Last month the European Commission proposed that the EU should mobilize the next tranche of funding for Turkey (€3 billion) under the EU–Turkey deal agreed in 2016. The deal is part of a rapidly developing strategy on the part of the EU to improve cooperation on migration issues with countries of origin as well as those through which migrants and refugees transit en route to Europe. Since 2015, the EU has ramped up negotiations, with the New Partnership Framework underpinning arrangements with countries such as Niger, Mali and Ethiopia, and endorsing a memorandum of understanding between Italy and Libya in February 2017.

A common thread that runs across all of these deals is their focus on containment in exchange for funding, rather than a principled approach to refugee protection. For example, the EU has committed around €6 billion to Turkey as a contribution towards the cost of humanitarian assistance for the over 3 million Syrian refugees residing there. This funding also operates as an incentive for Turkey to take back all refugees and migrants who have irregularly arrived in Greece via Turkey since the deal entered effect.

Similarly, the EU is providing financial support to Libya in exchange for its cooperation in reducing the flow of migrants and refugees towards Europe, while the New Partnership Framework aims to reduce the number of migrants and refugees departing for Europe in exchange for EU aid. While financial incentives geared towards containment do not amount to new policy, with the increasing number of deals being negotiated, the use of such a strategy appears to be both accelerating and becoming more explicit.

An effective investment?

Implementation of these deals has been hindered by obligations under international law, raising questions not only as to their legality but also their value for money.

Under the EU–Turkey deal, refugees arriving in Greece irregularly were to be returned to Turkey, with an equal number of Syrian refugees resettled to Europe in exchange. However, implementation of this aspect of the deal has been limited.

Under EU asylum law, Greece is obliged to provide access to asylum procedures for those arriving on its shores. Given that most arrivals from Turkey came from refugee-producing countries (including Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq), an individualized assessment of ‘safe third country’ is required before any possible return to Turkey can take place. This requires a finding that Turkey can guarantee effective access to protection for the individual in question, including protection against refoulement (i.e. forced return to a country where he or she is at risk of serious harm or persecution). By the end March 2018, only 2,164 people had been returned to Turkey.

As for Italy, with EU support, under the MOU with Libya it has been training as well as providing funding and logistical support to the Libyan coastguard – including an Italian naval presence in Libyan waters – to intercept boats in the Mediterranean. Given the mounting evidence of abuse of migrants and refugees, whether by Libyan coastguards or inside Libyan detention centres, this raises questions as to whether the support being provided by Italy and the EU amounts to a breach of international law.

Despite concerns about the protection risks for refugees, advocates of such deals claim they have the potential to prevent dangerous journeys, saving lives and interrupting the business model of smugglers. Numbers crossing the Mediterranean have indeed dropped since the deals were agreed. However, in Libya it has created an ‘anti-smuggling’ market which, despite leading to a reduction of migration in the short term, may not be sustainable in the long term if it drives conflict between various non-state actors.

In the case of the EU–Turkey deal, while it has led to a fall in arrivals to the Greek islands in the first six months of 2017, there is also evidence that smugglers were already adapting their routes, forcing refugees and migrants to travel on the more dangerous central Mediterranean route.

For now, at least, these deals appear to have gained significant popular support within the EU. Italy’s approaches in Libya, for example, have been broadly backed by the Italian public – unsurprising given that some polls indicate 50 percent of the Italian population believe migrants to be a threat to public security. However, the drivers of public attitudes towards refugees and migration are complex and, as noted in a policy brief published under the Chatham House–ODI Forum on Refugee and Migration Policy, influenced in part by narratives driven by politicians and the media.

What some of these deals have achieved is the significant flow of aid money towards job creation and economic opportunities for refugees, incentivizing policy change in some contexts and producing real benefits for the refugees concerned (while reducing pressures on them to move onwards via dangerous journeys).

A prominent example is the Jordan Compact, a 2016 agreement between Jordan, the EU and international financial institutions including the World Bank to improve the livelihoods and education of Syrian refugees inside Jordan. While challenges in its implementation remain, including concerns about labour rights, the Jordan Compact has resulted in real improvements in education and access to the labour market for Syrian refugees. The Jordanian government has made policy concessions on access to work permits for Syrian refugees, removing some of the barriers that prevented refugees accessing jobs, while the EU has committed to ease trade barriers for goods produced in Jordanian factories on condition they hire a percentage of Syrian refugees.

Likewise, the EU–Turkey deal’s most successful component has been its financial contribution of €3 billion of aid under the EU Facility for Refugees towards support for the 3.7 million Syrian refugees currently being hosted by Turkey. This includes €1 billion allocated to the Emergency Social Safety Net, described by the European Commission as the ‘largest single humanitarian project in the history of the EU’, directly impacting the livelihoods of some 1.1 million vulnerable refugees.

