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Diplomacy
Joe Biden with Prime Minister of India Narendra Modi

Modi in Washington: A Symbolic Visit for a Substantive Partnership

by Husain Haqqani , Aparna Pande

Officials from the United States and India occasionally have some difficult private conversations about Ukraine and India’s domestic politics. But the official state visit this week by Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi to the U.S. will mainly be about showcasing the strength of the two countries’ burgeoning partnership.   Modi and President Joe Biden both need the optics of a visit rich in symbolism to demonstrate the substantive achievements of a relationship based on shared concerns about China and multi-billion dollar deals in technology and defense. Modi wants to highlight his standing as a world leader ahead of the 2024 Indian election. Biden wants to underline that, contrary to the criticism of some, he does have a plan to deal with China’s rise and the U.S. has lined up partners and allies to execute that plan. Indian prime ministers have been regular visitors to Washington D.C. since India’s independence in 1947. But Modi’s visit is only the third time an Indian prime minister will be given official state visit protocol, including a state banquet at the White House on June 22.  The fifth Indian prime minister to address a joint session of Congress, Modi will be the only Indian leader to do so for a second time. Indians will be thrilled by the attention given to their prime minister, and the speeches about shared values and similar strategic vision of the world’s oldest and largest democracies will play well in the Indian media.  But the visit will not be about just pomp and show. Trade in goods and services between India and the U.S. reached $190 billion last year and the U.S. is now India’s largest trading partner. Companies from the two countries have made significant investments across borders and Indian and American enjoy close people-to-people ties. Moreover, the U.S. is keen to “friendshore” with India to deal with the threat America sees in China’s rise, and to ensure supply-chain resilience. This involves shifting the manufacturing of certain critical components from China to friendly countries, especially India. The U.S. is funding Indian technology startups and infrastructure projects from its $200 billion Partnership for Global Infrastructure and Investment (PGII) Fund.  India, as the world’s most populous country, represents a large potential market for U.S. companies currently reducing their Chinese presence. When Air India, India’s largest airline, decided to purchase 220 Boeing aircraft in a $34 billion deal, Biden celebrated, saying it “will support over 1 million American jobs across 44 states, and many will not require a four-year college degree.” U.S. aerospace and military industries have wanted a greater share of the Indian market for years.  This January, India and the U.S. announced the launch of the U.S.-India Initiative on Critical and Emerging Technologies (iCET) to the pave the way for “technology value-chain partnerships that would lead to co-development and co-production of high technology products and services in both countries,” in the words of National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan.  During a recent visit to Delhi by Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, a defense industrial roadmap was unveiled, reflecting an American willingness to share state-of-the-art technology with India. But India wants to build an indigenous defense industry and is keen on American technology and investment, while the U.S. wants India to stop purchasing military equipment from Russia and buy more from the United States. Historically, that divergence has resulted in announcements that have not always resulted in implementation.  For the Modi visit, the two sides have planned two key defense related deliverables: the purchase by India of 30 General Atomics-manufactured Predator or MQ9B Sea Guardian drones for $3 billion, and an agreement between General Electric and Hindustan Aeronautics Limited to coproduce GE-F414 turbofan engines for India’s indigenous Tejas Mark-2 fighter jet. India and the U.S. have a long way to go before reaching the $500 billion mark in bilateral trade, which experts see as the future potential of the trade relationship. Americans blame India’s default preference for protectionism, reluctance to offer a level playing field to domestic and foreign players, strict digital privacy rules, and historical skepticism towards free and open trade. Indians complain that America is used to allies who are junior partners, not a country that is not an ally and wants to be treated as an equal. India is not alone in that view in an era when several powers want recognition and are showing a preference for economic and technology partnerships, rather than military alliances.  India is not a treaty ally of the United States, but a partner that prides itself on its strategic autonomy and one that has reservations about how it was treated by U.S. officials in the past. The closest equivalent of that in U.S. experience from the Cold War era would be France under the Gaullists. But just as the U.S. overcame its reservations about real or perceived French prickliness in the interest of preserving the Atlantic Alliance, Americans realize the importance of India in their plans for maintaining a rules-based international order.

Defense & Security
The missiles are aimed at the sky at sunset. Nuclear bomb, chemical weapons, missile defense, a system of salvo fire

