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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This article was originally published in the Financial Times.

In the five months since the last extension of the Brexit deadline, the questions about the UK’s trading relationship with the EU remain as open as before, as do those about what sort of relationship it should seek with other partners.

The world has not stood still, however, and so the UKTPO is convening another panel to consider constructive ways of moving forward. The panel will discuss potential trajectories for UK trade policy, followed by a question and answer session.

The UK Trade Policy Observatory (UKTPO) is a partnership between Chatham House and the University of Sussex which provides independent expert comment on, and analysis of, trade policy proposals for the UK as well as training for British policymakers through tailored training packages.

The upcoming UK general election is arguably a 'Brexit election', and as such, whoever wins the election will have little time to get their strategy for Brexit up and running to meet the new Brexit deadline of 31 January 2020. But what are the political parties’ policies for the UK's future trade? This event will present and discuss what the five main parties’ manifestos imply for future UK trade. Each manifesto will be presented and analysed by a fellow of the UK Trade Policy Observatory (UKTPO) and will be followed by a Q&A session. 

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.

An infectious disease outbreak has long been a top national security risk in several countries, but the speed and extent of COVID-19’s spread and the scale of its social and economic impact has come as an enormous and deeply worrying shock.

This pandemic is not just a global medical and economic emergency. It could also prove a decisive make-or-break point for today’s system of global political and economic cooperation.

This system was built up painstakingly after 1945 as a response to the beggar-thy-neighbour economic policies of the 1930s which led to the Second World War. But it has been seriously weakened recently as the US and China have entered a more overt phase of strategic competition, and as they and a number of the other most important global and regional players have pursued their narrowly defined self-interest.

Now, the disjointed global economic response to COVID-19, with its enormous ramifications for global prosperity and economic stability, has blown into the open the urgent need for an immediate reaffirmation of international political and economic cooperation.

What is needed is a clear, coordinated and public statement from the leaders of the world’s major countries affirming the many things on which they do already agree, and some on which they should be able to agree.

In particular that:

• they will give the strongest possible support for the WHO in leading the medical response internationally;
• they will be transparent and tell the truth to their peoples about the progress of the disease and the threat that it represents;
• they will work together and with the international financial institutions to provide businesses, particularly SMEs, and individuals whatever support they need to get through the immediate crisis and avoid long-term damage to the global economy; 
• they will ensure the financial facilities for crisis support to countries - whether at global or regional level - have whatever resources they need to support countries in difficulty;
• they will avoid new protectionist policies - whether in trade or finance;
• they commit not to forget the poor and vulnerable in society and those least able to look after themselves.

Such a statement could be made by G20 leaders, reflecting the group’s role since 2010 as the premier forum for international economic cooperation.

But it could be even more appropriate coming from the UN Security Council, recognising that COVID-19 is much more than an economic challenge; and also reflecting the practical fact, in a time when international travel is restricted, the UNSC has an existing mechanism in New York to negotiate and quickly agree such a statement.

A public statement by leading countries could do a great deal to help arrest a growing sense of powerlessness among citizens and loss of confidence among businesses worldwide as the virus spreads.

It could also set a new course for international political and economic cooperation, not just in relation to the virus, but also other global threats with potentially devastating consequences for economic growth and political stability in the coming years.

The Egyptian military accounts for far less of the national economy than is commonly believed but transformations in its role and scope since 2013 have turned it into an autonomous economic actor that can reshape markets and influence government policy and investment strategies. Will the military economy contract to its former enclave status if Egypt achieves successful economic growth or has it acquired a permanent stake that it will defend or even expand?

This roundtable will mark the London launch of a Carnegie Middle East Center report on Egypt’s military economy. The report author, Yezid Sayigh, will begin the discussion with remarks on Egypt’s military economy model and offer thoughts on how external actors can engage the country’s formal and informal networks. David Butter will serve as discussant and the roundtable will be moderated by Lina Khatib.

