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Abstract Canada has long maintained that international law must be central to resolution of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. But has there been appropriate follow-through when international law has been violated? This policy brief examines Canada's positions and, importantly, actions, in the face of violations of international law by the Israeli government during its military offensive on Gaza following the 7 October 2023 attacks in southern Israel by Hamas and other armed Palestinian groups. The analysis makes it clear that Canada has rarely condemned those violations, let alone imposed sanctions or other consequences for them.Keywordshuman rights, Israel, Palestine, Gaza, Canada, Canadian foreign policy, international law, International Court of Justice, International Criminal Court, international humanitarian law Professed respect for international law “Israel has a right under international law to take the necessary measures, in accordance with human rights and international humanitarian law, to protect the security of its citizens from attacks by terrorist groups.” In many respects, this statement—taken from the section detailing “Support for Israel and its Security” in Global Affairs Canada's overview of “Canadian policy on key issues in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict”1—captures what is right in principle, but so terribly wrong in practice, when it comes to Canada's foreign policy regarding Israel and Palestine. As it should be, international law is lifted up and given a spotlight. Canada's position is grounded in an expectation that international human rights and international humanitarian law will be respected. But what the statement does not convey is that there is rarely an appropriate response by the Canadian government when it becomes clear that actions taken by Israel—particularly the Israel Defense Forces—to protect the security of its citizens consistently amount to grave, widespread, and systematic violations of both international human rights and international humanitarian law. International law and human rights also feature prominently in other key elements of Canada's policy regarding the conflict. Canada recognizes the “Palestinian right to self-determination.” The rights of Palestinian refugees are to be respected, “in accordance with international law.” Canada notes that the “Fourth Geneva Convention applies in the occupied territories” and consequently that Israeli settlements are in violation of that convention, as is the Israeli government's construction of the barrier inside the West Bank and East Jerusalem. Failure to uphold international law This is all good, in principle. But how does Canada react to the fact that the Palestinian right to self-determination and the rights of Palestinian refugees have undeniably been abrogated for decades? And what is Canada's response to the defiant expansion of the Geneva Convention–violating settlements throughout the West Bank and East Jerusalem? Rather than mount a robust defence (or any defence, for that matter) of the international legal principles at stake, Canada's policy more or less goes quiet at this point. There is no condemnation of the breaches of international law, and consideration of the possible implications under Canadian law is reluctant at best, with a bare minimum of legal, trade, or other consequences for these blatantly unlawful actions. The disconnect between rhetorical flourishes of support for the professed importance of international law but the failure and unwillingness to champion it when it is breached has, unfortunately but perhaps not surprisingly, dominated the key aspects of Canada's response to Israel's unrelenting assault on Gaza following the brutal attacks launched by Hamas and other armed Palestinian groups in southern Israel on 7 October 2023. It was evident from the outset. October 7th, Gaza, and Canada's empty resort to international law Reacting to the horror of the October 7th attack, Canada, like the United States, Australia, New Zealand, and many of its allies in Western Europe, almost immediately referenced the fact that Israel had a right to defend itself. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau's first statement, on October 8th, noted that Canada “reaffirm[ed] its support for Israel's right to defend itself.”2 But what, as a matter of international law, did that actually mean? The question as to whether Israel as a nation has the right to defend itself from attack is dictated by Article 51 of the United Nations (UN) Charter, International Court of Justice (ICJ) jurisprudence, and other public international law sources. As Marko Milanovic, professor of public international law at the University of Reading School of Law notes, “[M]any who think there is a single, clearly correct answer to the question whether Israel has a right to self-defence do so simply because the answer fits their prior narratives and worldviews.” Milanovic lays out the complexity and uncertainty in considerable detail and concludes that “the jus ad bellum is indeterminate on the question of whether non-state actors, whose conduct is not attributable to a state, can commit armed attacks in the sense of Article 51 of the Charter.”3 With the threshold question of whether an attack carried out by an armed group such as Hamas constitutes an armed attack of the nature that would trigger application of Article 51 being at best indeterminate, so too is the question as to whether a right of self-defence arises. As such, the Canadian government's simple assertion, without any further expansion or discussion, is clearly not without debate. Offering no qualification or explanation alongside that assertion, on a matter that is unsettled and complex within international law, is problematic. Article 51 states: “Nothing in the present Charter shall impair the inherent right of individual or collective self-defence if an armed attack occurs against a Member of the United Nations[.]”4 What emerges from a review of applicable international law, however, are differing views as to whether, and to what extent, a nation's right under Article 51 to resort to armed force in response to an attack—in other words, to go to war as a means of self-defence—arises when the attack is carried out by another state, not when the perpetrator is a non-state actor or armed group such as Hamas or the other Palestinian armed groups responsible for the October 7th attacks, operating within territory that is controlled by the state concerned. That is reflected in the conclusion of the ICJ in its 2004 Advisory Opinion, Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory: Article 51 of the Charter thus recognizes the existence of an inherent right of self-defence in the case of armed attack by one State against another State. However, Israel does not claim that the attacks against it are imputable to a foreign State. The Court also notes that Israel exercises control in the Occupied Palestinian Territory and that, as Israel itself states, the threat which it regards as justifying the construction of the wall originates within, and not outside, that territory. The situation is thus different from that contemplated by Security Council resolutions 1368 (2001) and 1373 (200 l), and therefore Israel could not in any event invoke those resolutions in support of its claim to be exercising a right of self-defence. Consequently, the Court concludes that Article 51 of the Charter has no relevance in this case.5 Having determined that Article 51 was not relevant, the Court also went on to consider whether Israel could more broadly rely on the customary international legal principle of a “state of necessity” to justify construction of the wall. The Court agreed that Israel had “the right, and indeed the duty, to respond in order to protect the life of its citizens” but noted that “measures taken are bound nonetheless to remain in conformity with applicable international law.”6 This is essentially where Canada's stated policy lands as well. For example, the now former prime minister's October 8th statement, referenced above, goes on to qualify that Israel's right to defend itself must be exercised “in accordance with international law.” This, in turn, echoes the numerous references to the need to respect international law noted above, which are scattered throughout Canada's overall Israel/Palestine policy—established long before October 7th. The phrase “in accordance with international law” has been repeated consistently in written statements, social media posts, and press comments by the prime minister,7 the minister of foreign affairs,8 and other ministers9 at various stages of the current conflict. But we do not find any further explanation as to what that entails-for instance, that regardless of whether or not a right of self-defence to an armed attack exists in these circumstances and legally justifies Israel launching a war against Hamas, fundamental principles from international humanitarian law, such as the requirements of necessity and proportionality, nevertheless always apply. That failure to have clearly acknowledged the applicable international humanitarian law framework is particularly problematic, because the evidence that those legal obligations have been systematically and gravely violated, to the extent of undeniably constituting war crimes, has become incontrovertible. Yet as Israel's full-scale assault on Gaza was launched and expanded—and as reports from the UN,10 humanitarian agencies,11 international12 and national13 human rights organizations, local human rights monitors,14and journalists15 made it clear that massive human rights violations and breaches of international humanitarian law were occurring—nothing more was said. Canada did not move from stating that international law must be respected to stating the obvious—that it was well-established that this was not happening. The Canadian government refused to criticize Israel for breaches of international law, let alone press for accountability and consequences for the violations. Canada and the ICJ's Genocide Convention case Nowhere has this been more apparent, or more consequential, than in Canada's response to announcements and rulings from the two international courts that have a key role in upholding international law in situations such as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict: the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court (ICC). Canada is often regarded as one of the world's most reliable champions of international courts. As such, its failure to show the expected support at this time has been widely noted with concern. The ICJ is actively engaged with the conflict through two separate cases. On 29 December 2023 South Africa launched proceedings16 against Israel, alleging violations of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Genocide Convention) with respect to Israel's actions in Gaza. Given the gravity and urgency of the situation on the ground in Gaza, South Africa has applied to the Court on four separate occasions,17 seeking orders for interim provisional measures while the case proceeds. The Court consequently indicated a range of provisional measures in various orders18 issued between January and May 2024. The Court's provisional measures have been grounded in a finding that “at least some of the rights claimed by South Africa under the Genocide Convention and for which it was seeking protection were plausible, namely the right of the Palestinians in Gaza to be protected from acts of genocide and related prohibited acts mentioned in Article III, and the right of South Africa to seek Israel's compliance with the latter's obligations under that Convention.”19 The legal semantics of that ruling are nuanced, but nonetheless significant and with very real consequences. The Court has not reached any conclusion as to whether genocide has occurred in Gaza—or even whether it has possibly or potentially occurred—nor would it be expected to at this early stage of the case. But it is a clear statement that the Court considers the rights protected under the Genocide Convention to be plausibly pertinent to Israel's military operations in Gaza. Drawing on the Court's conclusion, many commentators,20 including legal experts and human rights organizations, now regularly reference plausible, potential, or prima facie genocide in Gaza. The Court's final ruling on whether Israel has in fact breached its obligations under the Genocide Convention is still some way off—likely late 2025, at the earliest. Among the provisional measures indicated by the Court to date are orders that Israel prevent the commission of all acts of genocide, prevent and punish incitement to genocide, enact immediate and effective measures to enable the provision of urgently needed basic services and humanitarian assistance in Gaza, and immediately halt its military offensive and any other action in Rafah that may inflict on Palestinians in Gaza conditions of life that could bring about their physical destruction as a group, in whole or in part. Canada's response to the ICJ rulings has been, at worst, tepid and incoherent, and at best, only supportive when consistent with Canada's already established positions. Following the first provisional measures indicated by the Court in January, Canada's foreign affairs minister, Mélanie Joly, issued a statement expressing support for the ICJ's “critical role … in upholding the international rules-based order,” but stressed that this support did “not mean that [Canada accepted] the premise of the case brought by South Africa.”21 There was not a word from the Canadian government calling on Israel to comply with the Court's order, which is what would have been expected from a self-declared champion of the Court. The response four months later to the Court's provisional measures concerning Rafah was stronger. Prime Minister Trudeau reiterated what was by then Canada's established position, calling for “no more military operations in Rafah by Israel, and certainly no escalation of military operations in Rafah.” The prime minister also underscored that the “ICJ's proposals are binding and we expect everyone to follow them as a matter of international law.”22 However, as is well established, Israel did not comply with the Court's ruling with respect to Rafah, and Canada has issued no express condemnation, let alone imposed any consequences, for that disregard of international law. Canada and the ICJ's advisory opinion The second ICJ case dealing with Israel-Palestine is an advisory opinion requested in January 2023,23 following a December 2022 UN General Assembly resolution seeking the Court's views on the legal consequences of Israeli practices in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (OPT), including East Jerusalem. The Court's Advisory Opinion24 was issued on 19 July 2024. The Court was unequivocal in concluding that “the sustained abuse by Israel of its position as an occupying Power, through annexation and an assertion of permanent control over the Occupied Palestinian Territory and continued frustration of the right of the Palestinian people to self-determination, violates fundamental principles of international law and renders Israel's presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory unlawful.”25 Notably, the ICJ specifically addresses the question of the legal consequences of Israel's unlawful presence in the OPT for third states, which would obviously include Canada, and concludes that “all States are under an obligation not to recognize as legal the situation arising from the unlawful presence of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. They are also under an obligation not to render aid or assistance in maintaining the situation created by Israel's illegal presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory.”26 This leads to a consideration of Canada's stance before and after the ICJ Advisory Opinion. Canada filed a written submission27 seven months in advance of the hearing, arguing that the Court should use its discretion and decline the General Assembly's request to issue an advisory opinion. Canada also initially requested an opportunity to make oral submissions during the hearing, and was one of fifty-four states and multilateral organizations slated to do so.28 However, as the hearing got underway on 19 February 2024, Canada withdrew its request to make an oral presentation29 and chose to rely solely on the earlier written submission—namely, that the Court should decline to issue an advisory opinion. The explanation offered for withdrawing from the oral hearing was that the government's position had not changed from the time of making its written submission. Apparently, that position was unchanged even though external circumstances had changed dramatically. After all, Canada's position had been formulated seven months earlier—before the October 7th attack in Israel, the subsequent Israeli offensive in Gaza, and the 26 January 2024 ICJ ruling on provisional measures in the case brought by South Africa under the Genocide Convention. Canada's response after the Advisory Opinion was issued was certainly lacking. The immediate reaction was limited to a statement that the government had “taken note” of the Advisory Opinion, stressing that it was “nonbinding.”30 Two weeks later, a passing reference to the Advisory Opinion appeared in a joint statement from Prime Minister Trudeau and the prime ministers of Australia and New Zealand reiterating their call for a ceasefire and expressing concern about the mounting hostilities between Israel and Hezbollah. The statement generically called on Israel “to respond substantively to the ICJ's advisory opinion,”31 but offered no examples as to what that substantive response should entail. Canada's response to the advisory opinion A resolution came before the UN General Assembly on 18 September 2024, following up on the ICJ Advisory Opinion, which had, after all. initially been sought by the General Assembly. Among other provisions, the resolution “[w]elcomes the Advisory opinion … [and] [d]emands that Israel comply without delay with all its legal obligations under international law, including as stipulated by the International Court of Justice.”32 The resolution passed with 124 votes in favour, 14 against, and 43 abstentions.33 Canada was one of the countries to abstain. Many of Canada's close allies, such as France, Ireland, Norway, and New Zealand, supported the resolution, while many others, including Australia, Germany, the Netherlands, and the United Kingdom, joined Canada in abstaining. Israel and the United States were among the fourteen states that opposed the resolution. In a statement, the government explained its decision to abstain rather than support the resolution, citing that it did not reference the “need to end terrorism, for which Israel has serious and legitimate security concerns” and that it contained “language that aligns with Boycott Divestment Sanctions, which Canada firmly opposes.”34 To a certain extent, the decision to abstain rather than oppose (which has tended to be Canada's voting record with UN General Assembly resolutions related to Israel/Palestine)35 the resolution may be seen as a small step forward. It was, however, sharply criticized by Canadian groups supportive of Israel.36 There has yet to be any acknowledgement of the steps that Canada is obliged to take—and therefore that it intends to take—in response to the ICJ's identification of a responsibility incumbent on third states not to “render aid or assistance in maintaining the situation created by Israel's illegal presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory.” What implications might there be, for instance, for Canadian trade policy, the charitable status of Canadian organizations, the involvement of Canadians in real estate deals in the OPT, or the possibility that the actions of some Canadians with respect to settlements in the OPT might even be tantamount to criminal liability for war crimes? Canada designated Hamas a “terrorist entity” under Canadian law in 2002.37 Numerous other Palestinian armed groups, such as Palestinian Islamic Jihad and the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, have similarly been designated. Since the October 7th attack, there have been four rounds of sanctions, targeting thirty-nine individuals, including Hamas leadership.38 Canada has been slower to take action against individuals and groups responsible for violence and human rights abuses against Palestinians. After considerable pressure, in May, June, and September of 2024, the government imposed three rounds of sanctions against a total of fifteen individuals and seven groups deemed responsible for “extremist settler violence against Palestinian civilians in the West Bank.”39 These are the first ever sanctions of that nature. However, no sanctions have been imposed against Israeli political leaders who have been widely condemned for supporting, facilitating, and inciting that extremist settler violence—notably Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and Minister of Security Itamar Ben-Gvir.40 There have been repeated calls for Canada to impose a comprehensive arms embargo on any weapons, including parts and components, transferred either directly to Israel or indirectly through third countries, most notably the United States. While the government announced in January that no new export permits would be authorized, and later cancelled thirty existing permits, the ban is still far from comprehensive.41 For instance, Canadian-made parts are sold to companies in the United States, where they are used in the assembly of F-35 fighter jets destined for Israel. The Canadian Commercial Corporation, a Canadian Crown Corporation acting on behalf of General Dynamics Ordnance and Tactical Systems—Canada, also remains under contract to provide the US Department of Defense with artillery propellants that will be supplied to Israel.42 Reports indicate that C$95 million worth of military goods could be exported from Canada to Israel through to the end of 2025.43 It is also worth noting that the Canada–Israel Free Trade Agreement, which came into force in 1997 and was updated in 2019, extends its coverage to the “territory where [Israel's] customs laws are applied.”44 This means the trade deal includes Israeli settlements in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, which Canada considers to be unlawful. There was a concerted push by legal experts and human rights groups to exclude those unlawful settlements45—which, after all, constitute war crimes under international law—from the gamut of the trade deal when it was updated, but the government refused to make that change. Canada and the