Tuesday, 31 December 2019 19:43
Written by
Robert Malley
A member of the Afghan security forces stands guard next to damaged army vehicles after a Taliban attack in Ghazni city, Afghanistan on 15 August 2018. REUTERS/Mustafa Andaleb
Friends and foes alike no longer know where the United States stands. As Washington overpromises and underdelivers, regional powers are seeking solutions on their own – both through violence and diplomacy.
Local conflicts serve as mirrors for global trends. The ways they ignite, unfold, persist, and are resolved reflect shifts in great powers’ relations, the intensity of their competition, and the breadth of regional actors’ ambitions. They highlight issues with which the international system is obsessed and those toward which it is indifferent. Today these wars tell the story of a global system caught in the early swell of sweeping change, of regional leaders both emboldened and frightened by the opportunities such a transition presents.
Only time will tell how much of the U.S.’s transactional unilateralism, contempt for traditional allies, and dalliance with traditional rivals will endure – and how much will vanish with Donald Trump’s presidency. Still, it would be hard to deny that something is afoot. The understandings and balance of power on which the global order had once been predicated – imperfect, unfair, and problematic as they were – are no longer operative. Washington is both eager to retain the benefits of its leadership and unwilling to shoulder the burdens of carrying it. As a consequence, it is guilty of the cardinal sin of any great power: allowing the gap between ends and means to grow. These days, neither friend nor foe knows quite where America stands.
The roles of other major powers are changing, too. China exhibits the patience of a nation confident in its gathering influence, but in no hurry to fully exercise it. It chooses its battles, focusing on self-identified priorities: domestic control and suppression of potential dissent (as in Hong Kong, or the mass detention of Muslims in Xinjiang); the South and East China Seas; the brewing technological tug of war with the U.S., of my own colleague Michael Kovrig – unjustly detained in China for over a year – has become collateral damage. Elsewhere, its game is a long one.
Russia, in contrast, displays the impatience of a nation grateful for the power these unusual circumstances have brought and eager to assert it before time runs out. Moscow’s policy abroad is opportunistic – seeking to turn crises to its advantage – though today that is perhaps as much strategy as it needs. Portraying itself as a truer and more reliable partner than Western powers, it backs some allies with direct military support while sending in private contractors to Libya and sub-Saharan Africa to signal its growing influence.
To all of these powers, conflict prevention or resolution carries scant inherent value.
To all of these powers, conflict prevention or resolution carries scant inherent value. They assess crises in terms of how they might advance or hurt their interests, how they could promote or undermine those of their rivals. Europe could be a counterweight, but at precisely the moment when it needs to step into the breach, it is struggling with domestic turbulence, discord among its leaders, and a singular preoccupation with terrorism and migration that often skews policy.
The consequences of these geopolitical trends can be deadly. Exaggerated faith in outside assistance can distort local actors’ calculations, pushing them toward uncompromising positions and encouraging them to court dangers against which they believe they are immune. In Libya, a crisis risks dangerous metastasis as Russia intervenes on behalf of a rebel general marching on the capital, the U.S. sends muddled messages, Turkey threatens to come to the government’s rescue, and Europe – a stone’s throw away – displays impotence amid internal rifts. In Venezuela, the government’s obstinacy, fuelled by faith that Russia and China will cushion its economic downfall, clashes with the opposition’s lack of realism, powered by U.S. suggestions it will oust President Nicolás Maduro.
Syria – a conflict not on this list – has been a microcosm of all these trends: there, the U.S. combined a hegemon’s bombast with a bystander’s pose. Local actors (such as the Kurds) were emboldened by U.S. overpromising and then disappointed by U.S. underdelivery. Meanwhile, Russia stood firmly behind its brutal ally, while others in the neighbourhood (namely, Turkey) sought to profit from the chaos.
The bad news might contain a sliver of good. As leaders understand the limits of allies’ backing, reality sinks in. Saudi Arabia, initially encouraged by the Trump administration’s apparent blank check, flexed its regional muscle until a series of brazen Iranian attacks and noticeable U.S. nonresponses showed the kingdom the extent of its exposure, driving it to seek a settlement in Yemen and, perhaps, de-escalation with Iran.
To many Americans, Ukraine evokes a sordid tale of quid pro quo and impeachment politics. But for its new president at the center of that storm, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, a priority is to end the conflict in that country’s east – an objective for which he appears to recognise the need for Kyiv to compromise.
Others might similarly readjust views: the Afghan government and other anti-Taliban powerbrokers, accepting that U.S. troops won’t be around forever; Iran and the Syrian regime, seeing that Russia’s newfound Middle East swagger hardly protects them against Israeli strikes. These actors may not all be entirely on their own, but with their allies’ support only going so far, they might be brought back down to earth. There is virtue in realism.
There’s another trend that warrants attention: the phenomenon of mass protests across the globe. It is an equal-opportunity discontent, shaking countries governed by both the left and right, democracies and autocracies, rich and poor, from Latin America to Asia and Africa. Particularly striking are those in the Middle East – because many observers thought that the broken illusions and horrific bloodshed that came in the wake of the 2011 uprisings would dissuade another round.
Protesters have learned lessons, settling in for the long haul and, for the most part, avoiding violence that plays in the hands of those they contest. Political and military elites have learned, too, of course – resorting to various means to weather the storm. In Sudan, arguably one of this past year’s better news stories, protests led to long-serving autocrat Omar al-Bashir’s downfall and ushered in a transition that could yield a more democratic and peaceful order. In Algeria, meanwhile, leaders have merely played musical chairs. In too many other places, they have cracked down. Still, in almost all, the pervasive sense of economic injustice that brought people onto the streets remains. If governments new or old cannot address that, the world should expect more cities ablaze this coming year.
1. Afghanistan
More people are being killed as a result of fighting in Afghanistan than in any other current conflict in the world. Yet there may be a window this coming year to set in motion a peace process aimed at ending the decades-long war.
Levels of bloodshed have soared over the past two years. Separate attacks by Taliban insurgents and Islamic State militants have rocked cities and towns across the country. Less visible is the bloodshed in the countryside. Washington and Kabul have stepped up air assaults and special-forces raids, with civilians often bearing the brunt of violence. Suffering in rural areas is immense.
Continuing with the status quo offers only the prospect of endless war.
Amid the uptick in violence, presidential elections took place in late September. Preliminary results, announced on 22 December, give incumbent President Ashraf Ghani a razor-thin margin over the 50 per cent needed to avoid a run-off. Final results, following adjudication of complaints, aren’t expected before late January. Ghani’s main opponent, Abdullah Abdullah, whose challenge to results based on widespread fraud in the 2014 election led to a protracted crisis and eventually a power-sharing deal, is crying foul this time too. Whether the dispute will lead to a second round of voting is unclear, but either way it will likely consume Afghan leaders into 2020.
Last year did, however, see some light in U.S.-Taliban diplomacy. For the first time since the war began, Washington has prioritised reaching a deal with the insurgents. After months of quiet talks, U.S. Envoy Zalmay Khalilzad and Taliban leaders agreed on and initialed a draft text. Under the deal, the U.S. pledged to pull its troops out of Afghanistan – the primary Taliban demand – and, in return, the insurgents promised to break from al-Qaeda, prevent Afghanistan from being used for plotting attacks abroad, and enter negotiations with the Afghan government as well as other key power brokers.
Hopes were dashed when Trump abruptly declared the talks dead in early September. He had invited Taliban leaders to Camp David, along with Ghani, and when the insurgents declined to come unless the agreement was signed first, Trump invoked a Taliban attack that killed a U.S. soldier as a reason to nix the agreement his envoy had inked.
After a prisoner swap in November appeared to have overcome Trump’s resistance, U.S. diplomats and Taliban representatives have started talking again, though whether they will return to the same understanding remains unclear. In reality, the U.S. has no better option than pursuing a deal with the Taliban. Continuing with the status quo offers only the prospect of endless war, while precipitously pulling U.S. forces out without an agreement could herald a return to the multifront civil war of the 1990s and even worse violence.
