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The problems with calculating influence: the story of the Belt and Road Initiative

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By Katherine Nichols

 

Image Credit: Illustration by Andrew Rae in ‘What the World’s Emptiest International Airport Says
About China’s Influence’, New York Times, 13 September 2017.

 

‘Unfavorable views of China reach historic highs in many countries’ reported Pew Research Center in October. On top of pandemic backlash, many people are realizing that China’s rise and subsequent diplomatic initiatives are not as benign as they once appeared. But if the overwhelming majority of people view China in a negative light, why are governments so worried about Chinese influence?

China’s foreign policy strategy is a clear example of sharp power influence — ‘efforts that pierce, penetrate, or perforate the political and information environments in target countries’. President Xi Jinping’s outreach framework, the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), hinges on a collection of investment and development projects stretching from East Asia to Europe. Through Wolf-Warrior aggressive diplomacy, however, China exerts more influence than just economic power. The intensive investment projects of BRI bought China leverage at the international scale, creating risks for the West in both national security as well as protection of democratic values.

The malign influence captured by sharp power is increasingly the modus operandi of 21st century geopolitics, but researchers have yet to decide how to make sense of it. East Asia experts and policy-makers in the West are scrambling to understand the intentions and methods of China’s global influence. The BRI is a prime example to demonstrate the various types of influence and explain why many questions remain.

The Brand: Measurement of Effect

When President Xi coined BRI in 2013, he essentially launched the branding for China’s foreign policy, drawing on inspiration from the concept of the ancient Silk Road. If we think of the BRI as a marketing tactic, much like the UK’s new Global Britain, we can use the same techniques that are applied to calculate the effectiveness of marketing campaigns to measure the influence of this foreign policy brand. Namely, we can quantify how many people were exposed and are now aware of, or better yet, understand the BRI. We can take polls to see how public perception of China and its foreign policy has changed, or look at whether countries have changed their actions in relation to China by increasing business deals through the BRI, for instance.

What researchers can’t tell you with certainty yet is whether those changes in action are a direct result of BRI. This is a deciding factor in assessing the effectiveness of an influence campaign.

Researchers such as Gary Buck recognize the importance of this question. Buck designed four-stages of Measurement of Effect, and is working on a fifth – Measurement of Context — to help us accurately discern whether influence campaigns actually have an effect. But as it stands now, any numerical descriptions for how much an influence campaign has changed the population’s behaviour is likely a ‘best guess’.

The Tools: Learning What Influences

BRI demonstrates that any word, image, action or non-action, speech, diplomatic agreement, or economic investment can be used to influence global audiences. Public and cultural diplomacy (literature, film, religion, sport, music, etc.) is usually what people think of in terms of building up a country’s brand internationally. BRI does indeed have a large cultural aspect — such as this drama series following a father-son duo promoting BRI through dance or this pop music video described as ‘Tswift meets state propaganda’— but the real nuts and bolts of BRI lie in its economic strategy.

With BRI, President Xi wasn’t just selling a brand, he was buying it. China began investing in international businesses and organisations. China’s annual foreign direct investment in the EU surged from $840 million in 2008 to $42 billion in 2017 and investment in Africa skyrocketed from $75 million in 2003 to $5.4 billion in 2018. The investments took the form of business acquisitions, infrastructure construction, and aid development projects.

Researchers can tell you for certain that China is attempting to gain global influence via economic investment. What they can’t tell you is how much influence a trade deal buys. How do you quantify the effects of a diplomatic negotiation on the attitudes and behaviours of the general public? Moreover, some of these more tangible tools of influence, like building telecoms infrastructure, have long-term, iterative effects. Researchers still lack a method to calculate influence over time.

The Intent: Language of Influence

It wasn’t long after the investment surge that the West started to realise that BRI may not be benign. China was ‘laying a debt trap’ for governments seeking to borrow investments. Developing countries more dependent on the investments from China began openly supporting China’s way of governance. In one instance, the leader of Kenya’s ruling party spoke in support of modeling his party off of China’s Communist Party. In another, thirty-seven countries signed a letter defending China’s massive detention of Uighur Muslims in Xinjiang in response to a letter from twenty-two countries condemning China’s actions. In effect, China was buying support for their value-based initiatives, most of which are problematic for the West.

When countries not as dependent on Chinese investments condemned China’s human rights record, China publicly threatened their government leaders and baited ending the economic relationship — the tactics of so-called Wolf-Warrior diplomacy. China repeatedly claimed that they were not exporting a ‘China model’ of governance, despite all appearances of just that. Most recently, however, President Xi confirmed the suspicions of international relations analysts: China’s goal was not only to grow more independent, but also to increase other countries’ dependence on China.

The other major hurdle in assessing BRI is one that blocks the track to analysing influence more generally. There is not yet a universal vocabulary with which to discuss the strategies deployed. What do we call the BRI — influence operation? Malign influence? Propaganda? There is no lingua franca of influence. Even the terms we do have definitions for, such as propaganda and influence operation, are often avoided by governments and scholars because of their negative connotations and subjectivity. There are diplomatic repercussions for accusing a country of meddling in domestic affairs, influence operations are neither inherently good nor bad, and can’t one country’s public diplomacy be another’s propaganda?

Calculating Influence

From my observations, there are three steps that researchers and policy-makers can take to more accurately identify, label, and calculate influence.

1) Agree on the terms. We can lean on existing glossaries and books that tackle the nuanced vocabulary of influence side by side. Consistency is key for public understanding, international cooperation and expert analysis of this new, complex security threat.

