Russia is one of the few countries in the region to have no legal definition of domestic violence and, as a result, there are no protective measures specific to domestic violence such as restraining orders or compulsory anger management training for abusers. In fact, the government has taken steps in recent years to remove any legal distinction between assault happening in one’s home, and elsewhere, with battery among family or household members for first-time offences decriminalized in 2017.

The Russian Ministry of Justice explicitly defended this position in its response to an enquiry into Russian domestic violence cases by the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) in November 2019. The ministry claimed existing legislation adequately protects citizens from domestic violence, ‘even though it has never been considered a separate offence’, reiterating that there is ‘no need’ for adopting specific legislation.

However, the four cases that led to the ECtHR’s enquiry demonstrate that current legislation is not sufficient. The most prominent case is that of Margarita Gracheva whose ex-husband severed her hands in 2017 despite her having made multiple complaints to the police ahead of the act being committed. If Russian legislation had mechanisms in place to isolate victims from their abusers, then Gracheva could have been protected by the law.

Instead, systemic impunity for abusers is supported by statements from people in power excusing domestic violence. The most recent of such statements came from the head of the Chechen Republic, Ramzan Kadyrov, in June 2020. When meeting with the family of a young woman allegedly murdered by her husband, Chechnya’s leader said, husbands beating their wives ‘happens’ and that the young woman should have tried harder to hold on to her marriage. These statements send clear signals to abusers that their actions are justified, and to the victims, that they won’t be protected if they were to come forward.

Similarly, to other parts of the world, civil society organizations in Russia have reported an increase in the number of cases of domestic violence during the COVID-19 pandemic. On a personal level, the pandemic has often exacerbated many of the factors that can lead to domestic violence such as stress, economic anxiety or social isolation.

On a systemic level, many of the provisions intended to protect victims of violence, which were already ineffective in Russia, have been worsened during the lockdown. Where police may not have rapidly responded to reports of domestic violence previously, under lockdown, they have become focused on  other priorities and, where shelters and support networks for the victims may have been scarce in the past, they have been further constrained.

Unsurprisingly, the strategy of the Russian state so far has been to deny that there is a problem of domestic violence, with the Ministry of Interior reporting that, according to their statistics, the number of domestic violence cases have gone down during the lockdown. Indeed, Chairwoman of the Federation Council, Valentina Matvienko, has said she does not believe lockdown has increased domestic violence because, on the contrary, families have been  ‘brought together’, reflecting wishful thinking at best and negligence at worst.

The pandemic has also been used as an excuse to postpone discussion of a federal law on domestic violence, drafted by civil society, that was submitted for review by the Duma last year. This bill would have introduced different types of domestic violence such as psychological and economic violence and transferred domestic violence offences from private to public prosecutions to make it easier for victims to seek justice.

The government’s disregard for domestic violence reflects, in part, the patriarchal mindsets of those in power but perhaps, more significantly, the Kremlin’s belief that conservative social groups constitute its main support base. This has been made evident by the politicization of Russia’s ‘traditional’ values in recent years which was vigorously deployed throughout the constitutional amendments campaign. While it is clear that the true purpose of amending the constitution has always been to allow Vladimir Putin to stay in power beyond 2024, amendments relating to this were absent from the government’s campaign. Instead, Russians were encouraged to vote by populist socially-conservative messages, hence why respect for traditional values has been added to the constitution.

Despite this, attitudes in Russian society are changing. A February 2020 survey by the Levada Centre showed that 61 per cent of Russians – and 74 per cent of Russian women – think domestic violence is a serious problem.

Moreover, the survey shows that women are much more aware of domestic violence than men – with every third woman in Russia admits being aware of domestic violence in their social circles while only every fifth man admits the same. This could be a sign that Russian men and women, on average, have a different understanding of what constitutes domestic violence. If so, adopting a law that defines domestic violence and holding a public awareness campaign is of paramount importance to eliminate any misunderstanding.

The difference could also be a sign that victims of domestic violence are more likely to confide in women hence making domestic violence less visible to men. This awareness gap perhaps explains the difference between men’s and women’s assessments of how serious the issue in Russia is.

The pandemic has provoked a new wave of discussions of domestic violence among Russia’s population with stories and statistics widely shared in the media and on the internet. As domestic violence becomes more visible, public perceptions are likely to shift further towards recognizing, and hopefully condemning, it. But, while legislation is crucial, the experience of other countries in the region, such as Armenia or Kazakhstan, shows that adopting laws on domestic violence is not enough. Measures are needed to ensure implementation of the law including training police officers and state officials and instituting disciplinary action for negligence of victims’ complaints.

Nevertheless, admitting there is a problem with domestic violence in Russia, and introducing laws, are an essential first step. The Russian government seems to have placed its bet on the support of conservative social groups but changing public opinion may prove this strategy unsustainable.

The virus of violence

During quarantine, the greater economic vulnerability of Ukrainian women has locked many of them with abusive partners. The uncertainty of personal finances, health and security in confinement has exacerbated domestic violence against women, in certain cases aggravated by the perpetrator’s war-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

In pre- pandemic times, only one third of domestic violence victims, 78% of whom are women, reported the abuse. During the pandemic, the calls to domestic violence helplines increased by 50% in the Donbas war zone and by 35% in other regions of Ukraine.

However, more precise estimates are hard to make. This is largely because some fractions of Ukrainian society still see domestic violence as a private family matter, which will get little assistance from the police. Also, reporting from a small confinement place permanently shared with a perpetrator during the lockdown can trigger more abuse.

The COVID-19-tested legal framework

The spike in domestic violence during lockdown has intensified the debate about the inadequacy of Ukraine’s approach.

Ukraine adopted the law on domestic violence in 2017 and made such behaviour punishable under administrative and criminal law. Importantly, the law does not limit domestic violence to physical abuse, but recognizes its sexual, psychological and economic variations. Domestic violence is further not limited to a married couple or close family members, but can be perpetrated against a distant relative or a cohabiting partner.

