Myanmar is on the edge of a state collapse nearly 11 months after a military coup. Violence and insecurity have followed the coup, while the country is also suffering greatly from COVID-19 and a resulting economic crisis. Former State Counsellor Aung San Suu Kyi, who lived under house arrest for nearly 15 years in the 1990s and the early 2000s, might be spending many more years in detention after the junta sentenced her to two years in prison, while still facing additional charges. But the Southeast Asian country of 54 million people is slipping away from headlines, as other important global issues are occupying the world’s attention. Meanwhile, Myanmar seems to have fully returned to autocracy, showing little hope for the freedom of its citizens.

What can the international community do to resolve the political crisis in Myanmar? Western countries have already imposed targeted sanctions on junta members, including freezing their assets in foreign bank accounts and restricting their access to visas. But they are struggling to change the junta’s course as its State Administration Council (SAC) was smart enough to court China and Russia, both of which have continued to undermine the West’s efforts to pressure the military regime. While China is unhappy with the political instability created by the coup, it has not openly sided with the rival National Unity Government (NUG). Meanwhile, the Myanmar army’s relationship with Moscow has reached an all-time high. The international community thus does not have much leverage to address the political crisis in Myanmar, but they can still do at least three things to help the country.

Bring all parties to the negotiation table

The junta’s SAC is resolute to gain complete and total power by any means necessary – even if that means killing civilians. The NUG believes that only an armed revolution could stop the junta, so it launched the “People’s Defensive War” against the Tatmadaw, the Myanmar’s armed forces. Both parties are determined to defeat the opposite side in a civil war. But violence is not — and should not — be the answer to settle this dispute, especially when the conflict has reached a stalemate. The outside world must help foster a return to a democratic path in Myanmar through a peaceful resolution because it has invested so much in the country in the past 10 years supporting the democratic transition. The Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) reached a five-point consensus with the coup leaders in April, which included immediately ceasing the violence and beginning a constructive dialogue among all parties. So far, the SAC is not keen to implement the ASEAN consensus. To be fair, the NUG is not interested in engaging in a dialogue process either. The opposition movement wants to remove the Tatmadaw from power once and for all.

Both sides are trying to get the control of the country, but before this fierce competition ends, Myanmar could fall to pieces. A large part of the country has already been a battleground for numerous fights between the military and resistance groups, and the human and economic costs of a civil war would be astronomical. The outside world must pressure and persuade both the SAC and the NUG to come to the negotiation table. The junta is paranoid with anti-Western sentiments, and it does not have much respect for ASEAN either. But the generals are comfortable with some global figures, such as Bill Richardson of the United States and Yōhei Sasakawa of Japan. Both visited Myanmar in November, and they should continue talking to the top brass. Quiet diplomacy by global statesmen whom the junta seems to trust could perhaps persuade the generals to negotiate. Similarly, the West needs to convince the NUG that political dialogue is a way forward. China holds much leverage on both sides, so it is essential to have Beijing on board in this negotiation process as well.

Provide humanitarian assistance

Myanmar is experiencing one of the worst crises since its independence. Fighting with several ethnic armed organizations resumed after the coup. The NUG and its military wing, the People’s Defense Forces (PDFs), along with various armed resistance groups, are carrying out guerrilla warfare against the Tatmadaw. The junta seems determined to destroy the PDFs. As in conflict areas in the past, the Myanmar military is now committing human rights violations against combatants and civilians. Violence has forced hundreds of thousands to flee their homes. On top of that, a new wave of COVID-19 in July and August killed thousands more and paralyzed the country’s health care system. Compared to other countries in the region, Myanmar has low levels of vaccination coverage, which leaves it vulnerable to future COVID-19 waves. Furthermore, the twin crisis of the coup and the pandemic are severely impacting an economy that is expected to contract around 18% this year, according to the World Bank. The United Nations emergency relief coordinator said that three million people across Myanmar need life-saving humanitarian assistance because of rising conflict and insecurity, the pandemic, and a failing economy.

The international community must work with the U.N. and NGOs to provide humanitarian aid to Myanmar. As Richardson told The New York Times, 54 million people should not suffer because of the political crisis of the military takeover. The world can help by providing COVID-19 vaccines, offering assistance to internally displaced persons, and contributing economic support to small businesses and the poor. There is a risk that delivering aid to Myanmar allows the Tatmadaw to claim credit and bolster its domestic support. To avoid this risk and not legitimize the junta and entrench military rule, the donor community needs to consult with local civil society organizations (CSOs) and international development organizations inside Myanmar to develop an effective aid strategy.

Engage with the Tatmadaw

During Myanmar’s democratic transition, the Western governments and NGOs poured millions of dollars into the country to build the capacity of local CSOs and nurture political and social activists. They are now at the forefront of the resistance movement against the coup. Western nations, however, failed to engage with the Tatmadaw. When Myanmar enjoyed greater freedom and prosperity, soldiers did not have many opportunities to interact with the world outside of their own institution, and military propaganda was reinforced to them through training and other means of indoctrination. Social media, particularly Facebook, fueled political polarization in Myanmar, creating intense fights between Tatmadaw supporters and Aung San Suu Kyi fans on the internet. Even though the military has sent thousands of officers to Russia for graduate studies, they are still cementing authoritarian mindsets due to a lack of exposure to democratic education.

To change Myanmar, the Tatmadaw must be changed. The international community should start thinking about engaging with Myanmar’s military after the current political turmoil ends. Whatever the outcome of the present crisis, it is likely that the Tatmadaw, as the country’s strongest institution, will still be there. Engaging with the Tatmadaw is thus required, but it does not mean lifting existing arms embargos or transferring military technology to Myanmar. Western countries should provide norm transmission and diffusion through international exposure and education related to democratic values. Offering the Tatmadaw training on democracy, human rights, and leadership should be considered. Even teaching English to Burmese military officers would be a good start. The United States, the United Kingdom, and other countries tried these initiatives briefly, though they all ended after the Rohingya crisis broke out in 2016-2017. This time, the West should put more effort into helping to integrate the Tatmadaw into the international arena to end their isolation. Reforming an authoritarian army entrenched in power for decades — with a record of human rights violations — will take time, of course. But with patience and the right strategy, it is worth trying.

The path to peace

The ongoing political crisis in Myanmar has no end in sight. The hard-won democratic achievements of the last 10 years have disappeared. No one knows what the future will look like. But an armed revolution might not be a wise idea, given the brutal counterinsurgency history of the Tatmadaw. The international community should bring all parties to the negotiable table to start constructive dialogues to achieve a peaceful resolution. Global statesmen should continue quiet diplomacy to persuade the generals to stop violence and perhaps finally agree to talk with the democratic movement. The NUG could come to the negotiation table when they realize that armed revolution cannot topple the military regime. Humanitarian aid must be delivered to the poor and most vulnerable groups inside the country and along the border. As a long-term solution, the West should engage with the Tatmadaw to reform it as a professional army by discouraging their isolation and giving them access to a liberal education.

The world should not give up on Myanmar.

      

In a surprise move, Pakistan, one of the 110 countries invited to U.S. President Joe Biden’s Summit for Democracy, skipped the event. Its Ministry of Foreign Affairs offered an oblique statement, thanking the administration for the invitation, and saying that it looked forward to engaging with the U.S. on democracy “at an opportune time in the future.”