Moving ahead

While some aspects of these deals reflect a genuine effort to cooperate in addressing the needs of refugees, other elements risk undermining the very essence of the global refugee protection regime.

The diplomatic squabble over a proposed refugee ‘swap’ of 1,250 refugees between the US and Australia in February 2017 highlights the danger of refugees becoming bargaining chips. Similarly, the Kenyan government’s announcement that it would close Dadaab refugee camp in late November 2016 cited the EU-Turkey deal as justification. Migration partnerships which emphasise the securing of EU borders against refugee arrivals may diminish the willingness of states in the Global South to continue to host large numbers of refugees.

While the positive aspects of such deals deserve acknowledgement, understanding their impact on refugee protection must be given greater attention. This is vital not only to ensure their workability but also to ensure that those countries who spearheaded the creation of the global refugee protection regime do not end up undermining its existence.

As polar ice melts, the Arctic will become increasingly important for its untapped oil, gas and minerals as they become more accessible, as well for its shipping routes, which will become increasingly cost efficient for cargo as parts of the routes become ice-free for extended periods. 

A number of countries, including Russia and China, are also exploring the possibilities around overflights, commercial fishing, the laying of submarine cables and pipelines, and scientific research.

Earlier this month, China announced the launch of its first domestically built conventionally-powered polar icebreaker, Xuelong 2, or Snow Dragon 2. Like its (foreign-built) predecessor,Snow Dragon, this vessel’s purpose is framed as scientific research into polar ice coverage, environmental conditions, and biological resources. 

It has not gone unnoticed, though, that China’s new icebreakers are also useful in testing the feasibility of moving cargo across the Arctic. China’s plans for a Polar Silk Road, as part of its ambitious multi-billion-dollar Belt and Road Initiative, include developing Arctic shipping routes. China recently invested in Russia’s Yamal liquefied natural gas project in the northern port of Sabetta and signed a framework agreement for Chinese and Russian banks to co-finance up to 70 joint projects in the Arctic region.

But China’s interest in the Arctic extends beyond the purely economic: it is also pressing for a greater role in its governance. Compared to the Antarctic – where governance is heavily institutionalized, governance of the Arctic is much less developed, largely due to their distinctly different natures. 

The Antarctic, which is predominantly landmass, is governed by a treaty with 53 states parties, freezing territorial claims and preserving this region for peaceful scientific purposes. By contrast, the Arctic Council was only established in 1996 and comprises the eight Arctic states that claim sovereignty over the landmass in the Arctic Circle, a region which consists largely of frozen ocean and which hosts indigenous populations. 

The legal framework is a patchwork affair, drawn from various treaties of global application (including the UN Charter and the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea), the Svalbard Treaty(recognizing Norway’s sovereignty over the eponymous Arctic archipelago), as well as customary international law and general principles of law. So far, the Arctic Council has been the forum for the conclusion of only three legally binding agreements.

China sees a gap for new ideas, rules and participants in this space. A white paper released by the government in January contains sophisticated and detailed analysis of the international legal framework applicable to the Arctic and demonstrates China’s increasing knowledge and capability in this area, as reflected in the growing number of Chinese international lawyers specializing in Arctic matters. 

The white paper seeks to justify China’s involvement in Arctic affairs as a ‘near Arctic state’, noting that the Arctic’s climate, environment and ecology are of concern for all states. The white paper uses familiar phrases from China’s vision for its foreign policy – such as the ‘shared future of mankind’ and ‘mutual benefit’ – to argue for a pluralist (i.e. global, regional and bilateral) approach to Arctic governance. 

China is sensitive to the risks of overreaching when it comes to states with territorial claims in the Arctic, especially as resource competition hots up. The white paper positions China as a responsible and peaceful power, whose participation in Arctic affairs is based on ‘respect, cooperation, win-win result and sustainability’.

China was admitted as an observer to the Arctic Council in 2013, along with four other Asian states (including Japan, which is taking an equally keen interest in opportunities for Arctic rule-making) and Italy. As an observer state, China has very limited rights in the council, but has been creatively using other routes to influence Arctic governance, including active engagement within the International Maritime Organization (IMO) and the International Seabed Commission. 

China participated in the formation of the IMO’s Polar Code of January 2017, which sets out rules for ships operating in polar waters. China was also one of ten states involved in the recent adoption of the Agreement to Prevent Unregulated High Seas Fisheries in the Central Arctic Ocean, which took place outside the umbrella of the Arctic Council. 

