The Armenian–Azerbaijani conflict for control of the mountainous territory of Nagorny Karabakh is the longest-running dispute in post-Soviet Eurasia.

Laurence Broers, author of Armenia and Azerbaijan: Anatomy of a Rivalry, will discuss how decades of dynamic territorial politics, shifting power relations, international diffusion and unsuccessful mediation efforts have contributed to the resilience of this stubbornly unresolved dispute.

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.

Belarus rarely appears in the Western media, and when it does, the story usually does not go beyond the old trope of ‘Europe’s last dictatorship’. Since Russia’s annexation of Crimea, Western views on Belarus have diverged. For some it is an oasis of stability in a fractured region, while for others, it is a country in jeopardy and soon to become the Kremlin’s next target. Some applaud progress within the Belarusian political system and society while others see only stagnation.

This expert roundtable, to be held soon after the Belarusian local parliamentary elections, aims to disentangle these contradictory views by highlighting the key political trends to watch in Belarus.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

Kazakhstan is at a turning point in its history. At face value, at least, Central Asia’s wealthiest state has embarked on a bold experiment following the March 2019 decision by its founding father and long-standing ruler, Nursultan Nazarbayev, to resign from the presidency and initiate a managed political succession. A generational transition of this nature, untried in other former Soviet republics, brings with it high stakes. As well as looking to secure his own legacy, having dominated the country since before independence in 1991, Nazarbayev seeks to ensure Kazakhstan does not depart from the course he has set, while safeguarding regime stability in the context of multiple and evolving domestic and international challenges. This is easier said than done.

The uncertainty around this project is substantial, especially considering a ‘rowback’ decree just seven months after Nazarbayev’s resignation, limiting the powers of his anointed successor, Kassym-Jomart Tokayev. How long can Tokayev credibly remain president considering such a transparent undermining of his authority? Is Nazarbayev, in fact, grooming his daughter, Dariga Nazarbayeva, another relative or a power player from outside the family for the leadership in the longer term? Will the ‘Kazakh tandem’ of Nazarbayev and Tokayev function effectively, or will tensions and conflicts arise between them as many claim is happening already? How will the leadership cope with the protest mood now manifest on the streets of Kazakhstan, and address the political and socio-economic grievances fuelling this discontent? How might the political transition play out if Nazarbayev were to suddenly exit the political scene altogether?And what is the long-term transition plan for the time when Nazarbayev has departed, and how effective will it be?

As Kazakhstan enters uncharted territory, the purpose of this report is twofold. First, to make the case for the West to devote more attention to Kazakhstan. The country’s relative importance in Central Asia, and as the constant focus of intense attention from China and Russia, suggests that the West is wrong to direct so little time and diplomatic effort and so few resources towards it. This is not so much a miscalculation (that would be to assume there had been a calculation in the first place) as a misstep through neglect, presupposing that the future will resemble the present – with Kazakhstan remaining stable internally, relatively inconsequential geopolitically but nevertheless a friendly ally to the West. In fact, the country’s trajectory over the next few years is of potentially strategic import. This is because even its political semi-transition presents the West with a rare opportunity to push back against the global rise of authoritarianism, in a state that is open to rational argument and economic logic.

The second function of the report is to serve as a well-intentioned message to the leadership of Kazakhstan. The research undertaken by the report’s eight authors shows that Kazakhstan is at risk of failing to achieve the goals its leadership has set for the country. As significant as it has been, the partial stepping aside of Nazarbayev by no means guarantees the modernization and renewal that he and his successor have promised. Far deeper political, economic and social reforms will be needed if Kazakhstan is to meet the growing challenges to its stability, prosperity and development. Street protests since Nazarbayev’s resignation have demonstrated a level of popular disaffection far higher than the authorities acknowledge. The leadership needs to bridge the disconnect between the rulers and the ruled and start listening to its people.

To avoid slipping into decline, and to resist external pressures and geopolitical overtures that could diminish the sovereignty that its leadership is so determined to safeguard, Kazakhstan needs new faces – innovators and reformers – throughout every level of the administration, as well as new ideas. This report is intended to help with the ‘ideas’ part of that proposition. It also includes a series of recommendations for Western governments and institutions and for the Kazakhstan government. 

