Islamic State videos have often been associated with savage violence and beheadings. An in-depth scrutiny however reveals another striking feature: that female bodies are absent, blurred or mute. Examining a few Islamic State videos in depth, the article suggests that the invisibility of women in tandem with the ostentatious visibility of male bodies enable gendered and embodied spectators to indulge in homoerotic as well as heterosexual imaginaries. In contrast to studies on visual security and online radicalization which assert that images affect an audience, this article focuses on the interaction between video and audience and argues that spectators are not only rational and emotional but embodied and gendered as well. Islamic State videos do not only attract western foreign fighters through religious–ideological rhetoric or emotional impact but also through gendered forms of pleasure and desire that enable carnal imagination and identification. The article probes the analytical purchase of carnal aesthetics and spectatorship.

For decades ‘youth bulge’ theory has dominated understandings of youth in mainstream International Relations. Youth bulge theory has also become part of some public media analyses, mainstream political rhetoric, and even officially enshrined in the foreign policy of some states. Through the ‘youth bulge’ lens, youth—especially males—have been presented as current or future perpetrators of violence. However, this article argues that the youth bulge thesis postulated in mainstream IR is based on flawed theoretical assumptions. In particular, supporters of youth bulge theory fail to engage with existing research by feminist IR scholars and thus take on a biological essentialist approach. This has led to theoretical and practical misunderstandings of the roles youth play in relation to conflict, peace and security. These partial and biased understandings have also resulted in less effective policy-making. In critically reflecting on the ‘youth bulge’ thesis, this article argues that applying gender analysis is crucial to understanding the involvement of young people in general—and young men in particular—in conflict. Doing so will contribute to advancing more accurate analysis in scholarship and policy-making.

While China and Russia's general policies towards the Responsibility to Protect (R2P) are similar, the two reveal nuanced differences in addressing specific emergencies. Both express support for the first two pillars of R2P while resisting coercive intervention under its aegis, as they share anxieties of domestic political security and concerns about their international image. Nonetheless, addressing cases like the Syrian crisis, Russian statements are more assertive and even aggressive while Chinese ones are usually vague and reactive. This article highlights the two states’ different tones through computer-assisted text analyses. It argues that diplomatic styles reflect Russian and Chinese perceptions of their own place in the evolving international order. Experiences in past decades create divergent reference points and status prospects for them, which leads to their different strategies in signalling Great Power status. As Beijing is optimistic about its status-rising prospects, it exercises more self-restraint in order to avoid external containments and is reluctant to act as an independent ‘spoiler’. Meanwhile, Moscow interprets its Great Power status more from a frame of ‘loss’ and therefore is inclined to adopt a sterner approach to signal its status. Although their policies complement each other on many occasions, there is nothing akin to a Sino–Russian ‘bloc’.

Russia’s military strategy is increasingly blurring the boundaries between war and peace. As the nature of warfare changes, the Kremlin is adapting its strategies to pursue conflict, especially through non-military means - below the threshold of armed violence. 

Russian military tactics are often mistaken for strategy in the West. Oscar Jonson, author of The Russian Understanding of War, will talk through this debate and explore how the Russian leadership now understands military strategy in the context of modern warfare. Mathieu Boulègue will address the more operational aspects of contemporary warfare for Russia, notably grey zone operations. 

The widespread practice of illicit acquisition of a business or part of a business in the former Soviet states, known as ‘reiderstvo’ or asset-grabbing, is a major risk that disincentivises investment in the region.

It is distinct from the way corporate raiding occurs in the West and enabled by factors such as corruption and weak protection of property rights.

This roundtable will assess the practice of corporate raiding in Russia, Ukraine and Kazakhstan: its evolution over time, knock-on effects and potential solutions. The speakers will also address the implications for the UK legal system and possible policy responses.

In 2016, the then-German foreign minister, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, suggested a way around the impasse in east Ukraine.

He proposed that elections in the areas held by Russian-backed insurgents – the ‘Donetsk People’s Republic’ (DNR) and the ‘Luhansk People’s Republic’ (LNR) –   could be held under Ukrainian legislation, with Kyiv adopting a temporary law on ‘special status’, the main disagreement between Russia and Ukraine in the Minsk Agreements. This law would become permanent once the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) had declared that elections correspond with OSCE standards.

The reaction in Ukraine was strongly negative. The so-called Steinmeier Formula contradicted Kyiv’s position that elections in the occupied Donbas should only go ahead in a secure environment – requiring the prior withdrawal of Russian forces and the return of the eastern border to Ukraine’s control. It also did not address the differing views of ‘special status’; Russia demands a much greater devolution of constitutional powers to the DNR and LNR regimes than Ukraine will grant.

But on 1 October, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the new Ukrainian president, announced that he was signing up to the Steinmeier Formula. He also announced a conditional withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from two frontline areas in the east.

Quick reversal

During the 2019 presidential election campaign, Zelenskyy repeatedly promised that, if elected, he would re-energize efforts to end the war. This appealed to many Ukrainians, who understandably want the conflict over, although Zelenskyy’s eventual electoral victory was largely won on domestic issues.

But his initiative quickly ran into two problems.

First, following a major prisoner swap in September, Russian President Vladimir Putin appeared to judge that Zelenskyy was in a hurry to deliver his election promises and was acting without consulting France and Germany. Russia had earlier demanded that Ukraine formally agree to elections in the Donbas as the precondition for a summit of the ‘Normandy’ powers (the diplomatic format comprising leaders of Ukraine, Russia, Germany and France, which has not met since 2016).

Moreover, the US, which is not part of the ‘Normandy’ group, has seemed disengaged because of domestic controversies. Concluding that Zelenskyy was vulnerable, the Kremlin welcomed his announcement about the Steinmeier Formula but declined to assent to a summit, hoping to extract further concessions.

Second, Zelenskyy’s action triggered protests in Kyiv and other Ukrainian cities. Critics feared that he intended to make unilateral concessions over ‘special status’. Though he tried to assure Ukrainians that ‘there won't be any elections there if the [Russian] troops are still there’, concerns were fuelled by what many saw as his lack of openness about what the Steinmeier Formula really meant. Ukrainian public opinion wants an end to the war, but apparently not at any price.

