As coronavirus spreads across the globe, states grapple to find the ideal strategy for coping with the global pandemic. And, in China, Singapore, South Korea, the US, the UK, and Europe, divergent policies are a product of state capacity and legal authority, but they also reveal competing views about the optimal role of centralized state authority, federalism, and the private sector.

Although it is too soon to know the longer-term effects, the apparent capacity of centralized state authority in China, South Korea and Singapore to respond effectively and rapidly is making headlines. In the United States, the opposite has been true. 

America’s response is being shaped by its federal structure, a dynamic private sector, and a culture of civic engagement. In the three weeks since the first US case of coronavirus was confirmed, state leaders, public health institutions, corporations, universities and churches have been at the vanguard of the nation’s effort to mitigate its spread.

Images of safety workers in hazmat suits disinfecting offices of multinational corporations and university campuses populate American Facebook pages. The contrast to the White House effort to manage the message, downplay, then rapidly escalate its estimation of the crisis is stark.

Bewildering response

For European onlookers, the absence of a clear and focused response from the White House is bewildering. By the time President Donald Trump declared a national emergency, several state emergencies had already been called, universities had shifted to online learning, and churches had begun to close.

By contrast, in Italy, France, Spain and Germany, the state has led national efforts to shutter borders and schools. In the UK, schools are largely remaining open as Prime Minister Boris Johnson has declared a strategy defined by herd immunity, which hinges on exposing resilient populations to the virus.

But America has never shared Europe’s conviction that the state must lead. The Center for Disease Control and Prevention, the leading national public health institute and a US federal agency, has attempted to set a benchmark for assessing the crisis and advising the nation. But in this instance, its response has been slowed due to faults in the initial tests it attempted to rollout. The Federal Reserve has moved early to cut interest rates and cut them again even further this week.

But states were the real first movers in America’s response and have been using their authority to declare a state of emergency independent of the declaration of a national emergency. This has allowed states to mobilize critical resources, and to pressure cities into action. After several days delay and intense public pressure, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo forced New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio to close the city’s schools.

Declarations of state emergencies by individual states have given corporations, universities and churches the freedom and legitimacy to move rapidly, and ahead of the federal government, to halt the spread in their communities.

Washington state was the first to declare a state of emergency. Amazon, one of the state’s leading employers, quickly announced a halt to all international travel and, alongside Microsoft, donated $1million to a rapid-response Seattle-based emergency funds. States have nudged their corporations to be first movers in the sector’s coronavirus response. But corporations have willingly taken up the challenge, often getting ahead of state as well as federal action.

Google moved rapidly to announce a move allowing employees to work from home after California declared a state of emergency. Facebook soon followed with an even more stringent policy, insisting employees work from home. Both companies have also met with World Health Organization (WHO) officials to talk about responses, and provided early funding for WHO’s Solidarity Response Fund set up in partnership with the UN Foundation and the Swiss Philanthropy Foundation.

America’s leading research universities, uniquely positioned with in-house public health and legal expertise, have also been driving preventive efforts. Just days after Washington declared a state of emergency, the University of Washington became the first to announce an end to classroom teaching and move courses online. A similar pattern followed at Stanford, Harvard, Princeton and Columbia - each also following the declaration of a state of emergency.

In addition, the decision by the Church of the Latter Day Saints to cancel its services worldwide followed Utah’s declaration of a state of emergency.

The gaping hole in the US response has been the national government. President Trump’s declaration of a national emergency came late, and his decision to ban travel from Europe but - at least initially - exclude the UK, created uncertainty and concern that the White House response is as much driven by politics as evidence.

This may soon change, as the House of Representatives has passed a COVID-19 response bill that the Senate will consider. These moves are vital to supporting state and private efforts to mobilize an effective response to a national and global crisis.

Need for public oversight

In the absence of greater coordination and leadership from the centre, the US response will pale in comparison to China’s dramatic moves to halt the spread. The chaos across America’s airports shows the need for public oversight. As New York State Governor Cuomo pleaded for federal government support to build new hospitals, he said: ‘I can’t do it. You can’t leave it to the states.'

When it comes to global pandemics, we may be discovering that authoritarian states can have a short-term advantage, but already Iran’s response demonstrates that this is not universally the case. Over time, the record across authoritarian states as they tackle the coronavirus will become more apparent, and it is likely to be mixed.

Open societies remain essential. Prevention requires innovation, creativity, open sharing of information, and the ability to inspire and mobilize international cooperation. The state is certainly necessary, but it is not sufficient alone.

It is less than a month since we published our research paper on the future of democracy in Europe. But it feels like we now live in a different world. The coronavirus has already killed thousands of people in Europe, led to an unprecedented economic crisis and transformed daily life – and in the process raised difficult new questions about democracy.

The essence of our argument in the paper was that democracy in Europe should be deepened. But now there is a much more basic question about whether democracies can protect their citizens from the pandemic.

There has already been much discussion about whether authoritarian states will emerge stronger from this crisis than democracies. In particular, although the virus originated in China and the government initially seemed to struggle to deal with it, it was able to largely contain the outbreak in Hubei and deploy vast resources from the rest of the country to deal with it.

Come through the worst

China may have come through the worst of the health crisis – though a second wave of infections as restrictions are lifted is possible – and there have already been three times as many deaths in Italy, and twice as many in Spain, as in China (although there is increasing doubt about the accuracy of China’s figures).

However, it is not only authoritarian states that seem so far to have coped relatively well with the virus. In fact, some East Asian democracies appear to have done even better than China. At the time of writing South Korea, with a population of 51.5 million, has had only 144 death rates so far. Taiwan, with a population of nearly 24 million, has had only two deaths.

So rather than thinking in terms of the relative performance of authoritarian states and democracies, perhaps instead we should be asking what we in Europe can learn from East Asian democracies.

It is not yet clear why East Asian democracies were able to respond so effectively, especially as they did not all follow exactly the same approach. Whereas some quickly imposed restrictions on travel (for example, Taiwan suspended flights from China and then prohibited the entry of people from China and other affected countries) and quarantines, others used extensive testing and contact tracing, often making use of personal data collected from citizens.

