Does the Indonesian government adequately protect human rights?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There have been large numbers of civilian deaths in the armed conflicts in Yemen and Syria. Is international humanitarian law being ignored?

This meeting marks the London launch of a Chatham House research paper on the incidental harm side of the proportionality assessment which belligerents are legally required to make. The panel at the meeting will consider the types of harm that fall within the scope of proportionality assessments, what constitutes ‘excessive’ harm and measures that belligerents can take to give effect to the rule on proportionality.

This event will be followed by a reception.

In 2016, the then-German foreign minister, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, suggested a way around the impasse in east Ukraine.

He proposed that elections in the areas held by Russian-backed insurgents – the ‘Donetsk People’s Republic’ (DNR) and the ‘Luhansk People’s Republic’ (LNR) –   could be held under Ukrainian legislation, with Kyiv adopting a temporary law on ‘special status’, the main disagreement between Russia and Ukraine in the Minsk Agreements. This law would become permanent once the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) had declared that elections correspond with OSCE standards.

The reaction in Ukraine was strongly negative. The so-called Steinmeier Formula contradicted Kyiv’s position that elections in the occupied Donbas should only go ahead in a secure environment – requiring the prior withdrawal of Russian forces and the return of the eastern border to Ukraine’s control. It also did not address the differing views of ‘special status’; Russia demands a much greater devolution of constitutional powers to the DNR and LNR regimes than Ukraine will grant.

But on 1 October, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the new Ukrainian president, announced that he was signing up to the Steinmeier Formula. He also announced a conditional withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from two frontline areas in the east.

Quick reversal

During the 2019 presidential election campaign, Zelenskyy repeatedly promised that, if elected, he would re-energize efforts to end the war. This appealed to many Ukrainians, who understandably want the conflict over, although Zelenskyy’s eventual electoral victory was largely won on domestic issues.

But his initiative quickly ran into two problems.

First, following a major prisoner swap in September, Russian President Vladimir Putin appeared to judge that Zelenskyy was in a hurry to deliver his election promises and was acting without consulting France and Germany. Russia had earlier demanded that Ukraine formally agree to elections in the Donbas as the precondition for a summit of the ‘Normandy’ powers (the diplomatic format comprising leaders of Ukraine, Russia, Germany and France, which has not met since 2016).

Moreover, the US, which is not part of the ‘Normandy’ group, has seemed disengaged because of domestic controversies. Concluding that Zelenskyy was vulnerable, the Kremlin welcomed his announcement about the Steinmeier Formula but declined to assent to a summit, hoping to extract further concessions.

Second, Zelenskyy’s action triggered protests in Kyiv and other Ukrainian cities. Critics feared that he intended to make unilateral concessions over ‘special status’. Though he tried to assure Ukrainians that ‘there won't be any elections there if the [Russian] troops are still there’, concerns were fuelled by what many saw as his lack of openness about what the Steinmeier Formula really meant. Ukrainian public opinion wants an end to the war, but apparently not at any price.

Zelenskyy duly rowed back. During a marathon 14-hour press conference on 10 October, he emphasized that he would not surrender Ukraine’s vital interests. He also acknowledged that he had been insufficiently open with the Ukrainian public. For the time being at least, he seems to have been given pause.

A situation resistant to compromise

Instead, Zelenskyy may now attempt to ‘freeze’ the conflict by ending active operations. This is not Ukraine’s favoured outcome but could be the most realistic one in current conditions.  

Russia still calculates that time is on its side. It believes that Western support for Ukraine is lukewarm and that Kyiv will eventually have to give it what it wants. Russia clearly felt no pressure to respond positively to Zelenskyy’s overture, which it probably read as a weakness to be exploited.    

For these reasons, Zelenskyy now appears less optimistic that rapid progress to end the war is possible. A new summit of the ‘Normandy’ powers may happen but looks unlikely in the near future. This may act as an incentive for further bilateral negotiations between Ukraine and Russia, such as those which delivered the prisoner swap. However, a diplomatic process managed by Zelenskyy and Putin alone risks reducing Ukraine’s leverage. 

Finally, the main obstacles to implementation of the Minsk Agreements – radically different views of elections in, and ‘special status’ for, the DNR and LNR – remain. The Kremlin’s versions of both would gravely limit Ukraine’s sovereignty; Kyiv’s would facilitate the re-establishment of its control over the east. It is hard to see how this gap can be bridged.