2) Continue committing resources to Measurement of Effect (MoE). Gary Buck, the expert previously mentioned, once likened the MoE phenomenon to that of driving the speed limit — publicly most people think it’s a good thing to do, but nobody really does it. Buck offers a system of MoE that tests early and often, taking measurements at the four key objectives of influence campaigns: message exposure, knowledge transfer, attitudinal shift, and behavioural change. It’s a strong start toward accurately analysing sharp power with considerable room for growth.

3) Accept that we cannot quantify everything. Grand strategic communications campaigns, such as BRI, are a different beast than short-term influence efforts (e.g. election campaigns). With tools ranging from press statements to business acquisitions, it may not be possible to quantify how much influence each has on global populations. When the amount of influence is incalculable, we should devote more effort to studying the manner of influence. We can use tools such as the Taxonomy of Influence Strategies to provide a language for influence manner and generate influence profiles (e.g. level of risk, cooperation, and agitation). By understanding how a country influences, we can better understand how to respond.

There are multiple hurdles facing influence measurement, but we cannot manage what we cannot measure. It’s time we face the elephant in the room and start driving the speed limit.

 

Katherine recently completed her MA in Strategic Communications from the Department of War Studies, King’s College London. Her research focuses on the arts of influence and diplomacy. You can find her on Twitter @kat_nichols_

Strife Series on Human Rights, Security, and Diplomacy in the Asia Pacific - Introduction

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by Anna Tan

(Image Credit: Shannon Stapleton/Reuters)

 

Editorial

In recent years, the world has seen a rising number of civil protests and movements globally. The eruption of the Hong Kong crisis in mid-2019, where mainstream political dialogues reached a new level of fixation on the increasingly looming authoritarian power of China that pervades well beyond its mainland territories, shook many of us. The rise of China has been overwhelmingly redefining the overall regional security of the Asia Pacific, and how that development influences the shift in the nature of international relations is undoubtedly dependent on the alliance of the Asian countries with the West, especially with the United States.

Reflecting on Müllerson’s theory on the relationship of intrastate human rights and international security[1}, it is indisputable that China under Xi Jinping’s Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is a very strong authoritarian state, and its overtly aggressive policies against Hong Kong’s mass civil resistance not just made headlines for an incredibly sustained period of time throughout the year, but also threatens the international stability by means of possible similar aggressions. It threatens liberal democratic values that are upheld by many free and democratic nations from across the world, especially in a time where American influence has been on a rapid decline since the assumption of the Trump administration. In the Asia Pacific, while nations such as Hong Kong, Taiwan and South Korea face new challenges in manoeuvring through the changing dynamics of international security now jeopardised by the “America first” policy of the United States, other countries such as Myanmar welcome the rising Chinese hegemony. Why and how does this happen?

This Strife Series explores the interplay between human rights and security through diplomatic exchanges in the Asia Pacific. The series analyses how in some countries, addressing human rights, democratic freedom and maintaining status quo national and/or regional security seem to be mutually exclusive at times instead of being mutually reinforcing, despite sharing the common factor of China’s domineering economic leverage.

Publications:

In the first article (12/2019) “China’s Turbulent Year: 2019”, Professor Kerry Brown analyses how China’s aggression in response to the Hong Kong protests and its draconian policies to the Uighur population in Xinjiang have both comparable ‘tit-for-tat’ elements that the Chinese leadership may not have thought through carefully, but will have detrimental consequences to the international opinion on China’s usually very cautious and deliberate efforts on maintaining its diplomatic image.

In the second article (01/2020) “China, Myanmar, War Crimes and the Issue of National Sovereignty”, Anna Tan looks at how Myanmar under Aung San Suu Kyi’s leadership, has strangely shifted from being a Western ally during the landmark victories of the National League for Democracy (NLD) in the 2015 elections to an even stronger adherence to China’s orbit than ever before. She describes how the Sino-Burmese relations have evolved dramatically under the light of the Rohingya conflict in Rakhine and Myanmar’s subsequent genocide trial at the International Court of Justice (ICJ).

The third article (03/2020) “Taiwan Elections: Continuity, Change and the Cross-Strait Conundrum”, Evita Liagka explores what the victories of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) under the leadership of Tsai Ing-wen could mean for the future of Taiwan and its cross-strait relations. She points out that the China-Hong Kong crisis came in a convenient timing for DPP’s mobilisation of garnering greater support than ever before and since the public consensus on maintaining the status quo international diplomatic status of Taiwan has remained largely unchanged, we might not see a drastic shift in DPP’s policies from its previous term. However, KMT’s recent decision to swerve away from its pro-China stances might pose newer challenges for Taiwan in the years ahead.

The final articles are contributed by Yeseul Woo, analysing North Asia’s security issues from the perspective of South Korea.

  • In Part 1 (02/2020) “South Korea’s Dangerous Silence on Human Rights Abuses in North Korea”, Yeseul Woo argues why the US lack of sponsorship in the UN Security Council meeting on the discussion of North Korea’s human rights issues should not mean that South Korea should remain silent. Ms Woo explains why, in fact, South Korea’s silence justified by the importance of the nuclear security framework would actually be counterproductive in regional security in the long run.
  • In Part 2 (03/2020) “The First Tech War? Why the Korea-Japan Tensions are about US-China Competition on AI”, Ms Woo further explains that South Korea’s silence on North Korea’s human rights issues for the sake of North Asia’s nuclear security (described in Part 1) is actually the result of the deterioration of Korea-Japan relations which has led to South Korea withdrawing from the GSOMIA pact. Though Seoul retracted its decision last minute, Ms Woo argues that the tensions between Seoul and Tokyo are less about the debate surrounding comfort women and wartime forced labour, and is actually influenced by the US-China competition on Artificial Intelligence (AI) in nuclear surveillance technology.
  1. Müllerson, R. (1997). “Human Rights Diplomacy.” Routledge.

