Thursday, April 30, 2020

Four Scenarios for Europe's future


Four scenarios for Europe’s future after the crisis
by Philippe Pochet on 30th April 2020 @philippepochet
What kind of Europe will take shape after the coronavirus crisis? Four scenarios, widely varying in their social and ecological consequences, are possible.
Philippe Pochet

It’s now clear the Covid-19 pandemic will have major, long-term consequences. In the European Union, the very foundations of European integration are being questioned.
The EU is defined by its ‘pillars’: the single market and free movement, the euro and the Stability and Growth Pact, and competition and state-aid law. These three pillars are being shaken by the pandemic and they are sure to be at the centre of debates on the future of Europe.
National borders
As regards the free movement of people, the closing once more of national borders has been a highly symbolic trend, demonstrating that ‘other’ Europeans are still considered as potentially dangerous, disease-carrying foreigners. This poses very delicate questions. When and under what conditions (health, economic, political) will a reopening be considered—without engendering too much risk? And at what scale—the Schengen area or groups of countries with similar risk levels (Benelux, the Baltic states, the Iberian peninsula), as the European Commission seems to be suggesting?
Bottom of Form
In the absence of a common approach to managing the health crisis, most likely will be the persistence of more or less tight internal borders for a long time. As for the EU’s external borders, the example of China suggests strict ‘cocooning’ of the national territory vis-à-vis the outside world, having overcome the internal health crisis, is set to be the norm.
In the context of a monetary union devoid of solidarity mechanisms and without supranational political governance, the rules of the Stability and Growth Pact have been (temporarily) suspended—in sharp contrast to the eurozone crisis. But, here again, what will happen after? There are different ways of financing budget deficits and state debts, which are bound to explode. The consequences of these seemingly technical choices vary greatly in terms of their fiscal and, manifestly, social impact. Whether we resort to ‘helicopter’ money or ‘coronabonds’ or stick to the European Stability Mechanism—how the recovery is financed and what type of recovery it is—will greatly affect the future.
Moreover, are the institutional innovations being adopted temporary or longer-term—is the SURE initiative (supporting short-time work arrangements) the beginning of an EU unemployment-reinsurance system? And while the previous crisis did not allow of any progress towards the supranational governance of the currency, this one will be the last opportunity to do so.
Finally, the relaxation of state-aid restrictions and the rescue of companies in distress will reconfigure what is considered possible and legitimate. At stake is the legitimacy of the state to intervene in economic life. The effects of this crisis on the real economy will last for a long time, meaning that Europe will not soon get back to normal.
This in turn allows different choices from before. Will the role of the state in the economy, whether direct or indirect, be focused on ‘rescuing’ traditional sectors (air transport, oil or vehicle production) or will it be to push us towards an ecological transformation?
Different foundations
The post-crisis EU—assuming it survives—could have very different foundations if the questioning of the three pillars continues. But in which global environment is this set to happen? There are four possible scenarios.



The first (contrary to what I have written before) is a possible return to neoliberal orthodoxy—a  bit like the previous crisis (2008-13), when Europe reverted even more radically to neoliberal fundamentals after a more or less green recovery in 2009. This was what eminent researchers have called the strange non-death of neoliberalism. This scenario is unlikely this time but not to be ruled out.
True, it’s difficult to see austerity being applied to the public sector in one or two years’ time. Yet the reactions of certain national employer organisations, growing tensions within certain states (and the conflict in the United States between governors and the president) and the bailouts of industrial and service sectors without real social or environmental conditions point in this direction.
The second scenario is the Chinese path, under which we move towards a more authoritarian state monitoring a country’s population via new means based on artificial intelligence, with restrictions put on sometimes quite fundamental freedoms in exchange for a feeling of protection (purportedly of the country’s territory). The fact that this health crisis could be recurrent opens up possibilities for more authoritarian governments, such as in Hungary and Poland, to assert themselves as the guarantors of their citizens’ safety and security.
This scenario goes hand-in-hand with global fragmentation and a more or less radical ‘deglobalisation’. Here again, the example of the US under Donald Trump, above all with the possibility of a second term, is telling. The relevant unit becomes the national territory—with social control ramped up with the help of 5G networks.
Growth at any price
The third scenario is a return to growth at any price, with unfettered catch-up consumption without any consideration for the environment. Reminiscent of the Belle Époque, this would be nothing less than an end-of-the-world party. While it would obviously have a positive impact on conventional economic indicators (such as gross domestic product) and would reduce bankruptcies and unemployment in the short and medium term, it would have major long-term consequences.
The calls of certain governments, such as in the Czech Republic, and sectoral actors to forget the European Green Deal underline the strength of this scenario. And should consumption not really pick up again, calls for recovery would give new impetus to demands for less account to be taken of environmental concerns and for greater labour-market ‘flexibility’ at the expense of workers. Seen this way, the third scenario could greatly resemble the first.
The final scenario involves accelerating the ecological transition and rapidly rethinking our growth model, with a return to public services, common goods and solidarity at the heart of the economy and social affairs. We are seeing the seeds of this, with several governments and civil-society players supporting the Green Deal and certain cities, such as Paris and Brussels, showing the way to a faster transition—albeit one very difficult to complete amid high unemployment and economic crisis.
Two factors are set to have a decisive influence. The first is the partial relocation of production chains and a certain environmental protectionism, which in extremis could have a lot in common with the second, nationalistic scenario. The key question would be whether co-operative protectionism (aimed at achieving the same goal) rather than antagonistic protectionism (winning against others) gained the upper hand.
The second and key factor is reduction of working time. It constitutes a dividing line between the neoliberal restoration and this recovery-at-all-costs scenario and comprises a strategic tipping-point. In my view it is strategically the most important aspect in structuring upcoming debates.
These scenarios are not mutually exclusive and can be combined and developed in parallel in different regions of the world, depending on the relevant balance of power. It might only take a little to switch from one to another. The strategy of collective actors will therefore play a key role—with consequences for the way the architectural pillars of the EU are transformed.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Iran's Revolutionary Guards Play Politics with the Coronavirus