Why Pakistan was invited

Pakistan is the fifth largest country in the world — and has a functioning, albeit flawed democracy. The shortcomings primarily stem from the dominance of its military, which exercises influence over key elements of the country’s security and foreign policy. But in a break from periods of military rule in the past, since its 2008 election Pakistan has had successful transitions of power from one civilian government to another via elections. It also has a robust political opposition.

To be sure, Pakistan has a troubled human rights record, including suppression of dissidents from its Baluch and Pashtun ethnic minorities, and cases of mob vigilante violence against those accused of blasphemy, including the horrific killing of a Sri Lankan factory manager on December 3. Given these failings, some considered Pakistan’s invitation contentious, and argued it was inconsistent given the other countries in the region that were left out, such as Bangladesh (albeit itself a flawed democracy). But the invitations went out to a range of countries with questionable records on human rights. More importantly, for America — which has all too often bolstered Pakistan’s military at the expense of its civilian leaders, especially in dealings involving Afghanistan for the last four decades — the invitation was an important signal of support for Pakistan’s democracy. It also balanced India’s invitation with one to a regional rival. It is an invitation Pakistan should have accepted.

Pakistan’s reasons for skipping the summit

Last November, in a statement congratulating Biden for his election win, Pakistan’s Prime Minister Imran Khan specifically mentioned that he looked forward to the Summit for Democracy and to working with the White House to counter corruption. But the intervening year has brought a cold shoulder from the Biden administration toward Pakistan and specifically toward Khan, who is yet to receive a phone call from Biden (the issue of the phone call has been the subject of considerable attention in Pakistan). For Pakistan, which had enjoyed a good relationship with the Trump administration, especially during its latter half, with Khan and Trump having personally hit it off — hopes for a broadening of the U.S.-Pakistan relationship with Biden have not materialized. Given the Taliban’s swift takeover of Afghanistan this year (and Pakistan’s long-standing support for the group), the mood in Washington has been dour — though two congressional delegations have visited Pakistan in recent weeks, including a four-member Senate delegation over the weekend, ostensibly to discuss Afghanistan. The Biden administration has narrowed the scope of the relationship to limited engagement on Afghanistan — and given the lack of a phone call, made clear that high-level engagement is not a priority. Khan and his government have perceived that as a snub, and that is part of the subtext for the declined invitation. Khan, who has made clear that he wants a relationship with the U.S. that values Pakistan’s sovereignty, is likely to find support for the decision at home.

The second and perhaps larger factor is China. Pakistan and China are exceedingly close partners, and Pakistan is the flagship venue for Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative — the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor promises $62 billion worth of Chinese economic investments in Pakistan. The two countries also have a long-standing military and strategic partnership that dates back to the 1960s. In a speech last week, Khan said that Pakistan did not want to be part of any “bloc” and wanted instead to bridge gaps between the U.S. and China. Lijiang Zhao, a Chinese foreign ministry spokesman, tweeted that Pakistan had declined to attend the summit and was a “real iron brother.” The underlying message is that Pakistan declined the invitation in support of China, which has shown displeasure over Taiwan’s inclusion. In fact, a source at Pakistan’s foreign ministry directly told The Guardian that Pakistan was not attending as China was not invited.

(This may also say something about the summit more broadly — that some countries perceived it as an event that required them to make a choice between the U.S. and China, rather than a meeting to advance the cause of democracy — that the Biden administration should note.)

Why skipping the summit is a mistake on Pakistan’s part

The invitation was in effect an opening offered by the Biden administration to Pakistan. It provided a chance for Pakistan to present its perspective to a global audience that is not always inclined to view it kindly — including regarding its democratic progress and aspirations. But Islamabad gave up the platform the summit offered, and spurned the chance to be at the table when discussing key issues on which many question its commitments: those of human rights and democracy. That is a mistake.

Pakistan has also repeatedly said that it doesn’t want its relationships with the U.S. and with China to be seen as zero-sum, and that it wants good relationships with both countries. But if Pakistan chose not to attend a global summit held by the U.S. to show its support for China, Pakistan has effectively chosen a side: China’s.

If skipping the summit was a response to Biden’s cold shoulder to Khan, Pakistan could have sent the foreign minister as a delegate. Skipping the summit altogether is a move that will clearly be noted by the Biden administration — and if Pakistan wants to improve ties with it, it’s a puzzling decision that will almost certainly have left a sour taste.

      

Following the latest incident in the South China Sea, in which Chinese coastguard vessels blocked and water-cannoned Philippine ships carrying resupplies to Second Thomas Shoal, the silence of ASEAN (the Association of Southeast Asian Nations) stood as a glaring but not surprising contrast to the quick responses from the United States and the European Union.

Coordinating a concerted position on the South China Sea is a formidable task for ASEAN, largely because of the institution’s consensus-based decisionmaking tradition. Despite a few exceptions, its chronic inability to speak with one voice leaves the South China Sea an arena for growing friction between the U.S. and China.

As U.S.-China strategic competition intensifies, the geopolitical buffer ASEAN has instituted in the past three decades is rapidly shrinking.

Since the end of the Cold War, ASEAN has taken great pains to cultivate ties with individual major players, so they develop vested interests in the region’s stability while enabling ASEAN to avoid taking sides among competing powers — a strategy characterized by Asia observers as one of omni-enmeshment, hedging, or double binding. This strategy has achieved remarkable success in bringing peace to the region and won ASEAN a reputation as a bridge between great powers and an institutional buffer in geopolitics.

But with the return of great power competition and the formation of groupings such as the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue (Quad), ASEAN is struggling to maintain relevance in the regional architecture. Former Indonesian foreign minister Marty Natalegawa noted at a recent South China Sea conference that minilateral groupings such as the Australia-U.K.-U.S. (AUKUS) trilateral security pact and the Quad should serve as a “wake-up call” for ASEAN — if it shows signs of irrelevance, then “security will be sought elsewhere.”

ASEAN needs to maintain its relevance by repositioning itself between the great powers as a bridge and a geopolitical buffer. An ASEAN-centric buffer also serves the U.S. and China’s interests.

As a recent Brookings Institution report noted, the two giants would “profit from the existence of third-party mechanisms that can provide impartial information, suggest road maps for deconfliction, and outline pathways for collaboration that neither side might trust if emanating from the other.” To do so, ASEAN needs to take a bold approach in leveraging its influence with Beijing and Washington, both of which have at the very least verbally endorsed ASEAN centrality.

Long touted by Beijing as a showcase of its neighborly diplomacy, ASEAN’s ability to restrain Beijing is real but often understated. Even in the South China Sea disputes, ASEAN’s strength lies in its numbers and being the weaker side, which translates into its unique normative and bargaining power.

When openly resisted by a concerted ASEAN effort, Beijing is more likely to modulate its behavior. A telling but underappreciated example is the aftermath of the 2012 Scarborough Shoal standoff. To mitigate the fall-out of ASEAN’s failure to present a cohesive position and in response to China’s seizure of the shoal, ASEAN foreign ministers declared six principles on South China Sea disputes. They called for respect of international law and self-restraint by all parties. This concerted resistance came as a sign of the high reputational costs ASEAN could impose on China and is arguably one factor that has since prevented China from seizing additional land features.