Anna Tan is a postgraduate student for MSc Global Affairs at King’s College London. Her research is focused on how Western human rights diplomacy affects democracy and authoritarianism in Asia Pacific. She has previously worked for UNDP Myanmar and the American Red Cross, and is a member of the Programme Committee of the Conflict, Security and Development (CSD) Conference 2020 hosted by the Department of War Studies and the Department of International Development (DID). Anna holds a BSc in Neuroscience. You can follow her on Twitter: @AnnaTanGTW.

 

Feature - The Nuclear Dimension: Pathways of Proliferation and Failings in Qadhafi’s Libya

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Colonel Muhammar al-Qadhafi, Leader of the Libyan Jamahiriya from 1969 until 2011 (Image credit: Wikimedia)

The Libyan nuclear weapons program started in the 1970s and lasted for thirty years. The acquisition of nuclear capabilities was sustained by the country’s oil wealth and by December 2003, Libya “had succeeded in procuring from abroad most of the technical pieces of the nuclear-weapon jigsaw”.[1] Colonel Muʿammar al-Qhadafi, however, never got the Bomb, proving that money and the black market are not enough to go nuclear militarily.[2] In March 2003, a few weeks before the Iraq War, Musa Kusa, then head of the Libyan Foreign Intelligence (Mukhabarat al-Jamahiriya), contacted the British Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) to start talks aimed at dismantling the program in return for removing sanctions. After having examined the key drivers behind the program and how Libya proliferated, this post will assess the scale of the threat that the Libyan nuclear programme posed to the international system and how and why a potentially successful project failed.

The Colonel’s Nuclear Ambitions: Deterrence, Security, and Prestige

Libya’s position regarding the nuclear issue was characterised by ambiguity and duplicity from the start. In July 1968, the Kingdom of Libya signed the Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) but it was not ratified until years later, in May 1975; and only because of pressure from the Soviet Union. Qadhafi’s statements against the production of nuclear weapons were oftentimes disavowed by fierce appeal to the desirability of an “Arab bomb” to deter Israel.

Qadhafi’s key drivers for a military nuclear program were: security, deterrence, and prestige. Initially, deterrence from outside intervention relied primarily on the building of a conventional apparatus and the targeted neutralisation of dissidents abroad. The outcome was counterproductive: the Colonel spent billions accumulating the greatest arsenal of Africa but it remained almost useless due to the lack of skilled manpower. Meanwhile, the killing of people abroad and financial support for terrorism made him a public enemy for the West.[3] Furthermore, political and economic support for the Palestinians put the Colonel in the crosshairs of Israel as well.

Consequently, the parallel non-conventional weapons programme assumed over time a more relevant role as security insurance for regime survival, but it also triggered a race against the clock since Tel Aviv had already demonstrated its willingness to use preemptive strikes. Indeed, the 1981 bombing of Saddam Hussein’s Osiraq reactor, as well as the 1985 attack against the PLO headquarters outside Tunis, had a great impact on Qadhafi’s mind.[4] Following the US strike on Tripoli one year later, the regime became seriously concerned that a similar attack could occur in the future and decided to speed up the military nuclear programme.[5]

Security for regime survival and deterrence against Israel and the West matched the Colonel’s eagerness for the spotlight and desire to bolster his image and prestige in the Middle East, seeking to promote himself as the defender of the Arab masses in the face of Israel. Therefore, going nuclear militarily was perceived also as a means towards this end. To sum things up, security insurance for regime survival, deterrence against Israel and the West, and personal prestige were the main drivers of Libya’s nuclear programme.

Pathways of Proliferation: From International Assistance to the A.Q. Khan network

Nuclear proliferation in Libya came through three different periods of research and supply, running from the early 1970s to late 2003. The first period, from 1970 to 1981, encompasses Libya’s efforts to build a civilian program but also to start a parallel nuclear military procurement. Broadly speaking, these attempts were slowed down by a general respect for non-proliferation in relation to Libya, and that was due more to the mistrust of the main suppliers towards Qadhafi, rather than to a sincere adhesion to the NPT regime by the Libyan leader.[6]

The failure to get tactical nuclear weapons in 1970 from Beijing proved to the regime that an “off-the-shelf” weapons procurement was unlikely to succeed. Therefore, Libya decided to seek assistance for a civilian programme and to secretly divert that technology for military purposes, starting a simultaneously multi-track procurement. In so doing, the regime approached Argentina, Egypt, the US, India, and France.[7] Paris halted the acquisition both of a nuclear power reactor and of twenty calutrons, while New Delhi soon stopped cooperating due to growing concerns about Qadhafi’s ties with Ali Bhutto’s Pakistan. [8]

These failures pushed Libya towards the Soviet Union and from the mid-1970s, Moscow became the main source of nuclear assistance to the Colonel.[9] The Tajura Nuclear Research Facility (TNRF) became the centre both of peaceful research and illegal uranium conversion experiments. At the same time, the regime sought to procure a stockpile of uranium but the absence of exploitable deposits prompted it to seek external sources. Some have speculated that the invasion of the Aouzou Strip in 1973 was partly related also to the hope of seizing uranium deposits.[10] According to the IAEA, in the end, Libya did succeed in acquiring yellowcake (a type of uranium concentrate powder) from Niger between 1978 and 1981.[11]