Zelenskyy duly rowed back. During a marathon 14-hour press conference on 10 October, he emphasized that he would not surrender Ukraine’s vital interests. He also acknowledged that he had been insufficiently open with the Ukrainian public. For the time being at least, he seems to have been given pause.

A situation resistant to compromise

Instead, Zelenskyy may now attempt to ‘freeze’ the conflict by ending active operations. This is not Ukraine’s favoured outcome but could be the most realistic one in current conditions.  

Russia still calculates that time is on its side. It believes that Western support for Ukraine is lukewarm and that Kyiv will eventually have to give it what it wants. Russia clearly felt no pressure to respond positively to Zelenskyy’s overture, which it probably read as a weakness to be exploited.    

For these reasons, Zelenskyy now appears less optimistic that rapid progress to end the war is possible. A new summit of the ‘Normandy’ powers may happen but looks unlikely in the near future. This may act as an incentive for further bilateral negotiations between Ukraine and Russia, such as those which delivered the prisoner swap. However, a diplomatic process managed by Zelenskyy and Putin alone risks reducing Ukraine’s leverage. 

Finally, the main obstacles to implementation of the Minsk Agreements – radically different views of elections in, and ‘special status’ for, the DNR and LNR – remain. The Kremlin’s versions of both would gravely limit Ukraine’s sovereignty; Kyiv’s would facilitate the re-establishment of its control over the east. It is hard to see how this gap can be bridged.

Tellingly, the Steinmeier Formula offers no answer to this conundrum. Some conflicts, it seems, are resistant to diplomatic compromises that aim to satisfy everyone equally.

At face value, recent years have seen a deepening in Sino-Russian cooperation, from energy agreements, to the recent Huawei-MTS deal developing a 5G network in Russia. Ever larger-in-scale joint military exercises add to fears by some that the 'axis of convenience' is now a more genuine – and threatening – partnership.

This workshop will offer a sober assessment of the latest developments in Sino-Russian relations, shedding light on the underpinnings and practical realities of the relationship as well as on the long-term challenges of upholding cooperation.

The panel will discuss the different and potentially diverging interpretations of contemporary Sino-Russian relations as well as the implications for the rules-based international order.

This event is co-organized by the Chatham House Russia and Eurasia Programme and the University of Exeter and is supported by the British International Studies Association.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

In the three years since Shavkat Mirziyoyev was elected president of Uzbekistan, he has embarked on a wide-ranging reform process including currency liberalization, eliminating forced labour and abolishing exit visas. This has encouraged foreign investors and the population, but a rare protest last week over natural gas and electricity shortages shows that the Uzbek population’s faith in change under the new leadership could be wearing thin, while foreign direct investment that adds real value to the economy is in short supply.

When Mirziyoyev came to power, Uzbekistan was on the verge of bankruptcy. A former prime minister of 13 years, and a pragmatic economist, the new president set on a rapid course to open Uzbekistan up to its neighbours and remove barriers to trade and foreign investment. The alacrity and ambition of the reform process and the monetary and economic liberalization has at times been overwhelming for lawyers and businesses. 

However, allowing the free movement of capital, people and goods are natural moves to boost an economy after 20 years of stasis. The country is now immersed in the more challenging and substantive phase of development, including privatization, the breakup of monopolies and capital markets reform. 

Despite a marked increase in foreign direct investment, the country is not receiving the investment it needs. Much of it comes from Russia or China through bilateral arrangements, with debt from China washing through state-owned banks and state-owned enterprises. Uzbekistan’s debt to China has increased three times since the end of 2016.

Meanwhile, European and US companies still appear unsure about the business environment and the staying power of reforms. A lack of consistent policy, alongside hastily drafted decrees and legislation that often require presidential decrees to clarify their meaning as well, as opaque carve outs, are further deterring Western investors. A workforce that is still in transition from a Soviet to a free market approach exacerbates the situation.

Opposition within the government to implementation of some of the reforms, as well as competing government interests, have led to backtracking on some reforms (such as free and unrestricted currency convertibility) and creeping protectionism in some sectors. Some reforms simply get lost in the long chain from presidential decree to implementation. After 2018, import tariffs were abolished but recently, a list of protected domestically produced products has been drawn up raising concerns that vested interests are replacing state monopolies with private ones.

Despite progress on the economic front, political and social reform has lagged. Uzbekistan is still largely run by senior cadres from the previous administration of Islam Karimov. While the government has attracted younger reformers, often returning from abroad, it has also been rehabilitating key figures from the Karimov years that were implicated in corruption scandals. Progressive senior officials, such as the former general prosecutor Otabek Murodov, have been removed with little explanation as to why; trials take place behind closed doors.

The new leadership has transformed the media environment, but the country still lacks objective analytical reporting. Direct criticism of the president or the ruling family remains taboo. Economic and monetary liberalization has come at a cost to the population in the form of double-digit inflation, while utility prices are moving to the level of the free market. Popular discontent is growing at the grass roots level and some hark back to the stability of the former government, in spite of its reputation for appalling human rights treatment.

Small and innovative steps have been taken to improve the rule of law, but more can be done, including introducing transparency over judicial processes and ensuring regional authorities have less impunity before the law. An initiative to address the issue of conflict of interest – whereby mayors, senators and other senior civil servants have been able to benefit commercially from their positions during an era of government economic stimulus – would signal a commitment to fundamental reform.

With great promises of political and economic reform, the government has set a high bar for itself. A continuing paternalistic form of governance, with its restricted civil society freedoms, human rights, stifling bureaucracy and corruption, against continuing lack of opportunities, will clash with the expectations of a growing young population.

Mirziyoyev is trying to make the parliamentary elections on 22 December, the first during his presidency, more dynamic. Yet no opposition parties have been able to emerge to serve as a check on the executive branch. A product of the system he ostensibly wishes to reform, Mirziyoyev will need to prioritize the strengthening of independent institutions to deliver results to his expectant people.

Two December meetings between Presidents Vladimir Putin and Alexander Lukashenka failed to deliver Moscow’s hopes of securing Minsk’s acceptance of closer alignment between Russia and Belarus.

Over the past year, relations between Belarus and Russia have been under unprecedented strain as Moscow has tried to encourage Minsk to sign up to a different format of relations designed to keep Belarus firmly in a Russian orbit. Details of the negotiations have remained secret, yet issues on the table appear to include unification of tax and customs systems, a common energy regulator and joint governing bodies.