Belarus’s parliamentary elections, held on 17 November, were predictably non-transparent, with numerous violations. The regime of Alexander Lukasheka allowed no opposition candidates as members of parliament – in contrast to the previous parliament, in which there were two opposition MPs. While this might seem to be a return to ‘business as usual’, three key takeaways from the elections highlight a shifting political and social landscape.

1. Lukashenka is appeasing his ruling cadre by promising to increase their role in the political system.

With several influential officials becoming new MPs, it is more likely that parliament will be more involved in any forthcoming discussion of a new constitution. Lukashenka has been promising constitutional reform for several years; he has said publicly that it will lead to an increased significance of government agencies as well as parliament. The aim of this is to keep them more engaged and on Lukashenka’s side.

In terms of the composition of the new parliament itself, there are some key differences with previous years. It is no longer a comfortable place for officials to while away their pre-retirement: many MPs are now in their fifties or younger, and have plans for careers beyond parliament.

It also looks as if small steps are being taken towards the emergence of a party system in Belarus. The leader of Belaya Rus, a pro-government association of Belarusian officials, got a seat in parliament for the first time, increasing the likelihood of it becoming a political party. The number of MPs from different parties has increased to 21 (out of 110 in total). Although these still all broadly support Lukashenka, they can differ from the president in policy positions. For example, the Labour and Justice Party, with 6 seats in parliament, supported the annexation of Crimea in 2014. Change, of course, may not necessarily be in a pro-Western direction.

Moreover, the newly elected members of parliament look more like real politicians. They go to debates, speak to independent journalists and have their own social media channels. Some have even felt able to criticize the actions of the authorities.

Similar changes have been taking place in other institutions in Belarus. The government is now more competent than it has ever been. The National Bank has managed to carry out macroeconomic stabilization on one of the most unstable currencies in Europe, while the ministries responsible for the economic development have implemented certain small-scale reforms. The Minister of the Interior has even acknowledged mistakes made by his department (under his predecessor), and undertaken to make improvements.

This has resulted in a near-comical situation, whereby the Belarusian non-state media outlets have an increasingly positive view of some state officials, such as Prime Minister Siarhei Rumas, while the state media has been scaling back its coverage of him to ensure he does not become too popular.

2. Belarus has less need for the West and is reluctant to make even small concessions.

Since the slight warming of Belarusian relations with the West in 2014, Lukashenka has been having more meetings with prominent Western officials. Western institutions began trying to cooperate more closely with Belarus, but soon saw that it was not very interested. In 2018, the European Bank of Reconstruction and Development allocated €360 million to Belarus. However, it is now considering a reduction, as reforms in Belarus have not, in its view, gone far enough. The European Union has also committed considerable time and money to regional authorities, but this has not brought any significant changes to Belarusian local government.

The absence of opposition candidates also demonstrates that the Belarusian authorities are prepared for a new deterioration of relations with the West. The authorities could certainly have afforded some opposition in parliament, especially since they themselves choose whom to appoint. Given that they did not, they either do not consider worsened relations a problem or are confident that the West will continue to cooperate with Belarus in order to limit Russian power, regardless of its violations of the rule of law.

3. There is growing popular dissatisfaction with the current regime, but the state has no good plan for how to deal with it.

Parliamentary election campaigns in Belarus are traditionally low-key, but this year they were particularly muted. The authorities tried to ensure that people knew as little about the election as possible. Campaign posters appeared on the streets just two weeks before polling day. It seems the authorities were reluctant to politicize society, as further resentment at autocratic rule is brewing.

Many Belarusians who previously supported Lukashenka now have a very critical opinion of him. Take political blogging: the most popular political blogger in Belarus is a 22-year-old man who goes by the name of NEXTA. He produces low-quality videos which are highly critical of the authorities. A film by him about Lukashenka, released a month ago, has already received 1.8 million views, even though there are only 9.5 million people in Belarus.

The authorities are not in a concessionary mood. The presidential elections in 2020 will also likely be a sham. If the authorities’ grip over the country is weakened, they will fear an outbreak of anger, resulting in widespread protests which the regime might once again have to meet with violence.

Leaders of the resource-rich Central Asian region have the propensity to remain in power until mortality dictates otherwise. Much like the UK and Brexit, however, few wanted to see Central Asia’s longest reigning ruler, Kazakhstan’s septuagenarian president Nursultan Nazarbayev, crash out without a deal.