The second period lasted from 1981 to the mid-1990s, and it was characterised by attempts to acquire the fissile material required for weapons based on both plutonium and uranium enrichment. The plutonium route came to nothing. Experiments conducted at Tajura allowed the regime to separate a very small amount of plutonium.[12] The regime then pressed the Soviets for the building of a light-water reactor in Sirte. The deal never went beyond the development stage, apparently because of proliferation concerns influenced by Mikhail Gorbachev’s new foreign policy.[13]

Dissatisfied with Moscow, and worried by the safety of the Soviet-reactors after the 1986 Chernobyl accident, Qadhafi sought assistance in Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, while initiating discussions with Belgonucleaire, a Belgian company specialised in reprocessing nuclear materials. The talks were halted under US pressure.[14] Despite these setbacks, Libya kept looking for fissile materials. The regime started to seek Uranium Conversion Facilities (UCF) “no later than 1981” but no uranium hexafluoride (UF6) was ever produced.[15] Moreover, between 1983 and 1989, Libya held experiments to acquire experience in the dissolution and purification of yellowcake. In short, in this period Libya violated every single article of the NPT Safeguards Agreement but achieved very little in terms of becoming a nuclear power.

The third period, from 1995 to 2003, saw the rebirth of the program, especially in the enrichment field, thanks to the A.Q. Khan network.[16] Libya contacted Khan for the first time in 1997 and acquired from his syndicate centrifuges, UF6, and nuclear weapon designs. Contacts started in 1997 with a series of meetings in Istanbul between Libyan intelligence, Khan himself and his associate, Abu Tahir.[17] Further meetings were held in Dubai and Casablanca between 1998 and 2002. Those locations reflected the transnational nature of the network and its complexities since it involved nuclear specialists, middlemen, and unaware supplier companies.[18] Countries with weak export-controls such as Malaysia and UAE became the terminal for shipments to Libya and other countries such as Iran and North Korea. Sensitive components were assembled thanks to dual-use materials exported from Europe.[19] Shipments to Libya were specifically made possible thanks to a Malaysian company, Scomi Precision Engineering (ScoPE).[20]

Not only did Qadhafi buy centrifuge-related technology from A.Q. Khan, Libya also received gas handling and heat-treating materials, mass spectrometers, and perhaps even unemployed nuclear scientists from South-Africa.[21] The network sold to Libya two types of centrifuges as well: L-1 and L-2. The former incorporates aluminum rotors while the latter includes maraging steel rotors. Both designs were probably stolen by Khan while he was working for the URENCO consortium. In addition, the procurement included systems for process gas feeding as well as frequency converters for a total amount of more than 20 complete L-1 centrifuges.[22]

By April 2002, several machine cascades were either set up or ready for installation. However, two “demonstration models” sent by Khan were not in workable conditions.[23] Despite all the expenses, by the late 1990s and early 2000s Libya had still failed to produce UF6. In time, they would ask the Khan network to procure some, providing Libya with 1.7 tons of Low Enriched Uranium (LEU, enriched to around 1% U235) and some natural and depleted uranium. These contacts also came with designs and blueprints relating to nuclear weapons manufacturing. However, the projects came from an old 1960s-era Chinese design and one drawing was even missing a key part.[24]

Explaining the Failures and Assessing the Threat

When Musa Kusa contacted British SIS in mid-March 2003, Libya had by now procured most of the technology needed for a weapon but, despite the efforts and millions of dollars spent, Qadhafi had not stockpiled a single nuclear warhead. No threshold had been reached. In her work on the Iraqi and Libyan nuclear programs, scholar Målfrid Braut-Hegghammer noticed that in 1991 Saddam Hussein was on the threshold of a breakthrough towards the bomb. Then came the Gulf War and everything halted. But Iraq did better than Libya anyway, even if the Colonel had more money, more time, and access to the black market.

Hegghamer argues that in both cases what prevented the two from getting the bomb was a lack of “prioritization” and “State-capacity,” or the professionalism of this state apparatus.[25] Both Saddam and Qadhafi weakened their states to maximise their personal hold on power. In so doing, the strongmen endangered their respective countries’ ability to launch, plan, and micromanage some complex technical projects such as a military nuclear program. However, they went about weakening Iraq and Libya in different ways: Saddam created a bloated state with competing agencies, leaders, wrapped in paranoia, emulating Stalin’s Soviet Union; Qadhafi almost dismantled the State entirely, only the informal dimension of power worked. Consequently, Saddam had a bigger toolbox to fix his WMD program.[26]

The Tajura Nuclear Research Facility Centre (TNRF) in Tripoli, Libya (Image Credit: Global Security)

In Libya, any kind of success was a remote prospect. Every initiative fell apart because of the lack of organisational resources. When Colonel Qadhafi launched his Cultural Revolution in 1973, the nuclear and chemical weapons programs were shielded from the Revolutionary Committees. However, the program still suffered indirect consequences as well. Moreover, fearing dissents and radicalisation, the regime did not train enough engineers or physicists. The whole program suffered a lack of continuity and poor management, as well as the absence of a high-tech industry and an associated education system.

While the regime spent billions on procurement, it failed in finding Libyans qualified to assemble the nuclear-puzzle. According to the IAEA inspectors, only a handful of them was specialised in nuclear-related matters.[27] The lack of organisational resources was compounded by a general respect for non-proliferation towards Libya and by the constraining effect of UN sanctions after the Lockerbie bombing. By the late 1990s, the A.Q. Khan network appeared as the only route available, and it was indeed pivotal for the program but it showed that access to technology does not equate to building-capacity.[28]

How far, then, was Libya from building the bomb in 2003? Saif al-Islam, Qadhafi’s son, declared in 2009 that they believed that they were just five years away from getting the bomb. Instead, they were far away.[29] While it was not impossible for the regime to go nuclear militarily in the future, it was highly improbable. However, back in 2003, the threat-assessment of the Libyan nuclear program was radically different, matching with that of Saif, because it was influenced by the ongoing dynamics of the international system at the time.