At a recent roundtable in Beijing co-hosted by Chatham House, Chinese experts noted China’s aspirations to develop the international rule of law in the Arctic through playing an active role in developing new rules in areas currently under (or un-) regulated, for example, through a treaty to strengthen environmental protection in the region. It was also suggested that China may also seek to clarify the meaning of existing rules through its own practice. 

China also has ambitions to contribute to the research of the Arctic Council’s Working Groups, which develop proposals for Arctic Council projects and rules. It remains to be seen to what extent Arctic states, protective of theirown national interests in an increasingly fertile area, will cede space for China to participate.

China’s push to be a rule shaper in the Arctic fits into a wider pattern of China seeking a more influential role in matters of global governance. This trend is particularly apparent in areas where the rules are still emerging and thus where China feels more confident than in areas traditionally dominated by Western powers.

A similar assertiveness by China is increasingly visible in other emerging areas of international law, such as the international legal framework applicable to cyber operations and international dispute settlement mechanisms relating to trade and investment.

China’s approach to Arctic governance offers an interesting litmus test as to how far China intends to deploy international law to assert itself on governance issues with significant global economic, environmental, and security implications – along with the degree to which it will be perceived as acting in the common interest in doing so.

In recent years, cybercrime has evolved from a niche technological concern into a prominent global issue with substantial preventative and remedial costs for businesses and governments alike. Despite heavy investment in sophisticated cybersecurity measures and the adoption of several legal, organizational and capacity-building measures, cybercrime remains a major threat which is evolving on a daily basis. Today’s cybercrime is more aggressive, more complex, more organized and – importantly – more unpredictable than ever before.

The challenges posed by cybercrime are experienced acutely by countries undergoing digital transformations: as the level of connectivity rises, so too does the potential for online theft, fraud and abuse. Cybercrime is pervasive but governments can work to limit its impact by creating a resilient overall economy and robust institution, and appropriately equipping law enforcement and the justice system to navigate its novel challenges.

To advance the discourse surrounding these issues, this workshop will assess the current cyber threat landscape and how it is evolving. It will identify the main obstacles encountered by law enforcement, the judiciary and prosecutors in their fight against cybercrime. It will also compare national, regional and global approaches that countries can use to effectively curb cybercrime and tackle its emerging challenges.

The 1967 Outer Space Treaty (OST) is the mainframe for space law. It recognizes the importance of the use and scientific exploration of outer space for the benefit and in the interests of all countries. It also prohibits national sovereignty in space, including of the Moon and other celestial bodies.

The OST prohibits all weapons of mass destruction in space – in orbit or on other planets and moons – and does not allow the establishment of military infrastructure, manoeuvres or the testing of any type of weapon on planets or moons. As the treaty makes clear, outer space is for peaceful purposes only. Except of course, it is not – nor has it ever been so.

The very first satellite, Sputnik, was a military satellite which kicked off the Cold War space race between the US and the USSR. The militaries of many countries followed suit, and space is now used for military communication, signals intelligence, imaging, targeting, arms control verification and so on.

However, in keeping with international aspirations, space is also being used for all kinds of peaceful purposes such as environmental monitoring, broadcast communications, delivering the internet, weather prediction, navigation, scientific exploration and – very importantly – monitoring the ‘space weather’ (including the activity from the Sun).

There are several other international agreements on space, such as on the rescue of astronauts, the registration of satellites and liability for damage caused by space objects. There is also the Moon Treaty, which governs activities on the Moon and other moons, asteroids and planets.[i]

More recently, states at the UN Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space (COPUOS) in Vienna have agreed on guidelines to deal with the worrying situation of space debris which is cluttering up orbits and posing a danger to satellites, the space station and astronauts.

The problem the international community now faces is that the use of space is changing dramatically and rapidly. There are more satellites than ever – well over 1,000 – and more owners of satellites – almost every country uses information generated from space. Increasingly, however, those owners are not countries, militaries or international organizations but the commercial sector. Very soon, the owners will even include individuals.

Small ‘mini-satellites’ or ‘cube-sats’ are poised to be deployed in space. These can act independently or in ‘swarms’, and are so small that they piggy-back on the launching of other satellites and so are very cheap to launch. This is changing the cost–benefit equation of satellite ownership and use. Developing countries are increasingly dependent on space for communications, the internet and information on, for example, weather systems, coastal activities and agriculture. 

Another major development is the advent of asteroid mining. Asteroids contain a wide range of metals and minerals – some asteroids are more promising than others, and some are closer to Earth than others. Several companies have been set up and registered around the world to begin the exploitation of asteroids for precious metals (such as platinum) and compounds (such as rare-earth minerals).

Legally, however, this will be a murky venture. The current international treaty regime prohibits the ownership of a celestial body by a country – space is for all. But does international law prohibit the ownership or exploitation of a celestial body by a private company? The law has yet to be tested, but there are space lawyers who think that companies are exempt. Luxembourg and Australia are two countries that have already begun the registration of interest for space-mining companies.

