The Protection of Civilians (PoC) in peacekeeping and the Responsibility to Protect (R2P) populations from atrocity crimes are two norms that emerged at the turn of the new millennium with the aim of protecting vulnerable peoples from mass violence and/or systematic and widespread violations of human rights. To date, most scholars have analysed the discourses over the status, strength and robustness of both norms separately. And yet, the distinction between the two has at times been exceptionally fine. In this article, we analyse the constitutive relationship between PoC and R2P, and the impact of discursive and behavioural contestation on their joint evolution within the UN system and state practice over three phases (1999–2005; 2006–10; 2011–18). In so doing, we contribute to the International Relations literature on norms by illuminating ideational interplay in the dynamics of norm evolution and contestation. More specifically, we illustrate how actors may seek to strengthen support for one norm, or dimension of a norm, by contrasting it or linking it with another. Our analysis also reveals that while the two norms of R2P and PoC were initially debated and implemented through different institutional paths and policy frameworks, discursive and behavioural contestation has in more recent years brought them closer together in one important respect. The meaning ascribed to both norms—by representatives of states and institutions such as the United Nations—has become more state-centric, with an emphasis on building and strengthening the capacity of national authorities to protect populations. This meaning contrasts with the more cosmopolitan origins of R2P and PoC, and arguably limits possibilities for the external enforcement of both norms through any form of international authority that stands above or outside sovereign states. This article forms part of the special section of the May 2019 issue of International Affairs on ‘The dynamics of dissent’, guest-edited by Anette Stimmer and Lea Wisken.

China’s adherence to the rules-based international system is selective, prioritizing certain rules in favour of others. States supportive of that ‘system’ – or, as some argue, systems[1] – should identify areas of mutual strategic interest so that they can draw China further into the global rules-based order and leverage China as a constructive player that potentially also contributes to improvements in such areas. This is particularly apposite at a time when the US is in retreat from multilateralism and Russia seems bent on disrupting the rules-based international order.

Supportive player

There are many reasons for actively engaging with China on mutual areas of interest. China is a committed multilateralist in many areas, recognizing that often international cooperation and frameworks hold the key to its domestic problems, for example in the fields of environmental sustainability and financial regulation.

China’s economic power is valuable in upholding international institutions: China is the UN’s third-largest donor (after the US and Japan) at a time when the UN is facing budgetary shortfalls. China is also the second-highest contributor to the UN peacekeeping budget, and the largest contributor of peacekeeping forces among the five permanent members of the UN Security Council.

China also has a valuable role to play in the settlement of international disputes over trade and investment. China is a big supporter of the World Trade Organization (WTO)’s dispute settlement mechanism, and one of its most active participants;[2] China is currently playing an active role in negotiations to save the WTO’s appellate mechanism from folding in the wake of the US’s refusal to nominate new judges.

The last 15 years have also seen a major shift in Chinese attitudes to investment arbitration, from a general suspicion and limitation of arbitration rights to broad acceptance and incorporation of such rights in China’s trade and investment treaties. China is actively engaged in multilateral negotiations through the UN Commission on International Trade Law (UNCITRAL) on reforms to investor–state dispute settlement.

China has shown leadership on global climate change diplomacy, urging nations to remain committed to the Paris Agreement in the wake of the US decision to pull out, and has been an important interlocutor with the UK and the EU on these issues. As a strong supporter of the Paris Agreement, but also as the world’s top emitter of carbon dioxide, China has a crucial role to play in pushing forward implementation of the Paris targets. Despite its high emissions, China remains one of the few major economies on track to meet its targets,[3] giving it greater leverage to peer review other parties’ efforts.

A recent report by the UK parliament’s Foreign Affairs Committee (FAC), on China and the rules-based international order, noted that where a body of trust and goodwill is developed with China, there is the possibility of discovering interests that coincide and the ability to work together on issues mutually regarded as of global importance. The report refers to a number of success stories from UK partnership with China in multilateral forums, including in counterproliferation and global health.[4]

Developing areas of global governance

As well as working with the current system, China is increasingly involved in the shaping of newer areas of international law – whether it be submissions to the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) on procedural rules for the emerging deep-sea mining regime or pitching for a greater role in Arctic governance.[5]

This enthusiasm should be harnessed to promote the international rule of law, but at the same time there needs to be recognition of the strategic goals that drive China’s engagement. China’s interest in the Arctic, while including the desire to protect its ecology and environment, is also about access to marine resources, as well as about the Arctic’s strategic potential for China’s military.