Any deal should pave the way for talks among Afghans, which means tying the pace of the U.S. troop withdrawal not only to counter-terrorism goals but also to the Taliban’s good-faith participation in talks with the Afghan government and other powerful Afghan leaders. A U.S.-Taliban agreement would mark only the beginning of a long road to a settlement among Afghans, which is a prerequisite for peace. But it almost certainly offers the only hope of calming today’s deadliest war.
2. Yemen
In 2018, aggressive international intervention in Yemen prevented what UN officials deemed the world’s worst humanitarian crisis from deteriorating further. 2020 could offer a rare opportunity to wind down the war. That chance, however, is the product of a confluence of local, regional, and international factors and, if not seized now, may quickly fade.
The war’s human cost is painfully clear. It has directly killed an estimated 100,000 people while pushing a country that was already the Arab world’s poorest to the brink of famine. Yemen has become a critical fault line in the Middle East-wide rivalry between Iran on the one hand and the U.S. and its regional allies on the other. Yet a year after it briefly grabbed international headlines, the five-year-old conflict is at risk of slipping back out of international consciousness.
The loss of focus is the flip side of recent good news. A December 2018 deal known as the Stockholm Agreement, fostered a fragile ceasefire around the Red Sea port city of Hodeida between the internationally recognised government of President Abed Rabbo Mansour Hadi and the Huthi rebels who seized the capital, Sanaa, from him in September 2014. The agreement likely prevented a famine and effectively froze fighting between the two sides. Since then, the more dynamic aspects of the conflict have been a battle within the anti-Huthi front pitting southern secessionists against the Hadi government, and a cross-border war that has seen the launch of Huthi missiles and retaliatory Saudi airstrikes.
The lull in violent conflict in the second half of 2019 should not be mistaken for a new normal. The opportunity for peace should be seized now.
Today’s window of opportunity reflects movement on these latter two fronts. First, fighting between loyalists of the Southern Transitional Council (STC) and the government in August 2019 pushed the anti-Huthi bloc to the point of collapse. In response, Riyadh had little choice but to broker a truce between them to sustain its war effort. Second, in September, a missile attack on major Saudi oil production facilities – claimed by the Huthis, but widely suspected to have been launched by Tehran – highlighted the risks of a war involving the U.S., its Gulf allies, and Iran that none of them seems to want. This helped push the Saudis and Huthis to engage in talks aimed at de-escalating their conflict and removing Yemen from the playing field of the regional Saudi-Iran power struggle; both sides have significantly reduced cross-border strikes. If this leads to a UN-brokered political process in 2020, an end may be in sight.
But the opportunity could evaporate. A collapse of the government’s fragile deal with the STC in the south or of its equally vulnerable agreement with the Huthis along the Red Sea coast would upend peacemaking efforts. The Huthis’ impatience with what they consider the Saudis’ sluggishness in transitioning from de-escalation to a nationwide ceasefire, coupled with their access to a stockpile of missiles, could rapidly reignite the cross-border war. Heightening U.S.-Iranian tensions could also spill into Yemen. The lull in violent conflict in the second half of 2019, in other words, should not be mistaken for a new normal. The opportunity for peace should be seized now.
3. Ethiopia
Perhaps nowhere are both promise and peril for the coming year starker than in Ethiopia, East Africa’s most populous and influential state.
Since assuming office in April 2018, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed has taken bold steps to open up the country’s politics. He has ended a decades-long standoff with neighbouring Eritrea, freed political prisoners, welcomed rebels back from exile, and appointed reformers to key institutions. He has won accolades at home and abroad – including the 2019 Nobel Peace Prize.
But enormous challenges loom. Mass protests between 2015 and 2018 that brought Abiy to power were motivated primarily by political and socio-economic grievances. But they had ethnic undertones too, particularly in Ethiopia’s most populous regions, Amhara and Oromia, whose leaders hoped to reduce the long-dominant Tigray minority’s influence. Abiy’s liberalisation and efforts to dismantle the existing order have given new energy to ethno-nationalism, while weakening the central state.
Ethnic strife across the country has surged, killing hundreds, displacing millions, and fuelling hostility among leaders of its most powerful regions. Elections scheduled for May 2020 could be violent and divisive, as candidates outbid each other in ethnic appeals for votes.
Adding to tensions is a fraught debate over the country’s ethnic federalist system, which devolves authority to regions defined along ethno-linguistic lines. The system’s supporters believe it protects group rights in a diverse country formed through conquest and assimilation. Detractors argue that an ethnically-based system harms national unity. It is past time, they say, to move beyond the ethnic politics that has long defined and divided the nation.
Ethiopia’s transition remains a source of hope and deserves all the support it can get, but also risks violently unraveling.
Abiy has generally sought a middle ground. But some recent reforms, including his merger and expansion of the ruling coalition, the Ethiopia People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF), move him more firmly into the reformers’ camp. Over the coming year, he’ll have to build bridges among Ethiopian regions, even as he competes with ethno-nationalists at the ballot box. He’ll have to manage the clamor for change while placating an old guard that stands to lose.
Ethiopia’s transition remains a source of hope and deserves all the support it can get, but also risks violently unraveling. In a worst-case scenario, some warn the country could fracture as Yugoslavia did in the 1990s, with disastrous consequences for an already troubled region. Ethiopia’s international partners need to do what they can – including pressing all the country’s leaders to cut incendiary rhetoric, counselling the prime minister to proceed cautiously on his reform agenda, and offering multiyear financial aid – to help Abiy avert such an outcome.
4. Burkina Faso
Burkina Faso is the latest country to fall victim to the instability plaguing Africa’s Sahel region.
Islamist militants have been waging a low-intensity insurgency in the country’s north since 2016. The rebellion was initially spearheaded by Ansarul Islam, a group led by Ibrahim Malam Dicko, a Burkinabé citizen and local preacher. Though rooted in Burkina Faso’s north, it appeared to have close ties to jihadis in neighbouring Mali. After Dicko died in clashes with Burkinabé troops in 2017, his brother, Jafar, took over but reportedly was killed in an October 2019 airstrike.
Violence has spread, blighting much of the north and east, displacing about half a million people (of the country’s total population of 20 million) and threatening to destabilise regions further afield, including the south west. Precisely who is responsible is often murky. In addition to Ansarul Islam, jihadi groups based in Mali, including the local Islamic State and al-Qaeda franchises, now also operate in Burkina Faso. Militant strikes can be intermingled with other sources of violence, such as banditry, herder-farmer competition, or all-too-common disputes over land. Self-defence groups that have mobilised over recent years to police rural areas fuel local intercommunal conflicts. Old systems to manage disputes are breaking down, as more young people question the authority of traditional elites loyal to a state that itself is distrusted. All this makes fertile ground for militant recruitment.
Unrest in the capital, Ouagadougou, hinders efforts to curb the insurgency. People regularly take to the streets in strikes over working conditions or protests over the government’s failure to tackle rising insecurity. Elections loom in November 2020, and violence could affect their credibility and thus the next government’s legitimacy. The ruling party and its rivals accuse each other of preparing vigilantes to mobilise votes. The country appears close to collapse, yet elites focus on internecine power struggles.
Burkina Faso’s volatility matters not only because of harm inflicted on its own citizens, but because the country borders nations along West Africa’s coast. Those countries have suffered few attacks since jihadis struck resorts in Côte d’Ivoire in 2016. But some evidence, including militants’ own statements, suggest they might use Burkina Faso as a launching pad for operations along the coast or to put down roots in the northernmost regions of countries such as Côte d’Ivoire, Ghana, or Benin. In May 2019, Ivoirian authorities report having disrupted planned attacks in the country’s largest city, Abidjan. Coastal countries exhibit weaknesses militants have exploited in their northern neighbours, particularly neglected and resentful peripheries. Some – notably Côte d’Ivoire – also face contentious elections this year. This both distracts their governments and means any crisis would make them more vulnerable still.
