Does the Indonesian government adequately protect human rights?

It does and it does not; it really depends on the context. Indonesia looks good among its neighbours in Southeast Asia in terms of protection of civil and political rights, and to some extent economic, social and cultural rights, although room for improvements exists.

But one of the promises of the current president, Joko Widodo, during his 2014 campaign was about international criminal justice, which involves rights for many victims of past cases of human rights abuses in Indonesia. In that sense, it does not protect these rights, including the rights to justice, truth, reparations or guarantees of non-recurrence.

For example, in the case of the conflict over independence for East Timor in 1999, there were many gross violations of human rights. However, there has never been any sort of effective judicial process to address gross violations of human rights, and crimes against humanity in particular.

In 1965–66, during the government’s violent anti-communist operations, 500,000 people or more were killed. Indonesia’s National Commission on Human Rights was tasked with conducting an investigation into this period within its limited mandate, but it led to nothing; there have never been any prosecutions relating to these crimes.

The election promise of the current president was to deal with a number of these past human rights cases, and this promise has not been met at all. His opponent in 2014, Prabowo Subianto, was a former military general involved in alleged past human rights abuses, so it was politically expedient to make such a promise. But it has not been pursued in office.

In 2000, Indonesia established its own Human Rights Court. What is your assessment of its record?

Some human rights activists suggested that the establishment of the Human Rights Court took place under international pressure following the independence of East Timor. To avoid international scrutiny, for example the creation of an ad hoc international tribunal, the government established this court.

Based on the report of the International Commission of Inquiry on East Timor in 2000, it was indeed recommended that an international human rights tribunal be set up. Indonesian government rejected the proposal with strong assurances that it would provide justice for atrocities committed by its nationals. So it is fair for some to see the establishment of Indonesia’s Human Rights Court as a political move by the government at that time, in order to avoid scrutiny by the international community.

When it comes to performance, the Human Rights Court actually investigated and prosecuted cases relating to atrocities in East Timor. There were around 100 suspects identified, and 18 were put on trial. Out of these 18, only one trial, of Eurico Guterres, ended in a conviction for crimes against humanity. However, the Indonesian Supreme Court cleared Guterres of all charges in 2008. So the Human Rights Court did take steps, but the net result amounted to essentially nothing. Impunity remains.

So it has not lived up to its mandate, but there is another factor, which is that the founding law of the Human Rights Court does not accommodate international standards of criminal justice. It only covers two of the four categories of crime as outlined in the Rome Statute – crimes against humanity and genocide. It also does not provide adequate protection for victims and witnesses. So there are issues not only with the performance of the Human Rights Court but also with the legislation establishing it.

Why hasn’t Indonesia become a party to the Rome Statute to join the ICC?

The main opposition came from the military, because they were afraid of being targeted by the ICC. There was also a lot of discussion about Indonesia’s ‘sovereign right to prosecute’.

But what those opposing failed to understand is that the ICC is bound by temporal and territorial boundaries, meaning that it will not intervene if the state in question is able and willing to prosecute. So I think accession to the Rome Statute has not taken place because of this misunderstanding.

I think another factor since this was initially raised is there is a focus on other issues. Indonesia is an emerging country economically; there is a focus on building infrastructure. So many in government feel like they are done with the past. But for the millions of victims of past crimes and their families, the past is not done.

So it’s very important at this point in the country’s history to revisit the commitment to international criminal justice to be able to contribute to sustainable peace and development.

What steps could the Indonesian government take to improve how it handles these issues?

The establishment of the Human Rights Court was an important starting point, but clearly there has to be significant reform, both in terms of the substantive law underpinning it and its procedures.

Clearly the domestic laws need to be reformed, but also, an effort needs to be made to improve the courts capacity in terms of manpower and logistical support. This is why the government needs to restart the discussion about becoming a party to the Rome Statute. Through the outreach programme of the ICC, this would give the Human Rights Court the capacity, in terms of manpower and logistical support, to tackle past human rights violations in Indonesia, which the Human Rights Court is currently lacking.

Only if these two steps are taken – reforming the domestic Human Rights Court and restarting discussion about becoming a party to the Rome Statute – will the Indonesian government be able to say it has made progress on international criminal justice.

The Indonesian government is actually running for a seat on the UN Security Council for the period of 2019–20. So I think it is an urgent discussion that the Indonesian government needs to have before it makes another pledge to contribute to the maintenance of international peace and security. It is difficult to have sustainable peace without justice.

On 10 September, US National Security Advisor John Bolton used his first major speech since joining the White House to attack the International Criminal Court’s (ICC) potential investigation of American personnel in Afghanistan. The ‘American patriots’, as Bolton describes them, are being investigated for potential torture and ill-treatment of detainees, mostly in 2003 and 2004, during the United States-led invasion of the country.

Bolton has a long history of opposition to the ICC. Although the US signed the ICC Statute under president Bill Clinton, it was ‘unsigned’ by Bolton, then an under-secretary of state in the George W Bush administration.

And when the court first opened its doors in 2002, Bolton helped secure, in what he described on 10 September as one of his ‘proudest achievements’, around 100 bilateral agreements with other countries to prevent them from delivering US personnel to the ICC. Those agreements were often extracted under pressure, with the US threatening to cut off military and other aid to countries that refused to sign.

In recent years under the Obama administration, relations between the US and the ICC improved, and the US offered help and support to the court. Bolton’s attack is aimed at reversing those gains – with measures aimed directly at the court and its staff.

These include: (i) negotiating ‘even more binding, bilateral agreements to prohibit nations from surrendering US persons to the ICC’; (ii) banning ICC judges and prosecutors from entering the US, sanctioning their funds in the US financial system and prosecuting them in the US criminal courts (and doing the ‘same for any company or state that assists an ICC investigation of Americans’); and (iii) ‘taking note if any countries cooperate with ICC investigations of the United States and its allies, and remember[ing] that cooperation when setting US foreign assistance, military assistance and intelligence sharing levels’.

These are serious threats – they would potentially undermine the work of a court that is designed to prosecute the world’s worst crimes. The ICC prosecutor and its judges would be barred entry from the US to attend to vital work of the court.

Some of that work, ironically, is at the behest of the US. For instance, two of the UN Security Council’s referrals to the ICC, one in relation to atrocities committed in Sudan, the other in respect of the crimes committed by Muammar Gaddafi in Libya, were referred with US support. 

Also, the meetings of the ICC Assembly of States Parties are held each year at UN headquarters in New York. Those meetings may have to be held elsewhere if the ICC judges and staff are under threat of arrest.

