It is nearly 30 years since Rudiger Dornbusch and Sebastian Edwards published a seminal book, The Macroeconomics of Populism. Their conclusion back then was that the economic policies of populist leaders were quintessentially irresponsible. These governments, blinded by an aim to address perceived social injustices, specialised in profligacy, unbothered by budget constraints or whether they might run out of foreign exchange.

Because of this disregard for basic economic logic, their policy experiments inevitably ended badly, with some combination of inflation, capital flight, recession and default. Salvador Allende’s Chile in the 1970s, or Alan García’s Peru in the 1980s, capture this story perfectly.

These days, the macroeconomics of populism looks different. Of course there are populist leaders out there whose policies follow, more or less, the playbook of the 1970s and 1980s. Donald Trump may prove to be one of those, with a late-cycle fiscal expansion that seemed to have no basis in economic reasoning; Recep Tayyip Erdogan, by some accounts, may be another.

But a much more interesting phenomenon is the apparent surge in populist leaders whose economic policies are remarkably disciplined.

Take Mexico’s president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador. When it comes to fiscal policy, it is odd indeed that this fiery critic of neoliberalism seems fully committed to austerity. His budget for 2019 targets a surplus before interest payments of 1 per cent of GDP, and on current plans he intends to increase that surplus next year to 1.3 per cent of GDP. He has upheld the autonomy of the central bank and, so far at least, his overall macroeconomic framework is anything but revolutionary.

Hungary’s prime minister Viktor Orban offers another example of conservative populism. Under his watch, budget deficits have been considerably lower than they had been previously, helping to push the stock of public debt down from 74 per cent of GDP in 2010, the year Orban took over, to 68 per cent last year.

This emphasis on the virtues of fiscal prudence is also visible in Poland, where Jaroslaw Kaczynski’s PiS has managed public finances with sufficient discipline in the past few years to push the debt/GDP ratio below 50 per cent last year, the first time this has happened since 2009.

The obvious question is: what has changed in the decades since Dornbusch and Edwards went into print?

One answer is that today’s populists tend to strive for national self-reliance, which encourages them to avoid building up any dependence on foreign capital. And since that goal is achieved by keeping a tight rein on macro policy, fiscal indiscipline is avoided in order to limit vulnerability to foreign influences.

Perhaps this is because the 'them', or the perceived enemy, for many of today’s populists tends to be outside the country rather than inside. Broadly speaking, it is the forces of globalisation — and global capital in particular — that are the problem for these leaders, and self-reliance is the only way to keep those forces at arm’s length. This helps to explain why, for example, Orban has been so keen to repay debt to Hungary’s external creditors. He has relied instead on selling bonds to Hungarian households to finance his deficits, even though the interest rates on those bonds are much higher than he would pay to foreign creditors. It also helps explain why the PiS in Poland has presided over a decline in foreign holdings of its domestic bonds. Foreign investors owned 40 per cent of Poland’s domestic government debt back in 2015, but only 26 per cent now.

In other words, among many of today’s populists there is a blurring of the distinction between populism and nationalism. And the nationalistic urge to keep the rest of the world off your back seems to dominate the populist urge to spend money. The perfect example of that instinct is Vladimir Putin: not necessarily a populist, but his administration has been emphatic about the need to keep public spending low and to build solid financial buffers. National self-reliance is an economic obsession for the Russian government, and provides a model for other countries who wish to insulate themselves from international finance.

One of the reasons why the macroeconomics of populism have changed in this way is the historical legacy of economic disaster. If you are a populist leader in a country where financial crisis is part of living memory — as it is in Mexico, Hungary and Russia, say — you might do well to err on the side of conservatism for fear of repeating the mistakes of your predecessors.

But another reason why populism looks different for countries like Poland, Hungary, Mexico and Russia has to do with mere luck. Hungary and Poland, in particular, enjoy the luck of geography: having been absorbed into the EU, they have received financial transfers from Brussels averaging some 3-4 per cent of GDP in the past few years, so that populism in these countries has been solidly underpinned by the terms of their EU membership. López Obrador is enjoying the inheritance of his predecessor’s sound macro policy, together with a buoyant US economy and low US interest rates. Russia has had the good fortune of oil exports to rely on.

The thing about luck is that it can run out. So maybe it’s not quite time yet to bury the old macroeconomics of populism. But for the time being, it seems true to say that many of today’s populists have an unexpectedly robust sense of economic discipline.

