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This blog post originated from a recent discussion by Professor Syaru Shirley Lin in the Winston Lord Roundtable Series on Asia, the Rule of Law, and U.S. Foreign Policy, where she debriefed the recent Taiwan elections. Since Taiwan’s first democratic presidential election in 1996, national elections have centered on national identity and the island’s future relationship with China. At present, however, the majority of Taiwan’s population largely identifies as Taiwanese, contrasting sharply with less than 3 percent identifying as Chinese only. This shift in identity, among other factors such as China’s treatment of Hong Kong, elicited a more centrist approach from the presidential candidates in the 2024 elections, pivoting their campaign focus toward domestic policy. The foreign policy platforms of all candidates aligned on protecting Taiwan’s sovereignty while maintaining the status quo and rejecting China’s “one country, two systems” unification formula. The historically pro-independence Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) softened its stance, whereas the Kuomintang (KMT) candidate Hou Yu-Ih and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) candidate Ko Wen-je advocated for a more accommodating stance toward China but stopped short of appearing overly friendly. In the 2024 election, marked by a robust 72 percent voter turnout, the DPP’s Lai Ching-te secured the presidency with 40 percent of the votes, but Hou with 33 percent and Ko with 26 percent trailing not too far behind. Ko founded the TPP in 2019 as an alternative to the long-established KMT and DPP. He seemed to have attracted a lot of the younger voters, a demographic that has traditionally supported the DPP, especially Tsai Ing-wen. This likely reflects the frustration of Taiwan’s younger generation with the establishment parties as they are directly affected by Taiwan’s toughest policy challenges, including sustainability, housing policy, and upward mobility. All three candidates brought to the forefront domestic issues, such as unaffordable housing, stagnating wages, an aging population, energy insecurity, and unsustainable entitlements, which stem from Taiwan’s high-income trap. However, the candidates had varying approaches to addressing and funding these challenges. For instance, Lai wishes to advance the Tsai administration’s policy of phasing out nuclear energy by 2025, whereas the KMT and TPP insist on extending the lifespans of Taiwan’s nuclear reactors to meet Taiwan’s increasing energy needs. These inter-party divisions and disagreements are significant because despite the DPP winning the presidency for an unprecedented third term, it lost its eight-year majority in the Legislative Yuan (the DPP won fifty-one seats, the KMT fifty-two, the TPP eight, and pro-KMT independents two). The Lai administration will thus have a weaker mandate to enact its policies. Notably, with none of the parties bagging the fifty-seven-seat minimum required to pass legislation, policy initiatives will inevitably take longer to pass, if at all. The election thus exposed emerging generational and socioeconomic fault lines. By allowing the DPP to gain control of both the executive and legislative branches in 2016 and 2020, voters expected the party to not only safeguard Taiwan’s autonomy but also make Taiwan a more prosperous and healthy society. This outcome of not awarding the DPP the legislative majority likely reflects the electorate’s dissatisfaction with DPP governance along with demand for stronger government accountability and tangible reforms. Many of Taiwan’s domestic issues are features of its high-income trap that will be difficult to solve without strong political will or partisan cooperation. Taiwan's healthcare system, despite its affordability and accessibility, is financially unsustainable, further exacerbated by a rapidly aging population. The three parties will need to agree on how to secure the necessary financial and labor resources. All these challenges prompt the question: Can Taiwan’s political parties rise above their differences to deliver on their promises? Beijing, for one, might be glad to see a more polarized and ineffective Taiwanese government. Three decades of democratic governance in Taiwan has only widened the gap between Taipei and Beijing. When Tsai Ing-wen entered office in 2016, Beijing closed official communication channels, continued isolating Taiwan in international society, enticed 10 countries to switch diplomatic relations from Taiwan to China (Nauru made the switch merely two days after the 2024 election), and escalated its gray-zone warfare. Yet Beijing’s immediate reaction to the election has been surprisingly muted. This deviation from the norm might indicate that Beijing has started to recognize the limits of mere coercive measures in gaining the favor of the Taiwanese people. Besides continued economic coercion, gray-zone warfare, and disinformation campaigns, Beijing will have to recalibrate its strategy to make its Taiwan policy work. The coming years will test the capabilities of both Beijing and Taipei in managing cross-Strait relations. Meanwhile, Taiwanese society has grown increasingly skeptical of the United States, which has been enhancing its political relationship with Taiwan but without enhancing its international standing or offering it tangible economic benefits. Amid rising tensions with China, the United States has dedicated considerable political capital to its relationship with Taiwan through arms sales and defense packages. However, the increased number of official visits to Taiwan has been perceived as largely symbolic. Although an initial bilateral trade agreement was signed in June 2023 under the United States-Taiwan Initiative on 21st-Century Trade, it provides Taiwan with no real market access to the United States. Moreover, U.S, policies aimed at containing China’s economic and technological expansion, especially in the semiconductor industry, continue to negatively impact Taiwan, which relies heavily on the information and communication technology sector for economic growth. Consequently, Taiwan’s semiconductor companies feel squeezed by U.S. policy. The next four years will test Taiwan’s resilience as a democracy in the face of geopolitical rivalry, climate crisis, diminishing socioeconomic prospects, and an aging society while being led by a divided government. The lack of a party majority in the Legislative Yuan will increase government accountability but at the risk of a legislative deadlock. This could further complicate Taiwan’s efforts to push through reforms and balance its interests between China and the United States. While the stakes are high for both China and the United States, they are even higher for the people of Taiwan.

Rapid geopolitical change is curtailing Russian power in the South Caucasus, boosting the influence of Middle Eastern countries and bookending the region’s “post-Soviet” history. The South Caucasus is undergoing a geopolitical transformation. The war in Ukraine and the effective resolution of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan mean that the region is entering a new age. Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia have gradually become more confident on the world stage, with each trying to limit its dependence on Russia by diversifying its foreign policy. Georgia has boosted relations with the European Union, China, and—to some extent—the United States, while Azerbaijan has sought closer ties with Turkey, Israel, Central Asia, and a number of European countries. Having gone through the traumatic loss of Nagorno-Karabakh, Armenia has pushed for closer engagement with the EU, rapprochement with Turkey, and even military links with India and some European states. Instead of an arena for competition between Russia and the West, the South Caucasus has turned into a highly congested geopolitical space, with up to six major powers vying for influence. We are not, however, just witnessing the end of the post-Soviet period. We are witnessing the end of exclusive Russian influence in the South Caucasus, which has been the status quo for almost two hundred years. The decline of Russian power has led to the reemergence of close links between the South Caucasus and the broader Middle East. Indeed, geography favors such a connection. Russia lies across the formidable Caucasus mountains, and Middle Eastern states have long regarded the South Caucasus as a natural continuation of their own territories. The deepening ties are visible in growing trade, investment, energy infrastructure, and railways that link the South Caucasus to two large neighboring powers: Turkey and Iran. Turkey is a key ally of Azerbaijan, and also enjoys close links with Georgia, while Armenia has Iran’s backing. In particular, Turkey has been pushing for the development of east-west connectivity that cuts through the traditional Russia-sponsored north-south infrastructure. The successful completion of the Baku-Tbilisi-Kars railway is one example; another is the push by Baku and Ankara to open a new route via Armenia’s southernmost province of Syunik. Iran, too, has scored significant victories. In October, it inked a deal with Baku on a new transit corridor linking Azerbaijan to its exclave of Nakhchivan via Iranian territory. Tehran has also advanced work on the International North-South Transport Corridor, which runs from southern Iran to Russia via Azerbaijan and the Caspian Sea. Other initiatives involve the development of roads through Armenia, which could provide solid links between Iran and Georgia’s Black Sea ports of Poti and Batumi. Energy infrastructure in the South Caucasus, too, is increasingly tied to the Middle East. Azerbaijan has become one of Turkey’s major gas suppliers, covering about 16 percent of the country’s needs in 2022, while Iran and Armenia have agreed to extend their gas trade agreement through 2030. The civil war in Syria showed how political and military developments in the Middle East impact the South Caucasus. For instance, residents of the Pankisi Gorge in Georgia volunteered to fight with radical Islamist groups in Syria and Iraq, sparking fears of terrorism spreading. Syria is also one of few countries that has recognized the independence of Georgia’s separatist regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. And the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War of 2020 allegedly saw Syrian soldiers fighting for Azerbaijan. Even beyond security, Armenia and Georgia have built robust relations with other prominent Middle Eastern countries. Saudi Arabia recently agreed to establish diplomatic relations with Armenia, which has also expanded its ties with other Gulf states. Similar trends are visible in Georgia’s relations with nations like Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Jordan. Other actors like Israel are also playing an increasingly active role. Israel’s relations with Azerbaijan are especially noteworthy, with the two states enjoying close military ties. Azerbaijan used high-tech Israeli weaponry to devastating effect in the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War, and, more recently, in September 2023, when it reclaimed full control over the disputed region. Azerbaijan is also a major supplier of oil to Israel, meeting as much as 40 percent of the country’s demand. Azerbaijan’s links with the Middle East mean that flare-ups between Israel and Iran could have local consequences. Iran has expressed concern about Israel allegedly using Azerbaijan for espionage activities, and Azerbaijan was one of just a few Muslim countries not to condemn Israel’s military operation in Gaza, sparking anger in Tehran. With an end to Russian dominance in the South Caucasus, it’s clear that the region is growing closer to the Middle East. Historically speaking, this is actually a return to normal practice, with Middle Eastern powers traditionally the most influential in the region. For Iran and Turkey, Russian hegemony was always an aberration. The process could yield benefits for the West. After all, shifting tectonic plates create opportunities for multiple actors to project power. But the EU and United States are limited by geographical distance, and the absence of significant economic levers. Turkey and Iran are both nearby, and eager to accrue more influence in the South Caucasus.

