or met with repression at worst. The dissatisfaction of people in other West African countries with their own governments and the general situation comes from many factors. One of them is the strong and sometimes very fast population growth since the countries gained independence. At the same time, the amount of resources per person, like water and fertile land, has gone down. This has naturally led to more conflicts. Just like in the Sahel, conflicts over water and land between herders, farmers, hunters, and fishermen have gotten worse in West Africa. In the Gulf of Guinea countries, this happened at the same time as the government’s efforts to protect unique nature parks, which were declared reserves, but later became jihadist strongholds. As a result, farming and herding in these areas was greatly limited, and often completely banned, which hit the local economy hard. At the same time, people believe that the governments invested very little in the development of remote northern regions, especially in infrastructure. However, the presence of almost untouched parts of nature, far from cities, did lead to some tourism development (before the jihadists arrived). Because of this, some people who could not succeed as farmers or herders found jobs in tourism. The rebels used local dissatisfaction to their advantage. When they arrived, they removed the government bans on local economic activities (except cutting down the forests that hide their fighters), including hunting rare protected animals. Many local people saw this as a good thing. Prospects for the Fight Faced directly with the threat of Sahelization, the governments of the region are trying to urgently stabilize the situation. For example, the Beninese army (and other security forces) was increased by one and a half times — if at the beginning of the jihadist attacks it had 8,000 soldiers, now it has 12,300. The governments of the Gulf of Guinea countries also turned for help to their former security partners — France and the United States, who started sending modern weapons. But new weapons alone cannot change the situation — not even the use of drones, which are supposed to help better observe the terrain and find jihadist bases. The forests in the conflict zones are so thick that even modern UAVs sometimes cannot spot the enemy, even with poor camouflage. The authorities of Benin and Côte d’Ivoire have started developing border areas and creating jobs for young people, to make it harder for jihadists to recruit them. The Beninese government is also considering helping herders switch from a nomadic way of life to more efficient and less environmentally damaging farming. This idea might work in the long term, but it will need huge resources and could anger herders, who find it very hard to change their traditional lifestyle. Togo, which is poorer, cannot keep up with Benin and Côte d’Ivoire. Its government is mainly just running information campaigns and talking about the dangers of jihadism. So, the measures to stop jihadist expansion in these countries are not well coordinated. There is also a lack of cooperation in the fight itself. For example, Islamist radicals have escaped many times into neighboring Sahel countries, and this happened because there was no agreement that would let the security forces of one country pursue enemies into another. It is important to note that back in 2017, seeing the growing threat from jihadists, the Sahel and Gulf of Guinea countries signed the “Accra Initiative”, which became an anti-jihadist alliance. But soon after that, coups hit the region, removing pro-French governments in the Sahel countries, while in the coastal states of the Gulf of Guinea (except for Guinea itself), pro-Paris governments stayed in power. This damaged relations between the Sahel countries and the West African countries that remained loyal to France. Benin, Côte d’Ivoire, and Togo, still somewhat supported by France, joined the blockade of Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger, and even considered military intervention. The military governments of the Sahel, in turn, began to actively cooperate with Russia. Since then, there has been no coordination between the former allies in the fight against jihadism. And until this conflict is resolved, it is hard to expect any effective cross-border fight against jihadists. Therefore, even in the short term, the situation in the region will likely get worse — because the Sahel’s population keeps growing rapidly, and as they move south into West African countries, competition for limited resources will keep increasing. How the Escalating Struggle Shapes the Global Landscape and Russia’s RoleDespite the destabilizing effect of “Sahelization” and the spread of jihadism into the coastal countries of the Gulf of Guinea, there are some opportunities for Russia. For example, it is possible that the people of West African countries, just like those in the Sahel, will lose trust in France — especially if Paris fails to stop the jihadist advance. As a result, we cannot rule out the possibility of anti-French coups in Gulf of Guinea countries. Russia could use this to further weaken the West, and France in particular, during the ongoing conflict in Ukraine. Other countries will also try to fill the growing political vacuum in the region. The United States is already doing this, by giving military and technical help to these countries and clearly trying to push out French influence. In the worst-case scenario (if the governments of the coastal West African countries collapse), jihadists could reach the major shipping routes of the Gulf of Guinea. Since important global trade routes pass through this area, this would be a direct threat to international trade, especially for the European Union. However, for now, this seems possible only if the entire state system built in Africa after the end of colonial rule completely falls apart. A much more serious danger may come from jihadists reaching the border with Guinea, or pushing further south into coastal West African countries. In the first case, the threat affects the world economy, because Guinea supplies 20% of the world’s bauxite — the raw material used to make aluminum. Guinea also has rich deposits of iron ore and other minerals. It's important to note that not only the West, but also China depends on these supplies. Russian companies also work in Guinea. That’s why many outside powers (like the USA, Turkey, UAE, Qatar, and others) may be tempted to use Sahel rebel groups to try to change who controls the market in Guinea. Many people in Guinea are unhappy with how the wealth is shared, and most of the population lives below the poverty line. A large part of the population (about one-third of the 14 million people) are again the Fulani, the same active group that often forms the base of rebel movements. Some of them might join the fighters if there is an invasion of Guinea from Mali. As for the attempt to move jihadist activity into central Benin, this is very bad news for the European Union, which hopes to get cheap pipeline gas if the planned “Atlantic” gas pipeline from Nigeria to Morocco is built. So, if jihadists become more active in coastal Gulf countries, it could scare away investors from this expensive project. At the same time, Russia might use the situation to its own advantage.

Defense & Security
Old Tank standing in the Tigray area in the North part of Ethiopia

The prospects for another war in Tigray

by Worku Aberra

Another war appears imminent in Tigray; this time the conflict threatens to engulf the region. Eritrea appears ready to join the fighting . Despite the heavy toll of the 2020–2022 war, both the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and the Ethiopian government have resumed belligerent rhetoric. If fighting resumes, the underlying causes are the TPLF’s pursuit of secession, Abiy Ahmed’s authoritarian rule, and his territorial ambitions. The TPLF has pursued independence since its formation in 1975  by advocating the right to self-determination; it has promoted a narrative rooted in historical exceptionalism and the right to self-determination. That vision matured into a program of statehood during the years the TPLF controlled the Ethiopian government. Between 1991 and 2018, it used state power to lay the political, economic, and military groundwork for secession. Ethnic federalism, introduced under the rhetoric of self-rule, eroded national cohesion. A constitutional clause granted regional states the right to secede unilaterally. Ethiopian nationalism was deliberately undermined; ethnic nationalism was systematically promoted. Ethnic regions were later militarized through the creation of special forces that operated beyond constitutional limits, ostensibly for regional security. Tigray assembled the most powerful of these units—well-armed, well-trained, and well-structured, designed as a paramilitary force prepared to enforce constitutional claims to territory ). These units appear intended to serve as the armies of the independent states they envisioned. In parallel to this build-up, heavy military equipment vital to national defense was transferred to Tigray under the pretext of countering threats from Eritrea. The TPLF later used its special forces and this hardware to wage war against the Ethiopian state. Unrestrained by legal, political, or institutional checks, the TPLF exercised full control over the Ethiopian state. It used that power to extract the country’s natural resources, seize physical assets, and divert financial capital. Under the guise of implementing market reforms recommended by the IMF and World Bank, it transferred state-owned enterprises to firms under its command. The TPLF used the state’s economic apparatus and its control over the private sector to advance its long-term goal of Tigrayan independence. As the TPLF moved toward secession, Ethiopia stood primed for fragmentation, by its constitution, by its leaders, and by its institutions. When a popular revolt removed the TPLF-led government in 2018, the leadership retreated to Mekelle and intensified its campaign for independence. The TPLF escalated its confrontation with the federal government through a series of provocative actions: holding regional elections in September 2020 in defiance of federal authority, expelling federal military officers from Tigray, obstructing troop movements and logistics, and organizing large-scale military parades to project force. Each move appears calculated to provoke a military confrontation with the central government. Convinced that the moment had arrived, the TPLF launched a coordinated assault on the Northern Command on November 4, 2020, as a decisive step toward secession. After two years of devastating war, it failed to achieve its long-term objective. On November 2, 2022, it accepted a cessation of hostilities under the terms of the Pretoria Agreement. Support for secession has increased, fueled by the federal government’s conduct during the war, particularly its decision to invite the Eritrean army into Tigray (Reuters). The Ethiopian Orthodox Church, once a bastion of unity, has splintered. Tigrayan clergy formed a separate synod and severed all ties with the central hierarchy. In the diaspora, former advocates of unity champion independence. Among educated Tigrayans, disillusionment runs deep. Many interpreted the nationwide support for the federal war effort, mostly due to the TPLF’s authoritarianism, as a broader denunciation of Tigrayan identity. For this group, the war was not a political confrontation, but a genocidal campaign. That belief has hardened into a dominant narrative: that civilian deaths were not accidental byproducts of conflict, but deliberate acts of extermination. A rival project of state-building has emerged at the federal level, based on irredentism rather than ethnic autonomy. Abiy Ahmed, an authoritarian ruler backed by a narrow Oromo elite, has declared his intention to govern a unitary state stretching