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(A shorter version of this text in Dutch can be found on the China2025 blog.) In 1949, the Chinese civil war ended. Chiang Kai-shek’s troops and millions of Nationalist followers fled to Taiwan, establishing the Republic of China; meanwhile, the Communists claimed victory on the mainland, with Chairman Mao proclaiming the new People’s Republic from the Forbidden City in Beijing. With that, almost two decades of domestic struggle came to an end. Still, the civil war did not really end. There has never been a formalized peace agreement between the Nationalists and Communists; nor has there ever been a formal recognition by either of the other’s statehood. Even more, although the Taiwanese no longer aim for reclaiming the mainland, vice versa, the Chinese very much do intent to reclaim the island. This would not constitute an interstate war, as the Republic of China is not considered to be an independent state by neither the People’s Republic or the international community. Thus, the civil war still is very much alive. This civil war knows many forms, and conflict between the PRC and ROC has mostly taken place in proxy fashion, for instance by rivalling each other in international organizations or targeting third states that support the other China. Although little considered, a relevant and highly interesting battleground in the Chinese civil war has recently been regaining the spotlight amidst political shifts: Central America. Why does this region play a central role in the Chinese rivalry—and what role do recent local political developments play in this rivalry? In 2021, I wrote my master’s thesis on this subject. In this post, I want to explain the historical context of the rivalry. I focus explicitly on Central America and why this small region became a stronghold for Taipei. In my next post, I will focus on the current situation and the prospects of future Central American diplomatic recognition of the Chinas. The Taipei–Kyiv parallel and the quest for legitimacy The conflict between the two Chinas has regained its place in the global spotlight in the past few months, if it had even left that spotlight before. Parallels drawn between Russia’s denial of Ukrainian sovereignty and PR China’s denial of Taiwanese sovereignty are understandable and certainly hold some merit. The parallels have revitalized concerns that the Chinese may sooner, rather than later attempt to capture the island. It makes the Taiwanese the more desperate to cling to any form of international recognition, and it makes the Chinese the more adamant to deny the Taiwanese any form of international recognition. This brings the issue of legitimacy forward as very important. Here, one of the largest problems in the ubiquitous Ukraine–Taiwan parallels becomes apparent. Legitimacy is barely an issue for the Ukrainians: Ukraine is formally recognized by virtually any state on earth as a sovereign, independent state; yet the Taiwanese are formally recognized to a far lower degree. Currently, only fourteen states recognize Taiwan as a sovereign state and maintain full diplomatic relations. Only five of these states may be considered more than microstates. Consequently, invasion of Ukraine by Russia is formally to be regarded as an intrusion of a widely recognized sovereign state, while any invasion of Taiwan by PR China would not necessarily be considered as such: after all, none of the likely opponents of such a move recognizes Taiwan as sovereign, themselves. (The Chinese have suggested this, too.) This understandably makes gaining as much international recognition as possible a real priority for the Taiwanese government. It requires Tsai Ing-wen, the Republic of China’s president since 2016, to constantly reach out to non-recognizing states and international organizations, and to simultaneously maintain the relationship with those few states still recognizing the ROC. Recently, this has included elaborate state visits by the president of the Marshall Islands, the most vocal supporter of the Taiwanese in Oceania, and by a Taiwanese presidental delegation to the newly elected Honduran president. Moreover, earlier in April, a group of United States senators paid a well-publicized visit to Tsai, and in November 2021, a group of Baltic politicians did the same. At the same time, local media keep pushing Tsai to maintain and step up these continuous diplomatic efforts, anxious to lose international support. The PRC–ROC rivalry in Latin America: the early Cold War The history of the PRC–ROC rivalry is extensive, and it is not necessary to include it in excessive detail here. Very broadly, one can distinguish two phases in this rivalry: first, an ideological one, and then, a pragmatic one. After the end of the Chinese civil war in 1949, the international recognition for either China was very much the opposite of the current situation: the Republic of China on Taiwan was regarded by most states as the continuation of the Republic of China on the Chinese mainland, constituting a form of government-in-exile. The newly proclaimed People’s Republic was considered an undesirable aberration, and most states preferred to continue their relations with the ROC. In its early days, thus, the PRC found itself in a relatively isolated position. This was the case for bilateral relations, but also for international organizations: for a long time, the ROC held on to its place in international organizations as ‘the China’, most notably in the U.N. Security Council. The PRC found itself in the position of the underdog, surely, but it was not truly isolated. As soon as Mao proclaimed the People’s Republic, the Soviet Union established ties, and was followed by the entire Communist bloc, which included North Korea, East Germany, and Albania. In the years thereafter, more states chose to recognize Beijing over Taipei, yet the number remained low for some time. For the post-Second World War era had quickly entered the first stage of the Cold War, and most states became part of two clearly separated camps: the U.S.