A volunteer in the Basij militia sanitizes a bus station in Tehran, Iran, April 2020.
Ali Khara / WANA / Reuters
In February, Iran emerged as an epicenter of the COVID-19 pandemic. The government swiftly proved incapable of handling the outbreak. Officials downplayed the seriousness of the crisis even as reports surfaced of Iranians dying by the hundreds. The death toll soon surpassed 1,000 and reached more than 5,000 by mid-April, according to official figures—which no doubt underestimate the body count.
The domestic rivals of Iran’s civilian-led government are now trying to capitalize on the administration’s bungled response. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, an influential branch of the armed forces often aligned with the conservative religious establishment, has taken measure of mounting public anger at the government and has rushed to present itself as the actor more capable of containing the outbreak. Whatever the public health merits of the Revolutionary Guards’ actions, the public relations strategy is clear: the IRGC hopes to gain from this crisis at the expense of the pragmatic Iranian President Hassan Rouhani and his allies. By bidding to style themselves as Iran’s saviors, the guards could further undermine the government and help conservatives oust moderates in next year’s presidential elections.

POWER POLITICS

Tensions between the government and the IRGC have been escalating ever since Rouhani took office in 2013. From the start of his presidency, Rouhani has worked to contain the IRGC’s economic power and its sprawling business networks. Despite the guards’ opposition, he bulldozed ahead with reforms designed to make the economy more transparent so as to ultimately attract banks and businesses back to Iran after the conclusion of the 2015 Iran nuclear deal.
But in 2019, U.S. President Donald Trump designated the IRGC as a “Foreign Terrorist Organization,” a move that effectively tilted the domestic power struggle between the Rouhani government and the guards in the IRGC’s favor. If Rouhani continued to press against the IRGC’s economic influence, he risked appearing to be aligned with the United States. The Iranian president has since backed away from his aggressive posture toward the guards in order to protect himself and his allies from that accusation.
Even under favorable conditions, the guards have created problems for themselves.
Even under favorable conditions, however, the guards have created problems for themselves. A series of particularly disastrous failures and public relations gaffes has bedeviled the IRGC in recent months. In January, the guards mistakenly downed a Ukrainian airliner in an attempt to retaliate against the United States’ targeted killing of Major General Qasem Soleimani, one of the group’s most important commanders. All passengers and crew aboard the aircraft were killed. After initially denying any involvement in the crash, the guards admitted their role but never took full responsibility: no high-ranking IRGC officials resigned or lost their positions.
The IRGC had hoped to showcase a decisive and spectacular response to Soleimani’s death by striking two bases in Iraq that housed U.S. troops, but the destruction of the Ukrainian jet overshadowed the missile attacks. To make matters worse, the regime initiated a flimsy cover-up and exhibited a general lack of accountability—particularly within the IRGC—which renewed public discontent.
Just two months earlier, in November 2019, security forces (including IRGC units) had put down social unrest by killing several hundred civilians in just 72 hours. The crackdown was the most violent and rapid since the 1979 revolution. Now, protests greeted the mishandling of the Ukrainian airliner incident, and the regime feared a revival of the earlier unrest, juiced by fury over both the crackdown and the shootdown.

#WHERESROUHANI?

Rouhani’s struggle to slow the spread of COVID-19, the disease caused by the novel coronavirus, offered the guards an opportunity to rehabilitate their image at home and abroad. The virus spread at shocking speed in Iran, even though the country’s health-care system is relatively well developed. The government is largely responsible for the scale of the outbreak. Authorities downplayed the risk of the infection even as one official after another tested positive for the virus. They refused to impose a lockdown after a spate of cases turned up in the holy city of Qom, claiming that quarantines were not a twenty-first-century solution to a twenty-first-century problem. Deputy Health Minister Iraj Harirchi insisted that such measures were a relic of “the situation before World War I.” And authorities went ahead with parliamentary elections in late February, encouraging people to go to the polls despite the risk of infection. When the government finally imposed restrictions and encouraged social distancing in March, they were already too late to stop the spread of the disease.
Rouhani’s government was clearly overwhelmed as infection rates soared in February and early March. In the eyes of his conservative critics, the president was missing in action. They took to social media to push the hashtag #WheresRouhani? Conservative parliamentarians echoed the Internet clamor, issuing a statement that highlighted the ineptitude of Rouhani’s team.
The IRGC saw an opportunity to assert its leadership.
The IRGC, too, saw an opportunity to assert its leadership, projecting itself as the guardian of public health and the champion of the fight against the invisible enemy. On both traditional and social media, the guards showed themselves extending aid to those in need, from distributing funds to ramping up the domestic production of test kits, masks, and equipment. They even unveiled a device that they claimed could detect COVID-19 infections from 100 meters away, although it is not clear that the instrument has any real use beyond eye-catching propaganda.
IRGC commanders announced that they would donate 20 percent of their salaries to relief efforts. Representatives of the guards were photographed disinfecting streets, cars, and trees. Together with their affiliated Basij militias, the guards have even assumed the responsibility of issuing death certificates, a power that allows the IRGC to steer the media narrative by suppressing the number of fatalities associated with COVID-19.
Unsurprisingly, some of the guards’ plans directly compete with those of the government, such as a scheme to disperse financial assistance to low-income Iranians. The overlap is deliberate and is meant to tout the efficacy of the guards in comparison to the government. That strategy isn’t new. In the past, the IRGC has turned major disasters, including earthquakes and floods, into public relations campaigns that show the organization as decisive and adept where the government is slow and inept.