The sudden departure of the country’s official leader of the nation with no clear succession plan could have led to investment chaos, intra-elite fighting and the unravelling in a matter of months of a system he had built over decades, à la Uzbekistan following the death of long-serving autocrat Islam Karimov in 2016.

In order to avoid just such a ‘no-deal’ scenario and ensure the continuity of his policies, in March Nazarbayev carefully choreographed his own resignation and the election of a hand-picked successor, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, while retaining plum positions and powers for himself.

Tokayev’s assumption of the presidency was accompanied by protesters in the streets, increasing wealth inequality, rising Sinophobia among rank-and-file Kazakhstanis, a hard-to-kick economic dependence on oil revenues and a lack of clarity as to which leader—the old or the new president—would actually be calling the shots. But, amidst this plethora of concerns, as argued in a recent Chatham House report, Kazakhstan: Tested by Transition, one bright spot has been the tangible growth of intra-Central Asian cooperation, with the Nazarbayev-Tokayev ruling duo appearing eager to improve the regional dialogue.

Kazakhstan has long shaped its identity as a Eurasian state that has acted as more of an intermediary between Russia and Central Asia than as an integral part of the Central Asian region. But since 2017, in particular, Kazakhstan has been increasingly looking for opportunities to boost hitherto weak cooperation with its Central Asian neighbours. While this is first and foremost owing to the liberalization of Uzbekistan’s large market, there are other factors at work that get less airplay.

One such factor is a perceptible disentangling from the Kremlin’s policy directions as Kazakhstan has come to view Russia’s foreign policy as increasingly neo-colonial. The example of the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Union is in many respects more off-putting than inspiring, and Nur-Sultan does not want to be locked tightly into the union’s economic orbit. And in distancing itself slightly from Moscow in order to limit Russian leverage in its affairs, Nur-Sultan has shown itself to be more open to Central Asian regional initiatives.

As part of the leadership’s plan to offset oil dependence, Kazakhstan aspires to become the transport, telecommunications and investment hub for Eurasian integration. The intense focus on connectivity and the development of logistical arteries and infrastructure could have the knock-on effect of boosting trade within the Central Asian region and reducing transit times, which are currently greater than in most other parts of the globe.

In addition, demographic trends and educational shifts that favour ethnic Kazakhs, together with a growing ethno-nationalist narrative, have allowed the state’s leadership to identify more closely with Kazakhstan’s common Central Asian heritage and, by extension, a common Central Asian region—although Kazakhstan’s leadership still remains eager to demonstrate that the country is not just another ‘stan’. The coming to power of President Mirziyoyev in Uzbekistan appears to have made Kazakhstan more aware of the interconnectedness of the two countries in terms of geographical location and potential economic complementarities, as well as culture and history.

Not least, there is a growing recognition among the Central Asian states themselves—including isolationist Turkmenistan to a degree—that deepening regional trade is mutually beneficial, especially given the constraints associated with Russia’s economic problems. The strengthening of Kazakhstan’s ties with Uzbekistan has slowly kick-started regional cooperation as a whole: trade turnover between the Central Asian states in 2018 grew by 35 per cent on the previous year.

But both Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are keen to stress that there is no discussion of integration or institutionalization, not least because previous attempts at integration have been overtaken by Russia, leaving Central Asia without its own coordinating body.

The official consensus in Kazakhstan is that Uzbekistan’s economic reforms after years of isolation will spur ‘a healthy rivalry’ and ultimately boost Kazakhstan’s own economy, in so far as the competition for foreign investment will require both countries to work harder to improve their respective business and regulatory environments.

At the unofficial level, however, some Kazakhstani analysts view Uzbekistan’s rise as potentially unprofitable, given the possible diversion of some investments and market activity from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan. Moreover, Uzbekistan has the advantage of having undergone a clear change of executive, while it remains unclear which developments await Kazakhstan once First President Nazarbayev leaves the scene for good.

It can certainly be argued that Uzbekistan does pose a potential threat in the long-term to Kazakhstan’s entrenched position as Central Asia’s economic powerhouse: Uzbekistan’s population is one-and-a-half times bigger, even if its nominal GDP is three times smaller. Uzbekistan has a bigger market and a well-developed industrial sector, and is already the regional leader in terms of security. But it is not as though the world’s interest is moving from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan; rather, Uzbekistan is in the process of trying to catch up.