In Burkina Faso itself, the government’s response to the expanding insurgency, relying overwhelmingly on force, has tended to make matters worse. Soldiers are often abusive, fuelling anger at the state. As is the case elsewhere in the Sahel, officials often tarnish the Fulani ethic group, particularly some nomadic subtribes, as jihadi sympathisers. Operations targeting Fulani then force them to seek protection from militants, feeding a cycle of stigmatisation and resentment.
Cooperation between Burkina Faso and its neighbours thus far has focused mostly on joint military operations. Coastal states may be gearing up to do the same. Yet governments in the region would be better off focusing as much on intelligence sharing, border controls, and policies aimed at winning over villagers in areas affected. Without those, the turmoil appears set to spread further.
5. Libya
The war in Libya risks getting worse in the coming months, as rival factions increasingly rely on foreign military backing to change the balance of power. The threat of major violence has loomed since the country split into two parallel administrations following contested elections in 2014. UN attempts at reunification faltered, and since 2016 Libya has been divided between the internationally recognised government of Prime Minister Fayez al-Sarraj in Tripoli and a rival government based in eastern Libya. The Islamic State established a small foothold but was defeated; militias fought over Libya’s oil infrastructure on the coast; and tribal clashes unsettled the country’s vast southern desert. But fighting never tipped into a broader confrontation.
Libya has long been an arena for outside competition.
Over the past year, however, it has taken a dangerous new turn. In April 2019, forces commanded by Khalifa Haftar, which are backed by the government in the east, laid siege to Tripoli, edging the country toward all-out war. Haftar claims to be combating terrorists. In reality, while some of his rivals are Islamists, they are the same militias that defeated the Islamic State, with U.S. and other Western support, three years ago.
Libya has long been an arena for outside competition. In the chaos after former leader Muammar al-Qaddafi’s 2011 overthrow, competing factions sought support from foreign sponsors. Regional rivalries overlaid the split between the two rival governments and their respective military coalitions, with Egypt and the United Arab Emirates (UAE) backing Haftar-led forces and Turkey and Qatar supporting western armed groups loyal to Sarraj.
Haftar’s latest offensive has found support not only in Cairo and Abu Dhabi but also in Moscow, which has provided Haftar military aid under the cover of a private security company. U.S. President Donald Trump, whose administration had supported the Sarraj government and UN-backed peace process since coming to office, reversed course in April 2019, following a meeting with Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi. Turkey, in turn, has upped support for Tripoli, thus far helping stave off its fall to Haftar. Ankara now threatens to intervene further.
As a result, the conflict’s protagonists are no longer merely armed groups in Tripoli fending off an assault by a wayward military commander. Instead, Emirati drones and airplanes, hundreds of Russian private military contractors, and African soldiers recruited into Haftar’s forces confront Turkish drones and military vehicles, raising the specter of an escalating proxy battle on the Mediterranean.
The proliferation of actors also stymies efforts to end the bloodshed. A UN-led attempt in Berlin to bring the parties back to the table appears to be petering out. Whether the peace conference that the UN and Germany hoped to convene in early 2020 will take place is unclear. For their part, Europeans have been caught flat-footed. Their main concern has been to check the flow of migrants, but disagreements among leaders over how to weigh in have allowed other players to fuel a conflict that directly undercuts Europe’s interest in a stable Libya.
To end the war, foreign powers would need to stop arming their Libyan allies and press them into negotiations instead, but prospects of this happening appear dim. The result could be a more destructive stalemate or a takeover of Tripoli that could give rise to prolonged militia fighting, rather than a stable single government.
6. The U.S., Iran, Israel, and the Persian Gulf
Tensions between the U.S. and Iran rose dangerously in 2019; the year ahead could bring their rivalry to boiling point. The Trump administration’s decision to withdraw from the 2015 nuclear agreement and impose mounting unilateral sanctions against Tehran has inflicted significant costs, but thus far has produced neither the diplomatic capitulation Washington seeks nor the internal collapse for which it may hope. Instead, Iran has responded to what it regards as an all-out siege by incrementally ramping up its nuclear program in violation of the agreement, aggressively flexing its regional muscle, and firmly suppressing any sign of domestic unrest. Tensions have also risen between Israel and Iran. Unless this cycle is broken, the risk of a broader confrontation will rise.
Tehran’s shift from a policy of maximum patience to one of maximum resistance was a consequence of the U.S. playing one of the aces in its coercive deck: ending already-limited exemptions on Iran’s oil sales. Seeing little relief materialise from the nuclear deal’s remaining parties, President Hassan Rouhani in May announced that his government would begin to violate the agreement incrementally. Since then, Iran has broken caps on its uranium enrichment rates and stockpile sizes, started testing advanced centrifuges, and restarted its enrichment plant in its Fordow bunker. With every new breach, Iran may hollow out the agreement’s nonproliferation gains to the extent that the European signatories will decide they must impose their own penalties. At some point, Iran’s advances could prompt Israel or the U.S. to resort to military action.
A diplomatic breakthrough to de-escalate tensions between the Gulf states and Iran or between Washington and Tehran remains possible.
A string of incidents in the Gulf in the past year, culminating in the Sept. 14 attack against Saudi energy facilities, underscored how the U.S.-Iranian standoff reverberates across the broader region. Meanwhile, recurrent Israeli military strikes against Iranian and Iran-linked targets inside Syria and Lebanon – as well as in Iraq and the Red Sea basin, according to Tehran – present a new, dangerous front. Any of these flash points could explode, by design or by accident.
Recognition of the high stakes and costs of war has nudged some of Iran’s Gulf rivals to seek de-escalation even as they continue to back the Trump administration’s “maximum pressure” approach. The UAE has opened lines of communication with Tehran, and Saudi Arabia has engaged in serious dialogue with Yemen’s Huthis.
The potential for conflict has also prompted efforts, led by French President Emmanuel Macron, to help the U.S. and Iran find a diplomatic off-ramp. U.S. President Donald Trump, eager to avoid war, has been willing to hear out his proposal, and the Iranians are also interested in any proposition that provides some sanctions relief.
But with deep distrust, each side has tended to wait for the other to make the first concession. A diplomatic breakthrough to de-escalate tensions between the Gulf states and Iran or between Washington and Tehran remains possible. But, as sanctions take their toll and Iran fights back, time is running out.
7. U.S.-North Korea
The days of 2017, when U.S. President Donald Trump and North Korean leader Kim Jong-un hurled insults at each other and exchanged threats of nuclear annihilation, seemed distant during most of 2019. But tensions are escalating.
The dangers of 2017 yielded to a calmer 2018 and early 2019. The U.S. halted most joint military drills with South Korea, and Pyongyang paused long-range missile and nuclear tests. U.S.-North Korea relations thawed somewhat, with two Trump-Kim summits. The first – in Singapore in June 2018 – produced a flimsy statement of agreed principles and the possibility of diplomatic negotiations. The second – in Hanoi in February 2019 – collapsed when the gulf between the two leaders on the scope and sequencing of denuclearisation and sanctions relief became clear.
Since then, the diplomatic atmosphere has soured. In April 2019, Kim unilaterally set an end-of-year deadline for the U.S. government to present a deal that might break the impasse. In June, Trump and Kim agreed, over a handshake in the demilitarised zone that separates the two Koreas, to start working-level talks. In October, however, an eight-hour meeting between envoys in Sweden went nowhere.
The two leaders have at times floated the idea of a third summit, but they have backed away at least for the time being. That may be for the best: another ill-prepared meeting could leave both sides feeling dangerously frustrated.