To attend this event, please e-mail Reni Zhelyazkova. 

To understand Lebanon’s financial collapse, look to its politics.

The country has been deeply damaged by an increasingly dysfunctional political system. A series of compromises have alienated it from its main markets in the Gulf and strangled its economy; anyone that has glanced at fluctuations in Lebanese bank deposits over the last 10 years can see the correlation.

Imagine if Boris Johnson or Donald Trump were obliged to form joint governments with Jeremy Corbyn or Bernie Sanders. The result would be paralysis and lack of accountability as each party pulls the country in opposite directions and blames the other for the state of limbo. This has been the state of affairs in Lebanon since the Doha agreement of 2008. 

That agreement followed an 18-month siege that paralyzed Beirut and an attack on the city by Hezbollah’s ‘black shirts’. The Doha formula imposed governments of national unity between Prime Minister Saad Hariri’s pro-Saudi camp and Hezbollah’s pro-Iran camp and their respective internal allies.

The pattern was set: each period of subsequent paralysis was followed by further compromise as the tug of war pulled the country away from its principal economic partners, the Arab Gulf states, with the regional balance of power tilting towards Hezbollah. 

It was not supposed to be like this. The Baabda Declaration in June 2012, reached after a process of national dialogue, was meant to secure Lebanon’s neutrality in regional conflicts, with both sides promising to hold back on external alliances and coexist despite difference over major regional issues like the war in Syria, the standoff between the US and Iran or relations with Israel or the Gulf states.

This has worn away. The Baabda declaration itself became a sham when Hezbollah inserted itself into the war in Syria in support of the Assad regime and overtly got involved in Iraq and Yemen as an Iranian proxy. This was followed by Saudi opposition to concessions by Hariri that led to the election of General Michel Aoun, an ally of Hezbollah, as president in October 2016; again, after a political paralysis that lasted 29 months with no active government and no head of state.  

The Saudis were also furious when President Aoun’s son-in-law, Foreign Minister Gebran Bassil, abstained from condemning the burning of the Saudi embassy in Tehran at an Arab League meeting in Cairo in January 2016, citing the need to preserve national unity.

Fearing that he was simply providing Hezbollah with protection in the guise of compromise, the Saudis pressured Hariri to resign in November 2017 during a trip to Riyadh, but he later challenged that by retracting on his resignation when back in Beirut. Lebanon was caught between two sides, and as the regional conflict intensified from tension to open confrontation, neutrality was no longer an option.

Gulf connections

An estimated 350,000 Lebanese expats live and work in Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Qatar and Kuwait. These countries are also the main clients for Lebanese contractors, consultants and advertising companies, some of which have offices there. The domestic tourism industry relies heavily on Arab Gulf visitors and they are a principal source of foreign investments especially in the real estate sector.

Lebanon also enjoyed a certain degree of political and economic protection from the US and the Gulf, and Hezbollah benefited indirectly from that protection, as it also shielded it to a certain degree from sanctions.

The deterioration of relations meant that the country was cut off by its Gulf partners. This was manifested in travel bans for Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) nationals to Lebanon and a decrease in investments and bank deposits, as well as a decrease in remittances from Lebanese expats, partly because of economic crisis in the Gulf countries themselves.

Saudi Arabia withdrew $4 billion of aid to the Lebanese army and internal security forces, and no aid or deposits were forthcoming as the economic and financial situation deteriorated. 

The costs to the Lebanese economy include the opportunity cost created by the annual threat of war with Israel, after which trips are cancelled and projects postponed. Hezbollah also controls a section of Beirut port where it pays no duty or taxes. Add to that the economic fallout from the war in Syria, such as the impact on exports, the inflow of refugees and the cost of Hezbollah’s involvement.

The burden of these political factors is difficult to estimate but it constitutes the ransom that the Lebanese economy bears as a cost of the compromise. This is not to absolve Lebanese politicians from corruption or bankers of mismanagement but to add that political factors cannot be ignored.