-led capitalist, Western bloc; and the Soviet Union-led Communist, Eastern bloc. In this bipolarity, Communist support for PR China’s international recognition was self-evident; yet non-Communist support for PR China proved to be much more difficult to achieve. The Taiwanese benefited: firmly placed in the American camp, it maintained the support from most Western states, and ensured its position in Western-dominated international organizations. In this, the Maoist foreign policy—which eventually even alienated the Russians and the Cubans—of PR China did not help. Although foreign policy under Mao certainly can be considered isolationist when compared with globalist foreign policy, interaction with the world outside China still took place. This foreign policy was distinctly revolutionary in nature. In Latin America, it was noticeable in several ways. Perhaps most importantly, the Chinese provided material support to anti-government militants in several Latin American countries, most notably in Central America. It was an ideological choice: the region was full of right-wing, militarist governments. Understandably, though, these right-wing governments were consequently not enthusiastic about establishing formal diplomatic relations with Beijing. Moreover, it is questionable whether the United States would have allowed any states in their ‘backyard’ to abandon capitalist Taiwan in this era. Cuba would have been trouble enough. The PRC–ROC rivalry in Latin America: the late Cold War Yet in the early 1970s, this changed. Chinese foreign policy became more pragmatic, and simultaneously for Latin America, interest in the region increased. No longer was supporting leftist revolutions abroad a primary incentive for the PRC; it was made increasingly clear that the government was ready to cooperate with those regimes that differed significantly in their political ideologies. This included, for example, Chile, where the Chinese explicitly continued their diplomatic efforts even after the rightist (and U.S.-sponsored) coup that ousted Chile’s socialist leader, Salvador Allende. This pragmatism, that continues to this day, and the growing interest in Latin America that followed the more internationalist foreign policy and the incentive to participate in a global economy—combined with the PRC’s amazing economic potential—allowed new ties between the region and the People’s Republic. Most importantly, however, the United States and PR China began their rapproachment, which proved to be crucial. In just a few years time, Communist China switched from the United States’ list of enemies to its list of allies, a shift that was made possible by the earlier Sino-Soviet conflict and the increasing pragmatism in the Chinese foreign policy. Beijing’s decision to work with Washington made diplomatic openings possible. Significantly, this also meant the ROC’s expulsion from the U.N. Security Council, as the PRC took its place. Now, the Chinese were really leaving behind their diplomatic isolation. Consequently, in this late Cold War, many states abandoned the Republic of China, instead choosing to formally recognize the People’s Republic. This also was true for Latin America: in the early 1970s, the largest Latin American states (including Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, and Venezuela) established diplomatic ties with the PRC. In the late 1980s, the entire South American continent had abandoned the ROC in favour the PRC, except Paraguay. The transformation of Chinese foreign policy, which picked up steam in the Hua era and especially when Deng Xiaoping took over in the late 1970s, into a more outward-looking policy meant a strengthening of ties with the region, including growing diplomatic efforts and increasing economic trade—albeit still relatively little in comparison to interactions with other regions. Central America’s support for Taipei in the late Cold War Although by the end of the Cold War (i.e., when the Soviet Union was dissolved) South America already no longer recognize dthe ROC as ‘the China’, in Central America and the Caribbean, virtually all states still maintained diplomatic ties with Taipei, and had not yet altered their recognition of the ROC. Indeed, in 1991, Cuba was the only state that recognized the People’s Republic, as it had done since 1960. Apparently, the factors that enabled a ‘recognition switch’ in South America from the early 1970s onwards (i.e., a less revolutionary Chinese foreign policy; rapproachment between Washington and Beijing; and growing Chinese interest in the region) did not matter in Central America. In my master’s thesis, I argued that there were four factors that may account for this anomaly. Firstly, the domestic political context in Central American states points to serious obstacles for any diplomatic recognition of the PRC. In some countries, this did not seem likely: in Panama, for example, the authoritarian leader in the 1970s was an enthusiastic supporter of Third Worldism—something he undeniably shared with Beijing. Others, like