Whatever the exact strategy they used, though, they did all act quickly and decisively – and the collective memory of the SARS outbreak in 2003 and other recent epidemics seems to have played a role in this. For example, following the SARS outbreak, Taiwan created a central epidemic command center. Europe, meanwhile, was hardly affected by SARS – and we seem to have assumed the coronavirus would be the same (although that does not quite explain why we were still so slow to react in February even after it was clear that the virus had spread to Italy).

However, while the relative success of East Asian democracies may have something to do with this recent experience of epidemics, it may also have something to do with the kind of democracies they are. It may be a simple matter of competence – the bureaucracy in Taiwan and South Korea may function better, and in particular in a more coordinated way, than in many European countries.

But it may also be more than that. In particular, it could be that East Asian democracies have a kind of 'authoritarian residue' that has helped in the initial response to this crisis. South Korea and Taiwan are certainly vibrant democracies – but they are also relatively new democracies compared to many in Europe. As a result, citizens may have a different relationship with the state and be more willing to accept sudden restrictions of freedoms, in particular on movement, and the use of personal data – at least in a crisis.

In that sense, the pandemic may be a challenge not to democracy as such but to liberal democracy in particular – in other words, a system of popular sovereignty together with guaranteed basic rights, such as including freedom of association and expression and checks and balances on executive power. There may now be difficult trade-offs to be made between those basic rights and security – and, after the experience of coronavirus, many citizens may choose security.

This brings us back to the issues we discussed in our research paper. Even before the coronavirus hit, there was already much discussion of a crisis of liberal democracy. In particular, there has been a debate about whether liberalism and democracy, which had long been assumed to go together, were becoming decoupled.

In particular, ‘illiberal democracies’ seemed to be emerging in many places including Europe (although, as we discuss in the paper, some analysts argue that the term is incoherent). This model of ‘illiberal democracy’ – in other words, one in which elections continue to be held but some individual rights are curtailed – may emerge stronger from this new crisis.

It is striking that Singapore – also seen as responding successfully to coronavirus – was seen as a paradigmatic ‘illiberal democracy’ long before Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán embraced the idea. In particular, there is little real opposition to the People’s Action Party, which has been in power since 1959.

Since this new crisis began, Orbán has gone further in suspending rights in Hungary. On March 11, he declared a state of emergency – as many other European countries have also done. But he has now gone further by passing legislation that allows him to govern by decree indefinitely and make it illegal to spread misinformation that undermines the government’s response to the pandemic. Clearly, this is a further decisive step in the deconsolidation of liberal democracy in Hungary.

So far, though, much of the discussion, particularly in the foreign policy world, has focused mainly on how to change popular perceptions that liberal democracies are failing in this crisis. For example, High Representative Josep Borrell, the European Union’s foreign minister, wrote last week of a 'battle of narratives'.

But this misses the point. It is not a matter of spinning the European model, but of taking seriously the substantial questions raised by the coronavirus about the ability of liberal democracies to adequately protect their citizens.

Russia’s ongoing occupation of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula and support of separatist hostilities in the eastern provinces of Donbas have resulted in 1.5 million internally displaced persons, 3,000 civilians killed, and a growing list of alleged violations of international law and socio-economic hardship.

But Ukraine is struggling in its efforts to hold Russia accountable – either as a state or through individual criminal responsibility - as it cannot unilaterally ask any international court to give an overall judgment on the conflict.

So it focuses on narrower issues, referring them to authorised adjudication and arbitration platforms such as the International Court of Justice (ICJ), European Court of Human Rights, UNCLOS arbitration, and the International Criminal Court (ICC). These options are limited, but still worth taking - and their relevance is proving to be far wider than the Russia-Ukraine conflict.

Policy of cultural eradication

In 2017, Ukraine initiated proceedings against Russia at the ICJ on the basis of two international treaties: the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), with regard to Crimea; and the International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism (ICSFT), with regard to Donbas.

Under the CERD, Ukraine alleges Russia has carried out a policy of cultural eradication of ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars in Crimea, including enforced disappearances, no education in the Ukrainian and Crimean Tatar languages, and the ban of the Mejlis, the main representative body of the Crimean Tatars.

Under the ICSFT, Ukraine alleges Russia has supported terrorism by providing funds, weapons and training to illegal armed groups in eastern Ukraine. In particular Ukraine alleges Russian state responsibility - through its proxies - for downing the infamous MH17 flight.

Both these treaties are binding upon Ukraine and Russia and entitle an individual state party to refer a dispute concerning them to the ICJ, but certain procedural pre-conditions must first be exhausted. These include a failed attempt to settle a dispute either through negotiations or the CERD Committee (for the CERD) or unsuccessful negotiations and arbitration (for the ICSFT).

Russia challenged Ukraine’s compliance with the pre-conditions, but the ICJ disagreed with Russia’s submission that Ukraine had to resort both to negotiations and to the CERD Committee. For the first time, the court clarified these procedures under the CERD were two means to reach the same aim, and therefore alternative and not cumulative.

Requiring states to avail of both procedures before going to the ICJ would undermine the very purpose of the CERD to eliminate racial discrimination promptly, and ensure the availability of effective domestic protection and remedies.

The relevance of this clarification transcends the Ukraine-Russia dispute. With the rise of discriminatory practices, from populist hate-filled rhetoric endangering vulnerable communities to large-scale persecution such as that of the Rohingyas, the UN’s principal judicial body is sending a clear larger message to the world: such practices are unacceptable and must be dealt with expeditiously and efficiently. If states fail to do so, there are now fewer procedural impediments to do it internationally.

The ICJ also confirmed Ukraine had complied with both procedural preconditions under the ICSFT and that it would give judgement on the alleged failure of Russia to take measures to prevent the financing of terrorism. The outcome of this will be of great importance to the international community, given the general lack of international jurisprudence on issues of terrorism.