ASEAN should continue to meet assertive Chinese behavior with unity. It should also communicate clearly to Beijing when China’s oversteps have pushed Southeast Asian countries further towards Washington. This is important as analysts in China hesitate to criticize Beijing’s often self-defeating foreign policy, and criticism from the U.S. is received with suspicion or even defiance.

ASEAN sceptics might question whether it is possible for the organization to rebuild its role as a geopolitical buffer, considering Laos and Cambodia’s tilt towards China. While this criticism has some merit, there is a limit to how far China can push the envelope by using the two countries to block concerted ASEAN efforts.

There have been calls for expelling Cambodia and Laos from ASEAN. Should that happen, even if only excluding them from ASEAN’s South China Sea processes, it would be a loss for China, Cambodia, and Laos. Beijing will lose much of its indirect veto power on those processes, while Cambodia and Laos will lose a vital component of their utility to Beijing and probably even the Chinese economic perks that come with it. Hence, ASEAN should make clear that China cannot keep pushing the envelope indefinitely.

With Washington, ASEAN should make clear that pressuring or marginalizing the institution or treating Southeast Asian countries as instruments of U.S. competition with China would encounter resistance. For instance, after the Trump administration adopted its Indo-Pacific strategy in 2019, ASEAN pushed back by releasing its “Outlook on the Indo-Pacific.”

ASEAN should also encourage minilateral groupings in the region to go beyond their security-oriented missions and play a greater role in providing critical public goods and attractive alternatives to Chinese investment in the region. This will boost ASEAN’s resilience vis-à-vis China.

Meanwhile, ASEAN could seek to broker initial steps to reduce tensions in the South China Sea, such as encouraging China to pledge not to declare an air defense identification zone there. It could also seek a Chinese pledge of not conducting extra land reclamation or fielding additional military assets to China-controlled land features in the Spratly Islands.

Moreover, ASEAN should urge Beijing to consider a pledge of respecting the freedom of navigation for foreign military vessels, a right that China has enjoyed as its navy conducts blue-water operations.

On the U.S. side, ASEAN can encourage Washington to consider a gradual reduction of freedom of navigation operations, provided that China honors its pledges. Also, it might seek a U.S. pledge of not fielding intermediate-range missiles in the first island chain to avoid further fueling the arms race in the region. In return for the U.S. pledge, ASEAN may encourage Beijing to dial down its military and paramilitary activity within the island chain.

The recent virtual summit between presidents Joe Biden and Xi Jinping and the two sides’ shared interest in conflict avoidance could create an opportunity for ASEAN to make such a push. Despite rhetoric about the need to set up “guardrails” for their relations, mistrust between Washington and Beijing runs deep.

ASEAN no longer enjoys the luxury of time in establishing itself as an effective geostrategic buffer. Its traditional approach that tends to start with low-hanging fruit to build trust among regional players is no longer adequate in the face of rapid developments.

It needs to be honest about this and get right to the most difficult core issue. The aforementioned tension-reduction measures require no irreversible commitment and can operate amid a trust deficit. In the long run, these steps can set the stage for negotiations on strategic issues such as demilitarizing land features and arms control.

      

President Joe Biden has set the table for the world’s first-ever summit devoted to building both national and international political will for democratic renewal. Given backsliding in democratic governance, human rights, and rule of law around the world, and the rising threat posed by authoritarian leaders in China and Russia, the timing is propitious, if not overdue.

But like any good dinner party, who gets invited usually determines the quality of the evening and the mood for future such gatherings. In the case of the Summit for Democracy, if the heads of state and government of some 112 countries (including the United States) bring to the meal some honest recognition of their shortcomings (humble pie), along with concrete pledges for reform and cooperation (the main course), the convening would have been worth the effort.

Foreign policy visionaries have long held loftier ambitions of a grand alliance of democracies that would rebalance the international order to favor liberal democratic governance over autocracy. The more urgent task, however — and indispensable to such a project — is building healthy and strong democracies characterized by accountable and open governance, respect for fundamental rights in law and practice, and impartial and accessible dispute resolution mechanisms — in short, the rule of law rather than the rule of a single party or strongman. Only with functioning democratic systems that deliver on the basic needs and promise of human dignity at the national level can we hope to build a structure for collective action by like-minded actors on the global stage, and offer the world a compelling alternative to China’s authoritarian model.

The invitation list

Although the White House studiously avoided publishing any formal criteria for which countries to invite, it should come as no surprise that the Biden administration has invited democracies such as Denmark, New Zealand, and Uruguay. Consistently ranking as some of the top performers in their regions, these countries and many others can offer good examples and friendly advice to their neighbors. Similarly, it is plain why some countries were not invited, as autocracies such as Venezuela, Myanmar, and Belarus continue to worsen in terms of fundamental rights, open and accountable governance, and corruption.

More interesting are cases where countries received an invitation despite performing poorly in relation to the three main themes of the summit: defending against authoritarianism, fighting corruption, and promoting respect for human rights. Geopolitical considerations naturally influenced which of these swing states made the cut.

An objective assessment on grounds of democratic governance, human rights, and rule of law, nonetheless, is worth a closer look. The World Justice Project (WJP)’s Rule of Law Index has collected data from thousands of in-country experts and households for over a decade. Using its latest edition released in October, which scores 138 countries plus Hong Kong, I analyzed the invitation list based on performance on the three rule of law factors that represent the themes of the summit.

Asia: Philippines, Pakistan, and India in, Bangladesh out

In Asia, where China’s influence is felt most acutely, some invitees were obvious choices, while others were more surprising. The Philippines, an invited U.S. ally, has the third-lowest index rank of 15 countries in the East Asia & Pacific region, just above Myanmar. It also had the greatest 2020-2021 decrease in its score in the region (-2.9%), aside from Myanmar, with its greatest declines in the rule of law factors that align with the themes of Biden’s summit: constraints on government powers (-5%), fundamental rights (-5%), and absence of corruption (-4%).

In South Asia, Pakistan, ranking at 130th out of 139 on global rule of law scores and fifth of six regional countries, was invited, while Bangladesh, which scores slightly higher, was not. Here, trend lines may partly explain the discrepancy. Since 2015, Pakistan’s score has improved slightly, while Bangladesh has worsened, led by significant declines in constraints on government powers (-6%), absence of corruption (-3%), and fundamental rights (-5%). Another likely factor for Pakistan’s invitation was a desire to balance India’s inclusion with a regional, if aspiring, democratic rival. While India ranks in the middle tier of all countries in the WJP index, it had significant decreases (-4%) in its scores on constraints on government powers, absence of corruption, and fundamental rights from 2020 to 2021.

Europe and North America: Poland in, Hungary and Turkey out

Europe and North America have historically performed well in terms of democracy and the rule of law. That said, in the past few years, even more stable democratic countries in the trans-Atlantic region have experienced democratic backsliding, part of a global rising trend of authoritarianism. Poland stands out in this regard; since 2015 its overall index score has fallen by about 10%. Nonetheless, the White House invited Warsaw to the summit, perhaps a nod to its important role in NATO as a bulwark against Russia. On the other hand, Hungary, facing its fifth straight year of decline, was excluded, and Turkey, which has mostly fallen out of the democratic camp under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s leadership, also was turned down.