The extended definition of rape now includes rape of a spouse or a family member as an aggravating circumstance. A special police unit has been designated to deal with domestic abuse cases. Police can now issue protection orders in prompt reaction to an offence and immediately distance a perpetrator from a victim.

The victim can also spend time in a shelter - a system which the Ukrainian government has promised to create. A special registry of domestic violence cases has been set up for the exclusive use by the designated law enforcement and social security authorities to help them be more holistically informed in building a response.

However important, the introduced legal and institutional infrastructure was slow in proving its efficiency pre-COVID-19. It is struggling even more to stand the test of the coronavirus.

Changing the established mindset takes time. 38% of Ukraine’s judges and 39% of prosecutors still struggle to see domestic violence not as a household issue. Even though the police are becoming more reactive to home abuse complaints, getting emergency protection orders is still difficult. The court restraining orders are more effective, however they require the unnecessarily protracted and humiliating procedures of proving one’s own victimhood to different state authorities.

In response to the challenges of coronavirus for women, the police spread information posters and created a special chat-bot about the available help. However, while the domestic violence helplines of La Strada and other human rights NGOs are busier than ever, the police statistics suggest that the lockdown has not catalyzed home abuse.

This could indicate a higher trust to non-state institutions and the inability of a considerable group of women to use more sophisticated communication means such as chat-bots when they cannot call the police in the presence of an abuser. This problem is exacerbated by a current  lack of shelters in rural areas, as most are located in urban settings. Overcrowded in ordinary times, the shelters’ capacity to accept survivors during the lockdown is further limited by the social distancing rules.

Istanbul Convention – The bigger picture

Ukraine failed to ratify the Council of Europe Convention on preventing and combating violence against women, better known as the Istanbul Convention, largely due to the opposition of religious organizations. Concerned that the treaty’s terms ‘gender’ and ‘sexual orientation’ would contribute to the promotion of same-sex relationships in Ukraine, they argued that Ukraine’s current legislation provides adequate protection against domestic violence. However, this is not the case.

The Istanbul Convention does not ‘promote’ same-sex relationships, it only mentions sexual orientation among the non-exhaustive list of prohibited discrimination grounds. Remarkably, Ukraine’s domestic violence law itself is against such discrimination.

The Convention defines ‘gender’ as the socially constructed roles a society attributes to women and men. Ukraine’s overcautiousness about the term is ironic at least in two dimensions.

First, the 2017 domestic violence law restates its aim to eliminate discriminating beliefs about the social roles of each ‘sex’. In doing so, the law supports the rationale of what the Istanbul Convention denotes as ‘gender’ without using the term itself.

Second,  it is exactly the constraints of the rigidly defined niches for both sexes in Ukraine that have substantially contributed to the intensified domestic violence, whether it be  war or  coronavirus-related. The lack of sustainable psychological support for traumatized veterans and the stigma of mental health struggles, especially among men, mars their reintegration to peaceful life. This often results in alcohol abuse or even suicide.

As the economic uncertainty of the war and the virus prevents some men from fully living up to their traditional socially - and self-imposed - breadwinner role, this increases the risk of problematic behaviour and domestic violence.

By diverting the focus of the debate  to the term ‘gender’ used in the Istanbul Convention, conservative groups have ignored the fact that it describes the priority already enshrined in Ukraine’s 2017 law - to eliminate discriminatory beliefs about the socially constructed roles of men and women. This has drawn away time and resources needed to protect those vulnerable to domestic abuse.

Ukraine has not addressed the pigeonholing of women and men into gendered stereotypes. This has harmed men while further victimizing women and children, especially during the lockdown. Ironically, this is leading to the undermining of the very traditional family values certain opponents of the Istanbul Convention appealed to.

Fortunately, Ukraine’s ever-vigilant civil society,  dismayed at the wave of the lockdown domestic violence, petitioned President Zelenskyy to ratify the Convention. With a new draft law on ratification, the ball is now in the parliament’s court. It remains to be seen whether Ukraine’s policymakers will be up to the task.            

While we must wait for the final reckoning of most successful national coronavirus responses, it does still appear those countries with memories of MERS and SARS - such as Singapore, Taiwan, Hong-Kong, and South Korea – led the way in being best prepared for COVID-19, with strong contract tracing and isolation measures.

Experience of previous outbreaks informed the containment strategies adopted by countries in East Asia in response to COVID-19. Vietnam reported its first case of COVID-19 in January but, over the following four months with rapid targeted testing, contact tracing and successful containment, only around 300 additional cases with no deaths were confirmed.

These countries learned to be flexible fast when new transmissions occurred, establishing quick lockdown measures targeted at key groups such as Singapore’s schools or South Korea’s night clubs and religious centres. In stark contrast, most European countries were overwhelmed by the pandemic despite enjoying world-class health systems, predictive models, scientific expertise, wealth, and resources.

Asia may have suffered first from coronavirus, but there is no ‘first mover advantage’ in dealing with a pandemic. The more resilient a society, the better placed it is to cope with a variety of risks and challenges. But to become resilient, a society needs to have faced setbacks and learned from them. And to remain resilient, it needs to stay aware of its own vulnerabilities and avoid complacency.

Prior experience of crises and disturbances, coupled with a ‘trial and error’ process of learning to deal with them, makes a society more resilient, whereas high levels of economic welfare and relative lack of recent crises leave some societies less prepared to face shocks. This is known as the ‘vulnerability paradox’.

Within Europe, it has actually been the Greek handling of COVID-19 that so far appears more successful than others. Greece is a country which has suffered a decade of austerity leading to a weakened healthcare system. And with one of Europe’s oldest populations, the Greek government was keenly aware of its own vulnerabilities. This prompted an early lockdown and a rapid increase in intensive care beds.

Although better state capacity and health system capability are clearly positives for mitigating disasters, citizens do tend to be less familiar with risk preparedness. This lack of experience can then breed complacency which threatens societies where risks are often complex, numerous, transboundary and inter-related.

Conversely, the absence of systemic resilience at a national level often puts the onus on family units or local communities – creating resilience as a necessary response to weak government capacity. There is little choice but to learn to look after yourself and your community.