This article was originally published in the Financial Times.

The renminbi seems to be back in business as a Chinese tool of retaliation against US tariffs. A 1.5 per cent fall in the currency early this month in response to proposed new US tariffs was only a start. Since the middle of August the renminbi has weakened further, and the exchange rate is now 4 per cent weaker than at the start of the month. We may well see more of a ‘weaponized’ renminbi, but there are four good reasons why Beijing might be wise to think before shooting.

The first has to do with how China seeks to promote its place in the world. China has been at pains to manage the collapse of its relations with the US in a way that allows it to present itself as an alternative pillar of global order, and as a source of stability in the international system, not to mention moral authority. This has deep roots.

Anyone investigating the history of Chinese statecraft will quickly come across an enduring distinction in Chinese thought: between wang dao, the kingly, or righteous way, and ba dao, the way of the hegemon. Since Chinese thinkers and officials routinely describe US behaviour since the Second World War as hegemonic, it behoves Chinese policymakers to do as much as possible to stay on moral high-ground in their behaviour towards Washington. Only in that way would President Xi be able properly to assert China’s claim to leadership.

Indeed, China has a notable track record of using exchange rate stability to enhance its reputation as a force for global stability. Both in the aftermath of the Asian crisis in 1997, and of the Global Financial Crisis in 2008, Chinese exchange rate stability was offered as a way of demonstrating China’s trustworthiness and its commitment to multilateral order.

Devaluing the renminbi in a meaningful way now might have a different rationale, but the cost to China’s claim to virtue, and its bid to offer itself as a guardian of global stability, might be considerable.

That’s particularly true because of the second problem China has in thinking about a weaker renminbi: it may not be all that effective in sustaining Chinese trade. One reason for this is the increasing co-movement with the renminbi of currencies in countries with whom China competes.

As the renminbi changes against the dollar, so do the Taiwan dollar, the Korean won, the Singapore dollar and the Indian rupee. In addition, the short-run impact of a weaker renminbi is more likely to curb imports than to expand exports, and so its effects might be contractionary. 

An ineffective devaluation of the renminbi would be particularly useless because of the third risk China needs to consider, namely the risk of retaliation by the US administration. Of this there is already plenty of evidence, of course.

The US Treasury’s declaration of China as a ‘currency manipulator’ on 5 August bears little relationship to the actual formal criteria that the Treasury uses to define that term, but equally the US had warned the Chinese back in May that these criteria don’t bind its hand. By abandoning a rules-based approach to the definition of currency manipulation, the US has opened wide the door to further antagonism, and Beijing should have no doubt that Washington will walk through that door if it wants to.

The fourth, and possibly most self-destructive, risk that China has to consider is that a weaker renminbi might destabilize China’s capital account, fuelling capital outflows that would leave China’s policymakers feeling very uncomfortable.

Indeed, there is already evidence that Chinese residents feel less confident that the renminbi is a reliable store of value, now that there is no longer a sense that the currency is destined to appreciate against the dollar. The best illustration of this comes from the ‘errors and omissions’, or unaccounted-for outflows, in China’s balance of payments.

The past few years have seen these outflows rise a lot, averaging some $200 billion per year during the past four calendar years, or almost 2 per cent GDP; and around $90 billion in the first three months of 2019 alone. These are scarily large numbers.

The risk here is that Chinese expectations about the renminbi are ‘adaptive’: the more the exchange rate weakens, the more Chinese residents expect it to weaken, and so the demand for dollars goes up. In principle, the only way to deal with this risk would be for the People's Bank of China (PBOC) to implement a large, one-off devaluation of the renminbi to a level at which dollars are expensive enough that no one wants to buy them anymore.

This would be very dangerous, though: it presupposes that the PBOC could know in advance the ‘equilibrium’ value of the renminbi. It would take an unusually brave central banker to claim such foresight, especially since that equilibrium value could itself be altered by the mere fact of such a dramatic change in policy.

No one really knows precisely by what mechanism capital outflows from China have accelerated in recent years, but a very good candidate is tourism. The expenditure of outbound Chinese tourists abroad has risen a lot in recent years, and that increase very closely mirrors the rise in ‘errors and omissions’. So the suspicion must be that the increasing flow of Chinese tourists – nearly one half of whom last year simply travelled to capital-controls-free Hong Kong and Macao – is just creating opportunities for unrecorded capital flight.