Nicaragua. Other states with strong dependencies on the United States, like Guatemala and El Salvador, in the early 1970s suddenly saw a permission structure appear after the Sino-U.S. rapprochement; indeed, Washington covertly even stimulated some states to make the recognition switch from PRC to ROC. However, there is more to Central American domestic politics: the nature of both the political regimes in power in the 1970s and 1970s as well as the nature of some individual leaders both proved relevant, too. Suggestions of the Americans to abandon Taipei were not too well-received in those governments that disliked taking orders from the United States, and attempted to not do so whenever possible. Moreover, several governments that were not prominently Third Worldist tended to be very rightist, which made realigning with a Communist government an unlikely course of action. Even more, the prevalence of authoritarian rightist political regimes in Central America easily aligned these states with the ROC, which in the 1970s and 1980s under Chiang Kai-shek’s leadership also constituted a rightist and militarist authoritarian regime. Secondly, the regional political context proved to be another obstacle to swift recognition of the PRC from Central American states. The proximity to Cuba impacted Central America to a higher degree than South America. Indeed, Communist leadership in Cuba had repeatedly targeted Central American states in the early Cold War, supporting leftist rebellions throughout the region. As such, anti-Cubanism was fierce in most Central American governments, and by extent, anti-Communist fears were widespread amongst the reactionary authoritarian leaderships. For them, the Cold War was not so cold; and consequently, much was considered through the lens of Cold War bipolarity, including the PRC–ROC recognition rivalry. Indeed, the PRC could be considered the ‘Cuba of the Far East’, with Mao not that different from Castro—which left Central American states with little appetite to make an ostentatious choice for the PRC, even when its foreign policy was moderated in the 1970s. Not all Central American leaders were radically opposed to Fidel Castro: the aforementioned excentric Third Worldist leader of Panama, Omar Torrijos, was on surprisingly good terms with Castro, having regular conversations and discussing many matters, including geopolitics. Yet Torrijos’ ties with the Cuban leader did not increase the likelihood of a recognition switch by the Panamanian government: if Torrijos listened to Castro’s considerations on and suggestions for dealing with Beijing, he would have clearly understood that Castro opposed any state in the region to increase relations with the PRC, despite their ideological alignment. Indeed, the Sino-Soviet split in the late 1960s greatly deteriorated Sino-Cuban relations, too, and the Sino-U.S. rapprochement made Castro determined to oppose the PRC whenever possible. As such, the rare number of leaders in Central America that were on good terms with Fidel Castro still would not have been persuaded to cooperate with Beijing in any way. Thirdly, diplomatic aptitude of both ROC and PRC shaped recognition behaviour of Central American states in the late Cold War. In short—diplomacy of the People’s Republic was relatively underdeveloped, as the isolationist foreign policy had left little room for establishing proper diplomatic netwerks in other regions, including Latin America. As previously mentioned, Chinese interest in Latin America grew, yet this only happened from the early 1970s onwards; as such, Chinese efforts to establish a (diplomatic, political, economic) foothold in the region, other than the previous efforts of revolutionary support, took time. The Taiwanese, on the other hand, were the de facto ‘China’ in the region, and thus had a significant advantage, also logistically: its diplomats had been in Central America for decades, and the Taiwanese diplomatic apparatus knew how to maintain its relations here, even when Beijing’s diplomatic efforts became more apparent. Diplomatic exchanges, trade platforms, academic gatherings, and culture conferences kept Taipei well in touch with both governments and societies throughout the region. What is more, there is scarce yet mounting evidence that the Taiwanese delivered goods and services to several Central American countries that proved the ROC’s value over the PRC’s: most notably, Taipei sent military assistance, including anti-insurgency training, which was highly valued by the authoritarian governments. It was something that Beijing did not, and probably could not provide. As such, both the elaborate diplomatic network of the ROC in the region, as well as its awareness of how to satisfy its allies, ensured support throughout Central America. Fourthly—and in relation to all previous three factors—state size was an important factor in recognition behaviour, especially in explaining the difference between Central America, and North and South America. Central America consists of only smaller powers, while North America (i.e., Mexico) and South America (Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and others) consists of significantly larger powers. This meant several things: in the early 1970s, it caused the PRC to first focus on the larger states of Latin America, relatively neglecting the smaller Central American states; it benefited Taiwanese diplomatic efforts, as it was easier to diplomatically and financially impact smaller states; and the relatively small state size made for