The Role Of Umbrella States In The Global Nuclear Order

by Dr Tytti Erästö

I. Introduction  This paper focuses on countries having extended nuclear deterrence arrangements with a nuclear-armed patron from whom they have received a nuclear security guarantee. Extended nuclear deterrence is often called a ‘nuclear umbrella’—a metaphor that hardly captures the risks inherent in nuclear deterrence practices—and the non-nuclear weapon states belonging to an alliance with such arrangements are commonly referred to as ‘umbrella’ states. As of 4 April 2023, upon the accession of Finland to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), 31 countries were relying on the extended nuclear deterrence provided by the United States or, at the least, were accepting nuclear weapons as part of the mix of military capabilities intended to create a collective deterrent effect. In the absence of a ‘no first use’ policy, this means that the USA could use nuclear weapons to respond not only to a nuclear attack but also to an act of conventional aggression against its non-nuclear-armed allies. The USA is not the only country providing nuclear security guarantees to its allies: recently, Russia claimed to have included Belarus under its respective nuclear umbrella.   Umbrella states base their security on military capabilities that include the nuclear weapons of other countries, and in some cases, they also host nuclear weapons and take part in military exercises simulating their use. Thus far, the role of the umbrella states in the global nuclear order has received relatively little attention, and they are generally categorised as non-nuclear weapon states. Their agency in maintaining or potentially changing the existing nuclear order tends to be downplayed and overshadowed by that of nuclear-armed states. However, umbrella states received some attention at the Tenth Review Conference of the Parties to the 1968 Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (Non-Proliferation Treaty, NPT). At the conference, held in 2022, Parties to the Treaty discussed whether to recognize ‘the importance for States parties that are part of military alliances that include nuclear-weapon States to report . . . on steps taken to reduce and eliminate the role of nuclear weapons in national and collective security doctrines’. Owing to resistance by the USA and several of its allies to create a third category of states alongside nuclear weapon states and nonnuclear weapon states, this reference was ultimately removed from the draft outcome document.  The discussions at the 2022 NPT Review Conference reflected the current context, wherein greater military value is being placed on nuclear weapons, including by umbrella states. Provided that Sweden’s application to join NATO—which it submitted in 2022 together with Finland’s application—is accepted, the number of countries under the extended nuclear deterrence arrangements of the USA will increase to 32. At the same time, US allies in the Asia-Pacific region are responding to perceived threats from China and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK, or North Korea) with increasing calls for the redeployment of US non-strategic nuclear weapons to the region. Reflecting its concerns about potential new nuclear weapon deployments in Asia, China was vocal in opposing US nuclear hosting arrangements at the 2022 NPT Review Conference. That an increasing number of non-nuclear weapon states see security value in nuclear weapons does not bode well for the global nuclear dis armament and non-proliferation regime. The development also highlights the need to better understand how the policies of umbrella states affect the global nuclear order. That order is characterized by the continuation of nuclear deterrence practices by the world’s nine nuclear-armed states despite a shared understanding of the devastating planetary-scale humanitarian and environmental risks involved in such practices and the consequent need for nuclear disarmament.  Taking a broad historical perspective, this paper explores the ways in which umbrella states both in the Asia-Pacific region and in Europe have supported prevailing nuclear deterrence practices or, at times, distanced themselves from such practices and broken ranks with their allies on relevant issues. The goal of the paper is to assess the scope of umbrella states’ agency in maintaining, shaping, and potentially challenging the global nuclear status quo in support of nuclear disarmament. II. Endorsing nuclear deterrence through policy and practice  This section examines policies through which umbrella states support and contribute to the prevailing nuclear deterrence practices or have done so in the past. Such policies provide support that ranges from operational, which sees allies directly involved in such practices, to political, which is better understood in terms of moral burden-sharing. While such policies serve to maintain and legitimize the existing nuclear status quo, in some cases the endorsement by umbrella states of nuclear deterrence has moved beyond supporting the status quo to calling for new nuclear sharing arrangements or outright nuclear proliferation.  Operational support for nuclear deterrence practices  Umbrella states can provide operational support to their nuclear-armed patron for nuclear deterrence practices by hosting nuclear weapons and related facilities, participating in military exercises simulating nuclear strikes, conducting joint flights with strategic bombers, and engaging in planning and consultation on nuclear weapons-related issues. Given the broad nature of existing bilateral and multilateral consultation mechanisms, which also cover issues such as arms control, it is sometimes difficult to draw a boundary line between operational and political support.  Nuclear weapon hosting  During the cold war, the USA stationed non-strategic nuclear weapons in the territories of several of its Asia-Pacific and European allies. In Europe, the first such weapons were deployed in 1954 in the United Kingdom and West Germany to complement the deterrence provided by US strategic (long-range) nuclear weapons, which was deemed insufficient against the Soviet Union’s overwhelming conventional power. In 1958, the first nuclear sharing agreements were established, meaning that European allies would not only host US nuclear weapons but also take control of and launch such weapons against their            bintended targets during times of crisis. By the mid1960s, Belgium, France, Greece, Italy, the Netherlands, and Türkiye were hosting various types of non-strategic nuclear weapon under NATO nuclear sharing arrangements. By 1971, there were 7300 forward-deployed nuclear weapons in Europe. In addition to the eight above-mentioned European countries, the USA also stationed nuclear weapons in the Danish territory of Greenland (see section III below). The deployments in Europe coincided with deployments elsewhere in the world. In Asia and the Pacific, the USA stationed nuclear weapons in the late 1950s in the Philippines, South Korea, and Taiwan, as well as in overseas territories of the USA. The largest deployments were in South Korea and the Japanese island of Okinawa, with the number of warheads hosted by the country and island respectively peaking at almost 1000 in the late 1960s. Most of these weapons had been withdrawn by the late 1970s; South Korea remained the only host state in the Asia-Pacific region in the following decade. The USA also deployed non-strategic nuclear weapons in Morocco in the 1950s and Canada in the 1960s. The Soviet Union deployed non-strategic nuclear weapons in all of its 15 republics as well as in some of its Warsaw Pact allies. Starting in the late 1950s and continuing over the following decade, non-strategic nuclear weapons were gradually deployed in Czechoslovakia, East Germany, Hungary, and Poland. All of these weapons had been withdrawn by the early 1990s. During the remainder of that decade, the strategic nuclear weapons that had been hosted in Belarus, Kazakhstan and Ukraine were also withdrawn.  With the end of the cold war, forward-deployed non-strategic nuclear weapons effectively lost their raison d’être, particularly in Europe. Reflecting the new geopolitical context, in the early 1990s the USA unilaterally withdrew most of its non-strategic nuclear weapons from allied countries. In South Korea, the nuclear hosting arrangement ended completely. While NATO nuclear sharing continued, only the air-delivered B61 bombs remained and their numbers were reduced, while all other non-strategic nuclear weapon types were removed from Europe.  In 2001, the B61 weapons were removed from Greece. In the years that followed, the military value of the non-strategic US nuclear weapons that still remained in five NATO countries was frequently called into question. As noted in a 2005 US study, ‘Nuclear burden sharing in NATO, in as far as host country nuclear strike missions are concerned, is on a slow but steady decline toward ending altogether’. The political momentum for ending nuclear sharing was at its highest during the administration of US president Barack Obama, whose vision for a nuclear weapon-free world arguably inspired some allies to more vocally argue for the withdrawal of non-strategic nuclear weapons from Europe. Yet, the same US administration also pushed back against and, as it seems, silenced such critical voices (see section III below).  Today, an estimated 100 non-strategic nuclear weapons remain stationed in five European countries—Belgium, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, and Türkiye—and the USA is modernizing its B61 bombs. The nuclear weapon hosting states, with the exception of Türkiye, plan to replace their ageing dual-capable aircraft with F-35 aircraft, which will enable use of the precision strike feature of the new B61-12 bombs. As before, allies are responsible for delivering these weapons during a crisis. Since 1976, US gravity bombs in Europe have included electronic locks (permissive action links, PALs) to reduce the risk of unauthorized use. The delegation of authority for nuclear weapon use from the USA to its allies is based on a dual key system: following an agreement by the NATO Nuclear Planning Group (NPG) and authorization by the US president, US military personnel at allied bases would deactivate the PALs, handing over control of the weapons to pilots of the weapon hosting states.  As noted above, China recently raised its opposition to NATO nuclear weapon hosting practices, reflecting its apparent concerns about the prospect of US non-strategic nuclear weapons being redeployed in Asia. Russia, alongside China and other countries, has long argued that NATO’s nuclear sharing policy is not in accordance with Articles I and II of the NPT. Russia’s normative case against NATO nuclear sharing is, however, currently undermined by its own plans to share nuclear weapons with Belarus. Echoing the arguments of the USA in this regard, Russia maintains that the weapons will remain under Russian control, hence the arrangement—announced in March 2023—will be in line with international non-proliferation obligations. According to Russian President Vladimir Putin, the construction of nuclear weapon storage facilities in Belarus is to be completed by July 2023. Russia reportedly provided Belarus with dual capable Iskander missiles and modified Belarusian Su-25 bombers to enable them to carry nuclear weapons prior to the March announcement. Military exercises simulating tactical nuclear strikes  Some umbrella states that do not host nuclear weapons nevertheless actively contribute to nuclear sharing by taking part in military exercises involving dual-capable aircraft. NATO’s Support of Nuclear Operations with Conventional Air Tactics (SNOWCAT) programme comprises a unique form of such participation. In SNOWCAT missions, allies provide conventional aircraft to escort dual-capable aircraft, and they also provide surveillance and refuelling. The aim of the exercises is to practise nuclear strike operations.  In 2022, 14 allies were reported as having participated in the annual SNOWCAT exercise called Steadfast Noon. While NATO does not reveal the participating countries, in previous years they have reportedly included at least Czechia and Poland alongside host states and nuclear-armed states. In addition, Denmark confirmed its participation in the 2022 exercise, and Greece too seems to have taken part.  Joint flights with strategic bombers  US nuclear sharing arrangements are limited to Europe, hence there is no programme comparable to SNOWCAT in other regions. According to a 2011 report, ‘There are no nuclear weapons–related exercises conducted between the United States and the military forces’ in umbrella states in Asia. However, US allies in the Asia-Pacific region frequently fly with US strategic B-2 and B-52  bombers to signal deterrence to regional adversaries. For example, US B-52 bombers were ‘met with and escorted by’ Japanese F-15J combat aircraft in August 2021, and accompanied by South Korean F-35As and F-15Ks in December 2022. Australia has also taken part in joint flights with US strategic aircraft, as have NATO allies in Europe. Even countries that are not part of extended nuclear deterrence arrangements—including Indonesia, Israel, Saudi Arabia and Sweden—have been involved in this practice.  Thus far, the B-52s used in regional operations in Asia and the Pacific have only been deployed rotationally in the US territory of Guam. However, Australia is currently expanding a military air base in its Northern Territory with the intention of hosting US B-52 bombers. Once completed, the base would appear to be only the second one of its kind outside US territory (after Royal Air Force, RAF, Fairford in the UK) and the first one of its kind in an umbrella state.  Consultation and planning  All NATO members other than France are involved in collective decision making on nuclear weapon-related issues through their participation in the NPG. The NPG ‘provides a forum in which NATO member countries can participate in the development of the Alliance’s nuclear policy and in decisions on NATO’s nuclear posture’. Discussions under the NPG cover issues such as ‘the overall effectiveness of NATO’s nuclear deterrent, the safety, security and survivability of nuclear weapons, and communications and information systems’. The mandate of the NPG also covers arms control and non-proliferation.  Various observers have characterized the group’s main function broadly in terms of information-sharing and the establishment of ‘NATO’s common nuclear deterrence culture’. While the NATO line is that participation in the NPG is not limited to members that maintain nuclear weapons, one source points to ‘an unwritten rule that only the stationing countries speak up in NPG meetings’.  The NPG was established in 1966 primarily in response to the concerns of European host states about plans for the use of the non-strategic nuclear weapons on their territory and the desire of these countries to become more involved in relevant decision making. After having been first limited to host states, the NPG was later expanded to include other NATO allies. The participation of the latter countries was viewed by nuclear weapon states as a valuable contribution to political or moral burden-sharing.  With the salience of nuclear weapons decreasing for much of the post-cold-war period, NPG meetings became less frequent. In addition, during this period, unlike during the cold war, the group’s work no longer involved ‘nuclear planning in the strict sense of targeting’. However, the role of nuclear weapons in NATO policy has been increasing following Russia’s invasions of Ukraine in 2014 and 2022, which has also impacted the NPG’s work and increased the group’s visibility. For a long time, nuclear consultations were unique to NATO; no mechanism similar to the NPG existed between the USA and its allies in the Asia-Pacific region. In the words of one observer, ‘US alliance relations in Asia as a whole developed in a considerably more hierarchical fashion, arranged in a hub-and-spoke model in which Washington dealt bilaterally and from a position of strength with each allied government rather than collectively through a single multilateral alliance’. However, over the past decade, the USA has also conducted bilateral consultations with Australia, Japan, and South Korea, based on these allies’ desire to gain more insight into and influence in US nuclear weapons-related policy. Plans have also been made to extend such consultations to a trilateral (Japan, South Korea, and the USA) or a quadrilateral (as for trilateral but including Australia) format.  One forum for bilateral nuclear consultation is the US–Japan Extended Deterrence Dialogue, which was established in 2010. Similarly, to the NPG, the dialogue ‘provides an opportunity . . . to discuss regional security, Alliance defense posture, nuclear and missile defense policy, and arms control issues, and to engage in an in-depth exchange of views on means to enhance as well as deepen mutual understanding on alliance deterrence’. South Korea and the USA, in turn, have conducted nuclear consultations under their Deterrence Strategy Committee and Extended Deterrence Strategy and Consultation Group. These consultations were apparently expanded or replaced with a new—more substantive—mechanism in April 2023, when US President Joe Biden announced in a joint press briefing with his South Korean counterpart, President Yoon Suk-Yeol, that the two countries had ‘agreed to establish a Nuclear Consultative Group to map out a specific plan to operate the new extended deterrence system’. In addition to sharing information on ‘mutual nuclear assets and intelligence’, this new system would also cover ‘ways to plan and execute joint operations that combine Korea’s state-of-the-art conventional forces with the US’s nuclear capabilities’. The announcement followed controversial statements by the South Korean president that suggested the country might be considering the acquisition of nuclear weapons of its own (see below).  Possibly reflective of the greater need for reassurance related to extended nuclear deterrence based mainly on US strategic nuclear weapons, the bilateral consultations of the USA with both Japan and South Korea have included visits and tours to familiarize these allies with US strategic weapons delivery vehicles. Moreover, the new US–South Korean Nuclear Consultative Group that was announced in April includes visits by South Korean officials to US nuclear submarines in South Korean ports.  Assessment of the degree of operational involvement of umbrella states in nuclear deterrence  The hosting of nuclear weapons can be seen to constitute a particularly high level of commitment to nuclear deterrence—especially in the case of NATO nuclear sharing, which involves the handing over of control of nuclear weapons by the USA to an ally and the potential execution of a nuclear strike by that ally during a crisis. The host state takes on an enormous burden in sacrificing its own security, as military bases with nuclear weapon infrastructure and housing dual-capable aircraft for nuclear strike missions are logical targets for adversaries in wartime. Although European host states would ultimately be responsible for dropping B61 bombs on their target locations, other allies’ provision of support for the nuclear strike mission under the SNOWCAT programme must also be seen as a direct operational contribution to nuclear deterrence practices.  Assessment of the degree of operational involvement of umbrella states in nuclear deterrence  Political support for nuclear deterrence  Acceptance of a nuclear security guarantee constitutes political support— albeit passive—for existing nuclear deterrence practices. Typically, this kind of support involves endorsing the strategy documents of an alliance that stress the need for nuclear deterrence or as discussed above, participating in allied nuclear consultations. Some countries choose to go further in their political support by making public statements highlighting the perceived security value of nuclear weapons. Another form of political support by umbrella states of nuclear deterrence practices is signalling opposition to multilateral initiatives that question the legitimacy of nuclear deterrence.  Statements supporting extended nuclear deterrence  Umbrella states tend to keep a low profile regarding the role of nuclear weapons in their national security policies. In most cases, their national security strategies do not even mention nuclear deterrence and nuclear weapons are either discussed in relation to the perceived threats posed by adversaries or viewed exclusively as objects of arms control and disarmament. In multilateral forums, nuclear-allied countries usually do not wish to stand out from non-nuclear weapon states.  In some cases, however, umbrella states do explicitly stress the importance of nuclear weapons and extended nuclear deterrence for their national security. A recent example of public endorsement of nuclear deterrence is the German response to the criticism by China, Russia, and several nonnuclear weapon states of NATO nuclear sharing arrangements at the 2022 NPT Review Conference. Using its right of reply, Germany said that NATO nuclear sharing is ‘fully consistent and compliant with the NPT’, adding that the practice was ‘put in place well before the NPT entered into force’ and that it ‘has long been accepted and publicly understood by all States Parties to the NPT’. At the same conference, a representative of Hungary defended nuclear sharing by saying that it contributes to non-proliferation by ‘remov[ing] incentives for nations to develop their own nuclear deterrence capabilities’. Both of these arguments have long been made by NATO to justify nuclear sharing.  When comparing the defence white papers of umbrella states, Australia and Germany stand out for the reason that both countries explicitly refer to extended nuclear deterrence as a source of national security. Germany, in addition to repeating key tenets of NATO’s deterrence policy—for example that ‘The strategic nuclear capabilities of NATO, and in particular those of the United States, are the ultimate guarantee of the security of its members’— also states in its 2016 white paper on security policy and the future of the Bundeswehr that, ‘Through nuclear sharing, Germany continues to be an integral part of NATO’s nuclear policy and planning’. Australia, in its 2020 Defence Strategic Update, states that ‘Only the nuclear and conventional capabilities of the United States can offer effective deterrence against the possibility of nuclear threats against Australia’. Statements supporting extended nuclear deterrence can be viewed as examples of moral burden-sharing, particularly when they are made in forums such as the NPT Review Conference, where nuclear deterrence practices are subject to regular criticism by non-nuclear weapon states. On other occasions—such as when they are made in connection with national security documents—these statements indicate a strong belief that nuclear weapons are an integral part of allied deterrence.  Opposition to the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons  Since 2016, an important show of solidarity among the nuclear weapon states and their allies has been to cast votes against the United Nations General Assembly annual resolution endorsing the 2017 Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW). The TPNW not only questions the legitim acy of existing nuclear deterrence practices but also seeks to stigmatize nuclear weapons globally through its comprehensive ban on nuclear weapons, including on the threat of their use. Not surprisingly, nuclear-armed states have fervently opposed the Treaty, as the credibility of their nuclear deterrents depends on their readiness to threaten nuclear weapon use.  The USA has warned its allies against supporting the TPNW or participating in related meetings. For example, in 2016 it strongly encouraged NATO member countries to vote against UN General Assembly Resolution 71/258, which called for negotiations on a treaty banning nuclear weapons, arguing that such efforts were ‘fundamentally at odds with NATO’s basic policies on deterrence’. In that year, all umbrella states cast a negative vote on the resolution, with the exception of the Netherlands, which abstained from voting (see the section ‘Engagement by umbrella states with the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons’ below). Similarly, all umbrella states, with the exception of the Netherlands, were absent from the TPNW negotiations in 2017; Albania, Poland and South Korea joined the USA in protesting against these negotiations. With only a few exceptions, umbrella states have also uniformly voted against the annual UN General Assembly resolution expressing support for the Treaty. Arguably in line with their decision to apply for NATO membership, in 2022 Finland and Sweden also voted against the resolution for the first time. Calls to expand nuclear deterrence practices  Some countries without existing nuclear sharing arrangements have expressed an interest in hosting nuclear weapons. In 2020, before the recent reports of nuclear sharing between Belarus and Russia (see the section ‘Nuclear weapon hosting’ above), the president of Belarus, Alexander Lukashenko, had offered to host Russian nuclear weapons as a response to the potential deployment of US nuclear weapons to Poland. Belarus’ interest in positioning itself under the Russian nuclear umbrella was in fact first articulated more than 20 years ago.  Poland has on several occasions expressed an interest in hosting US nuclear weapons. For example, in October 2022, following reports of Russian nuclear sharing with Belarus, the president of Poland, Andrzej Duda said that ‘a potential opportunity’ for Poland to participate in nuclear sharing had been discussed with the USA. While the US leadership has not confirmed that such discussions took place, in May 2020 the US ambassador to Poland suggested that ‘perhaps Poland . . . could house the capabilities’ in case Germany were to ‘reduce its nuclear potential and weaken NATO’ by ending its nuclear sharing arrangements with the USA. Stationing US nuclear weapons in former Warsaw Pact countries such as Poland would go against the 1997 Founding Act on Mutual Relations, Cooperation and Security between NATO and the Russian Federation, in which NATO member countries reiterated that they have ‘no intention, no plan and no reason to deploy nuclear weapons on the territory of new members’.  