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.

Marysia Zalewski's work has taught us, as a collective of feminist scholars, to be cautious of neat instruction manuals and coherently set out plans of action; of claims to sure knowledge about danger, violence, and its subjects and remedies; of the fanfare of grand arrivals; and of the quieter staking of ground that has been seemingly won. Zalewski has persistently reminded us in different ways that we/she does ‘not even know what gender is or does’. Far from a flippant response to the emptiness of gender mainstreaming policies, this seemingly simple statement instead serves as a glaring post-it note on the margins of our texts about International Relations theory, feminism, sex/gender and violence— both those that we read, as well as those that we write. However, this lesson is often forgotten in our rush to understand and establish gendered harms as valid and important, and to seek their redress. Gleaning insights from Zalewski's work, this article critically considers possible responses to the 2018 Nobel Peace Prize. Its aim is not to delve into a discussion of the politics or effects of the Peace Prize as such, but to instead use the 2018 Peace Prize as a marker—a moment to consider the possibility for critique in relation to sexual violence.

Violations against cultural property – such as archaeological treasures, artworks, museums or historical sites – can be no less detrimental to the survival of a nation than the physical persecution of its people. These assaults on heritage ensure the hegemony of some nations and distort the imprint of other nations in world history, sometimes to the point of eradication.

As contemporary armed conflicts in Syria, Ukraine and Yemen demonstrate, cultural property violations are not only a matter of the colonial past; they continue to be perpetrated, often in new, intricate ways.

Understandably, from a moral perspective, it is more often the suffering of persons, rather than any kind of ‘cultural’ destruction, that receives the most attention from humanitarian aid providers, the media or the courts. Indeed, the extent of the damage caused by an assault on cultural property is not always immediately evident, but the result can be a threat to the survival of a people. This is strikingly exemplified by what is currently happening in Crimea.

Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula has been occupied by Russia since February 2014, meaning that, under international law, the two states have been involved in an international armed conflict for the last six years.

While much attention has been paid to the alleged war crimes perpetrated by the occupying power, reports by international organizations and the International Criminal Court (ICC) have been less vocal on the issue of cultural property in Crimea. Where they do raise it, they tend to confine their findings to the issue of misappropriation.

However, as part of its larger policy of the annexation and Russification of the peninsula and its history, Russia has gone far beyond misappropriation.

Crimean artefacts have been transferred to Russia – without security justification or Ukrainian authorization as required by the international law of occupation – to be showcased at exhibitions celebrating Russia’s own cultural heritage. In 2016, the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow staged its record-breaking Aivazovsky exhibition, which included 38 artworks from the Aivazovsky Museum in the Crimean town of Feodosia.

Other ‘cultural’ violations in the region include numerous unsanctioned archaeological excavations, whose findings are often unlawfully exported to Russia or end up on the black market.

There is also the example of Russia’s plan to establish a museum of Christianity in Ukraine’s UNESCO World Heritage site, the Ancient City of Tauric Chersonese. This is an indication of Russia’s policy of asserting itself as a bastion of Orthodox Christianity and culture in the Slavic world, with Crimea as one of the centres.

The harmful effects of Russia’s destructive cultural property policy can be seen in the situation of the Crimean Tatars, Ukraine’s indigenous Muslim people. Already depleted by a Stalin-ordered deportation in 1944 and previously repressed by the Russian Empire, the Crimean Tatars are now facing the destruction of much of the remainder of their heritage.

For example, Muslim burial grounds have been demolished to build the Tavrida Highway, which leads to the newly built Kerch Bridge connecting the peninsula to Russia.

The destructive reconstruction of the 16th-century Bakhchysarai Palace – the only remaining complete architectural ensemble of the indigenous people, included in the UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List – is another example of how the very identity of the Crimean Tatars is being threatened. This reconstruction is being conducted by a team with no experience of cultural sites, in a manner that erodes its authenticity and historical value – which is precisely as Russia intends.

There is a solid body of international and domestic law covering Russia’s treatment of Crimea’s cultural property.

Under the 1954 Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict – ratified by both Ukraine and Russia – the occupying power must facilitate the safeguarding efforts of the national authorities in occupied territories. States parties must prevent any vandalism or misappropriation of cultural property, and, according to the first protocol of the convention, the occupying power is required to prevent any export of artefacts from the occupied territory.