China’s submissions to ITLOS on the rules of procedure for deep-sea mining are constructive, but also reflect an ambition to secure first-mover advantage when commercial mining eventually takes place. Like other major powers working in this policy area, China’s actions are guided by self-interest, but that doesn’t mean its goals can’t be pursued through multilateral rules.

China is also interested in creating new international structures and instruments that further its strategic aims. For example, with Russia (through the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation) it has proposed an International Code of Conduct for Information Security in the UN.[6]

China is also pondering an array of options for dispute-resolution mechanisms for its Belt and Road projects, including the possibility of an Asian version of the international Convention on the Settlement of Investment Disputes, which might sit under the auspices of the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB).[7]

The creation of new instruments and institutions need not be a threat to the rules-based international order in itself. We have already seen a combination of the creation of parallel complementary regimes alongside the reform of existing institutions, for example in development financing through the AIIB or the New Development Bank (often referred to as the ‘BRICS Bank’); these two banks are relatively conventionally structured along the lines of Western-dominated institutions, albeit with greater Chinese control. Based on these examples, selective adaptation seems more likely than a hostile ‘Eastphalian’ takeover.[8]

Risks

There is, however, a real risk that in certain areas China may promote a rival authoritarian model of governance, assisted by an opportunistic convergence with Russia on issues such as human rights, development and internet governance. In areas where China’s core interests clash with those of the rules-based international order, China has shown itself to be unbending, as in its refusal to abide by the July 2016 decision of the Permanent Court of Arbitration in its dispute with the Philippines over the South China Sea.[9]

China is becoming more assertive at the UN, but while it seeks to project itself there as a responsible emerging global leader, it is promoting a vision that weakens international norms of human rights, transparency and accountability,[10] while also carrying out practices domestically that raise serious human rights concerns (not least the detention of hundreds of thousands of Uighurs in re-education camps in Xinjiang).[11]

China’s increased dominance geographically and geopolitically through its Belt and Road infrastructure projects carries with it a number of social and economic risks, including smaller states becoming trapped in unsustainable financial debts to China.

But at a recent Chatham House conference on Asia and international law, participants highlighted the limitations on how far China can shape an alternative governance model.[12] China currently lacks soft power, cultural power and language power, all of which are needed in order to embed an alternative model abroad. China also currently lacks capacity and confidence to build coalitions with other states in the UN.

Where it has tried to get buy-in from the international community for its new institutions, such as the China International Commercial Court (CICC) announced in July 2018, there has been scepticism about the standards to be applied.[13] Unless the court can demonstrate sufficient due process, international parties are likely to prefer other centres with a strong reputation for upholding the rule of law, such as those in London, Dubai and Singapore.

Where China does promote its own governance model at the expense of the rules-based international order, states are starting to push back, often in concert. EU member states so far have adopted a joined-up approach to the Belt and Road Initiative. With the exception of Italy, they have refused to sign a Memorandum of Understanding on participation unless China provides much greater transparency on its compliance with international standards.

The EU also recently presented a coordinated response to China on the situation in Xinjiang.[14] Similarly, members of the so-called ‘Five Eyes’ intelligence-sharing alliance (comprising Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the UK and the US) have acted together in relation to certain incidents of cyber interference attributed to China.[15]

There are also signs of pushback from smaller states closer to home in relation to challenges to national sovereignty, debt diplomacy and financial viability arising from Belt and Road projects. The Sri Lankan government recently reversed the award of a $300 million housing deal to China, instead opting for a joint venture with an Indian company.

China has been downscaling its investments as a way to counter some of the backlash it has received: the most recent Belt and Road summit put forward a more modest set of aspirations. This suggests that there is some scope for states to stand up to China and use leverage to secure better deals.