A particular challenge for the United States as host of the summit is how to reconcile its declining performance on democracy and the rule of law over the last several years with its presumed leadership role as a “beacon of freedom.” In 2021, the United States’ overall rule of law score dropped 2.9%, more than any other high-income country or any other country in Western Europe and North America. Deterioration was particularly pronounced in the factors measuring constraints on government powers, absence of corruption, open government, respect for fundamental rights, and criminal justice. Washington’s faltering effort to get its own house in order via a much-needed domestic political reform agenda has bruised its otherwise welcome recommitment to democracy promotion as a foreign policy priority.

Africa: Nigeria and DRC in, Rwanda out

Of 16 African invitees, South Africa is no surprise, despite ongoing serious challenges with corruption and order and security. However, Rwanda, which ranks first in sub-Saharan Africa on the WSP index but low on freedom of expression and civic space, did not make the cut. Nigeria, another invitee, had the greatest overall score drop in the region last year since, mostly driven by a deterioration in constraints on government powers and fundamental rights, while corruption continues to be its biggest challenge. The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), ranked 137th out of 139 globally in overall rule of law score and the worst performer in Africa, is another surprising guest on the list. Both Abuja and Kinshasa will be hard-pressed to demonstrate serious commitment to cleaning up chronic weaknesses in fighting corruption.

Latin America: Brazil and Mexico in, El Salvador out

In Latin America, Uruguay, Costa Rica, and Chile are the top performers on the index, and their invitations are unsurprising. The region’s two heavyweights, Mexico and Brazil, were borderline but made the cut. The overall score for Mexico, which has steadily declined since 2015, dropped 2.9% in the past year. Brazil had a similar decline in the rule of law since 2020, part of a negative trend over the last six years.

El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala, which are critical nodes in the Biden administration’s efforts to address the root causes of the migration crisis, are notably and deservedly absent from the summit list. All three declined in their overall rule of law score and in constraints on government powers, absence of corruption, and fundamental rights. Of them El Salvador had the biggest decline, mainly driven by the rise in authoritarianism and restrictions on fundamental freedoms under the Bukele administration.

How the invitation list compares to the 2021 WSJ Rule of Law Index

Why it matters

A functioning club of democracies, as well-meaning and necessary as it is, depends on members that meet a minimum standard of democratic governance and a shared interest in collective action to defend it. Deciding who to include under the first criterion should be more science than art. We have treaties, declarations, protocols, and constitutions that articulate a set of universal principles and also allow plenty of room for diverse forms of democratic pluralism. We also have reams of reporting, empirical studies, and indices that benchmark progress and regression against these standards. What is missing is the political will of leaders and their allies to share power and govern for the many, rather than the few, at home and abroad.

The Summit for Democracy, and the year of action to follow, will prove its worth if it can help mobilize such political will, starting with a democratically dysfunctional United States. It offers a timely test of the basic proposition that democracies do have the capacity for self-correction and can learn from each other along the way. It gives civil society an opportunity to leverage summit commitments to push for reforms back home. It may even grease the wheels for more meaningful international cooperation to control corruption, detoxify our information ecosystem, and contain authoritarians, all worthwhile goals. The table is set, let the feasting begin.

      

President Joe Biden will hold a secure video call with Russian President Vladimir Putin December 7 against the backdrop of a menacing Russian military build-up near Ukraine. U.S. intelligence believes the Russians may amass 175,000 troops near its western neighbor early in 2022.

Does Putin intend to invade Ukraine? He could be bluffing. In April, the Russian army deployed a large force near Ukraine but did not act. On the other hand, given the scale of ongoing military preparations and the hostile rhetoric pouring out of Moscow, Putin may mean it this time.

It is also possible that Putin has not yet made a decision. He likes options and might hope the threat of force will secure concessions from Kyiv toward settling the simmering conflict in Donbas in eastern Ukraine on Moscow’s terms. In any case, the Biden-Putin conversation may offer one of the last best chances to affect Kremlin calculations of the costs of an assault on Ukraine.

Biden has said he would make it “very, very difficult” for Putin to attack. He should lay out the potential costs to ensure his Russian counterpart fully understands what would follow a Russian invasion. Those costs are substantial:

• A West-Russia freeze. Small positive developments in the U.S.-Russia relationship have occurred since Biden and Putin met in June in Geneva, including a broadening of diplomatic contacts and a strategic stability dialogue that both sides report as constructive. Nothing would kill those prospects more quickly than a Russian invasion of its neighbor. The same is true of relations with other Western countries; Putin should anticipate pariah status.
• New sanctions. Biden should explain that military action would trigger new Western sanctions targeting Russian state-owned enterprises, bans on holding Russian state debt, and visa bans and asset freezes on individuals and their families (let Russian oligarchs explain to their spouses why they cannot make their annual shopping trip to London). Even expulsion from the SWIFT international payment mechanism could be on the table. Biden should add that, if Germany and the European Union do not shut down the Nord Stream 2 pipeline project, he would not waive U.S. sanctions as he did in May, and that he would work with European countries in a concerted effort to expand their access to alternatives to Russian energy.
• Bolstering NATO’s defenses. Following Russia’s seizure of Crimea in 2014, NATO deployed battlegroups to Poland and each of the Baltic states. Biden should remind Putin that each battlegroup numbers less than 1,500 soldiers and that NATO still abides by its 1997 assurance that it would not permanently deploy substantial combat forces on the territory of new members. However, if the Russian military assaults Ukraine, then the Baltic states, Poland, and others in Central and Eastern Europe will request more NATO military power and infrastructure on their territory — and Biden would consider such requests sympathetically.
• Military assistance. Biden should note that individual NATO members have exercised restraint in the kinds and amount of assistance and equipment they have provided Ukraine’s military. That could change.
• A potential military quagmire. Lastly, some in Moscow apparently believe the Russian army would be welcomed in Ukraine. Biden should note that the Ukrainians will fight and, even if losing, would extract a price from Russia. He might recall the experiences of the Soviet Union and United States in Afghanistan: getting in proved relatively easy; the real casualties and costs came later.

Biden should also tell Putin that Washington is prepared to engage more actively on diplomacy. He should offer to join the German and French leaders in the Normandy format process aimed at mediating a resolution between Russia and Ukraine. He should also reaffirm the U.S. position supporting the Minsk agreements.

Biden might offer two qualifiers regarding Minsk. First, all parties must implement the agreements, including Russia. Second, U.S. support does not mean acceptance of Russia’s desired interpretation of undefined Minsk provisions. For example, “special status” for Donbas should not include the right to veto national-level policies.

Questions about Europe’s security architecture and how Ukraine and Russia fit in underlie the Russia-Ukraine conflict. Biden should offer Putin a discussion on those issues, while noting that they cannot solve the questions over the heads of the Europeans. The Ukrainians, in particular, need to be at the table.

Biden can tell Putin there is no enthusiasm within NATO for putting Kyiv on a membership track now. But the alliance will not reverse its “open door” policy. Doing so would require consensus, and not many members — let alone all 30 — would agree to such a reversal. “Not now but not never” for Ukraine would defuse the question by kicking it down the road. If Russia genuinely worked with the United States and NATO members to mitigate the tensions that now divide Europe, its relationship with the alliance could well change.