International Criminal Court Meanwhile, an announcement from Karim Khan, the chief prosecutor of the ICC, on 29 May 2024, raised further concerns about Canadian double standards regarding international law and institutions when it comes to Israel. Khan indicated that, as part of an ongoing investigation launched over three years ago, he was seeking arrest warrants for five key Israeli and Hamas leaders, including Israel's prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, and its then minister of defence, Yoav Gallant, on war crimes and crimes against humanity charges in connection with the October 7th attacks in southern Israel and the aftermath in Gaza.46 Canada, famously, was an ardent champion of the establishment of the ICC in 1998.47 Canada's foreign affairs minister at the time, Lloyd Axworthy, played a key leadership role, and a Canadian, Philippe Kirsch, served as the first ICC president. However, rather than express support and offer a commitment to cooperate with Khan and the Court as the case proceeds, Prime Minister Trudeau, Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland, and Foreign Affairs Minister Joly all pilloried the prosecutor for having sought the arrest warrants against Netanyahu and Gallant, decrying what they called an unhelpful “equivalence” between Hamas and the Israeli government.48 The government's position was criticized in an open letter to the prime minister from over 375 Canadian law professors, lawyers, legal scholars, academics, civil society, faith and labour movement leaders, and former diplomats and parliamentarians, including Axworthy and two former ambassadors to the United Nations, Allan Rock and Rosemary McCarney. The letter notes: The principles of equal treatment and access to justice in the field of international criminal justice do not, by any measure, amount to an equivalence of the nature you have decried. No country, no armed group, no corporation and no individual can be allowed to stand above or apart from the law. Nothing undermines justice more—at a national or international level—than double standards and exceptionalism. This commitment must be at the core of Canada's ICC position and foreign policy.49 Canada was among ninety-three states to subsequently endorse a joint statement on 14 June 2024 reaffirming that ICC officials and staff must be able to carry out their work “without intimidation.”50 While the statement does not explicitly mention the Israel/Palestine case, it is widely understood to be a response to threats that had been levelled at the Court by supporters of Israel, including the US House of Representatives.51 Beyond that, Canada's position regarding the application for the arrest warrants remained the same. On 21 November 2024, the ICC issued arrest warrants for Netanyahu, Gallant, and Mohammed Diab Ibrahim Al-Masri, more commonly known as Deif, commander-in-chief of the military wing of the Islamic Resistance Movement Hamas (known as the Al-Qassam Brigades). Warrants had initially been sought as well for Yahya Sinwar, then head of Hamas in the Gaza Strip, and Ismail Haniyeh, former head of the Hamas political bureau, but those applications were later withdrawn following evidence confirming their deaths.52 The arrest warrant issued for Deif was cancelled on 26 February 2025 after his death was also confirmed.53 In reaction to the news of the warrants against Netanyahu and Gallant being issued, Prime Minister Trudeau stated that Canada “will abide by all the regulations and rulings of the international courts.”54 Minister Joly, while declining to answer the “speculative” question about executing the Netanyahu and Gallant warrants if circumstances arose, confirmed that Canada must “abide by its treaty obligations.”55 While there is no explicit commitment to execute the warrants, the generic affirmations that Canada will abide by all rulings of the international courts, and by its treaty obligations, point in that direction. It is not as clear a statement of support as was made by many other governments, but at least it moves away from criticizing the prosecutor. Disregarding international law in Israel/Palestine weakens it everywhere And in the current volatile global context, with the United States, Russia, and China now regularly and flagrantly violating international law and disregarding—often contemptuously—international courts and human rights bodies, the need to vigorously and scrupulously reinforce international law has become imperative. The bottom line is that it is not enough, and is, in fact, dangerous hypocrisy, for the Canadian government to laud the important role of international law and international legal institutions in resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict if those legal standards and bodies are ignored, abandoned, or, at best, given lukewarm support by Canada when breached or disrespected. It is appropriate and necessary for international law to be at the heart of Canada's foreign policy with respect to the conflict. But that requires demonstrating, with decisive words and concrete measures, both internationally and nationally, that Canada means what it says in standing up for the rules-based international order that it has helped to shape since the 1940s. To do otherwise weakens the international legal framework at a time when it needs to be stronger than ever. Those consequences reverberate far beyond Israel and Palestine alone. Declaration of conflicting interestsThe author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.Notes1. Global Affairs Canada (GAC), “Canadian policy on key issues in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict,” https://www.international.gc.ca/world-monde/international_relations-relations_internationales/mena-moan/israeli-palestinian_policy-politique_israelo-palestinien.aspx?lang=eng (accessed 10 April 2025).2. Prime Minister of Canada, “Statement by the Prime Minister on attacks against Israel,” 8 October 2023, https://www.pm.gc.ca/en/news/statements/2023/10/08/statement-prime-minister-trudeau-attacks-against-israel (accessed 10 April 2025).3. Marko Milanovic, “Does Israel have the right to defend itself?,” EJIL: Talk!, 14 November 2023, https://www.ejiltalk.org/does-israel-have-the-right-to-defend-itself/ (accessed 22 April 2025).4. United Nations (UN), Charter of the United Nations, 26 June 1945, Article 51, https://www.un.org/en/about-us/un-charter/full-text (accessed 10 April 2025).5. International Court of Justice (ICJ), Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, paragraph 139, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/131/131-20040709-ADV-01-00-EN.pdf (accessed 20 April 2025).6. Ibid., paragraph 141.7. Prime Minister of Canada, “Prime Minister Justin Trudeau speaks with Israel War Cabinet member Minister Benny Gantz, 16 November 2023,” https://www.pm.gc.ca/en/news/readouts/2023/11/16/prime-minister-justin-trudeau-speaks-israel-war-cabinet-member-minister (accessed 10 April 2025).8. GAC, “Statement by Minister Joly on the International Court of Justice's decision on South Africa's request for provisional measures in its case against Israel,” 26 January 2024, https://www.canada.ca/en/global-affairs/news/2024/01/statement-by-minister-joly-on-the-international-court-of-justices-decision-on-south-africas-request-for-provisional-measures-in-its-case-against-is.html (accessed 10 April 2025).9. Bill Blair (@BillBlair), “Canada continues to support Israel's right to defend itself in accordance with international law, following the brutal terror attack by Hamas on October 7. Hamas must immediately release those being held hostage,” X, 4 November 2023, https://x.com/BillBlair/status/1720983221398069565 (accessed 10 April 2025).10. UN Human Rights Council, The Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and Israel, https://www.ohchr.org/en/hr-bodies/hrc/co-israel/index (accessed 10 April 2025).11. International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), “ICRC president tells Gaza forum: civilians must be protected, hostages must be released unharmed,” 9 November 2023, https://www.icrc.org/en/document/icrc-president-tells-paris-conference-gaza-immediate-imperative-is-to-save-lives (accessed 10 April 2025).12. Amnesty International, “Damning evidence of war crimes as Israeli attacks wipe out entire families in Gaza,” 20 October 2023, https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2023/10/damning-evidence-of-war-crimes-as-israeli-attacks-wipe-out-entire-families-in-gaza/ (accessed 10 April 2025).13. B’Tselem—The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories, “Manufacturing famine: Israel is committing the war crime of starvation in the Gaza Strip,” April 2024, https://www.btselem.org/publications/202404_manufacturing_famine (accessed 10 April 2025).14. Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor, “About 10 percent of the Gaza Strip's population killed, injured, or missing due to the Israeli genocide,” 25 July 2024, https://euromedmonitor.org/en/article/6420/About-10-percent-of-the-Gaza-Strip%E2%80%99s-population-killed,-injured,-or-missing-due-to-the-Israeli-genocide (accessed 10 April 2025).15. Bethan McKernan et al., “Palestinian prisoners describe systemic abuse in Israel's jails,” The Guardian, 5 August 2024, https://www.theguardian.com/world/article/2024/aug/05/palestinian-prisoners-describe-widespread-abuse-in-israels-jails (accessed 10 April 2025).16. ICJ, Application Instituting Proceedings Containing a Request for the Indication of Provisional Measures, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel), 29 December 2023, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20231228-app-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).17. ICJ, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel) – Provisional Measures, https://www.icj-cij.org/case/192/provisional-measures (accessed 10 April 2025).18. ICJ, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel) – Orders, https://www.icj-cij.org/case/192/orders (accessed 10 April 2025).19. ICJ, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel) – Order, 24 May 2024, paragraph 32, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20240524-ord-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).20. Alexandre Skander Galand and Wim Muller, “The ICJ's findings on plausible genocide in Gaza and its implications for the International Criminal Court, Opinio Juris,” 5 April 2024, https://opiniojuris.org/2024/04/05/the-icjs-findings-on-plausible-genocide-in-gaza-and-its-implications-for-the-international-criminal-court/ (accessed 10 April 2025).21. GAC, “Statement by Minister Joly,” 26 January 2024.22. Darren Major, “Trudeau says Israel needs to follow ICJ ruling and halt operations in Rafah,” CBC News, 24 May 2024, https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/trudeau-icj-decision-rafah-1.7214231 (accessed 10 April 2025).23. ICJ, Request for Advisory Opinion pursuant to General Assembly Resolution 77/247 of 30 December 2022: Legal Consequences Arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, 17 January 2023, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20230117-REQ-01-00-EN.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).24. ICJ, Advisory Opinion, Legal Consequences Arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, 19 July 2024, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20240719-adv-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).25. Ibid., paragraph 261.26. Ibid., paragraph 279.27. ICJ, Request by the United Nations General Assembly for an Advisory Opinion on the Question of the “Legal Consequences Arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem,” Written Statement of the Government of Canada, 14 July 2023, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20230724-wri-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).28. ICJ, Legal Consequences arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem (Request for Advisory Opinion), Public hearings to be held from Monday 19 to Monday 26 February 2024, Press Release, 9 February 2024, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20240209-pre-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).29. Justice for All Canada, “Canada's absence from ICJ hearings is a blow to Palestinian justice,” 20 February 2024, https://www.justiceforallcanada.org/icj-canada-withdrawal-feb20-2024.html (accessed 10 April 2025).30. The Canadian Press, “Ottawa says it has ‘taken note’ of UN court call for end to Israeli settlements,” The Globe and Mail, 19 July 2024, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/canada/article-ottawa-says-it-has-taken-note-of-un-court-call-for-end-to-israeli/ (accessed 10 April 2025).31. Prime Minister of Canada, “Joint statement by the prime ministers of Australia, Canada and New Zealand,” 26 July 2024, https://www.pm.gc.ca/en/news/statements/2024/07/26/joint-statement-prime-ministers-australia-canada-and-new (accessed 10 April 2025).32. UN General Assembly, Resolution ES-10/24: Advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice on the legal consequences arising from Israel's policies and practices in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and from the illegality of Israel's continued presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, UN Document A/RES/ES-10/24, 9 September 2024, paragraphs 1 and 3, https://documents.un.org/doc/undoc/gen/n24/272/75/pdf/n2427275.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).33. UN, “UN General Assembly demands Israel end ‘unlawful presence’ in Occupied Palestinian Territory,” 18 September 2024, https://news.un.org/en/story/2024/09/1154496 (accessed 10 April 2025).34. 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Khan KC on the issuance of arrest warrants in the situation in the State of Palestine,” 21 November 2024, https://www.icc-cpi.int/news/statement-icc-prosecutor-karim-aa-khan-kc-issuance-arrest-warrants-situation-state-palestine (accessed 10 April 2025).53. ICC, Decision terminating proceedings against Mr Mohammed Diab Ibrahim Al Masri (Deif), 25 February 2025, https://www.icc-cpi.int/court-record/icc-01/18-417 (accessed 10 April 2025).54. Robert Fife, “Trudeau says Canada would abide by ICC arrest warrants for Netanyahu, former defence minister,” The Globe and Mail, 21 November 2024, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/politics/article-trudeau-says-canada-would-abide-by-icc-arrest-warrants-for-netanyahu/ (accessed 10 April 2025).55. CBC News, “Canada needs to follow ICC obligations, Joly says,” 21 November 2024, https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/video/9.6571268 (accessed 10 April 2025).

Days of unrest in Nepal have resulted in the ousting of a deeply unpopular government and the deaths of at least 50 people. The Gen Z-led protests – so-called due to the predominance of young Nepalese among the demonstrators – appeared to have quieted down with the appointment on Sept. 12, 2025, of a new interim leader and early elections. But the protests leave behind dozens of burned government offices, destroyed business centers and financial losses estimated in the billions of dollars. The experience has also underscored the importance of social media in Nepal, as well as the consequences of government attempts to control the flow of online information. I study the economic, social and political impacts of social media and other emerging technologies. Being based in Kathmandu, I have watched firsthand as what began as a protest over a short-lived ban on social media snowballed into something far greater, leading to the toppling of Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli. Indeed, social media has played a crucial role in this ongoing turmoil in two ways. First, the government’s decision on Sept. 4 to ban social platforms served as the immediate catalyst to the unrest. It provoked anger among a generation for whom digital spaces are central not only to communication, identity and political expression, but also to education and economic opportunities. And second, the pervasive use of these platforms primed the nation’s youth for this moment of protest. It heightened Gen Z’s awareness of the country’s entrenched social, economic and political problems. By sharing stories of corruption, privilege and inequality, social media not only informed but also galvanized Nepal’s youth, motivating collective mobilization against the country’s systemic injustice. The role of social media As with many other nations, social media is central to daily life and commerce in Nepal, a landlocked nation of 30 million people situated between two Asian giants: China and India.   As of January 2025, just short of half the population had social media accounts. This includes some 13.5 million active Facebook users, 3.6 million Instagram users, 1.5 million LinkedIn users and 466,100 X users. Indeed, social media platforms drive roughly 80% of total online traffic in the country and serve as vital channels for business and communication. Many users in Nepal depend on these platforms to run and promote their businesses. As such, the government’s decision to block 26 social media platforms sparked immediate concern among the Nepalese public. The move wasn’t completely out of the blue. Nepal’s government has long been concerned over the growth of social media platforms. In November 2023, the Ministry of Communication and Information Technology introduced new social media regulations, requiring platforms to register with the government, set up a local contact point, appoint a grievance officer and designate an oversight official. Platforms were also obliged to cooperate in criminal investigations, remove illegal content and comply with Nepali law. The Nepalese government, citing concerns over fake accounts, hate speech, disinformation and fraud, said the measures were to ensure accountability and make operators responsible for content on their platforms. Then, in January 2025, the government introduced a Social Media Bill that placed further requirements on social media platforms. Censorship concerns Regardless of their intent, these government measures sparked immediate civil liberties concerns. Critics and rights groups argued that both the ban and the bill function as tools for censorship, threatening freedom of expression, press freedom and fundamental rights. Ncell, Nepal’s second-largest telecommunications service provider, noted that shutting down all platforms at once was, in any case, technically difficult and warned that the move would severely impact business. Small business owners, who rely on social media to promote and sell their products, were especially worried with a busy festive season looming. The ban also had significant implications for education. Many students rely on social media platforms to access online classes, research materials and collaborative learning tools. More generally, the Nepalese public criticized the government’s measures disproportionate impact on ordinary users. As such, this deep reliance on social media by Nepalese society turned the ban into a flashpoint for public dissent. The rise of #NepoKids Even before the protests began on Sept. 8, the pervasive use of social media, along with exposure to content showcasing inequality and elite privilege, had heightened Gen Z’s awareness of Nepal’s entrenched social, economic and political problems. A few weeks before the protests began, the hashtags #NepoBaby and #NepoKids began trending, fueled by viral videos of politicians’ lavish lifestyles. The content drew attention to the country’s inequality by contrasting the lives of the children of the country’s elite – with designer clothing and foreign vacations – with images of Nepali migrant workers returning home in coffins from dangerous jobs abroad. The hashtag campaigns gained traction on TikTok and Reddit, leading to calls for asset investigations, anti-corruption reforms and even transferring the assets of the wealthy to public ownership. One particularly notable viral video featured the son of a provincial government minister posing in front of a tree made from boxes of luxury labels including Louis Vuitton, Cartier and Gucci. Such posts served to further fuel public outrage over perceived elite privilege. The immediacy and interactivity of social media platforms amplified the outrage, encouraging group mobilization. In this way, social media acted both as a magnifier and accelerator, linking perceived injustice to on-the-ground activism and shaping how the movement unfolded even before the Sept. 8 protests began. A deeper story of hardship and corruption Yet a social media campaign is nothing without a root cause to shine a light on. Economic insecurity and political corruption have for years left many of Nepal’s youth frustrated, setting the stage for today’s protest movement. While the overall unemployment rate in 2024 was 11%, the youth unemployment rate stood significantly higher at 21%. But these figures only scratch the surface of Nepal’s deep economic problems, which include pervasive vulnerable employment – informal and insecure work that is prone to poor conditions and pay – and limited opportunities that constrain long-term productivity. Between 2010 and 2018, fewer than half of new entrants into the workforce secured formal, stable jobs; the remainder were primarily engaged in informal or precarious work, which often lacked consistent income, benefits or legal protections. Most available positions are informal, poorly compensated and offer little stability or room for career growth. All told, children born in Nepal today face a grim economic reality. By age 18, they are likely to achieve only about 51% of their productivity potential – that is, the maximum economic output they could reach if they had full access to quality health, nutrition and education. Meanwhile, corruption is widespread. In 2024, Nepal ranked 107th out of 180 countries on Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index, with 84% of people perceiving government corruption to be a major problem. An upshot of corruption is the growing influence of Nepal’s politically connected business elite, who shape laws and regulations to benefit themselves. In the process, they secure tax breaks, inflate budgets and create monopolies that block competition. This capture of public policy by an entrenched elite stifles economic growth, crowds out genuine entrepreneurs and exacerbates inequality, while basic public services remain inadequate. Combined, these economic and political pressures created fertile ground for social mobilization. While persistent hardships helped fuel the rise of the #Nepokids movement, it was social media that gave voice to Nepali youths’ frustration. When the government attempted to silence them through a ban on social media platforms, it proved to be a step too far.