In the case of the potential torture linked to operations in Afghanistan, the ICC has not been acting on its own initiative in investigating. For example, the Center for Constitutional Rights submitted ‘victim’s representations’ to the ICC on behalf of two of their clients, Sharqawi Al Hajj and Guled Hassan Duran, emphasizing the importance of an ICC investigation of US officials for serious crimes arising out of post-9/11 detention and interrogations.

According to the center, both Al Hajj and Duran were detained by the CIA in black sites or 'proxy-detention' by other countries, tormented and tortured.

Although the US is not a party to the ICC Statute, Afghanistan is, and therefore the court has jurisdiction over US nationals who allegedly committed atrocities in Afghanistan. And it should be noted that the investigation includes pursuing any atrocities committed by the Taliban and Afghan security forces during the same period.

So the basis for attacking the work of the ICC based on this is shaky, and Bolton’s threats raise a number of important international law questions going forward. 

For one, they may be unlawful retaliatory steps, given that the US has obligations to accord at least some privileges and immunities to judges and other personnel of the ICC under the 1947 UN Headquarters Agreement between the UN and US. Counter-measures might be considered by member states of the ICC, either alone, or collectively. 

In this regard, Bolton’s comments about the EU will not go unnoticed: he suggests Europe is a region where ‘the global governance dogma is strong’. The US may yet come to learn just how strong that ‘dogma’ is.

With US abstention from the ICC, the opening remains for Europe and other regions to position themselves at the heart of the international criminal justice regime, thereby – as in response to the US attitude towards climate change – building a network of partnerships with other like-minded nations to compensate for US disengagement.

Further, while the ICC has many critics, and could be improved as an institution, Bolton’s speech may have the effect of galvanizing support for the world’s first permanent international criminal court. That could be a good thing for the court, which is sorely in need of support for its work.

Whatever concerns states may have about the ICC, they may be outweighed by a mutual desire to stand up to perceived bullying by the Trump administration, in favour of the international rule of law. 

The 1998 treaty which established the International Criminal Court (ICC) was adopted at a time when the world (or most of it) was willing to reach multilateral agreements on a variety of topics and was encouraging the development of international criminal justice. The two tribunals, set up by the UN Security Council, for the former Yugoslavia and for Rwanda had been relatively successful. The time was ripe for states to agree together to set up a permanent international court with wider scope than the two tribunals.

So the ICC was created, with jurisdiction over the international crimes of genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes; its jurisdiction for the crime of aggression developed later. The court was given the power to prosecute nationals of states that were parties to the ICC Statute, and also to prosecute where the crime was committed in the territory of a state party, whatever the nationality of the alleged criminals. The court had further jurisdiction when the Security Council referred a situation to it.

That was some 20 years ago. There is now a perception in many quarters that the ICC has not fulfilled the expectations of its founders. The court’s proceedings are cumbersome and lengthy. Many of the accused are still at large, including Omar al-Bashir, the former president of Sudan. Some €1.5 billion has been spent, and there have been only three convictions for the core international crimes.

There have been criticisms of the judges, the former Prosecutor and other officials, as well as concern over particular decisions of the court. The allegation that the court is only interested in crimes in Africa[1] is perhaps heard less frequently now than it once was (most of the African governments concerned referred the situations in their countries to the ICC themselves), and there has not been the mass walk-out of African states that was once predicted.

But in other quarters there is serious unease about the situation in the court. As the UK representative said at a meeting last year, ‘We cannot bury our heads in the sand and pretend everything is fine when it isn’t.’[2]

The negative assessment of the ICC’s work may be countered by the fact that it is the failure of states to cooperate with the court that causes many of the problems. Further, the expectations of states and civil society about the possibilities of international criminal justice have been so high that no court would be able to meet them. It is not possible for one court actually to ‘end impunity’ for international crimes,[3] nor to prevent war-related violence and mass atrocities, nor to satisfy all victims.

Moreover, the criticisms of the ICC come against the background of the global crisis for multilateralism more generally. The present US administration is notoriously hostile towards this international institution.[4]

On the plus side, the establishment of the court has encouraged states to revise their own laws on international crimes and to institute their own prosecutions where it is possible to do so. It is also claimed that the very existence of the court can be a deterrent to potential perpetrators of international crimes. The court has begun to add to the body of international criminal law and has increased the possibility that mass atrocities will be investigated.

But there is indeed some truth in the criticisms made of the internal workings of the court. One problem is that the particular combination of the civil and common law systems that has developed has produced cumbersome procedures regarding the representation of victims at most stages of the proceedings. It has also resulted in endless appeals from huge numbers of small decisions made by one chamber or another.

Then there are the management failures which have led to officials of the court being awarded compensation by the administrative tribunal of the International Labour Organization (ILO) because of the way they were treated by the court, and finally the decision of a few of the judges to take proceedings themselves at the ILO to have their salaries increased. 

Some ICC decisions have been met with surprise. For example, a former vice-president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Jean-Pierre Bemba, who was in the custody of the ICC for 10 years, was convicted by a unanimous trial chamber of various crimes and then succeeded on his appeal. Following this and the acquittal of former Côte d’Ivoire president Laurent Gbagbo,[5] there are concerns about the ability of the prosecution to succeed in cases against high-level alleged perpetrators.

Most recently, there has been criticism of the reasoning behind the appeal court decision regarding the immunity – or, rather, lack of immunity – of former president Bashir. And a decision of a chamber of the ICC not to authorize the opening of an investigation in Afghanistan has been seen as shielding the US from possible proceedings (though it has been welcomed by others as a pragmatic approach).

The message that certain problems with the ICC need fixing is coming not just from the writings of academics and the legal blogs,[6] but from governments too, including those, like the UK, which are among the foremost supporters of the court.

The former presidents of the ICC’s Assembly of States Parties (which comprises the representatives of all states parties) say that they ‘are disappointed by the quality of some of [the court’s] judicial proceedings, frustrated by some of the results, and exasperated by the management deficiencies that prevent the Court from living up to its full potential’.[7] 

Changes to remove the worst excesses of the procedures that have evolved could be effected without amendments to the treaty incorporating the ICC Statute. It may be that a change in culture is also needed. More modesty by the court, along with more realism from governments and civil society, is needed.

And, attractive as it might seem to push at the boundaries of the law, the court should be realistic in what it can achieve. It is next to impossible to prosecute a case effectively where there is no cooperation from the state on whose territory the crimes were committed.

What is needed is a court that can undertake efficient and effective criminal proceedings, delivering fair and impartial justice in the small number of cases which it is reasonable to expect it to address, in the light of the evidential challenges, limited resources and limited state cooperation.

Governments should decide together at the Assembly of States Parties to set in hand a review of the ICC’s operations. It has been suggested that a group of experts might be mandated to assess the management of the court;[8] on the basis of their report, governments could agree on the necessary improvements.