The 1907 Hague Regulations and the 1949 Fourth Geneva Convention confirm that the authentic domestic legislation continues to apply in occupied territories. This leaves Russia with no excuse for non-compliance with Ukraine’s cultural property laws and imposing its own rules unless absolutely necessary.

Besides, both Ukrainian and Russian criminal codes penalise pillage in occupied territory, as well as unsanctioned archaeological excavations. As an occupying power, Russia must not just abstain from such wrongdoings in Crimea, but also duly investigate and prosecute the alleged misconduct.

The clarity of the international legal situation demonstrates that no exhibitions in continental Russia and no archaeological excavations which are not sanctioned by Ukraine can be justified. Likewise, any renovation or use of cultural sites, especially those on permanent or tentative UNESCO lists, must only be conducted pursuant to consultancy with and approval of the Ukrainian authorities.

But the resonance of the Crimean case goes beyond law and touches on issues of the very survival of a people. The Soviet deportation of the Crimean Tatars in 1944 did not only result in the deaths of individuals. Their footprints in Crimea have been gradually erased by baseless treason charges, the long exile of the indigenous community from their native lands and ongoing persecution.

First the Soviet Union and now Russia have targeted the Crimean Tatars’ cultural heritage to undermine their significance in the general historical narrative, making attempts to preserve or celebrate this culture seem futile. Russia is thus imposing its own historical and political hegemony at the expense of the Crimean Tatar and Ukrainian layers of Crimean history.

As exemplified by occupied Crimea, the manipulation and exploitation of cultural heritage can serve an occupying power’s wider policies of appropriating history and asserting its own dominance. Domestic cultural property proceedings are challenging due to the lack of access to the occupied territory, but they should still be pursued.

More effort is needed in the following areas: case prioritization; informing the documenters of alleged violations about the spectrum of cultural property crimes; developing domestic investigative and prosecutorial capacity, including by involving foreign expert consultancy; more proactively seeking bilateral and multilateral cooperation in art crime cases; liaising with auction houses (to track down objects originating from war-affected areas) and museums (to prevent the exhibition of the artefacts from occupied territories).

When possible, cultural property crimes should also be reported to the ICC.

Additionally, more international – public, policy, media and jurisprudential – attention to such violations is needed. Societies, courts and policymakers should have a clearer awareness that assaults against cultural heritage constitute a creeping encroachment on a people’s identity, endangering its very survival.

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.

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.

Case Study of Preparedness: South Korea By 2007, South Korea had established the Division of Public Health Crisis Response in Korea Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (KCDC) and, in 2016, the KCDC Center for Public Health Emergency Preparedness and Response had established a round-the-clock Emergency Operations Center with rapid response teams. KCDC is responsible for the distribution of antiviral stockpiles to 16 cities and provinces that are required by law to hold and manage antiviral stockpiles.

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’.

Case Study of Preparedness: United States The National Institutes of Health (NIH) and the Center for Disease Control (CDC) established PERRC – the Preparedness for Emergency Response Research Centers - as a requirement of the 2006 Pandemic and All-Hazards Preparedness Act, which required research to ‘improve federal, state, local, and tribal public health preparedness and response systems’. The 2006 Act has since been supplanted by the 2019 Pandemic and All-Hazards Preparedness and Advancing Innovation Act. This created the post of Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response (ASPR) in the Department for Health and Human Services (HHS) and authorised the development and acquisitions of medical countermeasures and a quadrennial National Health Security Strategy. The 2019 Act also set in place a number of measures including the requirement for the US government to re-evaluate several important metrics of the Public Health Emergency Preparedness cooperative agreement and the Hospital Preparedness Program, and a requirement for a report on the states of preparedness and response in US healthcare facilities.

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.