Regarding the Asia-Pacific region, the president of South Korea, Yoon Suk-Yeol, said in an unprecedented statement made in January 2023 that if the nuclear threat from North Korea grows, his country might ‘introduce tactical nuclear weapons or build them on our own’, adding that ‘we can have our own nuclear weapons pretty quickly, given our scientific and technological capabilities’. While there has been a long-standing debate in South Korea on both the reintroduction of US non-strategic weapons and the development of an indigenous nuclear weapon programme, and popular support for both proposals, this was the first time such a statement was made by a high-level government official. Similarly, discussions on the possibility of hosting US nuclear weapons in a manner based on the NATO model have taken place in Japan. Thus far the Japanese government has rejected the idea.  The above-mentioned calls to establish new nuclear weapon hosting arrangements suggest that the umbrella states in question view the existing extended nuclear deterrence practices as insufficient. While these states may view forward-deployed nuclear weapons themselves as key to strengthening deterrence, they might also view them as instruments of alliance cohesion— meaning that, in principle, nuclear weapons could be replaced with any other military system requiring the permanent deployment of US troops on allied territory. Statements supporting indigenous nuclear weapon development go further, indicating the desire of an umbrella state to assume sovereign authority over national nuclear deterrence practices through proliferation. While such statements may be used to appeal to domestic constituencies or to pressure the nuclear-armed patron to strengthen its extended deterrence commitments, they undermine the global non-proliferation norm, particularly if not met with strong international condemnation.  III. Stepping back from nuclear deterrence policies  This section recounts and analyses the ways in which some umbrella states, or government officials in such states, have at times sought to challenge or distance themselves from existing nuclear deterrence practices and broken ranks with allies on relevant issues, often in a manner considered controversial within the alliance. In many such cases, govern mental policymaking has mirrored anti-nuclear sentiments in the population.  Bans on or limits to the stationing of nuclear weapons on national territory  The political reservations of Nordic NATO members about the stationing of nuclear weapons on or their transit through their national territories date back to the late 1950s—a time of strong popular sentiment against nuclear weapons inspired by, for example, the Russell–Einstein Manifesto of 1955 and international efforts at the UN to control and eliminate nuclear weapons. In Spain, similar reservations took shape in the early 1980s, when the antinuclear movement was strong.  Political declarations on potential future deployment or transit  Denmark, Iceland, Norway, and Spain have long had policies that prohibit nuclear weapons being stationed on their national territories. While the policies of Denmark, Norway and Spain leave open the option of allowing the stationing of nuclear weapons during times of war, Iceland’s prohibition seems to apply in all situations.  Danish reservations about nuclear deterrence have been influenced by domestic opposition to nuclear weapons and were captured in a policy that was adopted in May 1957. According to the policy, Denmark would not allow ‘the deployment and transit of nuclear weapons on its territory’, in particular Greenland, where, as a result of a 1951 bilateral defence agreement, the USA was allowed to operate military bases. However, this declaratory policy was contradicted by a secret agreement, according to which the USA was not obliged to inform Denmark of its deployment of nuclear weapons on US bases in Greenland. In practice, Denmark thus allowed both the stationing of US nuclear weapons at Thule Air Base in 1958–1965 and overflights of nuclear armed bombers in Greenland in the 1960s. Although the veil of secrecy was briefly lifted in 1968 when a US B-52 bomber crashed in Greenland, it was not until the 1990s that the full scale of the clandestine activities came to light, causing a political scandal in Denmark.  In Norway, a 1957 motion by the governing Labour Party held that ‘nuclear weapons must not be placed on Norwegian territory’, a decision that the country’s prime minister reiterated at a NATO meeting in December 1957. In 1960 it was specified that this policy applied in peacetime only. At the time, Norwegian government officials also repeatedly said that Norway would not allow visits by naval vessels that had nuclear weapons on board. In a more recent reiteration of the policy, a 2017 white paper on Norwegian foreign and security policy states that ‘nuclear weapons are not to be stationed on Norwegian territory in peacetime’ and, furthermore, that ‘foreign military vessels that call at Norwegian ports must not have nuclear weapons on board’. Norway did not enforce this policy during the cold war by preventing US surface ships—which no longer carry nuclear weapons but at the time would neither confirm nor deny they were carrying them—from entering their ports. Denmark did not enforce its ban on the transit of nuclear weapons on its territory either.  Iceland’s policy of not allowing nuclear weapons on its soil is less well known than that of the two other Nordic NATO members. It has, however, been consistently expressed by successive Icelandic foreign ministers since 1964 and codified in parliamentary resolutions since at least 1985. A 2016 resolution reconfirmed that part of the country’s national security policy is ‘To ensure that Iceland and its territorial waters are declared free from nuclear weapons . . .’.  Spain hosted US strategic bombers and nuclear-armed submarines during the dictatorship of Francisco Franco (1939–75). When Spain joined NATO in 1982, it did so on the condition—set by the Spanish parliament—that nuclear weapons would not be brought to the country. The 1986 referendum that confirmed the country’s NATO membership mentioned the prohibition of ‘the deployment, storing or the introduction of nuclear weapons in Spanish soil’ as a precondition to this decision. However, the transit of nuclear armed vessels through Spanish waters—which would have in any case been difficult to monitor—was not prohibited.  The political reservations of the four NATO member countries discussed above stand out as the most visible expressions of scepticism about the security benefits of extended nuclear deterrence within the alliance. The practical impact of such declaratory statements has been called into question by the case of Denmark, where the declaratory policy was contradicted by a clandestine agreement. That all of these countries—with the apparent exception of Iceland—have not ruled out the possibility of hosting nuclear weapons during times of war can also be seen to reduce the normative significance of their reservations about such hosting.  Legislation prohibiting nuclear weapons on national territory  Lithuania’s constitution unambiguously states that ‘There may not be any weapons of mass destruction’ on its territory. Although it is legally binding, applicable in wartime and would seem to represent the strongest stance possible against nuclear sharing, this prohibition is disconnected from Lithuania’s political statements, which are silent on this part of the constitution and have even, at times, highlighted the value of nuclear weapons to NATO’s deterrence policy. One explanation for this might be that Lithuania’s constitution—which was drafted in 1992 and thus preceded the country’s NATO accession in 2004—signalled sovereign independence from the Soviet Union rather than marked distance from NATO nuclear policies.  New Zealand is a former nuclear umbrella state that passed legislation against the introduction of nuclear weapons on its national territory in 1984. The country had been part of a trilateral defence alliance under the 1951 ANZUS Treaty. More specifically, New Zealand declared itself a nuclear weapon-free zone and introduced relevant legislation, including a prohibition on nuclear-capable vessels from entering the country’s ports. Given the US policy at the time of neither confirming nor denying its ships were armed with nuclear weapons, US Navy vessels could not dock in the harbours of New Zealand. In February 1985, New Zealand demonstrated its readiness to enforce its policy by turning down the request of a US missile destroyer to dock. The USA reacted by cancelling its security guarantee to New Zealand in August 1986. Although New Zealand signalled its willingness to remain part of the ANZUS Treaty, the position of the USA was that it was not feasible for an ally to enjoy the benefits of a conventional defence partnership while renouncing its nuclear dimension. As suggested by one observer, the USA’s severe response to New Zealand’s anti-nuclear policy reflected concerns by the USA that, if it would accept the policy, this ‘could generate eventual ripples of pressures for unilateral disarmament throughout other western societies’.  In sum, national legislation prohibiting the stationing and transit of nuclear weapons in or through a given umbrella state’s territory can be seen to constitute a strong prohibition against nuclear weapon hosting. Yet, the political significance of such a prohibition is diminished if not backed up by corresponding declaratory policy, as exemplified by the case of Lithuania. In contrast, the combination of legal and political prohibition and its practical enforcement by New Zealand was deemed excessive by the USA, which ultimately punished its ally by terminating the conventional security guarantee. A similar crisis over the transit of nuclear weapons is unlikely to occur today given that the USA stopped deploying nuclear weapons on surface ships in the early 1990s. Instead, potential controversies over allies’ anti-nuclear weapon policies are now more likely to arise in connection with their approach to the TPNW (see the section ‘Engagement of umbrella states with the Treaty on the Prohibition of nuclear weapons’ below).  Political decisions to end nuclear weapons hosting  By the end of the cold war, several nuclear weapon hosting arrangements had been terminated. Arguably, these arrangements were ended largely on the basis of unilateral decisions taken by Russia and the USA; however, in at least two cases—Canada and Greece—the initiative clearly came from host states.  Following a heated domestic debate and a change of government, Canada decided in 1963 to host US nuclear warheads that were to be fitted with the Bomarc anti-aircraft missiles that Canada had previously bought from the USA. However, only six years later, in 1969, a new Canadian government reversed the hosting policy. It did so in line with its ratification in that same year of the newly negotiated NPT (Canada was one of the first countries to ratify the Treaty). As a result, by 1972 all US nuclear warheads reserved for the anti-aircraft missiles had been withdrawn from Canada. However, the country retained nuclear-armed air-to-air Genie rockets deliverable by Voodoo aircraft until 1984.  Greece, which had hosted US non-strategic nuclear weapons since the early days of the cold war, decided at the turn of this century not to replace its ageing A-7E dual-capable aircraft with a new model that could have continued the country’s nuclear sharing arrangements with the USA. As a result of this decision, US nuclear weapons were quietly removed from the country in 2001, putting an end to the arrangements. The apparent lack of public discussion on the decision—or any discussion that reached an international audience—contrasts with the vocal but ineffectual calls made by Germany a decade later for the withdrawal of such weapons.  Calls to end nuclear sharing  The military value of the US non-strategic nuclear weapons in Europe was frequently called into question in the post-cold-war period, with arguments against them growing louder in the late 2000s. At this time, two successive German foreign ministers—Frank-Walter Steinmeier and Guido Westerwelle—openly called for an end to nuclear sharing in Germany. As Steinmeier said in 2009, ‘These weapons are militarily obsolete today’, which is why he would seek to ensure that the remaining US warheads ‘are removed from Germany’. The following year, Westerwelle said that the nuclear weapons in Germany were ‘a relic of the Cold War’ that ‘no longer serve a military purpose’ and that the German government was ‘working to create the conditions for their removal’ in cooperation with allies and partners.  In February 2010, Germany—together with Belgium, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Norway—wrote a letter to the NATO secretary-general calling for the inclusion of non-strategic nuclear weapons in arms control agreements. The Benelux countries and Norway also highlighted this issue in their national statements but more cautiously than Germany, often linking it to reciprocal steps being taken by Russia.  These high-level efforts to change NATO nuclear sharing practices ultimately proved unsuccessful. Ironically, the same US administration that arguably inspired the German position against the hosting of non-strategic nuclear weapons also strongly pushed back against this position. The former US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton responded to the above-mentioned letter by saying that ‘as long as nuclear weapons exist, NATO will remain a nuclear alliance’, stressing the importance of ‘sharing nuclear risks and responsibilities’. At the same time, she stressed the need for Russia to make reciprocal reductions as a condition for the withdrawal of tactical nuclear weapons from Europe. The definition of NATO as a nuclear alliance was included in its 2010 Strategic Concept, which ultimately made it harder for Germany to push for an end to nuclear sharing. Although the debate on the merits of nuclear sharing continued in the country after that, Germany’s continued participation in the practice appeared to be confirmed with the March 2022 decision to replace its ageing dual-capable Tornado aircraft with F-35s.  ‘Footnote politics’ in the 1980s By the early 1980s social democratic parties in Europe, particularly in the Nordic countries, had become critical of mainstream NATO nuclear policy, a sentiment that grew stronger during the early years of the US administration of President Ronald Reagan. Because of the leverage of a coalition of centre-left opposition parties over the liberal-conservative government’s foreign policy at the time, Denmark stood out from other NATO members by frequently dissociating itself from allied policy on nuclear issues. The Danish government—in addition to making public expressions of dissent— sometimes inserted footnotes in NATO communiqués, so its policy came to be known as ‘footnote policy’.  Initially, the most contentious issue for Denmark was NATO’s ‘dual-track’ decision, adopted in December 1979. This decision included a plan for the USA to deploy intermediate-range nuclear forces (INF) in Western Europe in 1983 unless the Soviet Union agreed to discuss its respective SS-20 missiles in arms control negotiations. The Danish foreign minister had proposed postponing the decision, but it went ahead. In a 1982 NPG meeting communiqué, Denmark added a footnote expressing support for the Soviet proposal for a compromise solution to the INF crisis. Denmark’s position deviated from that of the other NATO members—they supported the Reagan administration’s ‘zero solution’, which called for the elimination of all land-based INF missiles in Europe. Danish opposition to the INF deployments included a parliamentary decision to suspend their funding. When the INF missiles were finally deployed, Denmark dissociated itself from the NATO policy by placing a footnote on a NATO communiqué describing it.  Other issues of contention included the US request that NATO allies endorse its Strategic Defense Initiative, which both Denmark and Norway opposed through footnote politics, and the proposal for a Nordic nuclear weapon-free zone. Although the Danish government had for most of the 1980s been driven by the opposition parties to agree to implement the footnote policy, a 1988 parliamentary resolution that would have led to a stricter policy on port visits by nuclear-armed ships—similar to the legislation put in place by New Zealand—prompted the government’s call for a new general election, which ultimately put the social democrats at a disadvantage.  Engagement of umbrella states with the Humanitarian Initiative  One umbrella state, Norway, played a key role in an initiative highlighting the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons. The Humanitarian Initiative built on the 2010 NPT Review Conference final document, in which deep concern was expressed over the ‘catastrophic humanitarian consequences that would result from the use of nuclear weapons’, as well as on three conferences exploring the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons held in 2013–2014. By drawing attention to the humanitarian and environmental consequences of nuclear weapon use, the historical record of near misses, and personal accounts of the victims of past nuclear weapon use and testing, the Humanitarian Initiative questioned the legitimacy of existing nuclear deterrence practices, thereby paving the way for the TPNW negotiations. Norway was among the states that initially advocated for the inclusion of humanitarian language in the 2010 NPT Review Conference final document. In this it was inspired by the success of the humanitarian approach in bringing about the 2008 Convention on Cluster Munitions. Indicative of the Norwegian government’s goals at the time, in February 2010 the country’s foreign minister said that ‘experience from humanitarian disarmament should guide us on how to pursue and negotiate disarmament issues in general’, and that, although ‘Some maintain that consensus is vital when it comes to nuclear disarmament . . . I believe it would be possible to develop norms against the use of nuclear weapons, and even to outlaw them, without a consensus decision, and that such norms will eventually be applied globally’.  Norway hosted the first of the three above-mentioned conferences in March 2013. The conference was criticized by the five nuclear-armed Parties to the NPT (China, France, Russia, the UK and the USA) as ‘divert[ing] discussion away from practical steps to create conditions for further nuclear weapons reductions’. However, some of the nuclear-armed states participated in the third conference, held in Vienna in December 2014. Preparing the ground for the TPNW, Austria launched what eventually came to be known as the humanitarian pledge for the prohibition and elimination of nuclear weapons, which called for ‘effective measures to fill the legal gap for the prohibition and elimination of nuclear weapons’, at the conference.  Although Norway did not ultimately endorse the pledge, it had been one of the few nuclear umbrella states supporting the joint humanitarian statement, which preceded the pledge and stated that ‘It is in the interest of the very survival of humanity that nuclear weapons are never used again, under any circumstances’. Most NATO allies would not endorse this wording as it contradicts the basic principles of nuclear deterrence. In addition to Norway, Denmark consistently endorsed the joint humanitarian statement in 2012–2015, and Iceland and Japan joined them in doing so at the ninth NPT Review Conference, held in 2015.  According to one observer, the goal of a new treaty outlawing nuclear weapons had been ‘a key aim for the Norwegian centre-left coalition government from 2010 onwards’. However, following the 2013 elections that brought a right-wing coalition to power in the country, the Norwegian government began to dissociate itself from the humanitarian initiative. For example, at the 2022 NPT Review Conference Norway no longer supported the joint humanitarian statement, leaving Greece and Japan as the only umbrella states to endorse it.  Norway’s role in the humanitarian initiative demonstrates that umbrella states can play an instrumental role in shaping nuclear disarmament norms even in the face of opposition by their patron. However, it also shows how domestic political differences—arguably in combination with external alliance pressures—limits the sustainability of such revisionist policies over time. Engagement of umbrella states with the Treaty on the Prohibition of nuclear weapons  The TPNW challenges both the legitimacy and the legality of existing nuclear deterrence practices, which is why nuclear-armed states have fervently opposed the Treaty. The USA has also sought to ensure its allies do not join or in any way signal support for the treaty. However, some allies have found it difficult to fall into line with this policy owing to significant domestic support for the TPNW.  Meetings under the Treaty  Although none of the nuclear umbrella states supported the December 2016 UN General Assembly Resolution 71/258 that formed the basis for the TPNW negotiations, the Netherlands stood out from the others in that it abstained from voting rather than casting a vote against the resolution. The Netherlands was also the only umbrella state that took part in the two rounds of TPNW negotiations in 2017, although it did not support the adoption of the Treaty at the end of those negotiations. This deviation from US allied policy by the Netherlands has been explained in terms of domestic pressure from the Dutch parliament.  The Netherlands attended the First Meeting of States Parties to the TPNW, held in June 2022, as an observer, following a vote of the Dutch parliament mandating it to do so. Four other umbrella states (Australia, Belgium, Germany, and Norway) also attended the meeting as observers. Although observing TPNW meetings is not equivalent to supporting the Treaty, the presence of five umbrella states at the First Meeting of States Parties to the TPNW was particularly noteworthy given the 2020 North Atlantic Council statement upon the entry into force of the TPNW. This statement expressed NATO member countries’ collective opposition to the TPNW, which NATO saw as ‘not reflect[ing] the increasingly challenging international security environment’ and being ‘at odds with the existing non-proliferation and disarmament architecture’.  Official statements in support of the Treaty  In 2018 the Spanish government’s socialist minority agreed to sign the TPNW as part of a package of commitments adopted by the country’s prime minister and the leader of the far-left coalition party in exchange for the latter’s support for the following year’s budget. However, the government never acted on this commitment.  Also in 2018, the Australian Labor Party, in opposition at the time, committed itself to a policy of seeking signature and ratification of the TPNW if it were to be elected to government. The policy was initiated by Anthony Albanese, who became prime minister in May 2022. Although his subsequent rhetoric has been more cautious, in October 2022 Australia decided for the first time to abstain from voting rather than to vote against the annual UN General Assembly resolution in support of the TPNW. This shift prompted the USA to issue a warning to its ally, with the US embassy in Canberra saying that the Treaty ‘would not allow for US extended deterrence relationships, which are still necessary for international peace and security’. However, the US assessment of the compatibility between allied commitments and TPNW support appears to be contingent on political circumstances, as evidenced by the conventional alliance between the Philippines and the USA, which seems to be unaffected by the Philippines being a Party to the TPNW. In addition, some observers have suggested that the likelihood of the USA taking punitive measures against umbrella states that join the TPNW would depend on whether they were to join the treaty individually or as part of a group of several allies.  IV. Conclusions  While countries under extended nuclear deterrence arrangements retain their sovereign freedom of action, being part of a military alliance with a nuclear dimension contributes to a tendency for a country to side with its nuclear-armed patron on matters related to nuclear weapon and disarmament norms. This tendency may reflect genuine belief in the security benefits of nuclear deterrence or merely political pressure to fall in line with the views of allies, or both. Support for existing nuclear deterrence practices mostly takes a low-key, passive form but in some cases umbrella states have proactively supported such practices either politically or operationally. While such support tends to come with a reputational cost in multilateral forums and domestic politics, it also increases the status of the umbrella state within the alliance as a valued ally doing its part of the moral burden-sharing.  At times, however, umbrella states have used their freedom of action to take bold strides—or more modest steps—away from the allied mainstream position by advocating for anti-nuclear weapon policies, often reflecting popular sentiments that question the morality of nuclear weapons. Some of these policies—such as certain NATO members’ reservations regarding nuclear sharing—demonstrate that it is possible for a country to distance itself from nuclear deterrence practices while still remaining part of a military alliance. While the exceptional case of New Zealand, whose antinuclear weapon policies led to its banishment from the ANZUS alliance in the 1980s, was tied to past US nuclear weapon deployment practices that no longer exist, it set a precedent that may still add caution to the approach of umbrella states to potentially divisive issues such as the TPNW. Any punishment by the nuclear-armed patron could nevertheless be expected to be more lenient if several allies were to pursue an anti-nuclear weapon policy simultaneously—a development that might ultimately influence alliance policy by reducing the role of nuclear weapons. Absent such a prospect, allies face the challenge of balancing normative pressures to support nuclear disarmament with alliance commitments that require at least passive support for nuclear deterrence practices.