However, although the vulnerability paradox helps explain why prior experience makes a system more resilient, societies need to stay aware of their own vulnerabilities and avoid complacency if they are to continually remain resilient.

Complacency coupled with a belief in the virtues of the free market has left some countries hit harder than others by the pandemic. In normal times, ‘just in time’ business models can be highly efficient compared to holding vast stocks. But it does not require hindsight to know that a global health crisis will see demand for protective equipment soar and these business models severely challenged.

Several societies have also witnessed a decline in trust towards institutions, especially politicians or the media. The deployment of science as justification for political decisions around coronavirus was presumably intended to help garner trust in those decisions. But when the science itself is inexact because of inadequate or emerging knowledge, this strategy is hardly fail-safe.

COVID-19 does provide an opportunity to rebuild trust by rethinking the relationship between the state and its citizens, to engage people more directly in a discussion about societal resilience with empowered citizens, and to rebuild a social contract between state and society in the context of recent significant changes and further potential threats.

It should also provide a salutary wake-up call to a range of ‘strongmen’ leaders prone to portraying issues rather simplistically. Although COVID-19 may be one of the few complex problems to which simplistic measures do apply - such as wearing a mask and using social distancing – these do not provide the whole solution.

Generally, declining trust in politicians reflects the ongoing inability of current politics to deal with a range of societal challenges. COVID-19 is certainly the most sudden and presents the biggest immediate economic shock of recent times, but it is just the latest in a long line of examples of political failure, such as conflict in the Middle East, climate change, terrorism, and cyber-attacks.

Along with the growth of automation and digitization which provide opportunities at the macro-level but threats at a more micro-level, what most of these issues have in common is that national responses are likely to fail. Restoring trust requires re-energized global governance, and this means compromise and humility – qualities which appear in short supply to many current politicians.

But, regardless of political will, building resilience to tackle ongoing or rapidly forthcoming challenges also rubs up against free market beliefs, because building resilience is a long-term investment and comes at a price. But by acknowledging vulnerabilities, avoiding complacency, implementing lessons from past experiences, and learning from others, policymakers will be better prepared for the next crisis.

Reconstructing societies through the prism of resilience creates fundamentally different outcomes to global challenges, and can build trust between elected representatives and the wider population. Accepting the vulnerability paradox and acknowledging that those generally less prone to disasters are actually less able to cope when change happens creates a powerful argument for this new approach.

Belarusian president Aliaksandr Lukashenka deserves sanctions. This election campaign in Belarus, which culminated in a vote on Sunday is the most brutal and dirty in its history. But, so far, the EU, the UK and the US have only issued familiar-sounding and futile appeals to the Belarusian authorities condemning their actions. Not imposing sanctions is a de facto licence to continue with repression.

Despite all this, the West is unlikely to impose significant sanctions afterwards. There are several questionable reasons for this. First, Western policymakers fear sanctions against Lukashenko will make him more likely to genuflect to Russia. However, relations with Russia have already deteriorated as Belarus accuses Russia of trying to interfere with its domestic affairs.

Sanctions serve as a wake-up call. The Belarusian authorities then might seek - once again - to repair relations with the West and reduce repression for greater assistance in any direct confrontation with Russia.

Second, the West is reluctant to implement sanctions because it has already invested somewhat in warming relations with Belarusian authorities. Punishing Lukashenko could mean burying the - admittedly modest - achievements of a Belarus-West dialogue that started in 2014 after the conflict in Ukraine began.

Even US secretary of state Mike Pompeo met with Lukashenko in Minsk this year, after which Belarus replaced a small but symbolic amount of Russian oil for American. All the same, the West has its conscience to answer to if dialogue is won but repressions continue.

The third reason why the West may not resort to targeted economic sanctions and visa restrictions is a latent concern whether such measures have any effect on democratization processes at all. They may be appropriate punishment, but there is little evidence they ever change the nature of a regime.

According to this logic, if the West imposes sanctions, the Belarusian authorities will continue to crack down with repression because they will have nothing to lose. That said, in previous years, the Belarusian authorities have released political prisoners in response to sticks and carrots brandished by the West. If Belarusian political prisoners did not have a price tag, the authorities would most likely keep everyone in jail.

To be fair, there are reasonable arguments in favour of and against sanctions. But if the West fails to impose them - be it through lack of political will or out of genuine concern about their effectiveness - at least it should focus on helping ordinary Belarusians withstand Lukashenko’s repressions. After the vote, arrested and jailed Belarusian citizens might lack money for lawyers and arbitrarily imposed fines.

If repression spreads further, independent media and human rights organizations will need funds to keep their structures running in the heat of the crackdown. Many entrepreneurs might lose their companies for openly supporting free elections. Thus, if the West will not sanction Lukashenko, it should at least show solidarity with these Belarusians in peril.

This article was originally published in The Telegraph.

The virus of violence

According to the UN (para. 7) and the International Criminal Court (ICC, para. 279), conflict-related sexual violence (CRSV) is quite prevalent in hostilities-affected eastern Ukraine. Both sexes are subjected to sexualized torture, rape, forced nudity, prolonged detention in unsanitary conditions with members of the other sex and threats of sexual violence towards detainees or their relatives to force confessions. Men are castrated. Women additionally suffer from sexual slavery, enforced and survival prostitution, and other forms of sexual abuse. Women are more exposed to CRSV: in the hostilities-affected area, every third woman has experienced or witnessed CRSV as opposed to every fourth man.

COVID-19 has redirected funding priorities, affecting the availability of medical and psychological help for CRSV survivors worldwide. In Ukraine, the very reporting of such violence, stigmatized even before the pandemic, has been further undermined by the country-wide quarantine-induced restrictions on movement and the closure of checkpoints between the government-controlled and temporarily uncontrolled areas.

Addressing CRSV in Ukraine

The stigma of CRSV, the patchy domestic legislation, and the unpreparedness of the criminal justice system to deal with such cases prevent the authorities from properly helping those harmed in the ongoing Russia-Ukraine armed conflict.