Case Study of Preparedness: The UK The National Risk Register was first published in 2008 as part of the undertakings laid out in the National Security Strategy (the UK also published the Biological Security Strategy in July 2018). Now entitled the National Risk Register for Civil Emergencies it has been updated regularly to analyse the risks of major emergencies that could affect the UK in the next five years and provide resilience advice and guidance. The latest edition - produced in 2017 when the UK had a Minister for Government Resilience and Efficiency - placed the risk of a pandemic influenza in the ‘highly likely and most severe’ category. It stood out from all the other identified risks, whereas an emerging disease (such as COVID-19) was identified as ‘highly likely but with moderate impact’. However, much preparatory work for an influenza pandemic is the same as for COVID-19, particularly in prepositioning large stocks of PPE, readiness within large hospitals, and the creation of new hospitals and facilities. One key issue is that the 2017 NHS Operating Framework for Managing the Response to Pandemic Influenza was dependent on pre-positioned ’just in case’ stockpiles of PPE. But as it became clear the PPE stocks were not adequate for the pandemic, it was reported that recommendations about the stockpile by NERVTAG (the New and Emerging Respiratory Virus Threats Advisory Group which advises the government on the threat posed by new and emerging respiratory viruses) had been subjected to an ‘economic assessment’ and decisions reversed on, for example, eye protection. The UK chief medical officer Dame Sally Davies, when speaking at the World Health Organization about Operation Cygnus – a 2016 three-day exercise on a flu pandemic in the UK – reportedly said the UK was not ready for a severe flu attack and ‘a lot of things need improving’. Aware of the significance of the situation, the UK Parliamentary Joint Committee on the National Security Strategy launched an inquiry in 2019 on ‘Biosecurity and human health: preparing for emerging infectious diseases and bioweapons’ which intended to coordinate a cross-government approach to biosecurity threats. But the inquiry had to postpone its oral hearings scheduled for late October 2019 and, because of the general election in December 2019, the committee was obliged to close the inquiry.

On Thursday, the US House of Representatives passed a resolution affirming its authority under the War Powers Resolution Act, and reminding the president, the American people and the world that when it comes to the use of military force, Congress must be taken into account. 

President Donald Trump replied by retweeting John Bolton, his former national security advisor, who tweeted that the War Powers Act was ‘unconstitutional’, effectively dismissing Congressional efforts to rein in the president.

This round of legal Twitter diplomacy came days after the president tweeted that ‘legal notice (to Congress) is not required, but it is given nevertheless’ and that ‘should Iran strike any US person or target, the United States will quickly and fully strike back, and perhaps in a disproportionate manner.’ 

President Trump’s overt attacks on Congressional authority and disregard for the law are not normal for a US president, but legal constraints over the president’s authority to use military force have been eroding for several years.

In 1973, Congress passed the War Powers Act, requiring the president to report to Congress and acquire Congressional approval for continued overseas troop deployments. But Congressional authority over the use of military force has continued to diminish, especially since the 9/11 attacks. 

Now, Congress is pushing back – a resolution similar to that passed by the House is likely to be voted on by the Senate soon. Given the intense frustration of some senators over the president’s handling of the current conflict, this resolution may pass, though the president is still likely to veto. 

The bigger problem, of which this is one part, is the expansion of executive authority, and it predates this presidency. Many argue that executive power is greatest on matters of foreign policy, and that in this domain the US president is unconstrained. As partisanship has increased and the demands on Congress have made it harder for its members to cultivate foreign policy expertise, the power of the president has grown.

So the fact that Congress is taking active steps to check the president’s power not only on the question of impeachment, but also on foreign policy, is significant, even if the law is not likely to restrain President Trump. But Congress is also playing a long game. And its growing determination to assert its authority matters not only for this presidency, but also for the future.

Political constraints

In the short term, other constraints matter more. Even if President Trump rejects legal restraints – and shuns diplomatic pressure that might have mattered to other presidents – he is not impervious to political restraint.

Already there are signs that Trump listens to his key Republican allies in Congress. When Senator Lindsay Graham pushed back against the president’s threat to attack cultural heritage sites in Iran, and the Pentagon failed to shore up the president’s threat, the president changed his position. The threats also provoked an overwhelming response in Europe, and across the Middle East, but the president has shown that he is willing to disregard international admonishment. Not so for domestic allies.

Nor is this the first time that Senator Graham’s views have mattered. When the president announced his decision to pull troops from northeast Syria, effectively abandoning the Kurds, a key partner to the US in its fight against ISIS, Senator Graham and Senator Mitch McConnell pushed back and it mattered. 