Biden can also tell Putin that he would be ready to take due account of legitimate Russian security interests. For example, Putin expressed concern about deployment in Ukraine of U.S. missiles that could strike Moscow.  Biden can tell Putin that, in the right context, Washington would assure Moscow that it would not deploy offensive missiles on Ukrainian territory.

The U.S. president should aim to leave Putin with an understanding that military action would have painful costs for Russia but that U.S. diplomacy is prepared to engage more actively to resolve the problems at the root of the crisis. That just might help stop a war.

      

As the world’s largest democracy, with 1.4 billion people, India is an indispensable actor for democratic cooperation, especially beyond the West. For the Indian government, the future of democracy is being played out in Asia and Africa, where states are experimenting with competing governance models amidst China’s growing autocratic influence. More than a moral issue, India sees democracy as a factor that can facilitate convergence with fellow democracies towards a free and open Indo-Pacific.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi will likely use his participation at the Summit for Democracy to present India as a vibrant democracy that, despite many flaws, remains an exceptional success in the non-Western world. He may also see the summit as an opportunity to showcase India’s values-driven foreign policy and democracy assistance, especially to developing countries.

By striking a contrast with China, Modi may also seek to highlight India as a preferred economic and strategic partner based on shared principles such as the rule of law to attract investments or revive multilateralism. Finally, Modi may use the summit to further articulate a non-Western, native definition of Indian democracy, which dilutes the idea of universal democratic standards and resonates with his nationalist support base.

While Delhi is keen to play an active role in the summit, it is also likely to have a few concerns. Participation could also amplify external criticism about the health of India’s own democracy. The Indian government may have reservations about Washington’s central role in deciding the summit’s invitation list, agenda, and future. Finally, Delhi could also be concerned that the absence of some of its closest democratic neighbors such as Bangladesh will help promoting China’s view that the summit is just another Western-led, strategic ploy to divide Asia.

Opportunities

In line with his references to democracy in previous international engagements, Modi’s address at the summit is likely to present Indian democracy as an exceptional and exemplary model. As the country prepares to celebrate the 75th anniversary of independence from colonial Britain, he may use the summit as an opportunity to showcase examples of how Indian democracy has not only survived but is thriving despite multiple challenges.

To bolster the legitimacy of India’s democratic model, Modi will likely include several facts and figures, including India’s electronic voting system with around 900 million voters and record turnout in the 2019 national elections. Opposition parties currently rule more than half of India’s 28 states, but that will likely be left out. Modi will probably also refer to the country’s extraordinary social and religious heterogeneity, its youth, and inclusive policy initiatives to project India as a rising and deepening — rather than backsliding — democracy.

Second, the Indian government will probably also use the summit to showcase its international democracy assistance efforts, which remain widely unknown in the West. India has trained thousands of officials from Africa and Asia on electoral and parliamentary systems. Its South-South development cooperation model focuses on good governance and civil society participation.

At Indian military academies, foreign officers have been taught for decades about civilian control of the military and trained to respect human rights and the free media. Through its technical assistance program, dating back to the 1960s, India has also played a leading role in sharing developmental solutions based on democratic institutions and inclusive governance, from health to education.

Third, by emphasizing shared values, Delhi may also see the summit as an opportunity to present itself as a strategic alternative to China. Especially with Western democracies, the Indian government sees an opportunity to leverage its governance as a strategic differentiator. Modi may also present the Indian economy as a hospitable destination for foreign investors, with the rule of law and internal diversity facilitating entrepreneurship and innovation.

Finally, Modi’s participation offers him with another international platform to expand his political support at home by conveying the message that India is respected as the world’s largest democracy. To resonate with his support base, he is likely to further articulate a native, non-Western, and “Indic” vision of Indian democracy as a “civilizational-state,” two terms that are popular with the nationalist ideology of his Bharatiya Janata Party. In his recent address to the United Nations General Assembly, for example, he referred to India as the “mother” of all democracies.

Concerns

While India’s approach to the Summit for Democracy is likely to be driven by a sense of opportunity, there may also be a few concerns on the minds of Delhi’s decisionmakers.

One risk relates to the summit’s exposure to criticism, both international and domestic: can India reap the benefits of promoting its democratic system without coming under growing scrutiny? Given that Modi is expected to emphasize the positive qualities of Indian democracy, there will naturally also be questions raised about its deficiencies.

Various democracy indices have placed India on a declining trajectory, including Freedom House’s Freedom in the World, V-Dem, and Reporters Without Borders’ World Press Freedom Index. Indian Foreign Minister S. Jaishankar has dismissed these as an exercise in “hypocrisy,” while one of the ruling party’s influential foreign policy thinkers argued that the U.S. has no legitimacy to push India unless it solves its own democratic shortcomings.

Beyond pushing back against criticism, Delhi has also doubled down on public diplomacy efforts to push an alternative narrative, whether reportedly by engaging with researchers abroad or developing its own democracy index. Modi’s speech at the Summit for Democracy will likely tend towards a more conciliatory tone, in line with a new soft power strategy to present India as a land of pluralism.

A second likely set of concerns relates to any initiatives that may seek to formalize the summit through an intergovernmental track, either through a charter or permanent secretariat. India is also bound to be skeptical about making future participation contingent on “commitments” or any type of measurable performance criteria. Delhi’s preference will be for a flexible, voluntary, and consultative model.

Finally, India may also be worried about the absence of some of its democratic neighbors at the summit, including Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Bhutan, in striking contrast to the invitation to Pakistan. There are also notable absences in other parts of Asia, where India has used values-based arguments to explain its opposition to China’s Belt and Road Initiative. With Japan and other partners, Delhi has promoted alternative connectivity initiatives driven by “norms, good governance, rule of law, openness, transparency and equality.”

India is likely to be concerned that by leaving out its fellow, imperfect democracies, it will become harder to flesh out the vision of a free and open Indo-Pacific and counter China’s growing political influence in the region. As expected, Beijing is already using the summit’s contentious invitation list to argue that democracy is a Western luxury or imposition, incompatible with Asian values, or just a U.S. strategic instrument. Such pushback may make it harder for India to participate more actively in the global democratic cooperation agenda, especially if it is led by Washington.

Ideas

Beyond immediate opportunities and concerns about the summit, the summit could play an important role for India to take on a leading role in global democratic cooperation.

Rather than the procedural and geopolitical aspects of the summit, including the rather negative agenda to counter authoritarianism and other threats, India would probably be much more enthusiastic about a positive agenda on how democracy can enhance development. Article 16 of the Sustainable Development Goals may be a good starting point for a discussion led by India on inclusive development through effective, accountable, and transparent institutions. At the 2020 anniversary ministerial of the Community of Democracies, India emphasized the “interdependence between democracy and development.”

Another area of interest relates to how new digital instruments can help reform the justice system, increase civic participation, and enhance institutional efficiency, civic participation, and responsiveness. The transformative role of technology also offers a fertile ground for cooperation in the education and health sectors, including a rights-centered agenda. India has keenly engaged other democracies on how to govern and regulate the digital domain to balance privacy, market economy, and state security interests. Modi recently called for a cooperative democratic approach to securing cryptocurrencies.