from the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean. He has repeatedly insisted that Ethiopia must secure a seaport, peacefully or by military force. Despite having no coastline, his government established a navy with France’s assistance; he signed a memorandum of understanding with Somaliland to build a naval base—later cancelled—and has advanced a plan for an economic union encompassing Eritrea, Djibouti, and Somalia.Federal authorities have also provided weapons to factional leaders in Puntland and Jubaland to undermine the Somali government). While economic integration offers benefits, Abiy’s strategy to annex or dominate neighbouring states risks regional instability, diplomatic estrangement, and military confrontation. A government committed to external expansion is unlikely to tolerate internal disintegration. Tigrayan secessionism and Abiy’s expansionism stand as twin causes of the impending war. The immediate triggers of renewed war have already surfaced. Abiy Ahmed can invoke a legal casus belli against Eritrea, which continues to occupy Ethiopian territory despite repeated demands from Western governments and multilateral organizations). Eritrea, in turn, could claim self-defence. The TPLF could justify a war by claiming that the federal government has failed to fully implement the Pretoria Agreement. Both sides blame each other for the collapse of the agreement and have resumed hostile rhetoric and provocative actions. The TPLF, ignoring the Pretoria Agreement, has declared that it does not require federal permission to engage with Eritrea). Its leaders have publicly affirmed sovereignty, consistent with the constitutional framework. An Eritrean official has offered explicit support for Tigrayan independence; this has introduced an unpredictable external variable into an already volatile situation). On the federal side, the government has revoked the TPLF’s legal status as a political party, eliminating what remained of the formal political channel). At the same time, Abiy launched a European tour on May 22, likely to secure diplomatic backing for a new campaign). The symmetry with the prelude to the first war is striking: escalating rhetoric, foreign lobbying, and mutual delegitimization. What unfolds is not a fresh crisis but the second act of a war poorly resolved. The TPLF has fractured under the weight of the war it helped to unleash. An internal power struggle—driven by disputes over military conduct, political legitimacy, and personal ambition—split the organization in August 2024 into two factions: one led by Debretsion Gebremichael, the chair; the other by Getachew Reda, the vice chair. Each accuses the other of betraying the people of Tigray). The TPLF fighters are also divided. A large faction supports the Debretsion group, while Getachew’s faction has secured the backing of armed groups in southern Tigray, reportedly trained by the Ethiopian government in the Afar region). These forces have pledged to defend the administrative structure he established. The likelihood of intra-Tigrayan armed conflict is high. Tensions have escalated further as Getachew has leveled serious criminal accusations against the TPLF’s military command. In interviews aired on government television on May 13 and 14, he alleged that senior generals committed war crimes, operated illegal gold mines, embezzled state funds, trafficked humans, smuggled arms, and stripped steel from public infrastructure for sale—even as the war was taking place ). The accused commanders have denied all charges and denounced him as a traitor aligned with the federal government. He further reported that the number of registered TPLF fighters DDR had been inflated and that commanders had embezzled funds intended for their salaries. He accused the same officers of plotting to assassinate him. These are not casual allegations—they come from a man who served as deputy chair of the party, member of the executive, member of its wartime command, spokesperson during the conflict, head of the Pretoria delegation, and former regional president. According to Getachew, the TPLF’s military leadership has a vested interest in restarting the war to avoid accountability. He argues that peace would expose their crimes, while renewed conflict offers protection. As evidence, he cites the leak of secret peace talks in Djibouti between the TPLF and the federal government by one of the implicated generals. The federal government, upon learning of the leak, ended the negotiations. In another case, he claims that when the federal government attempted resettlement of Tigrayans in contested areas, the TPLF commanders demanded that fighters accompany the returnees; the government refused. Getachew alleges the generals are using displaced civilians as “hostages” to obstruct reconciliation. He claims to hold documentary evidence supporting these accusations. While he describes the TPLF as a “criminal enterprise,” he occasionally softens the charge, placing blame on a few bad actors. This contradiction raises a crucial question: if an organization protects offenders and functions as a criminal network, can it still claim political legitimacy? The conflict between the TPLF and the federal government has persisted, but alliances have shifted dramatically. During the first Tigray war, a coalition of federal troops, Eritrean forces, Amhara special forces, and the Fano militia fought the TPLF. That coalition has disintegrated. In April 2023, the federal government disbanded the Amhara special forces while retaining similar units in other regions). It then launched a military campaign to disarm the Fano, provoking armed resistance across the Amhara region. The government has struggled to suppress the rebellion and has lost control of large areas. It accuses the TPLF of aiding the Fano. At the same time, relations between Ethiopia and Eritrea have unraveled. Abiy Ahmed’s declaration that Ethiopia would obtain a seaport—by negotiation or by force—has pushed the two states into hostility). In a startling reversal, the TPLF has begun to align with Eritrea, its former enemy. Reports suggest the Debretsion faction has initiated cooperation with Eritrean officials, despite Eritrea’s continued occupation of territories claimed by Tigray). Getachew alleges that senior TPLF commanders have coordinated military planning with Eritrean authorities. Gebru Asrat, the former Tigray regional president, has made similar claims). Eritrea appears prepared to re-enter the war, this time as a TPLF ally. One Eritrean official has gone further and has expressed support for Tigrayan independence, as stated earlier. But given their history of mutual hostility, unresolved border disputes, and clashing ambitions, the alliance remains fragile. It may serve tactical needs, but it is unlikely to survive strategic realities. Strategic miscalculation is a crucial risk in this war, as it was in the previous one. During the first Tigray war, both the federal government and the TPLF overestimated their military capacity and underestimated their opponent’s. The war yielded no victory. Instead, both sides accepted a cessation of hostilities after enduring political crisis, economic hardship, and human catastrophe. The result crippled both actors. Despite renewed threats, confrontational posturing, and aggressive rhetoric, neither side appears ready for war. In Tigray, the public is exhausted. People demand peace, basic services, the return of the displaced, and the restoration of infrastructure. The struggle for basic needs outweighs the desire to engage in another war. While support for independence remains high, many Tigrayans question whether the embattled TPLF can govern a region, let alone a future state. Among Tigrayans, the yearning for peace far exceeds the willingness to fight another war. The Eritrean government, although it commands a disciplined army, lacks the diplomatic support and military capabilities to confront a stronger adversary. Its economic base is fragile; its population is small, overburdened by years of forced conscription, and exhausted by endless mobilization. Eritrea’s international isolation—worsened by sanctions, strained relations with neighbors, and a dismal human rights record—undermines its capacity to secure foreign military or financial assistance. These constraints—weak economy, fragile population base, diplomatic isolation, and limited military resources—reduce Eritrea’s capacity to sustain a protracted war The Ethiopian state faces even greater problems. Armed insurgencies continue in Amhara and Oromia, the country’s two most populous regions. Federal forces have failed to suppress either movement and have lost control over extensive territory. Across the country, support for the government has collapsed. A nationwide strike by healthcare workers—triggered by surging inflation—signals broader unrest). Legitimacy has eroded; institutions have decayed; crises have multiplied. The military—commanded by officers appointed for ethnic loyalty rather than professional competence, crippled by systemic corruption, and plagued by operational incapacity—is unfit for war. These deficiencies became evident when the army suffered a series of humiliating defeats in the last war against the TPLF. External actors can influence both the likelihood and the outcome of a renewed conflict. In the previous war, the United States played a moderating role, driven by its own strategic interests in Ethiopia, the Horn, and the Red Sea. The Biden administration helped contain escalation by the Ethiopian government and dissuaded the TPLF from pursuing independence. It appointed Special Envoy Mike Hammer, whose diplomacy helped secure the Pretoria Agreement). Under President Trump, U.S. policy shifted toward disengagement. That shift may have persuaded the Ethiopian government that war carries no consequences and emboldened the TPLF to pursue secession. Regional powers also have the capacity to influence whether the war erupts and how it unfolds. Egypt, a traditional adversary of Ethiopia and locked in dispute over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, has aligned with Eritrea and had supported the TPLF in the past. Saudi Arabia continues to back the Eritrean regime). The United Arab Emirates has supplied Ethiopia with drones and weapons). Turkey has armed Ethiopia with drones as well, but backs Somalia over Abiy’s memorandum of understanding with Somaliland, the breakaway state of Somalia, later cancelled ). Whether another war erupts will depend in part on how these regional powers calculate their interests and the extent to which they are willing to intervene to secure them. Under present conditions, neither side appears capable of waging war. The TPLF—isolated abroad, fractured within, stripped of territory, crippled by corruption, and bereft of popular support—lacks the means to mount a new campaign. The federal government, weakened by internal fragmentation, collapsing legitimacy, and mounting public dissent, cannot sustain another conflict. Rhetoric has escalated, but capacity has not. The Eritrean government commands a well-trained army but lacks the diplomatic support, economic strength, and military capacity to fight a stronger adversary. Its international isolation, small population, and limited resources leave it vulnerable. Eritreans may defend sovereignty but show little enthusiasm for another costly war. Eritrea’s shifting loyalties, Abiy Ahmed’s expansionist ambitions, the Tigrayan elite’s secessionist agenda, the TPLF’s record of miscalculation, and foreign interference have created a volatile situation. Any of these variables could reignite the conflict, dismantle either state, and destabilize the entire region. Even in the absence of strategic advantage, wars can erupt because of misjudgments, personal ambition, or elite rivalries. Peace in the Horn is no local concern; it is a global imperative essential to regional order, international security, and the prevention of another humanitarian catastrophe.