Not everything, however, can come within the remit of such a group. Governments should adopt new rules and practices to address matters such as the election process for judges and their training; governments might consider reaching their own understandings on how some provisions of the ICC Statute should be interpreted in practice. Governments should reach out to the many civil society organizations which have supported the court over the years, to ensure that they are involved in the process.

Measures of this kind cannot detract from the fact that the ICC is fundamentally sound and that its role is as necessary as when it was first established. As Richard Goldstone, former chief prosecutor of the United Nations International Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, has said, ‘If there were no ICC in existence today, many people in many countries would be agitating for and demanding one. That we have one is a singular achievement. It behoves us to make it the best possible and to assist it, as States, civil society, and individuals, in the best and most productive way possible.’[9]

Notes

[1] See, for example, du Plessis, M., Maluwa, T. and O’Reilly, A. (2013), Africa and the International Criminal Court, London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, July 2013, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publications/papers/view/193415.

[2] GOV.UK (2018), ‘UK statement to ICC Assembly of States Parties 17th session’, 5 December 2018, https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/uk-statement-to-icc-assembly-of-states-parties-17th-session.

[3] As the preamble to the ICC Statute desires. See ICC (2011), Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, p. 1, https://www.icc-cpi.int/resource-library/Documents/RS-Eng.pdf.

[4] See the speech of John Bolton, US National Security Advisor. Just Security (2018), ‘Bolton’s Remarks on the International Criminal Court’, 10 September 2018, https://www.justsecurity.org/60674/national-security-adviser-john-bolton-remarks-international-criminal-court/.

[5] Gbagbo was accused of various crimes which took place after Côte d’Ivoire’s election in 2010, in which Gbagbo lost power to Alassane Ouattara. The case was terminated by the court following a year’s hearings in which the prosecution put forward its evidence.

[6] See, for example, Guilfoyle, D. (2019), ‘Reforming the International Criminal Court: Is it Time for the Assembly of State Parties to be the adults in the room?’, EJIL:Talk! blog post, 8 May 2019, https://www.ejiltalk.org/reforming-the-international-criminal-court-is-it-time-for-the-assembly-of-state-parties-to-be-the-adults-in-the-room/.

[7] Al Hussein, Z. R., Stagno Ugarte, B., Wenaweser, C. and Intelman, T. (2019), ‘The International Criminal Court Needs Fixing’, Atlantic Council, 24 April 2019, https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/blogs/new-atlanticist/the-international-criminal-court-needs-fixing.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Goldstone, R. (2019), ‘Acquittals by the International Criminal Court’, EJIL:Talk! blog post, 18 January 2019, https://www.ejiltalk.org/acquittals-by-the-international-criminal-court/. Richard Goldstone is also a former justice of the Constitutional Court of South Africa.

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.

With international trade discourse taking an increasingly transactional and sometimes belligerent tone, it would be easy to overlook the quiet revolution currently under way to bring new voices into trade policy development and monitoring. The traditional division of responsibilities between the executive and legislature – whereby treaties are negotiated and signed by the executive, and the legislature does what is necessary to implement them – may be undergoing some change.

Growing awareness of the implications of trade and investment treaties for many aspects of day-to-day life – food standards, employment opportunities, environmental quality, availability of medicines and data protection, just to name a few – is fuelling demands by people and businesses for more of a say in the way these rules are formulated and developed.

Various options for enhancing public and parliamentary scrutiny of trading proposals have recently been examined by two UK parliamentary select committees.[1] The reason for this interest is obviously Brexit, which has presented UK civil servants and parliamentarians with the unusual (some would say exciting) opportunity to design an approval and scrutiny process for trade agreements from scratch.

Doubtless, EU authorization, liaison and approval procedures (which include a scrutinizing role for the European Parliament) will be influential,[2] as will the European Commission’s experience with stakeholder engagement on trade issues.[3] The recommendations of both UK select committees to include human rights impact assessment processes as part of pre-negotiation preparations[4] echo calls from UN agencies and NGOs for more rigorous and timely analysis of the human rights risks that may be posed by new trading relationships.[5] Again, EU practice with what it terms ‘sustainability impact assessment’ of future trade agreements provides a potential model to draw from.[6] 

However, process is no substitute for action. Human rights impact assessment is never an end in itself; rather, it is a means to a positive end, in this case a trade agreement which is aligned with the trading partners’ respective human rights obligations and aspirations. It bears remembering, though, that the idea of assessing trade proposals for future human rights risks is a relatively recent one. Do we have the tools and resources to make sure that this is a meaningful compliance and risk management exercise?

Thus far there is little evidence that human rights impact assessment and stakeholder engagement exercises are having any real impact on the content of trade agreements.[7] This is the case even in the EU, where practice in these areas is the most advanced and systematic.[8]

There are several possible reasons for this. First, the methodological challenges are enormous. Aside from the crystal-ball gazing needed to forecast the social, economic and environmental effects of a trade intervention well into the future, demonstrating causal links between a trade agreement and a predicted adverse impact is often highly problematic given the number of other economic and political factors that may be in play.[9]

Secondly, there are many challenges around the need to engage with affected people and listen to their views.[10] The sheer number of possible impacts of a trade agreement on different individuals and communities, as well as the range of rights potentially engaged, makes this a difficult (some would say impossible) task. Some prioritization is always necessary.

This makes for difficult decisions about who to engage with and how. Perceived bias or an apparent lack of even-handedness – favouring business compared to civil society, for instance – can sow mistrust about the true aims of such a process, undermining its future effectiveness as participants begin to question whether it is genuine or worthwhile.[11]

The challenges are even more acute where impact assessment practitioners are tasked with investigating potential human rights impacts in other countries. Even if it is possible to get past the inevitable political sensitivities,[12] the sort of in-depth consultations required will be beyond the budget and time constraints of most assignments.[13]

There are good reasons why trade policy should be subject to greater public and parliamentary scrutiny, and why there should be more opportunities for public participation in the formation of new trading regimes. By building more opportunities for stakeholder consultation at these stages, we can acquire perspectives on trade that are not available from other forms of assessment and analysis.

However, policymakers should be wary of overstating the benefits of existing procedural models. Human rights impact assessment processes are still struggling to provide compelling analyses of the relationships between trade agreements and the enjoyment of human rights, let alone a roadmap for policymakers and trade negotiators as to what should be done.[14]

And financial and practical barriers to participation in stakeholder engagement exercises mean that, at best, these will provide only a partial picture of stakeholder impacts and views.