The Kremlin believes that Belarus needs to deliver more in return for Russia’s continued economic support, worth around $10 billion per year. In December 2018, it issued an ultimatum: Belarus would only continue to receive a discounted price for oil and gas and enjoy preferential access to the Russian market if it agreed to reanimate the largely dormant 1999 Union Treaty that called for the unification of Belarus with Russia.

During 2019, frantic work took place on both sides to prepare a detailed framework for achieving deeper integration between the two countries. This did not succeed in overcoming a set of long-standing issues related to economic relations.

To step up pressure, the Russian prime minister, Dmitri Medvedev, signalled in early December that Russia would withhold economic privileges for Belarus pending full implementation of 30 integration road maps that he claimed had already been agreed. To the alarm of Minsk, he also suggested that discussion of a 31st roadmap would follow to include the creation of a single currency and supranational institutions. The Belarusian authorities view this level of integration as a threat to national sovereignty.

On the surface, Belarus’ negotiating position is weak. By resisting market reforms that could have diversified imports and exports, Lukashenka has instead kept the economy tied to Russia; 40% of Belarusian exports go to Russia. In addition, Russia has decreased its reliance on imports from Belarus as part of a broad policy of import substitution.

Raising the gas price will deprive Belarusian companies of their comparative advantage.  Approximately 90% of Belarus’s electricity and heat is generated by natural gas imported from Russia at below market prices. Petroleum products refined from Russian crude oil that is supplied duty-free to Belarus account for the largest source of the country’s export earnings.

Minsk fears that the current oil taxation reform in Russia could cause Belarus losses of up to $9 billion by 2024 as a result of higher prices for Russian oil and the loss of export duties. Economic growth slowed from 3% in 2018 to just over 1% in 2019 and could fall further if Russia does not grant concessions on the oil price.

The country’s high level of public debt denominated in foreign currency makes the need to find cash more urgent and exacerbates the Russian pressure. Russia is Belarus’ biggest creditor, accounting for 38% of state debt.

However, Lukashenka is a master of negotiation with the Kremlin, with a talent for turning weakness into strength.

First, by eliminating political competition in Belarus, he has given Putin no option but to deal with him personally. Second, he understands that Moscow needs to present integration between the two countries as voluntary and does not want to use economic sanctions or other tools of persuasion that could destabilize Belarus. Third, he knows that there is no consensus in Moscow on creating a single currency. Unification of the tax systems would also be problematic because of their different structures. If these measures were implemented, Moscow could end up paying much larger subsidies to keep Belarus stable.

Minsk is therefore likely to pursue three options: dragging out the negotiations with Moscow, while continuing to declare its commitment to closer union with Russia; seeking alternative sources of energy and credits; and reforming the economy to lower its dependency on Russia.

Although Lukashenka is mindful of potential risks and threats to his power from economic liberalization, he is open to changes in some areas, such as further developing the successful IT sector, privatising non-strategic state-owned enterprises and increasing trade with EU countries.

These reforms will most likely continue, although this year’s presidential election may distract attention, as Lukashenka seeks a sixth term in the knowledge that his popularity is falling. He may also need to divert some economic resources to maintain the support of his core electorate.

For the moment, Moscow does not appear to be in a hurry, believing that Lukashenka and Belarus are going nowhere and that concessions by Minsk are only a matter of time.

Vladimir Putin’s proposed constitutional reforms will transform Russia’s political regime and allow him to prolong his grip on power when his fourth presidential term expires in 2024.

The proposals suggest that he will not seek another term as president after 2024, but is preparing the ground for retaining power after he leaves the presidency. The changes will introduce checks and balances on his close associates and ensure the country’s judiciary, legislative and executive bodies remain passive.

The State Duma, the lower house of parliament, is unlikely to rock the boat with legislative elections approaching in 2021. Former prime minister Dmitry Medvedev’s cabinet has been replaced by an acting government headed by a new prime minister, Mikhail Mishustin. The highest courts will be weakened further by Putin’s proposal to give the president the power to dismiss judges.

Most of the proposed changes are vague. Notable specific proposals include the requirement that any presidential candidate must be resident in Russia for a minimum of 25 years prior to the elections, and that anyone who has held a residency permit abroad at any point in their life would not be eligible to run. This is clearly aimed at eliminating political opposition based abroad.

While Putin mentioned a popular vote on the constitutional changes (which is not required by law), it is important to note that he didn’t use the term ‘referendum’, which would have mandated that the results be acted upon. Regardless, it is clear that, with no easy foreign policy and military wins in the offing, Putin will seek to boost his legitimacy through a popular vote. The current federal electoral cycle starts next year and will end in 2024 with the presidential election.

The key question now is how Putin will maintain control over the siloviki, Russia’s political elite, though he has made this task easier for himself by replacing some of the strongest players with mid-level officers and weakening the authority of those who remain.

The proposals to consult with the Federation Council, the upper house of parliament, when appointing siloviki and to keep the president in charge of law enforcement are a smokescreen. Putin will consolidate his power through his leadership at the Security Council and by chairing the State Council. For this reason, Putin is seeking to enshrine the State Council, which was reshaped in 2018 to include senior government ministers, in the constitution. 

It is too early to be certain of the major beneficiaries of these sweeping reforms, though Sergey Sobyanin, the current mayor of Moscow, is likely to become Putin’s deputy at the State Council. The head of the audit chamber, Alexei Kudrin, and Deputy Chief of Staff Sergei Kiriyenko are also likely to benefit from the changes, after helping to develop Putin’s political and economic strategies prior to the 2018 presidential election.

Notably, the audit chamber, headed by Kudrin, will now have the power to check Rostekh, Rosneftegaz and Gazprom, organizations associated with major siloviki figures Sergey Chemezov and Igor Sechin. The role offered to Medvedev – deputy chair of the Security Council – will be newly created: the scope is unclear but it is unlikely that Putin will relinquish any of his influence over the siloviki.

Vladimir Putin’s goal of restoring Russia’s status as a great power has led to an aggressive foreign policy and confrontation with its immediate neighbours as well as Western countries.