The U.S. naval strike on Venezuela reveals the return of unilateral military coercion, exposing the decline of the liberal international order. On the 3rd of September, the United States launched a naval strike off the coast of Venezuela, killing eleven individuals whom Washington had identified as drug traffickers. Concurrently, President Donald Trump also announced a $50 million bounty on President Nicolás Maduro and ordered an additional naval surge in the region, presenting the move as part of an anti-narcotics campaign. But this framing conceals a much deeper reality: this is the most dramatic demonstration yet of Washington’s return to unilateral military coercion—occurring at a time when the liberal international order lies in disarray. This attack is not an isolated episode. It represents the culmination of overlapping trends: Venezuela’s internal collapse, the erosion of multilateral constraints on U.S. power, and the resurgence of a worldview that equates might with right. Indeed, it signals that the norms that shaped international politics after 1945 now hang by a thread. A Crisis of Venezuela’s Own Making To be sure, Venezuela’s situation is largely self-inflicted. Once a showcase of Latin American prosperity, the country fell victim to its own overdependence on hydrocarbons. When oil prices plummeted during the 2010s and production faltered under severe mismanagement, economic fundamentals collapsed. Hyperinflation reached astronomical levels, and essential goods vanished. The humanitarian consequences have been catastrophic. More than seven million Venezuelans have fled since 2015, and today, Venezuela remains in a twilight zone. Neither a failed state nor a functional one, it is a petrostate in freefall, caught between great power rivalries and criminal networks. Why Force Remains a Mirage In this context, Trump’s resort to military action may seem decisive, but history warns otherwise. Regime change by force has proven to be a dangerous illusion. From Iraq in 2003 to Libya in 2011, interventions launched with promises of quick success ended in state collapse and prolonged chaos. The lesson is unequivocal: dismantling regimes is far easier than rebuilding nation-states. Venezuela is no exception. Its dense forests, rugged terrain, and porous borders provide ideal ground for guerrilla warfare. Armed groups—from remnants of Colombia’s civil war to regime-aligned militias—would thrive in an insurgency, evoking the Vietnam analogy: a technologically superior power mired in the swamps of asymmetric conflict. Beyond battlefield risks lies a structural vacuum. Venezuela’s bureaucracy has been decimated. Technocrats and civil servants have fled. The opposition, fragmented and discredited, lacks both credibility and institutional capacity. Removing Maduro without a credible plan for postwar governance would ignite civil war, deepen anarchy and require prolonged foreign occupation—likely funded by Venezuela’s oil reserves—perpetuating the resource curse under a new guise. This is precisely the nightmare outlined by analysts such as Sean Burges and Fabrício Bastos, who warned back in 2018 that intervention would “waste valuable time” while worsening institutional fragility. They emphasized that Maduro’s survival rests on elite-military pacts—disrupting these could plunge Venezuela into even deeper violence. And even if regime change were to succeed, the absence of institutions implies that reconstruction would necessitate decades of sustained external control. The Sovereignty Taboo and Regional Backlash Moreover, Latin America’s diplomatic DNA is steeped in the principle of non-intervention. This is not an abstract ideal—it reflects a collective historical memory of U.S. occupations, from early 20th-century interventions in the Caribbean to covert operations throughout the Cold War. The Organization of American States (OAS) has repeatedly rejected endorsing regime change driven from abroad, to avoid setting a precedent that could justify interference elsewhere. Even if Washington sought to project a façade of regional leadership, the reality is clear—no Latin American state possesses the logistical depth or strategic expertise to spearhead a mission of that scale. The United States would retain operational control and bear responsibility for the inevitable quagmire. The Putin Parallel and Trump’s Contradictions Talk of military intervention also lays bare a glaring hypocrisy. Washington condemned Vladimir Putin’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine as a violation of national sovereignty, yet now replicates the same logic. The rhetorical parallels are inescapable—Trump frames Venezuela as an existential “narcoterrorist” threat—chillingly similar to Putin’s February 2022 speech describing Ukraine as an artificial entity and a danger to Russian security. Both narratives dress raw power and neo-imperialism in the garb of necessity. The irony deepens with Trump and Putin’s recent meeting in Alaska. Far from signaling firmness against authoritarian revanchism, the summit leaned towards a position of accommodation toward Moscow internationally. This, as Washington resorts to aggression in its own hemisphere. Trump’s flirtation with Putin in his first term—along with his attacks on NATO and delays in supplying military aid—cruelly undermined Ukraine. Today he risks imposing a Kremlin-dictated peace on Kyiv while violently intervening in Venezuela—and possibly soon, as he has ominously hinted at in recent months, in Panama. The Great Dismantling The belligerent strikes of the 3rd of September merely exemplify Trump’s systematic dismantling of liberal internationalism. Over two terms, multilateral partnerships have been destroyed, human rights offices shuttered and governance turned into a blunt instrument of coercion. Diplomacy has given way to arbitrary deals and tariffs. Persuasion, to open force. What emerges is a world unmoored from the normative anchors of the post-1945 order—a world where sovereignty is negotiable, law is malleable, and might is right. In this sense, Venezuela may now stand as the gravestone of that old order—an era in which the United States, once its chief architect, embraces the ethos of revisionism it once claimed to oppose. The future is not anarchic but hierarchical—a system of spheres of influence ruled by brute force, transactional bargains, and fading ideals of human rights and collective security. The art of the deal? No—an age of impunity.

ABSTRACT This article discusses the legitimacy of differentiated integration in the European Union (EU). By dovetailing three sources of legitimacy, i.e. legal, social and political justification, we plait various strands of literature in an interdisciplinary, multi-facetted and systematic approach. We distinguish between the two extreme ideal types of differentiation, i.e. multi-speed Europe and Europe à la carte. In our analysis, we take normative intergovernmentalism and supranationalism by considering the legitimacy effects of differentiation for EU citizens and member states. We plead for an interdisciplinary approach by hypothesising a virtuous and a vicious circle of differentiation for further EU integration. We argue that differentiation as such does not help to solve problems due to the heterogeneity of member states` preferences but tends to postpone conflicts, thereby prompting further challenges for European integration rather than easing them.KEYWORDS:Integration, disintegration, differentiation, interdisciplinary, Europe à la carte, multi-speed Europe 1. Introduction Differentiation has been vital to European integration in the previous decades. It served to reconcile disparate preferences among member states pertaining to the deepening European integration. Initially, differentiated integration (DI) was expected to be a temporary deviation from uniform integration, prompting other states to join later. And indeed, there have been rather unlikely cases of member states eventually attempting to join the vanguard, such as the Danish entry to the European Security and Defence Policy in June 2022 in response to Russia's attack on Ukraine. Despite some cases of continuous integration, DI proved to be a persistent feature of the EU´s evolving institutional architecture (see Radunz & Riedel, Citation2024). Even though DI constitutes a decision of member states to integrate further in small groups, it raises the question of whether it can provide for appropriate solutions for numerous common challenges in the EU. Should DI become the standard procedure for finding compromises, whereas uniform solutions remain rare exceptions? Is it fair for both the vanguard and the outsiders if deepening takes place asynchronously? In short, the article addresses the question of how legitimate is DI in the EU. The bulk of literature on the democratic legitimation of the EU has long paid little attention to differentiation (Moravcsik, Citation2002, Follesdal & Hix, Citation2006, Müller, Citation2016; Craig, Citation2021; but see De Witte et al., Citation2017; Heermann & Leuffen, Citation2020) while contributions to DI have been largely conceptual (Stubb, Citation1996, Holzinger & Schimmelfennig, Citation2015, Klose et al., Citation2023) or explanative (Lavenex & Krizic, Citation2022; Schimmelfennig et al., Citation2023a, Citation2023b Schimmelfennig & Thomas, Citation2020;). We do not contribute to this literature but seek to dovetail different existing strands of research by proposing a systematic approach to the legitimacy of DI in the European Union. We do not present primary sources but take stock of existing studies and develop a multifaceted heuristic to approach the phenomenon of DI legitimacy. Our approach complements existing analyses of DI by explicitly integrating legal, social and political dimensions in a single interdisciplinary framework. When studying legitimacy, we take an interdisciplinary perspective by distinguishing between legal, social and political sources to justify DI. In conclusion, we plead for more research into their interplay.Footnote1 We proceed as follows. First, we define DI and derive from a plethora of conceptions the two most disparate ideal types of multi-speed Europe and Europe à la carte. Second, we discuss differentiation along its legal, social and political sources for justification. Finally, we argue that differentiation needs to be vindicated based on all three sources. After all, differentiation as such does not help to solve problems due to the heterogeneity of member states preferences but tends to postpone conflicts, thereby prompting further challenges for European integration rather than easing them. 2. Models of EU differentiation In a basic understanding, European integration becomes differentiated as soon as at least one member state does not fully participate in a common policy field. The more policy fields this concerns, the more the EU is differentiated vertically, the more member states abstain from further deepening the more it is differentiated horizontally (Schimmelfennig et al., Citation2015). In the following, we focus on formal and internal DI, i.e. among EU member states, and neglect forms of external DI, which also embraces non-members (Cianciara & Szymanski, Citation2020) and informal DI (Genschel et al., Citation2023; Kovar & Katerina, Citation2022). Yet, DI remains a highly ambiguous term. Empirically, Frank Schimmelfennig and Thomas Winzen (Citation2020, p. 48) count as many as 230 cases of (primary law) differentiation in EU history. Conceptually, Alexander Stubb (Citation1996) observes more than 30 alternative labels for forms of asynchronous integration. To deal with this plethora of competing descriptions of various forms of differentiation, Stubb proposed in his seminal work three Weberian ideal types, which are by definition rarely fully matched in reality: In multi-speed Europe, a core group of member states pursues common objectives to be later caught up by other member states. In variable geometry, the EU irreversibly separates between a core and a periphery. In Europe à la carte, member states are free to pick-and-choose while pursuing a minimum number of common objectives. Katharina Holzinger and Frank (Citation2012) criticise this threefold conceptualisation as not being analytically distinct and incomplete given the lack of purely functional conceptions. They single out six dimensions, along which DI models may vary: (1) permanent v. temporary differentiation, (2) territorial v. purely functional differentiation, (3) differentiation across nation states v. multi-level differentiation, (4) differentiation within v. outside the EU treaties, (5) decision-making at EU v. regime level and (6) only for member states v. also for non-member states. They then assign ten models to these different categories. Although we acknowledge this categorisation is much more nuanced and consistent than Stubb’s ideal types, we will nonetheless restrict our discussion of the legitimacy of DI to the most extreme models, i.e. multi-speed Europe and Europe à la carte. First, they are associated with the most extreme finalité conceptions. Second, these two models differ with regard to four out of six categories (1, 4, 5 and 6) as proposed by Holzinger and Schimmelfennig. Third, they both appear to resonate well among political actors, as we show in a German-Polish case study (Mehlhausen et al., Citation2024). Multi-speed Europe: In this model, all member states must commit to common goals of further integration, which every may accomplish at individual speeds. Asynchronous integration would be merely temporary since every state is expected to catch up eventually. Due to its flexibility, this mode of constitutional transformation is likely to overcome deadlocks and propel further integration. It is why decisions would still be reached by the community method based on EU treaties and would apply to the entire EU, at least prospectively. Prime examples of multi-speed Europe would be the pre-ins in the European Monetary Union: All member states, which accessed the EU in 2004 and 2007 committed to introducing the Euro as soon as they meet the accession criteria. Europe à la Carte: In such an approach, any member state is entirely free to decide to cooperate with other member states more closely in selected policy fields. Given the heterogeneity of preferences among EU member states, such a pick-and-choose approach likely result in numerous islands of integration and, most likely, set free disintegrative dynamics. Due to membership incongruence across policy fields, supranational bodies are no longer representative. It fosters intergovernmental decision-making in coalitions of the willing within or beyond EU treaties. A prime example in the European Monetary Union is Danish opt-outs combined with prospective opt-ins at a later moment. 3. Legitimacy of differentiation integration Legitimacy is at the core of any political rule. The more legitimate a political order, the higher its efficacy and the lower its control and compliance costs, since citizens voluntarily follow collectively binding decisions. In short, legitimacy is the precondition of both efficient and liberal governance (Scharpf, Citation2004, p. 5). Many conceptions exist as to what legitimacy means. To take account of the multifaceted nature of this pivotal term, we propose to distinguish three sources of legitimacy (cp. Beetham, Citation1991, pp. 4–8; Føllesdal, Citation2004, pp. 8–9; Wimmel, Citation2009, pp. 192–194): a legal, a social and a political one. This especially resonates with Beetham’s (Citation1991, pp. 3–15) distinction of legitimacy as legal validity, moral justifiability and belief in legitimacy, but it does not overlap with it. Legal justification rests on the juridical basis applying to a specific legal entity. Political action is legally legitimate only insofar as it adheres to positively stated rules. In the context of the EU, it determines whether decisions taken by the EU institutions or member states have a legal basis in the Treaties. From this perspective, the EU law permits or does not permit a given action. Notably, an action must be clearly specified in EU primary law to be taken by EU institutions or member states, especially in the context of differentiated integration. Given the current state of EU law and CJEU case law, the doctrine of implied competence has no basis in this area. Social justification refers to the citizens’ belief in legitimacy (‘Legitimitätsglaube’) (Weber, Citation1964). The higher the support of a polity, its politics or single policies, the better political rule can be vindicated socially. In contrast to Føllesdal (Citation2004) and Wimmel (Citation2009), we restrict our analysis to the citizens´ attitudes in terms of opinion polls and neglect their compliance with political rules since we regard the cognitive level causally prior to the behavioural level. Compliance constitutes the link between citizens` attitudes and its effects on the political order. Political justification relies on shared values, the adherence to which is widely regarded as a duty for community members. The more these values resonate among community members, the more imperative their implications for political action are in following norms and principles. An unequivocal and repeated breach of such norms or principles has severe ramifications for the collective identity and its cohesion (Mehlhausen, Citation2015). In the context of European integration, the value arguably most debated has been the EU’s democratic nature. Moreover, any evaluation of legitimacy must state its legitimacy standard. Evaluating the EU`s democratic legitimacy depends on whether we compare it to international organisations, nation states or conceptions of democracy (Wimmel, Citation2009, pp. 192–194). We propose adopting two normative standards to analyse how far European integration can be justified. Normative intergovernmentalism rests on the notion of states` sovereignty being the foundation of international organisations. Its application to the European Union can be justified by the fact that member states are its constituents as ‘masters of the treaties’. Beyond the nation state, governments are seen as bearers of democratic legitimacy since public discourses, election campaigns and collective identities are predominantly shaped within nation states (Scharpf, Citation1999, Citation2004). Normative supranationalism considers citizens and, thus, popular sovereignty as the ultimate source of democratic legitimacy. European citizenship and the supremacy of EU law serve as arguments for applying such a cosmopolitan approach to the EU (Eriksen, Citation2019, pp. 163–186). In our analysis, we will adopt both standards to assess the legal, social and political justification of DI. We proceed in this order since European integration – in contrast to revolutionary constitutionalisation – has been initiated by EU treaties (legal dimension), instilling incrementally a weak European collective identity (social dimension) and eventually raising normative questions of its legitimation (political dimension). Although these three sources of legitimacy are presented separately for analytical clarity, they are interdependent in practice. 