Meanwhile, Pyongyang – which continues to seek leverage to obtain sanctions relief and an end to joint military drills – stepped up short-range ballistic missile tests, which are widely understood not to be covered by the unwritten freeze. North Korea seemed to be motivated by both practical reasons (tests help perfect missile technology) and political ones (those tests appear intended to pressure Washington to propose a more favourable deal). In early December, Pyongyang went further, testing what appeared to be the engine for either a space-launch vehicle or a long-range missile and related technology, at a site that Trump claimed Kim had promised to dismantle.
Trump and Kim should steer clear of high-level pageantry and high-drama provocations, and empower their negotiators to get to work.
Although Pyongyang’s warning of a “Christmas gift” for Washington if the U.S. does not propose a way forward it deems satisfactory had not materialised at the time of writing, prospects for diplomacy seem to be dimming.
Yet both sides should think about what will happen if diplomacy fails. If the North escalates its provocations, the Trump administration could react much like it did in 2017, with name-calling and efforts to further tighten sanctions and by exploring military options with unthinkable consequences.
That dynamic would be bad for the region, the world, and both leaders. The best option for both sides remains a confidence-building, measure-for-measure deal that gives each modest benefits. Pyongyang and Washington need to put in the time to negotiate and gauge possibilities for compromise. In 2020, Trump and Kim should steer clear of high-level pageantry and high-drama provocations, and empower their negotiators to get to work.
8. Kashmir
After falling off the international radar for years, a flare-up between India and Pakistan in 2019 over the disputed region of Kashmir brought the crisis back into sharp focus. Both countries lay claim to the Himalayan territory, split by an informal boundary, known as the Line of Control, since the first Indian-Pakistani war of 1947-48.
First came a February suicide attack by Islamist militants against Indian paramilitaries in Kashmir. India retaliated by bombing an alleged militant camp in Pakistan, prompting a Pakistani strike in Indian-controlled Kashmir. Tensions spiked again in August when India revoked the state of Jammu and Kashmir’s semi-autonomous status, which had served as the foundation for its joining India 72 years ago, and brought it under New Delhi’s direct rule.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government, emboldened by its May re-election, made the change in India’s only Muslim-majority state without any local consultation. Not only that: before announcing its decision, it brought in tens of thousands of extra troops, imposed a communications blackout, and arrested thousands of Kashmiris, including the entire political class, many of whom were not hostile to India.
These moves have exacerbated an already profound sentiment of alienation among Kashmiris that will likely further fuel a long-running separatist insurgency. Separately, the Indian government's new citizenship law, widely regarded as anti-Muslim, has sparked protests and violent police responses in many parts of India. Together with the actions in Kashmir, these developments appear to confirm Modi’s intention to implement a Hindu nationalist agenda.
New Delhi’s claims that the situation is back to normal are misleading. Internet access remains cut off, soldiers deployed in August are still there, and all Kashmiri leaders remain in detention. Modi’s government seems to have no roadmap for what comes next.
Pakistan has tried to rally international support against what it calls India’s illegal decision on Kashmir’s status. But its cause is hardly helped by its long record of backing anti-India jihadis. Moreover, most Western powers see New Delhi as an important partner. They are unlikely to rock the boat over Kashmir, unless violence spirals.
The gravest danger is the risk that a militant attack sets off an escalation.
The gravest danger is the risk that a militant attack sets off an escalation. In Kashmir, insurgents are lying low but still active. Indeed, India’s heavy-handed military operations in Kashmir over the past few years have inspired a new homegrown generation, whose ranks are likely to swell further after the latest repression. A strike on Indian forces almost certainly would precipitate Indian retaliation against Pakistan, regardless of whether Islamabad is complicit in the plan. In a worst-case scenario, the two nuclear-armed neighbours could stumble into war.
External actors should push for rapprochement before it is too late. That won’t be easy. Both sides are playing to domestic constituencies in no mood for compromise. Resuming bilateral dialogue, on hold since 2016, is essential and will necessitate concerted pressure, particularly from Western capitals. Any progress requires Pakistan taking credible action against jihadis operating from its soil, a non-negotiable precondition for India to even consider engaging. For its part, India should lift the communication blackout, release political prisoners, and urgently re-engage with Kashmiri leaders. Both sides should resume cross-border trade and travel for Kashmiris.
If a new crisis emerges, foreign powers will have to throw their full weight behind preserving peace on the disputed border.
9. Venezuela
Venezuela’s year of two governments ended without resolution. President Nicolás Maduro is still in charge, having headed off a civil-military uprising in April and weathered a regional boycott and a stack of U.S. sanctions. But his government remains isolated and bereft of resources, while most Venezuelans suffer from crushing poverty and collapsing public services.
Juan Guaidó, who as National Assembly head laid claim to the interim presidency last January, attracted huge crowds and foreign backing for his demand that Maduro, re-elected in a controversial poll in 2018, leave office. Yet the unpopular government’s survival has offered Guaidó, as well as the U.S. and its Latin American allies such as Brazil and Colombia, harsh lessons. No one can rule out the government’s collapse. Still, hoping for that is, as one opposition deputy told my Crisis Group colleagues, “like being poor and waiting to win the lottery”.
For a start, Maduro’s rivals underestimated his government’s strength – above all, the armed forces’ loyalty. Despite hardship, poor communities remained mostly unconvinced by the opposition. U.S. sanctions heaped stress on the population and decimated an ailing oil industry, but were circumvented by shadowy actors working through the global economy’s loopholes. Gold exports and cash dollars kept the country afloat and enriched a tiny elite. Many of those left out joined the mass exodus of Venezuelans, now numbering 4.5 million, who in turn funneled remittances back home to sustain their families.
The crisis is having other ripple effects. The UN estimates that 7 million Venezuelans need humanitarian aid, many of them in border areas patrolled by armed groups, including Colombian guerrillas. Though sharing more than 1,300 miles of criminalised, violent, and largely unguarded border, the Colombian and Venezuelan governments no longer talk to each other, instead trading insults and blame for sheltering armed proxies. The border has become Venezuela’s primary flashpoint. In the meantime, the split between those Latin American countries backing Guaidó and those supporting Maduro has aggravated an increasingly polarised regional climate.
But there is still a negotiated way out of the turmoil. It would entail compromise from all sides.
With the U.S. seemingly downplaying the possibility of a military intervention – even as Venezuelan opposition hardliners pine for one – the issue is now whether Maduro’s obstinacy and the opposition’s and Washington’s lack of realism will mean a deepening crisis and possible flare-up, or whether more pragmatic voices can find a path to agreement. The omens are not overly promising. Government-opposition talks facilitated by Norway were suspended in September.
But there is still a negotiated way out of the turmoil. It would entail compromise from all sides: the opposition would need to drop its demand that Maduro leave now; the government would have to accept steps ensuring a credible and internationally monitored parliamentary election in 2020 as well as an early – and equally credible – presidential poll in the near future; and the U.S. government would need to incrementally relieve sanctions as progress is made toward a resolution. This would be an acceptable price for Venezuela’s peace and stability, and to avoid a far worse calamity.
10. Ukraine
Ukraine's comedian-turned-president, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, elected in April 2019, has brought new energy to efforts to end Kyiv’s six-year-old conflict with Russia-backed separatists in the country’s eastern Donbas region. Yet if peace seems slightly more plausible than it did a year ago, it is far from preordained.
Zelenskyy’s predecessor, Petro Poroshenko, negotiated the 2014-2015 Minsk agreements, which aim to end the Donbas conflict; they call for the separatist-held areas’ reintegration into Ukraine in exchange for their autonomy, or “special status”. But the agreements remain unimplemented as Kyiv and Moscow disagree on their specifics and sequencing.
Zelenskyy pledged while campaigning to make peace. He interpreted his and his party’s landslide wins in 2019 elections as mandates to do so. He started by negotiating mutual withdrawals from front-line positions and a ceasefire with Russia and its proxies. In September, he cut a deal with Russian President Vladimir Putin on a prisoner swap. The following month, he endorsed the so-called Steinmeier Formula put forward in 2016 by Frank-Walter Steinmeier, then Germany’s foreign minister and now its president, which proposed that elections in separatist-held areas would trigger first provisional, and then, if the vote was credible, permanent special status and reintegration into Ukraine.