Sergei Medvedev, author of The Return of the Russian Leviathan, will discuss the forces shaping Russian politics and society today as well as how a nostalgia for empire – still widespread in contemporary Russia - has shaped Moscow’s foreign policy.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only.

Violations against cultural property – such as archaeological treasures, artworks, museums or historical sites – can be no less detrimental to the survival of a nation than the physical persecution of its people. These assaults on heritage ensure the hegemony of some nations and distort the imprint of other nations in world history, sometimes to the point of eradication.

As contemporary armed conflicts in Syria, Ukraine and Yemen demonstrate, cultural property violations are not only a matter of the colonial past; they continue to be perpetrated, often in new, intricate ways.

Understandably, from a moral perspective, it is more often the suffering of persons, rather than any kind of ‘cultural’ destruction, that receives the most attention from humanitarian aid providers, the media or the courts. Indeed, the extent of the damage caused by an assault on cultural property is not always immediately evident, but the result can be a threat to the survival of a people. This is strikingly exemplified by what is currently happening in Crimea.

Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula has been occupied by Russia since February 2014, meaning that, under international law, the two states have been involved in an international armed conflict for the last six years.

While much attention has been paid to the alleged war crimes perpetrated by the occupying power, reports by international organizations and the International Criminal Court (ICC) have been less vocal on the issue of cultural property in Crimea. Where they do raise it, they tend to confine their findings to the issue of misappropriation.

However, as part of its larger policy of the annexation and Russification of the peninsula and its history, Russia has gone far beyond misappropriation.

Crimean artefacts have been transferred to Russia – without security justification or Ukrainian authorization as required by the international law of occupation – to be showcased at exhibitions celebrating Russia’s own cultural heritage. In 2016, the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow staged its record-breaking Aivazovsky exhibition, which included 38 artworks from the Aivazovsky Museum in the Crimean town of Feodosia.

Other ‘cultural’ violations in the region include numerous unsanctioned archaeological excavations, whose findings are often unlawfully exported to Russia or end up on the black market.

There is also the example of Russia’s plan to establish a museum of Christianity in Ukraine’s UNESCO World Heritage site, the Ancient City of Tauric Chersonese. This is an indication of Russia’s policy of asserting itself as a bastion of Orthodox Christianity and culture in the Slavic world, with Crimea as one of the centres.

The harmful effects of Russia’s destructive cultural property policy can be seen in the situation of the Crimean Tatars, Ukraine’s indigenous Muslim people. Already depleted by a Stalin-ordered deportation in 1944 and previously repressed by the Russian Empire, the Crimean Tatars are now facing the destruction of much of the remainder of their heritage.

For example, Muslim burial grounds have been demolished to build the Tavrida Highway, which leads to the newly built Kerch Bridge connecting the peninsula to Russia.

The destructive reconstruction of the 16th-century Bakhchysarai Palace – the only remaining complete architectural ensemble of the indigenous people, included in the UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List – is another example of how the very identity of the Crimean Tatars is being threatened. This reconstruction is being conducted by a team with no experience of cultural sites, in a manner that erodes its authenticity and historical value – which is precisely as Russia intends.

There is a solid body of international and domestic law covering Russia’s treatment of Crimea’s cultural property.

Under the 1954 Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict – ratified by both Ukraine and Russia – the occupying power must facilitate the safeguarding efforts of the national authorities in occupied territories. States parties must prevent any vandalism or misappropriation of cultural property, and, according to the first protocol of the convention, the occupying power is required to prevent any export of artefacts from the occupied territory.

The 1907 Hague Regulations and the 1949 Fourth Geneva Convention confirm that the authentic domestic legislation continues to apply in occupied territories. This leaves Russia with no excuse for non-compliance with Ukraine’s cultural property laws and imposing its own rules unless absolutely necessary.

Besides, both Ukrainian and Russian criminal codes penalise pillage in occupied territory, as well as unsanctioned archaeological excavations. As an occupying power, Russia must not just abstain from such wrongdoings in Crimea, but also duly investigate and prosecute the alleged misconduct.

The clarity of the international legal situation demonstrates that no exhibitions in continental Russia and no archaeological excavations which are not sanctioned by Ukraine can be justified. Likewise, any renovation or use of cultural sites, especially those on permanent or tentative UNESCO lists, must only be conducted pursuant to consultancy with and approval of the Ukrainian authorities.

But the resonance of the Crimean case goes beyond law and touches on issues of the very survival of a people. The Soviet deportation of the Crimean Tatars in 1944 did not only result in the deaths of individuals. Their footprints in Crimea have been gradually erased by baseless treason charges, the long exile of the indigenous community from their native lands and ongoing persecution.

First the Soviet Union and now Russia have targeted the Crimean Tatars’ cultural heritage to undermine their significance in the general historical narrative, making attempts to preserve or celebrate this culture seem futile. Russia is thus imposing its own historical and political hegemony at the expense of the Crimean Tatar and Ukrainian layers of Crimean history.

As exemplified by occupied Crimea, the manipulation and exploitation of cultural heritage can serve an occupying power’s wider policies of appropriating history and asserting its own dominance. Domestic cultural property proceedings are challenging due to the lack of access to the occupied territory, but they should still be pursued.

More effort is needed in the following areas: case prioritization; informing the documenters of alleged violations about the spectrum of cultural property crimes; developing domestic investigative and prosecutorial capacity, including by involving foreign expert consultancy; more proactively seeking bilateral and multilateral cooperation in art crime cases; liaising with auction houses (to track down objects originating from war-affected areas) and museums (to prevent the exhibition of the artefacts from occupied territories).

When possible, cultural property crimes should also be reported to the ICC.

Additionally, more international – public, policy, media and jurisprudential – attention to such violations is needed. Societies, courts and policymakers should have a clearer awareness that assaults against cultural heritage constitute a creeping encroachment on a people’s identity, endangering its very survival.

Six years after the annexation of Crimea and the start of the armed conflict in Donbas, the process of coalescing the Ukrainian society around a common civic identity remains complex. Ukraine comprises many ethno-linguistic identities, and various internal and external actors have been able to exploit old and new grievances to increase tensions at the regional and local level.