Experiences with human rights impact assessment of trade agreements so far demonstrate the need for realism about two things: first, the extent to which one can sensibly anticipate and analyse human rights-related risks and opportunities in the preparation stages for a new trading agreement; and, second, the extent to which problems identified in this way can be headed off with the right form of words in the treaty itself.

Both recent UK select committee reports place considerable faith in the ability of pre-project transparency and scrutiny processes to flush out potential problems and prescribe solutions. Of course, there may be cases where frontloading the analysis in this way could be useful, for instance where the human rights implications are so clear that they can readily be addressed through upfront commitments by the parties concerned, whether by bespoke or standardized approaches.

More often, though, for a trade agreement running many years into the future, human rights impacts and implications will take time to emerge, suggesting the need for robust monitoring and mitigation frameworks designed with longevity in mind. Ideally, pre-signing approval and assessment processes would lay the groundwork for future action by both trading partners, either jointly or separately (though preferably both).

To this end, as well as developing ideas for more robust substantive provisions on human rights, policymakers should consider the institutional arrangements required – whether pursuant to the trade agreement or by complementary processes – to ensure that human rights-related risks identified during the planning stages are properly and proactively followed up, that emerging risks are tackled in a timely fashion, and that there are opportunities for meaningful stakeholder contributions to these processes.

Notes

[1] UK Joint Committee on Human Rights (2019), ‘Human Rights Protections in International Agreements, Seventeenth Report of Session 2017–19’, HC 1833 HL paper 310, 12 March 2019, https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/jt201719/jtselect/jtrights/1833/1833.pdf; and House of Commons International Trade Committee (2018), ‘UK Trade Policy Transparency and Scrutiny, Sixth Report of Session 2017-2019’, HC 1043, 29 December 2018.

[2] European Parliament and Directorate General for External Policies (2019), Parliamentary scrutiny of trade policies across the western world, study paper, March 2019, http://www.europarl.europa.eu/RegData/etudes/STUD/2019/603477/EXPO_STU(2019)603477_EN.pdf.

[3] European Commission (2019), ‘Trade policy and you’, http://ec.europa.eu/trade/trade-policy-and-you/index_en.htm.

[4] See UK Joint Committee on Human Rights (2019), ‘Human Rights Protections in International Agreements’, para 12; and House of Commons International Trade Committee (2018), ‘UK Trade Policy Transparency and Scrutiny’, paras 124–34.

[5] OHCHR (2003), Report of the High Commissioner for Human Rights on Human Rights, Trade and Investment, 2 July 2003, E/CN.4/Sub.2/2003/9, Annex, at para 63; UN Economic and Social Council (2017), ‘General Comment No 24 (2017) of the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights on State obligations under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights in the context of business activities’, UN Doc. E/C.12/GC/24, 10 August 2017, para 13; and UN General Assembly (2011), ‘Guiding principles on human rights impact assessment of trade and investment agreements’, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, Olivier De Schutter, UN Doc. A/HRC/19/59/Add.5, 19 December 2011.

[6] European Commission (2016), Handbook for Sustainability Impact Assessment (2nd ed.), Brussels: European Union, http://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/docs/2016/april/tradoc_154464.PDF.

[7] Zerk, J. (2019), Human Rights Impact Assessment of Trade Agreements, Chatham House Research Paper, London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publication/human-rights-impact-assessment-trade-agreements.

[8] Ibid., pp. 11–13. For a detailed explanation of the EU’s approach to human rights impact assessment, see European Commission (2016), Handbook for Sustainability Impact Assessment.

[9] Zerk (2019), Human Rights Impact Assessment of Trade Agreements, pp. 14–21.

[10] Ibid., pp. 21–22.

[11] Ergon Associates (2011), Trade and Labour: Making effective use of trade sustainability impact assessments and monitoring mechanisms, Final Report to DG Employment, Social Affairs and Inclusion European Commission, September 2011; and Gammage, C. (2010), ‘A Sustainability Impact Assessment of the Economic Partnership Agreements: Challenging the Participatory Process’, Law and Development Review, 3(1): pp. 107–34. For a civil society view, see Trade Justice Movement (undated), ‘Trade Justice Movement submission to the International Trade Committee inquiry into UK Trade Policy Transparency and Scrutiny’, https://www.tjm.org.uk/resources/briefings/tjm-submission-to-the-international-trade-committee-inquiry-into-uk-trade-policy-transparency-and-scrutiny, esp. paras 23–32.

[12] Zerk (2019), Human Rights Impact Assessment of Trade Agreements, pp. 20–21.

[13] Ibid., pp. 21–22.

[14] Ibid.

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 International Criminal Court cannot act when crimes are being genuinely prosecuted in a state. The meeting will discuss whether the ICC complementarity rules apply when a state puts restrictions on the prosecution of war crimes committed in particular circumstances or within a particular time period. In this context, the discussion will also cover the extent to which such restrictions are precluded by international obligations such as those in the Geneva Conventions with regard to the investigation and prosecution of war crimes.

Capacity to contain and respond to biological threats varies considerably across the world. Yet such preparedness is vital for prevention, impact-reduction and resilience in the face of biological events, whether they be natural or deliberate outbreaks.

Chatham House is conducting a series of meetings to strengthen urban preparedness for, and resilience against, biological threats in African countries. This meeting will examine the preparedness and prevention mechanisms in Accra, reviewing the comprehensiveness of city-level preparedness.  

This meeting will focus on the formation and implementation of city-level action plans in the context of preparedness for managing biological threats. It will also explore how local authorities are contributing to this effort with their knowledge and expertise.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only.

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.

A controversial debate during COVID-19 is the state of readiness within governments and health systems for a pandemic, with lines of the debate drawn on the issues of testing provision, personal protective equipment (PPE), and the speed of decision-making.

President Macron in a speech to the nation admitted French medical workers did not have enough PPE and that mistakes had been made: ‘Were we prepared for this crisis? We have to say that no, we weren’t, but we have to admit our errors … and we will learn from this’.

In reality few governments were fully prepared. In years to come, all will ask: ‘how could we have been better prepared, what did we do wrong, and what can we learn?’. But after every crisis, governments ask these same questions.

Most countries have put in place national risk assessments and established processes and systems to monitor and stress-test crisis-preparedness. So why have some countries been seemingly better prepared?

Comparing different approaches

Some have had more time and been able to watch the spread of the disease and learn from those countries that had it first. Others have taken their own routes, and there will be much to learn from comparing these different approaches in the longer run.

Governments in Asia have been strongly influenced by the experience of the SARS epidemic in 2002-3 and - South Korea in particular - the MERS-CoV outbreak in 2015 which was the largest outside the Middle East. Several carried out preparatory work in terms of risk assessment, preparedness measures and resilience planning for a wide range of threats.