CRSV is equally traumatizing yet different in nuance for men and women. Female victims often choose not to report the violence. Women avoid protracted proceedings likely to cause re-traumatization and the disclosure of their experience, which could be particularly excruciating in small communities where everybody knows everyone.

Men also struggle to provide their accounts of CRSV. Their suppressed pain and shame of genital mutilation and other CRSV result in sexual and other health disfunctions. Combined with the post-conflict mental health struggles, this has been shown to lead to increased domestic violence and even suicide.

The very investigation of CRSV in Ukraine is challenging. Certain tests and examinations need to be done straight after an assault, which in the context of detention and grey zones of hostilities is often impossible. Specialized medical and psychological support is lacking. Investigators and prosecutors are hardly trained to deal with CRSV to the point that they do not ask questions about it during the interviews. Burdened by trauma and stigma, survivors are inclined to report torture or inhuman treatment, but not the sexualized aspects thereof.

Seven years into the conflict, the state still has not criminalized the full spectrum of CRSV in its domestic law. Ukraine’s Criminal Code contains a brief list of the violations of the rules and customs of warfare in article 438. It prohibits the inhuman treatment of civilians and POWs but does not list any types of CRSV.

The article has an open-ended reference to Ukraine’s ratified international treaties, from which the responsibility for other armed conflict violations may be derived. For the more detailed norms on CRSV, Ukraine should refer at least to Geneva Convention IV protecting civilians and two additional protocols to the Geneva Conventions, to which it is a party.

However, the novelty of the war context for Ukrainian investigators, prosecutors and judges and their overcautiousness about the direct application of international conventions mean that in practice, observing the treaty or jurisprudential instruction on CRSV has been slow.

Use of the Criminal Code’s articles on sexual violence not related to an armed conflict is not viable. Such provisions fail to reflect the horrible variety and complexity of CRSV committed in hostilities. They also envisage lesser punishment than a war crime of sexual violence would entail. Cumulatively, this fails to account for the intention of a perpetrator, the gravity of the crime and the trauma of its victims.

The lack of public debate and state action on CRSV understates its magnitude. Ukraine should break its silence about CRSV in Donbas and make addressing this violence part of its actionable agenda - in law and in implementation.

Ukraine should incorporate all war crimes and crimes against humanity of CRSV in its domestic legislation; ensure a more gendered psychological and medical support for both sexes; establish rehabilitation and compensation programmes for CRSV survivors; create special victims and witness protection schemes; consider the different stigmatizing effects of CRSV on men and women in criminal proceedings and engage the professionals of the same sex as the victim; map CRSV in the bigger picture of other crimes in Donbas to better understand the motives of the perpetrators; submit more information about CRSV to the ICC and educate the public to destigmatize the CRSV survivors.

The drafters of Ukraine’s transitional justice roadmap should ensure that it highlights CRSV, adopts a gendered approach to it and endorses female participation as a crucial component of reconciliation and broader policymaking.

Embracive policymaking

Although ‘the discriminatory line almost inevitably hurts women,’ 'every gender discrimination is a two-edged sword’, Ruth Bader Ginsburg famously argued before the US Supreme Court. This could not be more relevant for Ukraine. The conflict - and lockdown-related violence has reverberated deeper within Ukrainian society, raising fundamental questions about the roles of both sexes and gender equality.

The failure to address CRSV and its different stigmas for both sexes mirrors the general lack of sustainable gender lenses in Ukraine's policymaking. It is no coincidence that a June 2020 proposal for gender parity in political parties coincided with another spike of sexist remarks by top officials. While women get access to more positions in the army, sexual harassment in the military is investigated slowly. Despite all the impressive female professionals, no woman made it to the first four-member consultative civic group in the Minsk process. Such lack of diversity sends an unfortunate message that women are not important for Ukraine’s peace process.

Ginsburg said, ‘women belong in all places where decisions are being made.’ CRSV against either sex won’t be addressed properly until both sexes contribute with their talents and their grievances to all pillars of Ukraine’s state governance and strategy. Ukraine should look to engage professional women - and there are plenty - to join its public service not just in numbers, but as the indispensable equal voices of a powerful choir.

Healthy forests have always been a vital resource for the communities living in, and around, them. Offering food, clothing, fuel and medicine, forests also stabilize the water table and guard against soil erosion. Timber from forests also serves local, national and international markets, generates jobs and is an important revenue stream for many governments around the world.

Forests have also increasingly been tasked with combatting the double threats of climate change and biodiversity loss. Furthermore, the COVID-19 pandemic has put a spotlight on the role of forests in preventing diseases which has further added to the need to preserve the world’s forest area.

However, at the same time, pressure on forest lands is increasing, particularly for agriculture and also for mining, infrastructure and urbanization. But, with myriad demands placed on forests, and impacts that transcend political boundaries, achieving a balance requires a reckoning of local and global priorities.

International forest initiatives until now have, quite rationally, prioritized a globalized conceptualization of forests – privileging their place in global supply chains and global crises. International regulations around timber, for instance, are primarily aimed at securing a long-term source of timber by reducing illegality in the system while national plans under the Paris Agreement focus on forests primarily as a global carbon sink.

Within these initiatives, local impacts are often dealt with as flanking measures. Community benefit-sharing agreements, compensation schemes and incentive programmes are aimed at mitigating impacts and modifying behaviour at the local level so that these align with international goals.

Meanwhile, and despite intense international attention, it has been found that globally natural forest cover declined in the six years since the New York Declaration of Forests set a goal to halve deforestation. Greenhouse gas emissions have continued to rise and, although there have been successes, illegal timber continues to be traded internationally.

To halt these trends, it is important to reflect on the demands being placed on forests and to achieve a better balance between them. But this will require radical change. That’s why, in July, Chatham House convened an online Global Forum on Forest Governance at which these issues were explored.