Zelenskyy’s take on the formula required Ukrainian control in those territories before the vote. He nonetheless faced immediate domestic backlash from an unlikely coalition of military veterans’ organisations, far-right groups, and public intellectuals. In contrast, Moscow and separatist leaders welcomed Zelenskyy’s acceptance of the formula, despite his conditions.
In December, Zelenskyy and Putin met in Paris with Macron and German Chancellor Angela Merkel. The leaders failed to agree on Minsk sequencing but left with plans for a more comprehensive ceasefire, further disengagement at front-line positions, increased Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe monitoring, and new crossing points for civilians at the line of contact separating Ukrainian and separatist forces.
Zelenskyy’s detractors at home appear satisfied he did not sell out in Paris. This gives him more room for maneuver. If things go as planned, the next meeting in France, set for spring, should tackle other components of the Minsk agreement, including amnesties, further troop withdrawals, and a path to reintegrating separatist-held areas into Ukraine.
Much could go wrong. Ceasefire and disengagement plans might collapse and fighting could escalate. Even if they hold, Zelenskyy needs Moscow to compromise for peace to stand a chance. So far, however, although Moscow has been more amenable to deals with Zelenskyy than with his predecessor, its core positions remain unchanged: it denies being party to the conflict it initiated, fought in, and funded. It insists Kyiv should negotiate Donbas’ self-rule with separatist leaders.
Peace would offer clear dividends for Ukraine and carry benefits for Russia: it could bring sanctions relief and remove the burden of financial and military support to separatist-held areas. From his Western allies, Zelenskyy needs all the help he can get as he continues his charm offensive in eastern Ukraine and outreach to Moscow.
Eritrean under-20 soccer players Hermon Fessehaye Yohannes, Simon Asmelash Mekonen, Hanibal Girmay Tekle, and Mewael Tesfai Yosief talk together in a house where they are staying in Uganda.
After another defection of Eritrean football players during a tournament in Uganda, an official said that it has become expected that athletes from the Horn of Africa country will flee when traveling abroad.
"It's been kind of routine over the past several years whenever there is an event, sports event, where the Eritreans take part, it's almost a must that some of them won't return home," said Ismail Dhakaba, spokesperson for Uganda's National Council for Sports.
Seven Eritrean footballers defected during a regional tournament known as the Cecafa Senior Challenge Cup. This followed the October defection of four players from Eritrea's under-20 team who were competing in Uganda.
Dhakaba said he has been told by an Eritrean footballer that team members are required to sign a letter promising to return home while playing in foreign tournaments. He also said the team travels with a group of bodyguards meant to prevent defections. However, athletes find ways to escape. Dhakaba said Uganda's relatively welcoming stance toward refugees and economic opportunities make it an attractive destination.
"It's a very easy country to live in. You'll always find a place to start and you don't need to have a lot of money to live in Uganda normally. You can go with a bare minimum, so they find life here much better than their country. And that's why most of them decide to stay," he said.
Eritrean Minister of Information Yemane Gebremeskel has tweeted about the success of the team during the tournament. However, he has not commented on the players who defected. Government officials did not respond to a VOA request for comment on the matter. Additionally, Alemseged Efrem, the Eritrean football coach, was invited to appear on a sports show on state-owned media for a discussion about the tournament, but there was no mention of the players who did not return.
'Basic human rights'
Kimberley Motley, an American attorney representing the four football players who defected in October, said she has been told by her clients that life inside Eritrea is heavily restricted. Most people enter military service between the ages of 16 to 17, and can be forced to serve indefinitely. Arbitrary arrests are commonplace and footballers are hesitant to congregate while not on the pitch for fear of arousing suspicion. She said her clients fear for the safety of their families at home.
After Weeks on the Run, Eritrean Footballers in Uganda Plead for Resettlement
Four Eritrean football players are asking for asylum in Uganda after playing a tournament in October, saying they fear 'unimaginable punishments and it might even cause us death,' if sent back to Eritrea
"They very much, unfortunately, are under the thumb of the government like everyone in Eritrea. And they're very, very concerned about their families," she told VOA.
Motley said her clients are fearful that they will be returned to Eritrea by Ugandan authorities or attacked by Eritrean agents in Uganda.
"These are good young men, most of them teenagers, who are simply fighting for their own freedom. And the freedom to live. The freedom to play sports. The freedom to just be who they want to be," she told VOA, speaking about the conditions of the football players. "They just want their basic human rights [to] be honored, which everyone on this planet should be entitled to."
The bloodshed that has been going on among Eritrean brothers living in Israel for several years has been shocking and saddening to every Eritrean. This escalating bloodshed is brutal and barbarous activity which is devoid of Eritrean culture and ethics that no human should ever encounter. Such kind of inhuman action, no matter who does it or upon whom it is inflicted, must be condemned.
Based on this, we, the undersigned Eritrean pollical forces and associations indubitably denounce the barbaric action that has been taking place in Israel. We therefore urge that the culprits be brought to justice. We would also like to remind the Israeli government to seriously behold the safety of Eritrean refugees under its tutelage and put an end to the repeated crimes once and for all.
Many Eritrean brothers have lost their lives and many others faced physical disability due to these derogatory activities that occurred in various places at different times. At this juncture, we pray that the deceased rest in peace; we condole their families and wish recovery to those who suffered the lesion and wound on account of the incident.
The PFDJ regime is the sole beneficiary of the bloodshed that occurred among brothers. The regime is working day and night to obscure our future as people and country by creating confrontation among Eritreans and by submerging Eritrean brothers and sisters into an endless bloodshed. We Eritreans must discern the regime’s wicked aim, stand in unison and understand that it is our responsibility to choose the path that will enable us to live in peace and unity in our country. A system of governance comes and goes but people are eternal.
Our people need to be aware of the irresponsible and wicked attempts of various media outlets to disseminate misguided information about this malicious incident in order to create division among the Eritrean people. Eritrea belongs to all of us and we all belong to Eritrea.
Once again, we denounce the barbarous action and urge everyone to immediately stop the confrontation among nationals of same country and see to it that such a cruel incident that is devoid of the Eritrean culture and ethics does not repeat itself. We support concerned Eritrean brothers and sisters who have taken the initiative to solve the current problem through reconciliation and at the same time appeal that all Eritreans discharge their due responsibility.
Victory to The Eritrean People!
Eritrean National Council for democratic change (ENCDC)
Sudan’s Minister of Religious Affairs and Endowments, Nasredin Mofreh (Social media)
In a speech to mark Christmas, Sudan’s Minister of Religious Affairs and Endowments has expressed his apology to Christians for “the unjust and clumsy policies” that their families and their religion were subjected to during the deposed Al Bashir regime.
Minister Nasredin Mofreh also apologised to Sudanese Christians “for the oppression and harm inflicted on your bodies, the destruction of your temples, the theft of your property, and the unjust arrest and prosecution of your servants and confiscation of church buildings”.
He affirmed that the essence of the divine religions is one, as they all agree in overall and general goals to preserve life, dignity and uphold the values of justice, peace, and love.
He added: “Let’s unite and celebrate our beautiful unique diversity.”
He called for the necessity to uphold the values of religious tolerance, fraternal solidarity, family cohesion, and preserving the values of mutual compassion and solidarity established in Islam and Christianity.
The protection of religious freedom is a top Trump Administration foreign policy priority. Persecution and discrimination on the basis of religion or belief exists in every region of the world. The United States continues to work diligently to promote religious freedom and combat abuses. These recent designations continue that important work.