And, at the international level, there are frameworks for preparedness for pandemics. The International Health Regulations (IHR) - adopted at the 2005 World Health Assembly and binding on member states - require countries to report certain disease outbreaks and public health events to the World Health Organization (WHO) and ‘prevent, protect against, control and provide a public health response to the international spread of disease in ways that are commensurate with and restricted to public health risks, and which avoid unnecessary interference with international traffic and trade’.

Under IHR, governments committed to a programme of building core capacities including coordination, surveillance, response and preparedness. The UN Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk highlights disaster preparedness for effective response as one of its main purposes and has already incorporated these measures into the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and other Agenda 2030 initiatives. UN Secretary-General António Guterres has said COVID-19 ‘poses a significant threat to the maintenance of international peace and security’ and that ‘a signal of unity and resolve from the Council would count for a lot at this anxious time’.

This pandemic looks set to continue to be a grave threat to humanity. But there will also be future pandemics – whether another type of coronavirus or a new influenza virus – and our species will be threatened again, we just don’t know when.

Other disasters too will befall us – we already see the impacts of climate change arriving on our doorsteps characterised by increased numbers and intensity of floods, hurricanes, fires, crop failure and other manifestations of a warming, increasingly turbulent atmosphere and we will continue to suffer major volcanic eruptions, earthquakes and tsunamis. All high impact, unknown probability events.

Preparedness for an unknown future is expensive and requires a great deal of effort for events that may not happen within the preparers’ lifetimes. It is hard to imagine now, but people will forget this crisis, and revert to their imagined projections of the future where crises don’t occur, and progress follows progress. But history shows us otherwise.

Preparations for future crises always fall prey to financial cuts and austerity measures in lean times unless there is a mechanism to prevent that. Cost-benefit analyses will understandably tend to prioritise the urgent over the long-term. So governments should put in place legislation – or strengthen existing legislation – now to ensure their countries are as prepared as possible for whatever crisis is coming.

Such a legal requirement would require governments to report back to parliament every year on the state of their national preparations detailing such measures as:

• The exact levels of stocks of essential materials (including medical equipment)
• The ability of hospitals to cope with large influx of patients
• How many drills, exercises and simulations had been organised – and their findings
• What was being done to implement lessons learned & improve preparedness

In addition, further actions should be taken:

• Parliamentary committees such as the UK Joint Committee on the National Security Strategy should scrutinise the government’s readiness for the potential threats outlined in the National Risk register for Civil Emergencies in-depth on an annual basis.
• Parliamentarians, including ministers, with responsibility for national security and resilience should participate in drills, table-top exercises and simulations to see for themselves the problems inherent with dealing with crises.
• All governments should have a minister (or equivalent) with the sole responsibility for national crisis preparedness and resilience. The Minister would be empowered to liaise internationally and coordinate local responses such as local resilience groups.
• There should be ring-fenced budget lines in annual budgets specifically for preparedness and resilience measures, annually reported on and assessed by parliaments as part of the due diligence process.

And at the international level:

• The UN Security Council should establish a Crisis Preparedness Committee to bolster the ability of United Nations Member States to respond to international crisis such as pandemics, within their borders and across regions. The Committee would function in a similar fashion as the Counter Terrorism Committee that was established following the 9/11 terrorist attacks in the United States.
• States should present reports on their level of preparedness to the UN Security Council. The Crisis Preparedness Committee could establish a group of experts who would conduct expert assessments of each member state’s risks and preparedness and facilitate technical assistance as required.
• Regional bodies such as the OSCE, ASEAN and ARF, the AU, the OAS, the PIF etc could also request national reports on crisis preparedness for discussion and cooperation at the regional level.

COVID-19 has been referred to as the 9/11 of crisis preparedness and response. Just as that shocking terrorist attack shifted the world and created a series of measures to address terrorism, we now recognise our security frameworks need far more emphasis on being prepared and being resilient. Whatever has been done in the past, it is clear that was nowhere near enough and that has to change.

The assassination of General Qassem Soleimani has created much speculation about the possible impact on oil markets and – although any impact will very much depend upon what happens next in terms of political and military responses – theoretically the potential exists for Iran to seriously destabilize oil markets, raising oil prices.

Arguably, it would be in Iran’s interest to do so. It would certainly hurt Trump’s possibility of a second term if higher prices were to last for some time as the 2020 presidential election gets underway. And it would also help shore up Iran’s failing economy. 

The assassination did initially cause oil prices to rise by a few dollars before quickly falling back, and the missile attacks by Iran produced a similar response. However, direct action by Iran to raise prices – for example by trying to close the Strait of Hormuz – is unlikely.

Around one-fifth of the world's oil supplies passes through the Strait of Hormuz, a narrow choke point between Iran and the Arabian Peninsula. Closing it would invite serious military action by the Americans and many of its allies who, so far, have been rather lukewarm over Trump’s actions. It would also possibly limit Iran’s own oil exports.

Similarly, overt attacks on American allies in the region such as Saudi Arabia and the UAE would probably invite too heavy a reaction, although this is uncertain given the lack of response after the alleged Iranian attacks on Abqaiq and Khurais in mid-September.

Indirect action by Iran to affect oil supplies is much more likely as they have many options by using their proxies to affect others’ oil production. This is especially true for Iraq, which is now an important source of global oil supply as Iraqi exports in 2019 averaged 3.53 million barrels per day (Mb/d), a significant amount.

Iraq’s future production has already been damaged as international oil companies are withdrawing staff for safety reasons, anticipating potential attacks by both Iraqi and Iranian sources. It is now very unlikely that the crucial ‘common seawater supply project’ being run by Exxon – essential for expanding production capacity – will go ahead in the near future.

However, one important consequence of the assassination that has attracted little attention is that it has almost fully restored the role of geopolitics into the determination of oil prices. Up to 2014, geopolitics played a key role in determining oil prices in the paper markets where perceptions and expectations ruled.

Prices determined in these markets – NYMEX in New York, ICE in London and other lesser futures markets throughout the world – then influence wet barrel markets where real barrels of oil are traded. 

In 2014, the world was so oversupplied with real oil barrels that the oil price collapsed – the price of Brent crude fell from $110.72 on 23 May to $46.44 eight months later. Thereafter, little if any attention was given to geopolitical events, and geopolitics became marginalized in the determination of crude oil prices.

This began to change in 2019. The market remained physically over-supplied but events in the Gulf began to attract attention. In June, there were a series of attacks on oil tankers close to the Gulf, followed by attacks on Saudi Arabia’s Abqaiq processing facility and the Khurais oil field in September.