This raises a disturbing possibility: that the most effective way for China to devalue the renminbi without the backfire of capital outflows would be simultaneously to stem the outflow of Chinese tourists. China has form in this regard, albeit for differing reasons: this month it suspended a programme that allowed individual tourists from 47 Chinese cities to travel to Taiwan.

A more global restriction on Chinese tourism might make a devaluation of the renminbi ‘safer’, and it would have the collateral benefit of helping to increase China’s current account surplus, the evaporation of which in recent years owes a lot to rising tourism expenditure and which is almost certainly a source of unhappiness in Beijing, where mercantilism remains popular.

But a world where China could impose such draconian measures would be one where nationalism has reached heights we haven’t yet seen. Let’s hope we don’t go there.

This article was originally published in the Financial Times.

There are two well-established ideas in trade. Individually, they are correct. Combined, they can lead to a conclusion that is unfortunately wrong.

The first idea is that, across a range of economic sectors, the EU and the US have been engaged in a battle to have their model of regulation accepted as the global one, and that the EU is generally winning.

The second is that governments can use their regulatory power to extend strategic and foreign policy influence.

The conclusion would seem to be that the EU, which has for decades tried to develop a foreign policy, should be able to use its superpower status in regulation and trade to project its interests and its values abroad.

That’s the theory. It’s a proposition much welcomed by EU policymakers, who know they are highly unlikely any time soon to acquire any of the tools usually required to run an effective foreign policy.

The EU doesn’t have an army it can send into a shooting war, enough military or political aid to prop up or dispense of governments abroad, or a centralized intelligence service. Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has declared her outfit to be a ‘geopolitical commission’, and is casting about for any means of making that real.

Through the ‘Brussels effect’ whereby European rules and standards are exported via both companies and governments, the EU has indeed won many regulatory battles with the US.

Its cars, chemicals and product safety regulations are more widely adopted round the world than their American counterparts. In the absence of any coherent US offering, bar some varied state-level systems, the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) is the closest thing the world has to a single model for data privacy, and variants of it are being adopted by dozens of countries.

The problem is this. Those parts of global economic governance where the US is dominant – particularly the dollar payments system – are highly conducive to projecting US power abroad. The extraterritorial reach of secondary sanctions, plus the widespread reliance of banks and companies worldwide on dollar funding – and hence the American financial system – means that the US can precisely target its influence.

The EU can enforce trade sanctions, but not in such a powerful and discriminatory way, and it will always be outgunned by the US. Donald Trump could in effect force European companies to join in his sanctions on Iran when he pulled out of the nuclear deal, despite EU legislation designed to prevent their businesses being bullied. He can go after the chief financial officer of Huawei for allegedly breaching those sanctions.

By contrast, the widespread adoption of GDPR or data protection regimes inspired by it may give the EU a warm glow of satisfaction, but it cannot be turned into a geopolitical tool in the same way.

Nor, necessarily, does it particularly benefit the EU economy. Europe’s undersized tech sector seems unlikely to unduly benefit from the fact that data protection rules were written in the EU. Indeed, one common criticism of the regulations is that they entrench the power of incumbent tech giants like Google.

There is a similar pattern at work in the adoption of new technologies such as artificial intelligence and the Internet of Things. In that field, the EU and its member states are also facing determined competition from China, which has been pushing its technologies and standards through forums such as the International Telecommunication Union.

The EU has been attempting to write international rules for the use of AI which it hopes to be widely adopted. But again, these are a constraint on the use of new technologies largely developed by others, not the control of innovation.

By contrast, China has created a vast domestic market in technologies like facial recognition and unleashed its own companies on it. The resulting surveillance kit can then be marketed to emerging market governments as part of China’s enduring foreign policy campaign to build up supporters in the developing world.

If it genuinely wants to turn its economic power into geopolitical influence – and it’s not entirely clear what it would do with it if it did – the EU needs to recognize that not all forms of regulatory and trading dominance are the same.

Providing public goods to the world economy is all very well. But unless they are so particular in nature that they project uniquely European values and interests, that makes the EU a supplier of useful plumbing but not a global architect of power.

On the other hand, it could content itself with its position for the moment. It could recognize that not until enough hard power – guns, intelligence, money – is transferred from the member states to the centre, or until the member states start acting collectively, will the EU genuinely become a geopolitical force. Speaking loudly and carrying a stick of foam rubber is rarely a way to gain credibility in international relations.

This article is part of a series of publications and roundtable discussions in the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum.