interesting targets for Cuba-sponsored rebellions, whereas revolution would be harder to accomplish in the larger states in the region. Concluding note These factors account for the recognition trajectory of Central American states, that unlike other Latin American states in the 1970s and 1980s did not choose to switch recognition from the ROC to the PRC. Consequently, they explain why even now, Central America is in the middle of the Chinese recognition rivalry, as the foundation for Central America’s curious position was laid in the late Cold War. After the Cold War, things did change; and indeed, in the past few decades, several Central American finally chose to establish ties with the People’s Republic. In my next post, I have outlined under what conditions this happened, how the most recent recognition switches can be explained, and what we may expect of this recognition rivalry in the coming years and decades.

On October 27th, former Chinese prime minister Li Keqiang died from a heart attack while vacationing in Shanghai. Li had retired just a few months earlier, when Li Qiang was selected as his successor and put in charge of daily government. Li’s death gained much attention in international news media. In China, it resulted in an outpouring of mourning and support for his relatives. Similar to the period after the death of former president Jiang Zemin, both online comments and physical gatherings were strictly monitored by the Chinese government, afraid of any social unrest. Most analyses described Li as a prime minister who was “sidelined” during his tenure, while others wrote that he was simply “eclipsed” by president Xi Jinping’s dominance. An analysis in Foreign Policy concluded that Li “lived and died in Xi’s shadow.” It is all true. Premier Li was in charge of the economy, but Xi’s accumulation of power meant that he was increasingly unable to put his own stamp on policies. To some extent similar to Jiang, Li was considered a reformer who was in favour of opening the economy and giving more space to private enterprises—something that came into increasing contrast with the direction of his president. In his final years as prime minister, Li oversaw a tightly controlled economy. He also oversaw the continuation of the Trump-era U.S.­–China trade war, continued and intensified under U.S. President Biden. Not only did the economic conflict scare foreign investors and hurt trade relations, it also resulted in more state intervention in the economy. Of course, the same happened during the Covid-19 pandemic. The way in which Li Keqiang was considered an open-minded reformer and his legacy was celebrated by parts of Chinese society says a lot about contemporary China under the leadership of Xi. Ranging from the ever-diminishing space for its civil society to its flagship projects in global governance (BRI, BRICS+), and from environmental degradation to a rapidly aging population, there are a lot of question marks about the current state of China, and its outlook in the (near) future. But there probably is no bigger question mark than the condition of the Chinese economy, about which a lot of concern has permeated global media in recent months. I want to highlight some key issues below. Economic growth as the pillar of China's social contract If it is anything that Chinese people, the Chinese government, and international analysts all are concerned about, it is the trajectory of the Chinese economy. Serious, long-term problems in the Chinese economy, by several metrics the world's largest, could send shockwaves throughout the global economy and damage the economies of China's partners. It would obviously also hurt average Chinese people. Of course, economic growth is of vital importance for China. For decades, the Chinese people have been accustomed to high growth rates. Continuous economic growth meant that China under leadership of the Communist Party was able to lift more than 800 million people out of poverty, according to the World Bank—an accomplishment unparalleled in world history. Two years ago, Xi Jinping celebrated a "complete victory in eradicating absolute poverty" in China, an important milestone in a nominally Communist state. Continuous economic growth meant that for regular Chinese families, each new generation had a more promising future: there was more money, more technological development, and life standards improved steadily. As this happened under Communist Party leadership, many had no reason to question Party rule. There emerged a tacit understanding between state and society: as lives of regular Chinese people kept on improving, the Party did not have to fear for serious challenges to its authority. But after decades of improvement, growth of the Chinese economy has been stagnating in the last few years. This began with the trade war between China and the United States, initiated by Donald Trump (or, some argue, by Xi Jinping) in 2018, which tested the resilience of China's trade and supply chains. Beginning in early 2020, the Chinese economy was hit by the severe lockdowns that were put in place to prevent the spread of the Covid-19 virus. In 2021, the economy was further challenged as the real estate sector began to struggle, especially because of liquidity problems at the Evergrande Group. Crises of the Chinese economy The current problems in the Chinese economy consist mainly of three immediate crises: (1) a crisis in the real estate sector, (2) a crisis in local government debt, and (3) a crisis in public consumption. Problematically, these crises are