Defense & Security
Guard of Honor Battalion of the Pakistan Army

Army Cannot Remain Unaffected by Pakistan's Divisions

by Husain Haqqani

At a time of intense polarisation in Pakistani society, the army cannot remain unaffected by intense divisions among Pakistanis. The images of enraged mobs attacking a Corps Commander’s residence and General Headquarters (GHQs) immediately after the arrest of former Prime Minister Imran Khan illustrate the challenge facing Pakistan’s mighty army. Speculation of divisions among the army’s officer corps notwithstanding, there is no doubt that the chain of command and discipline within the army will endure. But at a time of intense polarisation in Pakistani society, the army cannot remain unaffected by intense divisions among Pakistanis. Imran Khan enjoys massive popularity in military families, which have spent the last three decades hating the country’s traditional politicians. Serving and retired military officers and their children have had a privileged life since the days of General Zia ul Haq and most of them buy into the overly simplistic view that Pakistan’s only problem is politicians who are “crooks” or “traitors”. Since, in their view, Imran Khan is neither, and he also reflects nationalist ‘jazba’; he is the only civilian leader acceptable to them. In my book ‘Reimagining Pakistan’, I have explained the concept of ‘jazba’, which means ‘passion, spirit, and strong feeling or emotion’, a uniquely Pakistani blend of religion, patriotism, and antagonism towards India, the United States, and anyone else who might interfere with the greatness for which Pakistan is destined. For those who believe, ‘jazba’ is the guarantor of Pakistan’s success in all fields, from the sport of cricket to the economy and warfare. The believers in ‘jazba’ often do not analyse, they only emote. For them, Pakistan’s problems are not the result of bad policies. They are attributable to “the lack of sincerity and jazba” of someone or the other. Imran Khan’s engineered political rise was largely based on the ‘jazba’ narrative. In fact, his hardcore followers speak of ‘jazba junoon’, or the spirit of madness, in loving him as Pakistan’s saviour. The army nurtured the ‘jazba’ narrative that propelled Imran Khan into power and is now finding it difficult to get men and women who live in or have grown up in cantonments to change their worldview just because senior generals have realised its limitations. Pakistan’s generals have always been divided between pragmatists, who realise the complexities of the world, and those who are ideological to the point of ignoring everything else. The latter are often drawn to conspiracy theories, which Imran Khan also loves spreading. Former army chief General Qamar Javed Bajwa had thought that he could use Imran Khan’s charisma and celebrity status to create a political force that would keep traditional politicians in check and enable him to drive from the back seat while maintaining the trapping of democracy. That did not work out. When Bajwa tried to make pragmatic adjustments in Pakistan’s relations with the West and India, Imran Khan stuck to the ideological paradigm. Moreover, Pakistan’s economy did not do better under Khan, who failed to fulfil his key promise of repatriating wealth allegedly ‘stolen’ from Pakistan by traditional politicians and stashed abroad. Imran Khan also interfered with Bajwa’s personal ambitions and that led to Bajwa’s decision not to help his mentee beat the Vote of No Confidence brought against Khan last year by the traditional politicians. Imran Khan has, over the years, become a master narrative builder, which is easy to do when you deliberately ignore every fact and have cult-like followers who accept everything you say. Khan blamed his ouster on a conspiracy by the United States and virtually called upon the army to restore him to office or hold immediate elections, which he hopes to win. The army’s refusal to do so has led to stepping up of rhetoric against the army’s senior commanders. It is wrong to portray Khan’s supporters as having turned against the army or even against military intervention in politics. His party, Pakistan Tehrik-e-Insaf (PTI), has in its ranks the son of late military dictator General Zia ul Haq, the grandson of Pakistan’s first coup maker Field Marshal Ayub Khan, and all major civilian collaborators of General Pervez Musharraf. None of them have publicly said anything to suggest there was anything wrong with Pakistan’s past military interventions. By speaking out against the current army leadership, these people are simply trying to get the army to put its weight behind Khan again, where they feel it rightly belongs as long as Pakistan is a democracy. If, at some point, Pakistan’s democratic system breaks down again, and direct military ruler returns (which is difficult under current circumstances), many of Khan’s supporters will go back to supporting the army against ‘corrupt’ politicians (minus Khan, of course.) Imran Khan’s strategy seems to be to use his popularity with military families to force a change in the high command’s decisions. Several years ago, Khan had remarked in a dinner conversation overseas, which was recorded on video, that Pakistan’s generals feared the mob. In recent months, he has been testing out his theory by gradually unleashing the mob against the army. But if, as a Chinese government statement recently described it, the Pakistan army is the “defender of Pakistan’s national security and stability”, its leaders cannot afford to be swayed by either the mob or the ideological spirit of military family members and retired officers. Given its size and command structure, the Pakistan army is not an institution that can easily be fractured or divided. But ideologues have flourished in its ranks before and might exist even now. The late Lieutenant General Hamid Gul, for example, often bragged that he put his Islamic faith and his own resolve to protect Pakistan from external and internal enemies above his loyalty to the chain of command or to Pakistan’s Constitution. But Gul’s bragging came largely after retirement. Even now, the most outspoken advocates of Imran Khan’s cause are retired officers, not serving ones. Pakistan’s army chief has to take into account the sentiment of his officers and troops but, at the end of the day, the decisions of the army High Command prevail. We are currently seeing a massive effort by Imran Khan and his supporters to sway the High Command. Of course, attacking military installations will probably dent that effort significantly.