Despite this relatively upbeat picture, Kazakhstan’s combined trade with the other Central Asian states accounts for less than 5 per cent of its total volume of foreign trade—a figure that cannot begin to equal its trade with Russia, China, and Europe. As a result, Kazakhstan will continue to give greater importance to positioning itself as a global player than as a regional leader.

This article was originally published in The Diplomat.

Summary

• Russia’s economic management is currently praised for its achievement of macroeconomic stability. Inflation has been brought down; the budget is in surplus; national debt is low; and the reserves are ample. At the same time, there is much criticism of the failure at present to secure more than very slow economic growth.
• The macro-stabilization of 2014–18 was of a conventional, ‘liberal’ kind. Public spending was cut, and a budget rule was introduced that (so far) has weakened the link between increases in oil prices and increases in budgetary expenditure. The austerity campaign was harsh. Pensioners, the military, regional budgets and business all lost out, but in reality put up little resistance. The austerity drive was facilitated by the autocratic nature of the regime.
• The growth slowdown dates from 2012, and cannot simply be blamed on falls in the oil price and sanctions. Rapid growth in 1999–2008 consisted in large part of recovery from the deep recession of the 1990s and the initial development of a services sector. These sources of growth are no longer available; investment is low; and the labour force is declining. The Western world also has a slow growth problem, but at a higher level of per capita output. In Russia, private investment and competition are inhibited by an intrusive and corrupt state. If the rule of law were in place, the economy would perform better in the long run. That would require a profound reform of formal and informal institutions.
• The leadership wants faster growth, but has powerful incentives not to embark on systemic reform. Even the pragmatic ministers of the ‘economic bloc’ of government, who understand the problem, share this interest in maintaining the status quo. Growth is thus being sought through a highly ambitious programme, in 2018–24, of ‘national projects’, state-led and largely state-financed. This is already running into difficulties.
• The contrast between successful stabilization and a (so far) unsuccessful growth strategy illustrates the difference between policymaking within a given system and reform of that system. Systemic reform brings with it more potential unintended consequences than do changes in policy. In the case of Russia, movement towards a rule of law could destabilize the social and political system. It is therefore unlikely to be attempted.

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.

What does Britain’s departure from the EU mean for the country’s policy towards the South Caucasus, a small region on the periphery of Europe, fractured by conflict? Although Britain is not directly involved in any of the region’s peace processes (except in the case of the Geneva International Discussions on conflicts involving Georgia, as an EU member state), it has been a significant stakeholder in South Caucasian stability since the mid-1990s.

Most obviously, Britain has been the single largest foreign investor in Caspian oil and gas. Yet beyond pipelines, Britain also has been a significant investor in long-term civil society-led strategies to build peace in the South Caucasus.

Through what was then the Global Conflict Prevention Pool, in the early 2000s the Department for International Development (DfID) pioneered large-scale peacebuilding interventions, such as the Consortium Initiative, addressing Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, in 2003-09. These built civic networks in the South Caucasus and partnerships with British-based NGOs.

This experience left a strong intellectual legacy. British expertise on the South Caucasus, including specific expertise on its conflicts, is highly regarded in the region and across the world.

There is also a strong tradition of British scholarship on the Caucasus, and several British universities offer Caucasus-related courses. Through schemes such as the John Smith Fellowship Trust, the Robert Bosch Stiftung Academy Fellowship at Chatham House and Chevening Scholarships, significant numbers of young leaders from the South Caucasus have spent time in British institutions and built effective relationships within them.

Three challenges

This niche as a champion of long-term, strategic peacebuilding and repository of area-specific knowledge should not be lost as Britain’s relationship with the EU and regional actors evolves. This can be ensured through awareness of three challenges confronting a post-Brexit Caucasus policy.

The first challenge for London is to avoid framing a regional policy in the South Caucasus as an extension of a wider ‘Russia policy’. Deteriorating Russian-British relations in recent years strengthen a tendency to view policies in the European neighbourhood through the traditional prisms of Cold War and Russian-Western rivalries.