The Americans claimed these attacks were launched by Iran, but no convincing evidence for the claim was provided. Both attacks produced an initial price response but it was surprisingly limited and short-lived. However, it did suggest that geopolitics might be creeping back into influencing oil prices.

This became ever more noticeable in the third and fourth quarters as rumours regarding the trade talks between China and US clearly began to affect price – talks going well meant higher oil demand, and prices rose; talks going badly meant lower oil demand, and prices fell.

Meanwhile, the oil market showed signs of tightening towards the end of 2019. Although there was much cheating on the OPEC+ agreement that was trying to restrain production and protect prices, the OPEC meeting last December saw both Iraq and Nigeria agreeing to restrain production. 

US stock levels also began to fall in December and the futures markets began to price in a tightening market towards the end of 2020. Significantly, the tighter the market appears, the greater attention is paid to the level of spare producing capacity.

Just before the attack on Abqaiq, the International Energy Agency (IEA) estimated there was 3.5 Mb/d spare capacity in OPEC which, historically, is quite comfortable. However, 2.5 of this was estimated to be in Saudi Arabia, so how much of this spare capacity still existed after the Abqaiq attack?

The Saudis claimed the Abqaiq capacity was quickly restored but technical experts greeted this with considerable skepticism, not least because the Abqaiq equipment was highly specialized. If spare capacity is tight, this makes the oil price vulnerable to geopolitical scares and rumours, real or imagined. 

Although the assassination of General Soleimani has exacerbated the sensitivity of oil markets to geopolitical events, this becomes irrelevant if a serious shooting war starts in the region. Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Iraq’s oil infrastructure remains highly vulnerable to attack either directly by Iran or one of its many proxies, suggesting oil prices will become increasingly volatile but, at the same time, benefit from a rising geopolitical premium.

The Syrian conflict has not only resulted in material losses but also in loss of familiar everyday life for Syrian people. Through their work, many Syrian artists have been trying to come to terms with the conflict and its impact on their memories, sense of self and the place they call home. 

Against this backdrop, Broken Dinners, Postponed Kisses provides an insight into the lived experience of artists affected by violence and upheaval in Syria. The film follows the lives of six Syrian artists as they narrate their journeys of loss, displacement and adaptation. Each story builds on the last providing an exploration of the expressive power of art in conflict. 
 
The screening will be followed by a Q&A discussion with Aleppo-born Syrian Armenian filmmaker, Nigol Bezjian. Led by al-Arabiya’s London Bureau Chief, Rima Maktabi, the discussion will place some of the themes raised by the film into a wider conversation surrounding the intersection of art and politics and the impact of war on the memories, lives and viewpoints of individuals.

COVID-19
This event is proceeding as scheduled, as are other Chatham House events, in accordance with the advice from the UK Government, Foreign and Commonwealth Office and Public Health England. However, we are closely monitoring the spread of COVID-19 and will send updates to attendees as the situation warrants. 
In the meantime, in line with the official advice for returning travellers or visitors to the UK from specified countries and areas (see guidance here), we ask that:

• If you have travelled from Category 1 countries/areas, you refrain from attending the event even if asymptomatic (i.e. even if you are showing no symptoms);
• If you have travelled from Category 2 countries/areas, you refrain from attending the event should you develop symptoms.

If you fall under one of these affected categories and have any questions, please call +44 (0)207 314 3638 or email lbedford@chathamhouse.org.

This event will be preceded by a drinks reception, taking place from 17:00.

This event is open to all Chatham House members as well as attendees of the 'The Struggle for the State in Syria' conference taking place the next day.

Water is a critical issue for Iraq’s future stability and prosperity. Only a few decades ago, the country was one of the most fertile in the region, with two major rivers flowing through it. Today, national and transboundary pollution, mismanagement, and debilitating cycles of conflict have contributed to a situation where only half of current water needs are being met, and where an 80% reduction in the flow of water down the Tigris and Euphrates rivers has led to the loss of millions of acres of formerly productive land and the displacement of rural communities.

Water scarcity can be a driver of violence and conflict. Tribal conflicts over water sources have erupted sporadically in the south and the contamination of municipal water which led to the hospitalization of some 118,000 citizens was a trigger for the large-scale protests in Basra in late 2018. Without concerted action by national and local governments, companies and international agencies, the situation will only worsen as higher temperatures and reduced rainfall drive rural-to-urban migration and increase the risk of drought, food insecurity and water-related diseases.

At this roundtable, part of the Chatham House Iraq Initiative, experts will discuss the domestic, regional and international factors that continue to exacerbate the water crisis in Iraq, and propose solutions, including technical innovation, public sector capacity-building and greater international cooperation, that might contribute to effective state-building, build resilience to the effects of climate change and reduce the risk of further conflict.

The event will be livestreamed on the MENA Programme Facebook page.

Climate and environmental issues have largely been marginalized in discussions about the Middle East and North Africa region and yet are critical to peace and security. In this webinar, experts will explore mounting pressures including those related to water (reduced, less reliable and more polluted sources), extreme temperatures, air pollution, land degradation and sea-level rise. Panelists will discuss the potential impact of worsening environmental conditions and what the region's governments can do to protect the health and livelihoods of their peoples.

This webinar is part of the Chatham House MENA Programme's Online Event Series and will be held on the record.

In Morocco, the COVID-19 pandemic has increased public trust in government, but people still have doubts about the effectiveness of the healthcare system. According to a recent study conducted by the Moroccan Institute for Policy Analysis (MIPA), the majority of Moroccans surveyed are generally satisfied with the measures taken by the government to battle the coronavirus. However, the same survey also shows that Moroccans do not have confidence in the healthcare sector’s ability to respond to this pandemic.

The positive perceptions of the government’s response can be explained by the swift and strict measures enacted. King Mohammed VI held a high-level meeting with the prime minister, the minister of health, and top security officials on 17 March and a few days later, on 20 March, the Moroccan government declared a state of health emergency and began to implement aggressive measures to contain the virus.

This has included closing airports, schools, mosques, cafés and shops – with the exception of food markets – preventing large gatherings, as well as strict guidelines to ensure social distancing. As of 2 April, nearly 5000 people have been arrested for violating the state of health emergency.

In order to address urgent medical needs and to mitigate the economic impact of the pandemic, the King ordered the creation of an emergency fund, raising more than 32.7 billion Moroccan Dirhams ($3.2 billion). The Ministry of Finance will begin to make cash transfers to vulnerable citizens, and especially those who have lost their jobs. However, the stipulations surrounding these cash transfers will be decided in the coming weeks.

Updates about the virus are communicated daily by the Ministry of Health, despite growing criticism of its communication strategy. As of 4 April, Moroccan authorities have confirmed 883 cases and 58 deaths.