Diplomacy
President of Colombia Gustavo Petro shaking hands with Nicolás Maduro, President of Venezuela

Re-launching Colombia's Neighbourhood Policy

by Stefan Reith , María Paula León,

President Petro seeks rapprochement with Venezuela Colombia and Venezuela were once part of the same state, have shared a history since their creation, have the same colours on their flags and share a 2,219 km border. What happens on one side of the border affects the other. However, relations between the two sister nations have not always been friendly and have experienced some very critical moments. The inauguration of Gustavo Petro as Colombian president in August 2022 marked a turning point for the prospects of bilateral relations, especially politically, but also economically and socially.The story of a complicated relationshipDespite the traditionally close political, social and economic ties, bilateral relations have been fraught with tension in recent decades. For example, the armed conflict in Colombia led to considerable emigration of Colombians to Venezuela for many years from the second half of the 20th century. The inauguration of Hugo Chávez as President of Venezuela in the late 1990s marked another turning point in relations between the two countries. For more than a decade, bilateral relations were marked by profound differences between Chavez's leftist government and Colombia's conservative government. The panorama deteriorated further when Nicolás Maduro took office in 2013, following the death of Hugo Chávez. Relations between the two countries suffered from the complex humanitarian emergency in Venezuela and the start of mass migration to Colombia triggered by the "Operation to Liberate the People". This operation forced about 22,000 people, mostly Colombians, to leave Venezuela in 2015. According to unofficial data, this number could be as high as 32,000. Ten years later, according to the R4V Coordination Platform for Migration from Venezuela, more than 7 million people have left Venezuela, of which about 2.5 million have resettled in Colombia. While relations were already going through a phase of erosion after the last presidential summit between Juan Manuel Santos and Nicolás Maduro in 2016 and the border closures pushed by Maduro, the discourse against the Venezuelan regime intensified when Iván Duque took office as Colombian president. Bilateral relations were de facto severed in 2019 after Colombia recognised Juan Guaidó as Venezuela's interim president and attempted to force the Maduro regime to allow humanitarian aid into the country with a concert at the border. In February 2019, Maduro decided to sever diplomatic and consular relations with Colombia and gave all Colombian diplomatic personnel 24 hours to leave Venezuela. The common border has been closed three times in the last seven years. The longest period, during the Duque government, was from March 2020 to October 2021 (570 days). This was the longest border closure in the history of both countries. While foreign policy towards Venezuela was at an impasse due to broken relations as well as the recognition of oppositionist Juan Guaidóas a legitimate president, former President Duque focused on measures to protect and integrate Venezuelan migrants at home. The most important of these is the "Temporary Protection Statute for Venezuelan Migrants" (ETPV), a complementary procedure to the international protection system for refugees that allows Venezuelan migrants to move from temporary protection status to normal migration status within a period of 10 years. Today, around 1.5 million migrants already have the Temporary Protection Permit (PPT) and thus a secure, 10-year legal residence status. The Duque government's innovative and generous migration policy has been recognised worldwide. Restarting relations under President PetroSince the Petro government took office on 7 August 2022, circumstances have changed. For the first time in many years, the presidents of both countries are supposedly on the same side of the political spectrum. Already during the election campaign, Gustavo Petro had announced the resumption and normalisation of relations with Venezuela in case of his election victory. In the meantime, Petro has already paid several visits to Venezuela, as have the First Lady, Verónica Alcocer, the Foreign Minister, Álvaro Leyva, and the Minister of Trade, Industry and Tourism, Germán Umaña. In his seven months in office, Petro has already travelled to Venezuela four times to meet with President Maduro. Critics, however, criticise the lack of institutionalisation and intransparency of these meetings. So far, no bilateral thematic agenda has been revealed to flesh out the political declarations of intent to normalise relations. There is a lack of transparency and information and there are no joint statements on the content of the meetings. In recent months, ambassadors Armando Benedetti (Colombia) and Félix Plasencia, who was later replaced by Carlos Martínez (Venezuela), were appointed. On 26 September 2022, the border reopened at the Simón Bolívar Bridge. Subsequently, the Atanasio Girardot Bridge was inaugurated and the "Agreement on the Promotion and Mutual Protection of Investments" and the "Recast of the Partial Scope Agreement No. 28", which had governed trade relations between the two countries since 2011, were signed. President Petro places the expansion of trade relations at the centre of his Venezuela policy. German Umaña, current trade minister and former director of the Colombian-Venezuelan Chamber of Commerce, is considered an expert on Venezuela. According to the Táchira Chamber of Commerce, trade with Colombia reached USD 600 million in 2022, twice as much as in the previous year, but much less than expected by the authorities.  Trade relations are (still) a long way from earlier times, when Venezuela was Colombia's second-largest trading partner. Another important issue in the normalisation of relations is the restoration of consular relations. So far, however, progress on this issue has been slow. The opening of the first Venezuelan consulate in the Colombian border town of Cúcuta was announced only a few days ago. Moreover, the facilities are not yet fully functional. Expectations for the normalisation of relations are high, especially in the border region. In addition to a functioning consular operation in both countries, the regulation of public transport and the re-establishment of air connections as well as a stronger reactivation of trade are needed. It remains to be seen how long it will take for trust to be restored with Venezuelan partners and for economic and social relations to return to the level of earlier times. Parallel to the rebuilding of bilateral relations, a change in the discourse on the migration of Venezuelans to Colombia can be observed in the Colombian government. This important issue does not seem to be on the bilateral agenda - notwithstanding projections that the numbers of migrants to Colombia will continue to increase, reaching almost three million people by 2023, according to R4V projections. At the national level, President Petro seems to want to shift the focus on the migration issue, seeking to extend the legalisation of immigrants under the ETPV to other nationalities and dismantling part of the institutional framework. The most drastic decision in this regard was the abolition of the Office for the Care and Socioeconomic Integration of Venezuelan Migrants. The office, created in 2018, was previously considered a key instrument for effective implementation of migration and integration policies, as well as for coordination between local and regional governments and the national government. When President Petro took office, the migration issue was transferred to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; however, many processes and responsibilities remain unclear, as experts criticise. Critics suspect that the Maduro regime may be pushing to exclude the uncomfortable migration issue from the political and public discussion in order to make progress on other issues in return. Despite the symbolically important resumption of relations and progress in some aspects, major challenges remain in political, economic, migration and security terms. Representatives of civil society and the private sector are calling for a concrete bilateral working agenda as well as more transparency and participation beyond the symbolic politics visible so far.Energy transition and "complete peace"Gustavo Petro came to government with the promise of profound change. The revival of relations with Venezuela is part of this domestic and foreign policy paradigm shift because it is central to the planned energy transition and the "complete peace" propagated by Petro. Thus, gas imports from Venezuela are to support Colombia's exit from coal and oil production. And in the negotiations with the ELN guerrillas, the regime of Nicolás Maduro sits at the table as a guarantor state. The proposal to rely on gas imports from Venezuela in the future has met with criticism from the opposition and experts, as it would put Colombia's currently self-sufficient energy supply at risk and place it in a relationship of dependency with Venezuela.  Although Colombia has proven gas reserves for eight years and sufficient capacity not to depend on other countries for its desired energy transition, the government is considering the possibility of not signing any more contracts for the exploration and exploitation of oil and gas. Instead, gas imports from Venezuela are to fill the expected energy gap. The debate is taking place in the context of Russia's war of aggression against Ukraine, which is not only driving up international energy prices, but also highlights the risks of making one's sovereignty dependent on other countries for energy supplies. According to the Colombian Natural Gas Association (Naturgas), importing gas would increase the price for Colombian households by about five times. President Petro, on the other hand, publicly stated that Colombia was already importing gas from other countries. While gas prices were rising, private actors were enriching themselves, the president said. Experts question whether Venezuela will really be able to supply gas in the quantities needed, given the state of its current infrastructure.  Whether the early phase-out of fossil energy production and the massive expansion of renewable energies propagated by President Petro in the election campaign will really be supported by gas imports from Venezuela is currently still an open question. Beyond the government's political rhetoric, there are increasing signs that state revenues from oil and gas production will be necessary in the medium term to finance a sustainable energy transition. Besides the energy transition, Venezuela is also an important actor for the Colombian peace process. The Petro government's decision to make Venezuela the guarantor of the negotiation process with the National Liberation Army (ELN) was therefore not unexpected. As a binational guerrilla active on both sides of the border, negotiations with the ELN are hardly realistic without Venezuela's participation. According to information from InSight Crime, the ELN has a permanent presence in eight states of the neighbouring country; at least five members of the central command have their permanent residence in Venezuela. Nevertheless, critics accused the president of unnecessarily legitimising Nicolás Maduro's regime internationally through this mediating role. Security experts consider it paradoxical to appoint Nicolás Maduro as guarantor of the process, as there is evidence of cooperation between Venezuelan security forces and the ELN. It is therefore uncertain which interests the Maduro regime represents in accompanying the negotiations.President Petro in the mediating roleWhereas under its predecessor governments, Colombia was recognised internationally as an actor that clearly criticised the dictatorship of Nicolás Maduro, the humanitarian crisis of the Venezuelan people and the resulting refugee migration flows to other countries, the discourse has now changed. Petro sees himself more in the role of mediator to alleviate Venezuela's isolation and to support dialogue on democratic elections in the neighbouring country. The issue of Venezuela played an important role during his state visit to the US. In talks with the US government, he advocated an easing of sanctions against Venezuela if Maduro was willing to make concessions in return. In his speech to the Permanent Council of the Organisation of American States (OAS), he proposed rewriting the democratic charter to put Venezuela and even Cuba back on the path to democracy. Another example of Colombia's new mediating role was the International Conference on Venezuela in Bogotá on 25 April, to which the Petro government invited representatives from more than 20 countries. The initiative was endorsed by the Maduro regime, the United States and part of the Venezuelan opposition. According to Colombian Foreign Minister Álvaro Leyva, the aim of the conference was to unblock negotiations between Maduro and the Venezuelan opposition in Mexico in order to hold democratic elections in Venezuela and, in turn, to persuade the international community to end economic sanctions. Attention was drawn to the expulsion of Juan Guaidó, who entered the country illegally and was immediately put on a scheduled flight to Miami by the Petro government. The conference did not lead to concrete results; even a joint final declaration was missing. Afterwards, participants described the conclusions of the Colombian government as one-sided. Whether the Petro government's continued rapprochement with Venezuela can also convince the international community to ease sanctions will largely depend on the progress of negotiations on democratic elections between Maduro and the opposition.ConclusionDespite some important steps such as the opening of the border and the resumption of diplomatic relations, it is still too early to make a conclusive assessment of the prospects for Colombian-Venezuelan relations. Political rhetoric and symbolic politics are contrasted by a bilateral thematic agenda that is still barely discernible. The ultimately unsuccessful political approach of the previous Duque government, which was characterised by non-recognition and the goal of replacing Maduro's regime, has given way under President Petro to an open attitude that is willing to engage in dialogue. Critics accuse President Petro of not taking sufficient account of the authoritarian character of the Venezuelan government in the course of the rapprochement and of strengthening the Maduro regime in its self-chosen role as international mediator and advocate for the easing of sanctions. While the tone and interpersonal relationship between political leaders on both sides of the borders has visibly eased, structural challenges and clashes of interests - migration to Colombia, the role of the ELN, economic interests, security and drug trafficking - remain and require complex and institutional approaches. While the Maduro regime can play for time in negotiations with the opposition to secure its own hold on power, President Petro has only one term in office to implement his ambitious domestic and foreign policy agenda. Venezuela is an important player and possible partner in this, especially with regard to the peace process and the desired energy transition. President Petro still has more than three years left in his term to prove that his détente course towards Venezuela is the better policy approach to strengthen democracy, security and development in the region.