On December 18, 2019, the Department of State re-designated Burma, China, Eritrea, Iran, North Korea, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Tajikistan, and Turkmenistan as Countries of Particular Concern under the International Religious Freedom Act of 1998 for having engaged in or tolerated “systematic, ongoing, [and] egregious violations of religious freedom.” The Department renewed the placement of Comoros, Russia, and Uzbekistan on a Special Watch List (SWL) for governments that have engaged in or tolerated “severe violations of religious freedom,” and added Cuba, Nicaragua, Nigeria, and Sudan to this list. Sudan was moved to the SWL due to significant steps taken by the civilian-led transitional government to address the previous regime’s “systematic, ongoing, and egregious violations of religious freedom.” Finally, we designated al-Nusra Front, al-Qa’ida in the Arabian Peninsula, al-Qa’ida, al-Shabab, Boko Haram, the Houthis, ISIS, ISIS-Khorasan, and the Taliban as Entities of Particular Concern.
These designations underscore the United States’ commitment to protect those who seek to exercise their freedom of religion or belief. We believe that everyone, everywhere, at all times, should have the right to live according to the dictates of their conscience. We will continue to challenge state and non-state entities that seek to infringe upon those fundamental rights and to ensure they are held to account for their actions.
This month, the U.S. Government announced designations of 68 individuals and entities in nine countries for corruption and human rights abuses under the Global Magnitsky Act, among them four Burmese military leaders responsible for serious human rights abuses against the Rohingya Muslims and other religious and ethnic minorities. In October, we placed visa restrictions on Chinese government and Communist Party officials who are believed to be responsible for, or complicit in, the detention or abuse of Uighurs, Kazakhs, or other members of Muslim minority groups in Xinjiang, China.
Our actions have been, and will continue to be, consistent with our position on religious freedom. No country, entity, or individual should be able to persecute people of faith without accountability. We have acted, and we will continue to do so.
Tuesday, 24 December 2019 10:53
Written by
kawowo.com
John Batanudde | Kawowo Sports Eritrea players celebrate their winner against Burundi
The news of their disappearance was confirmed by the Eritrean Football Association on the social media platforms.
Robel Kidane, Yosief Mebrahtu, Filmon Semere and Abel Ogbay, Ismail Jahar are some of the players confirmed by the FA to have missed the flight.
Others are Isias Abraham and Eyob Girmay who were part of the Red Sea Camel side that impressed and reached the finals for the first time in their history losing 3-0 to Uganda on Thursday.
It’s the second time in less than two months after their U-20 players also disappeared during the youth tournament in Jinja.
However, they later resurfaced before losing to Kenya in the semi-finals.
In 2015, ten Eritrean footballers sought asylum in Botswana after a World Cup qualifying match and six years before, the entire national refused to return home after the Cecafa Senior Challenge Cup in Kenya.
Over fifteen players also disappeared in Kampala during the 2012 Cecafa tournament and were granted asylum by the Government of Uganda a year later.
A court in Saudi Arabia has sentenced five people to death and three others to prison in connection with last year's killing of journalist Jamal Khashoggi at Riyadh's consulate in Istanbul.
The public prosecutor said in a statement the death sentences were for those who committed and directly participated in the murder. Those sent to prison were given sentences "for their role in covering up this crime."
The decision Monday came after largely secret proceedings that also cleared Saud al-Qahtani, the former top aide to Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, of being involved in Khashoggi's death.
FILE - Agnes Callamard, the U.N. special rapporteur for extrajudicial, summary and arbitrary executions, speaks to reporters at the U.N. human rights office in Geneva, June 19, 2019.
Agnes Callamard, who investigated the killing for the United Nations, called the trial a "mockery" in a thread explaining flaws in the investigation posted to her Twitter Monday.
"Bottom line: the hit-men are guilty, sentenced to death. The masterminds not only walk free. They have barely been touched by the investigation and the trial. That is the antithesis of Justice. It is a mockery," she wrote.
Paris-based media rights watchdog Reporters Without Borders said justice was "trampled" by the decision.
"We can interpret [the decision] as a means to permanently silence the suspects, a way to prevent them from speaking to better cover up the truth," the group's head, Christophe Deloire wrote on Twitter Monday.
Turkey condemned the decision as "far from justice."
It is not only a legal but also a conscientious responsibility to shed light on this murder committed in our territory and to punish all those responsible," the Turkish Foreign Ministry said.
The Washington Post columnist and prominent critic of the Saudi government was slain and dismembered in the Saudi consulate in Istanbul in October 2018.
Saudi Arabia initially denied the killing took place, insisting Khashoggi had walked out of the consulate. It later blamed rogue agents and has denied the crown prince had any knowledge of the operation.
United Nations extrajudicial executions investigator Agnes Callamard issued a report in June that found "credible evidence" linking Prince Mohammed to the killing.
The U.S. Central Intelligence Agency has also assessed the crown prince ordered the killing.
Many of the countries bordering the Red Sea suffer a mix of violence, corruption, instability and tyranny. Compounding the problem, outside states are meddling more in an attempt to increase their influence while the Trump administration stands by. My Brookings Institution colleague Zach Vertin offers six areas to watch in the months and years to come, ranging from potential great power competition to the growing role of Gulf states in African politics. -Daniel Byman.
The Red Sea has long represented a critical link in a network of global waterways stretching from the Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean to the Pacific—a strategic and economic thoroughfare one U.S. defense official dubbed the “Interstate-95 of the planet.” Prized by conquerors from Alexander to Napoleon, the Red Sea’s centrality to maritime trade and its chokepoints have for centuries made it a subject of keen geopolitical interest. But a new kind of rivalry has emerged in recent years, sparking a season of unprecedented geopolitical competition astride the Red Sea, as the boundaries of the two regions it enjoins—the Arabian Gulf and the Horn of Africa—are fast disappearing.
Driving the action have been resource-rich Gulf states, whose expanding notions of their near-abroad have yielded projections of influence across ever-greater swathes of land and sea. The map includes Yemen, home to one of the world’s deadliest wars, and the Horn of Africa, host to three extraordinarily delicate political transitions. In each, Gulf states and Middle Eastern rivals—embroiled in rancorous struggles for regional supremacy—have jockeyed for access, clients and influence.
Changing transregional dynamics have also been animated by migration and refugee flows that top global indices, a combined population greater than that of the United States, and the establishment of China’s first-ever overseas naval base at the Red Sea’s southern gate. Geoeconomics have also figured prominently: In addition to the $700 billion of seaborne commerce that already traverses the route each year, Beijing’s new maritime silk road, Africa’s rising consumer classes, and hydrocarbon finds in the Horn have been subjects of chatter among powerbrokers in the region and beyond. So too are the deep-water ports, roads, and railways needed to make such a network tick.
After 30 months of action, the initial rush for influence appears to have run its course. Red Sea protagonists are now reflecting on their interventions to date and taking stock of the modified land-and seascape. As they consider their next moves, here’s a recap of events and a look at six plotlines that will shape the next season of Red Sea geopolitics—for better or worse.
Rivalry for Export
When Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates (UAE) cut political ties with neighboring Qatar in 2017 and imposed an economic blockade, the resulting feud—which drew in Egypt and Turkey—was promptly exported to the Horn. Dueling powers rushed to lock up friends, loyalty pledges and real estate—including a mad dash for commercial ports and military posts on Africa’s Red Sea coast. While the rush of foreign interest (and cash) demonstrated huge potential for economic development in the Horn, it also revealed how dangerously vulnerable the region was to external shocks.
Though the Gulf crisis prompted a flurry of new engagement, these forays were not without prelude. Saudi Arabia and the UAE first turned their attention to Egypt in 2011, concerned by the tumult of the Arab Spring and the ascendance of the Muslim Brotherhood. In 2014 they purchased influence in Sudan and Eritrea to prevent Iran from establishing a foothold on their western flank, and the following year they established a military base in the Horn from which to prosecute an expanding war against Iranian proxies and Islamist adversaries in Yemen.