3.1. Legal sources of legitimacy When defining legal justification, we follow the concept of integration through law (ITL), according to which law is perceived both as an instrument and subject of European integration (Byberg, Citation2017; Mac Amhlaigh, Citation2012). In the first dimension, the EU legal system consists of the EU Treaties and the case-law developed by the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU). ITL propels European integration through common legal rules and fundamental principles, e.g. the principle of direct effect or the principle of primacy of EU law. In the second dimension, the emphasis is put on national legal systems subject to harmonisation coordinated by a central authority, e.g. the European Commission. We argue that if any mode of differentiation shall be justifiable within the EU legal order, it must be based on the EU primary law. Legal justification, defined as such, is inextricably intertwined with the notion of the uniformity of EU law. On the one hand, this principle envisions that the EU constitutes a new legal order, separate from international law (judgement of 5 Feb. 1963, C-26/62, EU:C:1963:1), establishing its basis for action. Accordingly, integration is governed by the EU Treaties and can only derive justification from them. On the other hand, the principle of uniformity obliges the national courts and the public administrations of member states to disapply any domestic provisions contrary to EU law (judgement of 9.03.1978, Simmenthal SpA., EU:C:1978:49). This is of profound significance for the existence of the EU as a legal system, which must be uniform and equally applied in all member states. In addition to guaranteeing the effectiveness of EU law, legal uniformity entails the principle of equality of member states, since all shall set aside national legislation, which might prevent EU law from having full force and effect. Accordingly, each member state has the same rights and obligations under the Treaties and cannot derogate from their enforcement. From a legal perspective, differentiation is thus justified only insofar it does not, in the long term, undermine the uniformity of EU law and equality of member states and EU citizens. Moreover – based on art. 20 (1) TEU – we claim that any differentiation instrument must aim to further the objectives of the Union, protect its interests and reinforce its integration process. The legal basis for DI is mainly contained in the primary law. In particular, the Treaties lay down clear conditions for member states that wish to pursue it through the mechanism of enhanced cooperation (art. 326-334 TFEU). First, it is permitted only within the shared competences of the EU. Second, it is approved by the EU institutions and must not undermine key EU policies (e.g. the competition law or the freedoms of the internal market). Third, to avoid long-term fragmentation, enhanced cooperation must remain open to all member states. On the other hand, primary law also recognises individual opt-outs, which exclude a member state from selected policy areas (e.g. the euro area). These are always subject to intergovernmental negotiations. As such, they should not be regarded as the guiding logic of European integration but are simply documenting the exceptions to the rule. The central tenets of a multi-speed Europe are legally justified within the current EU legal framework. In theory, forms of cooperation between member states based on this ideal type are permissible under the Treaties as long as they do not undermine the uniformity of EU law and the equality of member states. Regarding these principles, enhanced cooperation provides for temporary differentiation in the application of the laws established within its framework, provided that the project is inclusive and fosters uniform integration in the long term. Europe à la carte, on the other hand, stands in contrast to the principles of legal uniformity and equality of member states. First, it is difficult to imagine that a uniform application of EU law is upheld when the Union is divided into numerous islands of integration. Second, if member states are allowed to opt in and out of common policies, there is no equality before EU law between them, as each has different rights and obligations. Even though there is some manifestation of this vision in the primary law in the form of opt-outs, these should be merely regarded as a mechanism of last resort to break serious political stalemates during treaty negotiations. As all member states have agreed in the Treaties to continue the process of creating an ever-closer union, the pick-and-choose approach has no legal justification as a general instrument of differentiation. Adherence to the doctrine of uniform interpretation and application of EU law has a profound effect on the functioning of the EU and its member states, and on the legal status of their citizens. In general, the more uniform the application of EU law, the better the protection of citizens’ rights under it. Moreover, a common understanding of EU law in the member states increases legal certainty for EU citizens, as it is possible to predict how national authorities across Europe interpret it. Since the concept of a multi-speed Europe is based on the premise that uniform application of EU law is the ultimate goal, it has a much higher justification from the perspective of the legal status of EU citizens than Europe à la carte. Theoretically, even though the scope of application of EU law enshrining citizens’ rights may slightly differ across the EU due to the varying participation of member states in multi-speed projects, they all still participate in core EU policies (e.g. the internal market) and ultimately aim for a homogeneous EU. It does not mean, however, that the ideal type of a multi-speed Europe fits perfectly into the logic of the existing Treaties. Instead, its acceptance arises from the need to find a compromise between EU principles and political realities in the member states. In contrast, the completion of a Europe à la carte would arguably lead to a differentiation of the legal status of EU citizens depending on their country of origin, e.g. the freedom of movement applying only to nationals of certain member states. In addition, this finalité conception may significantly decrease the legal certainty of EU citizens, as there is little or no common denominator between member states in the application of EU law. It would, therefore, be difficult for citizens to anticipate the outcome of a legal dispute concerning their rights in different national jurisdictions within the EU. Therefore, the answer to the question of whether DI is legally justified is highly theoretical and speculative. Regarding Europe à la carte, we do not find any direct justification in the EU primary law for this finalité conception. It contradicts the EU principles of uniform integration, which guarantees a coherent legal system, ensuring equal rights and obligations of all member states and EU citizens. The pursuit of such an approach would entail a substantial revision of the Treaties. In contrast, the concept of a multi-speed Europe respects the uniformity of EU law and equality of member states and EU citizens in the long term. Nonetheless, even multi-speed Europe requires vigilant legal oversight to prevent permanent deviations from uniformity and to ensure compliance with Article 20 TEU objectives. In addition, some multi-speed projects have already been initiated under the Treaty-based procedure of enhanced cooperation (e.g. concerning the divorce law, patents and the financial transaction tax). On the other hand, any of the scenarios do not fit into the logic of the existing Treaties, as uniform integration is the preferred mode. 3.2. Social sources of legitimacy Social justification refers to the citizens’ approval of political rule by their democratically elected representatives. In a democracy, political decisions are expected to broadly reflect the citizens’ preferences by means of free and fair elections, channels of direct democracy, and a high responsiveness of political representatives. Further European integration is widely accepted to hinge on public support (Hobolt & de Vries, Citation2016 Leuffen et al., Citation2020;). The social justification of EU differentiation raises the question to what extent its citizens approve of differentiation. Nevertheless, we need to specify the model of differentiation we refer to and the exact group of people we address when speaking of citizens. On the one hand, outcomes of opinion polls vary considerably depending on the specific differentiation concept and wording applied (Schüssler et al., Citation2021, p. 19; Stahl, Citation2021). On the other hand, we might address either EU citizens, regardless of their national affiliation, or EU member citizens in terms of state people. In short, we may apply either normative intergovernmentalism on the attitudes of EU member states` citizens or normative supranationalism on the dispositions of EU citizens, each time distinguishing between the competing models of multi-speed Europe and Europe à la carte. Normative intergovernmentalism focuses on EU member states’ people, whose national representatives are held accountable by their electorate. Approval rates for multi-speed Europe vary across space and time. A positive perception of differentiation is consistently and substantially much higher among Northern than Southern member states. Based on Eurobarometer 86.1 fielded in September and October 2016 (Leuffen et al., Citation2020, p. 9; similar Schüssler et al., Citation2021, p. 17; Stahl, Citation2021, p. 10f.), we observe that support for DI among citizens in Southern Europe is about 21 percentage points lower than in Northern Europe and remains largely stable even when testing against individual-level covariates. The concept of Europe à la carte is more controversial among EU member states. Attitudes among citizens in EU member states vary considerably, with no apparent pattern between Southern and Northern member states and net contributors and recipients. For example, in their analysis of eight EU member states, Schüssler et al. (Citation2021, p. 12) find that in Germany and Ireland citizens disapprove of such a pick-and-choose approach while those in Denmark, Netherlands, Poland, Greece, France and Italy are supportive. Similarly, Anna Stahl (Citation2021, p. 10) sees Southern member states divided on the possibility of building coalitions of the willing. Which implications does this have for the social justification of differentiation? The regional cleavage regarding multi-speed Europe correlates with the divide between EU budget net contributors and recipients and is likely to be the result of the Eurozone crisis (Leuffen et al., Citation2020, p. 2). Should such tensions occur due to citizens’ anxiety about being left behind or permanently discriminated (Schüssler et al., Citation2021, p. 19), the EU could take appropriate measures to alleviate such concerns. If an asynchronous approach is taken simply due to economic asymmetries, redistributive funds could help those member states less off to swiftly catch up with the avant-garde. This could lead to higher public support for (differentiated) integration in these states. In contrast, Europe à la carte likely drive a wedge between member states. A systemically applied pick-and-choose approach would hardly be acceptable as a modus vivendi for European integration in key policy fields. Not only is it hard to discern any patterns regarding which political measures might be addressed to raise public support. Also, resistance appears to be of rather principled nature. Schüssler et al. (Citation2021, p. 13) argue that Germany’s disapproval seems to be the expression of ‘a greater normative-cultural preference towards a unified Europe’. And yet, if sparsely granted, opt-outs or pre-ins could serve as a (permanent or temporary) compromise between full membership and no membership and bring those in favour and against further integration closer again (Schraff & Schimmelfennig, Citation2020). Normative supranationalism considers EU citizens to be the only constituents of the EU (Eriksen, Citation2019). Most EU citizens are in favour of either model of differentiation. While approval rates for multi-speed Europe have mostly reached an absolute majority in the past years (Leuffen et al., Citation2020, p. 8), support for Europe à la carte remains only slightly short of such a majority, with 19 per cent more supporters than opponents (Schüssler et al., Citation2021, p. 13). Leuffen et al. (Citation2020) used Eurobarometer data from 2011 and 2017 and Schüssler et al. (Citation2021) present own data from early 2021. Schüssler et al. (Citation2021) use the term two-tier Europe but it does not differ semantically from our understanding of multi-speed Europe. Yet, this does not imply that differentiation is undisputed among EU citizens. On the one hand, every differentiation model is associated with diverging expectations regarding further integration. Proponents of multi-speed Europe display integrationist dispositions, while advocates of Europe à la carte take a nationalist stance and reject further integration (Schüssler et al., Citation2021, p. 15; De Blok & de Vries, Citation2023). The choice for specific forms of differentiation appear to mainly reflect integration preferences: Those critical of further integration endorse Europe à la carte as the model in which each member state is allowed to stay behind. Those favouring multi-speed Europe would see it as a compromise of deeper integration and a guarantee for a uniform structure in the long term. In other words, if differentiation is perceived as the only way forward, in a multi-speed Europe divisions would be only temporary. There is no broad majority for differentiation per se, but there are two camps opposed to each other with different finalité conceptions of European integration (De Blok & de Vries, Citation2023, p. 19). On the other hand, the support for each differentiation model is associated with certain ideological dispositions. Leuffen et al. (Citation2020, p. 11) argue that economic liberals, who prefer freedom of choice and autonomy over social equality and solidarity, tend to support differentiation, whereas economic egalitarians are generally more sceptical regarding an asynchronous approach. Schüssler et al. (Citation2021, p. 15) further qualify this by distinguishing between alternative models. They find that economic liberals prefer à la carte over multi-speed Europe. In contrast, economic egalitarians tend to endorse the latter. In sum, the high support of both models suggests that differentiation is generally accepted as an appropriate strategy to deal with stalemates in the EU. Nevertheless, EU citizens know the consequences of alternative forms of differentiation. In the long run, public support for differentiation will likely reflect opposing views on certain values and EU finalité notions. The answer to the question of which effects further differentiation would have on the attitude of citizens in the EU must be nuanced. Depending on their nationality and ideological beliefs, support for differentiation varies across the competing models. Regardless of the evaluation standard, multi-speed Europe is expected to cause less potential for conflict than Europa à la carte due to higher overall approval rates, smaller variance in public support and presumably merely temporal national divisions due to the Eurozone crisis. Even though there is a relative majority for both differentiation models when juxtaposed to uniform integration, it seems likely that any form of differentiation would deepen the frontlines between proponents and opponents of further integration. Therefore, differentiation is about to release centrifugal rather than centripetal effects for the future of European integration and may enhance politicisation regarding the future of the EU rather than reduce it (De Blok & de Vries, Citation2023, p. 5). 3.3 Political sources of legitimacy The political justification of differentiation raises the question of whether DI provides plausible arguments for justifying the political order of the European Union. The values it commits to are enshrined in article 2 of the Treaty on the European Union. In the following, we focus on democracy as one of the EU fundamental values. In line with Fritz Scharpf (Citation1999, Citation2004) we distinguish between an input and an output dimension of political justification (see also Schimmelfennig et al., Citation2023a). The input dimension indicates the extent to which the outcome of a political decision matches the citizens’ preferences. In a democracy, this is usually ensured by direct and indirect participation, i.e. through referenda and elections. In order to generate well-informed and reflected preferences in terms of an enlightened understanding of the consequences of a policy (Dahl, Citation1989, p. 307) citizens have to engage in public debates before they vote for the adoption of a policy or a representative. However, should individual preferences be disregarded through majority voting, only the prevalence of a collective identity might convince those being outvoted to accept the decision. For this, individual preferences need to aim at a collective good so that a willingness to act in solidarity evolves (Scharpf, Citation2004, p. 8). The output dimension concerns the requirements of those in power. First, in liberal democracies, the prevention of an abuse of power is guaranteed through checks and balances. Due to a high number of veto players involved, power concentration and, thus, the abolition of democracy itself becomes unlikely. Second, the elected representatives provide a problem-solving capacity to enhance security and welfare (Scharpf, Citation2004, p. 8). The effectiveness of decision-making in a political order indicates the number of social goods the political system can generate. So, what effects could differentiation have on the EU's input and output dimensions? At first glance, it enhances the EU’s political justification in both respects compared to a situation, where no differentiation is allowed. On the one hand, the renunciation from a uniform approach appears in specific policy fields to be a fair solution when the heterogeneity of collective preferences leads to stalemates (von Ondarza, Citation2013, p. 15). Differentiation could serve as a means to respect the preferences of both those member states, which want to move forward, and those, which do not. On the other hand, the output should increase for the avant-garde, which move ahead. It might convince those left behind to catch up in due time. Therefore, the effectiveness of a political order should increase due to differentiation as a mutually acceptable means to overcome stalemates, particularly in crises with high expectations of any agreement. Nonetheless, asynchronous integration comes at a price. Irrespective of the specific differentiation model, an asynchronous approach has its pitfalls. European integration can be understood as a means to manage externalities as a product of structural interdependence between its member states (Eriksen, Citation2019, Citation2022; Lord, Citation2015, Citation2021). From a club theoretical perspective, the European Union is meant to provide club goods to which only its members are entitled. In contrast to private goods, club goods are only partially rival but differ from pure public goods in that they are divisible and excludible (see Cornes & Sandler, Citation1986 Olson, Citation1965;). Producing club goods likely generate negative externalities for non-members who are denied access. With regard to the input dimension, asynchronous integration might thus cause a serious breach of democratic self-rule when negative externalities force member states, which do not participate in a differentiated policy field, to adopt rules they cannot shape. A politically differentiated EU deprives some of the citizens of their right to co-determine decisions, the effects of which they cannot avoid. Dominance occurs when the citizens do not have equal opportunity to wield political influence; when they are subjected to laws they cannot amend. (Eriksen, Citation2019, p. 122) If freedom means non-domination (Pettit, Citation1997; Mehlhausen, Citation2015, p. 144f.), an incongruence between those who are governed and those who govern violates the very core of modern democracy. Eriksen (Citation2019, p. 127; see also Keleman, Citation2021, p. 678) points out that dominance is twofold: Not only is there a lack of correspondence between citizens and decision-makers (input congruence), but also is there a gap between the territory that rules are made for and the territory within which they de facto apply (output congruence).Dominance is even more concerning if member states cannot join the avant-garde. Such ‘discriminatory differentiation’ can be deemed unfair in comparison to ‘exemptive differentiation’ (Schimmelfennig, Citation2014), when member states do not want to join: For John Rawls (Citation1971), claims can be deemed fair, if they are based on prior decisions and not circumstances (Kymlicka, Citation1990). Within the European Union, the unequal distribution of resources, particularly the structural interdependence, are sound arguments for mutual obligations including compensation (Beitz, Citation1979, pp. 141–142). For example, Romania and Bulgaria are not allowed to join Schengen as they are not seen as sufficiently prepared to fulfil the accession criteria (discriminatory differentiation). In contrast, the Danish population voted down the Maastricht Treaty in 1992 and accepted it a year later once Denmark opted out of the EMU (exemptive differentiation). It was their own volition to prefer the externalities of staying outside over EMU obligations. If member states even prefer multi-speed Europe to opt out (see Jensen and Slapin, Citation2012), however, negative externalities are justified. There are also dilemmas regarding the output dimension. European integration also causes positive externalities that allows non-members to avoid participation costs through free-riding, e.g. when not participating in punitive actions against third actors. For example, the decision of eleven member states to introduce a finance transaction tax as enhanced cooperation might be advantageous for member states staying outside since this increases their competitiveness in the capital market. Even more concerning are the consequences of the vicious circle of enhancing the output at the expense of the input dimension: The more the EU’s political structure is scattered due to vertical differentiation (polity), the less European citizens understand its decision-making process (politics) and develop a collective identity. This further reduces the chances of ambitious political projects (policies) such as Social Europe, which will produce winners and losers and necessitate solidarity among EU citizens. Beyond these considerations regarding the process of differentiation as such, each specific model of differentiation is linked to specific challenges of political justification. Multi-speed Europe ensures that divisions in the EU due to differentiation are merely temporary. It is the reason why the input dimension remains comparably high: Both elections to the European Parliament and forms of direct democracy, such as European Citizens Initiatives, are based on the premise of the equality of EU citizens. As long as the pre-ins catch up with the avant-garde in due time, differentiation should be a manageable obstacle to developing a European collective identity, since the eventual goal of unity remains. However, the postponement of the obligation to implement a certain policy leads with increasing time to a potential generational conflict among those states expected to catch up with the avant-garde. First, in these states future generations are deprived of the right of self-determination, since decisions of previous governments bind them. For example, the ‘pre-ins’ such as Poland, Czechia and Hungary accepted the full implementation of the EMU as a condition to enter the EU in 2003, but have not yet introduced the Euro. The agreement legally binds the younger generations in these countries, while those in other member states can stay outside (Denmark) or leave the Eurozone (Euro countries) without contradicting binding law. Second, the longer the temporal gap between the decision to join a particular policy and the moment of