• The 2016 Review on Antimicrobial Resistance has had a global impact: as an advocacy tool, in raising the profile of antimicrobial resistance (AMR) on the international agenda, and in helping to stimulate a number of new initiatives, in particular relating to the funding of early-stage research.
• However, there has been very little progress on the review’s central and most expensive recommendations for transforming research and development incentives for antibiotics, vaccines and diagnostics.
• There have been significant advances in reducing antibiotic use in agriculture, particularly in high-income countries, but there is a long way to go in low- and middle-income countries (LMICs).
• There has been greater investment in awareness raising but questions remain about its impact and effectiveness in changing behaviour.
• Proposals to restrict over-the-counter sales of antibiotics, as recommended by the Review, have foundered in the face of poor living conditions and access to healthcare in LMICs.
• A major reason for the use of antibiotics in LMICs is the prevalence of unhygienic conditions in the community and in healthcare facilities, which contribute to infection and limit the impact of messages about awareness and infection prevention and control.
• Providing quality healthcare to all and moving towards universal health coverage in LMICs will be crucial in addressing the problems of both adequate access to antibiotics and in restricting over-the-counter sales.
• A greater emphasis on investments in water, sanitation and housing will be central to reducing reliance on antibiotics in LMICs in the longer term. This agenda should inform the operations of governments and funding agencies such as the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank.
• Investments have been made in improving surveillance of antibiotic use and resistance, particularly for humans, but more effort is required to create surveillance systems that provide data sufficiently accurate to influence policy and action. This applies also to antibiotics and resistant genes circulating in the environment.
• The emerging innovations in the global governance of AMR need to lead to action rather than more words.

At the United Nations general assembly in September, all countries, including South Africa, reaffirmed their commitment to achieving universal health coverage by 2030. This is achieved when everybody accesses the health services they need without suffering financial hardship.

As governments outlined their universal health coverage plans, it was noticeable that some had made much faster progress than others, with some middle-income countries outperforming wealthier nations. For example, whereas Thailand, Ecuador and Georgia (with national incomes similar to South Africa) are covering their entire populations, in the United States, 30 million people still lack health insurance and expensive health bills are the biggest cause of personal bankruptcy.

The key factor in financing universal health coverage is, therefore, not so much the level of financing but rather how the health sector is financed. You cannot cover everyone through private financing (including insurance) because the poor will be left behind. Instead, the state must step in to force wealthy and healthy members of society to subsidise services for the sick and the poor.

Switching to a predominantly publicly financed health system is, therefore, a prerequisite for achieving universal health coverage.

The National Health Insurance (NHI) Bill, recently presented to parliament, is President Cyril Ramaphosa’s strategy to make this essential transition. In essence, it proposes creating a health-financing system in which people pay contributions (mostly through taxes) according to their ability to pay and then receive health services according to their health needs.

Surprisingly, these reforms have been dubbed 'controversial' by some commentators in the South African media, even though this is the standard route to universal health coverage as exhibited by countries across Europe, Asia, Australasia, Canada and much of Latin America.

In criticising the NHI other stakeholders (often with a vested interest in preserving the status quo) have said that the government’s universal health coverage strategy is unaffordable because it will require higher levels of public financing for health.

Evidence from across the world shows that this is patently false. South Africa already spends more than 8% of its national income on its health sector, which is very high for its income level. Turkey, for example (a good health performer and slightly richer than South Africa), spends 4.3% of its GDP and Thailand (a global universal health coverage leader) spends only 3.7%. Thailand shows what can be accomplished, because it launched its celebrated universal health coverage reforms in 2002 when its GDP per capita was only $1 900 — less than a third of South Africa’s today.

In fact, Thailand’s prime minister famously ignored advice from the World Bank that it could not afford publicly financed, universal health coverage in the aftermath of the Asian financial crisis when it extended universal, tax-financed healthcare to the entire population. When these reforms proved a great success, a subsequent president of the World Bank, Dr Jim Kim, congratulated the Thai government for ignoring its previous advice.

Similarly the United Kingdom, Japan and Norway all launched successful universal health coverage reforms at times of great economic difficulty at the end of World War II. These should be salutary lessons for those saying that South Africa can’t afford the NHI. If anything, because universal health reforms generate economic growth (with returns 10 times the public investment), now is exactly the time to launch the NHI.