ON THE COVID CAMPAIGN TRAIL

The guards hope to demonstrate that their competence stands in stark contrast to Rouhani’s incompetence. In so doing, they hope to deny Rouhani a victory in his final year in office. Iran will hold presidential elections in the first half of 2021. Rouhani cannot run for a third term, but discrediting him may help propel a conservative or a hard-liner (perhaps one affiliated with the guards) into power at the expense of a moderate.
Rouhani’s bloc has virtually no accomplishments to celebrate on the campaign trail. The president spent most of his tenure trying to secure a nuclear deal (which was signed in 2015) and then trying to salvage it after Trump withdrew from the agreement in 2018. The sanctions imposed by the Trump administration have exacted a heavy toll on the Iranian economy and left it ill-equipped to fend off the pandemic. But they have also helped feed the IRGC narrative that the United States seeks to hurt Iran and that Rouhani’s attempts to broker deals with Washington were naive.
To drive the message home, media outlets associated with the guards have showcased the IRGC’s international proxy network providing relief to Iranians even as the West piles on more sanctions. Tasnim News, for instance, ran a story about members of Iraqi Shiite militias helping disinfect religious sites in Qom. The goal is not only to show the value of Iran’s proxies (on whom the IRGC lavishes, by some estimates, billions of dollars) but also to demonstrate that these groups are the country’s real international partners. The guards hope to paint the attempts of moderates such as Rouhani to engage with the West as foolhardy and bound to fail.
The COVID-19 outbreak in Iran is inextricable from the country’s internal power struggle. The government’s mishandling of the pandemic has hurt Rouhani’s bloc and the civilian-led executive branch within the Islamic Republic. And it has provided an opportunity for the IRGC to try to make up for its recent failures. How Iranians perceive the government and the guards in the aftermath of the outbreak will likely influence elections in 2021, which in turn will shape Iran’s future relations with the United States.

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

COVID -19 Could Bring Down the Trading System

A broadcast showing Trump during a trading session in Frankfurt, Germany, March 2020
Ralph Orlowski / Reuters
For three years, the administration of U.S. President Donald Trump has attacked the global trading system. Now other forces are battering international trade. The pandemic spread of COVID-19, the disease caused by the novel coronavirus, is stoking new pressure for protectionism, and the World Trade Organization (WTO) needs to prepare for more countries to capitulate under the strain.
If the trend is left unchecked, the world may repeat the experience of the 1930s, when industrial production fell by nearly 40 percent, unemployment soared, and economic activity remained anemic for the better part of a decade. Then as now, trade barriers did not cause the problems. America’s Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act did not trigger the Great Depression, and tariffs today will not have caused the COVID-19 depression. But such barriers could affect the recovery, especially given the modern importance of cross-border supply chains. What happens now will influence the shape the trading system will take for decades to come.