Public opinion also matters to the president, especially Republican public opinion, and this is likely to affect the president’s next steps. Recent polls suggest that Americans feel less safe as a result of the killing of General Qassem Soleimani by a considerable margin of 55% to 24%.

But the same survey also shows that a majority of Americans support the decision to kill Soleimani. Already Vice President Mike Pence has spoken at a rally in Ohio designed to bolster support for this Presidential action.  

So what might change public opinion and will this alter the president’s future steps?

Americans are very reluctant to support further deployments of troops overseas. President Trump knows this and he has consistently stated that he seeks to pull US troops out of the Middle East.

In fact, the opposite has happened. And once again, the decision to kill General Soleimani is pulling the US further into the Middle East and putting into stark light the inconsistency of Trump’s foreign policy ambitions. In recent days, the United States has committed to sending thousands of troops to the region.

Continued US troop deployments may not play well with Trump’s base, though they currently support his Iran policy. But absent an obvious justification, this could change, so it is not surprising that this has become a rallying point for Vice President Pence.

An even greater political risk, and one that will matter to the president, is the risk to US military personnel and civilians overseas. Public support for the killing of Soleimani and increased US presence in the region is bound to dissipate if Americans are killed.

But it isn’t clear how the president will respond, and already the death of one American in the militia attack on 27 December seems to have been a critical factor in Trump’s decision to authorize the assassination of General Soleimani.  

So far, Iran’s response appears to be calibrated to avoid this kind of public backlash, and keep the door open to some sort of managed resolution of the current crisis.

But the considerable risk of miscalculation and mistakes has already been born out. A week after the killing of Soleimani, the world is tuning in to the tragic news that a civilian airliner departing Iran for Ukraine appears to have been accidentally shot down by an Iranian missile, resulting in the deaths of all 176 people on board, including 82 Iranians and 63 Canadians.

Whether the US president is constrained is a critical question for Americans, for US democracy and for the rest of the world. Trump is different, but he is not unconstrained. Steps taken by Congress along with diplomatic and political pressure mean he is still operating within boundaries. But it is clear that these boundaries are being redefined.

Conventional wisdom says that foreign policy takes a backseat role in US elections. But last autumn’s Democratic primary debates suggest a potential shift is taking place in the conventional view. While healthcare dominated the discussion (Democrats attribute their 2018 midterm gains to the issue), through November foreign policy followed closely behind in second place in terms of minutes devoted to the discussion.

This trend is consistent with President Donald Trump’s America First approach to foreign policy, in which an eye is always kept on how decisions abroad play for the domestic audience. One former Trump administration official has called this dynamic the ‘recoupling’ of foreign policy with domestic policy.

The US–China trade conflict, which commanded headlines throughout 2019, is perhaps the best example of this recoupling, tying trade imbalances less with the geopolitical than with domestic impact on farmers. Immigration is another policy area in which Trump has linked domestic implications and indeed domestic opinion with foreign policy. It’s in the title: America First.

Now, for better or worse, the targeted killing of Qassem Soleimani, Iran’s response and the subsequent fallout may make US foreign policy towards Iran and the US role in the Middle East a central issue for the 2020 US elections. As it comes just ahead of the Democratic presidential primaries, voters will be looking to the candidates to differentiate their foreign policy experience and proposals for America’s Middle East policy.

To President Donald Trump, Soleimani’s assassination represents a campaign promise kept to confront Iran’s aggression.

The Trump administration initially justified the action by citing intelligence of an imminent threat to US personnel and targets, but after Defense Secretary Mark Esper called this into question, Trump tweeted that ‘it doesn’t really matter because of [Soleimani’s] horrible past’. Ultimately, Trump’s message, on the campaign trail and any general debate stage he agrees to be on, is that he has overseen a new national security strategy for Iran.

Soleimani’s removal from the Iranian calculus is just a part of this broader policy, which also includes neutralizing the Iranian government’s destabilizing influence in the Middle East, denying Iran and especially the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ access to funding for its malign activities, and rallying the international community against domestic human rights violations and unjust detentions.

To counter Trump, Democrats and democratic presidential candidates would be best-served by offering a simple argument that too links domestic interests and foreign policy: the killing of Soleimani and Trump’s national security strategy for Iran have not made the US or its interests safer.