So there is enough overall funding in the South African health sector to take a giant step towards universal health coverage. The problem is that the current system is grossly inefficient and inequitable because more than half of these funds are spent through private insurance schemes that cover only 16% of the population — and often don’t cover even this population effectively.

Were the bulk of these resources to be channelled through an efficient public financing system, evidence from around the world shows that the health sector would achieve better health outcomes, at lower cost. Health and income inequalities would fall, too.

It’s true that in the long term, the government will have to increase public financing through reducing unfair subsidies to private health insurance and increasing taxes. But what the defenders of the current system don’t acknowledge is that, at the same time, private voluntary financing will fall, rapidly. Most families will no longer feel the need to purchase expensive private insurance when they benefit from the public system. It’s this fact that is generating so much opposition to the NHI from the private insurance lobby.

This is the situation with the National Health Service in the UK and health systems across Europe, where only a small minority choose to purchase additional private insurance. Among major economies, only the United States continues to exhibit high levels of private, voluntary financing.

As a consequence, it now spends an eye-watering 18% of its GDP on health and has some of the worst health indicators in the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, including rising levels of maternal mortality. If South Africa doesn’t socialise health financing this is where its health system will end up — a long way from universal health coverage.

What countries celebrating their universal health coverage successes at the UN have shown is that it is cheaper to publicly finance health than leave it to the free market. This is because governments are more efficient and fairer purchasers of health services than individuals and employers. As Dr Gro Harlem Brundtland, the former director general of the World Health Organization, said in New York: 'If there is one lesson the world has learnt, it is that you can only reach UHC [universal health coverage] through public financing.'

This is a step South Africa must take — it can’t afford not to.

This article was originally published by the Mail & Guardian.

When it comes to emerging infectious diseases – those newly recognized in humans or in new locations – it is not only what we know that matters but also what we do not know.

An outbreak of a new coronavirus first reported in Wuhan, China, which has so far led to more than 500 confirmed cases and multiple deaths across five countries (and two continents) has prompted the question from several corners of the world: Should we be worried?

Although expert teams coordinated by the World Health Organization (WHO) are working on key questions to get answers as soon as possible, the level of uncertainty is still high.

We do not yet know exactly how deadly the disease is, how best to treat those who get sick, precisely how it is spreading, nor how stable the virus is. It is thought that the virus spread from an animal source, but the exact source is yet to be confirmed and the disease is now in human populations and appears to be spreading from human to human.

It is such uncertainty, inherent in emerging infectious disease outbreaks, that warrants concern. Until they are resolved, it is appropriate for the world to be concerned. It is useful to remember that most established scourges of humanity such as HIV, influenza and tuberculosis likely started as emerging infectious diseases that jumped the species barrier from animals to humans.

Shortly after the Chinese authorities reported the first cases of ‘mystery pneumonia’ in Wuhan, China, to WHO, the virus causing the disease was isolated and identified as being part of the coronavirus family. It belongs to the same virus family as SARS, a highly contagious and life-threatening coronavirus that caused a nine-month epidemic in 2003 that affected 26 countries and resulted in more than 8,000 infections and nearly 800 deaths.

A second novel coronavirus that emerged in 2012 and persists today – MERS, or Middle East Respiratory Syndrome – is less contagious (spread by close contact rather than coughing and sneezing).

The differences between the SARS coronavirus and the MERS coronavirus highlight that, despite belonging to the same virus family, pathogens do not necessarily behave in the same way. It is as yet unknown whether the new virus is, or will turn out to be, more like SARS or MERS, or neither. 

Chinese authorities have confirmed that there is human-to-human transmission. However, it is not yet established whether it is sustained, which would make the outbreak more difficult to control. As of 23 January, the number of cases range from 500 confirmed cases up to an estimated 1,700 cases, according to a disease outbreak model by Imperial College London.

Likewise, we do not know to what extent the virus is able to mutate and if so, how rapidly. Generally, coronaviruses are known to be able to mutate, with the risk that a less contagious form of the virus becomes highly contagious. This could have an impact not only on the transmission pattern and rate but also the death rate. The virus could change in either direction, to become either more or less of a threat.

It is important to take a precautionary approach while uncertainty persists. It is also important not to overreact and for measures to be scientifically sound. Concern over this outbreak is due, but panic is not.

Three virtual networks of experts supporting the response – one of virologists, one of epidemiologists and one of clinicians – are working on the key pieces of the jigsaw puzzle: watching the virus, watching the transmission patterns, and watching the people who have been infected. It is crucial to maintain the ongoing investigation of the disease, stay focused on the science and to keep sharing the necessary information.