Diplomacy
 Former President of Iran Hassan Rouhani with Vladimir Putin

Diagnosing Iran’s emerging pivot toward Russia and China

by Mahmood Sariolghalam

“The world is not just Europe and America,” Iran’s foreign ministry spokesperson declared on April 10, 2023, implicitly echoing the views championed for years by the senior leadership of the Islamic Republic regarding the ostensible rise of China and Russia. Indeed, the moment when Iran shifted from a traditional balancing relationship between East and West to decisively embrace Russia and China occurred on May 8, 2018, when the Trump administration withdrew the United States from the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA). The U.S.’s decision to abandon the nuclear deal deeply disillusioned the Iranian leadership about any possibility of a rapprochement with Washington. Tehran had initially agreed to sign the JCPOA with the Obama administration based on the expectations that its promises to substantially reduce its nuclear program would be recompensed by the lifting of a substantial portion of U.S. economic sanctions.  Consistent with its long-held objective of maintaining distance from Washington, Tehran was pleased that the JCPOA, as agreed, had permitted it to avoid normalizing relations with its adversary while still reaping the economic benefits by being able to resume oil exports and welcome foreign investment. Yet following the U.S. withdrawal from the nuclear deal, Iran concluded that Washington’s policy toward Tehran is unreliable and the American political class could not be swayed. The Iranian leadership was further disillusioned by the Europeans’ limited ability or willingness to preserve the 2015 agreement. Moreover, the convergence of additional domestic factors — such as pressure from hardliners to bolster the country’s defensive and offensive military capabilities, the weakening state of the economy, and looming challenges to the continuity of the political system — led to intensive debates about the direction of Iran’s foreign policy. Though the foreign and defense policy bureaucracy made the decision to reorient Iranian relations more fully toward China and Russia as early as 2019, it had to wait until the Hassan Rouhani government completed its term in August 2021 before taking any concrete steps in this direction. A clear indication of that decision can be traced to the constant stalling tactics used by the Rouhani delegation during the talks with the U.S. and the broader international community on potentially reviving the JCPOA. The pivot to the East took on a more noticeable character following the inauguration of President Ebrahim Raisi on Aug. 5, 2021. The Raisi presidency led to higher levels of policy compatibility in the totality of the Iranian political system, but even more importantly, it resulted in the executive branch rank and file being staffed with devotees, loyal administrators, and 1970s-era revolutionaries. This was a necessary move following the Rouhani presidency, during which somewhat liberal administrators permeated the bureaucracy. Since the Islamic Revolution, Iran’s legislative and judicial branches have consistently demonstrated their loyalty to the status quo. However, following each change of president, the executive branch has had the opportunity to fill some 11,000 administrative positions throughout the country with like-minded individuals. Now, with the inauguration of the more conservative Raisi government, all three branches are committed to maintaining the current inertia and coherence of the Islamic Republic. Iran is now pursuing a two-tiered foreign policy: a vigorous and determined shift toward Russia and China on the one hand, while, on the other hand, making incremental concessions on its nuclear program to give the impression that another deal can be struck to replace the JCPOA. The former approach is being implemented with almost zero fanfare and the latter with extensive publicity. Iran has been steadfast in its Eastward turn even though this shift does not enjoy the support of the general public or the professional and educated classes in particular. As such, all debate and discussions regarding the country’s foreign policy orientation have been restricted to tightly knit circles within the top ruling elite. Still, it is possible to deduce three broad reasons for Iran’s growing alliance with China and Russia: 1. A refusal to capitulate to or make vast concessions to the United States;2. The valuing of security concerns as more important than economic development needs; and3. The desire to see continuity of the political system.Avoiding capitulating to the United StatesIran has a long-standing policy of avoiding normalization with the United States. Throughout the post-revolutionary period, Tehran has deliberately avoided any moves toward rapprochement except in the face of imminent danger or a potential U.S. military operation against the Islamic Republic. The underlying calculus maintains that normalization with Washington would lead to profound consequences for the current Iranian political system, from disrupting its internal politics to overwhelming its economy and reshaping its culture. First of all, there is a deep-seated fear in Tehran that once American companies, educational institutions, and civil society organizations become active in the country, the Iranian leadership would gradually lose much of its grip on power. Anti-American sentiment also provides the revolutionary class with a common identity and keeps more internationally minded, moderate, or pragmatic groups out of positions of authority. Even following the JCPOA agreement and prior to the inauguration of U.S. President Donald Trump, the dominant perception in the Iranian capital was one of despair since most of the economic sanctions on the country remained intact. The ambiguous future of sanctions, combined with the possibility of spill-over effects on regional issues, created an atmosphere of uncertainty within the corridors of power in Iran. Another factor that dampens hopes for change in U.S.-Iranian relations is Washington’s long list of demands not only with regard to Iran’s foreign policy and nuclear program but also about the nature of its political system and internal conduct. A final facet standing in the way of improved bilateral relations — and closely related to the first — is the Iranian revolutionary class’s belief that rapprochement with the United States would inevitably result in undesired substantial changes in the political system. Any long-lasting improvement in the relationship would require not just policy change but also a redesign of state structures. In line with this thinking, concessions on the nuclear program would be inadequate; Iran would ultimately need to fully capitulate to the U.S., reviving bitter memories of the 1953 American-British coup d’état. The Farsi word for submission, tasleem, was, thus, widely used in the revolutionary state media and television to characterize Washington’s ostensible expectations from Tehran in the realization of the JCPOA. With its vast stake in the political and economic spheres of the state, Iran’s revolutionary class was not prepared to abandon power or open the political floodgates by making structural concessions to the U.S. and facilitating a possible takeover of the country by liberal presidential candidates. The disillusionment in the aftermath of the JCPOA agreement fostered a Raisi-type conservative presidency, an essential prerequisite to the consolidation and continuity of the revolutionary Iranian polity.Precedence of security concerns over economic developmentAt no point in its history has the Islamic Republic prioritized domestic economic development. Continued reliance on energy exports has furnished the state and its elites with a stream of income to maintain this system. Iran’s activist foreign policy antagonizes a large number of neighboring and external countries, yet the leadership considers it essential to protecting the state. For many decades, Iran’s national security doctrine has articulated a hedging strategy of relying on Shi’a and/or anti-Western enclaves in the Middle East to expand its territorial influence vis-à-vis major Arab countries, Israel, and the United States. Turkey is perhaps the only major country in the region with which Iran has been able to manage a stable relationship over the long term. In recent years, Tehran has additionally militarily aligned itself with a major outside power — Russia. Furthermore, Iran’s drone and missile capabilities as well as its geopolitical influence in much of the region have served as a dependable deterrence strategy. Such a conceptualization of national security, threat perceptions, and statecraft have left little room to pursue economic development in a globalized economy. This sharply contrasts with regional neighbors such as Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Israel, and the United Arab Emirates, which have deliberately been concentrating their energies on economic diversification, high-tech industries, renewable energy, and attracting foreign direct investment (FDI). The economic rise of China and Russia’s military and political capabilities have provided a wide range of opportunities for numerous developing countries, including India, Indonesia, Brazil, Nigeria, South Africa, and Mexico, to diversify their foreign and economic policies. However, while drawing on the support they can obtain from Beijing and Moscow, most still strive to maintain a balance between the West and the East. These countries benefit from European and American financial and technological sectors and earn sizeable profits by selling in their markets. But since national economic development is not a priority for the Iranian leadership, and it devotes a large proportion of its energies toward domestic and national security, even a complete political and economic pivot away from the West will not jeopardize Iranian state-owned industries nor affect the already-sidelined private sector and dwindling consumer markets. Indeed, Western companies and banks have also removed Iran as a potential market due to U.S. and European sanctions. Ultimately, Iran’s pivot toward the East will reduce its economy to selling fossil fuels to China and a few other Asian-Pacific countries in exchange for commodity imports. And it is unlikely that these consumers will turn around and invest in Iranian industries due to the sanctions restrictions currently in place. The only conceivable investment opportunities would perhaps be in the form of barter, wherein Iran might export petroleum in exchange for infrastructure development with no financial transactions involved. Furthermore, the timing of the Iranian leadership’s decision to reduce the country’s political and economic reliance on the West in general and Europe in particular was critical: Namely, that strategic choice was made ahead of the looming leadership transition at the top to avoid possible dissenting views when Iran’s third supreme leader takes over. Closer relations with Russia and China promise to not only de-risk Iran’s foreign economic relations but also help maintain an optimum level of progress on the nuclear program as a strategic component of the national security doctrine.Continuity of the political systemIran’s anti-Americanism is considered a highly treasured geostrategic asset in Moscow. In a sense, Iran is Russia’s southern Belarus. From a historical perspective, all permutations of the Russian state over the last two centuries, from the Russian Empire to the Soviet Union to the Russian Federation today, have pursued a similar policy of trying to keep Iran out of the Western orbit. But the Russian-Iranian military partnership that developed in Syria and solidified over Ukraine — specifically covering military hardware, cyber software, and digital surveillance tools that Iran has no hopes procuring through cooperation with the West — has also furthered Tehran’s leverage vis-à-vis Israel and the United States. Iran is expected to receive 24 Su-35 fighter aircraft from Russia in addition to S-400 air-defense systems. And the relationship is developing in both directions. Tehran has also supplied Moscow with low-cost drones and weapons systems. Additionally, the two countries are cooperating in the energy sector, with Russia reportedly having delivered 30,000 tons of diesel fuel to Iran in February and March 2023; yet given Russia’s technological limitations in the energy sector, it is not clear whether these projects will eventually and efficiently materialize. Though relations with Russia have undoubtedly expanded in the military domain since the invasion of Ukraine, one can also deduct other Iranian motives to further solidify relations with Moscow. There are at least two crucial reasons behind Iran’s desire to tighten its cooperation with Russia and move from a transactional to a strategic bilateral relationship. First is Tehran’s need to secure intelligence on Israeli and American operations against Iran. And second is the desire to draw on Moscow’s potential political and intelligence assistance during the transition period to the third supreme leader of Iran. Such expectations can be met with or without Vladimir Putin in the Kremlin since they fulfill fundamental Russian interests vis-à-vis Iran and the West. Iran has reached a point where it can no longer depend on increasing internal control and expanding regional deterrence to maintain a status quo conducive to preserving the political system. Israel’s traditional “periphery doctrine,” of reaching out to non-Arab countries to build security partnerships, has now expanded to the South Caucasus and Central Asian regions. Moreover, most Arab neighbors of Iran today maintain normal or at least not overtly antagonistic diplomatic relations with Israel, which has improved American leverage with regard to Tehran as a result. Facing limited foreign policy options, including diminishing hopes of reaching a modus vivendi with the United States through reviving the JCPOA and a lasting divergence in relations between Russia and the West, Tehran has had to succumb to Moscow. This was not only to procure new military hardware but also to secure its position in a shifting regional matrix, deter potential future threats to its internal security, and safeguard the continuity of the political system. In this evolving context, as long as Russian interests remain opposed to those of the West, Moscow will likely do whatever is necessary to protect the Islamic Republic of Iran. Unlike Russia’s more strategic and long-term calculus vis-à-vis the Islamic Republic, China confines itself to mostly political and commercial relations with Iran and appears to cautiously act in parallel to the U.S. in the Middle East rather than in opposition to it. Beijing has immense short-term and long-term commercial and technological interests in maintaining peace and cooperation with Israel as well as with major Arab countries, such as Saudi Arabia and the UAE. Moreover, petroleum imports from Iran can easily be substituted in a global glut. That said, Beijing’s mediation role between Iran and Saudi Arabia highlights that for China, good relations with the Islamic Republic provide useful political leverage when navigating the region as well as in its global rivalry with the United States.Challenges aheadThis article attempted to explain Iran’s calculations behind politically and economically pivoting toward Russia and China, founded upon the assumption that the deep state in Iran is prioritizing continuity and issues of succession in the political system. Almost all matters of state are overshadowed by these medium- to long-term concerns — a set of priorities that Iranian leaders have, in fact, held for centuries. The question facing the government today, however, is how the revolutionary domestic apparatus can strive to survive the myriad sources of domestic and foreign challenges, including the Islamic Republic’s stand-off against the Western world. In contrast to the United States and Europe, Russia and China are not concerned with Iran’s internal political system, constitutional structures, or governmental machinery. Of its three main adversaries, namely, the U.S., Israel, and Saudi Arabia, Iran recently concluded that a rapprochement with Saudi Arabia is a possibility, having made a complete U-turn on this in March 2023, with the help of Chinese mediation. Iran had learned the hard way to compromise with the Saudis, given the latter’s instrumental political and financial role among Iranian minorities inside the country as well as Iranian opposition groups in Europe and the U.S. In order to mitigate this influence, Tehran apparently decided to make concessions on Yemen in return for reduced Saudi support for the Iranian opposition. Of all the points of leverage at Iran’s disposal in the Middle East, Yemen appears to be the least valued, especially compared to Lebanon, Iraq, and Syria. Evidently, the Iranian leadership’s incremental moves toward China and Russia stem from an unwillingness to redefine the underpinnings of the country’s national security doctrine. Not only does Iran’s current foreign policy orientation not run in opposition to Beijing’s or Moscow’s overall international outlook, but in many ways, its anti-Western predisposition in a critical region of the world serves the two powers in their difficult relationships with the United States. By aligning with Russia and China in the security and commercial spheres, Iran feels it has acquired an insurance policy against any potential negative resolutions emanating from the United Nations Security Council. And even more consequentially, with an eye toward the potentially turbulent looming period of leadership transition and succession, Tehran may feel comfortable with relying on Moscow and Beijing for security, political, intelligence, and financial support. But a major challenge confronts the political system: Will the Iranian public, professional and intellectual groups, and the country’s slim private sector — all deeply accustomed to Western ideas, systems, and customs — be willing to embrace and adapt themselves to this Eastward shift that was formulated by Iran’s political and security elites? Perhaps the social and political atmospherics that emerge as the Islamic Republic’s third supreme leadership seeks to consolidate its power will reveal the durability of this unbalanced geopolitical reorientation.