THE TARIFFS ARE COMING

No one should be surprised if the Trump administration uses the current situation as a pretext for imposing new trade barriers. Trump has shown that he is happy to apply vast trade restrictions in good economic times, even over the objections of American business. Tariffs on tens of billions of dollars of steel and aluminum are still in place. The administration reached a temporary truce with China in February, but most of the trade war tariffs remain, still affecting more than half of two-way trade. Now come the bad economic times—and a presidential election. Trump will need someone to blame for the mass unemployment and bankruptcies that COVID-19 is leaving in its wake. If and when he picks foreigners as that scapegoat, his natural next step will be further protectionism.
Other countries have shown remarkable restraint during Trump’s first three years in office, in that they have not escalated matters with disproportionate protectionism of their own. Perhaps their leaders were waiting for Trump’s tenure to end, hoping to keep the rules-based trading system going as long as necessary for the United States—the system’s architect and leading member—to return to its historical role. With the exception of China, countries largely kept their responses to Trump’s aggression in line with the WTO’s fraying rulebook. They also mostly acted in solidarity and refrained from lashing out at one another. The European Union even took the opportunity to pen new trade deals with Canada, Japan, Brazil, and Argentina, portraying itself as a champion of multilateralism and international cooperation.
The pandemic, however, has strained that solidarity. Trade barriers within Europe have sprung up remarkably quickly. In March, France and Germany banned sales of vital hospital equipment outside of national borders, including to virus-ravaged Italy. The European Commission had to step in with a compromise: member states could limit exports of medical supplies to everyone else, so long as they played nice with one another. With that arrangement, Brussels salvaged internal harmony—at the cost of the moral authority on multilateralism that Europe had worked so hard to maintain during the age of Trump.
Export protectionism is contagious: the United Kingdom, South Korea, Brazil, India, Turkey, Russia, and dozens of other countries have restricted foreign sales of medical supplies, pharmaceuticals, and even food. But nativist economic practices carry risks, the most serious of which may play out not during the pandemic but after it, when industrial production restarts.
Export protectionism is contagious.
Much of Europe’s manufacturing sector rightly shut down to help limit the public health effects from the coronavirus. But the asynchronous timing of the global pandemic may mean that countries outside of Europe reopen their economies earlier than Europe does. When hundreds of billions of euros in shoes, electronics, chemicals, and other low-priced goods suddenly show up at ports in Rotterdam and Hamburg, European industry will surely kick up a fuss, demanding tariff protection from the onslaught of unfair trade. Moreover, China might try to get its depressed economy going again by subsidizing manufacturing in the manner that led Europe, the United States, and others to complain of unfair trading practices in the first place. Since Chinese products will remain mostly walled off from the United States owing to the trade war, Brussels will be an important bellwether.
But governments outside of Europe will also come under pressure to protect domestic industries, and European exporters will face the brunt of such measures in foreign markets. Companies everywhere can and will seek relief from imports by asking their governments to hit foreign competitors with many forms of tariffs. The WTO’s conditions for levying tariffs are pretty accommodating. An industry needs to show that it has been injured—not a difficult bar to clear given current economic hardships. After that, a common argument industries will make is that foreigners should be punished for doing something unfair.
One tariff catch phrase that will soon creep into public discourse is “countervailing duty.” The term describes an anti-subsidy tariff that is used to discourage unfair competition arising from state intervention in markets. Governments are currently allocating trillions of dollars to keep companies afloat. In the aftermath of COVID-19, lots of imports will arrive on foreign shores from companies that got bailouts. Under WTO rules, it matters little if the domestic industry got a handout, too, or if the foreign subsidy was sensible economic policy at the time. The rules allow for both sides to subsidize and both sides to reciprocate with anti-subsidy tariffs, as inefficient an outcome as that may seem.
In fact, while problematic, that scenario would be far from the worst case. Some governments may ignore WTO rules altogether, mimic Trump’s actions on steel and aluminum, and claim that imports need to be stopped because the trade poses a threat to their national security. Or they may justify tariffs as a necessary response to the public health emergency, as Brussels effectively did with its export controls on medical supplies.

THIS TIME IS DIFFERENT

Only a coordinated political commitment among global leaders will prevent an onslaught of protectionism in these extraordinary times. The WTO rules actually make such protectionism likely in the absence of an upfront plan to stop it. But no such global policy commitment has materialized. We know this, because we know what action against tariffs during a global economic crisis looks like.
The financial crisis of 2008 also produced an economic collapse sharp and deep enough to threaten the modern trading system. Ever since the devastation of the 1930s, the fear has been that economic hardship would cause trade barriers to rocket out of control. Yet the last global recession turned out to produce a shockingly low level of protection. Trade barriers did not shoot up, in part because of the domestic policy response of the U.S. and other governments: large government spending programs, central bank interventions, and flexible exchange rates that ensured that the dollar and euro especially did not remain excessively strong. These policies were significantly different from those that greeted the Great Depression.
WTO rules make protectionism likely in the absence of plans to stop it.
Protectionism was also limited because leaders of the major economies got out ahead of the problem. In November 2008, despite not yet knowing the full severity of the economic crisis, the George W. Bush administration brought together leaders of 20 industrialized and major emerging economies in a new G-20, where the attendees made an important pledge: “We underscore the critical importance of rejecting protectionism and not turning inward in times of financial uncertainty. In this regard, within the next 12 months, we will refrain from raising new barriers to investment or to trade in goods and services, imposing new export restrictions, or implementing World Trade Organization (WTO) inconsistent measures to stimulate exports.”
The timing of the 2008 crisis was hardly ideal. Lehman Brothers collapsed, the U.S. financial and automobile sectors needed bailouts, and millions of Americans suddenly found themselves out of work. To make matters worse, the U.S. government was in the midst of a transition: the Bush administration was about to turn out the lights after eight years in office, and Barack Obama would not begin until January 20, 2009.
The Bush administration was both a lame duck and deeply unpopular abroad. The international reputation of the United States was still reeling from the Iraq war. Tensions had escalated with China due to its undervalued exchange rate. Even trade was not going well, as the Doha Round of WTO negotiations had collapsed into acrimony in July. To its credit, the U.S. administration overcame all those obstacles to put together a Washington summit that ultimately helped the trading system survive.
Admittedly, the global disharmony that the Bush administration overcame in 2008 pales in comparison with the bitterness and distrust today.

A LOW STARTING POINT

Thus far, Trump has followed his usual playbook in his trade response to COVID-19. U.S. hospitals faced dire shortages of personal protective equipment. Still, the administration waited until March 17 to grudgingly remove trade war tariffs on respirators and surgical masks from China, where nearly 75 percent of U.S. mask imports are produced. Ten days later, Trump appointed Peter Navarro, a top trade adviser, China hawk, and leading proponent of tariffs, to direct COVID-19 supply chain and trade policy. The administration then almost immediately invoked the Defense Production Act and mimicked Brussels’s beggar-thy-neighbor policy by limiting American exports of respirators and masks, too.
On March 30, the G-20 trade ministers had a virtual meeting. They made little mention of the coming protectionist pressure or what to do about it. To the contrary, U.S. Trade Representative Robert Lighthizer, a trade skeptic, took the opportunity to blame the COVID-19 crisis on trade itself: “Unfortunately, like others, we are learning in this crisis that over-dependence on other countries as a source of cheap medical products and supplies has created a strategic vulnerability to our economy.”
The joint statement coming out of the G-20 meeting was “not as ambitious” as he had wanted, EU Trade Commissioner Phil Hogan confessed. But France and Germany were partly to blame for having left a mess for Brussels to clean up. Instead of countering the calls for protection, Hogan had to explain why the EU’s own protectionist export controls on medical supplies weren’t as bad as they looked.