Tellingly, the Steinmeier Formula offers no answer to this conundrum. Some conflicts, it seems, are resistant to diplomatic compromises that aim to satisfy everyone equally.

Six years after the annexation of Crimea and the start of the armed conflict in Donbas, the process of coalescing the Ukrainian society around a common civic identity remains complex. Ukraine comprises many ethno-linguistic identities, and various internal and external actors have been able to exploit old and new grievances to increase tensions at the regional and local level.

The panellists will discuss the conflict dynamics along parts of Ukraine’s international border and the line of contact with Crimea. The speakers will review the internal political, social and economic trends that cause friction and suggest ways to strengthen cohesion.

The event will build upon key findings from International Alert’s analysis of the south of Odesa, Kherson and Zakarpattia oblasts and on the reintegration of veterans in Ukraine.

This event is organized in partnership with International Alert, supported by UK aid from the UK government as part of the Peace Research Partnership programme.

One of the key messages at the heart of Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s presidential campaign in 2019 was a very simple one: peace in Donbas, the war-torn region of Ukraine where Russian-supported separatists continue to fight a war against the Kyiv government. Zelenskyy’s message was based on the assumption that if a ceasefire could be respected, and all Ukrainian prisoners-of-war could return home, then peace would have been achieved.

Nine months after Zelenskyy’s inauguration and two months after his first Normandy Four summit (which brings together Germany and France with Ukraine and Russia to discuss Donbas), it appears more likely that this approach will lead Ukraine into a Russian trap.

Zelenskyy’s very immediate objectives and the tactics used to achieve them contrast with those of the previous president, Petro Poroshenko. Zelenskyy has pointedly avoided naming Russia as an aggressor and has focused on humanitarian issues and seeking compromise wherever possible, including in legal cases that Russia has already lost in international courts.

In contrast, President Poroshenko prioritised the security agenda as a precondition for any political settlement, encapsulated in the notion of ‘no elections without security guarantees’. This focused on regaining control of the border and the demilitarization of the separatist-controlled territories. At the same time, Poroshenko sought remedial action for Russian aggression through international courts. 

Kyiv is testing the Kremlin’s real intentions with a series of small steps without clearly communicating its overarching objectives. This has triggered considerable social disquiet, manifested by demonstrations in Kyiv and other cities as part of the ’No capitulation’ campaign. This wave of criticism forced Zelenskyy’s team to name certain red lines, which he promised he would not cross (‘we don’t trade territories and people’) in pursuit of conflict resolution.

Other key issues, such as Ukraine’s relations with the EU, future NATO membership, language issues and any possible ‘special status’ for Donbas, have been left undefined.

Two months since the Normandy summit, the number of casualties has not declined. It is increasingly difficult for Zelenskyy to argue that disengagement by Ukraine’s army from the contact line in three locations, which was a precondition for the December Normandy Four meeting, is a way to achieve peace.

The separatists continue to significantly impede the OSCE’s special monitoring mission, a full ceasefire is not being observed and there are numerous reports of heavy weapons movements closer to the contact line in the areas outside Kyiv’s control. These issues are particularly problematic as control over the border with Russia is essential for the demilitarization of the ‘people’s republics’, which is a prerequisite for the safe reintegration of these areas.

Conducting local elections in autumn 2020 is a top priority for the new team, but it is clear that even if Ukraine regains control of its border, the presence of Russian military personnel and weaponry in Donbas threatens the prospect of free and fair elections (which themselves raise the further issue of how to ensure the integrity of the votes).

Russia’s strategy

So despite Zelenskyy’s pacifist rhetoric, hopes and ambitions, his plans are far from being realized or, in fact, realizable. This is because these plans are at odds with Russia’s strategic objective, which is for Donbas to be conferred a status whereby it is de jure within Ukraine but de facto under Russian control and influence.

Zelenskyy’s media-friendly appearance in Paris in December 2019 could not mask the fact that the Normandy Four talks exposed the weakness of Ukraine’s position and the growing influence of Russia’s approach, particularly in the context of a disengaged UK and US, a Germany increasingly tired of this conflict, and a French president who is looking to accommodate Russian preferences.