Iran’s ballistic missile attack on US forces in Iraq, which Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei called a ‘slap in the face’ for the US, makes the risks to US assets and personnel abundantly clear. Even if Iran reverts entirely to covert, proxy efforts to counter US interests, the current US–Iran tensions remain unresolved and will likely continue to persist through the 2020 elections in November.

As a matter of the first order, Soleimani was replaced by his deputy Brigadier General Esmail Ghaani within a day of the former’s death, with Khamenei saying that the Quds Force will be ‘unchanged’.

At the second order, Iraq’s parliament voted in favour of a nonbinding resolution to rescind the invitation to US forces, which led Trump to threaten sanctions and demands for reimbursement. Whether US troops will ultimately leave Iraq (following a ‘mistaken’ report that the US was preparing to depart) remains to be seen, but the destabilization of the US military presence in Iraq fulfils a key Iranian objective.

In the interim, the US-led coalition in Iraq and Syria fighting ISIS announced that it would at least temporarily cease its counterterrorism efforts to instead fortify its outposts and prepare for Iranian retaliation, opening a wider door for the resurgence of the terror group.

By arguing that the US, its troops and interest have not been made safer by Trump’s Middle East policy – from withdrawing from the Iran nuclear deal to the imposition of a ‘maximum pressure campaign’ to Soleimani’s killing – Democrats will be able to point to every post-Soleimani US injury, death, regional terrorism attack, asset compromise, cyberattack and shipping disruption as evidence.

Democratic presidential candidates also ought to be explicit about how they plan to manage tensions with Iran – strategic, diplomatic and military – particularly their position on the future of the nuclear deal.

Iran has made clear that the path to de-escalation is through sanctions relief. Asserting leverage need not always involve taking away all of your counterparty’s options (‘maximum pressure’). It also involves knowing what your adversary wants (sanctions relief) and showing a willingness to offer it (especially where it means less to you) in exchange for something of greater worth (avoiding war/a non-nuclear Iran).

Clarity around future policy of a potential Democratic president may bring de-escalation forward in a way that Trump’s statement of Iran standing down are unlikely to do.

The Democratic Party’s struggle for its future policy direction is evident this election season. The primary results in Iowa and New Hampshire, narrow first- and second-place finishes for Senator Bernie Sanders (a progressive) and former South Bend mayor Pete Buttigieg (a moderate), were just two indicators. During Wednesday night’s debate in Las Vegas, the split became even more obvious.

The six candidates onstage clashed on ideology (socialism and capitalism, progressivism and centrism) as well as policy (healthcare, climate change, fossil fuels, criminal justice, China). Buttigieg made plain the stakes for Democrats, saying, 'We’ve got to wake up as a party.'

If a Democratic candidate is elected to be the United States’ 46th president on 3 November, it will be despite this unresolved intra-party struggle.

One lesson the Democratic Party has taken from the 2018 midterm elections is that running candidates across the ideological spectrum is a winning formula.

It is easy to see how they came to this conclusion following the 2016 presidential and 2018 Congressional election experiences. In 2016, the favoured candidate status of former secretary of state Hillary Clinton deterred other aspirants from entering the Democratic primary ahead of a general election she went on to lose to Republican Donald Trump. In 2018, progressive and moderate centrist candidates, both first-timers and incumbents, ran and Democrats retook leadership in the House of Representatives with a 235-seat majority.

But what if this conclusion was noise and not the signal?

The Democratic National Committee (DNC) set the rules for the 2020 election based on the theory that by allowing an inclusive field (more than two dozen candidates entered the presidential race) the campaign processes, including debates, caucuses and primaries, would ultimately identify the most robust, representative candidate to go up against Donald Trump. Perhaps, and somewhat ironically, the 2016 Republican primary process, which involved a wide field culled by Trump’s unexpected success, informed the DNC’s reforms. And while very nice as a hypothesis of Bayesian updating, what has unfolded instead is a scattershot four-way — at times even five-way — race.

In the midst of this party divide, whoever ends up being the Democratic nominee will likely not represent the views of some meaningful proportion of the Democratic base. While healthcare remains the top issue across the Democratic electorate, there are those (candidates and voters) who want a single-payer option for all without a private insurance option and those who want to expand healthcare access while maintaining private insurers. Likewise, on foreign policy, there are those who link US trade policy with protecting American workers and who would therefore continue to use tariffs as a key trade policy, as well as those critical of Trump’s reliance on tariffs.