Yet an overwhelming focus on Russia fails to capture other important aspects of political developments in South Caucasus conflicts. Although often referred to as ‘breakaway’ or ‘occupied’ territories, Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Nagorny Karabakh are not ungoverned spaces. They have evolved into examples of what scholars call ‘de facto states’ that, to differing degrees, control territory, provide governance and exercise internal sovereignty.

Few disagree that these entities would not survive without external patronage. But neither does that patronage explain their sustainability on its own. Russia-centricity diminishes Britain’s latitude to engage on the full range of local drivers sustaining these entities, contributing instead to less effective policies predicated on competition and containment.

A second and related challenge is to maintain and develop Britain’s position on the issue of engaging populations in these entities. De facto states appear to stand outside of the international rules-based system. Yet in many cases, their civil societies are peopled by skilled and motivated activists who want their leaders to be held accountable according to international rules.

Strategies of isolation ignore these voices and contribute instead to fearful and demoralized communities less likely to engage in a transformation of adversarial relationships. Making this case with the wider international community, and facilitating the funding of local civil societies in contested territories, would be important steps in sustaining an effective British policy on the resolution of conflicts.    

The third challenge for Britain is to maintain a long-term approach to the conflicts of the South Caucasus alongside potential short-term imperatives in other policy fields, as relationships shift post-Brexit.

In this fluid international environment, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office has a role to play both as an internal champion of a long-term peacebuilding strategy and a coordinator of British efforts with those of multilateral actors engaged in the South Caucasus. These include the United Nations, the EU’s Special Representative for the South Caucasus and the Crisis in Georgia and OSCE’s Special Representative for the OSCE Chairperson-in-Office for the South Caucasus, all of which have built relationships with relevant actors on the ground.

Recommendations

Britain’s niche as a champion and advocate of a strategic approach to peaceful change can be secured post-Brexit in the following ways.  

First, in-house expertise is crucial to effective peacebuilding programming. The Foreign Office’s research analysts play a vital role in generating independent internal advice and liaising with academic and NGO communities. Their role could be supplemented by the reinstatement of a regional conflict adviser post, based in Tbilisi, tasked with strengthening Britain’s regional presence on conflict issues and coordinating policy at a regional level.

This post, with a remit to cover conflicts and build up area knowledge and relationships can contribute significantly to working closely with local civil societies, where so much expertise and knowledge resides, as well as other stakeholders.

Second, programming should build in conflict sensitivity by dissociating eligibility from contested political status. This can encourage local populations to take advantage of opportunities for funding, study, comparative learning and professional development irrespective of the status of the entity where they reside.

The Chevening Scholarships are an excellent example, whereby applicants can select ‘South Caucasus’ as their affiliated identity from a drop-down menu. This enables citizens from across the region to apply irrespective of the status of the territory in which they live.   

Finally, a holistic understanding of peace is crucial. Programming in unrecognized or partially-recognized entities should acknowledge that effective peacebuilding needs to embrace political dynamics and processes beyond cross-conflict contact and confidence building. Local actors in such entities may find peacebuilding funding streams defined exclusively in terms of cross-conflict contact more politically risky and ineffective in addressing domestic blockages to peace.

While cross-conflict dynamics remain critical, ‘single-community’ programming framed in terms of civic participation, inclusion, civil society capacity-building, minority and human rights in contested territories, and building the confidence from within to engage in constructive dialogue, are no less important.

The ’global Britain’ promised by Brexit remains a fanciful idea. Quiet, painstaking work to build on the legacies of a long-term British investment in a peace strategy for the South Caucasus, on the other hand, is a realistic and attainable goal.

Once an autonomous region populated mainly by Armenians in Soviet Azerbaijan, Nagorny Karabakh, is a contested territory in the Caucasus. Since the late 1980s, its contested status has driven popular mobilization among Armenians and Azerbaijanis and an all-out war between 1992-94. After a quarter-century of enmity and military build-up, in 2019, Armenian and Azerbaijani leaders agreed to ‘prepare their populations for peace’ but how would this work in practice?

Parts of a Circle: History of the Karabakh Conflict (2019) chronicles the disputed history of the decades-old conflict between Armenians and Azerbaijanis. Supported by the European Union and based on a series of three documentary films jointly produced over four years by Armenian and Azerbaijani production teams, the film showcases journalistic cooperation in bridging societies in conflict.