One issue that was discussed is why it remains vital to listen to, and learn from, a wide range of voices. Single perspectives fail to acknowledge or respond to the full range of pressures exerted on forests therefore it is important to have a range of perspectives including those from the global north and south, economists and agronomists, social scientists and climate scientists.

But beyond the research community, all those who have a stake in forests must be included in the discussion too: women and men, young and old people, those living in urban and rural areas as well as people from the government and private sectors.

This lesson has often been repeated but rarely enacted perhaps because it is not easy to do and takes time. Nevertheless, broadening participation can help deliver the deep-rooted changes that are needed to the way forests are governed and managed.

Considerable evidence exists to show that improvements to governance can facilitate a more equitable approach to forests that better balances the needs and priorities of these different groups. Legal and institutional reforms, for example, that are sensitive to the needs of local populations have precipitated change. Successes in improving transparency have also been a key factor in holding both the private sector and governments to account.

Thus, creating radical change may not mean brand new ideas. Lessons can be learnt from the successes and failures of the past. It will be important that, as new and increasing demands are placed on already overburdened forests, these lessons are not forgotten and previous mistakes are not repeated.

What will matter over the next few years will be which ideas are acted upon and who gets to decide. As more than 100 countries announce plans to increase the ambition of their nationally determined contributions on emission reductions, and as the EU and the US move forward with plans to legislate deforestation out of commodity supply chains, a clear message that has emerged is that local actors need to be in the driving seat. This needs to go beyond listening and consultation to meaningful engagement that gives due weight to local priorities, perspectives and experience.

It’s easy to take a look at the array of economic and diplomatic punitive policies that the sanctions-happy Trump administration has slapped on individuals and countries from Argentina to Iran and conclude that they have failed to achieve their objectives. With US oil sanctions on Venezuela, trade sanctions on select Argentine, Brazilian and Canadian exports and the tightening of the US embargo on Cuba, sanctions have become a go-to tool of the current administration.

Have they worked so far? Some have. Some haven’t. All of this leads to a legitimate question: when do they? The most extreme example, the US embargo on Cuba – first imposed by executive order under the Trading with the Enemy Act in 1961 and then codified into law by the Cuba Democracy Act (1992) and Libertad Act (1996) passed by Congress – has failed miserably, but remains an article of faith among its advocates, the bulk of them in southern Florida. The 1992 Democracy Act and 1996 Libertad Act have failed to produce either democracy or liberty in Cuba… yet their potential efficacy persists in the collective imaginations of their supporters. Why?

Conditions on Cuba

Any policy needs to have an explicit goal and with it an implicit or explicit theory of change. Whether it’s advertising that smoking kills on cigarette packages or trade negotiations, these efforts have behind them an explicit idea of the change they seek to foster and the causal relationships to achieve them. These are testable and, in theory, subject to course correction if they are not meeting their intended goals. Has advertising reduced the incidence of smoking?  Are workers better paid and receiving better health benefits and labour protections under the trade agreement several years on?

None of those has applied on the US’s embargo on Cuba. First, the policy goals have changed. In some cases, it has been stated that the limitations on US commerce and travel to the island is to reduce the regime’s international support for autocratic regimes. But Cuba’s to-the-death support of the Nicolas Maduro government in Venezuela has demonstrated this isn’t working. 

Arguably it has had the opposite effect: by impoverishing the state-centered Cuban economy, the embargo has made the regime more dependent on the decreasing oil that Venezuela supplies the island nation. In other cases, the stated goal has been regime change as the titles of the 1992 and 1996 act titles reveal.

The latter even lays out a set of conditions that must be present in Cuba before the Congress can lift the trade and diplomatic isolation the US has imposed on the island unilaterally. Those include the release of political prisoners, the absence of any Castro family members from decision-making, and credible steps toward free and fair elections. 24 years after the passage of the Libertad Act, Cuba is no closer to achieving not just one but any of those goals despite the putative incentive of a full and complete lifting of the embargo.   

The question here is the implicit theory of change for the embargo. Here, embargo supporters have never been clear about this link. First, there is the implied hope that sanctions will impose such costs and suffering on the general population that the masses will rise up and shake off autocratic rule of their overlords.

There are several problems with this. One is that general sanctions that reduce access to foodstuffs and finances – as has been the case in the US embargo on Cuba and sanctions on Venezuela – lowers the incentives for protest. It concentrates the government’s political and economic control over the population rather than weakening it. More, people who are hungry living under a repressive government simply aren’t that likely to rise up; they are often more concerned with the day-to-day struggles of getting by.

Second, there is a naïve notion that either those in power or those around them will see the light of day and decide to step down. Promoters of sanctions often have a cold-eyed reality of the nature of evil of autocratic governments. So why do they believe in some hidden decency among its inner circles? In truth, the purveyors of this view deny the basic and laudable basis for their hatred of autocrats: their bottomless cruelty and disregard for their own people. 

Do sanctions work? 

There is also a growing body of research on the efficacy of sanctions. Comparative research has revealed a number of conclusions, none of which appear to have been considered by current policymakers in the White House or State Department.  

The first of these is that sanctions work when they are implemented broadly by a wide coalition of governments. Most of the sanctions that have succeeded in their intentions have been along those lines including the UN sanctions on Iran to push the country to a nuclear deal.  

The second is that the goals of sanctions should be narrow and clearly defined. Successful cases, as Daniel Drezner who wrote a book on the topic has detailed, have been tied to specific goals. Regime change is not one of those. It is too broad and amorphous – though as I say above also unrealistic in its logic between intended effect and the targeted individual. 

A third element of successful sanctions is keeping them flexible and credible. As detailed in a Council on Foreign Relations backgrounder ‘the target must believe that sanctions will be increased or reduced based on its behaviour.’ 

That’s never been the case with Cuba sanctions under the Democracy or Libertad acts. Instead, sanctions relief is presented as a binary choice: democracy or nothing. There are no provisions for intermediate steps that could potentially incentivize changes of behaviour toward loosening state control and reducing human rights abuses.  