The panellists will discuss the conflict dynamics along parts of Ukraine’s international border and the line of contact with Crimea. The speakers will review the internal political, social and economic trends that cause friction and suggest ways to strengthen cohesion.

The event will build upon key findings from International Alert’s analysis of the south of Odesa, Kherson and Zakarpattia oblasts and on the reintegration of veterans in Ukraine.

This event is organized in partnership with International Alert, supported by UK aid from the UK government as part of the Peace Research Partnership programme.

 

One of the key messages at the heart of Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s presidential campaign in 2019 was a very simple one: peace in Donbas, the war-torn region of Ukraine where Russian-supported separatists continue to fight a war against the Kyiv government. Zelenskyy’s message was based on the assumption that if a ceasefire could be respected, and all Ukrainian prisoners-of-war could return home, then peace would have been achieved.

Nine months after Zelenskyy’s inauguration and two months after his first Normandy Four summit (which brings together Germany and France with Ukraine and Russia to discuss Donbas), it appears more likely that this approach will lead Ukraine into a Russian trap.

Zelenskyy’s very immediate objectives and the tactics used to achieve them contrast with those of the previous president, Petro Poroshenko. Zelenskyy has pointedly avoided naming Russia as an aggressor and has focused on humanitarian issues and seeking compromise wherever possible, including in legal cases that Russia has already lost in international courts.

In contrast, President Poroshenko prioritised the security agenda as a precondition for any political settlement, encapsulated in the notion of ‘no elections without security guarantees’. This focused on regaining control of the border and the demilitarization of the separatist-controlled territories. At the same time, Poroshenko sought remedial action for Russian aggression through international courts. 

Kyiv is testing the Kremlin’s real intentions with a series of small steps without clearly communicating its overarching objectives. This has triggered considerable social disquiet, manifested by demonstrations in Kyiv and other cities as part of the ’No capitulation’ campaign. This wave of criticism forced Zelenskyy’s team to name certain red lines, which he promised he would not cross (‘we don’t trade territories and people’) in pursuit of conflict resolution.

Other key issues, such as Ukraine’s relations with the EU, future NATO membership, language issues and any possible ‘special status’ for Donbas, have been left undefined.

Two months since the Normandy summit, the number of casualties has not declined. It is increasingly difficult for Zelenskyy to argue that disengagement by Ukraine’s army from the contact line in three locations, which was a precondition for the December Normandy Four meeting, is a way to achieve peace.

The separatists continue to significantly impede the OSCE’s special monitoring mission, a full ceasefire is not being observed and there are numerous reports of heavy weapons movements closer to the contact line in the areas outside Kyiv’s control. These issues are particularly problematic as control over the border with Russia is essential for the demilitarization of the ‘people’s republics’, which is a prerequisite for the safe reintegration of these areas.

Conducting local elections in autumn 2020 is a top priority for the new team, but it is clear that even if Ukraine regains control of its border, the presence of Russian military personnel and weaponry in Donbas threatens the prospect of free and fair elections (which themselves raise the further issue of how to ensure the integrity of the votes).

Russia’s strategy

So despite Zelenskyy’s pacifist rhetoric, hopes and ambitions, his plans are far from being realized or, in fact, realizable. This is because these plans are at odds with Russia’s strategic objective, which is for Donbas to be conferred a status whereby it is de jure within Ukraine but de facto under Russian control and influence.

Zelenskyy’s media-friendly appearance in Paris in December 2019 could not mask the fact that the Normandy Four talks exposed the weakness of Ukraine’s position and the growing influence of Russia’s approach, particularly in the context of a disengaged UK and US, a Germany increasingly tired of this conflict, and a French president who is looking to accommodate Russian preferences.

Indeed, Vladimir Putin was able to exploit the opportunity to apply his favoured formula for conducting foreign policy: highly personalized informal interactions, which seek specific political concessions from a cornered partner and which are short on transparent, stable and law-based solutions. The Paris meeting of the Normandy Four in December 2019 clearly demonstrated that simply sitting down and talking to Putin is not a magic pill to end the conflict, an idea frequently expressed by Zelenskyy.

In 2020, the strongest clue as to what Putin’s plans for Ukraine might be is the appointment of Dmitry Kozak as the main curator of the ‘Ukraine file’ (meaning Donbas and Crimea), replacing Vladislav Surkov, his long-time competitor for the role. The next Normandy meeting is expected in April 2020, and Kyiv should be aware of the possible pitfalls.

While Kozak is perceived by some as a more pragmatic and less aggressive counterpart, his past tells a different story. In fact, he was the architect of the long-term strategy for Moldova, which centred on the federalization of Moldova and the reincorporation of the separatist region of Transnistria into Moldova.

The presence of Russian military forces stationed on the ground there amounts to ‘armed suasion’ – using a military presence to demand political concessions from Moldova. The so-called ‘Kozak memorandum’ – which de facto re-writes the constitution of Moldova – contains a detailed explanation of that strategy.

Kozak could try to deliver a similar situation for Ukraine. Less emphasis is being put on specific terms (federalization vs. special status) but the overarching aims are unchanged since 2014, in the same way they have been in Moldova since 2003. Kozak is a man who can play the long game, while the team of the Ukrainian president chases quick successes without calculating long-term risks. This could be a dangerous combination.

The ‘human-centric approach’ to resolving the conflict followed by President Zelenskyy is a double-edged sword. The focuses on humanitarian issues and readiness for big compromises are clear positive signals to Western partners and supporters of Zelenskyy’s Servant of the People party. But prioritizing humanitarian issues over national security considerations could easily lead Ukraine into a Russian trap, which does not so much rely on a massive military assault but envisages creeping control over Ukraine’s future as its ultimate goal.

Earlier this month, US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo became the highest-ranking US official to visit Belarus since Bill Clinton in 1994. After meetings with Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenka – who Condoleezza Rice once memorably described as ‘Europe’s last dictator’ – Pompeo said he was ‘optimistic about our strengthened relationship’. 

The EU and its member states have also changed their tune, at least a little. Previously, prosecutions of democratic activists led to sanctions against the Lukashenka regime. But his less-than-liberal manner of governance did not prevent him from visiting Austria last November or from receiving invitations to Brussels. 

Eight years ago, most EU contacts with Belarusian officials were frozen. Now, Western diplomats regularly meet with Belarusian officials again. This year, a US ambassador to Belarus will be appointed after a 12-year break.