Call for national unity

In times like these, there is a call for unity in the face of a national and global crisis, and opposition groups such as Adl wal Ihssan and Rif activists have expressed their support for government measures and have encouraged people to follow the new guidelines and restrictions. However, despite calls to release political prisoners, Moroccan authorities have not indicated that they will do so. This is a missed opportunity vis-à-vis the opposition because it could have served as a way to further strengthen national unity during the crisis.

These are all promising signs and point to what is likely to be a short-term burst in unity and institutional trust. However, the institutional weaknesses in governance and the healthcare system have not disappeared, which is why this increase in institutional trust should be taken with a grain of salt.

Public trust issues

This pandemic poses tremendous challenges for governments across the globe, and this holds especially true for states in the Middle East and North Africa region, where citizens do not approve of government performance and do not trust key state institutions. The 2019 Arab Barometer survey found that Moroccans do not trust most of the country’s political institutions (notably the parliament and the Council of Ministers) and the level of satisfaction with the government’s performance remains extremely low.

On the public health front, as shown in two of MIPA’s recent surveys, trust in the healthcare system is also very low. Around three-quarters of those surveyed do not trust Moroccan hospitals, highlighting the acute structural problems in the healthcare system. In fact, there is a stark divide between private and public healthcare, as well as a huge gap in access to healthcare facilities between urban and rural areas. Most of the country’s hospitals and doctors are located in major urban areas and the only three laboratories with capabilities for COVID-19 testing are located in Rabat and Casablanca, but even there, testing capacity is very limited.

Similar to other countries, there could be a major shortage of doctors and medical equipment throughout Morocco. So far, the Ministry of Finance has said that 2 billion dirhams of the emergency fund will go towards purchasing medical equipment such as beds, ventilators, tests, prevention kits and radiology equipment, but the timeline remains unclear.

A vulnerable economy

There is significant concern about the medium- and long-term economic impact of the virus. Two of the country’s key economic sectors have already been hit hard: agriculture and tourism. The agricultural sector was already struggling due to the impact of drought, while the coronavirus pandemic is likely to impact Morocco’s tourism industry not just this year, but well into 2021. In terms of government response, the emergency fund is a strong start, but questions surrounding the management of these funds have already been raised.

The most vulnerable parts of the population have been affected by the economic crisis because of the country’s bulging informal sector – in which most people work - and a very weak private sector. In fact, two-thirds of the workforce are not covered by a pension plan, almost half of the working population does not currently benefit from medical coverage and there is no social care system for vulnerable parts of the population. As of 1 April, more than 700,000 workers have lost their jobs.

Moving forward?

Even if public perceptions of the government’s response are positive at the moment, this is most likely a short-term surge that should not be taken for granted. Despite the efforts made by the government, Morocco’s health system is not equipped to handle this crisis. Even with the new measures that have been implemented, if the spread of the virus gets out of control, more funds, more doctors, and more equipment will be needed. Given the structural weaknesses of the healthcare system, this will be an uphill battle.

Moreover, even if the government manages to mitigate the public health impact, the economic consequences will be dire—especially in the tourism industry—and will severely hurt those workers in the informal sector who are living without a safety net. In Morocco, this category represents most of the working population.

This crisis highlights that the Moroccan government must urgently tackle its large portfolio of unfinished reforms, notably in healthcare, the economy, and labour rights. So far, the government is capitalizing on the spirit of unity, social solidarity and public support. The future trajectory of the pandemic and the effectiveness of governance will determine if this spirit of solidarity will last. If the government fails to effectively mitigate the public health and economic impacts of this pandemic, this solidarity and cooperation will not last long.

Historically, Iraq lay claim to one of the most abundant water supplies in the Middle East. But the flow of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers has reduced by up to 40% since the 1970s, due in part to the actions of neighbouring countries, in particular Turkey, upstream.

Rising temperatures and reduced rainfall due to climate change are also negatively impacting Iraq’s water reserves. Evaporation from dams and reservoirs is estimated to lose the country up to 8 billion cubic metres of water every year.

A threat to peace and stability

Shortages have dried up previously fertile land, increasing poverty in agricultural areas. Shortages have also served to fuel conflict: communities faced with successive droughts and government inertia proved to be easy targets for ISIS recruiters, who lured farmers into joining them by offering money and food to feed their families. Economic hardship for those whose livelihoods relied upon river water has also driven rural to urban migration, putting significant strain on already over-populated towns and cities, exacerbating housing, job and electricity shortages, and widening the gap between haves and have-nots.

But scarcity isn’t the most crucial element of Iraq’s water crisis – contamination is. Decades of local government mismanagement, corrupt practices and a lack of regulation of dumping (it is estimated up to 70% of Iraq’s industrial waste is dumped directly into water) has left approximately three in every five citizens without a reliable source of potable water.

In 2018, 118,000 residents of Basra province were hospitalised with symptoms brought on by drinking contaminated water, which not only put a spotlight on the inadequacies of a crumbling healthcare system but sparked mass protests and a subsequent violent crackdown.

The water crisis is also undermining the stability of the country’s federal governance model, by occasionally sparking disputes between Baghdad and the Kurdistan Regional Government, as well as between governorates in the south.

The crisis is both a symptom and a cause of poor governance. Iraq is stuck in a cycle whereby government inaction causes shortages and contamination, which result in economic losses, reduced food supply, increased prices and widespread poor health. This in turn leads to increasing levels of poverty, higher demand on services and civil unrest, increasing the pressure on a weak, dysfunctional system of government.

What can be done?

The first priority should be modernising existing water-management infrastructure - a relic of a time when the problem was an excess rather than a shortage of water (the last time Iraq’s flood defences were required was 1968). Bureaucratic hurdles, widespread corruption and an endless cycle of other crises taking precedent prevent good initiatives from being implemented or scaled up.

Diversifying energy sources to improve provision is crucial. Baghdad has a sewage treatment plant that originally ran on its own electricity source, but this capacity was destroyed in 1991 and was never replaced. The city continues to suffer from dangerous levels of water pollution because the electricity supply from the grid is insufficient to power the plant. Solar energy has great potential in sun-drenched Iraq to bridge the gaping hole in energy provision, but successive governments have chosen to focus on fossil fuels rather than promoting investment to grow the renewables sector.

Heightened tension with upstream Turkey could turn water into another cause of regional conflict. But, if approached differently, collaboration between Iraq and its neighbour could foster regional harmony.

Turkey’s elevated geography and cooler climate mean its water reserves suffer 75% less evaporation than Iraq’s. Given that Turkey’s top energy priority is the diversification of its supply of imported hydrocarbons, a win-win deal could see Turkey exchange access to its water-management infrastructure for delivery of reduced cost energy supplies from Iraq.