After the 9/11 attacks, George W. Bush’s foreign policy overlapped with national security and countering proliferation became one of the main goals of the Global War on Terror. On the eve of the invasion of Iraq, Qadhafi’s offer to dismantle his program was perceived both as a political opportunity to bolster the US administration and as an effort coherent with the broader strategy of the White House of countering the spread of WMD. Consequently, one may argue that the threat-assessment of the Libyan program ended up reflecting the context of the post-9/11 altered perception. A mix of political opportunism and sincere security concerns were the mirror through which both the British and the US looked at Libya.

In summary, the history of Qadhafi’s nuclear program proves that money, dual-use materials procurement and black-market are not enough to get the bomb. Without a top-priority programme led by the government and handled by highly-specialised scientists, acquiring all the pieces of the nuclear puzzle can result in a dead-end. Furthermore, it proves that threat-assessment of a nuclear program is easily and dangerously altered by the general dynamics of the international system (even those which are not immediately related to WMD) and to the approach and perceptions that policy-makers have regarding nuclear proliferation and international security at a given time.

[1] Wyn Q. Bowen, Libya and Nuclear Proliferation. Stepping Back from the Brink (Routledge, 2017), p. 25.

[2] Målfrid Braut-Hegghammer, Unclear Physics: Why Iraq and Libya Failed to Build Nuclear Weapons (Cornell University Press, 2016).

[3] Derek Lutterbeck, “Arming Libya. Transfers of Conventional Weapons”, in Contemporary Security Policy, 30:3, 2009, pp. 505-528.

[4] Målfrid Braut-Hegghammer, “Revisiting Osirak. Preventive Attacks and Nuclear Proliferation Risks”, in International Security, Vol. 36, No. 1, Summer 2011, pp. 101-132.

[5] Ronald Neumann, Senate Testimony on US Policy Toward Libya, Committee on Foreign Relations, May 2000. https://www.govinfo.gov/content/pkg/CHRG-106shrg67394/pdf/CHRG-106shrg67394.pdf

[6] “Libya Has Trouble Building the Most Deadly Weapons”, in The Risk Report, Wisconsin Project on Nuclear Arms Control, Vol. 1, No. 10, December 1995, pp. 1-4.

[7] Shyam Bhatia, Nuclear Rivals in the Middle East (Routledge, 2016), p. 68; “Annex 8: Nuclear Infrastructures of Argentina and Brazil”, in Nuclear Technologies and Non-Proliferation Policies, Issue 2, 2001, http://npc.sarov.ru/english/digest/digest_2_2001.html.

[8] Ibidem, p.68, Cooley, Op. Cit., pp. 232-233. See also: Frank Barnaby, The Invisible Bomb. The Nuclear Arms Race in the Middle East (I.B. Tauris, 1989), pp. 98–99; Technology Transfer to the Middle East, US Congress, September 1984, OTA-1 SC-173, p. 380, http://www.wws.princeton.edu/ota/ns20/year_f.html, p. 397. On the Libyan–French deal: Shai Feldman, Nuclear Weapons and Arms Control in the Middle East (MIT Press, 1997), pp. 63–65.; Technology Transfer to the Middle East, US Congress, September 1984, OTA-1 SC-173, p. 380, http://www.wws.princeton.edu/ota/ns20/year_f.html, p. 397.

[9] Bowen, Ibidem, pp. 29-30.

[10] Department of Technical Cooperation, International Atomic Energy Authority, http://www-tc.iaea.org/tcweb/projectinfo/default.asp; Project Number LIB/3/004, Nuclear Raw Materials.

[11] Implementation of the NPT Safeguards Agreement of Libyan Arab Jamahiriya, Report by Director General, IAEA, May 20, 2004. https://www.iaea.org/Publications/Documents/Board/2004/gov2004-12.pdf.

[12] IAEA Report, May 2004, Op. Cit., p. 6.

[13] K.D. Kapur, Soviet Nuclear Non- Proliferation Diplomacy and the Third World (Konark Publishers, 1993), p. 148. See also: “Soviets Draw Back from Helping Libyan Program”, in Nuclear Engineering International, December 1987, p. 27.

[14] OTA, Technology Transfer to the Middle East, Op. Cit., p. 380; MacLachlan and Knapik, Belgium and Libya, p. 5, quoted in: Bowen, Op. Cit., p. 33.

[15] IAEA Report, Implementation of the NPT, Op. Cit., p. 4. See also: “Japanese Parts Used in Libya’s Nuke Program,” in Herald Ashi, March 13, 2004. Quoted in: Bowen, Op. Cit., p. 34.

[16] Gordon Corera, Shopping for Bombs: Nuclear Proliferation, Global Insecurity, and the Rise and Fall of the A.Q. Khan Network (Oxford University Press, 2006).

[17] Royal Malaysia Police, “Press Release by Inspector General of Police in Relation to Investigation on the Alleged Production of Components for Libya’s Uranium Enrichment Program”, February 20, 2004, http://www.rmp.gov.my/rmp03/040220scomi_eng.htm.

[18] Bowen, Op. Cit., p. 37.