Many international institutions have been Western-dominated for years;[16] China, together with many emerging and middle powers, has felt for some time that the international architecture does not reflect the world we live in. Given that context, states that champion the rules-based international order should acknowledge China’s desire to update the international order to reflect greater multipolarity, globalization and technological change, while being clear-eyed about their engagement with China. This involves investing in a proper understanding of China and how it works.[17]

Where possible, cooperation with China should lead to outcomes that are backed up by international standards and transparency. The above-mentioned FAC report cites evidence that the UK’s support, and that of other developed countries, had a positive impact in shaping the governance and standards of the AIIB.[18] China has brought in international experts to advise on disputes before the CIIC, which may reassure would-be litigants.

China’s relationship with the rules-based international order needs to be assessed pragmatically and dynamically. China can be a valuable partner in many areas where its objectives are closely aligned with those of the international community – from trade to climate change to peacekeeping.

But where the country’s core interests are at odds with those of the wider international community, an increasingly confident China will strongly resist pressure, including on the South China Sea and human rights. In these areas, states supportive of international law can most powerfully push back through alliances and by ensuring that their own core values are not compromised in the interests of economic benefits.

Notes

[1] Chalmers, M. (2019), Which Rules? Why There is No Single ‘Rules-Based International System’, RUSI Occasional Paper, April 2019, London: Royal United Services Institute, https://rusi.org/occasional-papers/Which-Rules-Why-There-Is-No-Single-Rules-Based-International-System.

[2] See, for example, Moynihan, H. (2017), China’s Evolving Approach to International Dispute Settlement, Briefing, London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publication/chinas-evolving-approach-international-dispute-settlement.

[3] UN Environment (2018), Emissions Gap Report 2018, p. XVII, https://www.unenvironment.org/resources/emissions-gap-report-2018.

[4] House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee (2019), China and the Rules-Based International System: Sixteenth Report of Session 2017–19, p. 32, https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm201719/cmselect/cmfaff/612/612.pdf.

[5] Moynihan, H. (2018), ‘China Expands Its Global Governance Ambitions in the Arctic’, Expert Comment, 15 October 2018, https://www.chathamhouse.org/expert/comment/china-expands-its-global-governance-ambitions-arctic.

[6] Updated version proposed 9 January 2015.

[7] Moynihan, H. (2018), ‘Exploring Public International Law Issues with Chinese Scholars – Part Four’, Meeting Summary, 3 June 2018, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publication/exploring-public-international-law-issues-chinese-scholars-part-four.

[8] Chatham House (2019, forthcoming, ‘Security and Prosperity in the Asia-Pacific: The Role of International Law’, conference summary, https://www.chathamhouse.org/event/security-and-prosperity-asia-pacific-role-international-law.

[9] Permanent Court of Arbitration Case No. 2013-19 (Philippines v China), Award of 12 July 2016, https://pca-cpa.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/6/2016/07/PH-CN-20160712-Award.pdf.

[10] Piccone, T. (2018), China’s Long Game on Human Rights at the United Nations, Washington, DC: Brookings Institution, https://www.brookings.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/FP_20181009_china_human_rights.pdf.

[11] Wye, R. (2018), ‘‘The entire Uyghur population is seemingly being treated as suspect’: China’s persecution of its Muslim minority’, LSE Religion and Global Society blog, 18 September 2018, https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/religionglobalsociety/2018/09/the-entire-uyghur-population-is-seemingly-being-treated-as-suspect-chinas-persecution-of-its-muslim-minority/.

[12] Chatham House (2019, forthcoming, ‘Security and Prosperity in the Asia-Pacific: The Role of International Law’.

[13] Walters, M. (2018), ‘Jury is out over China’s new commercial court, say lawyers’, Law Society Gazette, 1 November 2018, https://www.lawgazette.co.uk/law/jury-is-out-over-chinas-new-commercial-court-say-lawyers/5068125.article.

[14] The Economist (2019), ‘Hope remains for Western solidarity. Look at embassies in Beijing’, 17 April 2019, https://www.economist.com/china/2019/04/20/hope-remains-for-western-solidarity-look-at-embassies-in-beijing.

[15] In December 2018, the Five Eyes attributed the activities of a Chinese cyber espionage group targeting intellectual property and sensitive commercial property to China’s Ministry of State Security.