interconnected to a considerable degree, and there are no easy fixes. First, the previously booming real estate sector is now stagnating, with large companies (most notably Evergrande) in financial trouble, unable to repay their debt and finish their construction projects. Real estate, like infrastructure investment, is one of the most important drivers of the Chinese economy, accounting for roughly 30% of Chinese GDP. For decades, China's economic growth depended for a significant part on an endless number of housing projects, which catered to the immense growth and modernization of China's cities. But property developers like Evergrande went too far, borrowing excessive amounts of money (sometimes in dubious ways) and spending similarly excessively. This went well for a long time, as consumer demand kept up and projects were delivered mostly on time and to consumers' satisfaction. The developers' revenue was steady and enabled the companies to repay many loans without much difficulty. But in the case of Evergrande and several other big developers, debt still reached dangerous amounts. When, a few years ago, the central government decided to restrict the virtually limitless ability to borrow money, there was no way out for these companies. Evergrande filed for bankruptcy in August 2023. Country Garden, another developing giant, defaulted on its debt in October 2023, with other property developers also publicly struggling with their debt. These collapses of property developers have not only posed macro-economic challenges, but also challenges on a smaller level: construction workers and countless third-party companies involved in construction projects are left unpaid, and people who invested in real estate see their investment go up in smoke (first image). According to TIME, real estate accounts for "up to 80% of household wealth", as housing projects are the go-to investment for Chinese families instead of pensions or stocks. Speculating with housing has also been incredibly popular in recent times, although Xi Jinping has come out strong against that tendency. In other words, the instability of the housing market has directly put the financial wellbeing of many ordinary Chinese households on the line. Local government debt Second, local governments are in serious financial trouble. Because of a partial decentralization of governance, local governments have held a responsibility over a broad range of (expensive) tasks, including social security, infrastructure projects, and Covid-19 measures. Containing the spread of the virus alone cost local governments tens of billions of euros. While these tasks may be justifiably attributed to local governments, they stretched resources thin. Debt piled up during the pandemic. And when local administrations were additionally tasked with bailing out suffering local banks in 2023, debt climbed to dangerously high levels. Usually, local governments can rely on a steady source of income. For the most part this comes from the sale of land. Land sale revenue and subsequent land-related tax revenue accounted for 31% of local government income in 2022 (PIIE). This reliance on land sale to maintain spending levels by the local governments is not sustainable, however. The crisis in the real estate market led to a sharp decrease in housing projects, which meant a sharp decrease in land sales. In other words, while local governments' spending has sharply increased in recent years, at the same time, their income has decreased. Hence, debt is swelling. In 2022, local government debt reached 92 trillion yuan, or about 12 trillion (!) euros. While the number for 2023 is not yet known, this amount poses a big risk to the stability of the Chinese financial system, especially because there are no easy ways to repay parts of the debt, let alone large sums. Even more, total debt is difficult to quantify, since large amounts of debt are "hidden": they are stowed away in public-private financing entities—the so-called local-government financing vehicles (LGFVs)—that are used to raise funds for investment in local projects, mostly by issuing bonds and obtaining loans from banks. Inability of LGFVs to repay their debt and unwillingness of borrowers to restructure debt have put local governments in an even more precarious situation. Additionally, as banks play an important role in the financing of the LGFVs, large-scale defaults of these vehicles could be dangerous for China's broader financial sector. In the last few months, the central government has implemented more measures to confront the debt crisis. In October 2023, Beijing asked state-owned banks to renew their loans with local governments, on longer terms and at lower interest rates. The State Council also forbade certain heavily-indebted municipalities of taking on more debt, and appointed a new finance minister. In November, the Chinese government updated its directions for local administrations, which included a stricter policy of engaging with 'problematic' private projects. Relatedly, it of course also enacted measures aimed at reinvigorating housing projects, which could stimulate landsales again, at least for some time. These measures show a willingness to address the issues that caused the ballooning of debt. At the same time, the decision to renew loans for local governments and provide subsibies for the real estate market might suggest that the central government is also willing to kick the enormous problem of local government debt down the road—again. Consumer confidence Third, the Chinese government so