Energy & Economics
Comparison of Drought and flood metaphor for climate change and extreme weather.

Global Climate Agreements: Successes and Failures

by Clara Fong , Lindsay Maizland

International efforts, such as the Paris Agreement, aim to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. But experts say countries aren’t doing enough to limit dangerous global warming. Summary Countries have debated how to combat climate change since the early 1990s. These negotiations have produced several important accords, including the Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement. Governments generally agree on the science behind climate change but have diverged on who is most responsible, how to track emissions-reduction goals, and whether to compensate harder-hit countries. The findings of the first global stocktake, discussed at the 2023 UN Climate Summit in Dubai, United Arab Emirates (UAE), concluded that governments need to do more to prevent the global average temperature from rising by 1.5°C. Introduction Over the last several decades, governments have collectively pledged to slow global warming. But despite intensified diplomacy, the world is already facing the consequences of climate change, and they are expected to get worse. Through the Kyoto Protocol and Paris Agreement, countries agreed to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, but the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere keeps rising, heating the Earth at an alarming rate. Scientists warn that if this warming continues unabated, it could bring environmental catastrophe to much of the world, including staggering sea-level rise, devastating wildfires, record-breaking droughts and floods, and widespread species loss. Since negotiating the Paris accord in 2015, many of the 195 countries that are party to the agreement have strengthened their climate commitments—to include pledges on curbing emissions and supporting countries in adapting to the effects of extreme weather—during the annual UN climate conferences known as the Conference of the Parties (COP). While experts note that clear progress has been made towards the clean energy transition, cutting current emissions has proven challenging for the world’s top emitters. The United States, for instance, could be poised to ramp up fossil fuel production linked to global warming under the Donald Trump administration, which has previously minimized the effects of climate change and has withdrawn twice from the Paris Agreement. What are the most important international agreements on climate change? Montreal Protocol, 1987. Though not intended to tackle climate change, the Montreal Protocol [PDF] was a historic environmental accord that became a model for future diplomacy on the issue. Every country in the world eventually ratified the treaty, which required them to stop producing substances that damage the ozone layer, such as chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs). The protocol has succeeded in eliminating nearly 99 percent of these ozone-depleting substances. In 2016, parties agreed via the Kigali Amendment to also reduce their production of hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), powerful greenhouse gases that contribute to climate change. UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), 1992. Ratified by 197 countries, including the United States, the landmark accord [PDF] was the first global treaty to explicitly address climate change. It established an annual forum, known as the Conference of the Parties, or COP, for international discussions aimed at stabilizing the concentration of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere. These meetings produced the Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement. Kyoto Protocol, 2005. The Kyoto Protocol [PDF], adopted in 1997 and entered into force in 2005, was the first legally binding climate treaty. It required developed countries to reduce emissions by an average of 5 percent below 1990 levels, and established a system to monitor countries’ progress. But the treaty did not compel developing countries, including major carbon emitters China and India, to take action. The United States signed the agreement in 1998 but never ratified it and later withdrew its signature.  Paris Agreement, 2015. The most significant global climate agreement to date, the Paris Agreement requires all countries to set emissions-reduction pledges. Governments set targets, known as nationally determined contributions (NDCs), with the goals of preventing the global average temperature from rising 2°C (3.6°F) above preindustrial levels and pursuing efforts to keep it below 1.5°C (2.7°F). It also aims to reach global net-zero emissions, where the amount of greenhouse gases emitted equals the amount removed from the atmosphere, in the second half of the century. (This is also known as being climate neutral or carbon neutral.) The United States, the world’s second-largest emitter, is the only country to withdraw from the agreement, a move President Donald Trump made during his first administration in 2017. While former President Joe Biden reentered the agreement during his first day in office, Trump again withdrew the United States on the first day of his second administration in 2025. Three other countries have not formally approved the agreement: Iran, Libya, and Yemen. Is there a consensus on the science of climate change? Yes, there is a broad consensus among the scientific community, though some deny that climate change is a problem, including politicians in the United States. When negotiating teams meet for international climate talks, there is “less skepticism about the science and more disagreement about how to set priorities,” says David Victor, an international relations professor at the University of California, San Diego. The basic science is that:• the Earth’s average temperature is rising at an unprecedented rate; • human activities, namely the use of fossil fuels—coal, oil, and natural gas—are the primary drivers of this rapid warming and climate change; and,• continued warming is expected to have harmful effects worldwide. Data taken from ice cores shows that the Earth’s average temperature is rising more now than it has in eight hundred thousand years. Scientists say this is largely a result of human activities over the last 150 years, such as burning fossil fuels and deforestation. These activities have dramatically increased the amount of heat-trapping greenhouse gases, primarily carbon dioxide, in the atmosphere, causing the planet to warm. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), a UN body established in 1988, regularly assesses the latest climate science and produces consensus-based reports for countries. Why are countries aiming to keep global temperature rise below 1.5°C? Scientists have warned for years of catastrophic environmental consequences if global temperature continues to rise at the current pace. The Earth’s average temperature has already increased approximately 1.1°C above preindustrial levels, according to a 2023 assessment by the IPCC. The report, drafted by more than two hundred scientists from over sixty countries, predicts that the world will reach or exceed 1.5°C of warming within the next two decades even if nations drastically cut emissions immediately. (Several estimates report that global warming already surpassed that threshold in 2024.) An earlier, more comprehensive IPCC report summarized the severe effects expected to occur when the global temperature warms by 1.5°C: Heat waves. Many regions will suffer more hot days, with about 14 percent of people worldwide being exposed to periods of severe heat at least once every five years. Droughts and floods. Regions will be more susceptible to droughts and floods, making farming more difficult, lowering crop yields, and causing food shortages.  Rising seas. Tens of millions of people live in coastal regions that will be submerged in the coming decades. Small island nations are particularly vulnerable. Ocean changes. Up to 90 percent of coral reefs will be wiped out, and oceans will become more acidic. The world’s fisheries will become far less productive. Arctic ice thaws. At least once a century, the Arctic will experience a summer with no sea ice, which has not happened in at least two thousand years. Forty percent of the Arctic’s permafrost will thaw by the end of the century.  Species loss. More insects, plants, and vertebrates will be at risk of extinction.  The consequences will be far worse if the 2°C threshold is reached, scientists say. “We’re headed toward disaster if we can’t get our warming in check and we need to do this very quickly,” says Alice C. Hill, CFR senior fellow for energy and the environment. Which countries are responsible for climate change? The answer depends on who you ask and how you measure emissions. Ever since the first climate talks in the 1990s, officials have debated which countries—developed or developing—are more to blame for climate change and should therefore curb their emissions. Developing countries argue that developed countries have emitted more greenhouse gases over time. They say these developed countries should now carry more of the burden because they were able to grow their economies without restraint. Indeed, the United States has emitted the most of all time, followed by the European Union (EU).   However, China and India are now among the world’s top annual emitters, along with the United States. Developed countries have argued that those countries must do more now to address climate change.   In the context of this debate, major climate agreements have evolved in how they pursue emissions reductions. The Kyoto Protocol required only developed countries to reduce emissions, while the Paris Agreement recognized that climate change is a shared problem and called on all countries to set emissions targets. What progress have countries made since the Paris Agreement? Every five years, countries are supposed to assess their progress toward implementing the agreement through a process known as the global stocktake. The first of these reports, released in September 2023, warned governments that “the world is not on track to meet the long-term goals of the Paris Agreement.” That said, countries have made some breakthroughs during the annual UN climate summits, such as the landmark commitment to establish the Loss and Damage Fund at COP27 in Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt. The fund aims to address the inequality of climate change by providing financial assistance to poorer countries, which are often least responsible for global emissions yet most vulnerable to climate disasters. At COP28, countries decided that the fund will be initially housed at the World Bank, with several wealthy countries, such as the United States, Japan, the United Kingdom, and EU members, initially pledging around $430 million combined. At COP29, developed countries committed to triple their finance commitments to developing countries, totalling $300 billion annually by 2035. Recently, there have been global efforts to cut methane emissions, which account for more than half of human-made warming today because of their higher potency and heat trapping ability within the first few decades of release. The United States and EU introduced a Global Methane Pledge at COP26, which aims to slash 30 percent of methane emissions levels between 2020 and 2030. At COP28, oil companies announced they would cut their methane emissions from wells and drilling by more than 80 percent by the end of the decade. However, pledges to phase out fossil fuels were not renewed the following year at COP29. Are the commitments made under the Paris Agreement enough? Most experts say that countries’ pledges are not ambitious enough and will not be enacted quickly enough to limit global temperature rise to 1.5°C. The policies of Paris signatories as of late 2022 could result in a 2.7°C (4.9°F) rise by 2100, according to the Climate Action Tracker compiled by Germany-based nonprofits Climate Analytics and the NewClimate Institute. “The Paris Agreement is not enough. Even at the time of negotiation, it was recognized as not being enough,” says CFR’s Hill. “It was only a first step, and the expectation was that as time went on, countries would return with greater ambition to cut their emissions.” Since 2015, dozens of countries—including the top emitters—have submitted stronger pledges. For example, President Biden announced in 2021 that the United States will aim to cut emissions by 50 to 52 percent compared to 2005 levels by 2030, doubling former President Barack Obama’s commitment. The following year, the U.S. Congress approved legislation that could get the country close to reaching that goal. Meanwhile, the EU pledged to reduce emissions by at least 55 percent compared to 1990 levels by 2030, and China said it aims to reach peak emissions before 2030. But the world’s average temperature will still rise more than 2°C (3.6°F) by 2100 even if countries fully implement their pledges for 2030 and beyond. If the more than one hundred countries that have set or are considering net-zero targets follow through, warming could be limited to 1.8˚C (3.2°F), according to the Climate Action Tracker.   What are the alternatives to the Paris Agreement? Some experts foresee the most meaningful climate action happening in other forums. Yale University economist William Nordhaus says that purely voluntary international accords like the Paris Agreement promote free-riding and are destined to fail. The best way to cut global emissions, he says, would be to have governments negotiate a universal carbon price rather than focus on country emissions limits. Others propose new agreements [PDF] that apply to specific emissions or sectors to complement the Paris Agreement.  In recent years, climate diplomacy has occurred increasingly through minilateral groupings. The Group of Twenty (G20), representing countries that are responsible for 80 percent of the world’s greenhouse gas pollution, has pledged to stop financing new coal-fired power plants abroad and agreed to triple renewable energy capacity by the end of this decade. However, G20 governments have thus far failed to set a deadline to phase out fossil fuels. In 2022, countries in the International Civil Aviation Organization set a goal of achieving net-zero emissions for commercial aviation by 2050. Meanwhile, cities around the world have made their own pledges. In the United States, more than six hundred local governments [PDF] have detailed climate action plans that include emissions-reduction targets. Industry is also a large source of carbon pollution, and many firms have said they will try to reduce their emissions or become carbon neutral or carbon negative, meaning they would remove more carbon from the atmosphere than they release. The Science Based Targets initiative, a UK-based company considered the “gold standard” in validating corporate net-zero plans, says it has certified the plans of  over three thousand firms, and aims to more than triple this total by 2025. Still, analysts say that many challenges remain, including questions over the accounting methods and a lack of transparency in supply chains. Recommended Resources This timeline tracks UN climate talks since 1992. CFR Education’s latest resources explain everything to know about climate change.  The Climate Action Tracker assesses countries’ updated NDCs under the Paris Agreement. CFR Senior Fellow Varun Sivaram discusses how the 2025 U.S. wildfires demonstrate the need to rethink climate diplomacy and adopt a pragmatic response to falling short of global climate goals. In this series on climate change and instability by the Center for Preventive Action, CFR Senior Fellow Michelle Gavin looks at the consequences for the Horn of Africa and the National Defense University’s Paul J. Angelo for Central America. This backgrounder by Clara Fong unpacks the global push for climate financing.

Defense & Security
Officers of the Lagos State Police Command on guard as during a protest in Lagos on Tuesday, October 1, 2024.  Nigerians are out on Independence day to protest bad governance and high cost of living

A Political Breakthrough?

by Ebenezer Obadare

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Is the nascent consensus on state police in Nigeria a political ruse or a giant step towards true federalism in the country? No matter what happens next, last week’s statement by the Northern States Governors’ Forum expressing “support for the creation of State Police” and calling on “the National Assembly to expedite action on the enactment of the legal framework for its takeoff” will go down as a pivotal moment in the often-contentious debate over genuine federalism and political decentralization in Nigeria. Although it is not the first time that the Forum, the umbrella body of the chief executives of the nineteen northern states, will be expressing unanimous support for the idea (they also did back in September 2022 as the region buckled under the weight of relentless attacks by Boko Haram terrorists), the demand for expeditious action by a group of actors long seen as the epitome of northern resistance to the idea of state police is nothing short of remarkable. While it lasted, that opposition, or, to put it positively, an insistence on keeping policing on the Exclusive Legislative List per Section 214 (1) of the 1999 Nigerian Constitution, essentially preserving federal control over police affairs, was an article of faith among northern political actors, who, when they were not fearful about the potential for its abuse by individual state governors, worried that they may not have the resources to maintain it. In any event, they (i.e., the northern governors) were sure, as they insisted after reneging on an agreement reached at a meeting of the governors of the thirty-six states of the Nigerian federation in August 2012, that “the best way to ensure adequate security in all the states [was] for the federal government to allow commissioners of police to be controlled by the respective governors so that they can take orders from the state executives.” What explains the ostensible volte-face? One possible explanation is the worsening security situation in the northern region and the sense of desperation it has engendered among northern governors, traditional rulers, and other notables. Since the turn of the year, Boko Haram; Lakurawa, a jihadist group believed to be an affiliate of the Islamic State Sahel Province (ISSP); and lesser-known groups like Mahmuda, a Boko Haram splinter group, have embarked on a murderous spree in the northeastern, northwestern, and north-central parts of the country respectively, killing an untold number of people and laying waste to military bases, religious houses, and other public and private property. Since the outbreak of the Boko Haram insurgency in 2009, the group has been directly responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands and the displacement of millions. Given this situation, and considering the helplessness of the Nigerian armed forces, a certain desperation on the part of the governors may be understandable. Yet, it hardly explains how the idea of states administering and controlling their own police (a sound idea on its own merit) is suddenly embraced as the solution to a protracted insurgency that has so far defeated everything thrown at it. This puzzle has opened the door to a less charitable interpretation of the northern governors’ move, as follows: that far from being committed to state police as a matter of principle, the governors only see it as a way to kill two political birds with one stone—sign up for an idea which has become inexorable more or less, but at the same time use a newly-earned control over policing to tighten political control ahead of the next presidential election in March 2027, one that, at the moment (things could change very easily), is shaping up as a north-versus-south confrontation. In other words, assume control of police affairs as a way to defend “northern interest” when the push of electoral politics comes to shove. Whether or not the northern governors indeed have this shared understanding, the hypothesis—for it is nothing more than that at this point—is a reminder of the many reasons why the idea of state police in Nigeria has always been politically charged, and why a consensus on something as apparently straightforward as having individual state governments fund and maintain their own police—the very epitome of federalism, as its advocates see it—has been elusive. The anxiety of opponents of the state police as to its likely abuse, including mobilization against political opponents, is not unfounded. Nor will anyone who has listened to a former state governor proudly recount how he used his commissioner of police to manipulate elections and subvert the democratic process (unwittingly validating another former governor’s point [PDF] about the Nigeria Police Force being one of the five “mini-gods” that anyone trying to understand “the nature of electoral politics in Nigeria…must pay significant attention to”) dispute the contention of critics that the system is “not mature enough.” Mature or not, there is no doubting that the country, and President Tinubu in particular, is at a critical juncture. For a country wracked by violence of various stripes, and one where vigilante groups of various degrees of legality have continued to mushroom, it would seem irresponsible not to seize an opportunity that, on the whole, should increase security while strengthening local accountability. President Tinubu, too, has a decision to make. For a man who fancies himself a federalist and raised on a diet of Awolowo-Yoruba progressivism, he would be hard pressed to explain to himself, never mind his allies in the Yoruba political heartland, how he failed to capitalize on a political moment arguably unprecedented in the country’s checkered history. From this perspective, he has no choice but to sign the “Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria (Alteration) Bill, 2023 (Establishment of State Police)" [PDF] as soon as it lands on his desk. Were he, contrariwise, to stall, it would be an indication that he perceives the northern governors’ sudden about face as the first move in a political plot calculated to upstage him as president come 2027.  Should that happen, and should the idea of state police continue to languish in legislative limbo, it would not be the first time in Nigeria that politics has waylaid history. Or is it the other way around?