Prabowo Subianto has won Indonesia’s presidential election. Who is he, what will Joko Widodo’s influence be, and what does it mean for Indonesian democracy? Prabowo Subianto has achieved a resounding victory in the elections for the presidency of Indonesia with around 58 percent of the vote. Who is the new president of Indonesia? Prabowo is the ultimate insider whose entire life has been focused on keeping himself close to power, but his path to the presidency has been a long one. Born into an influential family, Prabowo joined the military in 1970, a pivotal institution at the time. He quickly rose through the ranks of the elite Special Forces (Kopasas), helped along by his 1983 marriage to then President Suharto’s daughter, Titiek. He was, however, sidelined after the fall of the Suharto regime in 1998 when he was dishonourably discharged from the military over allegations of human rights abuses. Despite this blow to his career, Prabowo used close family connections to go into business and re-emerged into public life as a multi-millionaire and aspiring candidate for the presidency. Prabowo stood unsuccessfully for the presidency in the 2009, 2014, and 2019 elections. In his first bid, he allied with Megawati Sukarnoputri, leader of Indonesia’s largest party and daughter of President Sukarno. In the following two elections he created motley coalitions of various parties, alliances that reflected both Prabowo’s highly movable political outlook, plus what has been called the “promiscuous” behaviour of Indonesia’s political parties. In the 2019 elections Prabowo conducted a bitterly divisive campaign against incumbent President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo, playing on deep divisions in Indonesia between those aiming for a more prominent role for Islamic values and those wanting to protect the diverse and tolerant character of Indonesian society. He also initially refused to accept the 2019 election outcome and briefly threatened to mount a campaign in the streets to overturn the results. But despite Prabowo’s bitter standoff against Jokowi in 2019, the two leaders apparently reconciled, with Jokowi’s surprise move of taking Prabowo into his camp as Defence Minister. While ostensibly remaining “neutral” in this year’s election, Jokowi signalled his support for Prabowo’s bid by arranging for his eldest son, Gibran Rakabuming Raka, to stand as Prabowo’s vice-presidential running mate. Jokowi is an immensely popular figure and his implicit backing provided critical momentum to Prabowo’s winning campaign. This is despite criticism of Jokowi that he is betraying his origins as a non-elite outsider and trying to build a political dynasty. What do these results mean for Indonesia’s major parties and leaders and what questions remain? This outcome represents the culmination of a lifetime effort by Prabowo to achieve the ultimate position of power in Indonesia. A key question is how he will conduct himself as president. He is known as a volatile figure, given to fits of anger, and seen as a military enforcer during the Suharto regime. While generally seen as an effective Defence minister, he was known for publicly putting forward ill-conceived proposals without presidential authorisation. The big question is how Prabowo will act as president. During this year’s campaign he was markedly more self-controlled, but it remains to be seen whether he will revert to his old authoritarian habits. Was he only acting when he appeared to be a threat to stability in the 2019 election or was he only acting when he seemed more moderate in this year’s poll? Will he become Indonesia’s version of Donald Trump or Vladimir Putin? Prabowo will need to build a coalition of parties to support his administration in parliament. Under Indonesia’s presidential system, the president does not need a parliamentary majority, but a troublesome parliament would be a major impediment for his presidency. While Prabowo swept the field in the presidential contest, his party, Gerindra, received only a small boost to its modest parliamentary vote. With his son as vice president and Prabowo in his debt, Jokowi is well placed to sustain his influence long after he leaves the presidential palace. Jokowi is very keen to protect his policy legacy and maintain the momentum of investment in infrastructure, including the building of a new capital city, and policies designed to encourage local Indonesian investment in processing the country’s natural resources. The relationship between incoming Prabowo and Jokowi will be one to watch. Although having Jokowi’s son as vice president was symbolically important during the election, the powers of the office are constitutionally undefined, and it is in Prabowo’s power to keep Gibran marginalised if he chooses. The election result was a massive blow to long-standing leader and would-be kingmaker Megawati and her party, the Democratic Party of Indonesia – Struggle (PDIP). Despite Jokowi’s formal status as a member of PDIP, he and Megawati had a difficult relationship, and he resented her efforts to treat him as a party subordinate. Jokowi took his huge political capital to another party, with the PDIP presidential candidate, Ganjar Pranowo, relegated to a humiliating third place. How PDIP conducts itself during Prabowo’s presidency remains in doubt. While the party narrowly retained its status as the largest party in parliament, it lost votes and is continuing a long-term decline from its glory days when it controlled nearly a third of parliamentary seats. PDIP may form the main opposition force to Prabowo’s administration, but it may be tempted to be bought off with a seat in cabinet. What does the outcome mean for Indonesian democracy? The formal process of the election appears once again to have been free and fair. The massive logistical task of running presidential elections on the same day as managing both national and regional parliamentary elections has been undertaken with the same effectiveness that has characterised Indonesia’s six democratic elections. But while the electoral process has been untainted, serious concerns are growing about the conduct of Indonesia’s political affairs and governance. Indonesia made great democratic progress after the fall of Suharto in 1998. This included the withdrawal of the military from politics, constitutional reform, and the flowering of non-government organisations, freedom of speech and media, as well as governance changes such as the creation of an anti-corruption commission and the devolution of power to the regions. From the beginning, however, concerns were expressed that the peaceful transfer of power had allowed most of the old players to reinvent themselves as democratic politicians but maintain the old ways of backroom politics. There was thus widespread optimism when Jokowi’s rise to the presidency in 2009 appeared to usher in a new type of leader – he came from the provinces, not from the old Jakarta circles and had won his national status as an honest and effective local administrator. But to secure his position in the face of potential obstruction from the old political elite, Jokowi resorted to the methods of that elite. Instead of changing the system, the system changed him. Jokowi used his presidential office to intervene in the internal affairs of other political parties to install leaders who supported him. He slashed the powers of the anti-corruption commission, partially reversed the devolution of authority to regional governments, and cracked down on non-government political movements. These backward steps are unlikely to be reversed under Prabowo – he may take them even further. Jokowi’s anointing of his son as vice-president is widely seen as the final sign of his incorporation into the elite and the triumph of dynastic politics. Dynastic succession has been a key feature of the elite’s grasp on power and now Jokowi has become a master of the game. An implicit alliance between Prabowo and Jokowi could become a way to choke off political competition. Prabowo’s election happened through a peaceful transfer of power, but it has cemented in place a system of governance that challenges the ideals of democratic politics that many Indonesians had looked to with hope during the heady days of reformasi after 1998.