Indeed, Vladimir Putin was able to exploit the opportunity to apply his favoured formula for conducting foreign policy: highly personalized informal interactions, which seek specific political concessions from a cornered partner and which are short on transparent, stable and law-based solutions. The Paris meeting of the Normandy Four in December 2019 clearly demonstrated that simply sitting down and talking to Putin is not a magic pill to end the conflict, an idea frequently expressed by Zelenskyy.

In 2020, the strongest clue as to what Putin’s plans for Ukraine might be is the appointment of Dmitry Kozak as the main curator of the ‘Ukraine file’ (meaning Donbas and Crimea), replacing Vladislav Surkov, his long-time competitor for the role. The next Normandy meeting is expected in April 2020, and Kyiv should be aware of the possible pitfalls.

While Kozak is perceived by some as a more pragmatic and less aggressive counterpart, his past tells a different story. In fact, he was the architect of the long-term strategy for Moldova, which centred on the federalization of Moldova and the reincorporation of the separatist region of Transnistria into Moldova.

The presence of Russian military forces stationed on the ground there amounts to ‘armed suasion’ – using a military presence to demand political concessions from Moldova. The so-called ‘Kozak memorandum’ – which de facto re-writes the constitution of Moldova – contains a detailed explanation of that strategy.

Kozak could try to deliver a similar situation for Ukraine. Less emphasis is being put on specific terms (federalization vs. special status) but the overarching aims are unchanged since 2014, in the same way they have been in Moldova since 2003. Kozak is a man who can play the long game, while the team of the Ukrainian president chases quick successes without calculating long-term risks. This could be a dangerous combination.

The ‘human-centric approach’ to resolving the conflict followed by President Zelenskyy is a double-edged sword. The focuses on humanitarian issues and readiness for big compromises are clear positive signals to Western partners and supporters of Zelenskyy’s Servant of the People party. But prioritizing humanitarian issues over national security considerations could easily lead Ukraine into a Russian trap, which does not so much rely on a massive military assault but envisages creeping control over Ukraine’s future as its ultimate goal.

The armed conflict in Donbas has now entered its seventh year. President Zelenskyy, who came to power in May 2019, promised to end the war with Russia and bring peace to Ukraine.

Since assuming office, Zelenskyy has managed to revive the Normandy Format talks, complete military disengagement at three points along the line of contact and negotiate the release of over a hundred Ukrainians held as prisoners of war in Russia. However, ceasefire violations continue to occur frequently.

Looking at the origins of the armed conflict in Donbas and the region’s economic role in Ukraine’s economy, this event discusses the prospects for conflict resolution. Do the recent events signify an opportunity for peace? Does Zelenskyy have a viable plan for re-integrating Donbas or will the region be cut off from mainland Ukraine for the foreseeable future?

The speakers assess the strategy and track record of the Ukrainian government and its Western allies in bringing parts of the occupied Donbas under Kyiv’s control. They also review possible policy implications of the COVID-19 pandemic for the conflict.

The European Union is the ultimate ‘rules-based order’. Since the end of the Cold War, the world has become increasingly integrated, in a process that Dani Rodrik has called ‘hyper-globalization’ to distinguish this from the more moderate form of globalization that occurred during the Cold War period.

But Europe, which was already more integrated than the rest of the world, has gone even further in removing barriers to the internal movement of capital, goods and people. The consequence of this has been the need for a more developed system of rules to govern this deep integration.

For much of this period, many Europeans – and also many outside Europe who had a liberal view of international politics – believed that the EU was a kind of blueprint for global governance.

They believed that the rest of the world would simply catch up with the enlightened and apparently successful approach that Europeans had taken. In short, Europeans were showing the way forward for the world.

However, after a decade of crisis, it now seems as if Europe may have overreached. In particular with the creation of the single currency, European rules increasingly extended into areas of life in which member states had previously had relative autonomy.

Since the beginning of the euro crisis in 2010, there has been a backlash against EU rules, which has raised the difficult question of whether international rule-making can go too far.

What makes international rules problematic is that they depoliticize – that is, they take the policy areas they cover out of the realm of democratic contestation. This can be a good thing when applied to policy areas that we think should be non-negotiable, like human rights.

But since the 1980s, and especially since the end of the Cold War, international rules have increasingly applied to areas of policy that not only should be contested but that should be at the centre of contestation – in particular, economic policy areas that have distributional consequences (that is, they create winners and losers).