The court’s interpretation of knowledge and intent in terrorism financing, as well as clarification of the term ‘funds’, is particularly relevant both for the Ukraine-Russia case and for international law.

As the final judgement may take several years, the ICJ granted some provisional measures requested by Ukraine in April 2017. The court obliged Russia to ensure the availability of education in Ukrainian and enable the functioning of the Crimean Tatar representative institutions, including the Mejlis.

When Russia contested Ukraine’s references to the alleged Stalin-ordered deportation of the Crimean Tatars and the rule of law in the Soviet Union being hypocritical, by arguing that history did not matter, the court disagreed.

In fact, Judge James Crawford emphasised the relevance of the ‘historical persecution’ of Crimean Tatars and the role of Mejlis in advancing and protecting their rights in Crimea ‘at the time of disruption and change’.

These conclusions are important reminders that the historical inheritance of injustices inflicted on vulnerable groups should be taken into account when nations address their imperial legacies.

The court’s provisional measures and Judge Crawford’s position are particularly relevant in light of Russia’s policy of the total - territorial, historical, cultural – ‘russification’ of Crimea, as they highlight the role of the historical background for assessing the alleged discriminatory and prosecutorial policy of Russia’s occupying authorities against the Crimean Tatars.

The ICJ’s judgement on the merits of this as well as other human rights, and terrorism issues of Crimea and Donbas will be an important consideration for the international community in its view of the Russia-Ukraine armed conflict and the sanctions policy against Russia.

The development of this case also has a mutually catalysing impact on Ukraine’s efforts to establish those individually criminally responsible for atrocities in Crimea and Donbas, through domestic proceedings and through the International Criminal Court.

Ukraine’s attempts to seek individual criminal responsibility for gross abuses in Donbas and Crimea at the International Criminal Court (ICC) are assessed in part two of this series, coming soon.

With the IMF forecasting a 6.1% fall in advanced economy GDP in 2020 and world trade expected to contract by 11%, there is intense focus on the question of how and when to re-open economies currently in lockdown.

But no ‘opening up’ plan has a chance of succeeding unless it commands the confidence of all the main actors in the economy – employees, consumers, firms, investors and local authorities.

Without public confidence, these groups may follow official guidance only sporadically; consumers will preserve cash rather than spend it on goods and services; employees will delay returning to work wherever possible; businesses will face worsening bottlenecks as some parts of the economy open up while key suppliers remain closed; and firms will continue to delay many discretionary investment and hiring decisions.

Achieving public confidence

Taken together, these behaviours would substantially reduce the chances of a strong economic bounce-back even in the absence of a widespread second wave of infections. Five key steps are needed to achieve a high degree of public confidence in any reopening plan.

First, enough progress must be made in suppressing the virus and in building public health capacity so the public can be confident any new outbreak will be contained without reverting to another full-scale lockdown. Moreover, the general public needs to feel that the treatment capacity of the health system is at a level where the risk to life if someone does fall ill with the virus is at an acceptably low level.

Achieving this requires the government to demonstrate the necessary capabilities - testing, contact tracing, quarantine facilities, supplies of face masks and other forms of PPE (personal protective equipment) - are actually in place and can be sustained, rather than relying on future commitments. It also needs to be clear on the role to be played going forward by handwashing and other personal hygiene measures.

Second, the authorities need to set out clear priorities on which parts of the economy are to open first and why. This needs to take account of both supply side and demand side factors, such as the importance of a particular sector to delivering essential supplies, a sector’s ability to put in place effective protocols to protect its employees and customers, and its importance to the functioning of other parts of the economy. There is little point in opening a car assembly plant unless its SME suppliers are able to deliver the required parts.

Detailed planning of the phasing of specific relaxation measures is essential, as is close cooperation between business and the authorities. The government also needs to establish a centralised coordination function capable of dealing quickly with any unexpected supply chain glitches. And it must pay close attention to feedback from health experts on how the process of re-opening the economy sector-by-sector is affecting the rate of infection.  

Third, the government needs to state how the current financial and economic support measures for the economy will evolve as the re-opening process continues. It is critical to avoid removing support measures too soon, and some key measures may have to continue to operate even as firms restart their operations. It is important to show how - over time - the measures will evolve from a ‘life support’ system for businesses and individuals into a more conventional economic stimulus.

This transition strategy could initially be signalled through broad principles, but the government needs to follow through quickly by detailing specific measures. The transition strategy must target sectors where most damage has been done, including the SME sector in general and specific areas such as transport, leisure and retail. It needs to factor in the hard truth that some businesses will be no longer be viable after the crisis and set out how the government is going to support employees and entrepreneurs who suffer as a result.

The government must also explain how it intends to learn the lessons and capture the upsides from the crisis by building a more resilient economy over the longer term. Most importantly, it has to demonstrate continued commitment to tackling climate change – which is at least as big a threat to mankind’s future as pandemics.

Fourth, the authorities should explain how they plan to manage controls on movement of people across borders to minimise the risk of new infection outbreaks, but also to help sustain the opening-up measures. This needs to take account of the fact that different countries are at different stages in the progress of the pandemic and may have different strategies and trade-offs on the risks they are willing to take as they open up.

As a minimum, an effective border plan requires close cooperation with near neighbours as these are likely to be the most important economic counterparts for many countries. But ideally each country’s plan should be part of a wider global opening-up strategy coordinated by the G20. In the absence of a reliable antibody test, border control measures will have to rely on a combination of imperfect testing, quarantine, and new, shared data requirements for incoming and departing passengers.  

Fifth, the authorities must communicate the steps effectively to the public, in a manner that shows not only that this is a well thought-through plan, but also does not hide the extent of the uncertainties, or the likelihood that rapid modifications may be needed as the plan is implemented. In designing the communications, the authorities should develop specific measures to enable the public to track progress.

Such measures are vital to sustaining business, consumer and employee confidence. While some smaller advanced economies appear close to completing these steps, for many others there is still a long way to go. Waiting until they are achieved means higher economic costs in the short-term. But, in the long-term, they will deliver real net benefits.