Compare that with the current state of the Republican Party. Trump’s approval with Republicans is in the high 80s, sometimes even low 90s, and after all but one Republican senator voted to acquit him in the Senate impeachment trial, the party is undeniably Trump’s. A sure sign is the historic turnout for Trump in his essentially uncontested Iowa and New Hampshire primaries.

Their own divisions pose a number of risks, then, for Democrats heading into November’s general election. The first one relates to vulnerabilities arising out of the primary process itself. If the fractures emerging from Iowa and New Hampshire persist, the likelihood of a quick wrap-up of the Democratic primary by April reduces, and the possibility of a contested Democratic convention in July increases (even if from a low base). While exciting television and Twitter fodder, a lengthy primary positions Democrats to go into the fall facing questions of party disunity behind the eventual nominee.

Although complicated to demonstrate empirically, some work has been done to understand whether the protracted 2016 Democratic primary and Sanders’ slow support for Democratic nominee Clinton in 2016 played a part in her defeat and Trump’s electoral success. A delayed general election campaign for the eventual Democratic nominee in 2020 almost certainly advantages President Trump’s money machine, which reportedly has more than twice as much on hand as then-president Barack Obama had going into his 2012 re-election. Further, unlike 2016, which was an open-seat election for the presidency, in 2020 Trump will have a demonstrated incumbent advantage.

The Democratic Party’s succession battle also raises risks around general election turnout. If Sanders is the party’s nominee, Biden or Buttigieg’s constituency may not come out to vote for him. More worrisome for Democrats, if Sanders is the party’s nominee then centrist voters, including those representing the finance industry, may peel off and vote for Trump, who has overseen economic expansion and record unemployment rates following the 2017 tax overhaul and various deregulations.

Alternatively, if Biden, Buttigieg or former mayor Michael Bloomberg become the nominee, Sanders’ many loyal supporters are likely to feel their policy priorities are not represented. And if those voters stay home because the Democratic nominee is not promising a political revolution, evidence suggests that depressed turnout levels may favour Republicans.

A third political peril relates to the business of legislating after the election. If despite the potential pitfalls a Democratic candidate manoeuvres and manages to build a winning coalition on 3 November, they will face the reality of legislative politics, which over the last 10 years have been defined by policy gridlock. Obama managed to get Obamacare through both Democratic-majority congressional chambers, but presided over divided chambers for the remainder of his term. Similarly, Trump’s major legislative accomplishment — the 2017 tax overhaul — was a result of Republican control in both the House of Representatives and the Senate.

A Democratic president will have to make progress on his or her agenda given not only the typical Republican-Democrat divide in Congress, but also facing potential raw divisions within the Democratic Party itself. In such a scenario, a Democratic administration may be tempted to take an expansive view of the president’s authority as we have seen under Trump, including relying on executive actions (tariffs and sanctions) on foreign policy.

The Democratic National Convention in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, beginning 13 July, and the party platform crafted over those four days present an essential opportunity to resolve the party’s divisions before November. If left unchecked, the party might find that its ex ante strategy for the 2020 Democratic primary ends in Trump’s re-election.

This article was originally published in the Independent.

This event is part of the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum. We would like to take this opportunity to to thank founding partner AIG and supporting partners Clifford Chance LLP, Diageo plc and EY for their generous support of the forum. 

The COVID-19 epidemic has hit every aspect of American life. The upcoming November general elections will not be immune to the virus’ impact and may be scheduled to happen while the pandemic remains active, or has returned.

There is a danger the epidemic forces change to the way voting takes place this fall, amplifying risks around election security and voter suppression that ultimately undermine the integrity of the elections.

This is further highlighted by the US Supreme Court’s last-minute ruling along ideological lines to restrict an extension on the absentee voting period in the Wisconsin Democratic presidential primary despite the level of infections in the state, forcing voters into a trade-off between their health and their right to vote. The US could be thrown into a political crisis in addition to the health and economic crises it already faces.