Renewed major tensions have surfaced once again in the South China Sea between China and the Philippines. While the immediate concern revolves around the control of reefs and islets, the underlying issue extends to the control of maritime territories, driving the parties involved. These sovereignty disputes are not novel occurrences. Conflicts in the South China Sea (SCS) have intensified since the 1960s, leading to a competition for the occupation of islands and islets in the Paracels and Spratlys. The objective was to establish control over these islands, using them as military outposts and symbols of sovereignty. With the introduction of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), the rivalry transitioned towards the assertion of states' rights over maritime zones. The narrative of the parties involved has evolved regarding the legitimacy and legal characterization of the claimed maritime territories. Malaysia (1983), Vietnam (1994), and the Philippines (2009) have contended that the Spratly Islands do not merit an exclusive economic zone (EEZ), indirectly challenging China's claims. In response, Beijing has adjusted its official discourse. Is this shift in legal rhetoric a strategic reinterpretation of maritime law aimed at refuting adversaries' arguments and utilizing legal discourse as a political tool in a broader struggle for influence? An evolution in the legal discourse of Southeast Asian states In the South China Sea (SCS), a noticeable shift in the redefinition of maritime boundaries has emerged since 2009. Previously, definitions often lacked clarity and legal grounding. In recent years, Malaysia, Brunei, Vietnam, and the Philippines have sought to refine their claims, aligning them with the norms established by the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). This strategic move sharply contrasts with the trajectory of the People's Republic of China (PRC), whose evolving stance has been criticized for increasingly diverging from international maritime law. Between 1994 and 2016, China's assertion over the Maritime Claims (MCS) primarily relied on the controversial nine-dash line [九段线], criticized for its ambiguity regarding the extent and legal basis of the claimed maritime territory. However, since 2016, following the ruling by the Permanent Court of Arbitration, China's discourse has shifted towards the "Four Sha" theory [四沙], positing that large (sometimes fictional) archipelagos serve as the legal foundation for its maritime claims. This shift among the Southeast Asian players could be seen as a strategic move vis-à-vis China: by refining their claims to align more closely with the principles of the Law of the Sea, these nations might aim to underscore the inherently unlawful and objectionable nature of China's assertions. This tactic underscores an increasing disparity between Southeast Asian states, endeavoring to adjust their claims in accordance with international legal norms, and China, whose assertions are grounded in disputed interpretations of maritime law. The clash of legal discourses in the South China Sea The People's Republic of China (PRC) asserts its claim to the South China Sea (SCS) through what is commonly known as the nine-dash line (Fig. 1), a demarcation that has encompassed the majority of this maritime region since 1949. However, significant ambiguity persists regarding the precise meaning and scope of this demarcation, as China has yet to provide a clear explanation despite repeated requests from neighboring states. This lack of transparency has led to frustration among neighboring nations, prompting the Philippines to file a formal complaint with the Law of the Sea Tribunal in April 2013. The Chinese government's reluctance to clarify the exact nature and coordinates of the line has fueled suspicions regarding its true intentions. Even Indonesia, which does not have territorial claims in the South China Sea, expressed concerns about the legal uncertainty surrounding China's delineation of this maritime boundary in 2010. Before 2009, Southeast Asian countries involved in disputes over island formations or maritime zones in the South China Sea (SCS) had not clearly delineated their claims, either by providing legal justifications for their extensions or by publishing precise coordinates of the boundaries of the claimed maritime areas. However, on May 6, 2009, Malaysia and Vietnam submitted a joint proposal for the extension of their continental shelves in the southern part of the SCS, followed by Vietnam's independent submission for the central part of the SCS on May 7. By doing so, they publicly disclosed the positions of the outer limits of their respective Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs). Neither state included the island formations they claim in the SCS in the definition of their EEZs or extended continental shelves. Instead, the boundaries of the 200-mile zones are determined based on each state's coastline. For instance, both Malaysia and Vietnam have excluded the Spratly Islands from the definition of their maritime zones, indicating that they consider these island formations as rocks under Article 121(3) of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), which cannot generate either EEZs or continental shelves.  Are the states of Southeast Asia pursuing a political objective by modifying their legal discourse? There has been a notable evolution in the discourse of Southeast Asian states involved in the South China Sea conflict – Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia, and even Indonesia, which is not directly embroiled in the dispute over sovereignty in the Spratly Islands – regarding the status of these islands and their capacity to generate maritime zones. Changes in interpretation, qualifications, or legal doctrines, as well as efforts to define international norms, can potentially be seen as a mobilization of law to achieve political objectives. When questioned about the evolution of legal analyses among the protagonists in Southeast Asia, a majority of the interviewed specialists (20 out of 25) noted a clear shift in the discourse of these four countries. There is a consensus that they seek alignment with the principles of the Law of the Sea. These states are exploiting ambiguities in Article 121 for political purposes: it involves waging "legal guerrilla warfare" and "legal diplomacy" to underscore China's divergent stance and, implicitly, its disregard for the spirit of UNCLOS. Chinese Response: Reassessing Island Groups in the South China Sea? On July 12, 2016, the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague issued its ruling following the Philippines' claim filed in 2013. The Court's decision rebuffed Chinese assertions regarding historical rights and determined that none of the island formations in the Spratlys qualify as islands under Article 121, precluding them from generating an EEZ or continental shelf. China vehemently rejected this ruling, refusing to acknowledge the arbitration. However, Chinese rhetoric has shifted since 2016, indicating a willingness to adjust its arguments in light of the Court's findings. Before 2016, China asserted its sovereignty over the islands in the South China Sea without specifying the status of the Paracels or Spratlys island groups. However, since 2016, China has been advancing a new line of argumentation, grouping the island formations in the South China Sea into cohesive units. Chinese sovereignty is claimed to be derived from control over four blocks of islands forming coherent entities. It appears that Chinese legal experts are attempting to introduce a novel concept, as China cannot assert itself as an archipelagic State under UNCLOS. Such status would allow continental States to draw baselines around their archipelagos, which are considered territorial units. This concept faces significant challenge from numerous Western legal experts. Hence, in the Chinese narrative, there's a departure from discussing individual island groups or the ambiguous nine-dash line, towards emphasizing four archipelagos as the fundamental units of Chinese legal discourse. This shift, while sidestepping the PCA's 2016 ruling and distancing itself from the weakened concept of "island" due to the arbitration's denial of China's EEZ rights in the Spratlys, introduces the notion of archipelagos, purportedly enabling the creation of maritime zones in official discourse. However, this stance is dubious under the Law of the Sea, as it doesn't permit continental States to exploit the establishment of archipelagos outlined by lengthy baselines. Moreover, it doesn't authorize the generation of maritime zones from archipelagic entities if the islands constituting these archipelagos cannot themselves establish an EEZ or continental shelf.    Conclusion In the South China Sea, there has been a notable shift in legal positions by both China and the Southeast Asian states. Vietnam, the Philippines, and Malaysia are now advancing the argument that the islets fail to meet the criteria outlined in Article 121(3), thus negating the establishment of an EEZ or continental shelf. This reclassification not only impacts their own claims but, more significantly, challenges China's assertion of expansive maritime territories under international law. This strategic maneuvering appears to signify a politicized manipulation of maritime legal frameworks. Conversely, China has also undergone doctrinal evolution, transitioning from conventional maritime claims rooted in the Paracels and Spratlys islands, to the historically contentious nine-dash line, and most recently, the emergence of the "Four Shas" concept, positing four coherent archipelagos as the basis for EEZs. This progression aims to establish a novel legal foundation to defend its ambitious territorial claims. In essence, these legal transformations underscore the instrumentalization of law as a means to advance and safeguard national interests, with China advocating for a distinct interpretation of international legal norms.