The recent tightening of the US embargo that included restrictions on US travel to Cuba and financial transactions under the Trump White House has been disconnected from any specific policy changes in the island. In this case, human rights conditions that the changes were linked to or intended to punish had not taken a dramatic turn for the worse. They were instead intended to simply ratchet up pressure for an embargo which advocates felt was too leaky and hope for a collapse that would weaken the Maduro regime.

That is precisely the problem for many of the most strident advocates of the US-Cuba embargo: the policy has become the objective, divorced from on-the-ground realities and incentives to move them forward.  There is the legitimate concern that the sanctions hurt the very people that the policy claims to defend. They also serve as a rallying point for the Castro regime and a way to cover up for its own economic failures.  But the most damning indictment of the embargo is that in its almost 50-year history it has failed to achieve its objectives.

If the matter is the efficacy of sanctions, then the US embargo on Cuba does not meet the test. It’s not limited to Cuba. None of the cases of regime change that many of the embargo advocates love to cite, communist Eastern Europe, the Soviet Union and South Africa had embargos as tight or isolating as those imposed on Cuba for nearly half a century. There’s a reason for that. It’s basic logic.

A version of this article will also appear in Spanish in the journal Foro Cubano in September.  

If sanctions imposed by the UN Security Council, the EU, or states unilaterally, are not sufficiently targeted, and do not include adequate safeguards for humanitarian action, they can adversely affect the very populations for whose well-being they were imposed in the first place.  This is not a new concern, but one brought starkly to the fore by their impact on responses to COVID-19.

The detrimental impact of sanctions, which can prevent the supply of medical or personal protective equipment (PPE), or the provision of technical support or training to local health authorities is evident. Sanctions can also affect remote learning if support cannot be provided to local education authorities, export licences cannot be obtained for the necessary equipment and software, or if the companies providing reliable internet coverage are designated under the sanctions.

A comparison of US and EU sanctions on Syria reveals key challenges, but also opportunities for improving current arrangements for the imposition and implementation of sanctions so as to minimize adverse consequences in Syria and more generally.

The US has imposed broad sanctions, such as restrictions on the provision of funds, goods or services – even charitable contributions – to the Syrian government, including the health and education ministries, now playing a central role in the COVID-19 response.

UN agencies are exempted from these restrictions. A general license authorizes NGOs to conduct activities to meet basic needs, but it excludes those involving the government. So NGOs wishing to provide medical devices, PPE, training or other support to ministry of health staff have to apply for a specific licence.

But procedures for applying for licences are complicated, and the approval process notoriously slow.  No accommodation has been made to facilitate the COVID-19 response: no interpretative guidance – that would be valuable for all NGOs – has been issued, and no procedures established for reviewing applications more quickly.  There is no statement of policy indicating the circumstances under which specific licences might be granted.

Transactions with designated entities other than the government, such as internet providers whose services are necessary for remote learning, remain prohibited, and regulations expressly preclude applying for specific licences.

US sanctions frequently have a broad scope, both in direct and indirect application.  NGOs registered in the US, and staff who are US nationals, are directly bound by them, and grant agreements between the US government and non-US NGOs require the latter to comply with US sanctions.

This leaves the non-US NGOs in a Catch-22 situation – as they are not ‘US persons’ they cannot apply for specific licenses, but if they operate without such licences they may be violating grant requirements. This lack of clarity contributes to banks’ unwillingness to provide services, and may lead NGOs to curtail their activities.  This situation is regrettable in Syria, where the US is the first donor to humanitarian action, and also arises in other contexts where the US has imposed similar sanctions.

The EU’s sanctions for Syria are far more targeted. Of relevance to the COVID-19 response, they do not include prohibitions on the provision of support to the government that could impede assistance in the medical field.  There are, however, restrictions on the provision of certain types of PPE or substances used for disinfection, and also on transactions with designated telecommunications providers that affect continuity of education during lockdowns.  Although not prohibited, these activities must be authorized by member states’ competent authorities. Similar concerns arise about the complexity and delays of the processes.

The EU sanctions framework is complex, so the recent European Commission Guidance Note on Syria providing official clarification of how it applies to humanitarian action is welcome.  Although the note only explains the existing rules rather than amending them to facilitate the COVID-19 response, it does include a number of important elements relevant not just to Syria, but to the interplay between sanctions and humanitarian action more broadly.

First, it notes that ‘in accordance with International Humanitarian Law where no other option is available, the provision of humanitarian aid should not be prevented by EU restrictive measures’.  This recognizes that humanitarian assistance takes priority over any inconsistent restrictions in sanctions, and it also applies both to UN sanctions and unilateral measures. It is a starting premise that is frequently overlooked in discussions of whether sanctions should include exceptions for humanitarian action.  Its reaffirmation is timely, and it must guide states in drawing up future sanctions.

Second, the note states that sanctions do not require the screening of final beneficiaries of humanitarian programmes.  This means that once someone has been identified as an individual in need on the basis of humanitarian principles, no further screening is required.  This is extremely important to COVID-19 responses as it reflects a foundational principle of IHL that, to the fullest extent practicable, everyone is entitled to the medical care required by their condition without distinction.

Third, while responsibility for the implementation of sanctions, including the granting of authorizations, lies with member states, the note nudges them to adopt a number of measures to expedite and streamline such processes.  These include the suggestion that states could issue a single authorization for the provision of humanitarian aid in response to the pandemic.

The European Commission is to be commended for this initiative, which should be replicated for other contexts where the COVID-19 response may be undermined by sanctions.  These include Gaza, where it would be important to highlight that the designation of Hamas under EU counterterrorism sanctions must not prevent the provision of assistance to relevant ministries.

Failing to draw a distinction between the designated political party and the structures of civil administration risks turning targeted financial sanctions into measures akin to comprehensive sanctions.

The pandemic should serve as a catalyst for improving the system for the adoption and implementation of sanctions by the UN, the EU and individual states, including the UK as it elaborates its sanctions policy post-Brexit. The principles are clear: without prejudicing the aims for which sanctions have been imposed, humanitarian needs must always be prioritized, and met.