The World Health Organization (WHO) declared the spread of COVID-19 to be a Public Health Emergency of International Concern (PHEIC) on January 30 this year and then characterized it as a pandemic on March 11.

Declaring a PHEIC is the highest level of alert that WHO is obliged to declare, and is meant to send a powerful signal to countries of the need for urgent action to combat the spread of the disease, mobilize resources to help low- and middle-income countries in this effort and fund research and development on needed treatments, vaccines and diagnostics. It also obligates countries to share information with WHO.

Once the PHEIC was declared, the virus continued to spread globally, and WHO began to be asked why it had not yet declared the disease a pandemic. But there is no widely accepted definition of a pandemic, generally it is just considered an epidemic which affects many countries globally.

Potentially more deadly

The term has hitherto been applied almost exclusively to new forms of flu, such as H1N1 in 2009 or Spanish flu in 1918, where the lack of population immunity and absence of a vaccine or effective treatments makes the outbreak potentially much more deadly than seasonal flu (which, although global, is not considered a pandemic).

For COVID-19, WHO seemed reluctant to declare a pandemic despite the evidence of global spread. Partly this was because of its influenza origins — WHO’s emergency programme executive director said on March 9 that ‘if this was influenza, we would have called a pandemic ages ago’.

He also expressed concern that the word traditionally meant moving — once there was widespread transmission — from trying to contain the disease by testing, isolating the sick and tracing and quarantining their contacts, to a mitigation approach, implying ‘the disease will spread uncontrolled’.

WHO’s worry was that the world’s reaction to the word pandemic might be there was now nothing to be done to stop its spread, and so countries would effectively give up trying. WHO wanted to send the message that, unlike flu, it could still be pushed back and the spread slowed down.

In announcing the pandemic two days later, WHO’s director-general Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus reemphasised this point: ‘We cannot say this loudly enough, or clearly enough, or often enough: all countries can still change the course of this pandemic’ and that WHO was deeply concerned ‘by the alarming levels of inaction’.

The evidence suggests that the correct message did in fact get through. On March 13, US president Donald Trump declared a national emergency, referring in passing to WHO’s announcement. On March 12, the UK launched its own strategy to combat the disease. And in the week following WHO’s announcements, at least 16 other countries announced lockdowns of varying rigour including Austria, Belgium, Canada, Czech Republic, Denmark, Finland, France, Germany, Hungary, Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Serbia, Spain and Switzerland. Italy and Greece had both already instituted lockdowns prior to the WHO pandemic announcement.

It is not possible to say for sure that WHO’s announcement precipitated these measures because, by then, the evidence of the rapid spread was all around for governments to see. It may be that Italy’s dramatic nationwide lockdown on March 9 reverberated around European capitals and elsewhere.

But it is difficult to believe the announcement did not have an effect in stimulating government actions, as was intended by Dr Tedros. Considering the speed with which the virus was spreading from late February, might an earlier pandemic announcement by WHO have stimulated earlier aggressive actions by governments?

Declaring a global health emergency — when appropriate — is a key part of WHO’s role in administering the International Health Regulations (IHR). Significantly, negotiations on revisions to the IHR, which had been ongoing in a desultory fashion in WHO since 1995, were accelerated by the experience of the first serious coronavirus outbreak — SARS — in 2002-2003, leading to their final agreement in 2005.

Under the IHR, WHO’s director-general decides whether to declare an emergency based on a set of criteria and on the advice of an emergency committee. IHR defines an emergency as an ‘extraordinary event that constitutes a public health risk through the international spread of disease and potentially requires a coordinated international response’.

In the case of COVID-19, the committee first met on January 22-23 but were unable to reach consensus on a declaration. Following the director-general’s trip to meet President Xi Jinping in Beijing, the committee reconvened on January 30 and this time advised declaring a PHEIC.

But admittedly, public recognition of what a PHEIC means is extremely low. Only six have ever been declared, with the first being the H1N1 flu outbreak which fizzled out quickly, despite possibly causing 280,000 deaths globally. During the H1N1 outbreak, WHO declared a PHEIC in April 2009 and then a pandemic in June, only to rescind both in August as the outbreak was judged to have transitioned to behave like a seasonal flu.