What is quantitative easing? How was it used after the 2008 financial crisis?

Quantitative easing (QE) has been in existence since the Japanese central bank introduced it at the turn of the millennium. The simplest way to think about it is this: when interest rates can't go down anymore and play their normal role of stimulating growth, central banks try to expand the money supply. So, they're expanding the quantitative amount of money they put into the system. 

Of course, after 2008 because of the scale of the financial and economic collapse, many Western countries resorted to QE. Some have never gotten rid of it. Others have started to, but as a result of this crisis, have gone straight back to that playbook.

33 million Americans have now filed for unemployment and one in five American workers have lost their jobs due to COVID-19. These are levels not seen since the Great Depression. You recently called for G20 countries to provide income support for all citizens. Why is this so urgent to implement now?

It is incredible to reflect back on the short time since I published that piece. I entitled it the need for a so-called people's QE, and in some ways a number of European countries, including the UK, have executed some aspects of what I was suggesting. 

The United States has not, even though the absolute amounts of money the US authorities have put through their fiscal system to try and support the economy is actually bigger as a percentage of GDP than many in Europe. 

What they haven't done is support ongoing employment through various schemes that many European countries have done, of which the UK has, to some degree, been one of the most ambitious.

That’s partly why you see such enormous filing for unemployment claims in the US. There’s no direct support to encourage employers to keep their employees on, in complete contrast to what you see in many Scandinavian countries who were the first to do it in Europe, and something the UK has since done. 

On a practical level, what might a smart people’s QE look like? 

We are living in an extraordinary time. Like many others in my generation, it’s nothing that any of us have gone through. Perhaps economically, the only parallel one can find is from the 1920s and 1930s.

It became obvious to me in early March that governments are going to have to essentially force as many of us as possible, if we weren't doing absolutely crucial necessities, to stop working or to work from home. It was pretty obvious that the consequences could be horrific. 

So, the idea of a people's QE that I suggested then, some would have regarded as quite audacious. The most dramatic thing that could be done was, to put it simply, governments effectively pay for every business and every employee to have a two month paid holiday. Obviously, this would cost a very large amount of money for governments, but it would be the least disruptive way of getting us all to stay home.

And when the time is right to start letting us get back to anything vaguely like normality, there wouldn't be as much permanent disruption. I think about six weeks have passed since I wrote that piece. Actually, given the policies many governments have announced, I'm not sure undertaking the audacity in generosity of what I suggested would have cost any more. Over the long term, it might have actually turned out to be less. 

Of course, there are ethics issues around whether the system could be gamed or not, amongst other issues. But six weeks later, I still believe that would have been the smartest thing to do. It certainly would have been much better than trying to encourage many businesses, particularly smaller ones, to take out loans.

A couple of countries got close to what I was suggesting – Germany and Switzerland were very quick to give 100% government guarantees to business, as well as generous wage support systems. But a number of other countries haven't, like the US, even though they wrote a $1200 check for each citizen. 

Should a people’s QE involve the purchase and write off of consumer debt and student debt by a central bank? 

I think these things might have to be considered. I remember being on a conference call to Chatham House members where we discussed what would be the likely economic consequences and what policymakers should do. One person on the call was talking about quite conventional forms of policy just through various forms of standard QE. 

During the Q&A, someone asked whether we thought the US Federal Reserve might end up buying equities. And I said, well, why not? Eventually, it might come to that. 

Actually, before that discussion was over, the Fed coincidentally announced they were going to buy high-yield corporate bonds, or very risky company debt. This is something that would have been unheard of even by the playbook of 2008. 

So, I don't think ideas like a kind of provision to help student debtors is entirely crazy. These are things that our policymakers are going to have to think about as we go forward in the challenging and unpredictable days and weeks ahead. 

Poorer countries like El Salvador have gone as far as cancelling rent and major utility bills for its citizens. Do you think countries like the US and UK have gone far enough to help people during the crisis?

Going one step further than a people’s QE and postponing major payments is a pretty interesting concept. I think in reality, it would be very disruptive to the medium to long-term mechanism of our societies. It could be very, very complicated. 

But, of course, some parts of the G20 nations, including the UK, have moved significantly in these areas as it relates to rent payments or mortgage payments. There have been significant mortgage holidays being introduced for many sectors of our community. I think the British government has been quite thoughtful about it without doing the whole hog of potentially getting rid of our transaction system for two months or beyond.