Energy & Economics
United Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Yemen and Oman. GCC Gulf Country Middle East Flag 3D Icons. 3D illustration of GCC Country Flags arranged in around the GCC Logo

Diversification nations: The Gulf way to engage with Africa

by Corrado Čok , Maddalena Procopio

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Summary -The UAE, Saudi Arabia and Qatar have longstanding political and security interests in north and east Africa.- But the late 2010s saw a “geoeconomic turn” in their foreign policy. This has led the three Gulf states to make inroads into sub-Saharan Africa.- Energy and infrastructure are at the heart of this new economic involvement. These sectors serve Gulf interests, but they are also where Africa’s needs are greatest.- This is improving the image of Gulf states in Africa. This ties in with a trend among African governments to diversify their own international partners and foster competition among them.- The EU and its member states remain influential in Africa, but their involvement is declining. The Gulf expansion in Africa could exacerbate this—unless Europeans find a way to respond. The geoeconomic turn Africa is big business in today’s geopolitics and geoeconomics. “Great powers” have returned to compete on the continent, with rising powers like Turkey and Gulf monarchies snapping at their heels. African leaders, meanwhile, are capitalising on the fragmentation of the global order to foster competition among all these powers. In this evolving landscape, the United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia and to a lesser extent Qatar are looking beyond their traditional African interests. The three Gulf states have long extended their reach into east and north Africa. There, they have worked to secure land and trading routes, extract resources and project influence over their preferred versions of Islam. In so doing they have tried (and spent big) to empower friendly governments and political actors through a combination of diplomatic, economic and security-related assistance. This political-military posturing has often drawn them into competition with one another—for instance through their involvement in the conflicts in Yemen and Libya. The UAE has been by far the most assertive of the three states in this regard, with recent Emirati involvement in Sudan’s civil war prompting regional and international condemnation. Despite these political interests, the late 2010s saw a “geoeconomic turn” in the foreign policy of the Gulf powers. This has led them to make inroads deeper into Africa. The covid-19 pandemic and falling oil prices hit sectors crucial to these states economies: aviation, for instance, as well as tourism and logistics. These oil and gas producers also know that fossil fuels will be out of the picture at some point in the future, thanks to the global energy transition. With its booming markets and rich natural resources, sub-Saharan Africa brings opportunities for Gulf states to diversify their economies. Moreover, African governments offer them backing to pursue a dual approach to the energy transition: no pressure to lose the oil and gas right now (and Africa offers plenty of prospects in that regard) but opportunities also position themselves as leaders in sectors vital to future economies—from renewables to minerals. Such pragmatic engagement should guarantee Gulf states greater returns than costly security politics in their “near abroad”. This could all affect European interests in Africa, not least because the continent is also becoming a crucial partner for Europeans to sustain and diversify their own energy supplies. In our 2024 paper “Beyond competition” we examined the UAE’s involvement in African energy sectors, setting out how Europeans might mitigate the risks that poses and grasp the opportunities. This policy brief expands on that research. First, it breaks down the UAE’s, Saudi Arabia’s and Qatar’s geoeconomic activities in sub-Saharan Africa, zooming in on energy as a central focus of their strategy. Next, it analyses the divergences in the Gulf states’ economic expansion, and how these interact with their traditional African interests. Finally, it explains how Europeans should grapple with this emerging phenomenon. Africa and a fragmenting global order Over the past five years, economic and geopolitical turmoil has changed how big and rising powers compete in Africa—and how African countries relate to the rest of the world. This is the case for both political and economic engagement. Africa The African embrace of diversification reflects a broader movement within the global south that advocates a reimagined global order. Within this, a key demand is for equity, inclusivity and agency in global governance structures—indicating a deliberate pivot away from historical dependencies on Western-led models. This includes traditional frameworks of aid and development. This multipolar moment gained momentum as the tumult of the post-covid years and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine intensified. As Western states focused on economic and geopolitical upheavals closer to home, many African leaders saw neglect and self-centredness. This was exemplified in African criticism of Western vaccine hoarding, and then of the redirection of aid to Ukraine at the expense of African crises. So African leaders have increasingly sought out alternative partners.   But these developments only exacerbated a more longstanding trend. From the early 2000s onwards, Western engagement with Africa has steadily declined. Other powers—such as China, Turkey and Russia—have expanded their influence. Indeed, Russia and China in particular have leveraged African aspirations and grievances against Western-led frameworks. This has helped them legitimise their political, economic and military projection in Africa. It could also open up space for stronger West-free alliances, such as through the BRICS+ grouping (which the UAE joined and to which Saudi Arabia was invited in 2024). Gulf The African embrace of multipolarity resonates with Gulf powers, which underpin their own foreign policy with an aim to cultivate partnerships across the east-west and north-south spectrum. Gulf states do not explicitly adopt anti-Western rhetoric. But, to address their domestic imperatives, they are strategically tapping into African governments’ call for alternative partners. The three states offer their African partners development cooperation and financing that depart from the Western model. They tend to offer a more flexible and rapid deployment of funding. Their state-backed economic models also align political agendas with strategic investments. This allows them to leverage their financial resources to fill the capital and political void left by other international players. Such alignment is timely and could be mutually beneficial as African and Gulf states navigate the shifting dynamics of global power distribution. It also seems to be boosting Gulf states’ political capital with African governments. But the monarchies’ strategic interests may not always line up with Africa’s long-term development goals, which could foster extractive and exploitative relationships. Their expansion in Africa could also reduce the space for Europeans to rebuild their ties with the continent. Europe Europeans maintain a significant presence in Africa. But the fragmenting global order could challenge their status, particularly in the face of the second Trump presidency and its implications for Western unity. European economic engagement in Africa has been declining for some time, just as Western governance, aid and financing models are meeting competition For now the EU remains sub-Saharan Africa’s largest trading partner, with trade flows between the two regions valued at approximately $300bn annually. Yet, the EU’s share of trade with sub-Saharan Africa has dropped significantly since 1990. This reflects competition from countries like China, whose rapid ascent is evident in its large increases of both imports and exports with the region. Indeed, China now rivals the EU in terms of imports to sub-Saharan Africa.   Sub-Saharan Africa’s imports from China have grown especially in the consumer-goods sector, but also increasingly in the energy and other industrial sectors. The EU, meanwhile, continues to dominate in imports of high-value goods such as machinery, chemicals and vehicles. Sub-Saharan Africa exports primarily raw materials, minerals, and oil to Europe, akin to its exports to other regions, such as China and the Gulf countries. Emerging players like the UAE have witnessed a steady growth in their overall share (though percentages do not reach 10% of the total yet). Gulf-Africa (geo)economic relations on the riseInvestment and finance The scale of Gulf financial engagement in Africa underscores the monarchies’ expansion. In 2022 and 2023 the Gulf Cooperation Council states collectively funnelled nearly $113bn of FDI into the continent, exceeding their total investments over the previous decade ($102bn). The UAE, Saudi Arabia and Qatar are investing most in sectors that not only reflect their interests, but in which Africa’s needs are greatest: energy and climate and infrastructure It is the infrastructure (and connectivity) investments that form the backbone of their expansion. Interests among the states overlap, but the UAE invested first and by far the most in ports, logistics networks and special economic zones. Saudi Arabia is the main investor in roads. All three states have stakes in sub-Saharan Africa’s air connectivity, though Saudi Arabia to a lesser extent to date.  These investments open up new opportunities across the continent. They also boost the Gulf states’ geostrategic presence, helping to fill a gap in Africa’s infrastructure that China has only partially filled over the last 20 years—while the EU is only now trying to launch a comeback with the Global Gateway. Moreover, Gulf states are helping to fill the funding gap that Western financiers left as they withdrew. In 2021, for example, the UAE pledged $4.5bn to support energy transition efforts in Africa. This financial commitment is meant to support green energy, infrastructure development and the wider energy transition. In March 2024, four Emirati banks helped the Africa Finance Corporation (AFC) raise $1.15bn in the largest syndicated loan ever pooled together by the AFC. Saudi Arabia, which has long provided development assistance to Africa through the Saudi Development Fund, signed a 2023 memorandum of understanding with the AFC to jointly finance infrastructure across the continent. In late 2024 the Saudi government pledged $41bn through a mix of financing tools to finance start-ups, provide import-export credit and spur private sector growth in Africa over the next 10 years. In 2022 Qatar pledged a $200m donation for climate adaptation projects in African countries vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, including funding for drought and flood mitigation programmes, as well as renewable energy access in off-grid communities. In 2024 it contributed to the creation of Rwanda’s Virunga Africa Fund I, launched with $250m to strengthen social services and private sector growth in innovative domains in Rwanda and the rest of Africa. However, many of the investments and deals are opaque and come with limited accountability. This raises questions about whether Gulf-Africa financial and investment partnerships will truly be mutually beneficial. The balance of power often tilts in favour of the Gulf monarchies due to their financial strength, which may lead to asymmetrical outcomes—including a potential increase of debt burdens in Africa. Despite focusing on critical sectors for Africa’s development, these investments may not shift the underlying dynamics of extractivism that have historically characterised Africa’s relations with external players. As the trade data clearly show, this includes the Gulf states. Trade The UAE’s foreign policy has long been more focused on trade than that of the other two Gulf states. Accordingly, trade (including those goods it re-imports and exports via its economic zones) between the UAE and sub-Saharan Africa has grown robustly over the past decade. Qatar and Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, have seen more limited change. The UAE ventured early into trade, logistics and services to secure sustainable revenues—particularly Dubai, an emirate with very limited oil reserves. Emiratis have undertaken extensive expansion of port and transport infrastructure across Africa (led by logistics giants such as the Dubai-based DP World and, more recently, Abu Dhabi Ports). This has helped turn the UAE into a trade gateway between Africa and the world.   The composition of Gulf-Africa trade reveals deeper dynamics in the economic relationship. In line with their global trading patterns, fuels and hydrocarbon derivatives dominate Emirati, Qatari and Saudi exports to sub-Saharan Africa. This reflects the centrality of fossil fuels in Gulf states’ expansion in the continent. The population of sub-Saharan Africa is rapidly growing; the region is also industrialising and urbanising at pace. The whole of Africa’s energy demand will likely increase by 30% by 2040—including fossil fuels. This creates new markets for Gulf states in sub-Saharan Africa. Sub-Saharan African exports to the Gulf, meanwhile, are largely made up of metals and minerals, including gold, as well as agricultural products. This underscores how the export relationship is largely extractive. Gold trade is particularly notable in the sub-Saharan Africa-UAE relationship, helping consolidate the country as a key global importer and refiner of the precious metal.   These trade patterns highlight mutual dependencies but also expose structural imbalances. Sub-Saharan Africa’s export profile—heavily skewed toward raw commodities—limits its benefits to African states, while Gulf countries capitalise on higher-value imports and exports. Energy diplomacy and the green transition Africa’s vast natural resources mean the continent is central to the global energy transition. Alongside reserves of oil and gas, it boasts plentiful minerals essential for renewable technologies (such as lithium, cobalt and rare earth elements), abundant solar energy potential, and well-preserved forests for carbon offset. This, combined with the region’s large and increasing energy demand, helps centre energy and climate in the Gulf’s African expansion. A rapid transition away from fossil fuels is unrealistic for the Gulf states, given their reliance on them for export revenues and GDP. In Africa, meanwhile, oil and gas still account for 40% of energy consumed by end users (its final energy consumption). As discussed, this creates new markets for Gulf states in which they can help meet Africa’s current and future demand. But Africa also acts as a gateway to new energy value chains. Gulf leaders know the hydrocarbon era is waning. This means they could lose the leverage oil and gas brought them in global energy governance. To maintain their relevance, they aim to lead in green economies too. They therefore work to integrate Africa’s energy markets and resources into their broader strategy for sustainable economic transformation. Hydrocarbons Gulf countries’ economies are betting on African governments’ interest in further exploiting their oil and gas resources to increase revenues and fulfil growing demand. Saudi Arabia and the UAE are mostly eyeing investments in distribution (downstream), and transportation and storage (midstream); while they have traditionally shown limited interest in Africa’s oil and gas exploration and production (upstream). Qatar, by contrast, is more focused on exploring upstream production and increasing its stakes in Africa’s LNG sector. This aligns with Qatar’s unique energy profile as a leader in the global LNG market. It also gels with its long-term strategy to consolidate global dominance in natural gas, especially as the energy transition increases demand for cleaner-burning fuels like gas. The UAE might be eyeing Africa’s LNG sector as well, as it expects natural gas to contribute more significantly to its energy mix by 2050, but currently relies on Qatar for nearly one-third of its supply. Africa may prove helpful in expanding gas investments. Emirati energy giant Abu Dhabi National Oil Company, for example, has a stake in Mozambique’s Rovuma LNG project and a gas deal with BP in Egypt.   African countries find common ground with the Gulf states in resisting the rapid phase out of oil and gas advocated by advanced economies. For African nations, oil and gas remain vital sources of revenue, industrial growth and energy security; Gulf states need these resources as they are integral to their global influence and economic diversification efforts. This challenges the European position on oil and gas, and their reciprocal alignment could cement stronger consensus around a dual approach to the energy transition. Green value chains The UAE’s “We the UAE 2031” vision and Saudi Arabia’s “Vision 2030” are economic reform plans that include commitments to diversify their economies away from hydrocarbons. This underscores their leaders’ recognition that fossil fuels may not be around forever, but mainly that green value chains hold great value. The UAE and Saudi Arabia (but much less so Qatar) are therefore investing in the green energy transitions, both at home and abroad. Their investment also allows them to maintain their influence in global energy decision-making, including the speed and pathways to a net-zero world and economy. With its abundant solar and wind resources, sub-Saharan Africa is an ideal testing ground for Gulf countries to expand their renewable energy expertise. It is also an environment in which they can develop scalable projects and build exportable green technology capacities. All three Gulf states are investing in solar and wind plants across sub-Saharan Africa. They have also shown appetite in other renewable fields, such as batteries, green hydrogen and thermal energy. The UAE leads in this through its companies Masdar and AMEA Power; Saudi Arabia’s ACWA Power is also getting in on the act. Qatar has been eyeing opportunities for investments, though it favours joint or brownfield investments in large foreign companies’ projects to limit risks and costs.   