While India will continue to welcome international dialogues on improving elections management and reforming parliamentary procedures, it is also increasingly open to exchange experiences on how to counter state-financed disinformation or online radicalization. Even on human rights there may be some space for progress, as indicated in the recent revival of India’s dialogue with the European Union and willingness to enhance cooperation at the United Nations.

Finally, the summit may also propel India to play an important role to foster democratic cooperation on its own. One idea would be for the Indian government to host a Delhi Democratic Development Dialogue (4D), in line with its growing focus on South-South cooperation. Another possibility would be to revive the India-Brazil-South Africa (IBSA) inter-democratic dialogue. For Delhi, the Summit for Democracy will be an important indicator to assess whether Washington is willing to let other, non-Western democracies like India steward democratic cooperation.

      

After decades of difficult and uneven progress, democracy in Central America is experiencing its worst crisis since the militarized authoritarianism of the 1970s. Indeed, none of the presidents of Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, or Nicaragua is invited to the Biden administration’s Summit for Democracy.

Nicaragua has shown the worst slide to autocracy. Former revolutionary commander Daniel Ortega just secured a fourth six-year term as president after imprisoning no fewer than seven of his competitors and repressing street protests in recent years, with dozens killed in street protests.  Ortega has institutionalized corruption, taken over the judiciary, and persecuted critical journalists and business leaders, including many of his closest colleagues during and after the civil war.

In Guatemala, the Congress has passed laws affording its members impunity for corruption and distorted the legal process for appointing judges. Attorney General María Consuelo Porras has impeded investigations and weakened the prosecutorial unit that convicted hundreds of top officials and politicians with the help of an international anti-corruption commission that was shuttered by the last government.

In El Salvador, the party led by Nayib Bukele, the very popular young president, won control of the legislature this past May, using its first day to illegally replace the Constitutional Court and the attorney general with loyalists. President Bukele has vilified opposition figures, critical journalists, and rights groups, many of whom are being subjected to specious police searches and investigations.

The sitting president of Honduras, Juan Orlando Hernández, was in 2019 named as a co-conspirator by U.S. prosecutors in a narco-trafficking trial targeting his brother, and multiple legislators and officials have been indicted for corruption. But the country may offer a spot of hope. Opposition candidate Xiomara Castro just won the presidency and will soon take office — barring a coup like the one that ousted her husband Manuel Zelaya in 2009.

Presidents in these countries face fewer and fewer checks on their power. State oversight bodies like legislatures, criminal courts, financial audit courts, and attorneys general have increasingly fallen under the control of the executive.

International pressure has proven ineffectual in staunching authoritarian trends. The Trump administration pressured the region’s governments to crack down on emigrants. Those governments moved to mimic President Donald Trump’s behavior in the U.S.: loudly proclaiming their sovereignty, scaling back oversight of the executive, appointing loyalists who did not believe in institutions, maligning independent media, and undermining criminal investigations of corruption.

The Biden administration came in with a stronger emphasis on good governance, anti-corruption, and the rule of law than even the Obama administration. Vice President Kamala Harris (whose initial reaction to being briefed on President Hernández’s implication in drug trafficking was reportedly “Let’s go get him now”) has delivered strong messages in support of clean governance and anti-corruption. The Biden administration has seized assets from some of the region’s corrupt officials and placed others on the “Engel list” to deny them visas.  It redirected funding away from the attorney general’s offices in Guatemala and El Salvador after unfavorable personnel changes.

The Biden administration and European donors have strategically pivoted to emphasize strengthening civil society and independent voices like journalists. Yet such efforts take years to bear fruit. Moreover, Nicaragua, Guatemala, and El Salvador have moved to pass laws aimed at intimidating and muzzling critical voices and independent sources of reporting.

One new direction to consider is the strengthening of regional platforms for independent voices and accountability. For instance, regional coalitions of non-governmental organizations could provide political cover and financial mechanisms for NGO work. Many NGOs are looking ahead to a day when they may have to operate from outside the country for their own safety. Regional coalitions or organizations could permit them to operate from neighboring countries.

In addition, donors could press the recalcitrant governments of the region to accept verification of legal processes by reputable regional bodies. The Inter-American Human Rights Commission, for example, could establish a regional body comprising retired officials with reputations for integrity to certify that national laws and regulations have been followed in proposing candidates for key judicial and top prosecutorial posts. International financial institutions like the Inter-American Development Bank could condition their lending and grant-making on the findings of such bodies. They could also condition support on independent national institutions exercising effective oversight and accountability, including non-governmental scrutiny.

International actors could also work more actively with the diaspora. Since people residing abroad do not face politicized police or judicial action in their native countries, they can exercise freedoms of expression and assembly from their new homes. Their voices in social media could help counter government propaganda and defend democratic practices and rights.

A more ambitious response would be to withhold bilateral funding and financing from international institutions in exchange for specific enhancements in transparency and accountability.  It seems reasonable that taxpayers who fund multilateral loans and grants should expect effective oversight bodies and independent courts and attorneys general.  Such approaches would show that the international community was serious about fighting autocratic trends in Central America — placing this priority on a par with deterring Central Americans from emigrating.

      

With surprising applications from the United Kingdom, China, and Taiwan, the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP) has moved to the center stage of East Asian geopolitics. But why is South Korea — long expected to be the first new member of the CPTPP — still missing from this list?

The case for South Korean membership was already strong in 2013 when Seoul first considered joining the Trans-Pacific Partnership, the predecessor of the CPTPP. South Korea’s achievements in technology and trade, its prominent role in global supply chains and prior negotiations, including a bilateral agreement with U.S., made it a natural candidate.

So it was not surprising that President Moon Jae-in used his 2021 New Year’s address to express, once again, South Korea’s interest in joining the CPTPP, and that Trade Minister Yeo Han-koo later added, “I think we are ready.”

But progress has apparently stalled since then, perhaps due to the politics of South Korea-Japan trade tensions. South Korea’s two largest political parties now support CPTPP membership but have no appetite for risk with elections looming in March 2022. Unfortunately, similar logic has held up South Korean participation for many years, but the case for joining the CPTPP keeps getting stronger.

First, the CPTPP would offer South Korea meaningful economic benefits. It is a high-standard, comprehensive agreement that will eliminate most tariffs on trade, liberalize hard-to-reach non-tariff barriers and create modern rules for digital trade, state-owned enterprises, intellectual property, and other areas. These rules are especially important in a fraying global trading system.

In a recent paper, we estimated significant gains from South Korean membership in a gradually expanding CPTPP. If South Korea stays out, it will lose some $3 billion annually in national income by 2030 due to trade diversion to countries inside the bloc. If it joins, it will gain $86 billion annually, becoming one of the agreement’s biggest beneficiaries.

The reason for these estimated gains is that the CPTPP would strengthen South Korea’s already central role in Asian and North American supply chains by lowering tariffs and non-tariff barriers with Japan, Malaysia, Mexico, Vietnam, and others.

Second, the benefits of South Korean membership would multiply as the CPTPP admits new members. Interest from numerous suitors offers the CPTPP good options. We estimate that members’ gains would triple with the addition of five middle-sized regional partners and quadruple if China or the United States were to join.

Third, in addition to these direct benefits, the CPTPP would strengthen South Korea’s hand in its asymmetric and sometimes contentious relations with three large partners, China, Japan, and the U.S.