Authorities are more likely to sustain these measures because key economic actors will actually follow the guidance given. Also, by instilling confidence, the plan will bring forward the consumer and business decision-making crucial to a strong recovery. In contrast, moving ahead without proper preparation risks turning an already severe economic recession into something much worse.

On 10 January 2020, Chinese scientists released the sequence of the COVID-19 genome on the internet. This provided the starting gun for scientists around the world to start developing vaccines or therapies. With at least 80 different vaccines in development, many governments are pinning their hopes on a quick solution. However, there are many hurdles to overcome. 

Vaccine development

Firstly, vaccine development is normally a very long process to ensure vaccines are safe and effective before they are used. 

Safety is not a given: a recent dengue vaccine caused heightened disease in vaccinated children when they later were exposed to dengue, while Respiratory Syncytial Virus vaccine caused the same problem. Nor is effectiveness a given. Candidate vaccines that use novel techniques where minute fragments of the viruses’ genetic code are either injected directly into humans or incorporated into a vaccine (as is being pursued, or could be pursued for COVID-19) have higher risks of failure simply because they haven’t worked before. For some vaccines, we know what levels of immunity post-vaccination are likely to be protective. This is not the case for coronavirus. 

Clinical trials will have to be done for efficacy. This is not optional – regulators will need to know extensive testing has taken place before licencing any vaccine. Even if animal tests are done in parallel with early human tests, the remainder of the process is still lengthy. 

There is also great interest in the use of passive immunization, whereby antibodies to SARS-CoV-2 (collected from people who have recovered from infection or laboratory-created) are given to people who are currently ill. Antivirals may prove to be a quicker route than vaccine development, as the testing requirements would be shorter, manufacturing may be easier and only ill people would need to be treated, as opposed to all at-risk individuals being vaccinated.

Vaccine manufacturing

Developers, especially small biotechs, will have to make partnerships with large vaccine manufacturers in order to bring products to market. One notorious bottleneck in vaccine development is getting from proof-of-principle to commercial development: about 95 per cent of vaccines fail at this step. Another bottleneck is at the end of production. The final stages of vaccine production involve detailed testing to ensure that the vaccine meets the necessary criteria and there are always constraints on access to the technologies necessary to finalize the product. Only large vaccine manufacturers have these capacities. There is a graveyard of failed vaccine candidates that have not managed to pass through this development and manufacturing process.

Another consideration is adverse or unintended consequences. Highly specialized scientists may have to defer their work on other new vaccines to work on COVID-19 products and production of existing products may have to be set aside, raising the possibility of shortages of other essential vaccines. 

Cost is another challenge. Vaccines for industrialized markets can be very lucrative for pharmaceutical companies, but many countries have price caps on vaccines. Important lessons have been learned from the 2009 H1N1 flu pandemic when industrialized countries took all the vaccines first. Supplies were made available to lower-income countries at a lower price but this was much later in the evolution of the pandemic. For the recent Ebola outbreaks, vaccines were made available at low or no cost. 

Geopolitics may also play a role. Should countries that manufacture a vaccine share it widely with other countries or prioritize their own populations first? It has been reported that President Trump attempted to purchase CureVac, a German company with a candidate vaccine.  There are certainly precedents for countries prioritizing their own populations. With H1N1 flu in 2009, the Australian Government required a vaccine company to meet the needs of the Australian population first. 

Vaccine distribution

Global leadership and a coordinated and coherent response will be needed to ensure that any vaccine is distributed equitably. There have been recent calls for a G20 on health, but existing global bodies such as the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations (CEPI) and GAVI are working on vaccines and worldwide access to them. Any new bodies should seek to boost funding for these entities so they can ensure products reach the most disadvantaged. 

While countries that cannot afford vaccines may be priced out of markets, access for poor, vulnerable or marginalized peoples, whether in developed or developing countries, is of concern. Developing countries are at particular risk from the impacts of COVID-19. People living in conflict-affected and fragile states – whether they are refugees or asylum seekers, internally displaced or stateless, or in detention facilities – are at especially high risk of devastating impacts. 

Mature economies will also face challenges. Equitable access to COVID-19 vaccine will be challenging where inequalities and unequal access to essential services have been compromised within some political systems. 

The need for global leadership 

There is an urgent need for international coordination on COVID-19 vaccines. While the WHO provides technical support and UNICEF acts as a procurement agency, responding to coronavirus needs clarity of global leadership that arches over national interests and is capable of mobilizing resources at a time when economies are facing painful recessions. We see vaccines as a salvation but remain ill-equipped to accelerate their development.

While everyone hopes for rapid availability of safe, effective and affordable vaccines that will be produced in sufficient quantities to meet everyone’s needs, realistically, we face huge hurdles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Although protests successfully ended Abdelaziz Bouteflika’s 20-year sultanistic rule a little over one year ago, demands have been continuing to dismantle the system, get rid of the old personnel, and institute democracy.

The controversial election in December of Abdelmadjid Tebboune — who has inherited a disastrous situation — has not tempered the determination of the Hirak protest movement. As a former minister and prime minister under Bouteflika, the new president has won little legitimacy, and protests have continued.

Now COVID-19 is worsening already dire economic conditions, such as a sharp drop in oil prices. By the beginning of May, statistics showed 10% of confirmed cases have ended in fatality, the highest percentage in the region.

Maintaining an authoritarian style

Hirak had already called for the suspension of the marches — mobilising online instead — before the government’s measures, which include curfews and lockdowns, demonstrating a high sense of duty. But instead of appeasing Hirak’s demands, the government has maintained the authoritarian style of its predecessors.

Tebboune released more than 5,000 prisoners on March 31 but kept prisoners of conscience and leaders of the hirak imprisoned, then subsequently imprisoned journalists and activists. It even passed a controversial penal law, that also covers fake news, and may be used to justify actions against journalists.