Though several of these commitments are today pledges, their involvement could potentially contribute to expanding access to energy in Africa, helping address the continent’s critical energy deficit. Their dual-track approach to the energy transition allows them to advocate for a pragmatic transition that balances decarbonisation with energy security and economic development, enhancing their reputation among African governments as forward-thinking states on energy. Critical minerals At the same time, the UAE and Saudi Arabia are investing in mineral value chains. This underlines the strategic importance of these resources in their economic diversification and technological ambitions. Gold is the top import product from Africa to the UAE. But other minerals such as copper also rank high in Emirati imports—and in those to Saudi Arabia as well. These minerals are the backbone of the green economy. They are also critical for the digital transformation (including AI and defence, with the UAE eyeing dual-use minerals as it develops its national defence industry), but also infrastructure. In line with its trade-focused foreign policy, the UAE is seemingly more interested in tapping into the trade of these commodities. Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, seems keen to access raw resources for import, necessary to boost its industrial ambitions at home. Under Vision 2030, Saudi Arabia aims to develop domestic manufacturing and high-tech industries, such as electric vehicles and renewable energy technologies. Accessing African minerals aims to support this strategy by providing the necessary input for domestic production, and enabling Saudi Arabia to move up the value chain.   For African countries, the global race for critical minerals is a unique opportunity to move beyond their traditional role as providers of raw commodities. Many African governments recognise the potential of these resources to catalyse industrialisation, create jobs and generate more value domestically. This shift in perspective has led to increasing demands for investments that prioritise local processing and manufacturing rather than merely extracting and exporting raw materials. However, the extent to which Gulf players will align with these aspirations remains uncertain. Where the Gulf states diverge Despite some similar drivers, Emirati, Saudi and Qatari approaches in Africa vary significantly. The nuances stem from the states’ different domestic imperatives and foreign policy strategies. Although the shift to geoeconomics is clear, this underlines how the three states—especially the UAE—could still influence security across the continent as well as in their traditional regions of interest. Country profiles The UAE lacks significant domestic industrial capacity (except for the gold sector). This means it needs bigger and better trade routes to secure its revenues. Here, Africa’s expanding consumer markets and its centrality in green value chains offers an opportunity. Abu Dhabi adopts a risk-prone, largely state-backed, approach—though this is mitigated by a strong orientation towards economic returns. The UAE’s presence is becoming increasingly entrenched across the African continent. Despite focusing outwardly on economics, the UAE’s ability to leverage political influence to safeguard its interests has not gone away, as its involvement in Sudan shows. This politico-security approach is less visible in other parts of Africa, though it remains a tool that could shape Emirati-African relations in the years ahead. As the UAE’s economic interests expand in Africa, its leaders may find they have more to protect—which could increase the risk of them deploying the security approach.  The UAE’s energy diplomacy reinforces the idea that the country’s involvement in Africa will extend beyond economic ventures: the 2024 COP28 climate conference in Dubai, for instance, laid bare Emirati ambitions to position the UAE as a global leader in the energy transition. African alignment with the monarchy on the need for a dual approach makes Africa a key arena for Abu Dhabi to mobilise consensus. Saudi Arabia faces urgent domestic socio-economic imperatives linked to a growing population (largely under the age of 25) and high unemployment rates. This contrasts with the UAE and Qatar, which grapple with a shortage of domestic workforce. Africa is therefore appealing as a contributor to Riyadh’s economic transformation programme, which envisages a strong diversification of the economy. Green value chains rank high amid these efforts. But internal socio-economic constraints and the urgency of domestic reforms have prompted Riyadh to adopt a risk-averse stance. This has resulted in cautious and geographically limited engagement across the African continent. This caution contrasts with Riyadh’s more interventionist posture in the 2010s in the near abroad. Its aggressive policies to gain allies on the African side of the Red Sea strained rivalries with its neighbours. This included, for instance, the monarchy’s war against Houthis in Yemen from 2015, and its interference that contributed to the ousting of Sudan’s president Omar al-Bashir in 2019. Saudi Arabia now relies more on soft power and economic diplomacy, leveraging its traditional leadership of the Muslim world and development aid to advance its influence. This has led it towards a new approach largely oriented towards stabilisation—especially in the Horn of Africa—and multilateral dialogue. Yet, as Riyadh seeks to balance economic imperatives with geopolitical caution, its engagement in Africa remains transactional. Today, it is driven by immediate strategic needs rather than a long-term vision. Qatar, unlike the UAE and Saudi Arabia, is less constrained by energy transition-related pressures. Its reliance on gas provides Doha with greater economic stability (albeit vulnerable to overdependence on gas for revenues) and a competitive edge in the global energy market. Qatar has not to date significantly changed its approach to Africa, which is characterised by a focus on selective, strategically significant investments that hold both political and economic relevance. These targeted initiatives aim to strengthen bilateral ties in key sectors rather than pursuing broad-based engagement. This restraint is a reflection of Doha’s limited institutional knowledge of Africa and an overall risk-averse foreign policy, which often leads to it to engage in brownfield investments rather than expand into new ventures. Qatar, similar to Saudi Arabia, pursues a soft-power approach to political affairs on the continent. This is characterised by a strong emphasis on conflict mediation. It has played key diplomatic roles in past negotiations, such as in the Darfur conflict, the Eritrea-Djibouti border dispute and Somali reconciliation efforts. More recently, in March 2025 it hosted mediations between the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda, managing to bring both sides to the table where other negotiators failed. This approach aims to enhance its global standing as a facilitator of dialogue and peace. Its Africa strategy is a balancing act between economic priorities and broader diplomatic ambitions.   What this means for Europe The EU and its member states will have to work with Gulf states in Africa. If they fail to do so, their political and economic decline on the continent could accelerate. This would also likely open up space for power blocs such as Gulf-China and Gulf-Russia partnerships to deepen their relations with African countries. But a lack of engagement with Gulf states also means Europeans would miss out on opportunities. Crucially, Europeans could benefit from collaboration with Gulf powers to align with African governments in shaping reciprocal green industrial transitions. These risks and opportunities stem from the strengths and weaknesses of Gulf states’ involvement in Africa.   These features also create synergies between Europe and Gulf states in Africa. The EU and its member states can add unique value to sectors vital to Gulf states’ interests, which could help mitigate the risks both sides face. Gulf countries, for example, would benefit from European technological know-how and innovation in sectors such as renewable energy. Moreover, Europeans have extensive experience and interest in human capital development; Saudi Arabia’s and Qatar’s soft-power approach means they have a growing interest in providing education and training. This could combine to help build the skilled and educated workforce that Africa’s rapid development and industrialisation requires. More synergies exist in Europeans’ longstanding political and institutional presence across Africa, as well as their focus on regulatory frameworks and experience dealing with African markets and governance structures. This could all be of use to the less Africa-experienced Gulf countries, helping to minimise their exposure to political and economic uncertainties. Europeans would gain reciprocal benefits through access to Gulf states’ financial resources, their capacity to roll out large scale projects, and their work to expand connectivity. The monarchies are also building greater influence in forums such as the UN and the G20, and more specifically in the energy sector (the COP climate conferences, for example, but also Saudi Arabia’s Future Minerals Forum). Through this, Europeans could leverage their relations with Gulf states in Africa to respond to the demands of the global south for equality in global governance. This would not only bolster Europe’s role in Africa’s sustainable growth but also help Europeans maintain a competitive edge in the evolving global energy and geoeconomic landscape. African governments would also benefit. Cultivating a diverse range of international partners lies at the heart of their newly enhanced bargaining geopolitical and economic power. This means that fostering Europe-Gulf cooperation could be vital for Africans to mitigate the risks of a declining European presence and the expanding (but still nascent) expansion by Gulf states. How Europeans should respond Initially, the EU and its member states should focus on four opportunities for cooperation with Gulf and African states. 1.Energy cooperation and access. The growing presence of Gulf states in Africa’s energy transition means Europeans can help improve access to (clean) energy across the continent. Gulf states are investing in power-generation projects and transport networks. These could enhance Africa’s economic growth, contribute to its market expansion (also through regional integration), and make the continent more attractive for other investors. Europe’s technological expertise in renewable energy complements the Gulf states’ investment capabilities and ambitions in this sector. a.Opportunity: Europeans should consider joint investment with Gulf states in Africa’s renewable energy projects. The UAE’s Masdar and Saudi Arabia’s ACWA Power can roll out large-scale renewable projects. European governments and companies would benefit from collaboration with such companies and with African governments, not only to help boost Africa’s renewable capacity but also to reduce the risks and costs of investment. For example, the government of Mauritania is already collaborating with the UAE’s Infinity Power and the German developer Conjuncta to develop a 10 gigawatt green hydrogen plant in the country. European energy companies should also leverage Qatar’s risk-aversion and interest in reducing risks via partnerships to expand their operations (as hinted at in a 2024 deal between Italy’s Enel Green Power and the Qatar Investment Authority). b.Risk: If Europeans do not take up such opportunities, Gulf countries could end up dominating Africa’s renewables sector. Their involvement in the continent’s energy market expansion may prioritise Gulf-centric policies over European or African climate and energy as well as industrial interests. Without a stronger European presence, Europe risks missing opportunities to contribute shaping Africa’s energy landscape in a way that aligns with both European interests and global climate objectives. 2.Cross-regional infrastructure development. The Gulf states’ investment in infrastructure and regional connectivity mean Europeans could help boost Africa’s economic growth and stimulate investors’ interest. Given the sheer scale and complexity of these projects, trilateral cooperation would help distribute costs, risks and expertise. By proactively collaborating with Gulf states, in particular the UAE and Saudi Arabia, Europeans can secure a role in Africa’s infrastructure transformation. This would help them ensure that major projects also align with European trade interests and long-term strategic priorities. a.Opportunity: The EU and member states should cooperate with Gulf and African states on infrastructure, focusing on the UAE’s maritime and logistics capabilities and Saudi Arabia’s substantial infrastructure investment. This would enable them to accelerate critical projects, from roads to power plants and energy distribution systems. Europeans should also collaborate with Gulf and African states on cross-regional railways. Trilateral cooperation on such initiatives as the “Lobito Corridor” (linking Angola, DRC and Zambia) would contribute to the development of high-impact infrastructure that no single state could easily undertake alone. b.Risk: If Europe does not do this, it risks being sidelined from new trade corridors and supply chains that will shape the continent’s economic and geopolitical landscape. Control over critical infrastructure—ports, railways, logistics hubs and energy networks—is a vital tool of geoeconomic influence, determining who facilitates and benefits from Africa’s economic growth. If Europe remains passive, Gulf and other external actors could shape Africa’s infrastructure in ways that reduce European access, limit European firms’ market participation and weaken Europe’s overall influence on regional economic integration. 3.Capacity building and human capital development. Africa’s rapid development requires an educated and skilled workforce. Saudi Arabia and Qatar have a growing interest in education and vocational training, an area in which Europeans have extensive experience. This is another potential area for trilateral cooperation. a.Opportunity: The EU and member states should collaborate with African and Gulf countries to launch joint capacity-building initiatives. Europeans would bring a unique contribution to these efforts through their experience in advanced training models, institution-building and regulatory frameworks. Moreover, African countries should proactively coordinate new Gulf efforts with European know-how, particularly in vital sectors such as energy and infrastructure. b.Risk: Inaction from European and African governments could mean Gulf-led training programmes shape Africa’s workforce according to the monarchies’ strategic priorities. This risks limiting European influence in Africa’s future development. It could also compromise European access to a skilled African workforce—essential to ensure foreign investors can ensure they meet African demands for local content. 4.Financial instruments and investment mechanisms. Africa’s development requires significant capital inflows, but investors often see the continent as high risk. The Gulf states’ growing role as both a financier and developer of Africa’s energy infrastructure presents opportunities for joint de-risking strategies. This would help both European and Gulf investors to overcome these risks. By pooling resources and expertise, Europe and Gulf countries can expand the capital available to fill Africa’s financing gaps—particularly for large-scale energy and infrastructure projects. a.Opportunity: European financial institutions should work with their African counterparts and Gulf investors and developers to de-risk their investment in Africa. This should include, for example, the European Investment Bank and European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, but also member states’ development banks such as the KfW (Germany) or Cassa Depositi e Prestiti (Italy). Such collaboration would help them de-risk investments and roll out large-scale infrastructure and energy projects, or scale up existing ones. This collaboration would appeal particularly to risk-averse countries such as Saudi Arabia and Qatar. b.Risk: Without this, Gulf investors could increasingly dominate Africa’s investment landscape. This shift could result in financial structures that, while effective for Gulf interests, may not align with European business practices, regulatory standards or long-term sustainability goals. That would likely result in European companies facing a more competitive and opaque investment environment. It could also erode Europe’s ability to promote investments that meet both Africa’s needs and European objectives. These four initial opportunities could act as a testing ground for trilateral cooperation. This, in turn, may create new synergies between all three parties. Europeans would then be well placed to build on this initial engagement to safeguard its geopolitical and geoeconomic interests in Africa; while developing new partnerships with rising powers that may benefit Europeans well beyond the continent.  Acknowledgements We would like to thank the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation for their generous support that allowed us to organise workshops and conduct extensive research and travel. We are immensely grateful to Kim Butson, our editor, for helping us keep a clear direction, and for her unwavering patience especially in the last editorial phases. And to Nastassia Zenovich for giving such a great visual shape to our ideas. We are also very thankful to the entire ECFR Africa and MENA teams’ colleagues for regular brainstorming and helping us challenge our assumptions. Last but not least, this paper would not have been possible without the many officials, diplomats, experts and thinkers in Europe, Africa and the Gulf, who generously dedicated their time and ideas, contributing significantly to shaping this project.This article was first published by the European Council on Foreign Relations (ECFR) [here].