The cumulative cost and economic impact of being cut off from its main economic partner eventually bankrupted the country. The fiscal and financial aspects, with Lebanon’s inability to service its debt, are but a reflection of these political factors. In the long run, the key to avoiding complete collapse is to restore relations with the GCC and free Lebanon from that very costly grip.

Since the overthrow of the regime of Muammar Gaddafi in 2011, Libya’s multitude of armed groups have followed a range of paths. While many of these have gradually demobilized, others have remained active, and others have expanded their influence. In the west and south of the country,  armed groups have used their state affiliation to co-opt the state and professionals from the state security apparatus into their ranks.

In the east, the Libyan Arab Armed Forces projects a nationalist narrative yet is ultimately subservient to its leader, Field Marshal Khalifa Haftar. Prevailing policy narratives presuppose that the interests of armed actors are distinct from those of the communities they claim to represent. Given the degree to which most armed groups are embedded in local society, however, successful engagement will need to address the fears, grievances and desires of the surrounding communities, even while the development of armed groups’ capacities dilutes their accountability to those communities.

This roundtable will discuss the findings of a forthcoming Chatham House research paper, ‘The Development of Libyan Armed Groups Since 2014: Community Dynamics and Economic Interests’, which presents insights from over 200 interviews of armed actors and members of local communities and posits how international policymakers might seek to curtail the continued expansion of the conflict economy.

PLEASE NOTE THIS EVENT IS POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

Russia’s Middle East policy is driven by a complex mixture of traditional factors (such as the ongoing confrontation with the West) and new trends. The Kremlin is keen to maintain its position as an influential external broker. However, it is not confident Russia would be able to respond effectively if forced into a reactive mode by other regional players. The Kremlin therefore seeks to retain initiative and shape the agenda according to its needs and resources. This makes prediction of Moscow’s next moves in the region a challenging, but not impossible, task.

Nikolay Kozhanov will offer remarks on the changes that have taken place in Russia’s strategy since the publication of his research paper Russian Policy Across the Middle East: Motivations and Methods (2018).

PLEASE NOTE THIS EVENT IS POSTPONED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

As Lebanon strains to contain COVID-19, it is not clear which governmental public health policies apply to refugees. The government announced free testing for coronavirus in the public Rafiq Hariri University Hospital in Beirut but has not mentioned if refugees are eligible.

Lebanon’s coronavirus containment strategy is based on self-reporting and, given incidents of forced deportation and harassment of Syrian refugees from both the authorities and local communities, it is certainly less likely refugees would present themselves to the health authorities for fear of deportation.

Despite agreeing a Lebanon Crisis Response Plan with the UN for refugees, different ministries were left to implement it without coordination, just as Lebanese politicians from all sides started trying to rally popular support for ridding Lebanon from refugees - in particular from Syria, who Lebanese leaders say are causing a strain on the country’s already weak infrastructure.

This finger pointing is coupled with the leaders’ own complete disregard for the rampant corruption and lack of accountability within Lebanon’s political class, which contribute to the weakening of the country’s infrastructure.

For refugees who do find themselves back in Syria, there are different challenges according to which area they are in. In the north-east, the WHO and international NGOs (INGOs) negotiate with both Kurdish authorities as well as the government - each presenting its own hurdles.

Kurdish authorities in northeast Syria have closed the Semalka border with Iraqi Kurdistan, posing a serious dilemma for INGOs offering services in north-east Syria but concerned about their staff safety whose movement is now curtailed.

The government of Syria has stipulated all emergency response must go through its ministries. But this limits what the WHO can do in the country and gives Syrian authorities the ability to block ‘cross-line aid’ which goes from government-controlled to non-government areas.

Despite reports that doctors raised the alarm about suspected cases well before patient zero was confirmed, the government appears to be either covering up the actual extent of the spread of COVID-19 or failing to respond. Some limited testing kits have arrived but testing has barely started.