[19] Anwar Iqbal, “Khan Network Supplied N-Parts made in Europe, Southeast Asia”, in Financial Times, June 10, 2004. See also: James Doyle, Nuclear Safeguards, Security, and Non-proliferation. Achieving Security with Technology and Policy (Butterworth-Heinemann, 2008).

[20] Andrew Koch, “The Nuclear Network: Confession of a Proliferator”, in Jane’s Defence Weekly, February 24, 2004.

[21] IAEA Report, Implementation of NPT, Op. Cit., Annex 1, p. 6; Stephen Fidler, and Mark Huband, “Turks and South Africans Helped Libya’s Secret Nuclear Project”, in Financial Times, June 10, 2004.

[22] David Albright, and Corey Hinderstein, “Libya’s Gas Centrifuge Procurement: Much Remains Undiscovered”, in Institute for Science and International Security, March 1, 2004, http://www.isis-online.org/publications/libya.

[23] David Albright, International Smuggling Networks: Weapons of Mass Destruction Counter-proliferation Initiative, Statement before the US Senate Committee on Governmental Affairs, June 23, 2004. http://www.senate.gov/∼govtaff/index.cfm?Fuseaction=Hearings.Testimony&HearingID=185&WitnessID=673.

[24] IAEA Report, Op. Cit., p. 3. See also: Andrew Koch, “The Nuclear Network. Chinese Warhead Drawings Among Libyan Documents”, in Los Angeles Times, February 16, 2004.

[25] Målfrid Braut-Hegghammer, “Why Iraq and Libya Failed to Build Nuclear Weapons”, Seminar at Woodrow Wilson Centre, September 15, 2017.

[26] Braut-Hegghammer, Ibidem.

[27] Richard Stone, “Agencies Plan Exchange With Libya’s Former Weaponeers”, in Science, Vol. 308, No. 5719, April 8, 2005, pp. 185-186.

[28] Chairman Hon. Laurence H. Silberman, and Hon. Charles S. Robb, Report to the President of the United States, The Commission on the Intelligence Capabilities of the US Regarding WMD, March 31, 2005, pp. 259-260. See: Federation of American Scientists (FAS), https://fas.org/irp/offdocs/wmd_report.pdf .

[29] Braut-Hegghammer interview with Saif al-Islam. Quoted in: W. Wilson Centre Seminar, September 2017.

Leonardo Palma attended the Military Academy of Modena and holds a B.A. in Political Science and a M.A. in International Relations from Roma Tre University. He has been visiting research student at King’s College London, Department of War Studies. Twitter: @HadrianPAelius.

NATO is wounded, this Summit could break it

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By Dr Zachary Wolfraim

NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg ahead of the Summit (Credit Image: NATO HQ)

In light of the recent chaos consuming British politics and the looming NATO summit, I revisited an article I wrote on the eve of the US election in 2016 hoping it would outline a worst-case scenario, rather than reality. At that time, NATO was heading into uncertainty with the reality of Brexit and the Conservative Party’s significantly reduced majority in Parliament just starting to sink in. Turkey was moving steadily towards autocracy and Donald Trump was a long-shot, but nonetheless threatening Presidential candidate. This scenario has since come to pass and with the critical ongoing summit (on the 11th and 12th July 2018), NATO has again been pushed into a corner and forced to defend its existence. This is a frequent occurrence for the alliance, particularly since the end of the Cold War. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, rather than disbanding, the alliance found new purpose both as a vehicle for promoting US interests in Europe but also as a security organisation capable of undertaking coordinated multilateral interventions. In occupying this role, NATO has reinvented itself from collective defence organisation established to prevent Soviet expansionism into one able to execute complex, coordinated multilateral military interventions. In doing so it has responded to crises in the Balkans, Afghanistan, Libya and has now reoriented back towards countering Russian aggression in Eastern Europe. The threat it faces now is not from an external crisis, however, but internal within the alliance and the effect of radical realignments in policy both in the US and the UK.

As a backdrop to current events, suspected Russian interference into both countries have undermined mechanisms of political campaigning and cast doubt on democratic outcomes while delivering policies that dramatically upend decades of Western international security policy. President Donald Trump and specifically his transactional view of international alliances and a complete lack of consistency in policymaking present an existential threat to the organisation and consequently, creates another way of undermining US influence in Europe. Concurrently, Britain has been rendered politically unstable, consumed with Brexit which adds to years of austerity that have diminished much of its defence capability. Both countries play a central role in providing military support and a diplomatic vision to NATO and are struggling to define their respective relationships within the broader international order.

In the UK specifically, both major parties, the Conservatives and Labour, are completely riven by Brexit with the Conservative party engaging in open conflict over the UK’s future relationship with the EU, most recently losing its Foreign Secretary and its Brexit minister. This has not yet spilled into the UK-NATO sphere but nonetheless has planted seeds of doubt in the minds of allies over the type of reliable member the UK will continue to be. Despite the country’s position as a framework nation contributing to vital capabilities and forces alongside meeting its 2% budgetary commitment, it has continued to under invest in maintaining its military capabilities and by extension limiting its ability to act as a capable partner in NATO operations. This is now reaching a point where its future effectiveness could be called into question. Stagnant economic realities mean that future defence investment decisions are likely to be pushed down the road until there is a clearer UK-EU relationship. As a result, one of Europe’s critical NATO members is effectively in a holding pattern for the next few years.