Diplomacy
President of China Xi Jinping

The Dawn of Xivilization: Israel and China’s New Global Initiatives

by Tuvia Gering

In the last two years, China's leader, Xi Jinping, has announced three global initiatives: the Global Development Initiative (GDI), the Global Security Initiative (GSI), and the Global Civilization Initiative (GCI). What exactly are they, how do they differ from the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), and what do they imply for the State of Israel?  In the last two years, Chinese leader Xi Jinping has announced three global initiatives: the Global Development Initiative (GDI), the Global Security Initiative (GSI), and the Global Civilization Initiative (GCI). These new initiatives are a means of bolstering the legitimacy of the Chinese Communist Party, with Xi at its head. More importantly, they reflect how China’s foreign policy has evolved and the lessons learned from its global engagement in the ten years since

Diplomacy
President of Russian Federation Vladimir Putin

Putin’s Tactic of Inaction Could Backfire at Home

by Tatiana Stanovaya

Putin’s plan is to wait out what he sees as inevitable changes in the West and Ukraine. These days, however, Russia’s elites are liable to see defeatism in inaction.Nothing is happening in Russia. At least, that’s the impression given by Vladimir Putin over the past six months. On some level, the president has been extremely active, secretly micromanaging the war effort and publicly pretending to be dealing with routine matters from meetings on the economy to the launch of a tram line in the occupied Ukrainian city of Mariupol. Yet there are no presidential initiatives in the works for adapting the country to the new wartime reality and all that it involves.  Putin has stubbornly remained disengaged in this sense, despite drone strikes on the Kremlin, mercenary boss Yevgeny Prigozhin’s crusade against the Defense Ministry, and even Ukraine’s looming counteroffensive. He prefers to give lectures on history and offer optimistic assessments of Russia’s economic prospects—and pessimistic ones of the West’s. This doesn’t mean, of course, that there really is nothing happening in Russia: quite the contrary. But what is happening has far less to do with the president’s plans or strategic interests than it does with the corporate interests of individual departments and figures. What is happening is largely a response to the worsening conditions facing Russia. Take the digitization of Russia’s system for issuing conscription notices, a move forced by the difficulties surrounding conscription during a war that is not going according to plan. Or how repression has deepened, in an attempt at self-preservation by the system amid fast-growing geopolitical risks and fears of defeat. Repressive inertia and self-aggrandizement by major institutions such as the FSB and the defense and finance ministries have driven many recent decisions, including the return of ideology. Justice Minister Konstantin Chuichenko has spoken openly about the possibility of introducing a new official ideology that would extend to education, cinema, theater, and poetry. This process has long since ceased to be under Putin’s direct control and is now developing independently of him, albeit with his passive consent. Here and in other important debates, Putin’s voice is absent. Should Russia’s borders be closed? Should those who have already left have their rights restricted? Who is to be exempted from mobilization? How are those designated as “foreign agents” by the state to be punished? What should be done about Prigozhin? How should the country respond to incidents like drone strikes and attempts to assassinate “ultra-patriots”?   The stances of parliamentarians, party leaders, cabinet ministers, military bloggers, and the security services on these and other matters are all well known. Yet Putin says nothing, intervening only to take steps such as retreating from the key Ukrainian city of Kherson, suspending Russia’s participation in the New START nuclear agreement, or pulling out of the Treaty on Conventional Armed Forces in Europe. Even in his long-awaited address to the Federal Assembly, he merely listed measures already taken by the government. Today, Putin is just about the only person in Russia who is not increasingly engaged in politics, from former president Dmitry Medvedev, State Duma speaker Vyacheslav Volodin, and Security Council head Nikolai Patrushev to Prigozhin, the war bloggers, and television hosts. It is as though the president has recused himself, devoting himself to secret military and geopolitical matters, the details of which are known to few. This is not a sign of fear or weakness. Rather, it reflects Putin’s growing messiah complex. At present, literally all his political hopes and plans hinge on external changes that are out of his control. Putin has no instruments or resources with which to change the situation in his favor. Yet he believes that the world will change all the same and deliver him Kyiv’s capitulation.  Putin’s plan is to wait out what he sees as the inevitable transformation of the West and Ukraine. Any fear of a Ukrainian counteroffensive has given way to the conviction that little will change on the battlefield, beyond minor setbacks that he is prepared to tolerate. The calculation in the Kremlin is that absent a military breakthrough, Ukraine’s elite will fracture, leading to the emergence of a “party of peace” (i.e., capitulation), while in the West, internal divisions will force cuts to military and political support for Kyiv. Putin’s hopes cannot be dismissed as completely baseless, but his problem is that this approach is anathema to Russia’s restless political class. For all its loyalty and pliability, it has evolved dramatically during the war. These days, Russia’s elites are liable to see defeatism in inaction. All of this creates the conditions for the political ambitions of parastatal actors to soar. Despite their reputation for being instruments of the Kremlin, they are gradually building political capital and may one day run out of patience with the regime and challenge it. Already, Putin is struggling to explain what exactly he is waiting for.    In the first months of the war, many took notice of how the once-marginal pro-war “ultra-patriots” had matured politically and come to dominate the information space. Today, the officious hawks, such as Medvedev, Volodin, and Patrushev, are losing their place in Russian politics to the angry patriots, including Prigozhin, former Donbas commander Igor Strelkov, and the war bloggers. Compared to each other, the former seem like opportunists and armchair generals, while the latter, having emerged in combat conditions, look much more like the real thing.  The regime is not under threat so long as Putin’s ratings remain stable, and besides, the mechanism of power is still completely under his control. Yet his public paralysis and refusal to assume responsibility for the resolution of the most pressing problems facing Russia cannot but render him and his courtiers politically irrelevant and create a vacuum to be filled by the ultra-patriots. The day may come when Putin finds himself dependent on a once harmless bunch made dangerous by his opacity and inaction.

Energy & Economics
Almerimar, Spain: desert landscape with many plastic greenhouses and an old abandoned truck

Spain prays for rain on the plain

by William Chislett

Spain is suffering a prolonged drought, sparking water rationing in some parts of the country because of depleted reservoirs, causing the wildfire season to start months earlier than usual and destroying crops or farmers deciding not to plant them, which could push up food inflation (13% in April).  April was abnormally hot. The state meteorological agency Aemet said temperatures were between 7ºC and 11ºC above the average, making that month the hottest since records began in 1961. The temperature at one point in Andalusia reached an unprecedented 38.8ºC in Córdoba, underscoring Spain’s vulnerability to climate change. The temperature cooled down in May, but there was very little rain.  Spain’s dramatic situation came as the World Meteorological Organisation predicted that annual average temperatures will most probably break records again in the next five years.  So desperate are people for rain that parishioners in the Andalusian city of Jaén held a procession this month, bearing aloft a statute of Christ known as El Abuelo and calling for the first time since 1949 for the Lord to open the heavens and bring rain.  The Socialist-led coalition government announced an unprecedented €2.2 billion package of measures, including increasing the availability of water by building desalination plants and doubling the proportion of water reused in urban areas. Olive oil production –Spain accounts for 45% of the world’s supply– could be more than halved this year. The government also announced legislation that will ban outdoor workers when the meteorological office issues high temperature alerts. This followed the death of a Madrid street sweeper during last July’s heatwave.Drought is not a new phenomenon in Spain, but this one is something extraordinary. Spain has not had ‘normal’ levels of rain for three years. Just 12 litres per square metre of rain fell in the first three weeks of April, one-quarter of the normal amount. In early May, 27% of Spanish territory was in either the drought ‘emergency’ or ‘alert’ category, creating a tinderbox. Blazes ravaged 54,000 hectares of land in the first four months of the year, three times the amount in the same period of 2022, according to the European Forest Fire Information System (EFFIS).  Spain’s last severe drought was in 1993-96 when around one-quarter of the population was subject to water restrictions. Some towns in Andalusia had supplies cut off for more than 15 hours a day. In 2008 a prolonged drought forced the authorities to bring in water to Barcelona via boat to guarantee domestic use. Catalonia is again one of the most affected regions. Restrictions in many areas have been in force since March, including limiting showers to five minutes, banning the cleaning of cars and the watering of gardens. At the town of L’Espluga de Francolí (population 3,600), water supplies are turned off for nine hours during the night. The Sau reservoir, a key drinking water source, is so low that a medieval village, flooded when the reservoir was created in the 1960s, has emerged.  Rain is very unevenly distributed in Spain. The areas with the highest water abundance per surface unit are in the north and Galicia (known as the ‘wet’ Spain), much more sparsely populated than in the south, in particular, with values higher than 700 mm/year. A popular saying among Galician farmers –la lluvia es arte– (‘rain is art’) was once turned into a tourism slogan. In the rest of the country (the ‘dry’ Spain), water availability does not exceed 250 mm/year. The lowest water availability in Spain occurs in the Segura basin, where it does not reach 50 mm/year (around 20 times less than in Galicia and five times lower than the national average).  In the late 1970s the Spanish government turned Murcia, Alicante and Almería in the south-east –an area where water is minimal and none of the major rivers flow– into ‘Europe’s market garden’ by transferring water from the Tagus through the 300km Tajo-Segura Trasvase, a system of pipelines and an aqueduct. This feat of hydraulic engineering was originally planned during the Second Republic in 1931, built during the Franco dictatorship and put into service after the dictator’s death.  In a country with 17 regional governments of different political colours, as of the 1978 Constitution, water management is a sensitive issue that crosses boundaries and inflames sentiments. One of the major providers of water for the trasvase is the vast reservoir at Buendía in the region of Castilla-La Mancha, where I have long had a house. Farmers there feel aggrieved when they are restricted in using ‘their’ water because it is needed elsewhere. The trasvase has long been embroiled in disputes over how much water should or should not be transferred through it.  Farmers in the south-east benefiting from the trasvase, who produce around 70% of Spain’s vegetables and a quarter of fruit exports, are up in arms over the plans of the Socialist-led minority national government to raise the minimum level of the Tagus at source as this will result in less excess water being transferred. The level needs to be increased in order to remain in line with EU regulations on river water levels, following court rulings. Ecologists say the Tagus is at risk from overexploitation by agriculture and climate change. The plan aims to increase the river’s flow from 6 cubic metres per second to 8.6 cubic metres by 2027.  Without sufficient water, 100,000 jobs are at risk, according to the farming association SCRATS. The father of the novelist Antonio Muñoz Molina, who had a market garden in Úbeda, Andalusia, used to greet ecstatically the year’s first rain with the following words: Es lo mismo que si estuvieran cayendo billetes verdes (‘It’s as if it were raining green banknotes’, in reference to the 1,000 peseta notes at the time).  The politics of the trasvase are complicated: the Socialists control the region of Castilla-La Mancha and back the national government; Valencia, which Alicante forms part of, opposes the plan, despite being also governed by the Socialists, as does Andalusia, where Almería is located, and Murcia, both of them regions run by the conservative Popular Party (PP).  Farmland surrounding the Doñana national park, Europe’s most important wetland and a UNESCO World Heritage site, has been particularly prone to illegal wells. The authorities have long turned a blind eye. Virginijus Sinkevičius, the EU’s environmental chief, attacked a plan last month by the government of Andalusia to increase the amount of irrigable land around Doñana by 800 hectares. This would be tantamount to an amnesty for the strawberry farmers who have already sunk illegal wells there. He said the bloc would use ‘all the means available’ to make sure Spain complied with a 2021 European Court of Justice ruling condemning it for breaking EU rules on excessive water extraction in Doñana.  Farmers switched some years ago from olives to strawberries and other berries, which consume more water. Close to half of Spain’s aquifers are already in poor condition. Before 1985, groundwater was treated as private property and thus not subject to any regulations.  In another part of Andalusia, near the city of Malaga, the Civil Guard arrested 26 people in raids on illegal wells. The Guard’s environmental crimes division identified 250 infractions by fruit farmers. Spain is Europe’s biggest producer of tropical fruit.  Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez called the drought ‘one of the central political and territorial debates of our country over the coming years’. Resolving the water problem will require a national political consensus, something that is woefully lacking in so many other areas.