Bipartisan sentiment

While France, Chile and Bolivia have already postponed elections in the wake of COVID-19, there is a bipartisan sentiment that the US elections should be held as scheduled on the Tuesday after the first Monday in November. This is enshrined not only in America’s sense of itself – having weathered elections during a civil war, a world war and heightened terrorist alert before – but also in its federal law since 1845.

Despite increasing appetite for federal elections to go ahead in November, there are serious vulnerabilities, which are already becoming visible as connections are drawn between mail-in voting and voter fraud, greater voter access and disadvantages for the Republican party, and city polling closures and Democratic voter suppression.

Concerns around voting access have gained the most attention. If voting in-person is untenable or risky (especially for vulnerable health populations), voters must have alternative means to cast ballots.

During negotiations for the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act, the Democratic caucus in the House of Representatives proposed $4 billion in state election grants and a nationally-mandated period for early voting and no-excuse absentee voting.

But the final CARES Act sidestepped the access question and stripped funding to $400 million for election security grants to ‘prevent, prepare for, and respond to coronavirus, domestically or internationally, for the 2020 Federal election cycle’. Without knowing exactly what is in store from a cyber-threat perspective, the actual cost for basic election security upgrades is estimated to be $2.1billion. And that is a pre-COVID-19 calculation.

With social-distanced voters likely to be getting more election information than ever from social media, information security is critical to prevent influence from untrustworthy sources. And opportunities for cyber intrusions are likely to increase as states transition to greater virtual registration, plus absentee and mail-in balloting.

This will open new doors on well-documented, existing voter suppression efforts. With the Supreme Court clawing back the Voting Rights Act in 2013 - allowing certain states to make changes to election and voting laws without federal pre-clearance - heightened election security requirements, such as exact match campaigns and voter purges, have been used to justify voter suppression.

As more vote remotely in the remaining primaries (many now rescheduled for 2 June) and the November general elections, the added burden on states around verification will only increase temptation to set aside ‘non-compliant’ ballots. Especially as some in the Republican Party, including Donald Trump, have advocated a contested view that higher turnout favours the Democratic Party.

A fundamental principle of US democracy is that losers of elections respect the result, but history shows that election results have been contested. In 2000, it took weeks for a result to be confirmed in the presidential election. More recently, in the 2018 race for governor in Georgia, allegations of voter suppression raised questions about the validity of the eventual result.

Without proper access, security, and verification the electoral process – whenever it takes place – will become vulnerable to questions of integrity. The federal response to the initial spread of COVID-19 saw costly delays which pushed the US into a public health crisis and economic contraction.

Any narrative thread of election illegitimacy with November’s elections will further pull apart the fabric of a country already frayed by coronavirus. Federal and state authorities must start planning now for how the US will hold elections in the midst - or immediate aftermath - of COVID-19.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carbon capture and storage (CCS) has risen up the political agenda both nationally and internationally as a part of the effort to reduce CO2 emissions in power generation yet the applications, potential and impacts of this technology remain contested.

Is CCS - employed to produce low-carbon electricity and hydrogen - the panacea we urgently need to limit cumulative CO2 emissions to a level at which we stand a chance of avoiding dangerous climate change (and possibly also a renaissance in global nuclear fission)? Or does it shift the emphasis away from switching to more a sustainable renewable energy infrastructure that could avoid the use of fossil fuels and nuclear altogether?

In this meeting two leading voices in the debate give their opinions, separating the known from the unknown and kick starting an informed discussion about the pros, cons and politics of CCS.

Please note that attendance is by invitation only and there is a maximum of 25 places. 

This meeting is part of the Chatham House Fossil Fuels Expert Roundtable.

African countries will be amongst the worst affected by climate change. High levels of poverty and underdevelopment combined with insufficient infrastructure exacerbate the already severe impact of global warming on resources, development and human security. In order to adapt to and mitigate the effects of climate change, Africa’s leaders need to implement more robust environmental policies, increase local human capacity and encourage renewable energy entrepreneurship. Within international fora, they must better coordinate their position as some of the smallest contributors to global warming.

Ahead of the upcoming UN conference on climate change in Paris, this discussion will examine the prospects for African countries to present a stronger collective voice within the international efforts against climate change, as well as the role that the international community and public and private partners can play in supporting local capacity and lower carbon economic growth.