The China-U.S. trade war has not directly hurt South Korea so far. It may even have shifted markets from Chinese to South Korean producers. But it is dangerous. South Korea depends on China and the U.S. for nearly half of its trade, access to materials and technology, and national security.

No international framework can fully insulate South Korea from such political pressures, but coalitions of middle powers offer leverage, especially in handling Chinese or U.S. membership in the CPTPP. For example, these countries can be much more forceful in challenging the political manipulation of trade together rather than individually.

The CPTPP could also ease South Korea-Japan trade tensions by moving difficult issues into a multilateral framework. Solutions that neither side wants to accept unilaterally — say, with respect to Japanese export controls and South Korean controls on fish imports — could simply become conditions of joint membership in the CPTPP.

Japanese policymakers will recognize these effects as gaiatsu, the use of international pressure to contain parochial opposition to beneficial policies. Just as international rules can encourage domestic reforms, so they can also defuse international economic tensions.

Finally, the U.S. is also debating, albeit well below the political radar, joining CPTPP. If South Korea were already in the CPTPP, U.S. entry would be much to its advantage. In fact, South Korean membership might encourage Washington to join. And if America reenters, it will ask for plenty of changes in the agreement and South Korea will want to be at the negotiating table.

Overall, an expanding CPTPP will strengthen trading relationships among South Korea’s principal economic partners. It makes good sense to support this process. South Korea has already begun to ratify another pillar of the regional framework, the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), covering 15 East Asian economies.

The CPTPP and RCEP are complementary. They have seven common members and broadly similar architectures. They differ in ambition, but in time many RCEP economies will likely “upgrade” to the CPTPP.

But now the window is closing on South Korea’s leverage. If the CPTPP does expand before South Korea joins, South Korea’s potential benefits may grow, but its unique bargaining power will diminish, making it more costly to negotiate entry.

South Korea has already lost some influence over the region’s early responses to new CPTPP applicants. Meanwhile, South Korea’s entry has become more complicated, as it would now have to juggle negotiations with members who want China to join and those who do not.

Time is of the essence. South Korea has good reasons to join the CPTPP and good relations with most of its members. But it also has sensitive sectors that will become more vulnerable as membership grows. Best to join now when costs are low and potential gains are high.

      

As 2021 draws to a close — the first year of the Biden administration, and second year of the COVID-19 pandemic — there are no shortage of questions about the future of international order, foreign policy, and American democracy. But a slew of insightful books from Brookings Foreign Policy experts published this year can help us better understand where we stand and where we may be headed.

A number of those books focus on China’s rise and evolution as a global actor, the increasingly fraught relationship between China and the United States, and the implications of both. “Global China: Assessing China’s Growing Role in the World,” edited by Tarun Chhabra, Rush Doshi, Ryan Hass, and Emilie Kimball, features the analysis of dozens of scholars from Brookings and beyond on how China is shaping great power relations, critical technologies, Asian security, key regions beyond Asia, and global governance and norms. In “Stronger: Adapting America’s China Strategy in an Age of Competitive Interdependence,” Hass writes that while competition will define the U.S.-China relationship, coordination on common challenges will remain vital. He urges that Washington will have greater success competing economically and on governance if it focuses more on improving conditions at home than on trying to impede Beijing’s initiatives. In “The Long Game: China’s Grand Strategy to Displace American Order,” Doshi — who, along with Chhabra, is now serving on the staff of the National Security Council — draws on Chinese Communist Party documents to argue that China has pursued strategies to displace American order and replace it with Chinese order regionally and now globally.

Meanwhile, Cheng Li’s “Middle Class Shanghai: Reshaping U.S.-China Engagement” makes the case that the U.S. should not lose sight of the dynamism and diversity inside modern China, and that the  rising middle class and cosmopolitan culture exemplified by Li’s native city of Shanghai could provide an avenue for engagement and exchanges. In “China’s Youth: Increasing Diversity amid Persistent Inequality,” from the John L. Thornton China Center’s Chinese Thinker Series and with an introduction from Cheng Li, Chinese sociologist Li Chunling provides a native perspective on the values, behaviors, and lifestyles of the diverse generation born between the 1980s and mid-1990s, who at some point will assume leadership of the country.

Brookings experts also narrow in on other parts of Asia, shedding light on pertinent issues set to shape the future of the region. “Rivalry and Response: Assessing Great Power Dynamics in Southeast Asia,” edited by Jonathan Stromseth, explores competition between the U.S. and China in the strategic landscape of Southeast Asia. A key finding of the volume is that U.S. policy has become too concentrated on defense and security, neglecting many countries’ immediate economic development priorities. In “Difficult Choices: Taiwan’s Quest for Security and the Good Life,” Richard C. Bush details the growing internal and external pressures Taiwan faces and offers suggestions for what Taiwan can do to help itself and what the U.S. should do to improve Taiwan’s chances of success. And in “State, Society and Markets in North Korea,” Andrew Yeo evaluates changes in North Korea’s society and economy, revealing how the country manages to teeter forward within the deeply authoritarian context of Kim Jong Un’s rule and what may lie ahead.

Competition between China and the United States is also an important part of the story of the COVID-19 pandemic and its global consequences, as Thomas Wright and Colin Kahl relate in “Aftershocks: Pandemic Politics and the End of the Old International Order.” In their first draft of history, Wright and Kahl — who is now serving as U.S. under secretary of defense for policy — detail the breakdown of international cooperation and examine the responses to and fallout from the pandemic across a wide range of countries. They conclude with recommendations on how to reinvigorate the international order and prepare for the next pandemic. Bruce Jones’s “To Rule the Waves: How Control of the World’s Oceans Shapes the Fate of the Superpowers” focuses on the critical role of the seas in globalization, information and energy flows, and national power, taking the reader from gigantic containerized cargo vessels to vast ports and vital naval bases. Jones argues that the oceans are rapidly becoming the most important zone of contestation between the world’s great military actors. “The Uses and Abuses of Weaponized Interdependence,” edited by Daniel W. Drezner, Henry Farrell, and Abraham L. Newman, examines the vulnerabilities of 21st century great power interdependence to challenge scholars and practitioners to think differently about foreign economic policy, national security, and statecraft.

America’s national security strategy and its military are the focus of several books by Brookings experts this year. In “The Art of War: U.S. Grand Strategy and Resolute Restraint,” Michael E. O’Hanlon highlights the lack of a U.S. grand strategy since the Cold War and lays out a vision for a new one. He proposes that the Pentagon complement its “4+1” set of threats — Russia, China, Iran, North Korea, and terrorism — with an additional “4+1” — biological, nuclear, digital, climatic, and internal dangers. O’Hanlon also published “Defense 101: Understanding the Military of Today and Tomorrow,” a concise primer on the U.S. military focused on four critical areas: defense budgeting and resource allocation, gaming and modeling combat, technological change and military innovation, and the science of war. In “The Inheritance: America’s Military After Two Decades of War,” Mara Karlin — now serving at the Pentagon, performing the duties of deputy under secretary of defense for policy — dissects how two decades of war in Iraq and Afghanistan have influenced the U.S. military, those who serve in it, and civil-military relations.