The US, on the other hand, presents an even more fundamental question. President Trump has made it relatively clear that he does not believe the values that underpin NATO are sufficient to justify its existence. Trump’s sole emphasis has been on the disparity between US defence spending and the continuing 2% spending target, disregarding the agenda setting influence this spending has bought. While this has often been a point of contention in NATO, the President’s willful misunderstanding of how this spending target works has only compounded his sense of grievance with NATO allies. Fundamentally, the President seems willing to dismantle the security architecture that has underpinned the safety and security of Europe, the North Atlantic and the West more broadly since the end of the Second World War over the issue of spending and budgets. Despite reassurances from the US Permanent Representative to NATO and US Defence Secretary, James Mattis, about the alliance’s central role to US defence priorities, no one actually knows what President Trump will say as he has no defined priorities or identifiable value structure when it comes to international relations.

Regardless of what happens in this summit, NATO remains in serious trouble during the tenure of the Trump presidency and until Britain has decided its future relationship with the EU. For the time being NATO member states must remain defensive about their continued increases in spending, proactive in their policymaking and vocal about what NATO’s value added is to international security. The 2% spending goal, while admirable, should be adapted to place emphasis on effectiveness and thus increase coordination between Allies to enhance the capability of NATO as a whole. Though the UK has made its commitments to NATO clear, its ability to follow through on them is variable and thus the ability to coordinate with similarly effective NATO forces creates a way of preserving influence and capability. Ultimately, despite the UK’s diminished international presence, NATO can potentially continue to limp along with US disengagement until the next presidential election. However, there is no doubt that this is one of the lowest points for the transatlantic relationship since the beginning of the Iraq War. At that time, major NATO members both publicly rebuked the US invasion of Iraq and refused to support US efforts in mobilising NATO to defend Turkey. This previous rift in the alliance seems minor in hindsight, however, it nonetheless demonstrated that the organisation can endure difficult diplomatic relations and carve out a relevant international role.

During this summit and beyond, Canada and European NATO Allies will need to prioritise the relevance of NATO, invest in maintaining the organisation and prepare to speak up in its defence. There remains considerable support for NATO in the US and Allies should make every effort to maintain links with aligned US Senators and Representatives to continue making the case for NATO. In terms of operations, NATO must continue its presence in Eastern Europe and continue to be a proactive force in international affairs, driven by the initiative of Canada and European members, otherwise it runs the risk of becoming a discussion forum rather than an active force for stability and progress. More generally, NATO member states will need proactive strategies to deal with Russian disinformation and spend time on reaffirming and rebuilding trust with voters. With time and perhaps a different administration, the alliance will recover somewhat, however, the damage that has already occurred will take time and dedication, particularly on the part of the US, to recover.

 

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Dr. Zachary Wolfraim graduated from the War Studies department where he examined how narratives shape foreign policy behaviours. He has previously worked in NATO headquarters on operations in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya as well as political risk and intelligence sectors in London.

Image source: https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/news_156597.htm

Saudi Arabia: The Wind of Change?

by

By Roisin Murray

Bin Salman ushers in a new era for Saudi Arabia?

With a historical legacy as the foremost theocratic state in the Sunni Muslim sphere, political developments in Saudi Arabia that threaten to challenge its conservative, religious identity are significant.[1] The domestic situation of Saudi Arabia is a concern for many foreign governments; states worldwide are reliant on Saudi oil, and Saudi Arabia is vital to the security of the Gulf region.[2] The international community has focused its attention on Saudi Arabia, as Prince bin Salman continues to implement his modernisation agenda under the banner of ‘Vision 2030’. Bin Salman, who previously held the position of defence minister, is the son of King Salman and has been named the successor to the throne. The latest development in bin Salman’s reform agenda has seen him embark upon an anti-corruption crusade directed at upper-level elites, crystallising in the detention of 325 top officials in Ritz-Carlton hotel on corruption charges. Thus, this article will discuss the recent corruption crusade in light of the wider reformist drive. Essentially, it will analyse to what extent this crackdown on fraudulent practice in business is a logical expansion of bin Salman’s blueprint for modernisation, or rather a smokescreen to distract from the pervading, growing autocracy of the kingdom.

These reforms are part of bin Salman’s wider drive for modernisation of the Kingdom, enshrined in his ‘Vision 2030’ blueprint. Traditionally, Saudi Arabia’s hegemony has remained wholly uncontested. Its national identity has been built on its role as ultraconservative Kingdom, greatly influenced by Islamic clericalism and financed by a state -sponsored oil industry. Bin Salman’s push for modernisation and diversification of the Saudi economy comes at a critical time. The financial situation of the Kingdom is precarious, following a decline in oil prices and the rising expense associated with participation in the war in Yemen. Bin Salman aspires to transform the Kingdom into a more expansive economy, driven by private investment and renowned for its ingenuity. However, systemic corruption is an obstacle to bin Salman’s precious roadmap.

Bin Salman’s so-called anti-corruption purges saw approximately 325 figures from Saudi’s elite placed in detention for eighty days under corruption and embezzlement charges. The ensuing investigation saw finances audited and personal bank accounts frozen. Yet, as January came to a close, bin Salman released the majority of those who had been detained in the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Riyadh, as their accounts faced scrutiny from analysts. A reported $100 billion was recovered by the Saudi government, following the end of a three-month investigation into charges of corruption amongst high-ranking royal families and businessmen. Over three hundred of the detainees managed to secure their freedom following a financial settlement which included an exchange of commercial property, stocks and cash. A full breakdown has not been made public, raising concerns that state business continues to be conducted behind closed doors, with little regulation. Accusations that the crackdown was the result of a nefarious political agenda, seeking to target individuals who were critics of the Prince, are rife. The private nature of the negotiations exposes the hollowness of bin Salman’s reforms. Traditionally, Saudi decision-making has been notably opaque ‘in the form of decrees with a flavour of palace intrigue’.[3] The continuation of such policies when addressing the lack of transparency in business dealings is somewhat ironic. Furthermore, it also emphasises bin Salman’s failure to challenge the lack of accountability of the royal family.