WHO was criticized afterwards for prematurely declaring a PHEIC and overreacting. This then may have impacted the delay in declaring the Ebola outbreak in West Africa as a PHEIC in 2014, long after it became a major crisis. WHO’s former legal counsel has suggested the PHEIC — and other aspects of the IHR framework — may not be effective in stimulating appropriate actions by governments and needs to be reconsidered.

When the time is right to evaluate lessons about the response, it might be appropriate to consider the relative effectiveness of the PHEIC and pandemic announcements and their optimal timing in stimulating appropriate action by governments. The effectiveness of lockdowns in reducing the overall death toll also needs investigation.

Almost four years since it was established, the China-led Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB) has approved 49 projects and proposed 28. The AIIB claims to be more efficient and less bureaucratic than traditional multilateral development banks (MDB’s) which has threatened the existing model of multilateral development finance. At the same time, China’s increased role in previously Western-led economic institutions, such as the WTO and IMF, has raised questions over the future of the international trade order. How will a rising China shape the international institutional order? Where are there opportunities for potential collaboration and what areas pose challenges? And how should other states and international organizations respond?

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

The study of secrecy and spies remain subjects dominated by Anglo-American experiences. In recent years there has been some effort to refocus the lens of research upon ‘intelligence elsewhere’, including the global South. This is partly because of intense interest in the Arab Spring and ‘managed democracy’, placing a wider range of secret services under the spotlight. However, the approach to research is still dominated by concepts and methods derived from studying the English-speaking states of the ‘Five Eyes’ alliance and their European outriders. This article calls for a re-examination of research strategies for Intelligence Studies and for those theorizing surveillance, suggesting that both fields have much to learn from area studies and development studies, especially in the realm of research practice and ethics. If the growing number of academics specializing in intelligence genuinely wish to move forward and examine the global South they will need to rethink their tool-kit and learn from other disciplines. We suggest there is a rich tradition to draw upon.

At face value, recent years have seen a deepening in Sino-Russian cooperation, from energy agreements, to the recent Huawei-MTS deal developing a 5G network in Russia. Ever larger-in-scale joint military exercises add to fears by some that the 'axis of convenience' is now a more genuine – and threatening – partnership.

This workshop will offer a sober assessment of the latest developments in Sino-Russian relations, shedding light on the underpinnings and practical realities of the relationship as well as on the long-term challenges of upholding cooperation.

The panel will discuss the different and potentially diverging interpretations of contemporary Sino-Russian relations as well as the implications for the rules-based international order.

This event is co-organized by the Chatham House Russia and Eurasia Programme and the University of Exeter and is supported by the British International Studies Association.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

India has adopted the Indo-Pacific concept with uncharacteristic speed. This article examines India's Indo-Pacific strategy, which evolved out of its earlier ‘Look East’ and ‘Act East’ policies but is much more focused on strategic concerns than on trade or connectivity. As such, the strategy is subset of its China policy, and includes contradictory elements of balancing China by building partnerships with the United States as well as with regional powers, while simultaneously pursuing a reassurance strategy to convince Beijing that India is not really balancing China. The combination of these contradictory elements is characterized as evasive balancing, which is a more useful concept than either pure balancing or hedging for understanding the policies of India and of many other countries in the region that are trying to manage China's rise. However, reassurance strategies rarely work and the combination of balancing and reassurance is even less likely to be viable.

Asia’s political class learnt many lessons on digital governance in 2019, not all of them positive.

The prolonged protests in Hong Kong and India, led by disaffected young citizenry and enabled by social media tools, powerfully demonstrated how things could spiral out of control when the virtual and the real streets come together.

Not surprisingly, governments across the region are taking a step back. Instead of placing the citizen at the heart of digital public policy – with privacy, trust, security and inclusion as drivers of digital governance – Asian governments are focusing instead on surveillance and command and control, which contradicts the spirit of a decentralized Internet and undermines citizen’s rights.

Asia’s digital governance is fragmenting from the global norm and morphing into two platforms with remarkably similar characteristics.

One is a China-driven model aptly called the Great Firewall where surveillance of citizens is an explicit objective and any external material deemed to be subversive is kept out. A complementary model has also emerged more recently, which can best be described as China-light, which seeks to emulate the control aspects of the Great Firewall.

There are of course overlaps between emulators of the China model (this list includes Vietnam, Myanmar, Cambodia and Laos) and those pursuing China-light (Singapore, India, Indonesia, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, the Philippines, Thailand and Malaysia). A common thread running through these two approaches, which differ only in intensity and scope, is the belief that the state is best positioned to police social media and protect the rights of citizens.