Diplomacy
President of Türkiye Recep Tayyip Erdoğan

How Erdogan held onto power in Turkey, and what this means for the country’s future

by Mehmet Ozalp

Recep Tayyib Erdogan will remain president of Turkey for another five years after winning Sunday’s run-off election over his long-time rival, Kemal Kilicdaroglu. If he serves the full five-year term, he will have held power for 26 years – almost the entire history of Turkey in the 21st century. What is astonishing is how the majority of Turkish people elected Erdogan despite a worsening economy and now chronic hyperinflation that would likely bring down any government in a democratic country. So, how did Erdogan win the election and, more significantly, what is likely to happen in the country in the foreseeable future?Free but far from fairThe election was free in that political parties could put forth nominees on their own and carry out campaigns. Parties also had the right to have representatives in every polling station to ensure the votes were counted correctly. And voters were free to vote. However, the election was far from fair. First, a potential leading rival in the race, Ekrem Imamoglu, was sentenced in December to more than two years in prison on a charge of “insulting public figures”. Imamoglu, the popular mayor of Istanbul, dealt Erdogan’s party a rare defeat in the 2019 Istanbul elections. Polls had shown he could win against Erdogan in the presidential election by a comfortable margin. Some argue the court ruling was politically motivated. With Imamoglu out of the picture, the opposition had to coalesce behind Kilicdaroglu, the weakest of all possible high-profile candidates. Erdogan also has an almost ubiquitous grip over the Turkish media, engineered through Fahrettin Altun, the head of media and communication at the presidential palace. Turkish media are either directly owned by Erdogan’s relatives, such as the popular Sabah newspaper managed by Sedat Albayrak, or controlled through managing editors appointed and monitored by Altun. Some independent internet news sites such as T24 practice self-censorship in order to remain operational. With this massive media control, Erdogan and his men ensured he had the most television airtime. Erdogan was depicted in the media as a world leader advancing Turkey by building airports, roads and bridges. He was put in front of dozens of journalists on TV, but all the questions were prepared in advance and Erdogan read his answers through a prompter. Altun also orchestrated a massive smear campaign against Kilicdaroglu. The opposition leader received minimal airtime, and when he was in the media, he was depicted as an inept leader unfit to rule the country. Altun not only controlled the conventional TV channels and print media, but also social media. On Twitter, a very influential platform in Turkey, Altun used bots and an army of paid trolls and influencers to seek to control the dialogue. And it worked. Sufficient number of voters were swayed through confusion and fear that the country would be far worse if Kilicdaroglu was elected. Lastly, there was the potential for fraud due to the non-transparent way the election results are processed. Once each ballot box is counted, the ballot and result sheet are transported by police in cities and the military in regional areas to the electoral commission. Both the police and military are under Erdogan’s tight control. The results are then reported only through the state-owned Anadolu Agency, while in the past they were reported by multiple independent agencies. Even if no evidence of fraud emerges in this election, the spectre could put in doubt the integrity of the entire electoral process.Staunch support from religious votersThere are two other factors that were decisive in the elections. The first is the support Erdogan received from Sinan Ogan, who was third in the first round of the presidential election two weeks ago, with 5.2% of the votes. Erdogan persuaded Ogan to throw his support to him. The second and most important factor was the way Erdogan was viewed in an almost mythical fashion by conservative and religious voters. For them, Erdogan is a religious hero and saviour. The religious population in Turkey has long suffered persecution in the name of secularism. For them, Kilicdaroglu and his Republican People’s Party symbolised that persecution. Although Kilicdaroglu abandoned the party’s previous strict secular policies, these voters never forgave it for preventing Muslim women from wearing the head scarf in educational and state institutions and keeping religion out of public life and politics for decades. The conservative and religious right in Turkey sees Erdogan as a world leader and a hero who struggled against ill-intentioned forces, both internally and externally, to make Turkey great again.What is likely to happen in Turkey post-election?Turkey desperately needed a change of government and a breath of fresh air. Now the social, political and economic suffocation is likely to get worse. Erdogan had promised a Turkish revival by 2023, which is the 100th anniversary of the republic’s founding. Turkey was supposed to enter the top 10 economies in the world by then. However, Turkey barely sits in the top 20, at 19th. The economy has experienced a significant downturn in the past three years. The Turkish lira has plummeted in value, leading to a dollar-based economy. But dollars are hard to come by. The Turkish Central Bank kept the economy afloat by emptying its reserves in the last few months for the elections. The Central Bank has been running a current account deficit of US$8-10 billion dollars every month, and its reserves last week fell into the negative for the first time since 2002. Now Erdogan has to find money. He will resort to high interest foreign loans and embark on a diplomatic spree of the oil-rich Muslim countries to draw some of their funds to Turkey. The uncertainty around how successful these endeavours will be and their likely short-term gain may throw the Turkish economy into recession. For the people of Turkey, this could mean massive unemployment and a reduced standard of living. The inflation rate had reached a 24-year high of 85.5% last year, and may go even higher, as the cash-strapped government continues to print digital money to pay for its large bureaucratic workforce. On foreign policy, Erdogan will continue to try to become a regional power independent of NATO, the European Union and the US. He will likely continue to strengthen Turkey’s ties with Russian President Vladimir Putin, which has been a worry for Turkey’s Western allies.What does the future hold?This will be Erdogan’s absolute last term in office, according to the Turkish constitution, and it could possibly be cut short. The 69-year-old president has many health problems. He is becoming increasingly physically frail, finding it hard to walk, and his speech often slurs. In coming years, his health may get worse and he may have to hand over his presidency to a trusted deputy. The other possibility is that potential leaders in his party could decide to carry out a party coup to topple Erdogan before his term is up, so they can garner public support ahead of the 2028 presidential election. While there may be some political stability in post-election Turkey for now, the country will be in economic, social and political turmoil for the foreseeable future. Correction: This piece has been amended to say that if the Turkish economy slips into recession, it could mean massive unemployment and a reduced standard of living, instead of reduced cost of living.

Defense & Security
Pakistan military personnels

Pakistan Army: Blighted by Politics, Driven by Ambitions

by Sushant Sareen

Late night on May 12, the official spokesperson of the Pakistan military, Major General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry, came on Geo TV to dispel rumours about resignations and dismissals of officers of the Pakistan Army. Since the events of May 9—the large scale violence that broke out after the arrest of Imran Khan, much of it targeted against the Pakistan Army and its installations and establishments—there have been reports that the Corps Commander of IV Corps along with some other senior officers were removed from their posts. On May 12, a former army major who has been running a relentless campaign against the current army leadership from the United Kingdom, revealed names of officers who had been sacked for disobeying orders. There were also rumours that a number of other Corps Commanders who were believed to be part of the Imran Khan cult were on the firing line and would soon be sacked. It was amidst such sensational ‘news’ spreading like wild fire over the last few days that the Inter Services Public Relations (ISPR) chief came out with a somewhat perfunctory clarification that is really not going to silence the jungle telegraph that has gone into an overdrive. Clearly, all is not well within the Pakistan Army. That the Pakistan Army is a divided house is not breaking news. Over the last one year, there are straws in the wind, whispers in corridors of power, insinuations and inferences that suggest that the divisions in the rank and file, and even in the top brass, are not just personality driven but also ideologically and politically. Imran Khan appears to have achieved what was supposed to be impossible and unacceptable—dividing the Pakistan Army. If General Asim Munir is now trying to stamp his authority over the Army and restore the command and control system of the only somewhat functional institution in an otherwise dysfunctional country, then this is an exercise fraught with risk. Drastic steps to enforce discipline and reassert the authority of the Army Chief at this stage could either precipitate the crisis in the Army or consolidate it behind the chief. In case of the former, the crisis of the state in Pakistan will become deeper. The institutional integrity and coherence of the Pakistan Army will be irretrievably damaged. If a cabal of generals succeed in defying the Army Chief, then it will be a template that will be followed by others as well. Forget about coups against civilian governments, the new normal will be coups against the Army Chiefs. In the worst case scenario, Islamabad might even witness Khartoum like scenes. But even if General Munir manages to hold on, the discontent in the rank and file will be palpable and could hobble him and his command. In the past also, the much vaunted discipline and unity of Pakistan Army has come under tremendous strain with ambitious generals trying to grab power and middle ranking and junior officers questioning their superiors. After the 1971 debacle, the junior officers literally abused the top brass openly which forced them to not stay in office. In the 1970s, some young officers planned a coup against the army leadership. In the mid-1990s, a group of officers led by Major General Zaheerul Islam Abbasi plotted to wipe out the entire top rung of the military and grab power. In the early 2000s, there were arrests made of disgruntled officers who were linked with the Hizbut Tehrir. Among other officers, a brigadier was arrested. At that time, the then Director General of ISPR, Major General Athar Abbas, had said the Army cannot allow officers to become members of another group or cult, which is precisely what is happening today where officers appear more loyal to the Imran cult than to their own institution. There was also a conspiracy hatched by a cabal of generals, including the Inter-Services Intelligence chief and a couple of Corps Commanders, against Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif and General Raheel Sharif when they used Imran Khan’s 2014 ‘dharna’ to create conditions in which the PM would sack Raheel Sharif, and the Army would move in doing a double regime change—in the government and in the army. Although all these plots failed, they suggest a persistent problem in the Pakistan Army, of officers tempted to usurp power. Something similar is underway now. Only this time, things appear to be far more fraught than ever in the past.