The regime wishes to see an end to the Hirak, and rejects accusations of totalitarianism by insisting freedom and a democratic climate exist in Algeria.

Tebboune’s actions contradict his praise for the ‘blessed’ hirak and his promises of instituting the rule of law. In proclaiming the measures, the government has shown disappointing leadership, acting in an authoritarian fashion.

Tebboune also declared proudly that Algeria was fully prepared to fight the coronavirus epidemic, an optimistic claim given the country has only 400 intensive care unit (ICU) beds, or one per 100,000 people. Despite hundreds of billions of hydrocarbon dollars accumulating during the Bouteflika-era, Algeria’s health system ranks 173 out of 195 countries.

Algerians often refer to hospitals as ‘mouroirs’, meaning ‘places for the dying’. Not only has the state failed to build modern hospitals but basic hygienic conditions are lacking, and government officials prefer being treated overseas. A 2014 project to build five university hospitals was abandoned, leaving the health sector in deplorable shape.

Before Chinese assistance arrived, the glaring lack of equipment to protect caregivers and care for the sick was evident. Prime Minister Abdelaziz Djerad admitted the health system required a ‘total overhaul’. The president recently stated Algeria’s doctors are among the 'best in the world' but didn't address why almost 15,000 Algerian doctors practice in France.

Strict containment measures are in sync with most countries but implementation is challenging when most people live in overcrowded urban dwellings (the average household consists of 5.9 members).

Water shortages in many areas makes good hygiene and decontamination impossible, while schools and universities find online teaching difficult when many students do not possess laptops or internet connections. And only 20% of Algerians have debit cards in a cash-dominated economy because of low trust in the public-dominated banking sector, making online shopping capability low.

An already declining macroeconomic situation is worsening due to COVID-19. The IMF revised its 2020 estimates for Algeria, forecasting a catastrophic contraction of -5.2% in a country where hydrocarbons account for 93% of export revenues and 60% of its budget.

Foreign currency reserves are now an estimated $55 billion (expected to fall to $44billion by the end of 2020), down from $200 billion in 2014, and Algerian crude has recently traded close to production costs, with the fiscal breakeven oil price at $157.

In line with its historic aversion to external borrowing, Tebboune recently ruled out seeking financial support from the ‘IMF or other foreign banks’, as he argued such borrowing undermines sovereign foreign policy because - when indebted - ‘we cannot talk about either Palestine or Western Sahara’, two causes dear to Algeria. ‘Friendly countries’ - most likely a reference to China - are said to have offered to grant loans which have been declined for now.

The government is forecasted to face a 20% budget shortfall this year, but Algeria’s fiscal response to COVID-19 is actually the largest among the regional hydrocarbon exporters at an estimated 8% of GDP, compared to an average of 3.2%. However, the government revised downwards its 2020 public spending by 50% (a second cut in a month, from an initial 30% reduction), halting state projects and slashing its $41 billion import bill by 25% while expanding agricultural production. National oil company SONATRACH will also cut planned investment by half to $7 billion but plans have been revealed to develop other natural resources including gold, uranium and phosphates.

But recent growth rates are insufficient to create jobs for those entering the labour market. Despite government attempts to support a rather anaemic ‘formal’ private sector, estimates are 700,000 jobs could be lost due to potential bankruptcies from reduced activity and a loss of markets abroad.

Facing potential social unrest and the quasi-preservation of a tired social contract, the government has committed to upholding public sector wages - including for 50% of the civil servants told to stay home - protecting sacrosanct, unsustainable subsidies, and increasing health expenditure to strengthen the capacity to combat COVID-19.

A supplementary finance law will include various measures that support businesses and the economic fallout. However, while the government is to be commended for its efforts to aid businesses, supporting large swathes of the population is challenging as approximately 50% of the workforce operate in the informal economy.

Weak administrative capacity and insufficient data to implement cash transfers makes the planned ‘solidarity allowance’ of 10,000 dinars ($80) for Ramadan difficult to allocate to those who most need it (especially those in the informal sector). Families, communities, and religious organisations continue to be a social safety net.

So COVID-19 has not created new problems, it has merely magnified and exacerbated the numerous inequalities and failures of the Bouteflika regime to sufficiently invest in human security (economic, food, health environmental, personal, community, and political). Typically, whenever oil prices and related earnings dwindle, the political system promises to reform and diversify the economy. Tebboune is repeating this same old tune.

There are positive elements, such as the government’s realization it must initiate genuine reforms. And local enterprises have been successfully producing artificial respirators, surgical masks, and other materials. Algerians, including the Hirak, are showing great social solidarity.

But the government must capitalize on these positive actions by introducing real change. Because, if not, Hirak will certainly be back in force once the crisis is over, and operating in an environment of worsening socioeconomic problems. The medicine of the past will not work.

