Three years ago, as the UK was holding its referendum on Brexit, the EU was rolling out its Global Strategy for a more cohesive and effective security and defence policy. Since then, EU member states have set impressive goals and, as significantly, taken important practical steps to make an EU defence capability a tangible proposition, despite differing collective defence commitments, traditions of neutrality among some member states and very different strategic cultures.

All of these developments have taken place with the UK as reluctant observer. The UK has been traditionally hostile to a deepening of defence collaboration within the EU (and consistent of the view that Europe’s military security was best provided through NATO). But the Brexit referendum vote has placed the UK as a bystander as EU security and defence initiatives have been pursued which have overridden the past red lines of British governments.

There is, however, a Brexit-related paradox in all these developments.

A central goal of the security and defence-related aspects of the EU Global Strategy is for the EU to have the capacity to act independently of the United States and, through indigenous defence industries, the ability to produce the means to make that possible.

With the UK outside the EU, and its opposition absent, it is easier to create a political consensus to push for more defence integration. But without the UK there are diminished collective defence capabilities which would make European strategic autonomy much harder to achieve.  

The May government has been an enthusiast for preserving close security and defence cooperation with the EU. The Withdrawal Agreement and the Political Declaration both seek to provide for a close EU–UK relationship post-Brexit.

However, the Article 50 negotiations have made clear that the EU’s institutions are hostile to special treatment for the UK beyond that normally accorded to a third country. Disagreements over the terms of the UK’s continuing participation in the Gailleo dual-use satellite system, which has a significant security and defence utility, have signalled that there is a strong lobby in Brussels and some national capitals seeking to significantly circumscribe collaboration with Britain.

The scale and capabilities of the UK’s military, its defence expenditure (notably on defence research and development) and its defence industrial base make any British decoupling from the EU’s security and defence a major issue. Disconnecting the UK from EU developments entirely would be a costly political choice for both sides.

And excluding the UK from new initiatives in defence R&D and new defence procurement arrangements would be suboptimal in delivering a stronger European defence, technological and industrial base. Duplicating existing UK capabilities, especially strategic enablers such as strategic airlift, target acquisition and intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance capabilities, would be an unnecessary squandering of already hard-pressed European defence budgets.

At present the common procurement and defence industry plans driven by the EU Global Strategy are embryonic. And significant defence capability decisions are taking place detached from the EU’s plans, which could reinforce a divide between the UK and other member states.

As illustrative, the formal agreement this week between France, Germany and Spain on the Future Combat Air System (FCAS) to develop a next-generation stealth fighter is competing with the UK-supported Tempest project that shares the same objective. The 20-year timescales for the delivery of the FCAS and Tempest projects are a reminder that defence procurement decisions are of multi-decade significance.

As the EU’s ambitions are nascent, it is too early to fully assess what might be the impact of any decision by the EU and the UK to keep each other at an arms-length in security and defence cooperation. With a more detached relationship, the UK will have significant concerns if it sees the EU’s common procurement arrangements develop in a manner that actively discriminates against the UK defence industry.

Outside of procurement and defence issues there may be other areas of future concern for the UK – for example, the extent to which the EU might deepen and broaden cooperation with NATO in a manner that makes the collective influence of EU member states within NATO more apparent, or to which the footprint of future EU conflict and security activities in third countries starts to overshadow the activities of the UK.

As the UK has been grappling with Brexit domestically, the EU has been evolving its security and defence policy ambitions. These are developments that will impact on the UK and in which, therefore, it has a stake but as a departing member state it has a weakening ability to shape.

Any aspect of future EU–UK cooperation is hostage to the vagaries of how the Brexit endgame concludes.

As tensions escalate in the Middle East, US President Donald Trump has threatened to strike targets in Iran should they seek to retaliate over the killing of Qassem Soleimani. According to the president’s tweet, these sites includes those that are ‘important to Iran and Iranian culture’.

Defense Secretary Mark Esper was quick on Monday to rule out any such action and acknowledged that the US would ‘follow the laws of armed conflict’. But Trump has not since commented further on the matter.

Any move to target Iranian cultural heritage could constitute a breach of the international laws protecting cultural property. Attacks on cultural sites are deemed unlawful under two United Nations conventions; the 1954 Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property during Armed Conflict, and the 1972 UNESCO World Heritage Convention for the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage.

These have established deliberate attacks on cultural heritage (when not militarily necessary) as a war crime under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court in recognition of the irreparable damage that the loss of cultural heritage can have locally, regionally and globally.

These conventions were established in the aftermath of the Second World War, in reaction to the legacy of the massive destruction of cultural property that took place, including the intense bombing of cities, and systematic plunder of artworks across Europe. The conventions recognize that damage to the cultural property of any people means ‘damage to the cultural heritage of all mankind’. The intention of these is to establish a new norm whereby protecting culture and history – that includes cultural and historical property – is as important as safeguarding people.