AI holds the potential to replace humans for tactical tasks in military operations beyond current applications such as navigation assistance. For example, in the US, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) recently held the final round of its AlphaDogfight Trials where an algorithm controlling a simulated F-16 fighter was pitted against an Air Force pilot in virtual aerial combat. The algorithm won by 5-0. So what does this mean for the future of military operations?

The agency’s deputy director remarked that these tools are now ‘ready for weapons systems designers to be in the toolbox’. At first glance, the dogfight shows that an AI-enabled air combat would provide tremendous military advantage including the lack of survival instincts inherent to humans, the ability to consistently operate with high acceleration stress beyond the limitations of the human body and high targeting precision.

The outcome of these trials, however, does not mean that this technology is ready for deployment in the battlefield. In fact, an array of considerations must be taken into account prior to their deployment and use – namely the ability to adapt in real-life combat situations, physical limitations and legal compliance.

Testing environment versus real-life applications

First, as with all technologies, the performance of an algorithm in its testing environment is bound to differ from real-life applications such as in the case of cluster munitions. For instance, Google Health developed an algorithm to help with diabetic retinopathy screening. While the algorithm’s accuracy rate in the lab was over 90 per cent, it did not perform well out of the lab because the algorithm was used to high-quality scans in its training, it rejected more than a fifth of the real-life scans which were deemed as being below the quality threshold required. As a result, the process ended up being as time-consuming and costly – if not more so – than traditional screening.

Similarly, virtual environments akin to the AlphaDogfight Trials do not reflect the extent of risks, hazards and unpredictability of real-life combat. In the dogfight exercise, for example, the algorithm had full situational awareness and was repeatedly trained to the rules, parameters and limitations of its operating environment. But, in a real-life dynamic and battlefield, the list of variables is long and will inevitably fluctuate: visibility may be poor, extreme weather could affect operations and the performance of aircraft and the behaviour and actions of adversaries will be unpredictable.

Every single eventuality would need to be programmed in line with the commander’s intent in an ever-changing situation or it would drastically affect the performance of algorithms including in target identification and firing precision.

Hardware limitations

Another consideration relates to the limitations of the hardware that AI systems depend on. Algorithms depend on hardware to operate equipment such as sensors and computer systems – each of which are constrained by physical limitations. These can be targeted by an adversary, for example, through electronic interference to disrupt the functioning of the computer systems which the algorithms are operating from.

Hardware may also be affected involuntarily. For instance, a ‘pilotless’ aircraft controlled by an algorithm can indeed undergo higher accelerations, and thus, higher g-force than the human body can endure. However, the aircraft in itself is also subject to physical limitations such as acceleration limits beyond which parts of the aircraft, such as its sensors, may be severely damaged which in turn affects the algorithm’s performance and, ultimately, mission success. It is critical that these physical limitations are factored into the equation when deploying these machines especially when they so heavily rely on sensors.

Legal compliance

Another major, and perhaps the greatest, consideration relates to the ability to rely on machines for legal compliance. The DARPA dogfight exclusively focused on the algorithm’s ability to successfully control the aircraft and counter the adversary, however, nothing indicates its ability to ensure that strikes remain within the boundaries of the law.

In an armed conflict, the deployment and use of such systems in the battlefield are not exempt from international humanitarian law (IHL) and most notably its customary principles of distinction, proportionality and precautions in attack. It would need to be able to differentiate between civilians, combatants and military objectives, calculate whether its attacks will be proportionate against the set military objective and live collateral damage estimates and take the necessary precautions to ensure the attacks remain within the boundaries of the law – including the ability to abort if necessary. This would also require the machine to have the ability to stay within the rules of engagement for that particular operation.

It is therefore critical to incorporate IHL considerations from the conception and throughout the development and testing phases of algorithms to ensure the machines are sufficiently reliable for legal compliance purposes.

It is also important that developers address the 'black box' issue whereby the algorithm’s calculations are so complex that it is impossible for humans to understand how it came to its results. It is not only necessary to address the algorithm’s opacity to improve the algorithm’s performance over time, it is also key for accountability and investigation purposes in cases of incidents and suspected violations of applicable laws.

Reliability, testing and experimentation

Algorithms are becoming increasingly powerful and there is no doubt that they will confer tremendous advantages to the military. Over-hype, however, must be avoided at the expense of the machine’s reliability on the technical front as well as for legal compliance purposes.

The testing and experimentation phases are key during which developers will have the ability to fine-tune the algorithms. Developers must, therefore, be held accountable for ensuring the reliability of machines by incorporating considerations pertaining to performance and accuracy, hardware limitations as well as legal compliance. This could help prevent incidents in real life that result from overestimating of the capabilities of AI in military operations. 

According to UN Youth, people aged 15-24 make up one-sixth of the world’s population but, in roughly one-third of countries, the eligibility for parliamentarians begins at 25 years old and only 1.6% of parliamentarians are in their twenties. Young people are largely being excluded and overlooked, both as political candidates and even as participants in political processes, giving them limited political control over their own futures. 

If politics continues to be regarded as a space for older, more politically experienced individuals from particular backgrounds, young people will continue to be left systematically marginalized, and overall disengagement with politics within societies will continue to grow. Global leaders may increasingly point out the importance of youth representation in national and international fora, but the reality is their real policymaking impact still comes mainly from self-organized and informal activities.

And yet, despite this continued exclusion, huge numbers of young people are interested in political and civic engagement, and they have been driven to create new spaces. Youth networks, movements, and constituencies have emerged which provide the opportunity for younger voices to express political stances, and thus enhance the diversity and inclusivity of political debate. 

From the global Extinction Rebellion protests, to the student-led Rhodes Must Fall movement in South Africa and the UK, there are numerous examples of the power of informal youth networks and movements pushing for change. In certain cases, such as Sudan’s political revolution in 2019, we can see how direct action by young people creates major impact, but unfortunately these successes are few as most informal initiatives remain overlooked and undervalued. 