Alexei Navalny was a giant figure in Russian politics. No other individual rivalled the threat he posed to the Putin regime. His death in an Arctic labour camp is a blow to all those who dreamed he might emerge as the leader of a future democratic Russia. What made Navalny so important was his decision to become an anti-corruption crusader in 2008. Using shareholder activism and his popular blog, he shone a spotlight on the corruption schemes that enabled officials to steal billions from state-run corporations. His breakthrough came in 2011, when he proposed the strategy of voting for any party but President Vladimir Putin’s “party of crooks and thieves” in the Duma (parliament) elections. Faced with a collapse of support, the regime resorted to widespread election fraud. The result was months of pro-democracy protests. Putin regained control through a mix of concessions and repression, but the crisis signalled Navalny’s emergence as the dominant figure in Russia’s democratic movement. Despite being convicted on trumped-up embezzlement charges, he was allowed to run in Moscow’s mayoral elections in 2013. In a clearly unfair contest, which included police harassment and hostile media coverage, he won 27% of the vote. Perseverance in the face of worsening attacks The authorities learned from this mistake. Never again would Navalny be allowed to compete in elections. What the Kremlin failed to stop was his creation of a national movement around the Foundation for the Struggle Against Corruption (FBK), which he had founded in 2011 with a team of brilliant young activists. During the ensuing decade, FBK transformed our understanding of the nature of Putin’s kleptocracy. Its open-source investigations shattered the reputations of numerous regime officials, security functionaries and regime propagandists. One of the most important was a 2017 exposé of the network of charities that funded the palaces and yachts of then-premier Dmitry Medvedev. Viewed 46 million times on YouTube, it triggered protests across Russia. No less significant was Navalny’s contribution to the methods of pro-democracy activism. To exploit the regime’s dependence on heavily manipulated elections, he developed a strategy called “intelligent voting”. The basic idea was to encourage people to vote for the candidates who had the best chance of defeating Putin’s United Russia party. The result was a series of setbacks for United Russia in 2019 regional elections. One measure of Navalny’s impact was the intensifying repression directed against him. As prosecutors tried to paralyse him with a series of implausible criminal cases, they also pursued his family. His younger brother Oleg served three and a half years in a labour camp on bogus charges. This judicial persecution was compounded by the violence of the regime’s proxies. Two months after exposing Medvedev’s corruption, Navalny was nearly blinded by a Kremlin-backed gang of vigilantes, who sprayed his face with a noxious blend of chemicals. More serious was the deployment of a death squad from Russia’s Federal Security Service (FSB), which had kept Navalny under surveillance since 2017. The use of the nerve agent Novichok to poison Navalny during a trip to the Siberian city of Tomsk in August 2020 was clearly intended to end his challenge to Putin’s rule. Instead it precipitated the “Navalny crisis”, a succession of events that shook the regime’s foundations. The story of Navalny’s survival – and confirmation that he had been poisoned with Novichok – focused international attention on the Putin regime’s criminality. Any lingering doubts about state involvement in his poisoning were dispelled by Navalny’s collaboration with Bellingcat, an investigative journalism organisation, to identify the suspects and deceive one of them into revealing how they poisoned him. The damage was magnified by Navalny’s decision to confront Putin’s personal corruption. In a powerful two-hour documentary film, A Palace for Putin, Navalny chronicled the obsessive greed that had transformed an obscure KGB officer into one of the world’s most notorious kleptocrats. With over 129 million views on YouTube alone, the film shattered the dictator’s carefully constructed image as the incarnation of traditional virtues. ‘We will fill up the jails and police vans’ It is difficult to exaggerate the impact of the “Navalny crisis” on Putin, a dictator terrified of the prospect of popular revolution. No longer was he courted by Western leaders. US President Joe Biden began his term in office in 2021 by endorsing an interviewer’s description of Putin as a “killer”. To contain the domestic fallout, Putin unleashed a crackdown that began with Navalny’s 2021 arrest on his return to Moscow from Germany, where had been recovering from the Novichok poisoning. On the international stage, Putin secured a summit with Biden by staging a massive deployment of military force on the Ukrainian border, a rehearsal for the following year’s invasion. The Kremlin’s trolling factories also tried to destroy Navalny’s reputation with a smear campaign. Within weeks of Navalny’s imprisonment, Amnesty International rescinded his status as a “prisoner of conscience” on the basis of allegations about hate speech. The evidence was some ugly statements made by Navalny as an inexperienced politician in the mid-2000s, when he was trying to build an anti-Putin alliance of democrats and nationalists. What his detractors ignored was Navalny’s own evolution into a critic of ethnonationalist prejudices. In a speech to a nationalist rally in 2011, he had challenged his listeners to empathise with people in the Muslim-majority republics of Russia’s northern Caucasus region. This divergence from the nationalist mainstream was accentuated by Putin’s conflict with Ukraine. After the invasion of Crimea in March 2014, Navalny denounced the “imperialist annexation” as a cynical effort to distract the masses from corruption. Eight years later, while languishing in prison, he condemned Putin’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, exhorting his compatriots to take to the streets, saying: If, to prevent war, we need to fill up the jails and police vans, we will fill up the jails and police vans. Later that year, he argued a post-Putin Russia needed an end to the concentration of power in the Kremlin and the creation of a parliamentary republic as “the only way to stop the endless cycle of imperial authoritarianism”. Navalny’s tragedy is that he never had a chance to convert the moral authority he amassed during years as a dissident into political power. Like Charles de Gaulle in France and Nelson Mandela in South Africa, he might have become a redemptive leader, leading his people from war and tyranny to the promised land of a freer society. Instead, he has left his compatriots the example of a brave, principled and thoughtful man, who sacrificed his life for the cause of democracy and peace. That is his enduring legacy.

How are the fluctuating tensions between Washington and Beijing over Taiwan expected to affect Israel? On January 13, William Lai, the leader of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), was elected president of Taiwan. A few days earlier, for the first time in four years, the United States-China Defense Policy Coordination Talks took place in Washington, marking the end of a prolonged round of tension between the two powers, which had peaked in August 2022 when the speaker of the US House of Representatives visited Taiwan. Taiwan is a major point of friction in the already tense relations between the two powers. Managing the disagreements between them has broad implications, including for Israel. The ongoing strategic rivalry between the two superpowers—the United States and China—is the most important geostrategic factor of our time. The two countries are vying for technological dominance and control over resources, that will shape our future, and infrastructure that is critical for civilian, economic, and military purposes. The United States and China are also competing for global influence by forming partnerships and trying to influence world order, including its values, institutions, and mechanisms that regulate it. Can they shape the rules of the competition between them without spiraling into a military conflict that would have devastating global consequences? Taiwan may be the most volatile flashpoint in the complicated relationship between the two powers. For China, the “reunification” with Taiwan is one of its “core interests”—a top objective and a flagship issue in its foreign policy. Although the United States has repeatedly declared that it is committed to the “one China” policy, it is also an ally of Taiwan. The United States has warned China to refrain from making unilateral, aggressive moves vis-à-vis Taiwan, while supplying Taiwan with military resources to deter China and prevent a forceful takeover. Since assuming power in 2013, President Xi Jinping of China has repeatedly emphasized Taiwan’s unification with China as a key objective. During a meeting with President Joe Biden in November 2023, President Xi said that China “prefers” a peaceful unification, but he did not dismiss the use of force. On the eve of Taiwan’s 2024 elections, President Xi further stated that unification is “inevitable.” The tensions between the powers over Taiwan had escalated following the previous elections on the island in 2020. During this period, senior American officials visited Taiwan, and the United States and Taiwan signed weapons deals in August and September of that year, followed by a marked increase in Chinese military aircraft penetrating the island’s air defense identification zone and crossing the “midline” between the island and mainland China. China’s perception of encirclement was further heightened by the United States’ strengthening of its alliances and initiatives in the Indo-Pacific region (such as QUAD, AUKUS, and IPEF) and by the increased diplomatic pressure exerted on China, through boycotting the 2022 Winter Olympics and protesting its human rights record. But even during this period, despite rising tensions, the two nations maintained ongoing communications, including the Alaska talks in March 2021—although they were notably tense—and the meeting between the presidents in November of that year. The tension peaked in April 2022, when then Speaker of the US House of Representatives Nancy Pelosi announced her intention to visit Taiwan. China strongly protested, and the White House even recommended Pelosi to reconsider her visit due to concerns about potential military escalation. Pelosi refused and proceeded with her visit in August, delivering a speech at the Taiwanese legislature and advocating for increased American–Taiwanese cooperation. In an article published in the United States before her visit, Pelosi wrote that “at a time when the world faces a choice between autocracy and democracy . . . it is essential that America and our allies make clear that we never give in to autocrats.”   In response to Pelosi’s visit, China held a large-scale military exercise that disrupted air and maritime traffic in the region and released a white paper emphasizing “The Taiwan Question and China’s Reunification in the New Era.” Furthermore, as a countermeasure to Pelosi’s visit, the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs announced that it was suspending all dialogue and cooperation with the United States, including dialogues between the military commands, the ministries of defense (DPCT), and the maritime military coordination (MMCA), and cooperation in the fields of illegal immigration, criminal legal assistance, transnational crimes, counternarcotics, and climate change. In November 2022, presidents Biden and Xi met in Bali, Indonesia, in an attempt to put the relations between the two powers back on track. After the meeting, the White House issued a statement announcing that the United States will continue to compete actively with China, but the two countries must manage their competition responsibly, without letting it escalate, while maintaining open channels of communication and continuing to cooperate on global issues such as climate change, counternarcotics, debt relief, health, and food security. Regarding Taiwan, the United States reiterated its commitment to the one China policy but strongly opposed China’s aggressive actions, which violate peace and stability in the Strait and in the entire region. The Chinese also released a statement, noting that President Xi highlighted that Taiwan is a core Chinese interest and constitutes a red line that is nonnegotiable in the relations between the two countries. It was anticipated that the year 2023 would begin on a more positive tone, with US Secretary of State Antony Blinken’s scheduled visit to China in February. The visit was canceled when a Chinese balloon was discovered floating over US territory for a week until the US Air Force intercepted it. Although the White House at first tried to downplay the incident, with President Biden initially referring to it as a “minor breach” and said that the Chinese government was unaware of the issue. China claimed that a weather monitoring and research balloon had strayed off course. Public pressure, however, led the administration to cancel Blinken’s visit. Subsequently, the US Department of Commerce imposed restrictions on six Chinese companies linked to balloon and aviation technologies that are used by the Chinese military, requiring that they receive special approval to access American technology. In April and May, China retaliated at a relatively low bar by imposing sanctions on a US member of Congress who visited Taiwan and sentenced an American citizen living in Hong Kong to life imprisonment, for alleged espionage for the United States. These actions reflect the efforts of both China and the United States to take focused, restrained measures, to avoid escalating tensions. The absence of a strong reaction from China to the establishment of a select committee within the US House of Representatives, focused on examining the US–China strategic competition, suggests that China sought to prevent further escalation of the conflict.   