WHO WILL STEP UP?

Even if Trump had never come along, COVID-19 would have put the trading system to a stiff test. But Trump has left the WTO less prepared than it might have been. Unlike in 2008, this time there is little hope that immediate leadership will come out of Washington.
Saving the rules-based trading system from a crisis of widespread protectionism will require creativity and foresight from somewhere else. Squint hard enough and some hopeful signs are visible. Trump torpedoed the WTO’s system of resolving trade disputes in late 2019—in response, the European Union organized a workaround, signing up a number of major economies outside of the United States to a framework to resolve their differences harmoniously. And a group of smaller economies—led by Canada and Australia—has put forward an antiprotectionist trade statement on COVID-19 that is more aggressive than any the G-20 could agree on.
Trump has left the WTO less prepared than it might have been.
Governments of the major economies must do more, and quickly. They should not let Washington’s current dysfunction hold them back. At a minimum, countries will need to channel potentially unstoppable demands for protection into the WTO system’s most transparent, time-limited, and least distorting instruments. A special tariff called a “safeguard” satisfies those criteria and may be the best option. Safeguards are for emergencies, when imports surge and threaten to further damage industry, and they do not require assigning blame to foreigners. Applying one will not tangle policymakers in esoteric arguments over which subsidies granted in response to COVID-19 are “unfair”—a topic unworthy of litigation during a pandemic in which nearly everyone is treating state aid like Monopoly money.
The failure to anticipate and prepare for the coming demand for trade protection could be catastrophic. Starting the trading system over from scratch would be not only extremely difficult but incredibly costly, as there would surely be an interim in which no system functioned at all. But as with containing the pandemic, shoring up trade cannot be any one nation’s sole endeavor. Until the pandemic is contained everywhere, it is a worry anywhere. The same is true for protectionism.
    AUTHOR BIO
  • CHAD P. BOWN is Reginald Jones Senior Fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics and a cohost of the Trade Talks podcast.

Monday, April 27, 2020

How Trump Can End the War in Syria

Protesters hold Syrian opposition flags on the M4 highway in Idlib, Syria, March 2020 
Khalil Ashawi / Reuters
In the summer of 2011, as Syria’s peaceful protest movement began mutating into a full-blown civil war, Syrian opposition activists begged U.S. President Barack Obama to aid their efforts to oust the country’s authoritarian leader, Bashar al-Assad. The dissidents were received with great warmth and sympathy by State Department officials and by lawmakers from both political parties, but the Obama administration—already focused on preventing Iran from developing nuclear weapons and keen to avoid the quagmire of a sectarian conflict—declined to intervene. For the next five and a half years, as the war in Syria killed hundreds of thousands of people and displaced millions, Obama offered rhetorical and humanitarian support to the Syrian rebels but little more; he repeatedly failed to take the kind of decisive action that might have ended Assad’s brutal rule or changed the course of the bloody conflict.
Since entering office in 2017, U.S. President Donald Trump has faced frequent criticism for his lack of a coherent foreign policy and apparent disdain for traditional diplomacy. But Trump has shown himself to be capable of bold decision-making and unafraid of confrontation. In the case of Syria, for example, Trump twice responded to Assad’s use of chemical weapons with immediate retaliatory airstrikes—in stark contrast with his predecessor, who called chemical weapons a “red line,” then stood passively by when Assad used them against Syrian civilians. Although his contradictory statements may frustrate foreign policy analysts and long-standing U.S. allies alike, Trump’s ad hoc, reactive approach to international challenges has often proved more effective than his detractors would like to admit. Even Trump’s decisions to cancel the Iran nuclear deal and to assassinate the Iranian Quds Force commander, Major General Qasem Soleimani—arguably the most audacious and controversial foreign policy moves of his presidency—have thus far failed to produce the catastrophic consequences that were so widely predicted in their immediate aftermath.
Assad loyalists are now openly questioning the regime’s legitimacy.
It is time for Trump to act boldly once again by striking a grand bargain on Syria. Thanks to an unusual set of economic, geopolitical, and epidemiological circumstances, the Trump administration has a historic opportunity to put an end to the conflict that has ravaged the country for nearly nine years. Syria’s economy had been deteriorating over the course of the long war, but over the last several months, the financial crisis in neighboring Lebanon has pushed it into a state of complete collapse. Syria’s military is badly debilitated, causing Assad loyalists to openly question the regime’s legitimacy for the first time. Russia and Turkey, which back opposing sides in the conflict, each face significant internal economic woes of their own—now suddenly exacerbated by the arrival of the novel coronavirus. The so-called Astana peace process, which was laid out in a 2017 deal between Iran, Russia, and Turkey, is breaking down, with a diminished Iran increasingly acting as a spoiler. Even a March 5 cease-fire agreement between Russia and Turkey in Idlib, Syria’s last remaining opposition stronghold, has begun to fray, mere weeks after it was signed. By acting quickly and offering both countries—and especially Russia—face-saving paths out of a fight they can no longer afford, the United States can conclude the war in Syria once and for all.