This was not how it was supposed to be. A decade ago, Asian political leaders spoke about the virtues of an open internet. Such talk has faded, and a narrowing of Asia’s digital space is taking place against a backdrop of an intensifying trade war between America and China, where regional supply chains run the risk of a decoupling into distinct Sino and American spheres, upending Asia’s durable economic model of the past few decades.

Digital fragmentation in the world’s fastest growing region, with five G20 members, will complicate efforts to build global governance and standards.

Asia’s digital landscape

Asian governments, including democratic ones, have developed an unhealthy obsession with what their citizens are up to on a daily basis. Their solution is round-the-clock monitoring in cities and towns, powered by new surveillance technologies.

Name tagging and facial recognition to track movement of citizens has become pervasive across the region, with China emerging as the preferred source of technology, knowledge, and techniques. While India’s Supreme Court has ruled that privacy is a fundamental right, translating this into concrete citizen’s protections will be difficult with the Modi government eager to emulate China’s approach.

Asian governments are also following China in requiring that their citizen’s data be housed within national borders and are rebelling against the established practice of data offshoring.

In the post-Snowden era and amidst increasing cyber risks, there are rational national security reasons for why governments may want to ring-fence customer data within national boundaries. However, Asian governments are paying little or no attention to how companies are using customer data within national boundaries, with widespread abuses going unchecked.

Global standards are still evolving and there is a strong case here for a uniform regional approach, perhaps via ASEAN or APEC, on standards governing customer privacy, payments, data collection and handling. Big tech companies and platforms operate across much of Asia and a regional approach will curb their current instinct of conducting regulatory arbitrage.

There is a genuine problem in Asia, as elsewhere in the world, with the proliferation of fake news and extremism. But instead of addressing the source of this problem, governments are clamping down by generously expanding the definition of fake news (Singapore) or by shutting down the internet altogether (India, Sri Lanka, and China being serial offenders).

As disseminators of news of all stripes, including the fake variant, the big tech firms have a primary responsibility in policing their platforms. However, the regulatory capacity of many Asian governments to monitor this is weak and in crisis situations, governments prefer to shut the pipes altogether.

Digitalization of course is not all about surveillance and holds the promise of driving inclusion. There is considerable hype within Asia on the promise of fintech as an enabler of this inclusion.

Hong Kong and Singapore are licensing new digital banks, India’s UPI (unified payments interface) is reducing friction in domestic payments and China’s BAT companies (Baidu, Alibaba, Tencent) are disrupting traditional commerce and payments, and seeking to expand in the region.

However, there is an elite focus in many of these initiatives, with the target market being the region’s rising middle class rather than those at the bottom of the income ladder. Making fintech work for all will require micro-initiatives with the support of NGOs, local governments and small enterprises, with the objective of digitalizing microfinance.

Here developing Asia will again benefit from learning from each other and in building regional approaches. India’s Aadhar for example, with appropriate security safeguards, is a model for Asia in terms of building digital identity.

Given differing regional and national objectives, it is difficult to imagine a global accord for digital governance any time soon. However, by signing on to the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) and the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Transpacific Partnership (CPTPP, the successor to the TPP), Asia has consistently demonstrated its leadership in trade and regional governance.

This is why the region needs to come together to ensure that the promise and potential of digitalization flows evenly and equitably to the region, with the region’s 3.8 billion citizens at the heart, rather than at the margins of sensible public policy.

This conference will be the fifth in an annual conference series exploring global geopolitical and geoeconomic trends and their respective influences on Japan and the UK.

This conference will be held in partnership with the Daiwa Institute of Research.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

The 2019–20 fire season in Australia has been unprecedented. To date, an estimated 18 million hectares of fire has cut swathes through the bush – an area greater than that of the average European country and over five times the size of blazes in the Amazon.

This reflects previous predictions of Australian science. Since 2008 and as recently as 2018, scientific bodies have warned that climate change will exacerbate existing conditions for fires and other climatic disasters in Australia. What used to be once-in-a-generation fires now re-appear within 10–15 years with increased ferocity, over longer seasons.

In a country known for climate denial and division, debate has erupted around bushfire management and climate change. One of these is whether controlled burns are the answer to Australia’s climate-affected fire conditions.

There is no single risk reduction strategy. Controlled burning remains key, if adapted to the environment and climate. 