Efforts to end the crisis and restore talks were renewed in May 2023 when the head of the CIA met with his Chinese “counterparts.” In June, US Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin and Chinese Minister of Defense Wei Fenghe met on the sidelines of the Shangri-La conference in Singapore. Secretary of State Blinken’s anticipated visit to China took place later that month. In July, US Special Envoy for Climate John Kerry and Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen traveled to China, followed by a visit of US Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo in August. These high-level meetings concluded on a note of cautious optimism, with both sides acknowledging “progress” but not a “solution,” as the purpose of the meetings was to stabilize relations rather than to resolve the issues in dispute. In September 2023, Secretary of the Treasury Yellen and Chinese Finance Minister He Lifeng launched two new working groups on economic and financial issues. Moreover, Pentagon officials and their Chinese counterparts met and discussed the US Department of Defense’s cyber strategy, followed by a meeting of the American and Chinese presidents in San Francisco in November. The American efforts to renew the military dialogue between the two countries was initially met with refusal by China until December, when General Brown, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, spoke with his Chinese counterpart General Liu Zhenli. In early January 2024, a few days before the elections in Taiwan, the annual Defense Policy Coordination Talks between the two countries were held at the Pentagon for the first time in four years. These developments reflect China’s acute sensitivity toward the Taiwan issue and its willingness to take significant measures against perceived violations of its One China Policy, especially by the United States. Despite numerous disputes, the growing rivalry between them, the defiant measures, and the reciprocal sanctions, these events highlight that the two powers recognize the importance of keeping channels of communication open. This dialogue is crucial for pursuing shared interests, resolving disputes, and minimizing the risk of military escalation that could have far-reaching consequences for both nations as well as the global community. The ongoing tension between the United States and China over Taiwan also has implications for Israel. First, the increasing friction between the powers has accelerated the formation of two opposing camps and has limited Israel’s ability to maneuver between them. As demonstrated (again) since the outbreak of the war between Israel and Hamas, the United States is Israel’s greatest friend and its most important strategic ally. While China is an important economic partner of Israel, its policy is not that of a friend, and its oppositional stance toward Israel has the potential to cause significant damage. The United States expects its allies to stand by its side and to align more closely with its policies vis-à-vis China, especially concerning advanced technologies and critical infrastructure. Failing to meet US expectations could strain US–Israel relations. Second, a military escalation between the United States and China would also have global economic consequences, seriously disrupting supply chains of raw materials and essential goods crucial to Israel. Finally, the US administration recently linked the military aid granted to Israel to that of both Taiwan and Ukraine, framing them as three democracies under threat. While this linkage underscores the US commitment to its allies, it also creates constraints and interdependencies. The attention and resources that the United States currently allocates to Israel and to the broader challenges in the Middle East could be compromised if the United States faces serious military crises elsewhere in the world, and this could have far-reaching impacts on Israel.

The EU should try to attract more business from Taiwan, though Taiwan’s January 2024 election hasn’t made the job easier Taiwan’s economy has transformed since 2016 under the leadership of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). In particular, the Taiwanese economy has diversified away from mainland China, while reliance on semiconductors is now even more acute than eight years ago. In elections in January, the DPP won the presidency for a third term but lost overall control of Taiwan’s parliament, the Legislative Yuan. In contrast to the previous two terms, the DPP therefore needs to agree policy, including economic policy, with other parties. this could signal a softer approach in relation to the continuation of diversification away from the mainland. Ongoing diversification Mainland China remains Taiwan’s biggest export and investment destination, despite the share of Taiwan’s exports that go to China reducing from 40 percent on average between 2016 and 2019 to 35 percent in 2023 (Figure 1). This has happened even though Taiwan signed a free trade agreement with mainland China in 2010 – the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA) – which at the time led to an increase in Taiwanese exports to the mainland. The COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 also triggered a sharp increase as the rest of the world entered a deep recession, but the trend has not lasted. Since 2021, the share of Taiwanese exports going to the mainland has dropped significantly, influenced by US export controls on high-end semiconductors, with a clear knock-on effect on Taiwanese exporters.   Taiwanese FDI into mainland China has also shrunk rapidly, from 65 percent of total Taiwanese FDI on average from 2008-2016 to 34 percent on average from 2017-2023 (Figure 2). The difference between these periods is that in the former, Taiwan was governed by the Kuomintang (KMT, Chinese Nationalist Party), which favours closer relations with the mainland, while in the latter period the DPP was in charge. There are both geopolitical and economic reasons for mainland China’s falling share of Taiwanese FDI. First, the ECFA trade and investment agreement, reached under the first term of KMT President Ma Ying-jeou, was not extended when a new round of negotiations started in 2012, to include technological cooperation, finance and people-to-people exchanges. A broader economic agreement between Taiwan and the mainland, mostly focusing on services – the Cross-Strait Service Trade Agreement (CSSTA) – fell victim to lack of consensus among Taiwan’s main political parties, increased tensions in the Taiwan Straits and student protests in Taiwan (the so-called Sunflower movement) in 2014.1 Second, with the DPP victory in 2016, the new Southbound Policy 2 was launched, offering incentives for Taiwanese companies investing in 18 Asian countries, including ASEAN 3, India and other South Asian and Australasian nations. In addition, rising labour costs in mainland China, the ongoing trade war between the US and China, an increased regulatory burden in the mainland and political tensions between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait also pushed Taiwanese businesses to look elsewhere to invest. -    The new political reality and geographical diversification While the election-winning DPP wants to see further diversification away from the mainland, the more pro-China party, the KMT, wants reinforced economic relations with China.4 Because of the now-hung parliament, the DPP will need to take some of the KMT’s wishes into account it wants pass new rules, including those related to geographical diversification. Beyond the two parties’ preferences, two other important issues also need to be factored in. First, geographical diversification requires open markets but Taiwan is increasingly unable to open any market through trade or investment deals. Taiwan has spent the last eight years negotiating bilateral deals with its closest allies, Japan and the US, but the DPP administration has not even been able to complete these. Incoming President Lai has said that Taiwan should continue to push to be part of the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP), to which it applied in September 2021, but the reality is that Taiwan’s application has little hope of success. China officially applied to be a member of the CPTTP only a couple of days before Taiwan. Since then, the United Kingdom has become a member of CPTTP, but the negotiation processes with Taiwan and mainland China have not started. Australian’s prime minister, Anthony Albanese, has expressed severe doubts about Taiwan’s ability to become member of CPTTP because of lack of international recognition of it as a nation-state.5 Second, while the DPP is likely to continue to offer more fiscal incentives to promote diversification in Southeast Asia and India (under the Southbound Policy), the fastest-growing destination for both exports and foreign direct investment from Taiwan is the United States, followed by Japan. This can be explained by the ongoing artificial intelligence revolution, which needs semiconductors, and the decisions of some key Taiwanese chip companies (especially TSCM) to open factories overseas for chip production, with the US and Japan as the most important destinations. In other words, the DPP’s push for geographical diversification might not be the main reason why diversification has happened; rather, it has been driven by market forces and business opportunities. This also means that the KMT push to maintain – if not deepen – economic ties with mainland China might not succeed unless China’s currently underwhelming economic performance turns around. Implications for the European Union So far, the EU has benefitted little from Taiwan’s trade and investment diversification, at least when compared to the US and the rest of Asia. The EU’s export share into Taiwan has remained practically stagnant (while the US has doubled its share), notwithstanding a large increase in exports from the Netherlands for a single item – ASML’s lithography machines for chip production. The EU lacks a trade or investment deal with Taiwan, but so do some of Taiwan’s other trading partners, including the US. Considering that the EU is the largest foreign direct investor in Taiwan, the question arises of whether the EU should do more to foster more bilateral economic relations. The gains could be substantial, especially from inbound FDI as Taiwanese investment focuses on high-end manufacturing. There has been some movement. A €5 billion investment in France by a Taiwanese company (ProLogium) was announced in May 2023 to build a battery factory 6 . TSMC announced in August 2023 a €4.5 billion investment in a semiconductor factory in Germany 7 . But for the EU to catch up with Japan and the US as a recipient of outbound FDI from Taiwan, the result of Taiwan’s elections could be an obstacle. This is because the DPP will have less control of the economic agenda because it does not control the Legislative Yuan. The close-to-impossible negotiation of a trade and investment deal between the EU and Taiwan – as shown by Taiwan’s difficulties in relation to Japan, the US and the CPTTP – does not point to any improvement in the institutional framework for economic relations to improve. The question, then, is what can the EU offer to attract high-end foreign direct investment from Taiwan? Subsidies to attract semiconductor factories cannot be the only answer, given the very large amounts needed and the pressure such subsidies put on EU member states’ already stretched finances (Legarda and Vasselier, 2023). Working with business associations and chambers should be a key driving force to improve business relations between Taiwan and the EU, especially considering that the EU is the largest foreign foreign direct investor in Taiwan, while Taiwanese companies have been absent from the EU single market until recently. Overall, the US and the rest of Asia have been the main winners from Taiwan’s rapid diversification of its economy away from mainland China. The EU, which is lagging, should work to enhance its economic exchanges with Taiwan. Hopefully the January 2024 election results will facilitate this. Most importantly, the EU should aim to attract more high-tech FDI from Taiwan. Unfortunately, a better institutional framework through a trade/investment deal seems highly unlikely, for geopolitical reasons. This puts all the burden on chambers of commerce and other forums to improve business relations. References 1- The Sunflower Movement was a student-led protest that occuped Taiwan’s Legislative Yuan to put pressure on the KMT government against signing a second cooperation deal with mainland China. See Ho (2018). 