Summary

• This collection of essays explores, from the perspectives of eight experts, four areas of deterrence theory and policymaking: the underlying assumptions that shape deterrence practice; the enduring value of extended deterrence; the impact of emerging technologies; and the ‘blurring’ of the lines between conventional and nuclear weapons.
• Nuclear deterrence theory, with its roots in the Cold War era, may not account for all eventualities in security and defence in the 21st century, given the larger number of nuclear actors in a less binary geopolitical context. It is clear that a number of present factors challenge the overall credibility of ‘classical’ nuclear deterrence, meaning that in-depth analysis is now needed.
• Uncertainty as to the appetite to maintain the current nuclear weapons policy architecture looms large in discussions and concerns on global and regional security. The demise of the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty, doubts over the potential extension of the New Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty, heightened regional tensions in Northeast and South Asia, together with the current and likely future risks and challenges arising from global technological competition, making it all the more urgent to examine long-held assumptions in the real-world context.
• Extended deterrence practices differ from region to region, depending on the domestic and regional landscape. Increased focus on diplomatic capabilities to reduce risks and improve the long-term outlook at regional level, including by spearheading new regional arms-control initiatives, may be a viable way forward. Addressing the bigger picture – notably including, on the Korean peninsula, Pyongyang’s own threat perception – and the links between conventional and nuclear missile issues will need to remain prominent if long-term and concrete changes are to take hold.
• Most states have long held nuclear weapons to be ‘exceptional’: their use would represent a dramatic escalation of a conflict that must never be attained. Latterly, however, some officials and scholars have made the case that the impact of the use of a low-yield nuclear weapon would not be entirely distinct from that of a large-scale conventional attack. This blurring of lines between conventional and nuclear deterrence strips nuclear weapons of their exceptional nature, in a context in which states are faced with diverse, complex and concurrent threats from multiple potential adversaries that are able to synchronize non-military and military options, up to and including nuclear forces. The use of nuclear weapons risks becoming a ‘new normal’, potentially reducing the threshold for use – to cyberattacks, for example. This has direct implications for discussions around strategic stability. 
• While emerging technologies may offer tremendous opportunities in the modernization of nuclear weapons, they also present major risks and destabilizing challenges. Artificial intelligence, automation, and other developments in the cyber sphere affect dynamics on both the demand and supply sides of the nuclear deterrence equation. States and alliance such as NATO must adapt their deterrence thinking in light of these technological developments, and define their primary purpose and priorities in this shifting security context. Resilience planning, adaptation to the evolving security environment, threat anticipation, and consistent crisis management and incident response – as well as thinking about the mitigation measures necessary to prevent conflict escalation should deterrence fail – will all be critical in upholding nuclear deterrence as both policy and practice.

Islamic State videos have often been associated with savage violence and beheadings. An in-depth scrutiny however reveals another striking feature: that female bodies are absent, blurred or mute. Examining a few Islamic State videos in depth, the article suggests that the invisibility of women in tandem with the ostentatious visibility of male bodies enable gendered and embodied spectators to indulge in homoerotic as well as heterosexual imaginaries. In contrast to studies on visual security and online radicalization which assert that images affect an audience, this article focuses on the interaction between video and audience and argues that spectators are not only rational and emotional but embodied and gendered as well. Islamic State videos do not only attract western foreign fighters through religious–ideological rhetoric or emotional impact but also through gendered forms of pleasure and desire that enable carnal imagination and identification. The article probes the analytical purchase of carnal aesthetics and spectatorship.

This article sets out to bring sound and music to the field of visual studies in International Relations. It argues that IR largely has approached the visual field as if it was without sound; neglecting how audial landscapes frame and direct our interpretation of moving imagery. Sound and music contribute to making imagery intelligible to us, we ‘hear the pictures’ often without noticing. The audial can for instance articulate a visual absence, or blast visual signs, bring out certain emotional stages or subjects’ inner life. Audial frames steer us in distinct directions, they can mute the cries of the wounded in war, or amplify the sounds of joy of soldiers shooting in the air. To bring the audial and the visual analytically and empirically together, the article therefore proposes four key analytical themes: 1) the audial–visual frame, 2) point of view/point of audition, 3) modes of audio-visual synchronization and 4) aesthetics moods. These are applied to a study of ‘war music videos’ in Iraq and Syria made and circulated by Shi'a militias currently fighting there. Such war music videos, it is suggested, are not just artefacts of popular culture, but have become integral parts of how warfare is practiced today, and one that is shared by soldiers in the US and Europe. War music videos are performing war, just as they shape how war is known by spectators and participants alike.

In the three years since Shavkat Mirziyoyev was elected president of Uzbekistan, he has embarked on a wide-ranging reform process including currency liberalization, eliminating forced labour and abolishing exit visas. This has encouraged foreign investors and the population, but a rare protest last week over natural gas and electricity shortages shows that the Uzbek population’s faith in change under the new leadership could be wearing thin, while foreign direct investment that adds real value to the economy is in short supply.

When Mirziyoyev came to power, Uzbekistan was on the verge of bankruptcy. A former prime minister of 13 years, and a pragmatic economist, the new president set on a rapid course to open Uzbekistan up to its neighbours and remove barriers to trade and foreign investment. The alacrity and ambition of the reform process and the monetary and economic liberalization has at times been overwhelming for lawyers and businesses. 

However, allowing the free movement of capital, people and goods are natural moves to boost an economy after 20 years of stasis. The country is now immersed in the more challenging and substantive phase of development, including privatization, the breakup of monopolies and capital markets reform. 

Despite a marked increase in foreign direct investment, the country is not receiving the investment it needs. Much of it comes from Russia or China through bilateral arrangements, with debt from China washing through state-owned banks and state-owned enterprises. Uzbekistan’s debt to China has increased three times since the end of 2016.

Meanwhile, European and US companies still appear unsure about the business environment and the staying power of reforms. A lack of consistent policy, alongside hastily drafted decrees and legislation that often require presidential decrees to clarify their meaning as well, as opaque carve outs, are further deterring Western investors. A workforce that is still in transition from a Soviet to a free market approach exacerbates the situation.

Opposition within the government to implementation of some of the reforms, as well as competing government interests, have led to backtracking on some reforms (such as free and unrestricted currency convertibility) and creeping protectionism in some sectors. Some reforms simply get lost in the long chain from presidential decree to implementation. After 2018, import tariffs were abolished but recently, a list of protected domestically produced products has been drawn up raising concerns that vested interests are replacing state monopolies with private ones.

Despite progress on the economic front, political and social reform has lagged. Uzbekistan is still largely run by senior cadres from the previous administration of Islam Karimov. While the government has attracted younger reformers, often returning from abroad, it has also been rehabilitating key figures from the Karimov years that were implicated in corruption scandals. Progressive senior officials, such as the former general prosecutor Otabek Murodov, have been removed with little explanation as to why; trials take place behind closed doors.

The new leadership has transformed the media environment, but the country still lacks objective analytical reporting. Direct criticism of the president or the ruling family remains taboo. Economic and monetary liberalization has come at a cost to the population in the form of double-digit inflation, while utility prices are moving to the level of the free market. Popular discontent is growing at the grass roots level and some hark back to the stability of the former government, in spite of its reputation for appalling human rights treatment.