German-French cooperation on coal and steel in the 1950s and the evolution of economic integration that followed might provide a model for how bilateral cooperation over one issue could result in cooperation with other regional players (in this case Iran and Syria) on a range of other issues. This kind of model would need to consider the future of energy, whereby oil and gas would be replaced by solar-power exports.

These solutions have been open to policymakers for years and yet they have taken little tangible action. While there are leaders and bureaucrats with the will to act, effective action is invariably blocked by a complex and opaque political system replete with vested interests in maintaining power and wealth via a weak state and limited services from central government.

Breaking the cycle

To break this cycle, Iraq needs a group of professional and able actors outside of government to work with willing elements of the state bureaucracy as a taskforce to pressure for action and accountability. Publishing the recommendations from a hitherto withheld report produced in the aftermath of Basra’s 2018 heath crisis would be a great start.

In time, this taskforce could champion the prioritisation of water on the national agenda, the implementation of infrastructure upgrades, and hold more productive conversations with neighbour states.

With such a high degree of state fragmentation and dysfunction in Iraq, looking to the central government to provide leadership will not yield results. Engagement with a coalition of non-state actors can begin to address the water crisis and also open a dialogue around new models of governance for other critical issues. This might even be a starting point for rewriting the tattered social contract in Iraq.

This piece is based on insights and discussion at a roundtable event, Conflict and the Water Crisis in Iraq, held at Chatham House on March 9 as part of the Iraq Initiative.

In August 2012, when the UN released its report Gaza in 2020: A liveable place?, they could not have imagined what the world would look like in 2020: cities under lockdown, restrictions on movement, border closures, widespread unemployment, economic collapse, fear and anxiety and, above all, uncertainty about what the future holds.

For Gaza’s population of 2 million people this reality is nothing new. The conditions that the rest of the world are currently experiencing as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic is similar to the tight blockade Gaza has been living under ever since Hamas took over in 2007. Israel has imposed severe restrictions on the movement of people and goods, youth unemployment has reached 60 per cent, and over 80 per cent of Gaza’s population are now dependent on international aid.

The people of Gaza are having to face the COVID-19 crisis already at a disadvantage, with poor infrastructure, limited resources and a shortage of the most basic services, such as water and power supply. It also has a fragile health system, with hospitals lacking essential medical supplies and equipment, as well as the capacity to deal with the outbreak as there are only 84 ICU beds and ventilators available.

Meanwhile, intra-Palestinian divisions have persisted and were evident in the initial reaction to the pandemic. When President Mahmoud Abbas announced a state of emergency, it took two days for the Hamas-led government in Gaza to follow suit and shut down schools and universities. They later made a separate emergency appeal to address the crisis and prepare for a COVID-19 response in Gaza. This lack of coordination is typical of the way the Palestinian Authority and Hamas approach crisis situations.

After the initial uncoordinated response, Hamas, as the de-facto ruler of Gaza, has asserted its ability to control Gaza’s borders by putting in place quarantine measures for everyone who enters the strip, whether through the Erez checkpoint with Israel or the Rafah border with Egypt. They have also assigned 21 hospitals, hotels, and schools as compulsory quarantine centres for all arrivals from abroad, who have to stay in quarantine for 21 days. In comparison, there are 20 quarantine centres in the West Bank.  These strict measures have prevented the spread of the virus in the community and confined it to the quarantine centres, with only 20 confirmed cases of COVID-19 as of 6 May. Gaza’s de-facto authorities have also been able to monitor markets and prices to ensure the availability of essential goods.

Faced with a major crisis, Al-Qassam Brigades – the armed wing of Hamas – have tried to play the role of a national army by participating in efforts to fight the pandemic. They have relatively good logistical capacity and have contributed to the construction of two quarantine facilities with a total capacity of 1,000 units to prepare for more arrivals into Gaza. At the local level, municipalities have been disinfecting public spaces and facilities in addition to disseminating information about the virus and related preventative and protective measures. Other precautionary measures put in place include closing the weekly open markets, and restricting social gatherings like weddings and funerals.

Despite COVID-19, it’s business as usual when it comes to international dealings with Gaza. The key parties in the conflict – Israel, Hamas and the Palestinian Authority – along with the main external actors – Egypt, the United Nations and Qatar – have continued to stick to their policies aimed at keeping the security situation under control and preventing further escalation. Although Israel has allowed entry of pharmaceutical supplies and medical equipment into Gaza during the pandemic, it has kept its restrictions on the movement of goods and people in place, while keeping a close eye on the development of the COVID-19 outbreak in Gaza – a major outbreak here would be a nightmare scenario for Israel.

Meanwhile, Qatar has continued to address the humanitarian and economic needs of Gaza in an attempt to ease the pressure and prevent further escalation. It has pledged $150 million over the next six months to help families in Gaza from poorer backgrounds. Gaza has also been discussed by the Middle East Quartet, as Nickolay Mladenov, the UN special coordinator for the Middle East Peace Process, expressed his concern about the risk of a disease outbreak in Gaza during a call with the members of the Quartet.

Amid the pandemic, threats are still being exchanged between Israel and Hamas. The Israeli defence minister, Naftali Bennett, requested that in return for providing humanitarian aid to Gaza, Hamas agrees to return the remains of two Israeli soldiers killed in the 2014 war. While openly rejecting Bennett's statement, the leader of Hamas in Gaza, Yahya Sinwar, has offered to move forward with a prisoner swap deal if Israel agrees to release elderly prisoners and detainees in addition to detained women and children. Though dealing with its own COVID-19 outbreak, Egypt has started to mediate between the two parties in an attempt to stabilize the situation and reach a prisoner swap deal.

In the wake of this pandemic, lessons should be learned and policies should be examined, by all parties. Firstly, Israel should re-evaluate its security measures towards Gaza by easing restrictions on movement and trade which would have a positive impact on living conditions for Gaza’s population. The current measures have proven to be unsustainable and have contributed to the endless cycle of violence. Secondly, the intra-Palestinian division should end, to save Palestinians from contradictory policies and insufficient capacity on both sides. In fact, all previous attempts have failed to end this self-destructive division and this is due to the absence of political will on both sides. Elections seem to be the only viable path towards unity. Finally, efforts by the international community should go beyond stabilizing the security situation and ongoing crisis inside Gaza, where disruption of normal life is the norm.

While the world has reacted to this pandemic with a whole host of new policies and emergency measures, it has remained business as usual when dealing with Gaza. Should COVID-19 spread in Gaza, its people – who have already paid the price of a continuous blockade and intra-Palestinian division for 13 years – will pay a heavy price yet again. However, this time it is not a crisis that they alone will have to face.