2- See the New Southbound Policy portal at https://nspp.mofa.gov.tw/nsppe/. 3- Brunei, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam. 4- Alicia García-Herrero, ‘Taiwan’s future economic direction hinges on the election outcome’, First glance, 12 January 2024, Bruegel https://www.bruegel.org/first-glance/taiwans-future-economic-direction-… 5- Claudia Long and Stephen Dziedzic, ‘Albanese says Australia is unlikely to support Taiwan 6- France24, ‘Taiwanese battery maker Prologium to invest €5 billion in French factory’, 12 May 2023, https://www.france24.com/en/europe/20230512-taiwanese-battery-maker-pro…. 7- DW, ‘Taiwan’s TSMC to build semiconductor factory in Germany’, 8 August 2023, https://www.dw.com/en/taiwans-tsmc-to-build-semiconductor-factory-in-ge…. Ho, M.-S. (2018) ‘The Activist Legacy of Taiwan’s Sunflower Movement’, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2 August, available at https://carnegieendowment.org/2018/08/02/activist-legacy-of-taiwan-s-sunflower-movement-pub-76966 Legarda, H. and A. Vasselier (2023) ‘Navigating Taiwan relations in 2024: Practical considerations for European policy makers’, China Horizons, 21 December, available at https://chinahorizons.eu/our-research/policy-briefs/278-navigating-taiwan-relations-in-2024-practical-considerations-for-european-policy-makers

Italy top, Vatican flop? The first war of aggression in Europe since 1945 is keeping two global players busy in Rome: the Italian government and Vatican diplomacy. While under the leadership of President Sergio Mattarella and Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni there is no doubt about Italy's unbroken solidarity with Ukraine, criticism of the Holy See's course to date is growing, and not just in Catholic circles. Is Pope Francis' longed-for reconciliation with the Russian Orthodox Church more important than the future fate of Ukraine? When the right-wing alliance of Giorgia Meloni, Matteo Salvini and Silvio Berlusconi took power in Rome in October 2022, there was concern in some European government headquarters that the Tiber might be about to change its stance on the war in Ukraine. This mistrust was less directed at the newly elected Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, known as an Atlanticist, who had clearly positioned herself and her party "Fratelli d'Italia" against Moscow's war of aggression and Putin's expansionist ambitions during the election campaign, and more towards her two allies Lega and Forza Italia. Both parties were perceived internationally as Russia-friendly, albeit for different reasons: While in the case of Lega leader Matteo Salvini - similar to his ally Marine Le Pen in France - it was the ideological proximity of the anti-European right-wing populists to the authoritarian regime in Moscow, in the case of the bourgeois-conservative Forza Italia it was Silvio Berlusconi's long-standing personal friendship with Vladimir Putin that triggered fears of Italy's rapprochement with Moscow. These were further fueled by several erratic statements by Berlusconi during the coalition negotiations in autumn 2022, in which he openly adopted the Kremlin's view of the Ukraine conflict and thus caused severe irritation among the allies. His adlatus at the time, Antonio Tajani, felt compelled to fly to Brussels at short notice to hold talks with the heads of the EU Commission, NATO and the European People's Party to reassure them that the new right-wing government in Rome would by no means abandon the EU's common line, but would remain faithful to its commitments. Berlusconi's capers and Salvini's ricochet The situation was different in the case of the right-wing populist Lega, which had achieved a historically poor result of just eight percent in the early elections in September 2022. Giorgia Meloni therefore had her rival Matteo Salvini in her hands and was able to demand loyalty from the potential troublemaker. At the time, the designated head of government openly threatened her two partners with a collapse of the coalition negotiations: there would be "no joint government at any price". She played her cards close to her chest and in the end even brought Silvio Berlusconi into line, who had to make a pilgrimage to the Fratelli d'Italia party headquarters to recant his pro-Moscow remarks. A humiliation for which the Forza Italia patriarch has never forgiven her. Since Berlusconi's death, the capers have ceased: under the leadership of Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani, Forza Italia is clearly on the side of its Western allies and in line with the EPP. With the approval of the President (who can veto appointments to the government), Meloni chose Guido Crosetto, who originally came from the ranks of the Christian Democrats and is known as an anti-Russian hardliner, as Defense Minister. The fears of the Western partners that one of the most important NATO states could leave the joint phalanx against Putin were put to rest. Meloni counters Putin's friends Meloni set further signals: The memorable joint trip of the three European leaders Mario Draghi, Emmanuel Macron and Olaf Scholz to Kiev on June 16, 2022 was still fresh in the minds of Ukrainians suffering from a daily hail of bombs, as Meloni made one of her first trips abroad to Kiev in February 2023 to personally assure President Volodymyr Zelensky of Italy's unwavering solidarity. The two had previously met at various international summits and the chemistry between them was instant. Since then, they have openly celebrated their cordial friendship in front of the cameras at every meeting. Under Meloni's aegis, there has been no hesitation or dithering in Rome on the Ukraine issue to date: Italy is supplying Ukraine with weapons and, together with its German allies, is monitoring the airspace on Europe's south-eastern flank and in the Black Sea from Romania. Rome is also firm in its sanctions policy against Russia: Dozens of accounts, real estate, ships and works of art belonging to Russian oligarchs on the EU sanctions list have been confiscated by the "Guardia di Finanza", the state financial police. And in the area of energy policy, Meloni has maintained the course of her predecessor Mario Draghi, who concluded supply contracts with a whole series of African, Arab and Central Asian states in order to quickly free Italy from its energy dependence on Moscow. During a working visit to Berlin last November, when Meloni and German Chancellor Olaf Scholz were connected via video to the first OSCE meeting of heads of state and government since the start of the war, which was also attended by Vladimir Putin, she showed herself to be quick-witted. When the Kremlin ruler demanded a quick end to the war, Meloni immediately countered: "You can have that immediately. All you have to do is withdraw your troops." British Prime Minister Richi Sunak expressly thanked his counterpart for her "global leadership". And US President Joe Biden also never misses an opportunity to praise Meloni for her clear stance in the conflict. However, their closest ally in the Ukraine issue is President Sergio Mattarella. With all the authority of his office and his unbroken popularity, he explains the moral and ethical dimension of the major conflict to his fellow countrymen in detailed formulations at every available opportunity. In doing so, he takes the wind out of the sails of populists on the left and right who - as in Germany - criticize high military spending and complain about rising inflation as a result of "Western interference" in the war in Ukraine. In matters of foreign and security policy, head of state Mattarella, who is also commander-in-chief of the armed forces in accordance with the constitution, has so far had no reason to get in the prime minister's way. Is the Pope a friend of Russia? On the other side of the Tiber, in the Vatican, however, there are increasing question marks. Of course, the head of the Catholic Church has always and at every available opportunity lamented the suffering of the people in "martyred Ukraine" and called for an immediate end to the fighting. It goes without saying that the Holy See stands by the victims and is doing everything in its power to organize humanitarian aid and bring it into the country. Naturally, the Roman Curia has tried everything behind the scenes to mediate and explore possible negotiated solutions. Accusing the Pope of "moral equidistance" from the attackers and victims is therefore misguided. However, Francis does indeed have to put up with the accusation of "political equidistance". The Holy See is traditionally committed to a policy of neutrality, which aims to use the Pope's unbroken spiritual and moral authority as a non-partisan mediator to resolve a conflict. For this reason, the Holy See always acts discreetly on the international stage and has the long-term perspective in mind. Its actors are not subject to any democratic pressure to succeed and are generally not interested in winning points in the media. However, two years after the start of the Russian war of aggression against Ukraine, it is clear that the world's oldest diplomatic service has fallen far short of expectations. For many observers, the problem lies in particular in Pope Francis' unclear position. It took seven months after the start of the Russian invasion of Ukraine for the pontiff to name the attack as such for the first time and to publicly name Russia as the aggressor for the only time to date. Like so many other heads of state, the pontiff was probably unable to imagine until that February 24, 2022, that Putin would allow Russia's tanks to roll towards Kiev, triggering the biggest war in Europe since 1945. The Kremlin ruler had met Francis in person at the Vatican an astonishing three times in the preceding years. Is Francis a "Russia-understander" who is lenient with the aggressors? Many Vatican observers are now asking themselves this question. It is no secret that the Pope "from the other side of the world" (as Francis put it on the day of his election) has a different approach to European history and European sensitivities than his immediate predecessors John Paul II and Benedict XVI. Jorge Mario Bergoglio, an Argentinian who was influenced by social-authoritarian Peronism as a child, does not have an unreservedly positive attitude towards the Western model of order. The first pope to come from Latin America can be said to have a critical view of the USA. It can be assumed that his experiences with the Trump presidency have not diminished his prejudices towards Washington's claim to international leadership. On the other hand, he has a certain soft spot for Russian classics from literature and music as well as for Russian history, as he himself revealed in a video link to a meeting of Catholic youths in Saint Petersburg. Tensions between Pope and Parolin In terms of church policy, there are also two ambitious goals that the 87-year-old has set himself since his election in 2013: Understanding with Beijing and rapprochement with the Russian Orthodox Church. He has been