You know, this may well be something that has to be considered if, God forbid, there is a second peak of the virus. If countries come out of a lockdown and all that results in is a dramatic rise in infections and then death again, we're going to end up right back where we are. Policymakers may have to implement more generous versions of what we've done already, despite what the long term debt consequences could be.

The Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act in the US has been criticized as a corporate bailout while offering little to the American people. It was recently reported that hedge fund managers are applying for bailouts as ‘small businesses.’ Do you think more oversight is needed in how the stimulus funds are allocated? 

The speed at which many countries have responded and introduced policies means that there's going to be some gaping holes which allow people to unfairly benefit from the system. And if indeed, that were to be the case, I cannot see why a hedge fund should benefit from government generosity.

A true hedge fund is supposed to be a form of investment manager that thrives in times of great volatility, and knows how to better navigate such financial markets than more conventional funds. So this shouldn’t be an environment where hedge funds seek the same kind of help as small businesses. That is certainly something the government should be very careful about.

Some economists argue that central banks are not independent as they finance fiscal spending through purchase of government bonds. Do the strong measures taken by central banks in response to the crisis undermine the argument for central bank independence? 

In my view, an effective central bank has to do whatever is necessary, including doing very unconventional things, when the society in which that central bank operates needs it. 

Most of the time, central banks are pretty boring places, but they really become crucial organizations when we go through times like the 1920s, 1930s, 2008, and of course, this current crisis. If they want to maintain their legitimacy, whatever the true parliamentary or congressional legal standing is, they have to do things quickly and as we've seen in this case, differently than the convention in order to do what our societies need. 

Somebody was asking me just last week whether the Fed buying high grade debt was legal or not. I think that’s a pretty irrelevant conversation because if it’s not legal now, it will be made legal tomorrow. So, I think central banks have to keep their legitimacy and they have to do what is necessary when the time requires it. In that sense, I think most central banks have handled this crisis so far pretty well.

The transition of power in Oman from the deceased Sultan Qaboos to his cousin and the country’s new ruler, Sultan Haitham bin Tariq, has been smooth and quick, but the new sultan will soon find that he has a task in shoring up the country’s economic position.

Above all, the fiscal and debt profile of the country requires careful management. Fiscal discipline was rare for Oman even during the oil price spike of the 2000s. Although oil prices only collapsed in 2014, Oman has been registering a fiscal deficit since 2010, reaching a 20.6 per cent high in 2016. As long as fiscal deficits remain elevated, so will Oman’s need to finance those deficits, predominately by borrowing in the local and international market.

Oman’s Debt-to-GDP ratio has been rising at a worrying pace, from 4.9 per cent in 2014 to an IMF-estimated 59.8 per cent in 2019. By 2024, the IMF is forecasting the ratio to reach nearly 77 per cent. A study by the World Bank found that if the debt-to-GDP ratio in emerging markets exceeds 64 per cent for an extended period, it slows economic growth by as much as 2 per cent each year.

Investors are willing to lend to Oman, but the sultanate is paying for it in terms of higher spreads due to the underlying risk markets are placing on the rising debt profile of the country. For instance, Oman has a higher sovereign debt rating than Bahrain yet markets perceive it to be of higher risk, making it costlier to borrow. Failure to address the fiscal and debt situation also risks creating pressure on the country’s pegged currency.

If oil revenues remain low, Sultan Haitham will have to craft a daring strategy of diversification and private sector growth. He is well placed for this: Sultan Haitham headed Oman’s Vision 2040, which set out the country’s future development plans and aspirations, the first Gulf country to embark on such an assessment. However, like all vision documents in the Gulf, Oman’s challenge will be implementation.

In the age of climate change, renewable energy is a serious economic opportunity, which Oman has to keep pursuing. If cheap electricity is generated it could also be exported to other Gulf states and to south Asia. In Oman, the share of renewables in total electricity capacity was around 0.5 per cent in 2018; the ambition is to reach 10 per cent by 2025.

However, in order to reach this target, Oman would have to take additional measures such as enhancing its regulatory framework, introducing a transparent and gradual energy market pricing policy and integrating all stakeholders, including the private sector, into a wider national strategy.

Mining could provide another economic opportunity for Oman’s diversification efforts, with help from a more robust mining law passed last year. The country has large deposits of metals and industrial minerals and its mountains could have gold, palladium, zinc, rare earths and manganese.