The WHO’s Syria plan is divided into three regions (north-west, north-east, and areas under government control). But concerns remain as to how workable such a decentralized plan is because of the government’s practices. In January, the UN Security Council did not renew the cross-border response resolution for the Yaroubiye border crossing between Syria and Iraq that the WHO was using to send medical supplies into north-east Syria.

Syrian authorities do not permit recently authorized ‘cross-line’ responders to engage with non-government authorities in areas outside regime control. This essentially voids the authorization to work cross-line as it is practically impossible to implement programs. The WHO has sought approval from the Syrian Ministry of Foreign Affairs to move medical supplies by land to north-east Syria.

While promising facilitation, the Ministry’s reply comes with conditions of seeking detailed approval for every shipment. When Eastern Ghouta was under siege, similar conditions led to certain supplies being removed from UN/ICRC convoys to Eastern Ghouta, and there is no guarantee this will not happen again.

Due to lack of capacity in north-east Syria, coronavirus tests conducted by the WHO there must be processed through the Central Public Health Laboratory in Damascus. Samples are transported twice a week from Qamishli to Damascus but no results were ever received from Damascus for those tests.

While the WHO is able to coordinate access to north-west Syria with the Turkish authorities, the prospective coronavirus testing capacity in the Idlib region is low – despite claims that thousands of kits are arriving, a lack of resource on the ground means potentially only 20 tests per day could be done in an area inhabited by an estimated three million people.

Following the recently announced ceasefire in the area, many internally displaced people are returning from the Turkish border to their homes in the north-west, but such mass movement increases the risk of coronavirus spreading. People also continue to move between Syria, Iraq, Turkey and Lebanon, posing a challenge to the WHO’s COVID-19 response in the Levant, as the WHO has distinct response plans for each country in the region and it is difficult to coordinate across these plans.

Challenges face refugees even if they head towards Europe due to the potential for conflation between migration control and coronavirus outbreak control. Aurelie Ponthieu, Coordinator for Forced Migration at Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) says there is a risk some countries could use COVID-19 to impose draconian measures towards asylum seekers.

The crisis has also put a halt to search and rescue operations in the Mediterranean because European countries are not allowing boats carrying migrants to disembark under the pretext of limiting the spread of coronavirus. And for migrants who already made it - such as in Greece - they are now being put in collective quarantines in asylum centers, often with poor medical facilities.

Ponthieu also reports that migrants being quarantined on overcrowded navy ships docked in Greek ports, making social distancing impossible. And she is concerned the Greek authorities are imposing a curfew on asylum seekers but not on the local population.

UNHCR is stressing that people’s right of asylum must not be overruled by concerns about the spread of coronavirus, while local and international NGOs across the Levant are trying to coordinate their advocacy on lifting restrictions on freedom of movement for humanitarian workers and on other policies and practices by authorities in the region which are adversely affecting refugee and other vulnerable communities.

The international community must not lose sight of the impact of the crisis on refugees and migrants. It is not enough simply to supply humanitarian and medical assistance without paying attention to the policies and practices of the different authorities who have direct control over the fate of vulnerable communities.

The author would like to thank Aurelie Ponthieu and the two INGO field workers who all agreed to be interviewed to inform this analysis piece.

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

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

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

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

Historically, Iraq lay claim to one of the most abundant water supplies in the Middle East. But the flow of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers has reduced by up to 40% since the 1970s, due in part to the actions of neighbouring countries, in particular Turkey, upstream.

Rising temperatures and reduced rainfall due to climate change are also negatively impacting Iraq’s water reserves. Evaporation from dams and reservoirs is estimated to lose the country up to 8 billion cubic metres of water every year.

A threat to peace and stability

Shortages have dried up previously fertile land, increasing poverty in agricultural areas. Shortages have also served to fuel conflict: communities faced with successive droughts and government inertia proved to be easy targets for ISIS recruiters, who lured farmers into joining them by offering money and food to feed their families. Economic hardship for those whose livelihoods relied upon river water has also driven rural to urban migration, putting significant strain on already over-populated towns and cities, exacerbating housing, job and electricity shortages, and widening the gap between haves and have-nots.