lenient to the point of self-denial with the political leaders of both powers; he has remained silent about some human rights violations and repression - including against Catholic clergy. A strategy that has repeatedly caused heated discussions in the highest circles of the world church - and not only among notorious critics of Francis. Years ago, the Pope tasked his Secretary of State Cardinal Pietro Parolin, a career Vatican diplomat and conflict expert whom Bergoglio had already come to know and appreciate as Archbishop of Buenos Aires, with the diplomatic implementation. With his help, a bishop of Rome met with a patriarch of Moscow for the first time in February 2016. Today, the two former confidants Francis and Parolin are considered to be at odds - and this is precisely where Putin's war comes into play. Soon after the invasion, Francis caused head-shaking in many places when, from a pacifist position, he refused to supply any weapons to Kiev and thus indirectly denied Ukraine's internationally enshrined right to self-defense. Cardinal Secretary of State Parolin and the Vatican "Foreign Minister" Paul Richard Gallagher, a Briton, corrected these statements in several interviews and corrected their own boss. Of course, they both argued, Ukraine, as a sovereign state, had the right to defend its territorial integrity, and the supply of military equipment and weapons was ethically justifiable. The "Kyrill card" After Putin was unavailable for his calls, Francis played another card: his personal relationship with Moscow Patriarch Cyril. Here, too, the experts warned the Pope that the head of the Russian Orthodox Church would be in the service of the Kremlin. Nevertheless, the pontiff played the "Cyril card". Francis was probably hoping that he could "turn" the patriarch politically with Jesuit cunning. To this day, his literal response to Parolin and Gallagher's warnings is still reported: "But Cyril is still a shepherd!" As expected, the "Cyril card" failed. Francis' bitter realization that the patriarch was an "altar boy of the Kremlin" came too late. The view that the Pope was a "Russophile" had long since become firmly established in Kiev. The suspicion of Russia-friendliness is fueled less by concrete actions than by the pontiff's omissions: to date, he has never addressed Putin directly in all his countless appeals for peace. He could have borrowed from a great predecessor: Immediately before the start of the Iraq war in 2003, Pope John-Paul II addressed US President George W. Bush at the Sunday Angelus prayer in front of running cameras and fervently implored him to refrain from the planned attack. When the city of Sarajevo was besieged for months during the civil war in the former Yugoslavia, triggering a humanitarian catastrophe, the Pope from Poland appointed the archbishop of the bombed-out Bosnian capital, the then 48-year-old Vinco Puljic, as its first cardinal in history in 1994. Three consistories with the appointment of new cardinals have taken place in Rome since the beginning of the Russian invasion of Ukraine: But the Ukrainians have so far waited in vain for a similar sign, although a suitable candidate is available in the figure of the Greek-Catholic Grand Archbishop Svyatoslav Shevchuk of Kiev. Diplomatic self-restraint of the Pope Francis appointed a high-ranking special mediator far too late: However, Cardinal Matteo Zuppi's shuttle mission between Moscow, Kiev, Washington and Beijing is now considered a failure. It seems that Kiev has lost hope that Vatican diplomacy will have a positive effect. At the same time, Moscow seems to be relying more on the mediation of the United Arab Emirates as the representative of the "global South" than on the Holy See as the supposed representative of the Western world when it comes to humanitarian actions such as the exchange of prisoners. Most serious, however, is the fact that Francis has so far refused any invitation to Kiev. He always repeats the same mantra that he will only travel to the Ukrainian capital if he is allowed to visit Moscow first. Either there is a secret plan behind this curious self-restraint on the part of the pontiff, which even close confidants among the cardinals are unable to see through, or it is a diplomatic staircase joke: Putin is unlikely to have the slightest interest in such a double trip by the Roman pontiff. And even if he did, a visit to Moscow by the Pope would probably give Vladimir Putin the biggest propaganda coup in his long time in office. Months ago, President Zelensky's security advisor announced that Kiev was no longer interested in a Vatican mediation mission. A resounding slap in the face for the Holy See's diplomacy in the most dangerous crisis in Europe since the end of the Second World War.

Last Sunday, Chile made a U-turn in constitutional matters, that is to say, after four years of experimentation and going to the polls five times, it went back to square one. By 55.8% against 44.2%, citizens said no to the second constitutional proposal presented to them in little more than a year. In September 2022, the text of the first Convention had been rejected by 61.8%, with only 38% support. These are the six keys to understand the result: 1.- A process that started badly Last Sunday, the constituent process that began in November 2019 under the blackmail of violence came to an end. As a result of the outbreak that occurred in October of that year, the government of former President Piñera promoted a transversal agreement in Congress that began the replacement of the Constitution drafted during the Pinochet dictatorship, which had been extensively reformed in democracy. In fact, the last major reform to that text was in 2005 during the government of former President Lagos. The changes made there were so important that Lagos introduced a norm to replace Pinochet's signature and, when he promulgated the new text, he said that Chile finally had a fully democratic Constitution. Many say that if a plebiscite had been held there, the constitutional issue would probably have been settled. It was not done and, a few years later, the most extreme left began to demand a constituent assembly to draft a new Constitution made fully democratic. 2. The Constitution was never the problem, nor the solution. The first constitutional proposal was submitted to a plebiscite on September 4, 2022. The extreme left had the votes to draft a text as they wished and so they did. They put into it their refoundational political project, which destroyed liberal democracy, divided the Chilean nation, asphyxiated individual freedom, eliminated controls to political power and put an end to equality before the law. President Boric's government was its main promoter, and the text was rejected by a majority not only by the right but also by a large part of the center-left. Probably last Sunday's results can be explained by what happened there. Chileans, during the work of that convention and with the text proposed to them, understood that their problems were not constitutional as they had been led to believe for years. 3.- A hasty agreement Chile had approached the abyss and the triumph of the rejection of that first text was celebrated transversally by the democratic forces and by the citizens, who perhaps at one point agreed with a new Constitution, but not with a new country invented from scratch. A few days after that plebiscite, the opposition rushed to reach an agreement with the ruling party to initiate a second constituent process. It is true that this time limits were set to avoid the excesses of the first one, but the truth is that it was never understood that everything had to start all over again. It would have been more reasonable to redirect the constituent issue in the National Congress from where it should never have left. A Council was elected in which this time the Republican Party had a majority, the only one that left the agreement. That is to say, the people elected a majority of those who did not want to insist on the elaboration of a new proposal. Last Sunday, citizens were fed up with politicians from different parties who insisted, over and over again, that the constitutional issue was the problem. People felt, and rightly so, that they had already voted and never agreed with this second process. 4.- A plebiscite without drama Unlike last September's plebiscite in which Chile's democratic destiny was at stake, last Sunday people did not see drama or epic in what was being voted. That is to say, either a new text was approved, which for some updated and improved the current one (for the left it was a step backwards), or the same one was continued. After decades of attacks to the current Constitution, blaming it for all the injustices and claiming that they could not govern with it, the left arrived at last Sunday's plebiscite sunk in indignity. During the campaign, they went from talking about "Pinochet's Constitution" to "Ricardo Lagos' Constitution" and even declared to feel comfortable with it. 5.Government, relief rather than triumph Nobody would have imagined that this whole process would end with a leftist Government sleeping relieved because the current Constitution is still in force. The triumph of the proposed new Constitution would have meant its third consecutive electoral defeat. The first one was to the text of the Convention last year; the second one, in the election of councilors for the new process. A third one would have meant a very hard blow for a Government with scarce support and wide levels of popular rejection. On the other hand, there are no more excuses. Chile's most serious problems are not constitutional and the citizens seem tired of shouting without anyone listening to them. The Government, relieved, but with nothing to celebrate, must face a serious corruption scandal that has been installed at the doors of La Moneda; a country where nobody feels safe and authorities that lack credibility to face violence; a serious economic stagnation; an imminent crisis in the health system; and also face an education without an agenda and with thousands of children paying the costs of the bad reforms pushed and approved by those who govern today. 6.- Future of the opposition The right wing and the political forces of the center united to campaign in favor of this second constitutional proposal. Sunday's defeat does not change too much the configuration within the opposition. José Antonio Kast, former presidential candidate and leader of the Republican Party, who had the majority in this new constitutional council, obtains, in the end, the same percentage as in the last presidential second round. It is not enough for him to win, but he does not regress in popular support. And Republicans added to Chile Vamos (center-right coalition) maintain, practically, the same votes they obtained in the election of councilors. That is to say, the scenario remains open for the next presidential elections without any figure being irremediably damaged nor any particularly strengthened. President Boric, on Sunday night, wanted to take advantage of the result by forcing a wrong interpretation. He pointed out that people were asking for agreements and, therefore, he was calling the opposition to join his pension and tax reforms. The result of the plebiscite can be interpreted just the opposite, as the death of the last great political agreement, hasty, made with the people's back turned. That is to say, the Government hopes that the right wing has not learned anything from what happened; that to a bad constitutional agreement, which the people never supported, it will now add votes for a lousy tax and pension agreement. The right wing should devote itself to building a broad and coherent political project to solve the problems and not to aggravate them. Citizens seem to be fed up with ministers and parliamentarians signing agreements only because it suits them in the photo or they are uncomfortable to subtract themselves from it. Today there are many oppositions in Chile and it is essential that they have their own profile so that more citizens feel represented by them. It is necessary to add up and for that unity must be taken care of. It is not possible to disqualify them one day and the next morning try to close pacts with them. The opposition must be proportional to the damage that this Government is causing and, at the same time, it must quickly turn the page of the constitutional issue to build a recognizable political alternative. One cannot expect to win just because of how badly the left in power is doing. That is not enough. In what happened on Sunday there is also something to learn from that.