The screening was followed by a panel discussion that will explore the state of the conflict and the efforts to end it. Why have efforts to resolve the conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia not been successful? How can both sides build grassroot support for peace after years of fomenting hatred? And what can the international community do in support?

A short film about the making of the documentary can be seen here.

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.

After a tumultuous 2019 when Moldova witnessed the end of the Plahotniuc era, the country seems bound for an equally difficult year ahead.
 
Increasing international isolation, a temporary working coalition between the Socialists and the Democrats, concentration of power and resources in the hands of President Igor Dodon, and presidential elections in autumn are among the ordeals to be discussed at this event. Ms Sandu will assess how Moldova can move beyond these challenges and return to a path for sustainable democratic reform. 

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.

Russia annexed Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula in 2014. Despite Russia’s interpretation of its rights to the peninsula, international law and the international community, including the UN General Assembly and the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, regard Crimea as occupied and do not recognize any changes to its status. Against this backdrop, Ukraine has attempted to hold Russia accountable for the annexation through the international courts. 

The panellists assess the effectiveness of Ukraine’s reliance on lawfare as a means of holding Russia accountable for its alleged wrongs. What is the role of the International Criminal Court in addressing alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity perpetrated by Russia in the occupied peninsula? Were lengthy International Court of Justice proceedings, for example on the narrow issue of alleged racial discrimination in Crimea, worth launching? What further institutional and legislative reforms are needed to support justice and reconciliation in war-affected Ukraine? And what does this all mean for the situation on the ground?

Politically speaking, Russia has been isolating itself from the West for some years now, feeding its citizens a ‘besieged fortress’ mentality. Its uniqueness, however, means its approach to - and outcome from - the COVID-19 pandemic will also be distinctive. 

This webinar will explore how Russia is adapting its internal politics and its international relations to the ‘new normal’ of today. 

In early March, global oil prices fell sharply, hitting lows of under $30 a barrel. Two factors explain this collapse: firstly the decrease in global demand for oil as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic and, secondly, the breakdown in OPEC-Russian relations and the subsequent Saudi-Russian price war which has seen both countries move to flood the market with cheap oil.
 
Against this backdrop, the panellists will reflect on the challenges currently facing OPEC as well as the oil industry as a whole. How are OPEC countries affected by the ever-evolving Covid-19 pandemic? What are the underlying causes behind the Saudi-Russian price war? Is the conflict likely to be resolved soon? And what are the implications of these challenges for the oil industry?

This event is part of a fortnightly series of 'Business in Focus' webinars reflecting on the impact of COVID-19 on areas of particular professional interest for our corporate members and giving circles.

Not a corporate member? Find out more.

Both Russia and China have mounted combined charm offensives and disinformation campaigns on the back of the pandemic. Shipments of ‘aid’ – reportedly of questionable utility and quality - have gone hand in hand with a concerted effort to deflect any blame from China for the early spread, and an ongoing drive by Russia to undermine states’ confidence and have sanctions lifted.

These concurrent operations have very different objectives, as Russia seeks to subvert international order while China is continuing its bid to demonstrate global leadership - but in both cases, they are seeking long-term gains by exploiting the inattention and distraction of their targets.

Both seek to present themselves as globally responsible stakeholders, but for divergent reasons – especially China which needs the rest of the world to recover and return to stability to ensure its own economic recovery. But despite this, the two campaigns appear superficially similar.

Fertile ground for disinformation

One reason lies in the unique nature of the current crisis. Unlike political issues that are local or regional in nature, COVID-19 affects everybody worldwide. The perceived lack of reliable information about the virus provides fertile ground for information and disinformation campaigns, especially feeding on fear, uncertainty and doubt. But Russia in particular would not be succeeding in its objectives without mis-steps and inattention by Western governments.

Confused reporting on Russia sending medical supplies to the United States showed Moscow taking advantage of a US administration in apparent disarray. Claims Russia was sending ’humanitarian aid’ were only belatedly countered by the US State Department pointing out it had been paid for. Meanwhile the earlier arrival of Russian military equipment in Italy also scored a propaganda victory for Russia, facilitated by curious passivity by the Italian government.