Oman’s strategic location connecting the Gulf and Indian Ocean with east Africa and the Red Sea could also boost the country’s economy. The Duqm special economic zone, which is among the largest in the world, could become the commercial thread between Oman, south Asia and China’s ‘Belt and Road Initiative.’

Oman has taken important steps to make its economy more competitive and conducive to foreign direct investment. Incentives include a five-year renewable tax holiday, subsidized plant facilities and utilities, and custom duties relief on equipment and raw materials for the first 10 years of a firm’s operation in Oman.

A private sector economic model that embraces small- and medium-sized enterprises as well as greater competition and entrepreneurship would help increase opportunities in Oman. Like all other Gulf economies, future employment in Oman will have to be driven be the private sector, as there is little space left to grow the public sector.

Privatization needs to continue. Last year’s successful sale of 49 per cent of the electricity transmission company to China’s State Grid is a very positive step. The electricity distribution company as well as Oman Oil are next in line for some form of partial privatization.

The next decade will require Oman to be even more adept in its competitiveness as the region itself tries to find its new bearings. Take tourism for instance; Oman hopes to double its contribution to GDP from around 3 per cent today to 6 per cent by 2040 and the industry is expected to generate half a million jobs by then. Over the next 20 years, Oman will most likely be facing stiff competition in this area not only by the UAE but by Saudi Arabia as well.

The new sultan has an opportunity to embark on deeper economic reforms that could bring higher growth, employment opportunities and a sustainable future. But he has a big task.

The view from the Gulf

Neil Quilliam

There has been no coordinated response among states of the GCC, but the messages have been universal, and surprisingly each one has welcomed US efforts to restart peace talks and praised this particular US administration for doing so. But in each case, the same set of issues and concerns has been highlighted, namely the status of Jerusalem, the situation of refugees and ultimately a simple absence of a revival contiguous Palestinian state.

While much has been made of younger Gulf generation’s apparent disconnect from the emotive issues around Palestinian statehood, the state of Jerusalem and the larger refugee issue, older leaders in the Gulf continue to pay them heed. And despite a desire to coordinate with Israel on matters of security, intelligence sharing and tech, they will not advance the relationship under the terms of the so-called ‘deal of the century’.

Put simply, the deal forces Palestinians to concede ground on all matters of importance. And should the Arab Gulf states sign up to it, they will be judged harshly by history for not only selling out Palestine for $50 billion, but also footing the bill. As such, they all feel compelled to hedge and pay salutary lip-service to US efforts but know quietly they will die on the vine and that the Arab Peace Initiative is the only viable framework for advancing talks.

Even younger leaders know that the greater risk will come from signing up to the deal rather than twitter wrath of the US president.

Kuwaiti Parliament Speaker Marzouq Al-Ghanim threw a copy in the bin, emphasizing that it ‘was born dead’ and ‘should be thrown in the dustbin of history’.

While the Saudi official position towards the deal was one of qualified support, the Saudi press reported that King Salman had spoken with Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, who has rejected the plan, to ‘stress to him the Kingdom's steadfast position vis-à-vis the Palestinian cause and the rights of the Palestinian people’. The king reportedly added: ‘The Kingdom stands alongside the Palestinian people and supports its choices and what[ever] will actualize its hopes and aspirations.’

Turki Al-Faisal, the former Saudi intelligence chief, described the deal’s idea of a Palestinian state as ‘a brutal conception’ and the deal itself as a ‘modern-day Frankenstein’. ‘For Palestine, it is definitely a step back,’ Al-Faisal said. ‘[The Trump administration has] given up the legitimate history and weight of the United Nations Security Council resolutions and adopted a unilateral path.’

The view from Europe

Reni Zhelyazkova

The initial EU response to President Trump’s ‘Peace to Prosperity’ plan was one of caution. An official statement soon after the announcement declared that the proposal needs to be studied and assessed but only a few days later the EU’s High Representative for Foreign Affairs, Josep Borrell, condemned the plan for being out of line with internationally agreed parameters.

Some member states like Luxembourg have expressed support for the foreign policy chief’s position. Ireland, historically a strong supporter of the Palestinian cause, and Sweden, the only country to recognize the Palestinian state after becoming an EU member, have responded negatively to the US proposal, expressing concern over mentions of Israeli annexation of Palestinian land and stating that it falls short from previous international agreements.

Other EU countries, however, have been much more guarded in their reactions. Responses from Germany and France have so far been lukewarm – on the one hand, welcoming US attempts at re-igniting peace talks between Israelis and Palestinians, and, on the other, warning that any future negotiations and agreements must be carried out in accordance with internationally established parameters and legal frameworks.