ECONOMIC COLLAPSE

In regime-controlled areas of Syria, the economy is in ruins. Fuel and cooking gas are scarce, and shortages of basic goods, combined with a plummeting Syrian pound, have sent prices soaring. For the first time in decades, wheat shortages now threaten the government bread subsidies that are a critical underpinning of the regime’s legitimacy. In a desperate bid to hide its inability to provide Syrians with enough bread, the government has launched “innovative” new distribution methods: doling out bread from trucks instead of traditional bakeries and issuing ration cards equipped with electronic chips to each household; if Syrians don’t receive bread to feed their families, the government can now argue that it is because they didn’t run fast enough to catch the bread truck or carelessly damaged the delicate chips on their ration cards. Electricity cuts are constant, and once staunch supporters of the regime have begun openly criticizing Assad and his cronies, calling out the rampant corruption that has pushed millions of people into abject poverty.
Assad’s air force is now so weak that, in February, Turkey was able to impose an air embargo over Idlib using just two F-16 fighter jets alongside a fleet of drones. The last time Syria purchased military aircraft in large quantities was in 1983 (although it acquired a small number in 1996). At present, Assad has only about 30 functioning aircraft, and his government lacks spare parts to repair them when they break down. The Syrian army, too, is exhausted and demoralized. After months preparing for a heroic last fight to “liberate” the northwestern region of Idlib, the troops were shocked when their advance was prematurely halted by a March 5 cease-fire between Russia and Turkey—a cease-fire agreement concerning Syrian territory, yet concluded without any involvement from Syria’s president. For many soldiers, learning that their leader had been excluded from the cease-fire discussions was a moment of horrifying revelation that laid bare the truth about their leader’s subservience to Russia.  

RUSSIAN AMBITIONS

Although the war in Syria is one of the most complex of the modern era, Russian President Vladimir Putin’s reasons for entering it in September 2015 were relatively straightforward. Putin hoped to raise Russia’s status and to burnish his own international reputation. By making Russia indispensable in the campaign against the Islamic State (or ISIS), Putin hoped to make his country an equal partner with the West in the fight against terrorism, much like the Soviet Union partnered with the Allies to defeat Nazism. Putin made this vision explicit when, in a speech at the United Nations shortly before the Russian intervention in Syria, he praised the post–World War II Yalta conference for laying a “solid foundation for the postwar world order.” It is not a stretch to say that Putin hoped that, by involving Russia in the war in Syria, he would later find himself in the position of Stalin at Yalta, meeting with the leaders of the world’s other great powers and reorganizing the world into spheres of influence.
Things have not turned out that way. Russia has now reached the absolute limit of what it can achieve in Syria, whether for the purposes of selling weapons or burnishing its reputation before the international community. Further engagement in Syria now threatens to actually damage Russia’s image by exposing the failure of its weapons against Turkey’s superior arsenal. Syria’s military depends entirely on Russia’s unconditional support, and there are clear signs that Russians are losing patience with Assad and questioning the wisdom of continuing to assist his regime. Last week, a Russian news agency owned by a close Putin ally published a blistering attack on Assad’s weakness and corruption. The news that Assad recently spent $30 million on a David Hockney painting as a gift for his wife, Asma, was first reported in a Russian outlet, too. But most damning of all for the Syrian regime was a recent article by Russia’s former ambassador to Syria, Aleksandr Aksenenok, in which he argued that Assad is obsessed with military victory, increasingly divorced from reality, and incapable of rebuilding postwar Syria and turning it into a functional country once again.
Putin hoped to find himself in the position of Stalin at Yalta.
With oil prices hitting new lows, Putin badly needs new sources of revenue. A peace deal that enabled the launch of reconstruction projects would offer Russia a chance to recoup some of the money it has spent supporting Assad—by providing Russian businesses with a stream of lucrative reconstruction-related contracts—and also hand Putin an international political victory. Putin won’t give up on the idea of a leading role for Russia in postwar Syria, but he will readily abandon Assad himself as a means to that end.  
The Trump administration should focus, first and foremost, on bringing Russia to the table. But Turkey, too, badly needs a deal. Its domestic economic situation is deteriorating, and tensions within the ruling Justice and Development Party, known as the AKP, are increasing. For Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the human and financial toll of the Syrian intervention have become unsustainable. Turkey cannot succeed in Syria without NATO support, and Erdogan fears a sudden American withdrawal from Syria’s northeast. Since the March 5 cease-fire in Idlib, Turkey has begun, tentatively, to cooperate with Russia. But Erdogan relies on American military aid, provided both bilaterally and through NATO, and will welcome the Trump administration’s involvement in bringing the conflict to an end.

A STEP TOWARD PEACE

The road map for bringing about a peaceful, Syrian-led democratic political transition already exists. It was laid out in UN Security Council Resolution 2254 and adopted unanimously in December 2015. But a cease-fire is the first step, and Trump should seize the opportunity to bring that about. In fact, he is probably the only world leader who is capable of doing so.
It is true that the United States doesn’t have the standing in the Middle East that it once had, but Putin won’t hesitate to follow Trump to the negotiating table—in part because it will flatter his “new Yalta” ambitions, but mostly because he has little choice. After striking a deal with Russia and ensuring Assad’s capitulation, Trump can approach Erdogan and from there set Syria on the path to a democratic transition and peaceful reconstruction. The war in Syria is messy; many interests will still need to be served and many problems resolved in the final agreement. But a deal with Russia and Turkey leading to a lasting cease-fire and Assad’s removal is the necessary first step; after that, the Kurds will readily get on board. Trump has demonstrated that he can act boldly. By striking a grand bargain on Syria, he would once again show the world that he can deliver tangible results.
    AUTHOR BIO
  • AYMAN ABDEL NOUR is President of Syrian Christians for Peace. 