But when three out of four seasons in a year can support destructive bushfires, there are clear limits to what controlled burning and other fire management techniques can achieve. Other ‘adaptation’ measures are also likely to provoke intense debate – including bush clearance. As one Australian expert offered to highlight where Australia has got to, families should probably not go on holiday to bush and beach during the height of summer when temperatures and fire risk peaks. 

So, unless Australia is prepared to debate radical changes to where people live and how land is used, the limits to adaptation imply the need for mitigation. This means supporting ambitious global greenhouse emissions reductions targets. As research from Victoria, one fire-prone state in Australia, highlights, ‘the emissions pathway we follow is the largest determinant of change to many variables [such as temperature] beyond the next few decades.’

Can Australia become a more active global partner on emissions?

Australia accounts for just over one per cent of global emissions, so reducing domestic emissions – even though on a per capita basis they are the highest in the world – will not reduce Australia’s climate risk. Showing international leadership and supporting a powerful coalition of the willing to tackle climate change is the only way ahead. By showing a willingness to adopt climate ambition, Australia can help more constructive worldwide action, and thereby reduce its own risk exposure. 

Leading by example is a politically difficult issue for Australia. Prime Minister Scott Morrison was re-elected in May 2019 on an economic stability platform, and a promise not to imperil employment growth through climate action. Australia has contested UN estimates that it will not meet its existing modest goals for domestic emissions, by seeking to rely on carryover credits from action under the Kyoto Protocol as proof of progress.

It has also distanced itself from concerns over global supply and demand in fossil fuels. Australia remains a global supplier for fossil fuels, including coal – the nation’s coal exports accounted for $67 billion in revenues in 2019 in an expanding but changing Asian market, supplying ‘some of the cheapest electricity in the world’.

Possible influencers of change

With Australians experiencing first-hand the risks of climate change, there is already pressure to do more. Many are sceptical this will translate into domestic targets or export policies that give Australia the moral authority to ask for more action on the global stage.

Here, diverse groups who share a common interest in seeing Australia recover from the bushfires and address future climate risks could be key.

Importantly this includes rural and urban-fringe communities affected by the bushfires. They were part of Morrison’s traditional supporter-base but are angry at the government’s handling of the crisis and increasingly see how tiptoeing around emissions (including exports) has also ‘buried’ open discussion at home on climate-readiness.

Australian states could also find themselves taking a lead role. Virtually all jurisdictions have now committed to their own goals, most based on zero-carbon goals by 2050 (as has New Zealand). These can support modelling for Australia’s energy transition from coal, through gas, to market competitive renewables, while also help to ensure this reflects community expectations on jobs, electricity prices and other costs. 

Other emerging voices include the insurance and banking sectors (the Reserve Bank of Australia warned of the long-term financial stability risks of climate change before the fires) and indigenous Australians (one group of Torres Strait Islanders have filed a complaint to the UN Human Rights Committee which, if heard, will place Australia’s emissions record under the spotlight again). Their challenge now is finding a common language on what a cohesive approach to addressing climate change risk looks like. 

The international picture is mixed. The United States’ poor federal climate policy is a buffer for Australia. French President Emmanuel Macron has tried to raise the cost of inaction for Australia in current EU–Australia trade negotiations, but many large emitters in the Indo-Pacific region remain key Australian trading partners, investors and buyers of Australian coal. 

In the meantime, the United Kingdom is preparing for the meeting of parties to the Paris Agreement in Glasgow in November. A key global event following Brexit, the UK will no doubt be hoping to encourage a leadership circle with national commitments that meet global need to make the Glasgow meeting a success.

The UK public has expressed enormous sympathy for Australia in the bushfires and outrage over ‘climate denialism.’ Australia’s experience will be a cautionary tale of the effects of climate change at the meeting. Could the UK also support Australia to become a less reluctant partner in global climate action?

The outbreak of communal violence in Delhi this week is the worst in India’s capital for decades. It both reflects and will reinforce India’s polarization.

That polarization is between the view that India represents homogeneity, grounded on the fact that its citizens are overwhelmingly (around four-fifths) Hindu (the view of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party [BJP] of Narendra Modi), and the alternative that India represents diversity – its population includes hundreds of millions of non-Hindus and speakers of dozens if not hundreds of different languages.

India’s polarization is reflected in the reaction to the three days of violence in northeast Delhi, which left hundreds injured and, at the time of writing, 34 dead. The government and its supporters portray the protesters as almost exclusively Muslim fifth-columnists, their actions facilitated by Islamist extremists or Pakistan or even the opposition Congress Party.