Those advocating change in Saudi Arabia applaud bin Salman’s reforms, which seek to promote accountability for financial malpractice in business ventures. However, his plans for the nation do not come risk-free. There is the likelihood that such practices will hamper potential foreign investment, while investment at home potentially stalls. Bin Salman’s excessive centralisation of the government and the nonchalance with which he requisitions assets does not exactly endear domestic investors.

The crusade to eradicate the corruption plaguing the upper echelons of Saudi Arabia is only one element of bin Salman’s wider template for modernisation. Bin Salman has already announced his intention to lead the Kingdom back to moderate Islam and has sought to curb the excesses of the religious police force. But the reform which has garnered widespread international attention is the lifting of the notorious ban on female drivers, to be enacted in June. Female liberation in Saudi Arabia has been further compounded by women’s increased access to the public sphere, enshrined in new legislation which permits them to attend football games.

Yet, beneath the surface of these progressive developments, Saudi Arabian despotism only continues to strengthen. A recent centralisation of the power structure has afforded bin Salman almost uncontested power, highlighted by the extensive responsibilities bestowed upon him; he now enjoys control of the Defence, Foreign, Finance and Petroleum ministries.[4] Recent restructuring of the governing body means that decision-making has become highly exclusive, a privilege reserved for the elite.[5] Bin Salman has carved a position from where he can pursue his hawkish foreign policy goals, exemplified by Saudi intervention Yemen.[6] Thus, bin Salman’s reforms can be seen in the context of a diversion technique to distract from the growing tyrannical and coercive nature of the Kingdom.

Bin Salman is not only the driving force behind ‘Vision 2030’ but is also the fresh new face of Saudi Arabia’s public relations. Symbolic visits to the NATO headquarters and the White House suggest approval for bin Salman in the Western world, which has largely, and conveniently, ignored bin Salman’s continued centralization of power.[7] Yet, Hammond contends that the tendency of the Western states to endorse Saudi Arabia’s ‘empty discourse of reform, with its essentially limited gains’ is influenced by an ulterior motive;[8] their concern for stability in the Kingdom, given that it provides essential services to governments in the West.[9]

Ultimately, bin Salman’s reformist agenda is a red herring, and merely a pretext for bin Salman to pave his way to a Saudi Arabian autocracy. The anti-corruption purges are evidence of bin Salman’s far-reaching influence and power, and the lack of transparency in the final negotiations have thus far been excused. While it is easy to welcome the progressive social developments, on deeper analysis they seem tainted by a nefarious agenda; these ‘reforms’ are simply symbolic concessions to placate the international community and divert attention from bin Salman’s escalating power drive. The wind of change is blowing, but it is not strong enough to dislodge the authoritarianism of the Saudi royal family.

 

 

Roisin Murray is currently undertaking an MA in International Relations at King’s College London. She holds an undergraduate history degree from University College Dublin. Her research interests include diplomacy, counter-terrorism and insurgency, particularly in the context of the Middle East.

Notes

[1] Joseph Nevo, “Religion and National Identity in Saudi Arabia,” Middle Eastern Studies 34, no.3 (1998): 35,https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/00263209808701231?needAccess=true&instName=King%27s+College+London-

[2] Tim Niblock, Saudi Arabia: Power, Legitimacy and Survival (Abingdon: Routledge, 2006): 1.

[3] Hamid Hussain, “Royal Rumble: Dynamics of Saudi Royal Family,” Defense Journal 21, no.1 (August 2017): 50.

[4] Umer Karim, “The Evolution of Saudi Foreign Policy and the Role of Decision-making Processes and Actors,” The International Spectator 52, no.2 (2017): 77, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/03932729.2017.1308643?needAccess=true&instName=King%27s+College+London

[5] Karim, “The Evolution of Saudi Foreign Policy’, 82.

[6] Karim, “The Evolution of Saudi Foreign Policy’, 82.

[7] Karim, “The Evolution of Saudi Foreign Policy’, 76.

[8] Andrew Hammond, The Islamic Utopia: The Illusion of Reform in Saudi Arabia (London: Pluto Press, 2012): 231.

[9]Hammond, The Islamic Utopia, 231.

Image Source:

http://www.arabianbusiness.com/politics-economics/386638-saudi-arabia-releases-two-princes-after-corruption-probe

Bigliography

Hammond, Andrew. The Islamic Utopia: The Illusion of Reform in Saudi Arabia. London: Pluto Press, 2012.

Hussain, Hamid. “Royal Rumble: Dynamics of Saudi Royal Family.” Defense Journal 21, no.1 (August 2017): 50-56, https://search.proquest.com/openview/783c8d01468270b5a07a0f4fb0fafc92/1?pq-origsite=gscholar&cbl=616545

Karim, Umer. “The Evolution of Saudi Foreign Policy and the Role of Decision-making Processes and Actors.” The International Spectator 52, no.2 (2017): 71-88. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/03932729.2017.1308643?needAccess=true&instName=King%27s+College+London

Nevo, Joseph. “Religion and National Identity in Saudi Arabia.” Middle Eastern Studies 34, no.3 (1998): 34-53. 35, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/00263209808701231?needAccess=true&instName=King%27s+College+London-

Niblock, Tim. Saudi Arabia: Power, Legitimacy and Survival. Abingdon: Routledge, 2006.