The EU’s rules constrain its member states even more than global rules – for example, those of the World Trade Organization (WTO) – or rules associated with other regional integration projects constrain nation states elsewhere in the world. In particular, the EU’s fiscal rules – created along with the euro – set strict limits on the ability of member states to run budget deficits and accumulate debt.

Since the beginning of the euro crisis, these fiscal rules have been further tightened, which in turn has magnified the political backlash against the EU system and fuelled tensions between member states.

In democratic nation states, rules are made through a process that gives them what is sometimes called ‘input legitimacy’. International rule-making, by contrast, is essentially the product of power relations between states and therefore lacks this specific kind of legitimacy.

Supporters of European integration as currently constituted – whom one might term ‘pro-Europeans’ – would argue that EU rules are more like domestic rules than international rules: after all, they are agreed through a process involving democratic institutions such as the European Parliament. But even within the EU, power matters – as notably illustrated by Germany’s prominent (and controversial) role in driving the development of fiscal rules since the beginning of the euro crisis.

In addition, because European integration is meant to be an irreversible process, it is extremely difficult to change or abolish rules that have already been agreed. To do so would be ‘disintegration’ in the sense that powers would be returned to member states.

For example, there are good economic and political arguments for abolishing the ‘debt brake’, based on a German model, that EU member states agreed to incorporate into their national constitutions as part of the Fiscal Compact in 2011. But anyone making those arguments is labelled as Eurosceptic or ‘anti-European’.

There is also insufficient differentiation between EU rules. Any decision taken at a European level – even those decisions, such as on the Fiscal Compact, that are outside the EU treaties – becomes part of the EU’s system of rules. To challenge such a decision is therefore to violate the rule of law and therefore the EU’s ‘values’.

As Dieter Grimm has shown, legislation that would normally have the status of secondary law in a nation state has constitutional status in EU law and is therefore ‘immunized against political correction’.[1]

Though European leaders still often speak of the EU as a model for the rest of the world, the reality is that it now illustrates what other regional integration projects should avoid as much as what they should emulate. Even before the euro crisis, few other regions were thinking of creating a common currency.

But they will now think even more carefully about how far to follow Europe down the route of economic integration it has taken – and in particular will be unlikely to introduce EU-style fiscal rules.

The difficult question is where exactly the limits of international rule-making should be set. The European experience in the past decade suggests that rules on economic policy are particularly problematic because of the distributional consequences they have.

But European integration focused on economic policy from its beginnings with the European Coal and Steel Community in the 1950s. Moreover, because globalization is to a large extent an economic phenomenon, economic policy is precisely where international rules are needed.

A good place to start in thinking about where to set the limits of international rule-making may be in terms of the objectives of rules. During the early phase of European integration and the more moderate phase of globalization in the 30 years after the end of the Second World War, integration strengthened nation states – indeed, Alan Milward argued that integration ‘rescued’ the nation state in Europe.[2]

But since the end of the Cold War, rules at both the global level and a European level have been driven by the maximization of economic efficiency. This has undermined the nation state. As Rodrik has argued, a reprioritization is now needed – rules should be made above all with their impact on democracy in mind.[3]

In order to regain legitimacy, Europe should apply this idea of democracy-enhancing rules to its own approach to integration. It should begin by differentiating more clearly between rules that are fundamental to the European project and those about which Europeans can – and should – disagree.

The consequence of thinking of rules above all in terms of legitimacy may be that in some policy areas, particularly those with distributive consequences, rules should be abolished and power returned to member states.

‘Pro-Europeans’ should be open to this kind of ‘disintegration’ as a way to help the EU regain legitimacy and thus be sustainable in the medium term. It is also only by successfully recalibrating the balance between rules and democracy that the EU will once again be seen as a model for regional integration projects in the rest of the world, and for global governance more generally.

Notes

[1] Grimm, D. (2015), ‘The Democratic Costs of Constitutionalisation: The European Case’, European Law Journal, Volume 21, Issue 4, July 2015, https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/eulj.12139.

[2] Milward, A. (1999), The European Rescue of the Nation State, London: Routledge.

[3] Rodrik, D. (2006), ‘Put Globalization to Work for Democracies’, New York Times, 17 September 2006, https://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/18/opinion/sunday/put-globalization-to-work-for-democracies.html.

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.

In 2016, the then-German foreign minister, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, suggested a way around the impasse in east Ukraine.