Putting youth representation into government

Creating diverse representation requires the linking of vital informal networks to formal political processes. In response to a recent Common Futures Conversations challenge, one mechanism with the potential to achieve this aim that emerged is creating dedicated youth representatives within government departments, so that qualified young people with relevant expertise are formally appointed to act as the link between government and informal youth movements. 

These individuals should be hired as employees rather than volunteers and take up the responsibilities of a government employee, supported by a large network of youth-led movements and initiatives as well as a smaller, voluntary advisory board of young people. 

This network then acts as a sounding board for the representative, gathering the opinions in their local communities and bringing forward crucial concerns so the youth representatives can confidently feed into policymaking processes with a clear sense of the substance of youth opinion. Alongside the network, a voluntary board of young people could provide additional support to the representatives when required to consult a broader range of youth organizations.

Both in the youth network and the board, a key priority is to involve different movements and initiatives reflecting diversities such as geographic spread, people who are marginalized due to ethnicity, gender or sexuality, educational and professional backgrounds, and other factors. 

Implementing such a structure would ensure more diversity in youth representation, something which is missing in many existing youth participation and formal political structures. Representation needs to move away from only highly-educated youth living in cities to ensure more influence for those young people usually left on the sidelines. 

Youth involvement in politics leads to better civic engagement overall. It improves the influence and access of young people, and supports governments becoming more inclusive and responsive to the plurality of voices they are representing. It also has the potential of encouraging millions more people to become properly engaged with politics. 

In order to gain support from parliamentarians and policymakers, it is crucial to highlight these benefits and demonstrate how the support of young people helps shift the political landscape for the better. All the necessary parties already exist in most countries, so all that is required is to drive a collective initiative and for both governments and the youth to take responsibility for making it work.

As the former president of Ireland Mary Robinson said during a recent Chatham House Centenary event: ‘We need to make space for young people so we can hear their voices, their imagination, their commitment to question and speak truth to power. We need young people to feel that they are part of the solution.’ 

Building formal structures is a necessary step to achieving this vision, as it provides practical solutions to realize a more diverse, inclusive and meaningful participation of the youth in politics, and also creates more representative and responsive governments.

Domestic violence has always been a complex issue in Kuwaiti culture, often tied to norms and beliefs relating to family structures and concepts of guardianship, honour and discipline. As with other forms of abuse within the family, it is also considered a private matter and therefore not addressed publicly.

Despite a lack of up to date figures, the problem is widespread, affecting 53.1% of women in Kuwait according to a 2018 study. But Kuwait’s last submission to the Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) showed only 447 domestic violence cases had been through the court system in 2016, and only 76 of those resulted in a conviction. Given the known difficulties of reporting abuse and getting a case to court, it is not a stretch to conclude the actual figures of abused women is much higher than this figure given by the Ministry of Justice.

In one recently reported case, a pregnant woman was shot in the head and killed by one of her brothers while she was recovering in the in the intensive care unit of Mubarak Hospital from being shot by her other brother the day before. The reason for such a horrific double attack was she had married without her sibling's consent, even though her father had accepted the match.

Worryingly, activists and experts claim domestic violence has been rising in Kuwait during COVID-19, in keeping with global trends during lockdowns, and aggravated by the lack of legal resources and shelters for survivors. Highlighting this unfortunate situation, along with worldwide interest in the issue of domestic violence within the current epidemic, did lead to renewed media interest in the issue in Kuwait, and brought the lack of resources available to abuse survivors into the public eye.

And it is this renewed attention – alongside the fact Kuwait is about to enter an election cycle in November – that may well have driven recent governmental and parliamentary moves on the long-awaited family protection law, which recently passed in Kuwait’s national assembly with 38 votes for, one MP abstaining, and another voting against.

But 17 MPs were conspicuously absent from the room, including the Women and Family Committee rapporteur Alhumaidi Alsubaei, known for his human rights activism. This signals how complex the social and political issues associated with domestic violence as, although the official version of the law is yet to be made public, the submitted bill contained 26 articles.

The articles call for the formation of a National Family Protection Committee to draw up plans countering the spread of domestic violence in Kuwait, as well as the review and amendment of existing national laws which may be perpetuating the violence. Other provisions cover mandatory training programs for all government sectors involved in family protection, awareness programmes on detection, reporting and survivor advocacy, and issuing an annual report about domestic violence statistics.

Article 5 specifically calls for activating a domestic violence shelter and offering rehabilitation and advisory services, while Article 13 tackles the punishment of those who try and coerce survivors not to report abuse. These two articles are especially important because, although the Fanar Advisory Service and Domestic Abuse Shelter was formally opened in 2017, it has never actually been functional due to the delay of legislation needed to make it operational. Described as a ’stillborn dream’, the unused building is surrounded by sewage water.

The new family protection law also gives important provision for cooperation with civil society organizations, such as Eithar, Abolish 153, and Soroptomists Kuwait working on this issue. Although Kuwait already has several official bodies meant to be dealing with ending violence against women, in reality it has been these groups effectively dealing with the plight of abuse survivors. With no functional shelters, dedicated hotlines or specialized resources to assist victims, Eithar and Soroptimists Kuwait provide resources and support, while Abolish 153 focuses on filling the hitherto legal vacuum.

The path to getting this law put to a vote has been a long and winding one. Back in 2017, Saleh Ashoor MP submitted the first version of the domestic violence bill when he was heading up the Women and Family Affairs Committee. At that time, the bill was signed by just four other MPs - Safa Al Hashem, Ahmad Al Fadhel, Khalil Al Saleh and Faisal Al Kanderi. But it was the starting point and, several iterations later, it is essentially a version of that proposal which has been voted into law.

Much of the delay over the past three years, both with the legislation and activation of the shelter, has been due to the fact there were many bodies involved, such as the Ministry of Interior, the Ministry of Social and Labor Affairs, and civil society representatives, all of whom at times had different agendas. But alongside the amendment to the press and publication law which also passed that same historic day in parliament, the family protection law is undoubtedly a major win for all those liberal civil society activists who have lobbied long and hard to change these dangerous and restrictive legislations in Kuwait.