The West is also more willing to support Belarus financially. The European Bank for Reconstruction and Development invested a record-breaking $433 million in the country in 2019. The European Investment Bank only began working with the country in 2017 but already has a portfolio of $600 million.

Certain policymakers in the EU and US now, at least publicly, appear to regard Lukashenka as one of the sources of regional security and a defender of Belarusian sovereignty against Russia.

There is some truth in this. He has taken a neutral position in Russia’s conflict with Ukraine, and he has consistently resisted pressure from the Kremlin to establish a military base in Belarus.

Now, amid Moscow’s demands for deeper integration in exchange for the continuation of Russian energy subsidies, Lukashenka has shown reluctance to sell his autonomy. In a token attempt to portray sovereignty Belarus even started buying oil from Norway, although this makes no economic sense.

But Lukashenka’s long-term record shows he has done little to ensure the country’s sovereignty. Lukashenka has resisted reforms that would have strengthened the economy (because they would have weakened his own position). The political system is also dependent on Russia because Lukashenka has been unwilling to build better relations with the West. Belarusians are still strongly influenced by Russian culture and media because the authorities marginalize their own national identity.

Since the conflict in Ukraine in 2014, Lukashenka’s primary goal has not been to strengthen the sovereignty of Belarus, but to preserve his absolute control over the country.

For example, when in 2018 Russia started pressing Belarus to deepen its integration in order to retain economic support, Minsk did not reject this approach outright; instead, it discussed no less than 31 ‘road maps’ for deepening integration for more than a year, hoping to receive more benefits. For Lukashenka, greater dependency on Russia is a matter of price and conditions, not principle. 

None of this is to say Belarus has illusions about Russia. It is just that Lukashenka does not take long-term steps to protect the country’s sovereignty or to strengthen relations with the West.

Belarus needs to start economic reform with the support of the International Monetary Fund, but this cannot happen without Lukashenka’s genuine commitment to transform the economy. Absence of cross-sectoral reform has led to the deterioration of the education system as well as unprecedented emigration. Few Belarusian experts are optimistic about their country’s future. Lukashenka knows all this, but does not change his system, fearing it would damage the stability of his regime.  

The West should therefore adopt a broader policy. Lukashenka is unlikely to still be president in 10–15 years, so policymakers should develop relations with the broader ruling elite, which will remain after he leaves, and try to be present in Belarus as much as possible helping it to improve public governance and develop private businesses.

The West should also support the country’s civil society and independent media, for whom Belarusian independence is a matter of principle rather than something to be bargained away.

Lukashenka may be a strong leader, but the state he has built is weak.

Japan and Russia are often referred to as 'distant neighbours'. 

In the early days of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's second term in 2012, Japan sought to open a new era of bilateral relations with Russia. However, recent negotiations on the Kuril Islands/Northern Territories territorial dispute have stalled. Despite Abe’s extensive efforts to resolve the dispute, no concrete agreement has been reached so far. 

The speaker will provide an overview of the current state of Japan-Russia relations, including the prospect of resolving the territorial dispute during Prime Minister Abe's remaining days in office.

 

Still grappling with the war in the east and the occupation of Crimea, Ukraine’s new leadership has announced its intention to develop its transitional justice infrastructure to respond to the human rights violations arising from Russia’s aggression. 

Numerous reports (not least ones by the UN Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine) list persecutions, illegal detentions, enforced disappearances, torture and killings among the crimes perpetrated in Crimea and parts of occupied Donbas. 

As Ukraine has only just started developing its transitional justice roadmap, this event will seek to discuss viable initial approaches, such as a ‘truth-telling commission’ or amnesties. 

The panellists will also discuss the role for civil society and those directly affected by hostilities in the transitional justice process.  

PLEASE NOTE THIS EVENT IS POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

With Putin’s current term as head of state due to run out in 2024, the question everybody has been asking is what he will do to remain in power. The Russian president’s recent speech, made in person in the State Duma during the second reading of his own constitutional reform bill, has been interpreted by many as a clear answer. Summaries such as “Putin forever” and “perpetual Putin” abound. But the reality is not so clear.

Putin has not committed to standing for re-election in 2024, never mind staying in power until 2036, when two additional six-year terms from 2024 would run out. What he has done is provide the constitutional grounds to retain power as president. It creates a highly credible option without committing him to it.

And the uncertainty matters. Because as long as members of the elite are unsure whether Putin will take up the option to remain president, they are kept in check.

Broader constitutional reform

With the flurry of interest around Putin’s announcement, we should not lose sight of his moves to further strengthen the presidency. As part of the broader constitutional reform package, Russia’s existing “super-presidency” will gain additional powers, such as the authority to fire top-tier judges and to block legislation when the legislature has overridden a presidential veto (in other words, a “super-veto”).

The proposals also put the autonomy of local self-government at risk, with Moscow and regional executives gaining the constitutional power to hire and fire officials who are not even technically part of the state. And the president now has a formalised role as “general leader” of the government. Putin is creating the “Great Presidency”.

However, the majority of constitutional changes do not relate to the presidency – they have different purposes. Firstly, to revitalise support for the regime which took a hit following unpopular pension reforms in 2018. Secondly, to distract or appease those worried by Putin remaining in a strengthened presidency. And perhaps most significantly, to boost turnout in the nationwide vote on reforms.

This desire to re-energise popular support becomes apparent as the changes – some of which will have to be inserted rather awkwardly into the constitution’s structure – focus on three elements aimed squarely at improving the regime’s appeal: increased material support from the state for citizens, including indexing state pensions; an emphasis on “traditional values”, including a declaration that marriage can only be a union between a man and a woman; and increased Russian sovereignty, including a “nationalisation” of the elite, with a constitutional ban on top-level officials having bank accounts abroad. 

Constitutional reform is, moreover, the most visible part of a broader political transformation already underway, including a major propaganda drive. Putin has promised a significant increase in resources for its “maternity capital” programme, putting more money in the pockets of young Russian families.

And he has instructed Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin’s government to focus on delivering his “national projects” – goals aimed at improving Russians’ lives across a range of areas, from infrastructure to education and healthcare.