He proposed that elections in the areas held by Russian-backed insurgents – the ‘Donetsk People’s Republic’ (DNR) and the ‘Luhansk People’s Republic’ (LNR) –   could be held under Ukrainian legislation, with Kyiv adopting a temporary law on ‘special status’, the main disagreement between Russia and Ukraine in the Minsk Agreements. This law would become permanent once the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) had declared that elections correspond with OSCE standards.

The reaction in Ukraine was strongly negative. The so-called Steinmeier Formula contradicted Kyiv’s position that elections in the occupied Donbas should only go ahead in a secure environment – requiring the prior withdrawal of Russian forces and the return of the eastern border to Ukraine’s control. It also did not address the differing views of ‘special status’; Russia demands a much greater devolution of constitutional powers to the DNR and LNR regimes than Ukraine will grant.

But on 1 October, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the new Ukrainian president, announced that he was signing up to the Steinmeier Formula. He also announced a conditional withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from two frontline areas in the east.

Quick reversal

During the 2019 presidential election campaign, Zelenskyy repeatedly promised that, if elected, he would re-energize efforts to end the war. This appealed to many Ukrainians, who understandably want the conflict over, although Zelenskyy’s eventual electoral victory was largely won on domestic issues.

But his initiative quickly ran into two problems.

First, following a major prisoner swap in September, Russian President Vladimir Putin appeared to judge that Zelenskyy was in a hurry to deliver his election promises and was acting without consulting France and Germany. Russia had earlier demanded that Ukraine formally agree to elections in the Donbas as the precondition for a summit of the ‘Normandy’ powers (the diplomatic format comprising leaders of Ukraine, Russia, Germany and France, which has not met since 2016).

Moreover, the US, which is not part of the ‘Normandy’ group, has seemed disengaged because of domestic controversies. Concluding that Zelenskyy was vulnerable, the Kremlin welcomed his announcement about the Steinmeier Formula but declined to assent to a summit, hoping to extract further concessions.

Second, Zelenskyy’s action triggered protests in Kyiv and other Ukrainian cities. Critics feared that he intended to make unilateral concessions over ‘special status’. Though he tried to assure Ukrainians that ‘there won't be any elections there if the [Russian] troops are still there’, concerns were fuelled by what many saw as his lack of openness about what the Steinmeier Formula really meant. Ukrainian public opinion wants an end to the war, but apparently not at any price.

Zelenskyy duly rowed back. During a marathon 14-hour press conference on 10 October, he emphasized that he would not surrender Ukraine’s vital interests. He also acknowledged that he had been insufficiently open with the Ukrainian public. For the time being at least, he seems to have been given pause.

A situation resistant to compromise

Instead, Zelenskyy may now attempt to ‘freeze’ the conflict by ending active operations. This is not Ukraine’s favoured outcome but could be the most realistic one in current conditions.  

Russia still calculates that time is on its side. It believes that Western support for Ukraine is lukewarm and that Kyiv will eventually have to give it what it wants. Russia clearly felt no pressure to respond positively to Zelenskyy’s overture, which it probably read as a weakness to be exploited.    

For these reasons, Zelenskyy now appears less optimistic that rapid progress to end the war is possible. A new summit of the ‘Normandy’ powers may happen but looks unlikely in the near future. This may act as an incentive for further bilateral negotiations between Ukraine and Russia, such as those which delivered the prisoner swap. However, a diplomatic process managed by Zelenskyy and Putin alone risks reducing Ukraine’s leverage. 

Finally, the main obstacles to implementation of the Minsk Agreements – radically different views of elections in, and ‘special status’ for, the DNR and LNR – remain. The Kremlin’s versions of both would gravely limit Ukraine’s sovereignty; Kyiv’s would facilitate the re-establishment of its control over the east. It is hard to see how this gap can be bridged.

Tellingly, the Steinmeier Formula offers no answer to this conundrum. Some conflicts, it seems, are resistant to diplomatic compromises that aim to satisfy everyone equally.

Six years after the annexation of Crimea and the start of the armed conflict in Donbas, the process of coalescing the Ukrainian society around a common civic identity remains complex. Ukraine comprises many ethno-linguistic identities, and various internal and external actors have been able to exploit old and new grievances to increase tensions at the regional and local level.

The panellists will discuss the conflict dynamics along parts of Ukraine’s international border and the line of contact with Crimea. The speakers will review the internal political, social and economic trends that cause friction and suggest ways to strengthen cohesion.