Diplomacy
Korea-Africa Future Partnership Conference in Jongno-gu, Seoul

A comparison between South Korea’s Rice Belt Initiative and China’s BRI Initiative, their role in Africa, and development projects in Egypt

by Nadia Helmy

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском My analysis of South Korean relations with Egypt and a comparison with China, my academic and research specialty, comes as Egypt and South Korea celebrate the 30th anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations on April 14, 2025. Relations between the two countries have witnessed continuous development, encompassing various political, economic, cultural, and educational fields over the past three decades. Egyptian-Korean relations date back to 1948, when Egypt officially recognized the independence of the Republic of South Korea. Egyptian-South Korean cooperation currently extends to development cooperation for the next five years to meet development requirements, promote the transition to a green economy, and expand sustainable infrastructure projects.  Especially with South Korea's selection of Egypt as a strategic partner in its development cooperation plans for the period 2022-2026. While China is investing in its massive Belt and Road Initiative, and Russia is using its security arms to strengthen its presence in Africa, South Korea is focusing on a different kind of belt related to food security. The South Korea-led Rice Belt Initiative, particularly within the African continent, aims to boost rice production in African countries by introducing high-yielding rice varieties, providing seeds, providing training, and supporting irrigation systems. Through partnerships with eight African countries, most notably Cameroon, Gambia, Ghana, Guinea-Bissau, Kenya, Senegal, and Uganda, South Korea is investing in agricultural capacity building and promoting rice cultivation and distribution in these and other African countries to enhance food security through partnerships between South Korea and African countries.  Through major South Korean initiatives, such as official development assistance, capacity building programs, technology transfer, and the Rice Belt, South Korea aims to bridge the development gap and strengthen its role as a pivotal global power. With the arrival of US President “Trump” in his second term, following a series of trade wars against China during his first term and his increase in tariffs on China by more than 100%, relations between the United States and China have become fraught with tension, especially with China's firm response to the US administration with a policy of reciprocal retaliation, Beijing's reciprocal increase in tariffs imposed on US goods and products, and even China's imposition of trade restrictions on US companies operating within its territory, particularly those owned by the well-known American businessman “Elon Musk”. Here we see the extent to which South Korea currently benefits from the tensions between the Chinese and American superpowers, as it is a smaller player in managing relations between the major powers.  This is precisely what Keun Lee, former vice chairman of the National Economic Advisory Council to the South Korean president, winner of the 2014 Schumpeter Prize, and author of “China: Technological Leapfrogging and Economic Catch-Up: A Schumpeterian Perspective”, which is issued by: (Oxford University Press, 2022), in this aforementioned book, Keun Lee analyzes the situation for South Korea and the nature of the dispute between China and the United States, emphasizing that South Korean companies are reaping significant benefits from the trade and technological restrictions imposed by the United States on China, which have at least slowed the “Sinicization” of manufacturing and global value chains. Since South Korea and China produce a large number of the same goods and types, such as: (consumer electronics, batteries, cars, ships), and more, according to Keun Lee’s analysis, the less China’s share of the American and Western market diminishes, the more South Korea will have. Indeed, Western and American sanctions, in particular, imposed on the Chinese tech giant Huawei, have given a boost.  Strong sales of wireless systems produced by Samsung. Similarly, if Chinese industry has less access to Western technology, it is likely to turn to South Korean companies. South Korea is attempting to capitalize on this by adopting a new development strategy for partnerships with Egypt and other African countries, and holding the first South Korea-Africa summit in June 2024. Here, we can draw a simple comparison between the development roles of China and South Korea within the African continent. China primarily focuses on its massive financial power through its Belt and Road Initiative, as well as its efforts to fundamentally change the nature of African countries. What is interesting is that South Korea, which possesses significant strengths, has decided to join the bandwagon to win in Africa. South Korea is keen to move away from following the Chinese model in Africa. As noted during the first South Korea-Africa summit in June 2024, South Korea is serving as a bridge or communication channel in the international community as a responsible middle power, based on its own development experience compared to China.  Noting South Korea's keenness to avoid presenting itself as a strong competitor to China or others within the African continent The modern history of South Korean relations with Africa begins with the Korean War on June 25, 1950, with the participation of units from the Ethiopian and South African armies within the United Nations forces. This included the “Mehal Sevare Unit”, the bodyguard unit of the Ethiopian emperor, which was sent to support South Korea, despite Ethiopia being one of the poorest countries in the world at the time. This Ethiopian aid contributed to building friendly and special relations between the two countries after the war ended. As a result, an African Union office in South Korea was established within the Ethiopian embassy, and the South Korean government established a memorial garden in honor of the Ethiopian soldiers who participated in the war in support of South Korea. Given the importance of the partnership with South Korea, President El-Sisi's keenness during his visit to South Korea was to enhance the Egyptian state's efforts to localize South Korean industry in Egypt, reflecting the promising prospects for diverse and anticipated Egyptian partnerships with South Korea. Here, we find President El-Sisi's commitment to localizing South Korean technology in Egypt, which was clearly demonstrated by the localization of the South Korean railway car industry in Egypt in the Suez Canal Economic Zone. This aims to gradually enhance Egyptian local content and bolster Egyptian supply efforts to markets in the Arab region and Africa, through Egyptian partnerships between the public and private sectors in South Korea. Therefore, we find President Sisi keen to benefit from South Korean expertise in localizing technology and attracting foreign investment, which contributes to the creation of approximately 5,000 job opportunities for Egyptian youth in the Suez Canal Economic Zone, achieving social and economic progress in the region. On the development front, South Korea is keen to provide development grants to Egypt and all African countries, through the “Korea International Cooperation Agency” (KOICA), especially in the fields of higher education, intellectual property, vocational training, information technology, establishing an electronic system for government procurement, women's economic empowerment, and combating violence. Meanwhile, South Korea's concessional development financing is diversified, covering (railways, subway car manufacturing, knowledge transfer programs, and government capacity building programs). Egyptian-South Korean cooperation has increased in light of the strategic partnership between the two countries, particularly in light of South Korea's selection of Egypt as its strategic partner in development cooperation for the next five years.  Many South Korean projects in Egypt are being financed through the concessional financing window provided by the Korea Economic Development Cooperation Fund (KEDCF), a subsidiary of the Export-Import Bank of Korea. This was evident in a $460 million South Korean development financing agreement with Egypt to implement the project to manufacture and supply 40 train units (320 cars) for the second and third lines of the Greater Cairo Metro. South Korean companies also have a significant presence in the New Administrative Capital and the Suez Canal Development Corridor, most notably Hyundai Rotem in the Suez Canal Economic Zone. The Hyundai Rotem Group includes more than 14 South Korean companies operating in three main sectors: trains and railway equipment, military industries related to land weapons, heavy machinery and equipment, energy infrastructure, and iron and steel. It is also a leading company in modern technologies related to the use of hydrogen fuel in vehicles and equipments. Egyptian-South Korean relations are diverse across several fields, not limited to development cooperation efforts between the two countries, but also extend to trade, investment, and culture, with many South Korean companies investing in Egypt in various fields, such as technology, communications, electronics, and others. During his recent visit to South Korea, the Egyptian government and Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi were keen to advance cooperation with the South Korean side and provide full support for South Korean investments in Egypt, encompassing a wide variety of fields. Korea is one of Egypt's most important trading partners in East Asia. South Korea is also an important source for the transfer of industrial expertise and technology to Egypt.  There are many areas of potential cooperation between South Korea and Egypt in the Dabaa nuclear power plant projects, the most prominent of which, are: (joint manufacturing in the electronics sector, where Korean products for Samsung and LG are manufactured by Egyptians). Furthermore, 90% of Egypt's electronics exports are conducted in cooperation with South Korea. In addition, there is fruitful cooperation between the two countries in electric vehicle projects, seawater desalination, and railway development projects. In 2022, South Korea announced a $1 billion loan to Egypt from the South Korean Development Cooperation Fund. This comes as part of South Korea's efforts to build a cooperative partnership with Egypt and promote sustainable development between the two countries. This agreement also aims to conclude trade agreements and expand the scope of South Korean cooperation with Egypt in the environmentally friendly transportation, maritime, and space development sectors. At the same time, both countries agree on the importance of overcoming the climate crisis, especially after Egypt hosted the (COP27 international climate conference) in Sharm El-Sheikh. In recent years, South Korea has been seeking to create a state of rapprochement with the African continent, especially Egypt. The first Korea-Africa summit, held in early June 2024, marked a historic milestone, as South Korean ex-President “Yoon Suk-yeol” and leaders from 48 African countries met to deepen trade and economic cooperation. This led to the convening of the Korea-Africa Summit, a new initiative launched by South Korea to support cooperation with African countries in light of the challenges facing countries worldwide, particularly food security, climate challenges, and supply chain issues. Given Egypt's prominent position in Africa, South Korea sought to establish a strategic partnership with Africa, particularly Egypt, based on three axes: promoting trade and investment to achieve economic development and confronting global challenges, such as: (climate change and food security, and promoting peace, security, and cooperation in international forums). During the first Africa-South Korea summit, South Korean ex-President Yoon announced South Korea's commitment to increasing development assistance to Africa, pledging $10 billion over the next six years. This significant financial support underscores South Korea's interest in Africa's vast mineral wealth and its potential as a major export market. In his closing remarks, ex-President “Yoon” stated that: “the important Minerals Dialogue launched by South Korea and Africa sets an example for a stable supply chain through mutually beneficial cooperation and contributes to the sustainable development of mineral resources worldwide”. On the Chinese side, given the Chinese government's commitment to holding China-Africa summits, known as “FOCAC”, since 2002, which bring together most African leaders, these China-Africa summits hold significant significance for Western governments and the US administration. While Washington maintains its primary military alliance in East Asia through U.S. Forces Korea—stationing approximately 28,500 troops in South Korea—its growing concern also extends to Africa, where China’s expanding influence, exemplified by the China-Africa summits, represents a new source of geopolitical friction and tension in U.S.-China relations. Through its advanced economic ties with African countries, China provides significant assistance to African regimes that the United States and Europe are seeking to pressure to review their records on human rights, good governance, monopoly policy, and other issues. Sino-African relations have also witnessed rapid development, especially in the economic field, which China prefers as an easy and acceptable path in its dealings with developing countries, whether in the form of trade exchange, loans, grants, or investment gifts. These are characterized by the absence of political conditionality, which distinguishes them from their Western counterparts and makes them acceptable to poor African societies, both at the official and opular levels. This facilitates the task of the Chinese actor in penetrating these societies until Beijing became the main trading partner of the African continent, as Beijing considers its relations with Africans an important part of its strategy to enhance its economic and political influence at the global level and to be the center of the circle for these countries within the concept of its soft and quiet power, within the framework of the policy of relations between the countries of the South-South.  To this end, China seeks to increase its political position within the African continent and address African sensitivities, which are burdened with negative perceptions of Western colonialism. This is achieved by talking about reforming international institutions and glorifying national sovereignty, which was rediscovered after the Western colonial withdrawal from Africa. China also declares its solidarity with the countries of the South through economic positions and development promises. This is the same kind of talk that Africans hear from major powers like Beijing, in the face of Western ambitions. Based on this, we understand the extent of competition between China and South Korea in Egypt and other African countries, and their adoption of African summit policies through solidarity and development cooperation with Egypt and across the African continent, with African countries' ambitions to diversify their businesses, they are pushing both Beijing and Seoul to embrace their vision of building a multipolar world, the right of Africans to a permanent seat on the Security Council after UN reform, opposition to colonialism in all its new forms and manifestations, and the depoliticization of domestic issues such as human rights and democracy, among others.