[16] Roberts, A. (2017), Is International Law International?, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

[17] Parton, C. (2019), China–UK Relations: Where to Draw the Border Between Influence and Interference?, RUSI Occasional Paper, February 2019, London: Royal United Services Institute, p. 30, https://rusi.org/publication/occasional-papers/china-uk-relations-where-draw-border-between-influence-and.

[18] House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee (2019), China and the Rules-Based International System, p. 15.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

The UK Supreme Court’s ruling last Wednesday has, at least temporarily, scuppered the prime minister’s plans to limit parliamentary debate before the looming Brexit deadline. Some of the prime minister’s allies have attacked the ruling as a ‘constitutional coup’. But a close reading reveals that the court has stayed within its remit to interpret, rather than make, the law.

In a carefully reasoned judgment, the court emphasized that the case was not about Brexit. But the judges certainly did not shy away from the extraordinary nature of the matters before it, noting that such factual situations have ‘never arisen before and are unlikely ever to arise again… But our law is used to rising to such challenges and supplies us with the legal tools to enable us to reason to a solution.’

The key question before the court was whether the prime minister’s decision to seek prorogation was ‘justiciable’ – i.e. amenable to being reviewed by a court. The English and Scottish courts earlier on in these proceedings had come, dramatically, to opposing views on this.

The Supreme Court was not dissuaded by the inherently political considerations involved in the prime minister’s decision, stating that while ‘courts cannot decide political questions, the fact that a legal dispute concerns the conduct of politicians, or arises from a matter of political controversy, has never been sufficient reason for the courts to refuse to consider it’.

The court went on to emphasize that the Crown’s remaining prerogative powers (exercised on the advice of the government or directly by ministers) have long been subject to judicial scrutiny; such oversight is essential to guarding the separation of powers underpinning the UK’s constitution.

So far, so conventional. The full bench of the Supreme Court was required to grapple, though, with a prerogative power that had never been tested before in the courts. And so they delved back to the 1611 Case of Proclamations: ‘the King hath no prerogative, but that which the law of the land allow him’. In the court’s view, the legal issue to be resolved was the scope of the power to prorogue (the existence of this particular prerogative not being in dispute).

With no case law available to provide direct guidance on this question, the court, instead, relied on two fundamental principles of the UK’s constitution – parliamentary sovereignty and parliamentary accountability. What would be the logical consequence of an unlimited power to prorogue? The ability to shut parliament permanently.

The conclusion: this particular prerogative power had limits. The court held that:

‘A decision to prorogue Parliament (or to advise the monarch to prorogue Parliament) will be unlawful if the prorogation has the effect of frustrating or preventing, without reasonable justification, the ability of Parliament to carry out its constitutional functions as a legislature and as the body responsible for the supervision of the executive. In such a situation, the court will intervene if the effect is sufficiently serious to justify such an exceptional course.’

Having come to this conclusion, the court was left to examine what justification had in fact been given, noting that the prime minister’s motives were irrelevant. It noted that no clear reason had been given – the relevant documents were all concerned with preparing for the Queen’s speech.

Noting evidence on normal practice for such preparations, including from a former prime minister, the court found it ‘impossible… to conclude…that there was any reason – let alone a good reason – to advise Her Majesty to prorogue Parliament for five weeks’.

The court’s decision was neither inevitable nor a radical departure from legal tradition. It represents the gradual evolution of the long-established legal principle that the crown’s powers are set by the law and supervised by the courts.

Courts have traditionally been reticent to rule on prerogative powers which are ‘high politics’ by nature – classic examples include declaring war and negotiating treaties. In recent years, though, the judiciary has shown a growing confidence to grapple with the contours of those prerogative powers that remain. Deference is still shown when looking at how those powers have been used as opposed to the limits of the prerogative in question.

The Supreme Court ruling won’t reassure those who worry about the emergence of an activist court willing to wade (improperly) into the political arena. Nor will it necessarily bring comfort to those anxious about an unwritten constitution in an era where political conventions are fast unravelling.