Such historical sites are important not simply as a matter of buildings and statues, but rather for their symbolic significance in a people’s history and identity. Destroying cultural artefacts is a direct attack on the identity of the population that values them, erasing their memories and historical legacy. Following the heavy bombing of Dresden during the Second World War, one resident summed up the psychological impact of such destruction in observing that ‘you expect people to die, but you don’t expect the buildings to die’.

Targeting sites of cultural significance isn’t just an act of intimidation during conflict. It can also have a lasting effect far beyond the cessation of violence, hampering post-conflict reconciliation and reconstruction, where ruins or the absence of previously significant cultural monuments act as a lasting physical reminder of hostilities.

For example, during the Bosnian War in the 1990s, the Old Bridge in Mostar represented a symbol of centuries of shared cultural heritage and peaceful co-existence between the Serbian and Croat communities. The bridge’s destruction in 1993 at the height of the civil war and the temporary cable bridge which took its place acted as a lasting reminder of the bitter hostilities, prompting its reconstruction a decade later as a mark of the reunification of the ethnically divided town.

More recently, the destruction of cultural property has been a feature of terrorist organizations, such as the Taliban’s demolition of the 1,700-year-old Buddhas of Bamiyan in 2001, eliciting international condemnation. Similarly, in Iraq in 2014 following ISIS’s seizure of the city of Mosul, the terrorist group set about systematically destroying a number of cultural sites, including the Great Mosque of al-Nuri with its leaning minaret, which had stood since 1172. And in Syria, the ancient city of Palmyra was destroyed by ISIS in 2015, who attacked its archaeological sites with bulldozers and explosives.

Such violations go beyond destruction: they include the looting of archaeological sites and trafficking of cultural objects, which are used to finance terrorist activities, which are also prohibited under the 1954 Hague Convention.

As a war crime, the destruction of cultural property has been successfully prosecuted in the International Criminal Court, which sentenced Ahmad Al-Faqi Al-Mahdi to nine years in jail in 2016 for his part in the destruction of the Timbuktu mausoleums in Mali. Mahdi led members of Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb to destroy mausoleums and monuments of cultural and religious importance in Timbuktu, irreversibly erasing what the chief prosecutor described as ‘the embodiment of Malian history captured in tangible form from an era long gone’.

Targeting cultural property is prohibited under customary international humanitarian law, not only by the Hague Convention. But the Convention sets out detailed regulations for protection of such property, and it has taken some states a lot of time to provide for these.

Although the UK was an original signatory to the 1954 Hague Convention, it did not ratify it until 2017, introducing into law the Cultural Property (Armed Conflicts) Act 2017, and setting up the Cultural Protection Fund to safeguard heritage of international importance threatened by conflict in countries across the Middle East and North Africa.

Ostensibly, the UK’s delay in ratifying the convention lay in concerns over the definition of key terms and adequate criminal sanctions, which were addressed in the Second Protocol in 1999. However, changing social attitudes towards the plunder of antiquities, and an alarming increase in the use of cultural destruction as a weapon of war by extremist groups to eliminate cultures that do not align with their own ideology, eventually compelled the UK to act.

In the US, it is notoriously difficult to get the necessary majority for the approval of any treaty in the Senate; for the Hague Convention, approval was achieved in 2008, following which the US ratified the Convention in 2009.

Destroying the buildings and monuments which form the common heritage of humanity is to wipe out the physical record of who we are. People are people within a place, and they draw meaning about who they are from their surroundings. Religious buildings, historical sites, works of art, monuments and historic artefacts all tell the story of who we are and how we got here. We have a responsibility to protect them.

As Iraq emerges from the shadow of war and occupation, it has sought to regain influence as a major actor in an ever-more volatile region. Though the 'new Iraq' attempts to project an independent foreign policy, renewed instability and violence inside the country has challenged the state's ability to develop a coherent and unified foreign policy stance.

Jane Kinninmont and Gareth Stansfield will present the findings of their new report which explores how foreign policy in Iraq today is developed and implemented, and analyses the extent to which Iraq's foreign policy aims are identifiable, independent and national in nature. They will also engage in a wider discussion with an expert panel on Iraqi foreign policy, particularly towards the conflict in Syria and how issues in neighbouring states are intertwined with domestic Iraqi politics.

This report aims to shed light on the key actors, processes and narratives that are shaping Iraq's foreign policy behaviour and options, at a time when the country is seeking to emerge from international sanctions and resume a more normal role in international affairs.

• Iraq's foreign relations are increasingly intertwined with the country's own divisions, and the increasing polarization of key Middle Eastern countries over Syria threatens to escalate Iraq's internal crisis.
   
• Syria has become the most divisive foreign policy issue facing Iraq, with little consensus on how to respond to the conflict. To protect against the risk of spillover from Syria, Iraq's political groupings must develop at least a basic agreement on their strategic response to the conflict.
   
• Western governments should caution their allies in the Gulf that the exploitation of sectarian discourses will have toxic effects that could last for at least a generation.