Pandemic Response Reflects Unlearned Lessons of U.S.- China Trade War

Pandemic Response Reflects Unlearned Lessons of U.S.-
China Trade War
YUKON HUANG,  JEREMY SMITH
APRIL 27, 2020
ARTICLE

Nationalist and protectionist impulses have hampered the 
exchanges of knowledge and goods that foster economic 
growth. Similar failures of global coordination are now 
exacerbating the coronavirus pandemic.
As they awakened to the urgent need for cooperation, G20 leaders held an emergency virtual meeting on March 26 about the new coronavirus pandemic. Previously, multilateral coordination among the G7 and the UN Security Council had failed to yield so much as a joint statement, largely due to U.S. insistence on using the label “Wuhan virus.” On the eve of the G20 session, however, U.S. President Donald Trump had finally put a halt to the counterproductive war of words, and the participant nations and international organizations agreed to join forces against the pandemic. Following a phone call between Trump and Xi Jinping, his Chinese counterpart, senior health officials and diplomats from both countries agreed to set aside their differences.
A rhetorical pledge to work together is welcome but insufficient. Getting the virus under control and reactivating the global economy will require coordination not only between the world’s two biggest economies but also among individuals, businesses, and other governments worldwide. Despite the common goal of slowing the spread of the virus, these actors are pursuing their own incentives and motivations, which in turn are imposing costs on one another. Due to the nature of public goods, the world’s governments must collectively step in to manage health security. But as the U.S.-China trade war has revealed, the world may lack the necessary governance frameworks, leadership, and collective will to address such large-scale challenges.
TROUBLING TRADE WAR PRECEDENTS
As the trade war has shown, Trump’s continued fixation on bilateral trade deficits and China’s purchasing obligations under the January 2020 phase one trade agreement has obscured the underlying source of tensions: technology transfer and the flow of knowledge between nations. Although technology upgrades are important for growth in all economies, most frontier innovations take place in the world’s wealthiest countries. Because knowledge is a vital global public good, the global trading system established under World Trade Organization (WTO) guidelines was intended to promote knowledge diffusion from advanced economies to those in emerging markets. Global supply chains were expected to facilitate knowledge sharing and lower production costs.

Huang is a senior fellow in the Carnegie Asia Program, where his research focuses on China’s economy and its regional and global impact.

China understands this system better than anyone: a 2011 World Bank study demonstrated that no other country has absorbed foreign technology as thoroughly, thanks to Beijing’s comprehensive strategy. The United States views China’s success as an unfair affront to its economic competitiveness and geopolitical standing and as evidence of the naivete of economic integration. In response, the U.S. government has employed policy tools such as export controls and investment screening to restrict the diffusion of knowledge in defense of national security interests. Yet these measures inevitably carry costs.
In principle, the general public will be better off the more that knowledge is shared. This presents a challenge for firms, which need a commercial incentive to develop novel ideas and tend to worry about their ideas falling into the hands of competitors. In pursuit of profit, companies sometimes sell technologies that have military applications or enter into commercial relationships that create national security risks, such as U.S. semiconductor sales to China. Governments must then weigh those risks against the economic gains.
In its efforts to manage this complex tradeoff, Washington has overstated both the desirability and the feasibility of restricting global technology flows. Regrettably, China’s pursuit of technology has also been overly aggressive—often involving industrial espionage and intellectual property theft—and there are clear instances in which China has misused U.S. technology for malicious purposes. Both sides have taken matters too far, and they have been unable to agree on a sustainable solution that allows technology to flow to where it is most beneficial while still addressing legitimate security concerns. These trade war tensions have thus made clear the need for a broader governance framework to manage the global allocation of knowledge.

A PANDEMIC OF MISMANAGEMENT
As individuals, companies, and governments come together to contain the coronavirus, they are confronting these same challenges. The more the world collectively mobilizes and shares resources, the more the health of people everywhere will be enhanced.
Scientific researchers are playing a special role in efforts to address the crisis. The United States and China have the world’s most robust research relationship, but those links have come under attack during the trade war as the U.S. government has sought to slow technology transfer. While espionage should unquestionably be rooted out, state interventions in the name of domestic security harm scientific collaboration and often backfire. In one recent case, a University of Florida chemistry professor returned to China after coming under investigation and promptly developed a coronavirus test that generates results within forty minutes—a technology that might have helped the initial U.S. response to the virus.
At an individual level, there has been remarkable collaboration on coronavirus research, with scientists setting aside national identity and academic rivalry for the greater good. To the extent that researchers are acting out of self-interest, their greatest gains will be reputational rather than financial, so there is every reason for them to spread their ideas widely. Despite limited government transparency, scientists in China released genetic sequencing data for the coronavirus in early January, allowing researchers around the world to contribute to a collective epidemiological understanding of the threat. Inspired by the scientific community’s push for unencumbered access to research, a free and public compilation orchestrated by the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy now boasts over 24,000 scholarly papers on coronaviruses.
Meanwhile, companies are striving to meet the explosion of new demand for a variety of goods needed to fight the virus, including many that have yet to be developed. Nonetheless, firms may be unable or unwilling to meet society’s needs if left to their own devices. Consider the example of the competition to develop a vaccine for COVID-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus. Such innovations often take place at biotech companies like U.S.-based Moderna, which has made a monumental effort to bring a vaccine to the testing phase in record time. But companies of its small size are unequipped to manufacture a coronavirus vaccine at scale. To do so, they must work with larger pharmaceutical companies that may be reluctant to make the necessary upfront capital investment. In past epidemics such as SARS and Ebola, demand had waned by the time a vaccine was ready to be mass-produced. By contrast, the global nature of the COVID-19 outbreak and the fear of recurring waves of the pandemic create such an urgent need that governments will likely have to subsidize production.
As the leading innovator, the United States is at the forefront of drug and vaccine development. Yet its efforts to ensure an adequate supply of basic medical equipment for the coronavirus response have been an appalling failure. Take the example of medical face masks, 80 percent of which are produced in China (although often under the management of U.S. firms like 3M). As its own domestic outbreak worsened, China’s government mandated restrictions on mask exports. A similar situation has arisen in Malaysia, which produces two-thirds of the world’s medical gloves but lacks the capacity to meet heightened global demand, notwithstanding the impact of the virus within its own borders. After all, states have a primary obligation to protect the health and safety of their own citizens, and in times of crisis they cannot always be counted on to share.