Small and innovative steps have been taken to improve the rule of law, but more can be done, including introducing transparency over judicial processes and ensuring regional authorities have less impunity before the law. An initiative to address the issue of conflict of interest – whereby mayors, senators and other senior civil servants have been able to benefit commercially from their positions during an era of government economic stimulus – would signal a commitment to fundamental reform.

With great promises of political and economic reform, the government has set a high bar for itself. A continuing paternalistic form of governance, with its restricted civil society freedoms, human rights, stifling bureaucracy and corruption, against continuing lack of opportunities, will clash with the expectations of a growing young population.

Mirziyoyev is trying to make the parliamentary elections on 22 December, the first during his presidency, more dynamic. Yet no opposition parties have been able to emerge to serve as a check on the executive branch. A product of the system he ostensibly wishes to reform, Mirziyoyev will need to prioritize the strengthening of independent institutions to deliver results to his expectant people.

In January 2019, the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople granted the Orthodox Church of Ukraine a self-governing status, ending its centuries-long subordination to the Moscow Patriarchate. The Russian Orthodox Church condemned this decision and severed its links with the Constantinople Patriarchate.

More than 500 parishes have left the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate to join the newly independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church (UOC).

What challenges is the new church facing? Has its independence been recognized by other Orthodox churches? How is it affected by the schism between Constantinople and Moscow? What are UOC’s priorities in relations with the West and with the Orthodox world?

Vladimir Putin’s goal of restoring Russia’s status as a great power has led to an aggressive foreign policy and confrontation with its immediate neighbours as well as Western countries.

Sergei Medvedev, author of The Return of the Russian Leviathan, will discuss the forces shaping Russian politics and society today as well as how a nostalgia for empire – still widespread in contemporary Russia - has shaped Moscow’s foreign policy.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only.

What does Britain’s departure from the EU mean for the country’s policy towards the South Caucasus, a small region on the periphery of Europe, fractured by conflict? Although Britain is not directly involved in any of the region’s peace processes (except in the case of the Geneva International Discussions on conflicts involving Georgia, as an EU member state), it has been a significant stakeholder in South Caucasian stability since the mid-1990s.

Most obviously, Britain has been the single largest foreign investor in Caspian oil and gas. Yet beyond pipelines, Britain also has been a significant investor in long-term civil society-led strategies to build peace in the South Caucasus.

Through what was then the Global Conflict Prevention Pool, in the early 2000s the Department for International Development (DfID) pioneered large-scale peacebuilding interventions, such as the Consortium Initiative, addressing Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, in 2003-09. These built civic networks in the South Caucasus and partnerships with British-based NGOs.

This experience left a strong intellectual legacy. British expertise on the South Caucasus, including specific expertise on its conflicts, is highly regarded in the region and across the world.

There is also a strong tradition of British scholarship on the Caucasus, and several British universities offer Caucasus-related courses. Through schemes such as the John Smith Fellowship Trust, the Robert Bosch Stiftung Academy Fellowship at Chatham House and Chevening Scholarships, significant numbers of young leaders from the South Caucasus have spent time in British institutions and built effective relationships within them.

Three challenges

This niche as a champion of long-term, strategic peacebuilding and repository of area-specific knowledge should not be lost as Britain’s relationship with the EU and regional actors evolves. This can be ensured through awareness of three challenges confronting a post-Brexit Caucasus policy.

The first challenge for London is to avoid framing a regional policy in the South Caucasus as an extension of a wider ‘Russia policy’. Deteriorating Russian-British relations in recent years strengthen a tendency to view policies in the European neighbourhood through the traditional prisms of Cold War and Russian-Western rivalries.

Yet an overwhelming focus on Russia fails to capture other important aspects of political developments in South Caucasus conflicts. Although often referred to as ‘breakaway’ or ‘occupied’ territories, Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Nagorny Karabakh are not ungoverned spaces. They have evolved into examples of what scholars call ‘de facto states’ that, to differing degrees, control territory, provide governance and exercise internal sovereignty.

Few disagree that these entities would not survive without external patronage. But neither does that patronage explain their sustainability on its own. Russia-centricity diminishes Britain’s latitude to engage on the full range of local drivers sustaining these entities, contributing instead to less effective policies predicated on competition and containment.

A second and related challenge is to maintain and develop Britain’s position on the issue of engaging populations in these entities. De facto states appear to stand outside of the international rules-based system. Yet in many cases, their civil societies are peopled by skilled and motivated activists who want their leaders to be held accountable according to international rules.

Strategies of isolation ignore these voices and contribute instead to fearful and demoralized communities less likely to engage in a transformation of adversarial relationships. Making this case with the wider international community, and facilitating the funding of local civil societies in contested territories, would be important steps in sustaining an effective British policy on the resolution of conflicts.    

The third challenge for Britain is to maintain a long-term approach to the conflicts of the South Caucasus alongside potential short-term imperatives in other policy fields, as relationships shift post-Brexit.

In this fluid international environment, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office has a role to play both as an internal champion of a long-term peacebuilding strategy and a coordinator of British efforts with those of multilateral actors engaged in the South Caucasus. These include the United Nations, the EU’s Special Representative for the South Caucasus and the Crisis in Georgia and OSCE’s Special Representative for the OSCE Chairperson-in-Office for the South Caucasus, all of which have built relationships with relevant actors on the ground.

Recommendations

Britain’s niche as a champion and advocate of a strategic approach to peaceful change can be secured post-Brexit in the following ways.  

First, in-house expertise is crucial to effective peacebuilding programming. The Foreign Office’s research analysts play a vital role in generating independent internal advice and liaising with academic and NGO communities. Their role could be supplemented by the reinstatement of a regional conflict adviser post, based in Tbilisi, tasked with strengthening Britain’s regional presence on conflict issues and coordinating policy at a regional level.

This post, with a remit to cover conflicts and build up area knowledge and relationships can contribute significantly to working closely with local civil societies, where so much expertise and knowledge resides, as well as other stakeholders.