accession persists, the more severe becomes dominance by either the pre-ins or the avant-garde. On the one hand, if the avant-garde is allowed to deepen a policy further without the consent of the pre-ins (exclusive differentiation), those states later entering the policy must accept an institutional structure they had never had the opportunity to shape. In 2011, Poland, as a pre-in and rotating EU Presidency, was forced to leave the Ecofin Council when it was to decide how to deal in the Euro crisis (Gostyńska & Ondarza, Citation2012). On the other hand, entitling the pre-ins with the same rights as the avant-garde (inclusive differentiation) seems unfair as long as there is no guarantee that the pre-ins will eventually join the Eurozone. In Poland, for instance, neither the government nor the majority of the opposition plans to introduce the Euro soon (Mehlhausen et al., Citation2024). In such a scenario, the pre-ins’ full participation could eventually lead to their permanent control of the avant-garde. With regard to the output, the competences of EU institutions are not undermined through differentiation and provide a high level of checks and balances. The production of social goods is likely to be higher than in uniform integration since member states reluctant or unprepared to take part in the integration of a policy field might refrain from lodging a veto if they can postpone the costs of immediate accession into the distant future (see Plümper et al., Citation2007). Yet, unanimity on common goals is still likely to produce compromises based on the smallest common denominator, since the hesitant member states have to accept that they will adopt the policy at some time in the future and might face negative externalities in the meantime. Therefore, stalemates might not be as likely as in uniform integration in this model but are still probable. In sum, as long as the member states left behind catch up quickly with the avant-garde, this ideal type has little impact on the EU as a polity. However, the potential of differentiation to enhance the EU’s effectiveness in dealing with the heterogeneity of preferences in an EU-27 is limited by the requirement to find consensus among all EU member states on common integration goals. Europe à la carte: Due to its flexibility in forming coalitions of the willing to integrate any policy regardless of other member states, the main promise of this ideal type is to adjust the EU’s institutional structure to the individual preferences of its member states. Therefore, the key incentive is to maximise the EU’s output by enhancing the production of social goods as long as the political will for it among a number of member states prevails. This, in turn, allows for a high input by ensuring that any member state may stay outside to guarantee that the preferences of member states will be respected. Still, such a pick-and-choose approach severely affects the EU as a polity. Concerning its input dimension, participation in referendums and the elections to the European Parliament lose its justifying power, the lower the congruence between EU citizenry and the territory within which policies in such differentiation mode would apply. Moreover, the more scattered the institutional structure mirroring the heterogeneous preferences of EU member states, the less likely it is that EU citizens will develop a European collective identity. Regarding the EU’s output, cherry-picking limits the scope of integration and induces instability. On the one hand, the lack of European solidarity (Kleger & Mehlhausen, Citation2013) remains an obstacle to integrating ‘sensitive’ or redistributive policy fields, such as social, labour or tax policies. On the other hand, differentiation reduces checks and balances. The decreased representativeness of the European Parliament in a growing number of incongruent islands of integration facilitates intergovernmental decision-making and, thus, a dominance of member states’ preferences. Not only does this reduce the number of potential veto players, but it also undermines the stability of the EU when rival coalitions struggle over power in an increasingly fragmented EU (Eriksen, Citation2019, p. 152). In other words, the political structure of Europe à la carte tends to reproduce itself as it cements the trend towards a rather loose and regulative international organisation rather than a federal polity in the making. 4. Conclusions The article has aimed to unearth the legitimacy resources and deficits of DI from a legal, social and political perspective. Our findings have also implications for policymakers. Any form of DI must remain exceptional, treaty-based, and oriented toward eventual uniformity to safeguard the legal certainty of EU citizens and the integrity of EU law. In general, any differentiation allows compromises, which adjust the institutional structure to the disparate interests of EU member states. However, such deviations from uniform integration are likely to produce new challenges for European integration. From the legal vantage point, European integration can only be deemed legitimate if it respects the uniformity of EU law and the equality of member states and EU citizens. While multi-speed Europe generally satisfies these criteria in the long-term, Europe à la carte does not. From a sociological perspective, differentiation not only makes the EU more opaque but is also highly controversial. Even if an absolute or nearly absolute majority of EU citizens approve of multi-speed Europe and Europe à la carte respectively, citizens appear to be divided over the specific model rather than supportive of DI as general. We assume that ongoing DI will cause a growing rift among EU citizens. From a political perspective, the democratic legitimacy would only be enhanced with increasing differentiation at first glance due to a better match between national preferences and further integration as well as a provision of additional social goods. In the long run, however, Europe à la carte, would undermine European solidarity, prevent cooperation in more ambitious policy fields with substantive redistributive effects and entail free-riding and negative externalities. Even multi-speed Europe could cause such effects and severe intergenerational frictions within pre-in member states, the longer the delay prevails. From the perspective of normative intergovernmentalism, which assumes that the member states are the EU`s constituencies, Europe à la carte appears to be preferable. Such an approach to European integration would, par excellence, mirror the national preferences of EU member states. Given the decreasing representativeness of supranational bodies, intergovernmental decision-making would appear ever more legitimate in a loose and fluid confederation of European states. In the long run, however, it remains to be seen whether particular national interests can indeed be pursued in such a political setting with low legal certainty, little predictability due to high volatility of coalitions and shrinking bargaining power on the global scene. From the perspective of normative supranationalism, which considers the EU’s citizens as its constituencies, only multi-speed Europe would ensure legal certainty in the long term, the representativeness of supranational bodies and the perspective of continuous integration. A crucial prerequisite would be that the temporal deviation from uniform integration does not take decades but rather a few years at best and that the EU takes adequate measures to return as soon as possible to uniform integration by assisting member states to join in. Otherwise, social support might dwindle, undermining the implicit vision of a federal state in the making. In this regard, a promising approach represents the theory of demoicracy (Bellamy et al., Citation2022 Cheneval & Schimmelfennig, Citation2013;), which proposes a third, synthetic standard to assess the legitimacy of the European Union. Whichever model the EU adopts, it faces a dilemma: When aspiring multi-speed Europe, further integration might nurture the creation of a solid European identity, which is a prerequisite for substantial progress in European integration. However, negotiations among member states would be bound to be based on the smallest common denominator. The alternative of a Europe à la carte promises more flexibility and a growing number of multilateral initiatives. In the long run, however, this undermines the very basis for any ambitious initiatives. Moreover, even though we treat each strand of justification separately, we expect various spill-over effects. We hypothesise two scenarios. On the one hand, from the perspective of normative intergovernmentalism we might expect a virtuous circle: a better match of member states citizens (political legitimacy) could lead to their increasing support (social legitimacy), causing centripetal effects on increasing integration. On the other hand, from the vantage point of normative supranationalism, a vicious circle seems also possible: decreasing legal certainty (legal legitimacy) and transparency of decision-making (political legitimacy) might have an adverse influence on EU citizens’ support (social legitimacy) with centrifugal impact on increasing disintegration (Malang & Schraff, Citation2023). Unlike prior work focusing narrowly on legal permissibility or political feasibility, this article highlights the interplay of normative standards shaping the legitimacy of DI in EU law and practice. More empirical and interdisciplinary research is however needed to ascertain what dynamic DI unleashes in the EU in which policy fields (Schimmelfennig & Thomas, Citation2023; Vergioglou & Hegewald, Citation2023). The two extreme alternatives of multi-speed Europe and Europe à la carte constitute fragmented forms of traditional finalité conceptions, i.e. either a state-like polity (United States of Europe) or a flexible international organisation (Europe of Nations). Multi-speed Europe and federal visions share the political objectives and the need to subordinate national interests to European ones, with the former allowing for more flexibility. Europe à la carte and confederal finalité conceptions share the idea of intergovernmental decision-making based on national sovereignty and unanimity but differ in their horizontal extension. Consequently, pro-European parties favour multi-speed Europe, whereas Eurosceptics prefer Europe à la carte (Mehlhausen et al., Citation2024; Moland, Citation2024). DI seems to be unable to overcome profound discrepancies of finalité conceptions among member states as the tensions between national autonomy and European governance remains (see Lord, Citation2021). Rather, DI postpones them while creating new challenges such as an intergenerational democracy deficit. Even though allowing short-term solutions in deadlocked negotiations, further challenges arise from a legal, social and political perspective. In sum, DI should be regarded as a means of last resort and at best a temporary deviation from uniform integration. For those in favour of normative intergovernmentalism, Europe à la carte would be one among many forms of accepted international cooperation. In contrast, those preferring normative supranationalism might seek instruments to use multi-speed Europe to promote uniform integration, e.g. by introducing certain funds setting incentives and providing resources for those states, which are supposed to catch up. For further EU enlargements, DI has also significant implications. Candidate states are likely to prefer uniform integration since the full accession is associated with the complete set of rights. Whichever DI model prevails within the EU, candidate states have less incentives to adopt the acquis communautaire since they are excluded from a number of social goods. Multi-speed Europe entails the promise of joining these at a certain time, while Europe à la carte does not. Whichever DI model the EU promotes, it is certain to impact on the EU's own constitutional shape. AcknowledgementsThis paper is part of the research project ‘Germany and Poland in a Differentiated European Union’ funded by the German-Polish Science Foundation.Disclosure statementNo potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).Additional informationFundingThis work was supported by The German-Polish Science Foundation.Notes1 We use the terms legitimacy and justification interchangeably.References1. Beetham, D. (1991). The legitimation of power. Macmillan.2. Beitz, C. R. (1979). Political theory and international relations. Princeton University Press.3. Bellamy, R., Sandra, K., & Lorimer, M. (2022). Flexible Europe. Differentiated integration, fairness, and democracy.4. Byberg, R. (2017). The history of the integration through law project: Creating the academic expression of a constitutional legal vision for Europe. German Law Journal, 18(6), 1531–1556.5. 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What started as predictions of a nail-bitingly close election in Samoa turned into a stunning landslide for FAST party leader La’auli Leuatea Schmidt—a politician facing ten criminal charges who had been expelled from his own government just months earlier. The August 29 snap election delivered one of the Pacific’s most dramatic political comebacks, leaving Samoa’s first female Prime Minister with just three seats and raising serious questions about democracy and accountability in the island nation. A Decisive Victory Against All Odds Expectations that Samoa’s 29 August snap election would deliver a close, perhaps even indecisive, result lasted less than nine hours after the close of voting.  Final counting showed that the Fa’atuatua i le Atua Samoa ua Tasi (FAST) party had scored a comprehensive victory.   The flow of ballots to FAST was so decisive that it begs the question of what explains such a stunning result for a party formed just before the 2021 election, which was beset by an internal split so acrimonious that it caused the snap election and was headed by a politician facing ten police charges. Going into the election, FAST, led by party founder La’auli Leuatea Schmidt, had held 20 seats but had captured 30 of the 51 seats in the Legislative Assembly through effective social media and “roadshow” campaigning.  The Human Rights Protection Party (HRPP) hoped to turn around the 2021 loss that ended nearly four decades of political dominance.  However, losing four seats, HRPP leader, Tuilaepa Sailele Malielegaoi, only delivered the 14 seats down from 18 held previously.  The Fall of Samoa’s First Female Prime Minister The election was a stunning fall from grace for Samoa’s first female prime minister, Fiamē Naomi Mata’afa.  Her Samoa Uniting Party (SUP), which did not exist when the election was called, only won 3 seats, including hers.     Ironically, the creation of the SUP may have been the key underlying reason for the FAST win.  SUP was created as a vehicle for the minority government, composed of the 14 ministers who remained loyal to Fiamē after the schism within the governing FAST, when the PM sacked La’auli for refusing to stand down during a police investigation. He retaliated by expelling her and several other ministers from the party. The Scapegoating Strategy That Worked It was the brave decision by the 15 members of Fiamē’s minority government to contest the election together under the new party label that significantly contributed to FAST’s electoral success.  Fiamē’s government was blamed, inter alia, for cost-of-living pressures, infrastructure failures, particularly a collapse in the electricity supply and a dengue outbreak during the campaign.    Due to Fiamē’s caretaker government running under the new SUP banner and to artful campaign gaslighting by FAST,  FAST was largely successful in deflecting blame for its role in setting policy for virtually all of the four years before the snap election.  It is difficult to know how FAST would have fared had the election been fought without the split in the party.  Nevertheless, it was clear from the campaign that anti-government sentiment was directed against SUP rather than FAST, and FAST benefited from this scapegoating in terms of electoral support.  The Mathematics of Power Just how broadly the incoming FAST Government will be able to utilise its majority may depend on the choice the four elected Independents make upon entering the new Legislative Assembly.  If past is prologue, most will re-align themselves as FAST  members on entering the Assembly as they are allowed to do.  Historically, this has been relatively common across Samoan politics because villages want their member to join with the winning side to enable them to enjoy influence and the rewards of government largesse. Having a two-thirds super majority in Parliament enabled an earlier HRPP government to make the constitutional changes as easily as passing a statute.  These constitutional amendments set Samoa on the path to transitioning from a parliamentary democracy to a party democracy and contributed to the constitutional crisis in 2021. Unfinished Business: Court Challenges and Women’s Representation However, there are at least two more scenarios to play out before the 2025 snap election has entirely run its course. Challenges to successful candidates are so common that the special elections’ court (essentially a court of disputed returns) has set a November time limit in its calendar for hearing candidate challenges.  After the 2021 election, 20% of the seats were challenged and went to trial.  Challenges can arise from electoral violations such as bribery, treating and vote buying that are the standard forms of electoral corruption elsewhere.   However, Samoa has its own unique violations arising in Samoa’s fa’amatai (chief-based) political system.  Customary practices entrenched in electoral law, such as monotaga (village service), which is required for eligibility to stand, can appear subject to arbitrary partisan decisions by village authorities.  Challenges based on customary obligations are both common and complex.     The second scenario can also be determinative in the final number of members who take a seat in the Maota Fono (parliament house). Still, it only comes into play after the candidate challenges have been resolved.  A 2013 constitutional amendment requires that women constitute at least 10% of the seats in Parliament. The percentage figure adopted for the amendment was based on the calculation that only one in ten matai (chief) titles were held by women. If the declared contests for the country’s 51 parliamentary seats do not elect six women members, the results are reviewed to fill as many additional seats from the highest polling losing women candidates. The results in the 2021 election between HRPP and FAST were so tight that a court case ensued to determine the point in the electoral process at which a determination would be made to activate the constitutional provision.  At that time, when or if an additional women’s seat was needed, it could have flipped which party formed the Government.  Five women have been elected in 2025, making an additional seat necessary, but this will not be filled, if necessary, only after the final gender balance has been settled following the court challenges and any subsequent by-elections.   The final result may not be known definitively until November, when the number of seats in the Parliament and the party distribution in the Assembly are resolved.  Political Consequences and Future Uncertainties The size of the FAST win makes it highly unlikely that there is any threat to a La’auli-led Government, but the ease with which the constitution can be amended could be at issue.  Other political consequences of the election are clearer now. The SUP has not reached the threshold of eight to be recognised under standing orders as a parliamentary party.  Thus, Fiamē will only have the status of a private member on the floor of the Assembly, and, historically, Samoa’s procedures have not been kind to private members.  Importantly, Fiamē’s absence from the regional stage will be felt by the wider international community, as she was a proven and respected regional leader.  La’auli has seemed disinterested in taking on this role.   For HRPP’s Tuilaepa, this second electoral defeat may be consequential.  There is a question as to whether he will remain in his leadership position. Some feel that defeat in two successive elections should see him replaced, especially as he would be 85 at the next election. La’auli’s Position and Governing Challenges La’auli’s standing within the party he founded and led to the upset victory in 2021 could scarcely be higher.  He more than weathered the split in FAST; he provoked and proved that 2021 was not an aberrant election but a realigning one.  A practical limiting factor for La’auli on spending the political capital of his success may be ministerial inexperience.  La’auli’s incoming government will be bereft of experienced talent, as the largest share of 2021 FAST ministers defected to SUP in the FAST party split. If there is any threat to his leadership, it is more likely to come from outside the party.  The rift between La’auli and Fiamē was driven by the PM’s demand that La’auli stand down during a police investigation into criminal action against him.  Fiamē sacked him from the ministry when he refused. With Trumpian echoes, La’auli’s critics, including Tuilaepa, claimed his move against Fiamē was to take over the prime ministership to avoid prosecution.  La’auli will now be the prime minister, and many will be watching to see what happens to the case against him.  Despite the predictable uncertainties in the immediate future as the election results are bedded down, there is a noticeable sense of relief that the parliamentary infighting is over.  This article is published under Creative License and may be republished with attribution.