But divisive court rulings are nothing new, nor are ministerial outbursts about inconvenient judgments. In the current environment, politicians should take particular care not to send mixed messages which undermine the independence of the UK’s judiciary. Public trust in British institutions is dangerously low and the UK can ill-afford further damage to its reputation as a country steeped in democracy and the rule of law.

International law applies to cyber operations – but views differ on exactly how. Does state-sponsored interference in another state's affairs using cyber means – for example,  disinformation campaigns in elections, disabling government websites, or disrupting transport systems – breach international law? If so, on what basis and how are the principles of sovereignty and non-intervention relevant? States are increasingly attributing cyber operations to other states and engaging in the debate on how international law applies, including circumstances that would justify countermeasures.

As states meet to debate these issues at the UN, the panel will explore how international law regulates cyberoperations by states, consider the prospects of progress at the UN, and assess the value of other initiatives.

This event coincides with the launch of a Chatham House research paper which analyses how the principles of sovereignty and intervention apply in the context of cyberoperations, and considers a way forward for agreeing a common understanding of cyber norms.

This event will bring together a broad group of actors, including policymakers, the private sector, legal experts and civil society, and will be followed by a drinks reception.

 

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.

Summary

• The vast majority of state-to-state cyberattacks consist of persistent, low-level intrusions that take place below the threshold of use of force. International law, including the principle of non-intervention in another state’s internal affairs and the principle of sovereignty, applies to these cyber operations.
• It is not clear whether any unauthorized cyber intrusion would violate the target state’s sovereignty, or whether there is a threshold in operation. While some would like to set limits by reference to effects of the cyber activity, at this time such limits are not reflected in customary international law. The assessment of whether sovereignty has been violated therefore has to be made on a case by case basis, if no other more specific rules of international law apply.
• In due course, further state practice and opinio iuris may give rise to an emerging cyber-specific understanding of sovereignty, just as specific rules deriving from the sovereignty principle have crystallized in other areas of international law.
• Before a principle of due diligence can be invoked in the cyber context, further work is needed by states to agree upon rules as to what might be expected of a state in this context.
• The principle of non-intervention applies to a state’s cyber operations as it does to other state activities. It consists of coercive behaviour by one state that deprives the target state of its free will in relation to the exercise of its sovereign functions in order to compel an outcome in, or conduct with respect to, a matter reserved to the target state.
• In practice, activities that contravene the non-intervention principle and activities that violates sovereignty will often overlap.
• In order to reach agreement on how international law applies to states’ cyber operations below the level of use of force, states should put their views on record, where possible giving examples of when they consider that an obligation may be breached, as states such as the UK, Australia, France and the Netherlands have done.
• Further discussion between states should focus on how the rules apply to practical examples of state-sponsored cyber operations. There is likely to be more commonality about specific applications of the law than there is about abstract principles.
• The prospects of a general treaty in this area are still far off. In due course, there may be benefit in considering limited rules, for example on due diligence and a prohibition on attacking critical infrastructure, before tackling broad principles.

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.

Video: Marianne Schneider-Petsinger and Dr Yu Jie discuss key themes from the research paper

Summary

• The underlying driver of the ongoing US–China trade war is a race for global technological dominance. President Trump has raised a number of issues regarding trade with China – including the US’s trade deficit with China and the naming of China as a currency manipulator. But at the heart of the ongoing tariff escalation are China’s policies and practices regarding forced technology transfer, intellectual property theft and non-market distortions.
• As China’s international influence has expanded it has always been unlikely that Beijing would continue to accept existing global standards and institutions established and widely practised by developed countries based on ‘the Washington Consensus’.
• China’s desire to be an alternative champion of technology standard-setting remains unfulfilled. Its ample innovation talent is a solid foundation in its quest for global technology supremacy but tightening controls over personal freedoms could undermine it and deter potential global partners.
• It is unclear if Chinese government interventions will achieve the technological self-sufficiency Beijing has long desired. China’s approach to macroeconomic management diverges significantly from that of the US and other real market economies, particularly in its policy towards nurturing innovation.
• Chinese actors are engaged in the globalization of technological innovation through exports and imports of high-tech goods and services; cross-border investments in technology companies and research and development (R&D) activities; cross-border R&D collaboration; and international techno-scientific research collaboration.
• While the Chinese state pushes domestic companies and research institutes to engage in the globalization of technological innovation, its interventions in the high-tech sector have caused uneasiness in the West.
• The current US response to its competition with China for technological supremacy, which leans towards decoupling, is unlikely to prove successful. The US has better chances of success if it focuses on America’s own competitiveness, works on common approaches to technology policy with like-minded partners around the globe and strengthens the international trading system.
• A technically sound screening mechanism of foreign investment can prevent normal cross-border collaboration in technological innovation from being misused by geopolitical rival superpowers.