Second, programming should build in conflict sensitivity by dissociating eligibility from contested political status. This can encourage local populations to take advantage of opportunities for funding, study, comparative learning and professional development irrespective of the status of the entity where they reside.

The Chevening Scholarships are an excellent example, whereby applicants can select ‘South Caucasus’ as their affiliated identity from a drop-down menu. This enables citizens from across the region to apply irrespective of the status of the territory in which they live.   

Finally, a holistic understanding of peace is crucial. Programming in unrecognized or partially-recognized entities should acknowledge that effective peacebuilding needs to embrace political dynamics and processes beyond cross-conflict contact and confidence building. Local actors in such entities may find peacebuilding funding streams defined exclusively in terms of cross-conflict contact more politically risky and ineffective in addressing domestic blockages to peace.

While cross-conflict dynamics remain critical, ‘single-community’ programming framed in terms of civic participation, inclusion, civil society capacity-building, minority and human rights in contested territories, and building the confidence from within to engage in constructive dialogue, are no less important.

The ’global Britain’ promised by Brexit remains a fanciful idea. Quiet, painstaking work to build on the legacies of a long-term British investment in a peace strategy for the South Caucasus, on the other hand, is a realistic and attainable goal.

Russia’s ongoing occupation of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula and support of separatist hostilities in the eastern provinces of Donbas have resulted in 1.5 million internally displaced persons, 3,000 civilians killed, and a growing list of alleged violations of international law and socio-economic hardship.

But Ukraine is struggling in its efforts to hold Russia accountable – either as a state or through individual criminal responsibility - as it cannot unilaterally ask any international court to give an overall judgment on the conflict.

So it focuses on narrower issues, referring them to authorised adjudication and arbitration platforms such as the International Court of Justice (ICJ), European Court of Human Rights, UNCLOS arbitration, and the International Criminal Court (ICC). These options are limited, but still worth taking - and their relevance is proving to be far wider than the Russia-Ukraine conflict.

Policy of cultural eradication

In 2017, Ukraine initiated proceedings against Russia at the ICJ on the basis of two international treaties: the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), with regard to Crimea; and the International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism (ICSFT), with regard to Donbas.

Under the CERD, Ukraine alleges Russia has carried out a policy of cultural eradication of ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars in Crimea, including enforced disappearances, no education in the Ukrainian and Crimean Tatar languages, and the ban of the Mejlis, the main representative body of the Crimean Tatars.

Under the ICSFT, Ukraine alleges Russia has supported terrorism by providing funds, weapons and training to illegal armed groups in eastern Ukraine. In particular Ukraine alleges Russian state responsibility - through its proxies - for downing the infamous MH17 flight.

Both these treaties are binding upon Ukraine and Russia and entitle an individual state party to refer a dispute concerning them to the ICJ, but certain procedural pre-conditions must first be exhausted. These include a failed attempt to settle a dispute either through negotiations or the CERD Committee (for the CERD) or unsuccessful negotiations and arbitration (for the ICSFT).

Russia challenged Ukraine’s compliance with the pre-conditions, but the ICJ disagreed with Russia’s submission that Ukraine had to resort both to negotiations and to the CERD Committee. For the first time, the court clarified these procedures under the CERD were two means to reach the same aim, and therefore alternative and not cumulative.

Requiring states to avail of both procedures before going to the ICJ would undermine the very purpose of the CERD to eliminate racial discrimination promptly, and ensure the availability of effective domestic protection and remedies.

The relevance of this clarification transcends the Ukraine-Russia dispute. With the rise of discriminatory practices, from populist hate-filled rhetoric endangering vulnerable communities to large-scale persecution such as that of the Rohingyas, the UN’s principal judicial body is sending a clear larger message to the world: such practices are unacceptable and must be dealt with expeditiously and efficiently. If states fail to do so, there are now fewer procedural impediments to do it internationally.

The ICJ also confirmed Ukraine had complied with both procedural preconditions under the ICSFT and that it would give judgement on the alleged failure of Russia to take measures to prevent the financing of terrorism. The outcome of this will be of great importance to the international community, given the general lack of international jurisprudence on issues of terrorism.

The court’s interpretation of knowledge and intent in terrorism financing, as well as clarification of the term ‘funds’, is particularly relevant both for the Ukraine-Russia case and for international law.

As the final judgement may take several years, the ICJ granted some provisional measures requested by Ukraine in April 2017. The court obliged Russia to ensure the availability of education in Ukrainian and enable the functioning of the Crimean Tatar representative institutions, including the Mejlis.

When Russia contested Ukraine’s references to the alleged Stalin-ordered deportation of the Crimean Tatars and the rule of law in the Soviet Union being hypocritical, by arguing that history did not matter, the court disagreed.

In fact, Judge James Crawford emphasised the relevance of the ‘historical persecution’ of Crimean Tatars and the role of Mejlis in advancing and protecting their rights in Crimea ‘at the time of disruption and change’.

These conclusions are important reminders that the historical inheritance of injustices inflicted on vulnerable groups should be taken into account when nations address their imperial legacies.

The court’s provisional measures and Judge Crawford’s position are particularly relevant in light of Russia’s policy of the total - territorial, historical, cultural – ‘russification’ of Crimea, as they highlight the role of the historical background for assessing the alleged discriminatory and prosecutorial policy of Russia’s occupying authorities against the Crimean Tatars.

The ICJ’s judgement on the merits of this as well as other human rights, and terrorism issues of Crimea and Donbas will be an important consideration for the international community in its view of the Russia-Ukraine armed conflict and the sanctions policy against Russia.

The development of this case also has a mutually catalysing impact on Ukraine’s efforts to establish those individually criminally responsible for atrocities in Crimea and Donbas, through domestic proceedings and through the International Criminal Court.

Ukraine’s attempts to seek individual criminal responsibility for gross abuses in Donbas and Crimea at the International Criminal Court (ICC) are assessed in part two of this series, coming soon.