Why does independentism appeal to Article 92 of the Constitution? Nobody should be surprised that the independentism -this is valid for the Catalan and Basque nationalism, without excluding the Galician one- appeals to article 92 of the Constitution. An appeal that is the fruit of a failure and a success. The failure of more than one hundred years of history in which nationalism -especially Catalan nationalism- sought by all means the support to hold a referendum of self-determination: "principle of nationalities", "union of nationalities and oppressed nations", "appeal to the UN on the 'Catalan case' and the 'unique situation of Catalonia' that would legalize a referendum of self-determination", "Charter of the United Nations", "UN International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights" and "request for the right of self-determination for 'national minorities'"[1]. The success, supervened, thanks to the hidden agenda of a Pedro Sanchez who has needed the pro-independence votes to reach again the position of President of the Government of Spain. A stark democratic anomaly -the agreement with a fugitive from Justice, the Amnesty Law, a deep crack in judicial independence and equality before the Law and the breakdown of the division of powers- product of marketing. Power for impunity. A failure and a success that will probably conclude (article 92 CE) in the celebration of a referendum of pre-self-determination that would open the door to a referendum of self-determination. For that reason and for that reason, it should not be surprising that the independentism resorts to the constitutional legality that, when it is convenient, it denies and transgresses a la carte. It should be emphasized that independentism resorts to this article because it is Pedro Sánchez who invites it. Another concession of a PSOE -without ideology, convictions, scruples and morals- to the political blackmail of the Catalan independence movement. The invitation exists from the moment in which Pedro Sánchez, after affirming "that there will be no referendum of self-determination", adds that only "what fits in the Constitution will be done". This leads us to article 92 of the Constitution where it can be read that "Political decisions of special importance may be submitted to a consultative referendum of all citizens" (92.1 CE). Who is proposing the referendum? The answer is in article 92.2 CE: "The referendum shall be called by the King, by means of a proposal of the President of the Government, previously authorized by the Congress of Deputies". Therein lies the key which, subsequently, can open the way to a referendum of self-determination. It is true that the referendum which could be called and held by appealing to Article 92 of the Constitution is consultative and concerns and incorporates the whole Spanish territory and all citizens with the right to vote. But two things are also certain: one, of a political nature; the other, of a legal nature. Politically, first, the consultative referendum on the present or future of Catalonia -it is to be expected an ambiguous question that does not violate the constitutional legality, because this would entail the refusal to call the referendum- hides a double trap or lure: firstly, because it grants, mutatis mutandi, to the Autonomous Community of Catalonia -in the last instance the destiny of Catalonia is decided- the condition of subject with the right to decide its present or future sooner or later. Secondly, because a victory of the pro-independence movement in Catalonia -whatever the result in Spain as a whole- would have serious consequences of a political nature that would offer on a gold and diamond platter the opportunity to call and hold a referendum of self-determination in Catalonia. Hence the pro-independence demand for the transfer of powers to call and hold referendums in Catalonia by means of 150.2 CE ("The State may transfer or delegate to the Autonomous Communities, by means of organic law, powers corresponding to matters of State ownership which by their very nature are susceptible to transfer or delegation") and by the transfer of the powers of 149. 1.32 CE ("Authorization for the calling of popular consultations by means of referendum") and/or 2.1 LO/1980 ("The authorization for the calling of popular consultations by means of referendum in any of its modalities, is exclusive competence of the State")[2]. In the worst case scenario for the pro-independence movement, the consultative referendum would be replaced by a new or reformed Statute of Catalonia, also submitted to referendum, which would recover the articles suspended by the Constitutional Court -especially an own Justice, an own Treasury and an own and exclusive Catalan language- turning Catalonia into a sort of State in statu nascendi thanks to the new corpus iuris. Legally speaking, a consultative referendum, with a good result in Catalonia for the pro-independence movement, would lead to a constitutional reform which -here appears the deconstitutional process- could add a new modality of referendum that would contemplate -in the Canadian way- the clarity of the question, the percentage of participation and the number of votes in favor of accepting the proposal. To this we must add that a consultative referendum favorable to the intentions of the independence movement could implement the calling and holding of a popular consultation only in Catalonia as an instrument of pressure. A plausible hypothesis if we take into account that the Generalitat of Catalonia keeps in its folder a law of non-referendary consultations. A detail to take into account: there are jurists who interpret the "all citizens" of the consultative referendum (92.1 CE) in a different way than usual. They argue that the democratic principle of article 1 of the Constitution, with the collaboration of a Constitution which has no limits on its reform, would make it possible to hold a referendum -in principle, of a consultative nature- so that only the Catalans could pronounce themselves on their future. In any case, the way remains open that could lead to the overthrow of the Nation, the rule of law and the rule of law. Any way to avoid the threat of self-determination by appealing to the Constitution? Understanding/interpreting Article 2 EC - "The Constitution is based on the indissoluble unity of the Spanish Nation, common and indivisible homeland of all Spaniards"- as an intangibility clause. And something more: a reform of the Penal Code incorporating the criminal type of the illegal referendum. A very difficult thing to do in view of the correlation of forces and the IOUs of the President of the Government. To which must be added the colonization of the institutions that turn the party into the State. This is how autocracy begins. To paraphrase Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblat[3], democracies no longer die "at the hands of armed men", but thanks to democratically elected governments that gradually discredit and attack institutions and change the rules of the game: "the dismantling of democracy begins gradually", continues with "polarization [that] can tear democratic norms to pieces" and concludes with the "subversion of democracy". [1] En el artículo “Del caso especial de Cataluña al caso especial del socialismo español” –número 80, octubre/diciembre de 2023, de Cuadernos de Pensamiento Político– analizo los intentos fallidos del nacionalismo catalán con el objetivo de convocar un referéndum que conduzca a una Cataluña independiente. https://fundacionfaes.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/De-caso-especial-de-Cataluna-an-caso-especial-del-socialismo-espanol.pdf [2] La refutación detallada de la imposibilidad constitucional de la convocatoria de referéndums por parte de las Comunidades Autonómicas se encuentra en el trabajo “20 preguntas con respuesta sobre la secesión de Cataluña” (Fundación FAES. Madrid. 2014). https://fundacionfaes.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/2015062913291520_preguntas_con_respuesta_sobre_la_secesion_de_cataluna.pdf [3] Levitsky, Steven y Ziblatt, Daniel: Cómo mueren las democracias. Traducción de Gemma Deza Guil. Ariel. Barcelona. 2018.