The US and China have entered into an increasingly confrontational relationship over trade and technology. This may force Europe to make difficult choices between the two economic superpowers – or perform a balancing act. Although the recent US-China phase-1 trade deal has eased the relationship for now, the trade and technology tensions are a structural issue and are likely to persist.

The debate over Huawei’s participation in 5G networks is an example of how the UK and other countries may face competing priorities in economic, security and foreign policy. Can Europe avoid a binary choice between the US and China? Is it possible for the EU to position itself as a third global power in trade, technology and standard-setting? What strategies should Europeans adopt to keep the US and China engaged in the rules-based international order and what does the future hold for trade multilateralism?

Sir Simon Fraser will join us for a discussion on Europe’s future role between the US and China. Sir Simon is Managing Partner of Flint Global and Deputy Chairman of Chatham House. He previously served as Permanent Secretary at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) and Head of the UK Diplomatic Service from 2010 to 2015. Prior to that he was Permanent Secretary at the UK Department for Business, Innovation and Skills. He has also served as Director General for Europe in the FCO and Chief of Staff to European Trade Commissioner Peter Mandelson.

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

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.

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 Inaugural Virtual Roundtable Series on the US, Americas and the State of the World and will take place virtually only.  Participants should not come to Chatham House for these events.

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.

The lack of political will to carry out rule of law reforms is frequently the reason why reforms are not fully implemented. The case of Moldova proves that in societies where strong vested interests still persist, political savviness is equally as important as political will.

Old and new political power brokers in Moldova struck a fragile pact in June to oust Vladimir Plahotniuc. Plahotniuc had built a network of corruption and patronage with the help of the Democratic Party, which he treated as a personal vehicle and which allowed him and a small economic elite circle to enrich themselves off of government institutions and state-owned enterprises, to the detriment of Moldovan citizens and the health of their political process.

Maia Sandu, co-leader of the pro-reform ACUM electoral bloc, then formed a technocratic government with a remit to implement Moldova’s lagging reform agenda. Though made up of ministers with the integrity and political will to implement difficult transformational reforms, its biggest weakness was its coalition partner – the pro-Russian Socialists’ Party and its informal leader, Igor Dodon, the president of Moldova.

Now the Socialists – threatened by how key reforms to the justice system would impact their interests – have joined forces with Plahotniuc’s former allies, the Democratic Party, to oust ACUM, exploiting the party’s lack of political savviness. 

Reform interrupted

It was always clear the coalition would be short-lived. President Dodon and the co-ruling Socialists joined to buy themselves time, with the hope that they could restrict the most far-reaching reforms and tie the hands of ACUM ministers. In less than five months, however, the Sandu government initiated key reforms in the judicial system, aimed at dismantling Plahotniuc’s networks of patronage but also impacting the Socialists, who to a large degree also profited from the previous status quo.

The red line came over a last-minute change in the selection process of the prosecutor general proposed by Sandu on 6 November, which the Socialists claimed was unconstitutional and gave them the justification to put forward a motion of no confidence in the Sandu government. This was conveniently supported by the Democratic Party, who appeared threatened by an independent prosecutor’s office and saw an opportunity to return to power.

Thus, the political will to reform proved insufficient in the absence of a clear strategy on how to address the concerns of the old regime that they would be prosecuted and their vested interests threatened. Here, ACUM’s lack of political experience let them down. With their hands tied from the beginning in a fragile coalition with the Socialists, ACUM were unable to prevent sabotage from within state institutions and their own coalition, and could not find consensus to proceed with more radical methods to tackle corruption.