The event will build upon key findings from International Alert’s analysis of the south of Odesa, Kherson and Zakarpattia oblasts and on the reintegration of veterans in Ukraine.

This event is organized in partnership with International Alert, supported by UK aid from the UK government as part of the Peace Research Partnership programme.

The armed conflict in Donbas has now entered its seventh year. President Zelenskyy, who came to power in May 2019, promised to end the war with Russia and bring peace to Ukraine.

Since assuming office, Zelenskyy has managed to revive the Normandy Format talks, complete military disengagement at three points along the line of contact and negotiate the release of over a hundred Ukrainians held as prisoners of war in Russia. However, ceasefire violations continue to occur frequently.

Looking at the origins of the armed conflict in Donbas and the region’s economic role in Ukraine’s economy, this event discusses the prospects for conflict resolution. Do the recent events signify an opportunity for peace? Does Zelenskyy have a viable plan for re-integrating Donbas or will the region be cut off from mainland Ukraine for the foreseeable future?

The speakers assess the strategy and track record of the Ukrainian government and its Western allies in bringing parts of the occupied Donbas under Kyiv’s control. They also review possible policy implications of the COVID-19 pandemic for the conflict.

On 7 November, as governments reconvened in Marrakech for the first major round of climate talks since the momentous Paris summit, they had the wind in their sails. The sense of momentum that had built in the run-up to Paris had continued, with recent global deals to phase out HFCs (potent greenhouse gases used in refrigeration and air conditioning) and tackle emissions from aviation. However, by the morning of 9 November the mood changed to one of unease and trepidation, as news of Donald Trump’s US election victory sunk in. Only days after entering into force, the Paris Agreement was faced with the possibility of the world’s second largest emitter, and a key dealmaker and architect of the regime, withdrawing.

Although details of Trump’s positions on climate and energy policy are scarce, his statements on the campaign trail appear to signal a marked departure from the Obama administration’s approach. The president-elect has said he would ‘cancel’ the Paris Agreement and ‘rescind’ the Climate Action Plan which underpins US action to reduce emissions. On the basis of these statements, it is hard to view the election result as anything other than a major setback for the climate. The new international climate regime now faces a very early and very big test.

Paris’s first test

The response from governments has been swift. Statement after statement emphasized a clear and consistent message: countries remain committed to the Paris Agreement and to delivering their emissions reductions. While there is hope that the US will remain a part, the message was that the process will continue regardless. Importantly, there have as yet been no indications that recusant parties to the agreement might use a US withdrawal as cover to do the same.

This display of unity is arguably Marrakech’s defining success. Progress in talks to flesh out the so-called ‘rulebook’ for how the Paris Agreement will operate come 2020 was modest in some areas and disappointing in others; on finance, the perennial tensions between developed and developing countries were as clear as ever. But when the time came to uphold the nascent regime in the face of a threat, powerful international norms on climate action meant there were no divisions.

Two important questions

The prospect of US disengagement from the international regime, whether de jure or de facto, raises two important questions: one for the US and another for the rest of the world.

For the international community, the question is one of leadership. In the run-up to Paris, the US and China together set expectations for a global agreement, signalling their intent through a series of joint announcements that set the bar for ambition and carried other countries with them. Progressive countries hoped this partnership would re-emerge in 2018, when talks begin on closing the gap between national emission reduction plans and what is needed to achieve the Paris goal of containing warming ‘well below’ 2°C. A wholesale step change in ambition is required if the 2°C goal is to remain within reach, requiring intense climate diplomacy of the kind witnessed before Paris. Will China be prepared to unilaterally set the pace and raise ambition first? Will a new partner come forward, or new coalition emerge, to fill the vacuum left by the US and work alongside China to provide leadership?

The US faces a question of national interest. With the rest of the world apparently united on climate change, what costs might the US incur were it to withdraw from the global regime? To fly in the face of strong international norms on climate action would certainly erode American soft power and concede global status to China, which continues to signal its ambition to decarbonize. And with the US expected to take a more protectionist approach to trade, it is possible that other countries, frustrated at US free-riding on the emissions reductions of others, might impose tariffs on American imports to adjust for the lower emissions costs of US exporters. Nor will American prosperity be served by the US economy remaining shackled to fossil fuels while the rest of the world’s economy transitions away from them. All countries stand to lose if the US backslides on climate change, most of all the US.

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