The alternative view is that violence has been initiated by state-supported thugs, with the police turning a blind eye. In this view the protesters reflect a broader spectrum of Indian society, with a shared aversion to communalism and a commitment to India’s secular ideals.

Delhi recently held a state election, and while the BJP lost, some of the rhetoric used by its politicians was vitriolic. One compared protesters to rapists and murderers. Another led his supporters in chants of ‘shoot the nation's traitors’, referring to the protestors.

In such an environment, in which Hindu vigilantes feel empowered and India’s Muslims feel defenceless, Delhi’s worst communal violence for decades erupted.

Some have drawn parallels between events in Delhi with the violence in Gujarat in 2002 when at least 1,000 people – the majority Muslim – were killed. There, the accusation against Modi, then chief minister of the state, was that the state turned a blind eye to violence.

In general, past outbreaks of communal violence in India have been dampened by the rapid imposition of a curfew and deployment of substantial security forces to enforce it. Such an approach was notably absent in both Gujarat and, thus far, Delhi.

The BJP, emboldened

The violence takes place in the wake of two controversial actions the BJP has taken since its re-election in 2019.

First, the BJP-led government revoked the special status of the state of Jammu and Kashmir. To the BJP, the special status accorded to Jammu and Kashmir, India’s only Muslim-majority state, was simply the most egregious example of their long-held view that other parties pandered to the Muslim community.

While the move gained some international criticism, the general response in India to the crackdown that followed – including the restriction of internet access and arrest of a number of politicians – was muted.

Then, the government put forward the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA).

In 2013, a year before the BJP’s first term in office, India’s Supreme Court ordered that the National Register of Citizens (NRC) be updated in the northeast Indian state of Assam.

Migration from what is now Bangladesh has been a contentious issue in northeast India region since colonial times and was the cause of widespread agitation, and conflict, in the region from the late 1970s.

While militancy continued thereafter, tension was partly resolved by the 1985 Assam Accord, which stated that people who had moved into Assam after 1971 (after the creation of Bangladesh) should be deported. However, this provision was not acted upon until the 2013 order.

In August 2019, the final NRC was published. Just under 2 million people were found to be non-citizens. A substantial proportion of these, however, appear to have been Hindus, a dilemma for the BJP.

To solve this, the government put forward the CAA, under which Hindus (along with followers of several other religions) could become Indian citizens. Muslims, however, were excluded. The BJP argued that the act was a generous gesture to illegal immigrants who faced persecution in neighbouring countries, and not a discriminatory gesture.

Unlike moves in Kashmir, the CAA sparked nationwide protests across India. While Assam is something of a special case, concern over the possible nationwide rollout of the CAA caused alarm. The government has recently been ambiguous over its intentions, though had earlier directed states to establish at least one detention centre.

The economy, creaking

That this is all taking place during an economic slowdown provides additional cause for concern. Many of India’s long-running internal conflicts subsided in recent years as the economy grew rapidly. But for the past year and a half, growth has slowed each quarter, to just 4.5% year on year.

The common assumption has been that India needs to grow at 8% to stand still, given the need to create millions of jobs. Unemployment currently stands at a 45-year high. Among 20 to 24-year olds, unemployment stands at 37%. India’s demographic dividend is being wasted.

For now, India seems trapped in a self-created vicious circle. The more it focuses on social and religious division, the more its economy will suffer. And while its economy worsens, the need to double-down on division as a distraction for its underemployed young men will intensify.

It has been nearly six years since the West imposed sanctions on Russia, targeting Russia's energy, defence and financial sectors. The sanctions exposed Russia's key vulnerabilities - dependence on Western capital and advanced technology, with knock-on effects in other sectors.

In an effort to offset the impact of sanctions, Russia has attempted a diversification strategy to non-Western states. The Asia-Pacific has emerged as a new export market for hydrocarbons and weapons, and as the main alternative to Western capital. Russia's self-proclaimed 'turn to the East' is intended to alleviate the sanctions burden and buy valuable time to come up with long-term solutions; but it has come at a high cost. 

In this discussion, Maria Shagina will examine the ways in which Asian states have helped mitigate the impact of Western sanctions and the pitfalls associated with it, while assessing the implications of Russia's pivot to Asia on its import substitution policy, and the effectiveness of sanctions overall.