But scarcity isn’t the most crucial element of Iraq’s water crisis – contamination is. Decades of local government mismanagement, corrupt practices and a lack of regulation of dumping (it is estimated up to 70% of Iraq’s industrial waste is dumped directly into water) has left approximately three in every five citizens without a reliable source of potable water.

In 2018, 118,000 residents of Basra province were hospitalised with symptoms brought on by drinking contaminated water, which not only put a spotlight on the inadequacies of a crumbling healthcare system but sparked mass protests and a subsequent violent crackdown.

The water crisis is also undermining the stability of the country’s federal governance model, by occasionally sparking disputes between Baghdad and the Kurdistan Regional Government, as well as between governorates in the south.

The crisis is both a symptom and a cause of poor governance. Iraq is stuck in a cycle whereby government inaction causes shortages and contamination, which result in economic losses, reduced food supply, increased prices and widespread poor health. This in turn leads to increasing levels of poverty, higher demand on services and civil unrest, increasing the pressure on a weak, dysfunctional system of government.

What can be done?

The first priority should be modernising existing water-management infrastructure - a relic of a time when the problem was an excess rather than a shortage of water (the last time Iraq’s flood defences were required was 1968). Bureaucratic hurdles, widespread corruption and an endless cycle of other crises taking precedent prevent good initiatives from being implemented or scaled up.

Diversifying energy sources to improve provision is crucial. Baghdad has a sewage treatment plant that originally ran on its own electricity source, but this capacity was destroyed in 1991 and was never replaced. The city continues to suffer from dangerous levels of water pollution because the electricity supply from the grid is insufficient to power the plant. Solar energy has great potential in sun-drenched Iraq to bridge the gaping hole in energy provision, but successive governments have chosen to focus on fossil fuels rather than promoting investment to grow the renewables sector.

Heightened tension with upstream Turkey could turn water into another cause of regional conflict. But, if approached differently, collaboration between Iraq and its neighbour could foster regional harmony.

Turkey’s elevated geography and cooler climate mean its water reserves suffer 75% less evaporation than Iraq’s. Given that Turkey’s top energy priority is the diversification of its supply of imported hydrocarbons, a win-win deal could see Turkey exchange access to its water-management infrastructure for delivery of reduced cost energy supplies from Iraq.

German-French cooperation on coal and steel in the 1950s and the evolution of economic integration that followed might provide a model for how bilateral cooperation over one issue could result in cooperation with other regional players (in this case Iran and Syria) on a range of other issues. This kind of model would need to consider the future of energy, whereby oil and gas would be replaced by solar-power exports.

These solutions have been open to policymakers for years and yet they have taken little tangible action. While there are leaders and bureaucrats with the will to act, effective action is invariably blocked by a complex and opaque political system replete with vested interests in maintaining power and wealth via a weak state and limited services from central government.

Breaking the cycle

To break this cycle, Iraq needs a group of professional and able actors outside of government to work with willing elements of the state bureaucracy as a taskforce to pressure for action and accountability. Publishing the recommendations from a hitherto withheld report produced in the aftermath of Basra’s 2018 heath crisis would be a great start.

In time, this taskforce could champion the prioritisation of water on the national agenda, the implementation of infrastructure upgrades, and hold more productive conversations with neighbour states.

With such a high degree of state fragmentation and dysfunction in Iraq, looking to the central government to provide leadership will not yield results. Engagement with a coalition of non-state actors can begin to address the water crisis and also open a dialogue around new models of governance for other critical issues. This might even be a starting point for rewriting the tattered social contract in Iraq.

This piece is based on insights and discussion at a roundtable event, Conflict and the Water Crisis in Iraq, held at Chatham House on March 9 as part of the Iraq Initiative.