By 2017, the question of great power rivalry had also begun to animate the Red Sea script. When Beijing established its first-ever overseas military base in Djibouti, at the nexus of the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden, the American defense establishment started paying close attention—both at the Pentagon and at the combatant command headquarters responsible for Africa, the Middle East and the Indo-Pacific. The presence of China’s People’s Liberation Army at the intersection of these regions, and the significance of this maritime bottleneck to trade routes and freedom of navigation worldwide, made it a touchstone in the great conversation on great power competition.
Meanwhile, trade interests and unstable migration mean European states have been paying attention to Red Sea developments, while China’s growing investments make it a player for Gulf and Horn states to reckon with. Washington, meanwhile, remains mostly absent from Red Sea debates—save for regular debates about its absence. Whether the Trump administration will develop a political strategy for the rapidly evolving region, or exercise any diplomatic muscle, remains to be seen.
Six Plotlines to Watch
The first of six plotlines to watch is the war in Yemen, which in 2015 prompted Riyadh and Abu Dhabi to establish military outposts on nearby African shores. When a bitter fallout with Djibouti (over alleged UAE mismanagement of its commercial port) prevented Gulf coalition forces from setting up shop, they moved one stop north, to Eritrea. After Saudi and Emirati leaders wooed the isolated country’s autocratic strongman with pledges of cash and cooperation, UAE fighter jets and warships soon began launching attacks from Eritrea toward the contested port city of Aden—just 150 miles to the east.
Since then, international attempts to halt the fighting in Yemen or shape a political settlement have failed. Not only has the war dragged on far longer than the sheikhs in Riyadh and Abu Dhabi had hoped, but tension with Iran in the adjacent seas has muddied already murky waters. UAE forces have stepped back in recent months, while the Saudis, their aims unfulfilled and local allies imperiled, have been forced to make a hard pivot.
After attacks on two Saudi oil facilities in September 2019 exposed the vulnerability of the country’s dominant economic sector, Riyadh began talking directly with the Houthis, seemingly intent on ending the disastrous conflict and putting distance between the Houthis and Tehran while also cleaning up its tarnished reputation. A negotiated endgame in Yemen—including not only a political deal but also territorial considerations, control of ports on Yemen’s 1,200-mile coast, and safeguards for the strategically located Bab al-Mandab strait—could shape transregional dynamics as much as anything.
The second narrative to watch will unfold across the Red Sea, in Somalia—still the Horn’s most fragile state, where President Mohamed Abdullahi Farmajo and his colleagues had an especially turbulent introduction to Gulf rivalry. After Farmajo resisted pressure to take sides in the 2017 feud, and later accused the UAE of bribery and meddling (a spectacular seizure of $10 million in Emirati cash on the tarmac at Mogadishu airport followed), Abu Dhabi swore off relations with the central government. Angered by the Farmajo government’s political and financial ties to Doha, the UAE turned its attention, and its checkbook, to Somalia’s federal states and breakaway peripheries. The move laid bare an intensifying battle for foreign influence in Somalia and exacerbated the country’s already deep fissures.
But after two years of estrangement from Mogadishu’s political scene and persistent concern about both Turkish and Qatari influence, the Emiratis may look to reestablish themselves in the capital ahead of Somalia’s 2020 elections. While Gulf states have used cash to curry favor with local elites, the Somalis have also proved remarkably adept at playing external patrons off one another in the service of their own campaign chests. With elections on the horizon, a spoiler alert is hardly necessary—another season of proxy shenanigans, finger-pointing and illicit contributions may be in the offing.
The third transregional plotline concerns transformational change in Ethiopia and Sudan, where, after the exits of decades-old regimes, new leaders are attempting high-wire political transitions. Gulf states have been quick to insert themselves into both, yielding mixed results.
Though Ethiopia’s Orthodox Christian establishment has long been wary of Muslim influence from abroad, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed accepted a much-needed $3 billion aid and investment package from the UAE in April 2018. Months later, Saudi and Emirati royals hosted Abiy and Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki for ceremonies to mark their historic peace pact (for which Abiy was later awarded this year’s Nobel Prize). Talk of revitalized seaports, oil pipelines, telecommunications, and other investments followed. Abiy has wisely sought balance in his near-abroad relations, coupling new Saudi and Emirati engagement with official visits to Qatar and Israel.
Abiy’s ascendance marked a historic opening in Ethiopia, and while his modernizing vision has been widely celebrated, the changing of the guard has also yielded social unrest, political uncertainty and a spike in ethnonationalist rhetoric. Gulf partners (and many in the West) have put great personal faith in the charismatic reformer, hoping he can preside over stable political and economic development while offering them access to privatized industry and 100 million consumers. Aid from wealthy Arab partners can help bolster the transition, but the long-term interests of Gulf states and Ethiopia will be best served if those investments are sensitive to the country’s complex ethnoregional politics. They should also be geared not toward any individual, but to institutions and growth sectors that will serve all Ethiopians.
In Sudan, when Arab Spring-like protests gripped the nation in 2018, Riyadh and Abu Dhabi sensed that President Omar al-Bashir’s time might finally be up. After courting the famously opportunist dictator for years, these Gulf patrons halted the cash injections that had propped up his regime, hastening its April 2019 demise. Likewise uneasy about Khartoum’s relations with Qatar and Turkey, and viewing Sudan’s upheaval through the prism of Egypt’s convulsions, Saudi and UAE diplomats, intelligence officers, and military men then moved quickly. Bent on capturing a piece off the geopolitical chess board, they sought to snuff out Islamism and fashion a new, pliant Sudanese partner. In addition to offering billions in aid, they invested in a short-term insurance policy on stability by backing a new military strongman in the interim—one with a history as dark as Bashir’s.
But the heavy-handed Gulf interventions were met with outrage on the streets of Khartoum. “We don’t want your aid!” came chants from the assembled masses, as the popular movement for democratic change saw its revolution being hijacked. When others in Sudan and abroad expressed similar concerns, Saudi and UAE officials adjusted course, and a hybrid civil-military government ultimately emerged. Though they’re still hedging their bets, the Gulf partners have pledged political and financial support to the transitional authority and are coordinating their engagement with the wider international community. Sudan’s new government must overcome internal divisions and remake a state destroyed by corruption, mismanagement and isolation. Their success will be hugely dependent on foreign aid, not least from Gulf states that can and have deployed it more quickly than the West. The transitions in Sudan and Ethiopia are as precarious as they are potentially transformative; each will shape the Horn—and the wider Red Sea context—for a generation to come.
The fourth plotline concerns the establishment of a so-called Red Sea forum. As I detail in a new Brookings Institution report, forward-thinking diplomats on both shores of the Red Sea, and in Europe, have spent the last year laying the groundwork for what they envision as a multilateral talk shop. The idea—a venue in which littoral states might come together to discuss shared interests, identify emergent threats, and fashion common solutions—is a sensible response to new realities. In its ideal incarnation, African and Gulf states could together confront issues as diverse as trade and infrastructure development, maritime security, mixed migration, and conflict management. At a minimum, such a forum could raise the costs of destabilizing activity by any individual state and provide African countries a platform to engage Gulf states on a more equal footing.
But differing visions of a Red Sea forum persist: How should it be structured, who should be invited, and what should be prioritized? The answers to these questions will determine whether a forum can serve the collective interests of states on both shores, or whether it is leveraged in the service of narrower agendas. (Some observers worry the Saudis—who took the reins of an Egyptian-born initiative and have since assumed a leading role in establishing a forum—may place undue emphasis on both Iran and security.)
Plotline five concerns intra-Gulf dynamics. The Gulf crisis began with an episode of high drama—a Saudi-UAE blockade of Qatar, a list of 13 demands and an alleged plot to depose the Qatari emir. But the feud has produced little since, while disrupting trade flows, destabilizing neighboring regions, and leaving Gulf antagonists exposed as tensions with Iran crescendo. Though President Trump initially parroted the anti-Qatar rhetoric advanced by its adversaries, he later pivoted and invited the Qatari emir for an Oval Office visit in July. While the White House should have long ago assumed an active role in resolving the Gulf crisis, the photo-op with Qatar’s leader helped zero out any hopes the Saudis and Emiratis might have had for Qatari capitulation.