In both cases Russia also achieved secondary objectives. With the United States, Russia scored bonus points by shipping equipment produced by a subsidiary of a company under US sanctions. In the case of Italy, Russian state media made good use of misleading or heavily edited video clips to give the impression of widespread Italian acclaim for Russian aid, combined with disdain for the efforts of the EU.

Beijing’s external information campaigns have sought to deflect or defuse criticism of its early mishandling and misinformation on coronavirus and counter accusations of secrecy and falsifying data while also pursuing an opportunity to exercise soft power. For Moscow, current efforts boost a long-standing and intensive campaign to induce the lifting of sanctions, demonstrating if nothing else that sanctions are indeed an effective measure. Official and unofficial lobbying has intensified in numerous capital cities, and will inevitably find supporters.

But both the aid and the information campaigns are seriously flawed. While appropriate and useful aid for countries that are struggling should of course be welcomed, both Russian and Chinese equipment delivered to Europe has repeatedly been found to be inappropriate or defective. 

Russian photographs of cardboard boxes stacked loose and unsecured in a transport aircraft bound for the United States sparked alarm and disbelief among military and aviation experts - and there has still been no US statement on what exactly was purchased, and whether it was found to be fit for purpose when it arrived.

Reporting from Italy that the Russian equipment delivered there was ‘80% useless’ has not been contradicted by the Italian authorities. In fact, although the Italian sources criticizing Russia remain anonymous it is striking that - President Trump aside - no government has publicly endorsed materials and assistance received from Russia as actually being useful and helpful.

Even in Serbia, with its traditionally close ties with Russia, the only information forthcoming on the activities of the Russian Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Protection Troops and their equipment that arrived on April 3 was from Russian press releases.

Both countries’ strategic communications efforts are similarly fallible. China’s notoriously heavy-handed approach to its critics is of only limited use in the face of such a severe and immediate threat. One suggestion that the virus originated in the US – an early response to US criticism – has already been walked back by the Chinese diplomat who made it.

And Russia continues to be capable of spectacularly misjudging its targets. When investigative journalists looked more closely at the nature of the assistance to Italy, Russia’s official response was rage and personal threats, laying bare the real nature of the campaign and immediately alienating many of those whom Moscow had sought to win over.

Errors and deficiencies such as these provide opportunities to mitigate the worst side-effects of the campaigns. And actions by individuals can also mitigate much of the impact. The most effective disinformation plays on deeply emotional issues and triggers visceral rather than rational reactions.

Advocates of ’informational distancing’ as well as social distancing suggest a tactical pause to assess information calmly, instead of reacting or spreading it further unthinkingly. This approach would bolster not only calm dispassionate assessment of the real impact of Russian and Chinese actions, but also counter spreading of misinformation on the pandemic as a whole - especially when key sources of disinformation are national leaders seeking to politicize or profit from the crisis.

Limitations of Russian and Chinese altruism must be stated clearly and frankly to fill gaps in public understanding. Where help is genuine, it should of course be welcomed: but if it is the case that assistance received from Moscow or Beijing is not appropriate, not useful, or not fit for purpose, this should be acknowledged publicly.

Even without central direction or coordination with other Russian strategic communications efforts, the self-perpetuating Russian disinformation ecosystem continues to push narratives designed to undermine confidence in institutions and their ability to deal with the crisis. This too must continue to be monitored closely and countered where it matters.

In all cases, miscalculations by Russia or China that expose the true intent of their campaigns – no matter how different their objectives might be - should be watched for closely and highlighted where they occur.

Despite the enormity of the present emergency it is not a time for any government to relax its vigilance over longer-term threats. States must not lose sight of manoeuvres seeking to exploit weakness and distraction. If Russia and China emerge from the current crisis with enhanced authority and unjustifiably restored reputations, this will make it still harder to resist their respective challenges to the current rules-based international order in the future.

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.

COVID-19 has put a serious strain on healthcare and economic systems around the world. This virtual roundtable will explore its impact on Russia, Ukraine, Georgia and Kazakhstan. Through a comparative examination of government and society responses, this event will show how COVID-19 has laid bare the region’s broader social, economic and political challenges.

Since the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared COVID-19 a pandemic, few countries have chosen to ignore social distancing recommendations. But, even among those states which have, the Belarusian official response to its epidemic remains unique.

President Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s statements that vodka, sauna and tractors are protecting Belarusians from coronavirus attracted amused attention in international media. Lukashenka also described other societies’ response to COVID-19 as ‘a massive psychosis’.

Although Lukashenka is notorious for his awkward style of public communication, the fact that Belarus is refusing to impose comprehensive confinement measures is of concern. Belarusians continue to work, play football and socialise.

Lukashenka, himself playing ice hockey in front of state cameras, claims it is the best way to stay healthy. Belarusian authorities clearly appear to be in denial – and this could have dire humanitarian consequences.

From denial to half measures

Belarus actually has one of the largest numbers of hospital beds in the world per 1,000 of the population. But in the absence of quarantine measures its health system, already crippled by corruption and embezzlement, is likely to be overwhelmed.

Patients being treated for pneumonia in hospitals have suggested medical staff are uninformed and inadequately equipped. It is claimed doctors are not reporting COVID-19 as the suspected cause of death, either through a lack of testing or for fear of reprisals.

Observers believe the real mortality rate is already well above official figures (40 deaths as of 16 April). Based on an Imperial College London model, between 15,000 and 32,000 people could die under the current mild confinement regime – and such a high death toll would hugely impact the country’s political stability. Citing personal data protection, the Ministry of Health has imposed a total news blackout; the only cluster officially acknowledged so far is the city of Vitsebsk.

Although specific Belarusian cities and some individuals started changing their approach – by extending school vacations or cancelling weddings – such measures remain half-hearted.

Clearly a major reason for such an apparently irresponsible reaction is that Belarus cannot afford a massive lockdown that would freeze its already underdeveloped economy and drive it deeper into recession. Unlike many other nations, Belarus lacks budgetary resources for a sizable stimulus package. But a delayed response might backfire on the economy.

Economic recession has been forecast to amount to at least 10% of GDP. For Lukashenka, who openly challenged conventional wisdom regarding the need for quarantine and isolation, such an economic downturn would harm his confidence rating in the eyes of Belarusian voters, mindful of the state’s mismanagement of the crisis. And it could create doubt within the ruling elite itself, with Lukashenka seeking re-election for a sixth mandate in late August.

Against this backdrop, a radicalization of the opposition-minded part of society is also to be expected, with greater reliance on social networks in the face of official secrecy and disinformation. The expected response of the regime is then likely to be pre-emptive repression. Evidence is emerging that law enforcement agencies have already stepped up judicial and paralegal harassment of dissenters, notably independent journalists and bloggers.

Russia’s initial reluctance to address the coronavirus crisis may also have influenced Belarus. Lukashenka and his administration often react to public health challenges by the Soviet rulebook, reminiscent of the Soviet authorities’ mismanagement of the Chernobyl disaster in 1986.

Russia has unilaterally closed its borders with Belarus and, as bilateral relations continue to deteriorate, this casts further doubt on the viability of the Union State of Belarus and Russia. Pro-Russian media forecast Moscow will be unwilling to alleviate the expected socio-economic crisis, as it continues to reject Minsk’s demands regarding subsidised oil deliveries. Yet the Kremlin might use the crisis as an opportunity to resume its integrationist pressure on Belarus.

China, with which Belarus engaged in a seemingly privileged strategic partnership in the 2010s, was actually the first country to dispatch humanitarian aid to beef up Belarusian capacity to fight the virus.

But Minsk should not expect Beijing to rescue its economy and, unless it commits to more internal reforms, Belarus is not likely to receive much from the EU either. The regime has already applied to the IMF for emergency financial support, but conditions are attached and, even if successful, the funds would amount to no more than $900m.

The government’s decision to take only half measures so far is rooted in the hope COVID-19 is not as bad as foreign experts fear. But, unless the leadership acknowledges the public health crisis and mitigates its economic impact, COVID-19 will accelerate Belarus’s slide back into international self-isolation. If combined with a humanitarian crisis, this will put the Belarusian regime under considerable stress.

This crisis does risk a new ‘Chernobyl moment’ for the authorities, but the population could react more vocally this time. As volunteers self-organise to fight the epidemic, it might become more difficult for the authorities to say that it is efficient in running the country. But the bottom line is Belarus desperately needs money. Whoever steps up to support Belarus financially will also be able to heavily influence its politics.

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.