A strong voice of support for Trump’s proposal was that of Hungary, whose minister of foreign affairs and trade, Péter Szijjártó, commended White House adviser Jared Kushner on the plan during a meeting in Washington last week. Other EU countries are yet to respond publicly to the proposal but unity among all EU countries is far from certain.

The EU’s official position is that a two-state solution based on pre-1967 borders and in line with previous agreements and UN resolutions is the only viable option for lasting peace between Israelis and Palestinians.

However, Israeli foreign policy under Netanyahu has focused on strengthening bilateral relations with countries in eastern and central Europe. Cooperation with Romania, Bulgaria, Greece, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and most recently Slovakia and Hungary has improved in all areas – from security and trade to tourism and cultural exchanges.

Five of these countries, namely, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria recognized the State of Palestine prior to joining the EU, but the rise of populist nationalism, concerns over migration and terrorism, and improving relations with the Trump administration in the US have contributed to an alignment in views between Israel and the right-leaning governments in southern and eastern Europe, as well as those in Italy and Austria.

Improved bilateral relations have translated into political acts of good will towards Israel with a number of EU countries expressing support for Israel in the United Nations and other international forums. Austria, Romania, Hungary and the Czech Republic defied official EU position and attended the US embassy opening in Jerusalem in May 2018.

In this sense, Israel’s strategy in eastern and central Europe can be seen as a deliberate effort to break up consensus within the EU, and, ideally, reverse the bloc’s position towards the Middle East conflict, but also towards Iran. 

At a time when the EU is managing Brexit, a complex internal agenda, including arguments over the EU budget, and with its relationship with the US strained over Iran, trade and other issues, it is unlikely that the bloc will contribute significant efforts to the Middle East Peace Process. It is even more difficult to see the EU coming up with its own proposal and even less likely that all member states will be able to agree on such an initiative given internal divisions. 

Under the EU Neighbourhood Policy, the European Joint Strategy in Support of Palestine for the period 2017-20 has focused on supporting the Palestinian Authority (PA) with institutional reform, economic development and service delivery. Progress, however, has been limited as the success of programming is dependent on Israeli policy towards the West Bank and Gaza. This has hardened under Netanyahu, who enjoys the full support of the current US administration and sees the EU as biased towards the Palestinians. 

Any plan that replaces the 2017-20 joint strategy will most likely be a continuation of the current approach which focuses on conflict management and supporting the already crumbling two-state solution by keeping the PA alive. 

Some room for cautious hope remains, as much depends on the outcome of the Israeli election on 2 March and the US presidential election in November. Changes in leadership could open up space for EU to actively support the reinvigoration of peace talks and regain its relevance as a mediator in the Middle East Peace Process.

Ever since independence, the Moroccan monarchy has used political parties to legitimize the country’s authoritarian political process and structure, and to absorb social and political anger. The palace puts successive governments and other elected institutions, such as local and regional councils, at the frontline of public blame, and replaces them once they fail this function.

In a recent article, MENA Programme Associate Fellow, Mohammed Masbah, examines how the Moroccan monarchy has used this strategy with the ruling Justice and Development Party (PJD) so that the palace remains the centre of political power, while the PJD – and other political parties before it– takes responsibility for coping with the mounting socio-economic crisis.

In this webinar, part of the Chatham House project on The Future of the State in the Middle East and North Africa, the article’s author will discuss the risks this approach presents for the long-term stability of Morocco and what reforms are needed to increase citizens’ dwindling confidence in the political process.

You can express your interest in attending by following this link. You will receive a Zoom confirmation email should your registration be successful.

Iraq is a country already in turmoil, suffering fallout from the major military escalation between the US and Iran, mass protests calling for an end to the post-2003 political system, and a violent government crackdown killing more than 600 and wounding almost 30,000 - all presided over by a fragmented political elite unable to agree upon a new prime minister following Adil abd al-Mehdi’s resignation back in November.

COVID-19 introduces yet another threat to the fragile political order, as the virus exposes Iraq’s ineffective public health system dismantled through decades of conflict, corruption and poor governance.

Iraqi doctors are making every effort to prepare for the worst-case scenario, but they do so with huge structural challenges. The Ministry of Health lacks enough ICU beds, human resources, ventilators, and personal protective equipment (PPE). Bogged down in bureaucracy, the ministry is struggling to process procurements of equipment and medications, and some doctors have made purchases themselves.