Anger, frustration and no confidence For the first time in the history of the Fifth Republic, a French government has been toppled following a vote of confidence based on Article 49.1 of the constitution. On September 8, the National Assembly refused to trust the cabinet of Prime Minister François Bayrou - a historic turning point in French politics. The Élysée Palace announced that President Emmanuel Macron had "taken note" of the government's failure and would "appoint a new prime minister in the coming days". While strikes and blockades have been announced for September 10 and 18, which are intended in particular to express the dissatisfaction of the French with regard to their purchasing power and further economic cuts, the question arises as to how Macron intends to maneuver France out of the political impasse and survive until the 2027 presidential elections. Clear vote, divided bourgeois-conservative camp Prime Minister François Bayrou's government clearly lost the confidence of parliament with 364 votes against, only 194 in favor and 15 abstentions. The result reflects a broad rejection of the government in almost all political camps. MPs from the Rassemblement National (123 votes), the populist left-wing La France Insoumise (LFI) (71), the Socialists (66), the Greens (38), the Communists (17) and the parliamentary group of former Les Républicains leader Eric Ciotti voted unanimously against the cabinet, Union des droites pour la République (15), as well as the majority of the opposition group Liot (Libertés, indépendants, outre-mer et territoires) (15 of 23 MPs), which unites several MPs from the center-left, center and center-right spectrum. Even six non-attached MPs did not express their confidence in Bayrou. The disagreement within the conservative Républicains parliamentary group was remarkable with regard to the government participation to date. While many parliamentary groups took a united stance, the Républicains were very divided: 13 of their MPs voted against confidence, 27 in favor and 9 abstained. In the run-up to the vote, parliamentary group leader Laurent Wauquiez had given MPs a free choice and expressed so much criticism in his speech before the vote that it was easy to forget that his party provides some of the ministers. On the government side, in addition to almost all MPs from the presidential camp Ensemble pour la République (90 out of 91 votes), the partners from the MoDem alliance (36 votes) and Horizons (34 votes) also voted in favor of confidence. Support also came from 27 Républicains MPs, four members of the Liot group and three non-attached MPs. In addition to the nine LR MPs, abstentions came from four Liot members, one non-attached MP and Violette Spillebout from the presidential majority. Reactions of the parties and options for action The fall of Prime Minister François Bayrou reflects the ongoing political instability in France. Head of state Emmanuel Macron, who is being held responsible for the crisis even within his own camp due to the dissolution of the National Assembly in the summer of 2024, is under pressure to put forward a new candidate for the post of prime minister. All parties appear trapped in their positions and show little willingness to compromise.   Emancipation of the presidential majority from head of state Emmanuel Macron Former Prime Minister and current leader of the Ensemble pour la République parliamentary group, Gabriel Attal, criticized a "state of permanent instability", which in his opinion could not be remedied by early elections. Dissolving the National Assembly would be "the worst solution", he explained. The real challenge does not lie with the electorate: "The French voted a year ago. The problem is not the citizens, but a political class that is incapable of agreeing on a common path." Gabriel Attal, therefore reiterated his wish on September 9 that President Emmanuel Macron should first appoint a "negotiator" before a decision is made on the appointment of the prime minister. According to Attal, this person should "not come from direct active politics“ but should be able to "bring all the players to the table". While the Élysée Palace announced that President Macron would appoint a new prime minister "in the coming days", Attal emphasized that the only relevant deadline was 31 December - the date by which the budget for 2026 must be adopted and the draft of which must be submitted to parliament by 7 October at the latest. People close to President Emmanuel Macron assume that he will not appoint anyone he does not know well or whose convictions do not match his own. The appointment of a minister from the Bayrou government is therefore not completely out of the question.  The names of Defense Minister Sébastien Lecornu, a close confidant of Macron, and Catherine Vautrin, Minister of Labor and Health, whom Macron almost appointed as Prime Minister in 2022, but then opted for Elisabeth Borne, have been mentioned. The name Gérald Darmanin is also mentioned particularly often, who, as Minister of Justice and former Minister of the Interior, originally came from the ranks of the Républicains. However, his appointment could quickly meet with resistance from the left. The name of the current President of the National Assembly, Yaël Braun-Pivet, is also circulating. Fall of the president as a logical consequence of the election result for the left-wing populist France Insoumise The leader of La France Insoumise (LFI), Jean-Luc Mélenchon, called the result of the confidence vote a "clear victory" and declared that Emmanuel Macron was now "on the front line against the people". The founder of the far-left party called for the head of state to resign immediately. Immediately afterwards, LFI parliamentary group leader Mathilde Panot announced the filing of an impeachment motion against the President of the Republic. There is no willingness on the part of LFI to enter into talks to propose a prime minister together with the former allies of the Nouveau Front Populaire, namely the Socialists. "The only government we will support is our own, the one based on a program of change," Mathilde Panot emphasized on 2 September. A government with socialist representatives, should it come into being, could not expect the support of La France Insoumise. The Socialists see their chance The leader of the Socialist Party, Olivier Faure, is in favor of President Emmanuel Macron appointing a prime minister from the left-wing camp. His name was already mentioned as a potential candidate before the vote of confidence, and he signaled his willingness to be available. When asked how the Socialist Party would react to the possible appointment of a prime minister close to Macron, such as Sébastien Lecornu or Catherine Vautrin, Faure avoided giving a clear answer. "I'm not going to take part in speculation about what I would do with this or that person. At the moment, it's about laying claim to government responsibility and creating the conditions for this," he explained. Given the 66 MPs that the Socialist Group has at its disposal, it would have a central role to play in the current composition of the National Assembly. "What we need today is change," Faure continued. "We must finally open up a political perspective to citizens who are clearly expressing their dissatisfaction - one that does not consist of merely continuing what we have been experiencing for years." If the next prime minister does not come from the left-wing camp, the question arises as to whether Emmanuel Macron will at least facilitate a dialog with them in order to avoid a renewed rejection by the Socialists and the person sought would also have to be "acceptable" to the bourgeois-conservative camp, which is likely to be difficult. Bernard Cazeneuve, former Prime Minister under François Hollande, is considered a possible candidate from the ranks of the Socialists. However, his distance from the party makes broad support from the left difficult. His name was already under discussion after the dissolution of parliament in June 2024 - but Macron decided not to nominate him. Other names that have also been mentioned include Finance Minister Éric Lombard, a former member of the Socialist Party, and Raphaël Glucksmann, leader of the social democratic Place publique. The Rassemblement National calls for new elections During the debate on the vote of confidence in the National Assembly, Marine Le Pen called on Emmanuel Macron to dissolve the National Assembly and called for new elections. Marine Le Pen said: "Dissolution is an obligation for him [Emmanuel Macron]". In the event that a new prime minister is appointed from the presidential majority or the left-wing camp, the leader of the right-wing populist party, Jordan Bardella, announced that his parliamentary group would refuse to trust him. With regard to the impeachment proceedings announced by France Insoumise against Emmanuel Macron, Jordan Bardella sharply criticized Jean-Luc Mélenchon. He accused him of seeking "disorder, the collapse of the country and the destruction of social cohesion". At first glance, the party's position appears contradictory, as the leader of the parliamentary group, Marine Le Pen, has been declared provisionally ineligible, although her legal remedies have not yet been exhausted. Le Pen has already announced that she will submit a Question Prioritaire de Constitutionnalité (QPC) in the event of early parliamentary elections, which will question the constitutionality of the provisional ineligibility. Disagreement among the Républicains about their own role in the party structure Bruno Retailleau, leader of the Républicains and still Minister of the Interior, emphasized the urgent need to appoint a new Prime Minister immediately. In view of upcoming demonstrations and a "particularly sensitive September for riots", there should be no vacancy of power. "We need a prime minister who embodies the power of government as soon as possible. This is of crucial importance - especially with regard to safeguarding public order," Retailleau emphasized. Retailleau made it clear that the bourgeois-conservative camp would not accept the appointment of a prime minister from the ranks of the Socialist Party under any circumstances. For him, it is clear: "There is no question of accepting a government that includes ministers from the left or even France Insoumise." This is the only way to ensure a clear demarcation from the left-wing opposition. Retailleau thus sets himself apart from parliamentary group leader Laurent Wauquiez, who warns against premature condemnations and does not seek "automatic censorship" against a government with socialist participation. He only considers a rejection to be justified if the executive actually "includes ministers from La France Insoumise or implements the program of the Nouveau Front Populaire." The preferred candidate of parliamentary group leader Wauquiez is Xavier Bertrand, who briefly left the party and was an unsuccessful candidate in the 2022 presidential elections, but then returned to the party and has been the president of the regional council in the Haut-de-France region since 2016. Conclusion and outlook The pressure on the Élysée Palace is increasing and the various political parties are pursuing different strategies - either they are pushing for a dissolution (of the National Assembly) or for the resignation (of the President). For some of them, political stability no longer has any value and the will to reform does not appear to be sustainable; on the contrary, reforms that have already been implemented, such as pensions, are to be reopened and renegotiated. In the meantime, the voices calling for electoral law reform are becoming louder again - radical voices even see the end of the Fifth Republic. However, it is also clear that the constitution of the Fifth Republic and its institutions are not responsible for the political polarization, but rather the current majority situation.  The tripartite division of the political landscape reflects the feelings of French voters, which, according to polls, would not change significantly even if new elections were held. It remains to be hoped that the democratic parties in the center can pull themselves together to form a government with a clearly defined work plan that can pull the country out of the crisis. This would require a willingness to compromise and negotiate across party lines without the involvement of the extremes. Unfortunately, the current signals from the party leaders give little hope of an agreement in the interests of France's political (and economic) stability. The country is facing turbulent days, not only because of the desperate search for a stable government, but also because of the waves of protests announced by trade unions and left-wing groups that threaten to paralyze the country. The text of this work is licensed under the terms of "Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 international", CC BY-SA 4.0 (available at: https://creativecom mons.org/licenses/ by-sa/4.0/legalcode.de)

Beijing’s Victory Day parade in Tiananmen Square was designed to dazzle: ranks of uniformed troops, formations of aircraft, and an arsenal of new systems meant to underscore China’s rapid military modernization. But the most consequential image was not a missile or a stealth jet. It was a tableau of three leaders—Xi Jinping at the center, flanked by Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong Un—watching the spectacle together. The scene, widely broadcast and photographed, turned a commemorative event into a geopolitical marker. It was less a snapshot than a signal: the public normalization of a deepening alignment among China, Russia, and North Korea, at a moment when Western democracies are struggling to sustain cohesion on core strategic questions. The parade itself offered the familiar mixture of hardware and narrative. Coverage highlighted the unveiling or public confirmation of advanced systems across domains: upgraded intercontinental missiles, new submarine-launched ballistic missiles, hypersonic and anti-ship capabilities, long-range bombers, early warning aircraft, and a broad stable of unmanned platforms, including undersea vehicles and “loyal wingman” drones. Chinese media presented these developments as evidence of a “world-class” People’s Liberation Army (PLA) moving beyond legacy constraints and into truly multi-domain operations, with information, space, and cyber now integrated alongside land, sea, and air. Independent reporting catalogued the breadth of systems and emphasized a narrative of credible deterrence and strategic depth rather than mere choreography. Yet the more instructive message was political. The presence of Putin and Kim, alongside other leaders, was not a mere ceremonial occurrence. Each leader arrived with clear incentives to be seen at Xi’s side, and each gained by lending visual weight to Beijing’s story. For Moscow, the image reinforced the claim that Russia is not isolated, that it retains powerful partners and is embedded in a wider non-Western coalition. For Pyongyang, the moment was even more significant: an opportunity to step out of diplomatic isolation and be recognized publicly as a member of a consequential strategic grouping. For Beijing, hosting both leaders signaled that China can convene and coordinate—projecting status, reassuring sympathetic governments, and unsettling adversaries by hinting at a tighter web of cooperation among U.S. rivals. The convergence behind the optics has been building for years, and could have happened only on Chinese soil. China and Russia have expanded their coordination across energy, defense, and diplomatic, even as they preserve maneuvering room on sensitive issues. North Korea’s accelerating exchanges with Russia, alongside growing political warmth with Beijing, provide a third leg to this emerging tripod. None of this amounts to a formal alliance with mutual defense obligations. But it does resemble a strategic alignment held together by shared interests: resisting a U.S.-led order, blunting sanctions pressure, reducing vulnerability to Western technology restrictions, and demonstrating that alternatives exist to dollar-centric finance and Western supply chains. The choreography on the rostrum did not create this alignment; it made it more legible and clear. Memory politics is a key component of that legibility. Beijing’s decision to anchor the parade in the commemoration of victory over Japan allows contemporary power projection to be cloaked in a unifying moral narrative. China increasingly leverages World War II memory in diplomacy—shaping a “memory war” that reframes the post-1945 order and what is seen from China as its rightful place within it. Russia’s long-standing use of the “Great Patriotic War” plays a parallel role, justifying current policies through selective historical continuity. North Korea’s revolutionary mythology fits easily into this narrative architecture. By standing together at an anniversary of anti-fascist victory, the three leaders signaled an ideational convergence that complements their material cooperation: a claim to moral legitimacy as guardians of an alternative international vision. The military dimension of the parade, while not the core of this argument, still matters. Displays of a maturing triad—land-based ICBMs, submarine-launched systems, and an air-launched nuclear component—aim to convey survivable second-strike capacity. The public presentation of hypersonic and anti-ship systems is meant to complicate adversary planning in the Western Pacific. The range of unmanned platforms suggests an intent to saturate domains with relatively low-cost, attritable assets, improving persistence and compressing the sensor-to-shooter loop. It is prudent to treat parades cautiously: not all showcased systems are fully operational or fielded at scale, and performance claims are difficult to validate. But as an indicator, the breadth and integration of platforms reflect a planning culture committed to joint operations and “intelligentized” warfare, where AI-enabled targeting and decision support are not theoretical ambitions but programmatic priorities What, then, does the image of Xi–Putin–Kim actually change? First, it clarifies expectations. Observers no longer need to infer the trajectory of this triangular relationship from scattered bilateral overtures. The three leaders have chosen to make their alignment visible. Visibility creates deterrent value, raising the perceived costs of coercing any one member, and it can also facilitate practical cooperation: intelligence sharing, diplomatic coordination at the UN and other fora, synchronized signaling during regional crises, and mutually reinforcing sanctions-evasion practices. Second, it complicates Western planning. Even if Beijing keeps caution around direct military assistance in Europe or the Korean Peninsula, diplomatic top-cover, economic buffering, and technology flows short of lethal aid can still alter the correlation of forces over time. Finally, it resonates across the Global South. Many governments seek strategic autonomy and resist being forced into binary choices. The parade’s optics supplied a ready-made narrative for those who argue that the international system is already multipolar and that non-Western coalitions can deliver security and development without Western tutelage. The contrast with Western coordination was strikingly evident. In the transatlantic community, support for Ukraine remains substantial; however, debates about resource levels, war aims, and timelines have intensified. In the Indo-Pacific, there is a growing alignment on deterring coercion in the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea; however, national economic interests and differing risk tolerances result in uneven policies toward China. Across Europe and North America, electoral politics continue to inject volatility into foreign policy, complicating efforts to sustain long-term, bipartisan strategies. None of these frictions amounts to collapse, and there are genuine Western successes in coalition-building—from NATO enlargement to evolving minilateral formats in the Indo-Pacific. However, an analytically honest reading of the moment acknowledges that the authoritarian trio in Beijing has projected a unity of purpose that Western capitals currently struggle to match consistently. Three implications follow. The first is narrative competition. If Beijing, Moscow, and Pyongyang can turn a commemorative event into a global story about legitimacy and resilience, they will continue to use history as a strategic resource. The appropriate Western response is not to cede the narrative field but to invest in historically grounded, forward-looking messaging that explains the link between rules-based order and practical benefits—trade reliability, crisis management, and sovereignty protection—for diverse audiences. The second is coalition maintenance. Western policymakers will need to prioritize “coalition hygiene”: aligning export controls and investment screening where it matters most; building redundancy into critical supply chains; closing divergences in sanctions enforcement; and coordinating messaging so that tactical differences do not obscure strategic alignment. This requires political discipline more than new institutions. The third is theater integration. As the Beijing image suggested a cross-regional understanding among three adversarial capitals, allied planning must better account for cross-theater linkages—how actions in Europe affect deterrence in Asia, and vice versa—and ensure that resource allocations and industrial policies reflect genuinely global prioritization. It is important not to overstate. The emerging alignment among China, Russia, and North Korea is asymmetric and interest-based, not a tightly binding alliance. Beijing’s global economic integration imposes constraints that Moscow and Pyongyang do not share. Russia and North Korea each bring liabilities that China will manage carefully. Frictions—over technology, pricing, and regional equities—will persist. But the threshold crossed in Beijing is nonetheless meaningful. These governments judged that the benefits of public proximity now outweigh the costs. That judgment, once made, is difficult to reverse quickly; it tends to generate its own momentum through bureaucratic follow-through and sunk reputational costs. One image cannot rewrite the balance of power. It can, however, crystallize a trend and concentrate minds. The sight of Xi, Putin, and Kim standing together did exactly that. It captured an authoritarian convergence rooted in shared grievances and converging strategies, and it highlighted the challenge facing democracies that wish to preserve an open and stable order: maintaining the patience, unity, and policy discipline to act together. The test for the West is less whether it recognizes the signal—most capitals do—than whether it can convert recognition into sustained, collective action. If Beijing’s parade was a demonstration of choreography and intent, the appropriate answer is not a counter-parade, but the quieter work of alignment: aligning narratives with interests, interests with instruments, and instruments with partners. That work is not glamorous. It is, however, what turns a photo into policy.