Defense & Security
Double exposure of Sudan flag. Symbols depicting the Civil War. The civil war between Sudanese government forces and the paramilitary

Sudan’s war isn’t nearly over – armed civilian groups are rising

by Mohamed Saad

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Sudan’s war, now entering its third year, has taken another unexpected turn. In March 2025, the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), also known as the Janjaweed, withdrew from Khartoum, abandoning the presidential palace and airport. This retreat marks a significant contrast to the paramilitary group’s earlier victory when troops stormed the capital in April 2023. The fall of Khartoum is a turning point. But, based on my research into Sudan’s political turmoil over the past three decades, I don’t believe recent developments mark the war’s final chapter. What began as a power struggle between two military factions is now transforming into a much wider conflict, marked by deepening fragmentation and the rise of armed civilian groups. Across the country, new militias are emerging, many formed by civilians who once had no part in the war. The army encouraged civilians to fight, but now it faces a growing number of independent armed groups. In cities and rural areas alike, civilians have taken up arms. Some are fighting alongside the army, answering calls from the military leadership, including army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, to defend their neighbourhoods and families. Others have formed self-defence units to protect against looting and violence. Some have joined breakaway militias that have their own agendas. These groups don’t share a single goal. Some fight for self-defence, others for political power. Some for revenue and wealth. Others are seeking ethnic control – Sudan’s population has 56 ethnic groups and 595 sub-ethnic groups. This is what makes Sudan’s war even more dangerous: fragmentation is creating multiple mini-wars within the larger conflict. How the Rapid Support Forces lost Khartoum Several key factors forced the RSF to retreat from Khartoum after it claimed control of the Sudanese capital city two years earlier. • Internal fractures: The RSF, built on tribal loyalty, struggled to hold together as the war dragged on. Many factions felt sidelined by its leader, Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti. • Civilian resistance: The RSF’s reliance on brutality backfired, alienating even those who might have supported them. Instead of consolidating control, they turned civilians into enemies. The RSF relied on terror – looting, mass killings and sexual violence. Instead of gaining control, they provoked fierce resistance. Armed civilians, originally taking up arms in self-defence, have become an informal militia network working against the RSF. • Foreign intervention: Reports suggest Egyptian airstrikes and tactical support helped the army take Khartoum. Additionally, Turkish-made Bayraktar drones weakened RSF positions. With supply lines cut, the RSF had no choice but to retreat. Khartoum was not just a battlefield defeat for the RSF. It was a turning point in how the war is fought – it’s no longer a military struggle but a battle involving armed civilians across Sudan. Based on reports from humanitarian organisations, conflict monitors and local testimonies, a clearer picture has emerged of a growing number of armed groups operating across Sudan. These groups have formed in response to the escalating conflict. Recent analyses highlight that arms trafficking and intensified community mobilisation have accelerated within the past two years. Neighbourhood defence units have emerged in urban areas like El-Gezira in central Sudan, El-Fasher in North Darfur, Al-Dalang in South Kordofan, El-Obeid in North Kordofan, Babanusa in West Kordofan and Khartoum. They were initially formed to protect residential zones from the RSF but have since expanded their roles and increasingly operate outside the oversight of the army. Tribal and regional militias have also become more prominent, particularly in Darfur and Kordofan. In these regions, entrenched ethnic and political rivalries have intertwined with the current war. Some of these militia groups have aligned with the army. Others remain independent, pursuing their own agendas, which include securing territory. In Darfur, growing anger at Hemedti’s favouritism towards his own tribe (Rizeigat) led to defections. Internal divisions within the RSF have played a major role in its recent losses. Some former RSF fighters have formed their own militias. The RSF was never a unified force, but a tribal alliance dominated by the Dagalo family and Rizeigat elites. Initially, gold revenues secured loyalty, but as the war has dragged on, internal fractures have deepened. Another ethnic-linked group is the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-North. It has expanded its control in Kordofan and Blue Nile, two resource-rich regions in southern Sudan. The group allied with the RSF to push its own agenda, which includes securing greater autonomy for these regions and promoting a secular political framework that challenges Khartoum’s Islamist-leaning governance. Other ethnic militias also operate in eastern Sudan, supported by neighbouring countries such as Eritrea, further escalating the situation. Islamist-linked militias are also on the rise. The main example of these groups is El Baraa Ibn Malik Brigade, which emerged as a key player supporting the army against the RSF. Reports link the group to remnants of the Omar al-Bashir regime (1993-2019) – the dissolved Popular Defence Forces. This was a paramilitary group established in the mid-1980s to defend Arab tribes and support the military. It flourished under the al-Bashir regime. What next? While the RSF’s retreat from Khartoum is a major victory for the Sudanese army, it doesn’t mean stability is returning. Instead, Sudan is now facing a dangerous new reality: the rise of civilian militarisation. If not reined in, these groups could evolve and establish de facto warlord-run territories where local commanders wield unchecked power. This would undermine any prospects for centralised governance in Sudan. With militias multiplying and no clear political solution, Sudan risks becoming a battlefield of warring factions. Meanwhile, international mediators are struggling to find a solution while foreign interference continues. The United Arab Emirates, a major RSF backer, still supports Hemedti financially, ensuring he remains active in Sudan’s gold trade.

Diplomacy
Salva Kiir, president of semi-autonomous South Sudan, waits to receive Omar al Bashir on his visit to the southern capital Juba. File:Kiir awaits - Flickr - Al Jazeera English.jpg

Is South Sudan’s Peace Deal Falling Apart Again?

by Akshit Tyagi

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском South Sudan’s fragile peace deal is unravelling as political tensions flare and violence resurfaces. More than a broken trust is the cause, and the nation’s leaders will need to be pressured into peace.  South Sudan is once again on the edge of a civil war. In March 2025, Vice President Riek Machar was placed under house arrest by President Salva Kiir’s government. His party, the SPLM-IO, quickly declared that the 2018 peace deal, the agreement that ended five years of brutal conflict, had effectively collapsed. The United Nations has warned that the situation looks dangerously similar to the lead-up to South Sudan’s past civil wars. Armed clashes between rival groups have already broken out. Kenya sent former Prime Minister Raila Odinga to mediate the crisis, but so far, tensions remain high. South Sudan has been here before. After gaining independence from Sudan in 2011, it quickly plunged into civil war just two years later. What began as a power struggle between Kiir and Machar turned into a deadly ethnic conflict. By the time a peace deal was signed in 2018, more than 400,000 people were dead, and millions had been forced to flee their homes. The 2018 peace agreement, formally known as the Revitalized Agreement on the Resolution of the Conflict in South Sudan (R-ARCSS), was meant to end that war for good. It brought Machar back as vice president and called for national elections, the integration of armed forces, and the formation of a permanent constitution. It looked promising at first. But six years later, many of its key promises remain unfulfilled, and the country is once again on the brink. What went wrong with the 2018 deal? The biggest problem with the 2018 deal is that it focused too much on power-sharing between Kiir and Machar, and not enough on the root causes of the conflict. It brought the two rivals back into government but did little to heal the ethnic divisions or build trust between their followers. Most importantly, it failed to fully integrate their armed forces. Instead of one national army, South Sudan still has multiple rival groups loyal to different leaders. This failure made the peace fragile from the start. Without a unified army or a functioning justice system, violence could return at any moment, and now it has. The deal also suffered from constant delays. Elections that were supposed to happen in 2022 were pushed to 2024 and have now been delayed again to 2026. The transitional government has been slow to draft a new constitution or set up key institutions. Critics say Kiir’s government has little interest in real democratic reform. Why is the crisis escalating now? Machar’s house arrest was the breaking point. His party accuses the government of undermining the agreement, and reports suggest that fighting has already started in some areas, including Unity State and Jonglei. The UN has expressed alarm, and several foreign governments have urged South Sudan to de-escalate before the violence spreads further. The government, meanwhile, claims Machar is supporting local militias, a charge he denies. This growing distrust is making it harder to bring both sides back to the negotiating table. Kenya has stepped in to help mediate, but with little progress so far. Odinga’s visit is a positive step, but the situation on the ground remains volatile. Could this lead to another civil war? Unfortunately, yes. All the warning signs are there. Armed groups are mobilising. The central government is cracking down on political opposition. And most of the peace deal’s reforms have stalled. If full-blown war breaks out, the humanitarian consequences will be devastating. South Sudan is already struggling with hunger, flooding, and mass displacement. Millions rely on humanitarian aid, and new fighting would make it even harder for that aid to reach those in need. South Sudan’s youth, who have grown up knowing little but war, risk losing any hope for a peaceful future. Many feel abandoned by leaders who promised peace and delivered more political games. The international community played a big role in securing the 2018 peace deal. But since then, global attention has faded. While donors continue to fund humanitarian work, they’ve largely backed away from holding South Sudan’s leaders accountable for delays and violations. That needs to change. The African Union, IGAD, the UN, and Western governments still have influence, if they choose to use it. They can apply diplomatic pressure, impose sanctions, and demand real reforms. More importantly, any future deal must include voices beyond Kiir and Machar: civil society leaders, women, youth, and religious figures who understand what peace means at the community level. What does South Sudan need now? South Sudan doesn’t need another temporary fix between two politicians. It needs deep, long-term change. That means building a functioning government, creating a unified army, and setting up systems that can hold leaders accountable. The country also needs truth and reconciliation. Thousands of families are still waiting for justice, and no peace deal will hold unless those wounds are addressed. Ordinary South Sudanese citizens must be part of this process, not just political elites. At its heart, this is a story of broken trust. South Sudan’s leaders promised to end a war and build a country. Today, those promises are in ruins. But the future isn’t written yet. With the right pressure, the right leadership, and the right voices at the table, a peaceful future is still possible. This article was published under a Creative Commons Licence. For proper attribution, please refer to the original source.