But individual efforts can only go so far as many Iraqi doctors are concerned the official numbers of confirmed COVID-19 cases do not reflect the complexity of the situation on the ground.

The ministry relies predominately upon patients self-presenting at designated public hospitals and has only just begun community-based testing in areas of suspected clusters. Reliance on self-presentation requires a level of trust between citizens and state institutions, which is at a historic low. This gap in trust – 17 years in the making – puts Iraq’s COVID-19 response particularly at risk.

Iraq’s myriad vulnerabilities

Certain social and political factors leave Iraq uniquely exposed to the coronavirus. The country’s vulnerability is tied directly to its social, religious and economic interconnections with Iran, an epicenter of the pandemic.

Exchanges between Iran and Iraq are concentrated in two regions, with strong cross-border links between Iraqi and Iranian Kurds in the north-east, and Iraqi and Iranian Shia pilgrims in the south. Cross-border circulation of religious pilgrims is particularly concerning, as they can result in mass ritual gatherings.

The high number of confirmed cases in the southern and northern peripheries of the country puts a spotlight on Iraq's failure in managing healthcare. The post-2003 government has failed to either rebuild a robust centralized healthcare system, or to pave the way for a federalized model.

Caught in an ambiguous middle between a centralized and federalized model, coordination across provinces and hospitals during the coronavirus crisis has neither reflected strong management from Baghdad nor robust ownership at the governorate level.

This problem is part of a wider challenge of managing centre-periphery relations and federalism, which since 2003 has not worked effectively. Baghdad has provided all 18 provinces with instructions on testing and treatment, but only a handful have enough resources to put them into practice. Advanced testing capacity is limited to the five provinces with WHO-approved centers, with the remaining 13 sending swabs to Baghdad.

But the greatest challenge to Iraq’s COVID-19 response is the dramatic deterioration of state-society relations. Studies reveal a profound societal distrust of Iraq’s public healthcare institutions, due to corruption and militarization of medical institutions. Numerous videos have recently circulated of families refusing to turn over sick members - particularly women - to medical teams visiting households with confirmed or suspected cases.

As medical anthropologist Omar Dewachi notes, the ‘moral economy of quarantine’ in Iraq is heavily shaped by a history of war and its impact on the relationship between people and the state. Although local and international media often interpret this reluctance to undergo quarantine as a matter of social or tribal norms, distrusting the state leads many families to refuse quarantine because they believe it resembles a form of arrest.

The management of coronavirus relies upon an overt convergence between medical institutions and security forces as the federal police collaborate with the Ministry of Health to impose curfews and enforce quarantine. This means that, troublingly, the same security establishment which violently cracked down on protesters and civil society activists is now the teeth behind Iraq’s COVID-19 response.

Without trust between society and the political class, civil society organizations and protest movements have directed their organizational structure towards awareness-raising across Iraq. Key religious authorities such as Grand Ayatollah Sistani have called for compliance to the curfew and mobilized charitable institutions.

However, such efforts will not be enough to make up for the lack of governance at the level of the state. In the short-term, Iraq’s medical professionals and institutions are in dire need of technical and financial support. In the long-term, COVID-19 is a lesson that Iraq’s once robust public healthcare system needs serious investment and reform.

COVID-19 may prove to be another catalyst challenging the ‘muddle through’ logic of the Iraqi political elite. International actors have largely been complicit in this logic, directing aid and technical support towards security forces and political allies in the interest of short-term stability, and neglecting institutions which Iraqis rely on for health, education, and well-being.

The response to the crisis requires cooperation and buy-in of a population neglected by 17 years of failed governance. This is a seminal event that may push the country to the brink, exposing and stirring underlying tensions in state-society relations.

This analysis was produced as part of the Iraq Initiative.

This webinar, part of the MENA Programme Webinar Series, will examine the trajectory of political and security dynamics in the Gulf in view of the ongoing rift within the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), the death of Sultan Qaboos in Oman, the escalation of tensions between Iran and the United States, and the COVID-19 crisis.

Speakers will explore the orientation of the GCC under a new Secretary-General and the prospects for mediation between Qatar and its neighbours, the future of Omani domestic and foreign policy under Sultan Haitham bin Tariq Al Said, eventual transitions to new leadership in Bahrain and Kuwait, and whether the impact of COVID-19 may help replace the confrontation within the GCC with closer coordination among its six member states.

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