Taking advantage of several imminent historical milestones is also on the cards. It has been reported Putin will sign the constitutional reform bill on March 18 – the anniversary of Russia’s annexation of Crimea. And May 9 is the 75th anniversary of the end of the Great Patriotic War (the Russian term for the Second World War), with foreign dignitaries invited to attend events in Moscow.

Putin has also been filling the airwaves with a high-production-values series called “20 Questions for Vladimir Putin”, as well as holding public meetings with citizens in provinces such as Cherepovets and Ivanovo. There is a clear aim to demonstrate the president is not only still in control, but also concerned with the well-being of everyday Russians.

With parliamentary elections scheduled for September 2021 the Kremlin knows that, to maintain its control of a super-majority of seats in the State Duma, its ratings-raising drive has to work – even if it does always have the option of using manifestly authoritarian methods for realising desired election results. A proposal to call early State Duma elections was made during the second reading of Putin’s reform bill, but was quickly withdrawn after Putin spoke out against the idea.

Russia’s complex architecture of “power”

Throughout this transformation, maintaining control of the elite – particularly of the siloviki – is key for Putin. A reshuffling and removal of senior officials in the Procuracy has seen Yury Chaika replaced as general prosecutor by Ivan Krasnov, previously a deputy chair of the Investigative Committee, which is widely seen as a rival structure in Russia’s complex architecture of “power” bodies.

When considered alongside the constitutional changes giving the president broader powers in appointing regional prosecutors, this is textbook “divide and rule”. Power balancing is also on display with the Security Council, as the job description for Dmitry Medvedev’s new role as its deputy chair could provide fertile ground for clashes with the body’s secretary, Nikolai Patrushev.

Pitting rival patronal networks against each other means Putin can keep rivals in check within the broader structure of the “Great Presidency”, while staying firmly in control himself.

The prospect of Putin remaining president is unlikely to be popular. According to data from independent Russian polling agency the Levada Centre, only 27 per cent of Russians want Putin to stay in the post after 2024. This figure could, of course, change in either direction as the prospect becomes more real for Russians. But if Putin’s announcement galvanises mass opposition, the authorities may well use responses to the COVID-19 outbreak to keep protesters at bay – something already on display in Moscow.

What this all means for Russia is that, despite the drama, considerable uncertainty remains following Putin’s announcement. What we can say for certain, however, is that it dashes hopes of serious political change any time soon.

Persistent internet rumours claiming the coronavirus outbreak originated from a secret American pharmaceutical company with the aim of destroying China from within were quickly discredited. Pop culture fans recognised the supposed activities of the Umbrella Corporation as being from the famous Japanese video games series Resident Evil.

However, although fake news, it can likely be attributed to Russian trolls conducting this and other similar activities online, especially when considered within the wider context of how the Russian regime is using this worldwide crisis to further destabilize the West and test its resolve.

Russian trolls never sleep

Russia’s COVID-19 related actions first and foremost take the form of a vast information warfare campaign, with media outlets simultaneously downplaying the threat of the pandemic - ‘it is less dangerous than seasonal flu’ - while stoking fear about what is happening elsewhere in Europe.

For the domestic audience in Russia, some media are reporting the pandemic marks the collapse of the Western world and liberalism altogether, calling it a form of collective punishment. Other point out how fast liberal democracies have curbed individual and entrepreneurial freedoms in order to slow down the viral outbreak, and seek to diminish the credibility of the Western response to the crisis.

Exploiting the coronavirus crisis in this way is a new low in Russia’s wider political warfare campaign to undermine global governance overall, as these activities are detrimental to people's very safety. For example, in Ukraine, it is thought a Russian-engineered disinformation operation may have caused the outburst of violence in the city of Novi Sanzhary following the arrival of evacuees from China.

In the military realm, fake news has been targeting the US-led multinational exercise DEFENDER-Europe 2020. The Russian leadership criticized the exercise as an offensive ‘anti-Russian scenario’ but then used accompanying propaganda that it could actively facilitate the spread of COVID-19 across Europe because of the arrival and movement of large numbers of troops.

The large-scale drills were planned to involve 18 participating nations and should have taken place across ten European countries from April to May 2020. But the exercise has now been scaled down – as has the Russian disinformation targeting it.

And while the world is pre-occupied with managing COVID-19, Moscow is able to grow bolder in its provocations. Recent air incursions were reported into Irish controlled airspace as well as over the North Sea. Although this practice is - unfortunately - routine as part of Russian constant military sabre-rattling, it does increase the risk of tactical errors and miscalculation.

Self-isolation, Kremlin style

Meanwhile, just when a global response is needed to fight the pandemic, Moscow’s response has been, at best, self-serving. On March 22, Russian military reportedly started sending medical equipment and supplies to Italy. While the nature and the scope of this assistance can be doubted, it still represents a charm offensive for Russia to be brought back in from the cold in Europe - since successive Italian leaderships have been accommodating to the Kremlin. And sending virologists to Italy might also be a useful learning curve for Russia’s regime.

But within Russia itself, Vladimir Putin does have to face the problem that, on top of all the projected social and healthcare costs, the coronavirus is also having negative political consequences. On March 25, the ‘popular vote’ - a mock referendum designed to rubber-stamp Putin’s recent constitutional changes - was pushed back. And the Ministry of Communications has been forced to postpone a major exercise aimed at ensuring the ‘stable and safe operation of Runet’ - namely eliminating vulnerabilities in the Russian ‘sovereign’ internet to potential external threats.

Certainly it would be naive to believe Moscow will put self-interest to one side during this pandemic. ‘International distancing’ is not new for the Kremlin, and Russia has been practising self-isolation since at least 2008 through its own actions, most notably in Georgia and Ukraine.

Its self-perception as a ‘besieged fortress’ is being reinforced by this crisis and Russia will, at the very least, likely come out of the crisis feeling vindicated in its view that internationalism is dying or already dead.

With the health systems of many countries under massive strain, and societal resilience being tested by social distancing, the Kremlin continues to probe for weaknesses, and is also carefully watching other countries’ responses to the crisis in terms of adaptation and mobilization of resources.

COVID-19 provides a major intelligence-gathering opportunity for Moscow to learn how well others can implement wartime-like planning in peacetime. In a rapidly changing world, Russia is still Russia.