COVID-19 has offered regimes in the region the opportunity to end popular protest. The squares of Algiers, Baghdad, and Beirut – all packed with protesters over the past few months – are now empty due to the pandemic, and political gatherings have also been suspended. In Algeria, Iraq and Lebanon, COVID-19 has achieved what snipers, pro-regime propaganda, and even the economic crisis, could not.

Moreover, political regimes have taken advantage of the crisis to expand their control over the political sphere by arresting their opponents, such as in Algeria where the authorities have cracked down on a number of active voices of the Hirak movement. Similarly, in Lebanon, security forces have used the pandemic as an excuse to crush sit-ins held in Martyr’s Square in Beirut and Nour Square in Tripoli.

However, despite the challenges that the pandemic has brought, it also offers opportunities for protest movements in the region. While the crisis has put an end to popular mobilization in the streets, it has  created new forms of activism in the shape of solidarity initiatives to help those affected by its consequences.

In Iraq, for example, protest groups have directed their work towards awareness-raising and sharing essential food to help mitigate the problem of food shortages and rising prices across the country. In Algeria, Hirak activists have run online campaigns to raise awareness about the virus and have encouraged people to stay at home. Others have been cleaning and disinfecting public spaces. These initiatives increase the legitimacy of the protest movement, and if coupled with political messages, could offer these movements an important chance to expand their base of popular support.

Exposes economic vulnerability

Economic grievances, corruption and poor provision of public services have been among the main concerns of this recent wave of protests. This pandemic only further exposes the levels of economic vulnerability in the region. COVID-19 is laying bare the socio-economic inequalities in MENA countries; this is particularly evident in the numbers of people engaged in the informal economy with no access to social security, including health insurance and pensions.

Informal employment, approximately calculated by the share of the labour force not contributing to social security, is estimated to amount to 65.5% of total employment in Lebanon, 64.4% in Iraq, and 63.3% in Algeria. The crisis has underscored the vulnerability of this large percentage of the labour force who have been unable to afford the economic repercussions of following state orders to stay at home.

The situation has also called attention to the vital need for efficient public services and healthcare systems. According to the fifth wave of the Arab Barometer, 74.4% of people in Lebanon are dissatisfied with their country’s healthcare services, as are 67.8% of people in Algeria and 66.5% in Iraq.

Meanwhile, 66.2% of people in Lebanon believe it is necessary to pay a bribe in order to receive better healthcare, as do 56.2% of people in Iraq and 55.9% in Algeria. The COVID-19 crisis has highlighted the need for more government investment in public healthcare systems to render them more efficient and less corrupt, strengthening the protesters’ case for the need for radical socio-economic reforms.

On the geopolitical level, the crisis puts into question the stability-focused approach of Western powers towards the region. For years, Western powers have directed their aid towards security forces in the interests of combating terrorism but COVID-19 has proved itself to be a much more lethal challenge to both the region and the West.

Facing this new challenge requires international actors to reconsider their approach to include supporting health and education initiatives, as well as freedom of expression and transparency. As argued by Western policymakers themselves, it was China’s lack of transparency and slow response that enabled the proliferation of the virus, when it could have been contained in Wuhan back in December 2019.

This crisis therefore offers regional protest movements the opportunity to capitalize on this moment and push back against the policies of Western powers that have invested in regional stability only to the extent of combating Islamic jihad. 

But crises do not change the world, people do. The COVID-19 pandemic will not in itself result in political change in the MENA region. Rather, it brings opportunities and risks that, when exploited, will allow political actors to advance their own agendas. While the crisis has put an end to popular mobilization and allowed regimes to tighten their grip over the political sphere, behind these challenges lie real opportunities for protest movements.

The current situation represents a possibility for them to expand their popular base through solidarity initiatives and has exposed more widely the importance of addressing socio-economic inequalities. Finally, it offers the chance to challenge the stability-focused approach of Western powers towards the region which until now has predominantly focused on combating terrorism.