Defense & Security
world map of ethiopia and bordering countries sudan kenya somalia and eritrea

Ethiopia-Somalia Tensions: Power Dynamics and Extra-Regional Actors in the Red Sea Region

by Federico Donelli

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском Signed in 2024, the Ethiopia-Somaliland Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) has reshaped regional dynamics, potentially granting Ethiopia sea access via Berbera in exchange for Somaliland’s recognition. This move challenged Somalia’s territorial integrity and prompted Mogadishu to align itself with Egypt, Eritrea, and Djibouti against Ethiopia. While the crisis reflects Ethiopia’s strategic push for a maritime presence, it also captures Somaliland’s long-standing quest for independence. In the wider Red Sea region, regional tensions are exacerbated by extra-regional actors which include the UAE, Turkey, France, and Saudi Arabia, all of which have their own interests therein. Although, external actors do not directly cause conflict, their involvement emboldens local actors and escalates rivalries. Hence, the Red Sea region has a growing importance in contemporary global geopolitics. Ethiopia-Somaliland MoU: Geopolitical Ambitions and the Quest for Recognition The year 2024 began with the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding between Ethiopia and Somaliland. The latter, formerly British Somaliland, was part of Somalia, from which it unilaterally seceded after Siad Barre’s regime collapsed in 1991. Since then, Somaliland has been self-ruled and is considered a de facto state. However, the Hargheisa authority does not enjoy any international legal recognition. If implemented, the agreement with Addis Ababa would give Somaliland its first significant de jure recognition. In return, the Hargheisa authorities would grant Ethiopia access to the sea through the port of Berbera and the concession of a coastal area for military use. The situation revolves around three key regional players: Ethiopia, Somalia, and Somaliland. Each of these actors has engaged in activities driven by its own objectives and strategic priorities. Ethiopia’s decision is influenced by several practical economic and strategic factors. Following the Eritrean War in the early 1990s, Ethiopia lost its Red Sea ports and became the world’s most populous landlocked country. Since 1998, Djibouti’s ports have handled 95 per cent of trade to and from Addis Ababa. Sea access through Djibouti costs Ethiopia between $1.5 and $2 billion annually which Ethiopia’s rulers, since 2019, begun to express more strongly that they consider this spending excessive and unsustainable in the medium to long term. To reduce Addis Ababa’s dependence on Djiboutian ports, the government of Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed believes it is necessary to find a viable alternative. Before the MoU, Ethiopia had considered several alternatives to Djibouti, including Eritrea, Somalia, and Kenya. The idea of developing an economic and trade corridor between Addis Ababa and the port of Berbera on the Gulf of Aden began to take shape in the final months of 2023. Somaliland’s main port has been operated by the Emirati company – DP World since 2015, which has developed its infrastructure and increased its cargo transit capacity. Ethiopia estimates that it can divert between 12 and 15 per cent of the total volume passing through Djibouti’s ports to Berbera and, in the long term, connect its industrial zones to several trade corridors. From a strategic point of view, Ethiopian assessments are influenced by Addis Ababa’s national role conception. Ethiopia sees itself as the leading regional power because of its history and traditional economic and political weight in the region. Consequently, Ethiopian elites perceive the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden as their natural strategic spheres. For this reason, the Ethiopian Institute of Foreign Affairs recently announced the ‘Grand Strategy of the Two Waters.’ The new agenda aims to expand the sphere of national interest and action eastwards towards the sea, unlike in the past when the focus of Ethiopia’s strategic projection was mainly on the Nile Basin. Indeed, Ethiopia’s ambitions as a regional power are challenged by its lack of a maritime gateway. For Addis Ababa, having a presence in the Red Sea would provide two strategic benefits: first, it would strengthen its standing in the region; second, it would bolster Ethiopia’s international role by enhancing cooperation in multilateral anti-piracy efforts. In short, the Ethiopian government sees maritime projection as a strategic resource and a gateway to the geopolitics of the coming decades, which will focus on Asia and the Indo-Pacific in particular. Therefore, one of the key clauses of the MoU allows Ethiopia to establish a military outpost in Lughaya, a town overlooking the Gulf of Aden, for at least fifty years. According to Ethiopian plans, the naval base will become the headquarters of the nascent Ethiopian navy. For Somaliland, the MoU represents a further step on the difficult path to independence. In the past year, the issue of Somaliland’s independence has gained renewed attention and relevance. This pursuit of self-determination is deeply rooted in a historical context that stretches back to the 19th century, predating the regime of Siad Barre. The Somalilanders’ path began during a pivotal time when the British Empire established agreements with various Somali clans, particularly the Gadabuursi, Issa, and Habr Awal. In 1884, the region was officially designated as British Somaliland, a protectorate that enjoyed a measure of autonomy and governance, distinguishing it from the colonial dominance exerted by Italian authorities in southern Somalia. Following the unification of Somaliland with the Trust Territory of Somalia in 1960, the social, economic, and political conditions of the people of Somaliland began to deteriorate, leading to widespread discontent and a strong desire for independence. Over time, the Siad Barre regime cast a long shadow over Somaliland, leading to widespread discrimination and marginalisation. The political and economic machinations of the central government often neglected the aspirations of the Somaliland people, fuelling a growing sense of injustice. In this context, collective memory became a powerful cornerstone of identity, highlighting the stark contrasts between Somaliland’s struggles and Somalia’s divergent trajectories in the turbulent post-Siad Barre era. Hargheisa’s quest for independence is rooted in historical grievances and reflects the unique identities and trajectories of its people. The Somaliland narrative often draws comparisons with the current situation in the rest of Somalia. Over the past three decades, this de facto state has made significant progress towards sustainable institutional and administrative development albeit on a very limited budget. The democratisation process is also crucial to further the development of Somaliland’s independence. The recent national elections held last November demonstrated the political maturity of all parties involved. The peaceful transfer of power from the defeated government to the electoral process is a remarkable event in the region and stands out as one of the few such instances in the continent. The achievements of the institution-building process in Somaliland are even more striking when compared to the path taken by Somalia. Somalia’s Diplomatic Counterbalance and the Emergence of an Anti-Ethiopian Block  The signing of the MoU by Ethiopia and Somaliland raised concerns among regional actors, particularly Somalia. As Somaliland is formally and legally recognised as an integral part of Somalia, there were fears that Hargeisa’s claims to independence were gaining momentum. Mogadishu was particularly concerned that Ethiopia’s official recognition of Somaliland’s claims could trigger a domino effect, leading other regional and extra-regional actors to follow suit. Therefore, Somalia saw Ethiopia’s actions as a deliberate act of intimidation that threatened its territorial integrity at a sensitive time for its political future. Somalia faces several challenges, including the struggle to establish an effective institutional framework, particularly with regard to the relationship between the central government and the federal states, and also the fight against the terrorist group – al-Shabaab. In response to the MoU, the Somali executive, led by President Hassan Sheikh Mahmoud, launched an intense diplomatic campaign to prevent its implementation and recognition by the international community. Somalia has sought support from regional organisations such as the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD), the East African Community (EAC), and the African Union (AU). In doing so, Somalia has consolidated alliances with both regional and extra-regional actors. As a result, the dynamics between these three actors – Somalia, Ethiopia, and Somaliland have become increasingly intertwined. Mogadishu’s natural anti-Ethiopian partners are two of Addis Ababa’s historical rivals: Eritrea and Egypt. Compared to 2018, the year of normalisation between Ethiopia and Eritrea, the situation today is very different. The positions of Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki and Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed quickly diverged following the signing of the Pretoria Agreement (2022), which ended the two-year conflict in Tigray. Eritrea, which had supported the Ethiopian military campaign, refused to negotiate with the Tigrayan authorities, represented by the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (TPLF). The distance between the two leaders has widened as Ethiopia’s claims to the sea have grown. Indeed, Asmara fears that Ethiopia is eyeing its ports, a fear fuelled by the rhetoric of Abiy and other Ethiopian leaders. Conversely, Isaias has used his leadership and many regional relationships to foster a kind of ‘anti-Ethiopian coalition’. One significant change has been Egypt’s increasing involvement in the region. Mogadishu’s rapprochement with Cairo was formalised in August 2024 with the signing of a defence agreement. This agreement centres on Egypt’s intention to support Somalia’s request for the withdrawal of all Ethiopian troops currently stationed in Somalia as part of the African Union peacekeeping mission (formerly known as Atmis, replaced by the Aussom mission on 1 January 2025). The strengthening of Somali-Egyptian relations, supported by Asmara and involving Djibouti through a security cooperation agreement, has consolidated an anti-Ethiopian bloc. This alignment represents a significant shift in the regional balance and illustrates Egypt’s changing Africa policy. Since 2020, Egypt has reaffirmed the importance of its southern relations. President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi has gradually reassessed Egypt’s African relations and promoted a geopolitical strategy that emphasises a north-south axis, rather than the east-west axis that dominated in previous decades. The Red Sea region, including the Nile Basin, is now a key part of this new strategic framework, which is shaped by Egypt’s historical rivalry with Ethiopia. Between the two states, the balance on the Nile has changed. The construction of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) has given Ethiopia a strategic advantage over Egypt. Egypt therefore had to adapt its approach to the ongoing dynamics by deciding to expand the areas of contention toward the sea. Tensions between Ethiopia and Somalia therefore provided an opportunity to increase Egypt’s footprint in the region. Regional Tensions and Extra-regional Actors in the Red Sea The MoU signed by Ethiopia and Somaliland has opened a new phase in tensions. The focus of regional tensions is shifting to the coastal areas, particularly the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden, which are marked by a number of security and defence agreements. Common strategic interests underpin the alignment of the anti-Ethiopian bloc, which includes Somalia, Djibouti, Eritrea, and Egypt. Somalia views any legal recognition of Somaliland’s independence as an existential threat. For Djibouti, the economic damage from increased trade through Berbera is marginal but potentially devastating to its fragile internal balance of power. Eritrea perceives Ethiopia as an ongoing threat, and the current Ethiopian government is seen by Asmara as highly unreliable, raising concerns about a potential escalation of violence along their shared borders. Finally, for Egypt, the assessment of its regional position is of particular importance. Traditionally, Cairo has regarded the waters between Suez and Aden as its ‘lake’. As a result, like Addis Ababa, it regards the entire region as part of its sphere of influence. The United Arab Emirates (UAE) and Turkey are among the most active players in the region. The UAE has supported the MoU to capitalise on investments in Berbera and Addis Ababa. Turkey, on the other hand, has taken a more balanced approach, thanks to its strong political and commercial ties with Ethiopia and Somalia. For Ankara, however, Somalia’s integrity must not be questioned. Following their rapprochement in 2021, the UAE and Turkey have maintained good relations. Despite their different strategies and some disagreements, both nations share a common interest in maintaining a central role in regional affairs. Other extra-regional players, such as France and Saudi Arabia, are also active in the background. France supports the MoU as part of its ongoing efforts to increase its presence in East Africa, which began at the same time as its withdrawal from the Sahel region. Its base in Djibouti is destined to become more central to French policy as French military presence in West Africa is being reduced. French officials see this increased influence in regional affairs as essential to France’s future interests in the Indo-Pacific region. Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia, whose geopolitical focus is shifting from the Gulf to the Red Sea, opposes the implementation of the agreement between Ethiopia and Somaliland. It seeks to counter regional projects promoted by the UAE. This might be as a result of the long-standing political rift between the two Gulf monarchies. Extra-regional actors do not directly cause an increase in regional conflicts. Rather, it is local actors who, feeling empowered by their connections with these extra-regional partners, perceive their environment as more permissive and gain the confidence to take assertive actions that they may not have considered before. Understanding these dynamics sheds light on why Ethiopia and Somaliland decided to sign the MoU at this historic moment. This perspective also helps to explain other regional crises, such as the civil war in Sudan and the conflict in Tigray. The different transformations in the international system have created a context in which local actors can seek multiple forms of external support. Increased alignment and overlap between local and regional rivalries has increased the willingness of actors to take assertive action, leading to a general increase in inter- and intra-state tensions. However, the flexible nature of alliances can also mitigate the risk of the trickle-down effect that often accompanies such alliances. This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC 4.0): https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/