As humanity becomes more dependent on information that is generated in or transmitted through space, the vulnerability to the manipulation of space data is increasing. The demands on the use of communications frequencies (the issue of spectrum availability and rights), managed by the International Telecommunication Union (ITU),[ii] need to be urgently addressed.

There are now constant cyberattacks in space and on the digital information on which our systems rely. For example, position, navigation and timing information such as from GPS or Galileo is not only vital for getting us safely from A to B, but also for fast-moving financial transactions that require accurate timing signals.

Almost all of our electronic systems depend on those timing signals for synchronization and basic functioning. Cyber hacks, digital spoofing and ‘fake’ information are now a real possibility. There is no rules-based order in place that is fit to deal with these types of attacks.

Cyberweapons are only part of the problem. It is assumed that states, if they haven’t already done so, will be positioning ‘defensive’ space weaponry to protect their satellites. The protection may be intended to be against space debris – nets, grabber bars and harpoons, for example, are all being investigated.

All of these ideas, however, could be used as offensive weapons. Once one satellite operator decides to equip its assets with such devices, many others will follow. The weaponization of space is in the horizon.

There are no international rules or agreements to manage these developments. Attempts in Geneva to address the arms race in space have floundered alongside the inability of the Conference on Disarmament to negotiate any instrument since 1996.

Attempts to develop rules of the road and codes of conduct, or even to begin negotiations to prohibit weapons in space, have failed again and again. There are no agreed rules to govern cyber activity. The Tallinn Manuals[iii] that address how international law is applicable to cyberwarfare also address the laws of armed conflict in space, but data spoofing and cyber hacking in space exist in far murkier legal frameworks.

The current system of international space law – which does not even allow for a regular review and consideration of the OST – is struggling to keep up. Space is the inheritance of humankind, yet the current generation of elders – as they have done with so many other parts of our global environment – have let things go and failed to shepherd in the much-needed system of rules to protect space for future generations.

It is not too late, but it will require international cooperation among the major space players: Russia, the US, China, India and Europe – hardly a promising line-up of collaborators in the current political climate.

Filling the governance gaps

Norms of behaviour and rules of the road need to be established for space before it becomes a 21st-century ‘wild west’ of technology and activity. Issues such as cleaning up space debris, the principle of non-interference, and how close satellites can manoeuvre to each other (proximity rules) need to be agreed as a set of international norms for space behaviour.

A cross-regional group of like-minded countries (for example Algeria, Canada, Chile, France, India, Kazakhstan, Malaysia, Nigeria, Sweden, the UAE and the UK) should link up with UN bodies, including the Office for Outer Space Affairs (UNOOSA), COPUOS and ITU, and key private-sector companies to kick-start a new process for a global code of conduct to establish norms and regulate behaviour in space.

The UN could be the host entity for this new approach – or it could be established in the way the Ottawa process for landmines was established, by a group of like-minded states with collective responsibility for, and collective hosting and funding of, the negotiations.

A new approach should also cover cybersecurity in space. The UN processes on space and cyber should intersect more to find ways to create synergies in their endeavours. And the problems ahead as regards spectrum management – particularly given the large number of small satellites and constellations that are to be launched in the near future – need urgent attention in ITU.

Notes

[i] All of these treaties and other documents can be found at UN Office for Outer Space Affairs (2002), United Nations Treaties and Principles on Outer Space, http://www.unoosa.org/pdf/publications/STSPACE11E.pdf.

[ii] ITU (undated), ‘ITU Radiocommunication Sector’, https://www.itu.int/en/ITU-R/Pages/default.aspx.

[iii] The NATO Cooperative Cyber Defence Centre of Excellence (CCDCOE), ‘Tallinn Manual 2.0’, https://ccdcoe.org/research/tallinn-manual/.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

The study of secrecy and spies remain subjects dominated by Anglo-American experiences. In recent years there has been some effort to refocus the lens of research upon ‘intelligence elsewhere’, including the global South. This is partly because of intense interest in the Arab Spring and ‘managed democracy’, placing a wider range of secret services under the spotlight. However, the approach to research is still dominated by concepts and methods derived from studying the English-speaking states of the ‘Five Eyes’ alliance and their European outriders. This article calls for a re-examination of research strategies for Intelligence Studies and for those theorizing surveillance, suggesting that both fields have much to learn from area studies and development studies, especially in the realm of research practice and ethics. If the growing number of academics specializing in intelligence genuinely wish to move forward and examine the global South they will need to rethink their tool-kit and learn from other disciplines. We suggest there is a rich tradition to draw upon.