This is among the reasons that the Saudi-Emirati alliance that has underpinned each country’s foreign policy in recent years is now under review in both capitals. Divergent strategies in Yemen, competing threat perceptions (Iran vs. Muslim Brotherhood), Emirati concerns about Riyadh’s troublesome global reputation, and the potential for long-term economic competition are likewise informing the reevaluation. The two allies will not go their separate ways, but the partnership may look different in the coming season. Wider dynamics among Gulf friends and foes, meanwhile, will hinge on events in Iran and on a quiet new effort to end the row with Qatar.
The sixth and final Red Sea narrative is one of great power competition—a focus across Washington’s political spectrum and a particular fixation of the Trump administration. In calling the Red Sea the world’s “I-95”—a reference to the eastern seaboard’s Maine-to-Florida highway—the American military officer was underscoring the waterway’s importance to a core tenet of U.S. national security strategy: maintenance of the global commons, including open sea lines of communication.
Critical Red Sea chokepoints include Egypt’s Suez Canal and the 20-mile-wide strait between Yemen and Djibouti known as the Bab al-Mandab. Military strategists identify this latter passage as one that could be closed, to great consequence, in the event of a major conflict. Not only is the Bab al-Mandab now home to both U.S. and Chinese military bases, but it has also been name-checked by Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Forces as a potential target should its adversaries look to close the Strait of Hormuz.
Beijing’s growing presence in the region demands strategic consideration. It also offers the U.S. military an opportunity both to learn and to set precedents—after all, this is presumably the first of more Chinese bases to come. But focusing singularly on Beijing, absent complementary plans to engage states on both sides of the Red Sea, is short-sighted. Countering China requires the United States to be relevant in the region, and this means replacing the narrative of withdrawal with more active diplomacy in the Gulf and the Horn—enabling political transitions, mitigating rivalries, promoting trade, affirming security cooperation and supporting multilateralism.
Will Washington Make an Appearance?
The Trump administration has remained mostly on the sidelines, and it has said exactly zero about efforts to stand up a Red Sea forum. European officials, conscious of both the region’s global import and the limits of their influence with key players, have sought to cultivate greater American engagement. But not only have their appeals generated little interest, they have struggled even to find an appropriate senior U.S. official with whom to regularly engage.
The problem is also bureaucratic, as transregional dynamics challenge institutions that have long been divided into “Middle East” and “Africa” bureaus. At the State Department, Africanists and Arabists are neither accustomed to engaging one another nor encouraged to adapt. At the Pentagon, where the Red Sea likewise represents a seam between three of the U.S. military’s six combatant commands, defense officials wrestle with how to think about the challenge. While China’s presence has garnered plenty of interest, the task of developing and resourcing a long-term global strategy is no easy task, especially in the absence of an immediate and clearly defined threat.
Washington should make an appearance in the next season of Red Sea geopolitics. It need not drive the action, but its continued absence frustrates allies and leaves opportunities to advance U.S. interests on the table. There are simple ways to begin—without overhauling institutions or redrawing combatant commands.
For example, the assistant secretaries of state for Near East Affairs, and for Africa, should together undertake a diplomatic tour of the Red Sea region. They might engage capitals on emergent transregional dynamics while signaling what kind of Red Sea forum the United States could get behind, and what resources it could bring to bear. Given U.S. silence to date, merely demonstrating American interest could alter calculations in the region, reveal opportunities for cooperation, and help nudge allies on both shores toward stability, prosperity and integration.
The history of the Gulf and the Horn can be understood partly in dichotomy, with contrasting notions of the Red Sea as a feature of union or division. While people and states have interacted across this narrow seaway for generations, global trends—rising inequality, shifting centers of power, increasing migration, popular demands for democracy and a great maritime trade contest—are blurring boundaries across the Red Sea as never before. The emergent transregional order, whether cooperative or competitive, will demand our sustained attention.
Saturday, 21 December 2019 11:24
Written by
Fesseha Nair
A New Year's Resolution is a promise to do an act of self-improvement or something better than the past. I will here deal with The properties( both physical and chemical) we have failed in the past and start act to improve.
1. Building cooperative relations: ምሕናጽ ሓባራዊ ዝምድና/ To be successful you must build a cooperative network among a diverse set of allies. The Eritrean Opposition forces in Diaspora failed in the past to build a cooperative relationship among different groups both locally, regionally and globally. Let us renew our relations with special attention and devotion that we missed in the past.
Building Trust ምሕናጽ ሓድሕዳዊ ምት እምማን, Lack of Trust in the opposition has been seen many times in their actions. The concept " trust" is difficult to define but one way to understand trust is to see it through character and competence. Character focuses on personal motives ( i.e, does he or she want to do the right thing?), While competence focuses on skills necessary to realize motives ( i. e., does he or she know the right things to do?). Stephen Covey has clarified in his book ( Seven habits of highly effective people)
The traits of character are consistency, openness and purpose.
Consistency/ምእዙዝነት is when people are guided by a core set of principles; they are naturally more predictable because their actions are consistent with these principles.
Openness/ ግሉጽነት when people have a clear sense of who they and what they value, when they are more receptive to others. This trait provides us with the capacity to emphasize and the talent to build consensus among divergent people.
Purpose/ናይ ሓባር ዕላማታት is when leaders are driven not only by personal ambitions but also for the common good. Their primary concern must what is best for the people not the organization. This willingness to subordinate personal and organizational interests to higher purpose, in our case saving the Eritrean people from the oppression of the dictatorship garners the respect, loyalty, and trust of the people
Creating A shared Vision:ምፍጣር ናይ ሓባር ራእይ-What is a vision? A vision is a dot on the horizon at which all subsidiary actions and efforts are directed. In the Eritrean opposition forces what is that dot in the horizon? Are all have the same understanding about this dot? Have we directed our main actions towards this dot? No, not at all. A vision is not simply sloganeering but it must be effective. There are four essential qualities of creating a common vision. A vision must be communicated. A vision must have a strategic sense. A vision must have passion. A vision must inspire others.
The opposition lacks a shared vision that fosters the common good. Let us promise to act build a shared vision by working together instead of negation and defamation of each other.
Managing conflicts:/ ኣፈታትሓ ግርጭታት/ Disagreements and conflict emerge at any time in the life of any work. The Eritrean opposition have been disagreeing over solving problems internally and externally. The Eritrean opposition has been pursuing an adversarial conflict management in the past years. Let us change this trend and adopt an integrative conflict management that fosters trust and mutual respect.
Partnering:/ ምሕዝነት Partnering is a state of mind, a philosophy on how to conduct business with others. Partnering represents a commitment from all the participants working on the project to respect, trust, and collaborate. Let us promise this new year to have a mind and philosophy that can help us build respect, trust and collaboration.
Learning to separate the people from the problem:- ምምሃር "ጉዳያት ካብ ሰብ" ፈሊኻ ምርኣይ What is learning? Learning is commonly associated with a change in how we understand and interpret the reality that surrounds us. We have been focusing on personalities instead of focusing on issues. Let us promise this new year to focus on issues instead of personalities.
Our life is always learning. Those who think they already know will never learn. Some elements in the opposition especially in the social media think that they already know and never learn their real surroundings and the issues that need to be focused. Let us promise to create a learning environment. Positive lessons can be best derived from an environment free of suspicion and mistrust. Let us create an environment that is free of suspicion and mistrust. ማሕበራዊ መራኸቢ ብዙሓን መድረኽ ማሃርን ኣፍልጦን ክኸውን ኣለዎ እምበር መደረኽ ናይ ምጥቅቃዕን ምትሕንኳልን፣ ምንእኣስን ንከይኸውን መብጻዓና ናይዚ ዓመት 2020 ይኹን።