Russia’s ongoing occupation of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula and support of separatist hostilities in the eastern provinces of Donbas have resulted in 1.5 million internally displaced persons, 3,000 civilians killed, and a growing list of alleged violations of international law and socio-economic hardship.

But Ukraine is struggling in its efforts to hold Russia accountable – either as a state or through individual criminal responsibility - as it cannot unilaterally ask any international court to give an overall judgment on the conflict.

So it focuses on narrower issues, referring them to authorised adjudication and arbitration platforms such as the International Court of Justice (ICJ), European Court of Human Rights, UNCLOS arbitration, and the International Criminal Court (ICC). These options are limited, but still worth taking - and their relevance is proving to be far wider than the Russia-Ukraine conflict.

Policy of cultural eradication

In 2017, Ukraine initiated proceedings against Russia at the ICJ on the basis of two international treaties: the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), with regard to Crimea; and the International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism (ICSFT), with regard to Donbas.

Under the CERD, Ukraine alleges Russia has carried out a policy of cultural eradication of ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars in Crimea, including enforced disappearances, no education in the Ukrainian and Crimean Tatar languages, and the ban of the Mejlis, the main representative body of the Crimean Tatars.

Under the ICSFT, Ukraine alleges Russia has supported terrorism by providing funds, weapons and training to illegal armed groups in eastern Ukraine. In particular Ukraine alleges Russian state responsibility - through its proxies - for downing the infamous MH17 flight.

Both these treaties are binding upon Ukraine and Russia and entitle an individual state party to refer a dispute concerning them to the ICJ, but certain procedural pre-conditions must first be exhausted. These include a failed attempt to settle a dispute either through negotiations or the CERD Committee (for the CERD) or unsuccessful negotiations and arbitration (for the ICSFT).

Russia challenged Ukraine’s compliance with the pre-conditions, but the ICJ disagreed with Russia’s submission that Ukraine had to resort both to negotiations and to the CERD Committee. For the first time, the court clarified these procedures under the CERD were two means to reach the same aim, and therefore alternative and not cumulative.

Requiring states to avail of both procedures before going to the ICJ would undermine the very purpose of the CERD to eliminate racial discrimination promptly, and ensure the availability of effective domestic protection and remedies.

The relevance of this clarification transcends the Ukraine-Russia dispute. With the rise of discriminatory practices, from populist hate-filled rhetoric endangering vulnerable communities to large-scale persecution such as that of the Rohingyas, the UN’s principal judicial body is sending a clear larger message to the world: such practices are unacceptable and must be dealt with expeditiously and efficiently. If states fail to do so, there are now fewer procedural impediments to do it internationally.

The ICJ also confirmed Ukraine had complied with both procedural preconditions under the ICSFT and that it would give judgement on the alleged failure of Russia to take measures to prevent the financing of terrorism. The outcome of this will be of great importance to the international community, given the general lack of international jurisprudence on issues of terrorism.

The court’s interpretation of knowledge and intent in terrorism financing, as well as clarification of the term ‘funds’, is particularly relevant both for the Ukraine-Russia case and for international law.

As the final judgement may take several years, the ICJ granted some provisional measures requested by Ukraine in April 2017. The court obliged Russia to ensure the availability of education in Ukrainian and enable the functioning of the Crimean Tatar representative institutions, including the Mejlis.

When Russia contested Ukraine’s references to the alleged Stalin-ordered deportation of the Crimean Tatars and the rule of law in the Soviet Union being hypocritical, by arguing that history did not matter, the court disagreed.

In fact, Judge James Crawford emphasised the relevance of the ‘historical persecution’ of Crimean Tatars and the role of Mejlis in advancing and protecting their rights in Crimea ‘at the time of disruption and change’.

These conclusions are important reminders that the historical inheritance of injustices inflicted on vulnerable groups should be taken into account when nations address their imperial legacies.

The court’s provisional measures and Judge Crawford’s position are particularly relevant in light of Russia’s policy of the total - territorial, historical, cultural – ‘russification’ of Crimea, as they highlight the role of the historical background for assessing the alleged discriminatory and prosecutorial policy of Russia’s occupying authorities against the Crimean Tatars.

The ICJ’s judgement on the merits of this as well as other human rights, and terrorism issues of Crimea and Donbas will be an important consideration for the international community in its view of the Russia-Ukraine armed conflict and the sanctions policy against Russia.

The development of this case also has a mutually catalysing impact on Ukraine’s efforts to establish those individually criminally responsible for atrocities in Crimea and Donbas, through domestic proceedings and through the International Criminal Court.

Ukraine’s attempts to seek individual criminal responsibility for gross abuses in Donbas and Crimea at the International Criminal Court (ICC) are assessed in part two of this series, coming soon.

Soon after assuming power in 1994, President Aliaksandr Lukashenka turned his back on democratic norms and overpowered the Belarusian political elite. However, the influence of the governing elite in Belarus is growing again. It seems likely that the current governing class could rule the country after Lukashenka leaves. It is thus important to study Belarusian elites not only to understand the current regime, but also to better forecast and navigate the political system that will one day replace it. 

This study group aims to disentangle how the Belarusian political system works, outline the types of individuals that make up the Belarusian ruling elite, assess the interaction of the elite and institutions with the West, and suggest changes that Western political actors might make to their approach to the Belarusian ruling class.

The armed conflict in Donbas has now entered its seventh year. President Zelenskyy, who came to power in May 2019, promised to end the war with Russia and bring peace to Ukraine.

Since assuming office, Zelenskyy has managed to revive the Normandy Format talks, complete military disengagement at three points along the line of contact and negotiate the release of over a hundred Ukrainians held as prisoners of war in Russia. However, ceasefire violations continue to occur frequently.

Looking at the origins of the armed conflict in Donbas and the region’s economic role in Ukraine’s economy, this event discusses the prospects for conflict resolution. Do the recent events signify an opportunity for peace? Does Zelenskyy have a viable plan for re-integrating Donbas or will the region be cut off from mainland Ukraine for the foreseeable future?

The speakers assess the strategy and track record of the Ukrainian government and its Western allies in bringing parts of the occupied Donbas under Kyiv’s control. They also review possible policy implications of the COVID-19 pandemic for the conflict.