Less than two days after the Sandu government was out, a new government was sworn in on 14 November. Prime Minister Ion Chicu was an adviser to President Dodon before taking office and former minister of finance under the Plahotniuc-backed government of Pavel Filip, as part of a cabinet of ministers consisting largely of other presidential advisers and former high-level bureaucrats and ministers from the Plahotniuc era. 

The new government

A top priority for the Chicu government is to convince the international community that it is independent from President Dodon, and that its ‘technocrats’ will keep the course of reforms of the Sandu government. This is critical to preserving the financial assistance of Western partners, which the Moldovan government heavily relies on, particularly with a presidential election campaign next year, when they will likely want to create fiscal space for various giveaways to voters.

But within its first week in office, Chicu appears incapable of walking this line. Reverting to the initially proposed pre-selection process of prosecutor general signals that the post could be filled by a loyal appointee of President Dodon. Moreover, Chicu’s first visit abroad was to Russia, allegedly a major financial contributor of the Socialists’ Party. With the Socialists now holding the presidency, government, Chisinau mayoralty, and the parliament speaker’s seat, the danger of an increased Russian influence on key political decisions is very real.

A government steered by President Dodon risks bringing Moldova back to where it was before June, with a political elite mimicking reforms while misusing power for private gains. The biggest danger is that instead of continuing the reform process to bring Moldova back on its European integration path, the new government may focus on strengthening the old patronage system, this time with President Dodon at the top of the pyramid.

Lessons

This new minority government, supported by the Democrats, is a more natural one for President Dodon and therefore has more chances to survive, at least until presidential elections in autumn of 2020. Both the Socialists and the Democrats will likely seek to use this time to rebuild their own methods of capturing state resources. But with the Socialists relying on the Democrats’ votes in parliament, this is a recipe for further political instability.

Similar to Moldova, several other states across the post-Soviet space such as Ukraine and Armenia have had new political forces come to power with the political will and mandate to carry out difficult reforms to strengthen rule of law and fight systemic corruption in their countries. What they all have in common is the lack of political experience of how to create change, while old elites, used to thinking on their feet to defend their vested interests, retain their connections and economic and political influence.

Moldova is a good example of why political will needs to be backed up by clear strategy on how to deal with threatened vested interests in order for new political forces to be able to maintain themselves in power and reforms to be sustainable. When the chance comes again for fresh leaders to come to power, it is importantthey are politically prepared to use it swiftly and wisely.

Summary

• Russia’s economic management is currently praised for its achievement of macroeconomic stability. Inflation has been brought down; the budget is in surplus; national debt is low; and the reserves are ample. At the same time, there is much criticism of the failure at present to secure more than very slow economic growth.
• The macro-stabilization of 2014–18 was of a conventional, ‘liberal’ kind. Public spending was cut, and a budget rule was introduced that (so far) has weakened the link between increases in oil prices and increases in budgetary expenditure. The austerity campaign was harsh. Pensioners, the military, regional budgets and business all lost out, but in reality put up little resistance. The austerity drive was facilitated by the autocratic nature of the regime.
• The growth slowdown dates from 2012, and cannot simply be blamed on falls in the oil price and sanctions. Rapid growth in 1999–2008 consisted in large part of recovery from the deep recession of the 1990s and the initial development of a services sector. These sources of growth are no longer available; investment is low; and the labour force is declining. The Western world also has a slow growth problem, but at a higher level of per capita output. In Russia, private investment and competition are inhibited by an intrusive and corrupt state. If the rule of law were in place, the economy would perform better in the long run. That would require a profound reform of formal and informal institutions.
• The leadership wants faster growth, but has powerful incentives not to embark on systemic reform. Even the pragmatic ministers of the ‘economic bloc’ of government, who understand the problem, share this interest in maintaining the status quo. Growth is thus being sought through a highly ambitious programme, in 2018–24, of ‘national projects’, state-led and largely state-financed. This is already running into difficulties.
• The contrast between successful stabilization and a (so far) unsuccessful growth strategy illustrates the difference between policymaking within a given system and reform of that system. Systemic reform brings with it more potential unintended consequences than do changes in policy. In the case of Russia, movement towards a rule of law could destabilize the social and political system. It is therefore unlikely to be attempted.