Abstract Green growth has become doxa in the political economic governance of climate change. This is despite the lack of empirical evidence of its success and concerns that it reifies a business-as-usual dynamic. The question arises: why have practices of ‘green leadership’ maintained a hegemonic hold on how nation states respond to climate change? This provocation examines this question through an analysis of Singapore's policy ambition to become Asia's climate services leader. It draws on post-humanism to suggest that the form of ecomodernist leadership exhibited by Singapore not only perpetuates the status quo but (re)affirms the problematic anthropocentrism underpinning their approach. We demonstrate this through analysis of recent policy, media and private sector documents. Finally, we argue that a focus on Singapore matters because of its influence in the region and networked position globally. Introduction Singapore has emerged as a leader of green growth since gaining independence from Malaysia in 1965. Governed by the People's Action Party (PAP) since 1959, the city-state has pursued a developmental strategy focused on economic growth and wealth accumulation, despite its lack of natural resources. This strategy encompassed value-added manufacturing, high-tech research and financial services, propelling Singapore from a modest per capita GDP in 1965 of USD $516 to a substantial figure of USD $82,807 in 2022 (World Bank, 2022). However, this rapid development brought with it cumulative environmental challenges, including high Green House Gas (GHG) emissions, air pollution, ecosystem degradation and biodiversity loss (Goh, 2001). In response, Singapore reframed these issues as economic opportunities, effectively folding an ecomodernist or green growth approach into its development agenda (Dent, 2018; Hamilton-Hart 2006, 2022). This shift was significantly influenced by Lee Kuan Yew, Singapore's first Prime Minister, whose vision of a ‘Garden City’ involved a massive, ongoing tree-planting initiative. This initiative was not just an ecological project but a strategic move to attract foreign investment by showcasing Singapore as a modern, liveable city, thereby aligning nature conservation with economic development (Schneider-Mayerson, 2017). Building on Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew's leadership, Singapore has continued to adopt ecomodernist policies, promoting concepts such as sustainability as essential for maintaining its competitive edge in the global arena. The state's stance on climate change illustrates this approach: initially seen as a threat and often couched as an enemy in official discourse, climate change has been transformed into an opportunity for growth. This perspective is epitomised in the annual three-day Ecosperity conference, an elite gathering emphasising the synergy between ecological sustainability and economic prosperity. However, this green growth approach has faced criticism for prioritising human needs over ecological integrity (Dent, 2018; Schneider-Mayerson, 2017; Wong, 2012), suggesting that Singapore's model of ‘green’ leadership may not be sufficient for addressing the root causes of climate change and other environmental challenges. We are similarly concerned at Singapore's leadership stance towards climate change. The latest rendition of this is its ambition to become Asia's climate finance ‘leader’ and a hub of carbon trading. Not only does Singapore's green growth approach narrowly cast complex environmental issues as technical problems requiring technical solutions but it renders nature as an object to be used for human development. This anthropocentrism negates non-human agency, instrumentalises nature and limits the radical change necessary as others have noted (Böhm and Sullivan, 2021; Ergene, Banerjee and Hoffman, 2021; Nyberg and Wright, 2023). In the following provocation, we draw on post-humanist critique of anthropocentrism to give a brief overview of green growth (Braidotti, 2013, 2019; Calás and Smircich, 2023). Second, we outline Singapore's emissions profile and latest policy response. We then surface three themes which are indicative of how Singapore's green leadership frames nature as non-agentic and subservient to humans. These themes are: ‘nature as risk producer’, ‘nature as instrument’ and ‘nature's demise as opportunity’. Anthropocentrism and Green Growth The discourse on greening capitalism emerged in the mid-2000s as initiatives by the United Nations Environmental Program, OECD and World Bank. At the Rio + 20 Conference these three organisations released publications promoting green growth with titles that evoked mutual compatibility such as Inclusive Green Growth: The Pathway to Sustainable Development and Toward a Green Economy: Pathways to Sustainable Development and Poverty Eradication. Subsequently, the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change enshrined green growth in the 2015 Paris Agreement in Article 10, paragraph 5, ‘Accelerating, encouraging and enabling innovation is critical for an effective, long-term global response to climate change and promoting economic growth’ (United Nations UNFCCC, 2015: 27). Since then, the prevalence of green growth ideas has accelerated and diffused globally, taken up by states supranational organisations and non-states actors. It has remained a key policy theme at influential climate governance fora. For example, at the recent Green Swan 2023 conference, keynote Sir Nicolas Stern confidently declared that ‘there's no conflict between action on climate change and economic growth. Actually, it's the opposite. Action on climate change will drive economic growth’. Omitted from Sterns's assertion is recognition of the ‘coupling’ effect whereby economic growth has also led to the exploitation of non-humans and a concomitant climate crisis. Green growth approaches view nature as the means to create economic development as measured by GDP. The key assumption is that ‘the environment’ and humans as consumers or workers (see Mildenberger 2020) will both equally benefit through this process of instrumentalisation. The method to achieve the ‘decoupling’ of emissions (or ecological destruction) from GDP is via the application of technologies, investment, markets and innovation. Implementation of these methods will ostensibly redirect capital and production towards the efficient use of resources without disrupting consumption patterns and minimising ‘harm’ to nature. Nature in this framing is characterised as both threatening to humans (‘risk producer’) and simultaneously vulnerable (‘object at risk’). In either case, human beings are presupposed as the agents who will restore the orderliness of life; an orderliness where humans are the dominating species (Ruuska, Heikkurinen and Wilen, 2020) and the state of vulnerability is erased (Schwartz, 2019). At its core green growth is founded on the notion of efficiency gains, but as others (Hickel, 2021; Hickel and Kallis, 2019; Jackson, 2021) have noted, empirically there is no evidence that relative or absolute decoupling will arrest and restore the planet nor reduce carbon emissions permanently to levels that could keep global warming below 1.5 degrees. Efficiency has limitations and at some point, input is required to continue to grow which makes ongoing decoupling in the long-term unsustainable. This calls for an urgent rethinking of policy and the opening up of alternative possibilities such as degrowth or post-growth (Jackson, 2021). However, shifting the paradigm away from wealth accumulation and material prosperity would alter production and consumption patterns. As Hickel and Kallis (2019) remark, this type of transformation would not be politically expedient: ‘The assumption is that it is not politically acceptable to question economic growth and that no nation would voluntary limit growth in the name of the climate or environment; therefore, green growth must be true, since the alternative is disaster’ (2019: 484). Green growth may not only be implausible but it also dangerously reifies dualistic thought-structures that universalises and positions humankind as the privileged, superior species, a tendency which has underpinned the exploitative and extractive relationship between humans and nature that has driven climate change. It also ferments a ‘politics of resignation’ in which citizens tacitly accept harmful externalities (Benson and Kirsch, 2010). In line with post-humanist thought, we perceive nature through a relational lens. From this perspective, ‘nature’ is not a separate entity that exists apart from and below ‘culture’ (e.g., humans, organisations and nation states). Rather nature is understood to be a dynamic, open-ended and interactive ‘living system’ that encompasses all forms of life and matter (Braidotti, 2016). This relational framing of nature is positive in that it attributes agency and vitality to all life and not exclusively to humans and their doings (Braidotti, 2013). In short, more-than-human natures such as the ‘natural environment or ‘atmosphere’ are not tractable or deadened backgrounds for human action but are creative forces that shape life, including our own. In taking this ontological position, post-humanism surfaces and critiques anthropocentric assumptions evident in culture and society (Braidotti, 2013), providing a unique standpoint from which to deconstruct and challenge green growth. Singapore the Green City-StateEmissions Profile Singapore's GHG emissions for 2021 totalled 53 MtCO2e (National Climate Change Secretariat, 2021). In 2000, emissions were 38 MtCO2e and continues to increase over time. These emissions cover direct or primary emissions (Scope 1, 2): energy (39.2%), industry (44.4%), transport (14.2%), building (0.9%), households (0.4%), waste and water (0.6%) and others (0.2%). Secondary or indirect emissions (Scope 3) created within the energy sector from Liquid Natural Gas (LNG) at 94% are mostly in industry (16.6%), buildings (12.6%), household (6.6%) and transport (2.2%). Industry emissions amount to over 60% of Singapore's total emissions of which 75% are from the combustion of fossil fuels by the refining and petrochemicals sector (Tan, 2019). Singapore ranks 27th out of 142 countries in terms of emissions per capita but excluded from official statistics are the emissions from bunkering/marine fuels sales which was 148 MtCO2e in 2020 (The International Council of Clean Transportation, 2022). The rationale for the exclusion is that the UNFCC does not require GHG inventories to include emissions from shipping nor aviation. In 2021 Singapore set a new National Determined Commitment target of limiting GHG emissions in 2030 to 60 MtCO2e from 65 MtCO2e. It also brought forward its emission peak year to sometime ‘before 2030’ and confirmed its target to reach net zero emissions ‘as soon as viable in the second half of the century’ (National Climate Change Secretariat, 2022). Singapore's main mitigation actions were outlined in its long-term low-emission development strategy. These comprise three areas: (a) to transform industry, economy and society; (b) to draw on carbon capture, utilisation and storage and low-carbon fuels; and (c) international collaboration to build carbon markets, carbon storage and regional electricity grids. A key policy lever is Singapore's progressive carbon tax rate which covers 43% of emissions according to Climate Action Tracker (2022). The rate was increased from $5 SGD/tCO2e in 2019 to $25/tCO2e in 2024 and will reach $50–80/tCO2e by 2030. Carbon tax-liable companies are permitted to use carbon credits to offset up to 5% of emissions. However, these credits can only be obtained via the Singapore government's International Carbon Credit Framework under Article 6.2 of the Paris Agreement and not the voluntary carbon market. The tax works on multiple fronts: it drives demand to create a carbon market, derisks companies to increase investor confidence and incentivises decarbonisation efforts in Singapore and in credit producing host countries. Singapore's other mitigation efforts consist of energy efficiency and resource optimisation across industry, households, buildings, waste management and public transport. Green Finance Leader Singapore is positioning itself as Asia's hub for carbon trading. The government outlines this in its most recent master plan for addressing climate change: Singapore Green Plan 2030 (SGP). Launched in 2020, SGP 2030 aims to centre the city-state as a regional ‘leader’ in climate action and sustainable development, aligning with global commitments such as the UN's 2030 Agenda and the Paris Agreement. The plan represents a collective effort across five key ministries, guided by the Inter-Ministerial Committee on Climate Change. It focuses on five pillars: City in Nature, Sustainable Living, Energy Reset, Green Economy and Resilient Future, striving for efficient resource use, low-carbon energy adoption and innovation-driven change. Key initiatives include enhancing green spaces, promoting water conservation, expanding clean public transport and mandating clean energy vehicles by 2030. The Green Economy pillar of the SGP is particularly significant, framing environmental challenges as opportunities for economic growth. This involves incentivising carbon capture technologies and establishing Singapore as a carbon services and trading hub through the Green Finance Action Plan 2022 (Monetary Authority of Singapore, 2022). The plan aims to create a robust green financial ecosystem, making Singapore a global centre for green finance. This includes developing markets for sustainable economic solutions, such as green bonds and insurance products. A study commissioned by the government in 2021 highlighted Singapore's potential to become a carbon trading hub, estimating its value between USD 1.8 billion to USD 5.6 billion by 2050 (Carvalho et al., 2021). As part of its green leadership plan Singapore is also entering into strategic partnerships under Article 6.2 with ‘carbon-rich’, developing countries. It has signed agreements with Vietnam, Bhutan, Paraguay, Papua New Guinea, Fiji, Rwanda, Costa Rica, Ghana, Senegal, Dominican Republic, Colombia, Chile, Cambodia, Indonesia, Kenya, Mongolia, Morocco, Peru and Sri Lanka. It also recently signed a Green Economy Agreement with Australia with the aim to generate demand and facilitate the trading of Australian carbon credits. The aim of these Article 6.2 agreements is to facilitate the trading of Internationally Transferrable Mitigation Outcomes or carbon credits which are generated from the reduction of emissions in one country (e.g., PNG) which is then bought by a second country (e.g., Singapore, New Zealand). However, Singapore's interest extends to the role these partnerships play in helping to establish a trading market in Singapore. In its agreements, Singapore asserts that ‘when completed carbon tax liable companies in Singapore will be able to purchase carbon credits from eligible projects to offset up to 5% of their taxable emission’ (National Climate Change Secretariat, 2023). Article 6.2 partnerships not only help reduce costs for Singapore companies but bring to market a portfolio of credit sellers for trading on Singapore's new trading platform, Climate Impact X. Ecomodernist Themes of Nature A post-humanist perspective on Singapore's ambition to transform into a climate leader surfaces three ecomodernist or green growth themes. These themes are: ‘nature as risk producer’, ‘nature as instrument’ and ‘nature's demise as opportunity’. Across these themes, it is implied that humans take priority and should utilise nature to achieve economic growth. A conventional approach would ignore this dualism and support the instrumentalisation of nature without awareness nor concern that this thought-structure plays a key part in producing climate change. In official organisational documents and speeches regarding Singapore's ambitions to create a global carbon trading hub, Singapore is presented as a model city and a vanguard in terms of environmental actions. Reference is also frequently made to the ‘founding father’, and visionary environmental leader, Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew. Nature as Risk Producer Politicians, officials and industry often, if not always, portray climate change as the result of nature being ‘out of place’ and consequently hostile towards the vulnerable nation-state (Douglas, 1966; Ruuska et al., 2020). For example, below is an extract from the SGP which sets up the catastrophic framing, and two quotes from Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong followed by Grace Fu Minister for Sustainability and the Environment at the COP28: Climate change is an existential threat of our times. It has brought rising sea levels and extreme weather patterns…Singapore, as a low-lying island state, is particularly vulnerable. Our weather is getting warmer, rainstorms heavier, and dry spells more pronounced (Singapore Government). Singapore [is] a low-lying, alternative-energy disadvantaged island-state. We therefore appreciate the inherent challenges in climate transitions. However, we believe that new technologies, new financing models and new markets offer us hope (Ministry of Foreign Affairs Singapore, 2023). Singapore is a small city-state, lacking in renewable energy. We are a low-lying island that is acutely vulnerable to the threat of rising sea levels. We are an urbanised city near the equator, susceptible to rising temperatures (Ministry of Sustainability and the Environment Singapore, 2023). The narrative that nature is a risk producer is a form of spatial anthropocentrism in which Earth and beyond are considered the rightful and exclusive spaces for humans (Ruuska et al., 2020). If nature was tame and in its proper docile place, then humans would not be at risk. The reasonable response to this logic is to put nature back in its place by constructing hard engineering solutions, such as sea walls and defending infrastructure that deliver services to humans (e.g., water, electricity, transport, telecommunication), alongside the use of soft solutions to absorb the costs of rebuilding, for example, via flood insurance. Nature as Green Growth Tool The case of Singapore demonstrates that the objectification of nature is a prerequisite to instrumentalisation. Our second theme – nature as a green growth tool – is evident in Singapore's continuation of its long-standing Garden City strategy: nature to be altered to ensure the material prosperity of the populace and thus maintain PAP's political legitimacy (Barnard and Heng, 2014; Hamilton-Hart, 2006, 2022; Schneider-Mayerson, 2017). For example, in the SGP, former Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew is quoted as follows: Over 100 years ago, this was a mudflat, swamp. Today, this is a modern city. Ten years from now, this will be a metropolis. Never fear (Singapore Government). The SGP then follows this quote from Prime Minister Lee by stating that,…Having advanced from mudflats, to metropolis, we will turn our metropolis into a global city of sustainability (Singapore Government). Today, Singapore is a City in a Garden, and is one of the greenest cities in the world. We set aside large nature reserves, with about a third of our island covered by trees. We knew public cleanliness and hygiene were important to prevent diseases in our hot and humid urban environment and took tough measures to enforce them (Singapore Government). There is a direct link made between using nature as a tool and nation building. As a consequence of this argument, any opposition to Singapore's ‘global’ ambitions could be viewed as a threat to the state, unpatriotic and regressive. The use of nature as instrument for green growth is most stark under the Green Economy pillar. Nature's Demise as Opportunity The third theme evident in Singapore's attempts to position itself as a ‘green leader’ also concerns the instrumentalisation of nature but takes it a step further, with nature's destruction as a result of anthropogenic climate change being presented as a means to stimulate economic development. In the SGP, four of the pillars focus on efficiency and optimising production and consumption of natural resources. However, the Green Economy pillar not only seeks to capitalise on nature but intends to prosper from its demise. The discourse on the climate crisis is rewoven as a narrative about ‘seizing’ opportunities from the climate crisis and the ensuring there is pressure on states and corporates to act. Similar to disaster capitalism, the impacts of climate change are a new business venture for Singapore to advance its developmentalist approach. Below are instances of this discourse: As the world transits to a low-carbon future, there are many exciting new opportunities in the green economy. For instance, the increasing demand for green financing and carbon services will create good jobs and new opportunities for our enterprises (Ministry of Trade and Industry Singapore, 2022). Singapore's Green Plan aims to harness sustainability as ‘a new engine of growth’ …Under the plan, the Singaporean government will lead and drive all economic actors to make the transition toward more sustainable economic models, including establishing the country as a hub for green finance, carbon trading and sustainability consultancy (Wangkiat, 2021). We must seek out new areas of cooperation. This will allow us to deepen collaboration while also strengthening our relevance as a global business hub. Sustainability is one area where there are interesting opportunities for growth and strong potential for international collaboration. Green financing, carbon services, and trading are some examples of the new industries that we can look forward to in the green economy (Ministry of Trade and Industry Singapore, 2023). Singapore is unequivocal in highlighting the competitive advantage that the climate crisis holds for the state. This intensification of the instrumentalism of its Garden City strategy serves not only to commodify but also to financialise climate change. As Ergene, Banerjee and Hoffman (2021: 1320) remark, ‘The Anthropocene is not a story of unintended consequences but is a direct result of a political economy that privileges wealth accumulation at the expense of environmental destruction’. The growth imperative inherent in capitalism relies on the appropriation of nature's ‘resources’ at a low-cost despite ecological consequences. Capitalism seeks to exploit ‘cheap’ resources, including land, labour and energy. This pursuit of cheap inputs is founded on the ontological separation between humans and nature, and the devaluing of nature and some humans compared to others. Capitalism unleashes ‘a “metabolic rift” in the relationship between humans and the earth, resulting in an environmental crisis that now threatens the very basis of life on the planet’ (Wright et al., 2018: p. 459; see also Foster, 2012; Nyberg et al., 2022). Conclusion The three themes explored above underscore how Singapore continues to conceptualise nature as ‘other’. The current understanding of ‘green leader’ and what is legitimate and required in order to be considered ‘green’ maintains a primarily economically centred political agenda. This ‘ecomodernist leadership’ regime is preoccupied by quantitative measures of a known and knowable nature. In short, being ‘green’ requires the improvement of these numbers in directions agreed as beneficial to both the economic and environmental systems they reflect and relate to. Such instrumentalism provides one means towards green futures, but we would argue that this dangerously reifies the dualistic exploitative relations that underpin climate change (e.g., Moore, 2016). Green growth and other notions of ‘greening’ (e.g., Green Economy, Green Finance) do not alter the problematic of anthropocentrism but rather propagate and support a Promethean logic (Dryzek, 2022). So, although Singapore's portion of global emissions is small at 0.1%, we would suggest that Singapore's contribution to climate change extends beyond this number due to its green leadership stance and practices. 