In the aftermath of Donald Trump’s presidency and the January 6 assault on the U.S. Capitol during the count of Electoral College ballots that formalized Joe Biden’s victory, two Brookings experts offer personal accounts highlighting the perilous state of American society and democracy. Fiona Hill’s “There Is Nothing For You Here: Finding Opportunity in the Twenty-First Century,” is a memoir of the author’s journey from growing up in poverty in the deindustrialized North East of England to her experience serving on the Trump administration’s National Security Council and testifying as a fact witness in Trump’s first impeachment trial. Hill draws parallels between lack of opportunity and populist politics in her native U.K., Russia – the country she has focused on professionally – and in the U.S., her adopted home. Hill warns that the America is on the brink of a socioeconomic collapse and authoritarian swing that could rival that of Russia under President Vladimir Putin.

In “Wildland: The Making of America’s Fury,” Evan Osnos returns to the U.S. after a decade abroad in China and the Middle East as a foreign correspondent to find rule of law, the power of truth, and the right of equal opportunity for all under assault at home. Focusing on three communities in which he has lived — Greenwich, Connecticut; Clarksburg, West Virginia; and Chicago, Illinois — Osnos traces the sources of America’s political dissolution through the lives of ordinary individuals.

While Osnos comes home and finds a vital story in today’s United States, in “Assignment Russia: Becoming a Foreign Correspondent in the Crucible of the Cold War,” the second volume of Marvin Kalb’s memoirs, Kalb is chosen by Edward R. Murrow to be CBS News’s man in Moscow at the height of the Cold War, returning to where he’d served as a young diplomatic attaché at the U.S. Embassy. Kalb provides a thrilling eyewitness account of tensions between Eisenhower’s U.S. and Khrushchev’s Soviet Union, and looks back on the beginning of a legendary career in journalism at the dawn of broadcast news.

Finally, in “Jordan and America: A Enduring Friendship,” Bruce Riedel tells the story of one of the most important bilateral relationships in the Middle East. He describes how leaders from Jordan and the United States have navigated multiple crises in one of the most volatile regions in the world, from his unique vantage point as a former Central Intelligence Agency, White House, and Pentagon official who played an important role in building that relationship. In “Tribalism and Political Power in the Gulf: State-Building and National Identity in Kuwait, Qatar and the UAE,” Courtney Freer and Alanoud al-Sharekh examine the political role of tribes in those Gulf societies and the degree to which tribes hinder or advance popular participation in government. And in “The European Union and the Gulf Cooperation Council: Towards a New Path,” co-editors Adel Abdel Ghafar and Silvia Colombo and other scholars assess the relationship between the two important regional blocs and their member states.

      

Haiti has experienced decades of insecurity and political instability, but 2021 has been alarming. The October kidnapping of 17 American and Canadian missionaries and their Haitian driver is the highest-profile example of skyrocketing kidnappings that have affected some 782 people this year, 30% of them since September 1. These kidnappings extend to busloads of people being snatched for ransom. Average people fear for their safety, and the state has shown itself impotent in the face of over 90 gangs that compete for resources and territory.

These gangs have become quasi-warlords, controlling some 60% of the country’s territory and abetting drug trafficking. The July assassination of President Jovenel Moïse deepened a security and political crisis that had worsened since the departure of United Nations troops in 2017. Recent months have shown the strength of gangs, as the G9 gang coalition imposed a month-long fuel blockade that brought the capital to a standstill. The blockade, eased on November 12, impeded food deliveries in this desperately poor country.

The U.S. and other international actors have an interest in responding to the humanitarian crisis and its regional migratory and security consequences. The immediate priority is restoring security to the country and providing a foundation for stable governance with reduced corruption.

The current U.S. approach to the crisis has centered on only two options: either sending U.S. military forces or letting Haitians sort things out themselves. Deploying U.S. forces unilaterally is not realistic. The Biden administration has ruled out such a deployment despite Haiti’s request after the assassination of Moïse. Its prevailing answer seems to be to let Haitians manage themselves out of the crisis.

But doing nothing is increasingly not an option. Political parties have relied upon some gangs and permitted rampant impunity, illustrating the depth of corruption of the current system.

The most sensible path forward for international actors is to authorize an expanded U.N. operation to include a small military component but modify it to overcome past limitations. The 13-year U.N. Stabilisation Mission in Haiti (MINUSTAH) successfully tackled some of the security problems besieging the country today. Before and after a coup ousted elected President Jean-Bertrand Aristide in 2004, gangs exercised considerable territorial control in Port-au-Prince, especially its largest slums. The U.N. mission launched well-planned operations into these huge neighborhoods, capturing or killing several gang leaders and enabling weak government forces to reestablish control.

A U.S. Institute of Peace study attributed the “resounding success” of these operations to the effort by the Brazilian military forces, working with various U.N. police units, to use the force necessary to clear neighborhoods of gang leaders. Brazilian troops conducted foot patrols, engaged with community leaders and members on the street, and developed extensive intelligence networks that were unprecedented at the time for U.N. peacekeeping. In a 2007 poll, 67% of respondents in Haiti credited the U.N. with improved security.

A key objection to deploying international troops to Haiti today is that neither prior U.S.-led multinational forces nor prior U.N. missions left behind sustainable systems of justice and security. What is to prevent a new U.N. mission from being an expensive stopgap that results in another period of crisis and violence upon its withdrawal?

Several measures could ensure that a new U.N. mission would contribute to sustainable stability in Haiti. First off, the troops deployed would need to adopt the same approach of earlier Brazilian deployments in using sufficient force and working closely with the population to dismantle criminal gangs. More importantly, international civilians would need to have more power to certify Haitian judges, prosecutors, and police officials to vet out the corrupt and abusive ones. Past programs of training and advice simply empowered corrupt officials left in place. Support for restoring a strong, independent Inspector-General’s office for the Haitian National Police should be a priority to ensure that newly vetted police officers do not engage in abuses, gang association, or drug trafficking.

The U.N. should draw on recent hybrid models of national/international missions, such as the U.N.-backed International Commission against Impunity in Guatemala, to work side-by-side with vetted Haitian prosecutors and investigators to prepare cases. A specialized, vetted prosecutorial unit could try these cases in anti-corruption Haitian courts with vetted judges, as occurred in Guatemala and Honduras with positive results.

Prior international efforts have missed a key point: the importance of getting a political settlement among the invested elites. Instead, the U.S. and its allies have looked excessively to elections to settle political differences, then deferred to elected leaders who subsequently plunder the state, form illicit gangs, and distort democracy to cement their power.

In recent months, Haitian civil society organizations have formed a platform charting an inclusive, sustainable political dialogue and process to get beyond the divisions among the prevailing political parties. This platform’s proposals of an inclusive, interim government could break the long pattern of exclusion and division by Haiti’s elites. The U.S. and other international actors should back this opportunity to construct a new political foundation.

Finally, past U.N. missions became vectors for the transmission of disease — over 10,000 Haitians died of cholera inadvertently introduced by Nepalese soldiers — and instances of sexual abuse and exploitation. The U.N. and its troop-contributing countries must prevent such incidents and hold accountable their soldiers and civilians.

Haitians unfortunately need international support at this time. A new U.N. mission is imperative. But it must be strengthened in ways that support civil society’s aspirations and will have a positive and sustainable impact on Haiti’s stability and institutions.