Jeremy Smith is a James C. Gaither Junior Fellow with the Asia Program.

For hardliners and China hawks in the United States, these shortages only further justify the need for economic decoupling and reduced reliance on global supply chains. Without question, the present crisis has exposed an extreme concentration of critical resources. From an economic standpoint, however, total self-sufficiency is nonsensical; such a notion ignores the principle of comparative advantage and rejects the benefits of trade. It comes as little surprise that the United States does not specialize in the domestic production of masks.
Moreover, Washington’s woes have been partially self-inflicted: the federal government neglected to plan for this eventuality in the face of repeated warnings and never replenished the strategic reserves of medical supplies that were drawn down during the 2009 swine flu outbreak. Maintaining the strategic stockpile is the job of the federal government; individuals and companies cannot fund or coordinate such an effort. Ironically, shortages in the United States have been further exacerbated by tariffs on Chinese medical products. Notwithstanding these blunders, there is clearly a point at which security vulnerabilities become untenable, and some loss of economic efficiency must be tolerated. In the absence of effective global governance, however, countries have been left to fend for themselves, making individual vulnerabilities even more pronounced.
In formulating a strategy for containing the pandemic, just as for trade, governments are seeking to ensure the safety and economic well-being of their citizens. To be most effective, though, they should make decisions jointly, as the presence of the virus anywhere in the world is a threat to safety and economic activity everywhere. The World Health Organization (WHO) may intend to coordinate such an endeavor, but doing so would require more resources and authority than it currently possesses. Amid its limited efforts to ensure cooperation, the organization has already faced criticism for being too deferential to China. Nations can work together by comparing experiences and promoting effective policy strategies, but ultimately someone will need to coordinate fiscal policy and resource sharing.

BROKEN GLOBAL GOVERNANCE
For the past century, the world has looked to inspired U.S. leadership to overcome global crises. But despite an acute need, the United States has recently declined to play that role. Rather than seek to preserve order and openness in the international trading system that it helped design and nurture, the world’s leading economic power has furthered trade conflict by erecting barriers and imposing restrictions. The world now lacks a leader to represent the interests of both developing and developed economies in promoting prosperity.
The United States might once have been expected to organize a coalition to confront a global crisis, but America First nationalism has kept it from rising to the occasion during the coronavirus pandemic. Trump insists that a vaccine be produced on U.S. soil, and his administration has allegedly outbid countries like Canada, France, and Germany for scarce medical supplies or diverted shipments intended for them. In Trump’s worldview, it is better to make relative gains on rivals than to pursue strategies that would leave everyone better off. This winner-take-all mentality extends well beyond fostering the competition needed to drive innovation and is ultimately counterproductive.
China has appeared similarly unprepared to take up the mantle of leadership that the world needs. In 2005, then deputy secretary of state Robert Zoellick called upon China to become a “responsible stakeholder” and “strengthen the international system that has enabled its success.” Fifteen years on, China has yet to demonstrate either the capacity or the will to assume responsibility commensurate with its economic weight. China should have realized that the international community would not indefinitely tolerate controversial trade and investment practices. During the coronavirus outbreak, China’s initial cover-up, propagandistic rhetoric, and failure to meet international standards for product quality have hampered its efforts to earn the world’s trust in spite of its success in arresting the epidemic at home and its subsequent eagerness to support others.
Neither great power is meeting the world’s needs: one is losing the interest and sway needed to exercise global leadership and the other is not yet ready to do so. As some observers have noted, such a vacuum necessitates intervention by third parties, though none have stepped into the void. Europe remains divided in its foreign policy interests and preoccupied with its own pandemic response. The United States has undermined the key multilateral institutions responsible for global trade and health by blocking the appointment of judges to the WTO appellate court and recently announcing a halt to WHO funding. International financial institutions such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank are mainly designed to offer assistance to vulnerable economies; they lack mandates to deal with structural weaknesses in global governance by establishing ground rules or enforcing behavior. The UN Security Council might be able to play such a role, but it is often paralyzed by the veto power of its five permanent members. That has left the G20 to issue unenforceable statements pledging cooperation.
As the coronavirus pandemic has made the failures of global institutions even more apparent, something will soon have to give. Nationalism and protectionism cannot rebuild the global economy or combat viruses that know no borders. Supporting a balanced and orderly flow of goods, people, ideas, and public health services will require a new international consensus and a broader collaborative vision.

 Lessons