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For several years, Egypt – which recently announced that Hamas had accepted a ceasefire proposal negotiated in Cairo – has been playing a mediating role in the conflict in Gaza. As the only Arab country sharing a border with the Palestinian enclave, Egypt pursues strategic objectives that combine security concerns and domestic constraints – goals that are under pressure from Israel's expansionist policy. In the absence of a diplomatic solution, the situation in Gaza could have unpredictable consequences for the regime of Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi, whose options, in the face of public opinion, remain limited to avoid the accusation of indifference and to mask its impotence against Tel Aviv. On August 18th, the announcement of a ceasefire accepted by Hamas, negotiated in Cairo based on a U.S. plan, highlighted the mediating role played by the Egyptian authorities in the war waged by Israel in Gaza. This role remains essential, even though Qatar's actions have often received more media attention due to the emirate's proximity to Hamas. A key and historical role as a mediator  Without going back to the creation of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) or the Egyptian-Israeli peace agreements of 1979, Cairo has long been an essential player in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict due to its negotiation capacity between Israel and the Palestinians. Hosni Mubarak's Egypt (1981-2011) played a major role in most agreements concluded between the PLO and Israel after Oslo (1993) and was active in maintaining a channel of discussion with Israel during the Second Intifada (2000-2005). After Hamas's victory in the Palestinian legislative elections of 2006 and its takeover of Gaza in 2007, Egypt intervened in bilateral negotiations both between Hamas and Fatah and between Hamas and Israel during the conflicts of 2008-2009, 2012, 2014, and 2021, in which the victims were mostly civilians. The rise to power of Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi in 2014, following the overthrow of President Mohamed Morsi (2013), who was from the Muslim Brotherhood, created tensions with Hamas, which is close to the Islamist movement. Adjustments were necessary, but Egyptian intelligence maintained a discreet connection with Hamas and continued to carry out mediation missions with Israel or with Mahmoud Abbas's Palestinian Authority. Since October 7, 2023, alongside Qatar and the United States (the only actor able to pressure Israel), Egypt is once again at the heart of negotiations, whether they take place in Doha or Cairo. A first agreement under the sponsorship of the three states was reached in January 2025. Previously, in December 2024, Egypt had negotiated an agreement between Fatah and Hamas to establish an autonomous administration at the end of the war. A red line against Israeli expansionism?  In recent days, in light of Israel's expansionist policy, Egypt has made numerous statements regarding the situation in Gaza. The authorities in Cairo have expressed support for the establishment of an international peacekeeping force mandated by the UN, while denying rumors that they had proposed a transfer of Hamas's weapons to Egypt. In Rafah (Egypt), in an interview with CNN, Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty reaffirmed the rejection of a massive relocation of Palestinians, which he described as a 'red line.'  Earlier, President Al-Sisi had crossed a rhetorical threshold by denouncing a 'war of famine and genocide' and reiterated his refusal of any relocation plan. Egypt is also supporting the South African complaint to the International Court of Justice for violation of the Genocide Convention, without joining the stakeholders. These statements come in a dual context of a blockage of negotiations and an acceleration of Israeli operations, with Israeli territorial ambitions that could signify the end of any possibility for a two-state solution and a massive displacement of people outside of Palestine, particularly towards Egypt. The ceasefire negotiated in Cairo by Egyptian and Qatari mediators largely echoed the plan of Donald Trump's special envoy, Steve Witkoff, and thus represents a real advancement compared to the situation in early June, when the United States, along with Israel, had rejected the proposal made by Hamas to implement a truce. An advancement that, however, has not resulted in a breakthrough: a week later, Israel has still not responded to the negotiators' proposal. The announcement of the ceasefire accepted by Hamas comes as the Israeli security cabinet approved, on August 8, a plan to take control of Gaza and as the UN, after several warnings, declared a state of famine in the Gaza Strip. Various Egyptian statements also resonate with the vision of a 'Greater Israel' recently put forward by Benjamin Netanyahu, referring to the biblical borders of Israel that include territories currently belonging to Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria, as well as part of the Sinai Peninsula. The idea of relocating the Palestinian population outside of Gaza is not new, although it has been rather marginal until now. Recently, Netanyahu has publicly considered relocating Gazans to Arab countries or Africa (negotiations in this regard have been mentioned several times). The Sinai, a key security issue for Egypt  Egypt, which shares a 14-kilometer border with the Palestinian enclave, the "Philadelphian corridor," is also a security player because it plays a key role, almost literally, in the blockade imposed by Israel on the Gaza Strip (both in terms of its maintenance and/or its easing).  In this regard, Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi's Egypt is not spared from criticism that denounces its inaction while, on the other side of the border, the war waged by Israel increasingly resembles ethnic cleansing, if not genocide.  The grievances are numerous and particularly concern the blocking of supplies at the Rafah crossing into Palestinian territory, the security treatment reserved for Gaza refugees – about 100,000 Palestinians have sought refuge in Egypt since the beginning of the war, paying high fees to the Hala company, which specializes in the 'coordination' of the Rafah crossing – as well as the security management of pro-Gaza protests, both in Cairo and in Sinai. It should be noted that Egypt administered Gaza from 1948 to 1967, before the strip came under Israeli control. Since then, Cairo's stance towards Gaza has always been deeply influenced by the situation in Sinai, a large desert area where the border between Egypt and Gaza is located. Occupied by Israel in 1967 following the Six-Day War (at the same time as the Gaza Strip), Sinai was recovered by Egypt in 1982. Underdeveloped territory with inadequate infrastructure, Sinai has been, for decades, a trafficking zone between Egypt, Israel, and Gaza.   As can be seen on this map, it is in the extreme northeast of the Sinai Peninsula that the border between Egypt and the Gaza Strip is located. Peter Hermes Furian/Shutterstock After 2011, a local jihadist movement, which joined the Islamic State in 2014, thrived there before being gradually contained by the Egyptian army after a "dirty war" that resulted in several thousand casualties (more than 3,200 deaths among security forces, while the number of civilian casualties is unknown). Sisi proclaimed victory in 2023, with operations ending between 2019 and 2020. For Cairo, the management of Gaza is primarily a security issue. It involves containing trafficking, preventing the infiltration of armed groups more radical than Hamas, the most active of which is the Islamic Jihad, and avoiding an influx of Palestinian refugees, due to its logistical inability to organize such reception. Beyond the logistical question, Egyptian leaders fear a situation that could turn into a de facto state. They have in mind the Lebanese and Jordanian precedents, where the settlement of Palestinian refugees led to the events of Black September in the Hashemite Kingdom and to the civil war in the Land of the Cedar. This position is longstanding. As early as 2008, the forced entry of thousands of Palestinians into Sinai was perceived as a transgression of national sovereignty, a repetition of which must be avoided "at all costs."  Nevertheless, Egypt denies participating in the blockade or being inactive in the face of the tragedy experienced by the Palestinians. President Sisi himself responded to these accusations, reminding that it is Israel that has bombed the Rafah crossing multiple times and controls the Palestinian side of Rafah. Israel, which withdrew from Gaza in 2005, regained control of the Philadelphia corridor in May 2024. Egyptian media, echoing the government's talking points, emphasize the humanitarian convoys sent from Egypt: over 45,000 trucks, accounting for 70% of humanitarian aid, have reportedly supplied Gaza since October 2023 (noting that the crossings can only occur with Israel's agreement and under its security conditions). Between external constraints and internal pressures On the Palestinian issue, Egypt advocates for the establishment of a Palestinian state within the framework of a two-state solution. This is a historical positioning, defined by Anwar El-Sadat in his speech to the Knesset in November 1978. It translates into diplomatic actions, but since 2008, each Israeli war in Gaza highlights the limited scope of Egyptian engagement. However, for Sisi, this engagement comes with domestic constraints. The desperate situation of Gazans resonates widely in Egypt as well as throughout the region and provokes a strong sense of solidarity. Here too, the Egyptian government is caught in its contradictions. For many Egyptians, Hamas is not so much a terrorist movement as a resistance movement against Israel: indeed, even Cairo has not classified it as a terrorist organization, unlike the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood. On one hand, the Egyptian authorities repress any demonstration that they do not organize themselves and that could challenge the regime. There is a mistrust of the street that refers to the importance of mobilizations supporting Palestinians in the militant trajectory that led to the 2011 revolution. On the other hand, the president and the government must take into account public opinion’s sensitivity and show that they are not powerless. In this regard, accepting the relocation of Palestinians in Sinai would make them accomplices in the eyes of Egyptians. In any case, Egypt's role seems hardly able to go beyond humanitarian aid and diplomatic negotiations. Peace with Israel remains a pillar of Egyptian foreign policy. Cairo will not jeopardize its bilateral relationship with Israel to the point of threatening to enter into armed conflict with it. Not only for economic reasons, or because part of Egypt's gas supplies depend on Israel – even if these can represent a leverage. In many aspects, the alliance with Israel is crucial for Sisi: beyond the support that Netanyahu was able to provide him by pleading his case in Washington after the coup against Morsi (2013), the Hebrew state is an economic partner, but also a security partner in the fight against jihadist groups still present in the Sinai. While red lines are stated, no real threat has been made.  However, rumors from government sources had circulated in February 2024: they spoke of the threat of a suspension of the peace treaty in the event of an Israeli invasion of Rafah. Alas, Israeli troops have occupied the border area since May 2024 without Egypt reacting in any way other than verbally. It seems particularly unlikely that the Egyptian army could be mobilized to intervene outside of a UN framework and without Israel’s consent. Diplomacy so as not to appear either indifferent or powerless?  It will be understood, therefore, that Egypt's recent statements are part of a long-term policy and do not indicate a change in direction. Israel's expansionist policy puts Egypt's strategic objectives under tension: the establishment of a Palestinian state as part of a two-state solution, the preservation of Egypt's sovereignty in Sinai and its security, and finally, the support of Egyptian public opinion.  While Israel responded to Cairo's announcement by mobilizing 60,000 reservists to carry out its plan to occupy Gaza, the question of the sustainability of this balancing act arises and exposes Cairo to reality. Alone, Sisi's regime can do nothing against Israel. While it is unlikely that the Egyptian president will take the risk of opposing militarily, he seems destined to appear indifferent or powerless. A humiliation on the Gaza issue could be costly for the autocrat internally and have dramatic consequences for the region. Therefore, Egypt is left with only the diplomatic path to get out of the rut. First, negotiate a ceasefire and then find an alternative solution to the Israeli occupation of Gaza. The latter could require Egypt's return to the Gaza Strip. But is Egypt really ready to play its part in a solution for Gaza beyond diplomatic negotiations?

The 2025 Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) Summit in Tianjin turned out to be the largest gathering in the institution’s history, convening 20 foreign leaders and 10 heads of international organisations, including United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres. More than a display of institutional breadth, the summit served as a stage for geopolitical signalling, most visibly through the joint presence of the leaders of China, India, and Russia. Their highly choreographed meetings were designed for maximum optics and deployed as deliberate instruments of international messaging, reflecting the emergence of a multipolar world. For Russian President Vladimir Putin, the summit provided an opportunity to engage closely with both India and China while demonstrating that Moscow is not bereft of partners. Chinese President Xi Jinping aimed to use the occasion to burnish his credentials as the architect of an emergent political and economic order. Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, however, conveyed a distinct and calculated message — that Indian foreign policy is rebalancing its strategic relations with the world’s major powers and restoring its posture to the centre. In doing so, New Delhi is translating its long-proclaimed doctrine of multi-alignment into practice, positioning itself as a pivotal actor in an increasingly multipolar system. Strategic Leverage  Since the end of the Cold War, Indian foreign policy has been adjusting by building its ties with the West in general and the US in particular. To illustrate in just one domain, New Delhi has purchased an array of advanced US systems, including C-17 and C-130 strategic airlift aircraft, P-8I maritime patrol planes, Chinook, Apache, and MH-60R helicopters, F404/414 engines, and MQ-9 drones, transactions that together totalled $24 billion between 2000 and 2024. This surge in US acquisitions has coincided with a marked decline in Russian influence: Moscow’s share of India’s arms imports fell from 76 per cent during 2009–2013 to just 36 per cent over the past five years. India’s pivot toward the US, and its rapid defence and economic diversification have kept Beijing on edge. During the Cold War, China extracted substantial strategic and economic benefits while playing a swing-state role between Washington and Moscow. Today, Chinese observers worry that India may play a similar role as its vaunted strategic autonomy has given way to a de facto US alignment, visible in defence procurement, economic cooperation, and a network of mini-laterals aimed at constraining Beijing. However, this narrative has softened somewhat after President Trump imposed a 50 per cent tariff on Indian exports, introducing a note of friction into the US-India equation. Against this backdrop, New Delhi and Beijing, cautiously engaging since the 2024 Kazan Summit, have stepped up their rapprochement efforts. At their bilateral meeting in Tianjin, both sides signalled a clear desire to restore stability and predictability: The focus on peace along the border and rebuilding mutual trust was unmistakable. Mr Xi emphasised strengthened communication, expanded exchanges, and multilateral cooperation, all aimed at returning bilateral relations to a pre-2020 baseline. Mr Modi, visiting China after seven years, framed a peaceful border as essential to the smooth development of the broader relationship. He also ensured that counterterrorism remained front and centre at the SCO, with the final Tianjin Declaration explicitly and emphatically condemning the Pahalgam terror attack in India. Structural Tension Vs Strategic Triangulation Beneath the polished optics, the India-China standoff remains unresolved. Around 60,000 troops on each side still face off along the Line of Actual Control, and Tianjin offered no concrete road map for demobilisation or border delimitation. Disputes over Pakistan, Tibet, and Taiwan persist, a reminder that diplomacy cannot paper over deep strategic fissures. Strategic triangulation adds another layer of complexity. Both capitals have long leveraged ties with third powers to boost bargaining power and extract economic or diplomatic advantage. Beijing seeks a show of unity with India against Washington’s tariffs but remains wary: If New Delhi secures a better deal, alignment with the US is always on the table. Institutionally, the SCO continues to lag behind Brics in global visibility, yet its operational significance is rising. China’s trade with SCO members hit $512.4 billion in 2024, doubling the 2018 level. Therefore, Mr Xi’s advocacy for a “new type of international relations”, coupled with initiatives such as the SCO Development Bank and multilateral cooperation in energy, infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and the digital economy, reflects a strategic calculus: to insulate Beijing from the volatility of Washington while steering the engines of future economic growth. Ultimately, the India-China meeting in Tianjin exemplified a nuanced balancing act: cooperation where feasible, vigilance where imperative, and a stark reminder that even as optics improve, the underlying geopolitical chessboard remains fiercely contested. Conclusion Mr Modi’s Tianjin visit and his meeting with Mr Xi signalled New Delhi’s growing international leverage. The summit remains low on concrete agreements, but it revitalised efforts to normalise ties and restart Chinese investment in India. Therefore, visa restrictions are loosening, direct flights are set to resume, and barriers to Chinese exports of fertiliser, machinery, and rare earths are gradually falling. Beneath the diplomatic optics, however, structural competition between India and China persists. Nevertheless, New Delhi is carefully striving to avoid overreliance on Washington, resisting a return to single-nation dependency. The India-China-Russia camaraderie on display in Tianjin sends a deliberate signal: Indian foreign policy will not be shy to reclaim its centrist, multi-aligned stance, leveraging strategic autonomy to navigate a complex, multipolar world. This commentary originally appeared in Business Standard.