far has not found a solution to low consumer confidence. As happened globally during the Covid-19 pandemic, public consumption diminished sharply (a few sectors excluded, such as telecommunications). In most economies, consumers by now have picked up where they left off pre-pandemic. But Chinese people, who are already traditionally prone to saving more money than people elsewhere, have still not fully returned to their consumption habits from before the zero-Covid lockdown. During the first week of October (Golden Week), data showed that spending of Chinese consumers remained below pre-pandemic levels, even if Golden Weeks typically are "peak season for local spending". Similarly, this year's Single's Day (11 November) failed to register an uptick in spending: Reuters reported an "anemic growth in transactions, despite steep discounts by retailers," pointedly adding that consumers will need to "do more" in order to improve China's economy. Even e-commerce giants Taobao (Alibaba) and JD.com have reportedly noticed weak consumer confidence; this year, they did not even disclose their sales figures, a rather ominous sign. (Nevertheless, Chinese state media reported "record figures", eager to claim that the retail sector is back on track.) And, to come back to the aforementioned real estate crisis, the public's interest in buying new property has also decreased significantly, both out of concern about the implications of making large investments and distrust in property developers. Be all that as it may, more consumption is what the Chinese economy desperately needs. For the government, China’s elderly population is a logical target for boosting consumption. They have been so for years, amidst a demographic transition that shifts spending power more and more to seniors. Yet one of the other big challenges currently facing the Chinese central government—large youth employment—does not help at all. First and foremost, it hurts consumption because young people have less money to spend (and the money they do have, they will likely want to save because of the unfavourable economic outlook and unavailability of affordable housing in China’s big cities); but it also means seniors will want to save money for their offspring. Beijing has been attempting to stimulate consumption for some time. For example, in July 2023, it put in motion a “consumption-stimulation plan”, although both the plan and its scope remained vague and did not appear to be very ambitious. Instead, economists like Yu Yongding have argued that Beijing needs to more fundamentally alter its fiscal policies in order to "reverse the trend" of deflation and weak consumer demand, something Xi's government has been unwilling to do so far. Besides, the problem of lacking consumption is largely psychological: as long as people do not feel like it is safe to spend much money, they won’t. And as long as the other systemic issues in the Chinese economy are not sufficiently addressed, consumer confidence will not return, either. Doom or gloom Most economists and analysts agree that the economic challenges the Chinese government faces are daunting. There are no easy fixes. At the same time, there remains disagreement amongst experts about the prospects of the economy in the (near) future. There are numerous experts who are pessimistic and foresee continuous economic stagnation or even decline. Some have even already pronounced that China is over. Still, there are also some experts who are more bullish on China's ability to recover. A somewhat pessimistic analysis by the Carnegie Endowment has pointed to China's debt as its main obstacle for continued economic growth. By calculating several scenarios, they show that the government's high levels of investment in the economy have to be adjusted, in order to prevent the debt from reaching a catastrophic amount; but this adjustment cannot but severely limit GDP growth. In other words, the economy's overreliance on state investment has hurt its growth potential in the long-term. It does not help that "consumption growth must outpace GDP growth"—which, as noted above, seems rather unlikely at the moment. Michael Pettis similarly argues that "[o]ne of the most venerable and compelling explanations [of the worsening economy] is that China is simply reaching the limits of its investment-heavy, export-driven growth model." It means that the emphasis on exports has to end, and China needs to transition from a predominantly manufacturing economy to a service economy. Pettis is doubtful whether that is achievable under Xi, however. He is not alone: numerous analysts think that Xi's Marxism, authoritarianism or desire for global power are obstacles to an improved Chinese economy. As long as he is in charge of the country and its economy, they see little room for a strong recovery. Still, other experts think that concerns about the prospects of the world's second-largest economy are overblown. For example, Nicholas Lardy has interpreted macro-economic data differently, writing that they do not show a permanent slowdown, but rather a temporary set-back with already some early signs of a rebound. Reshma Kapadia emphasizes the size of the Chinese economy, which is such that it can surely absorb a small decline of GDP. She and others also point out that historically, Beijing's economic leadership has proven innovative and resourceful, and it has plenty of options left to solve the current (short-term) problems. While these solutions may not solve the larger, systemic issues in China's economy, they might at least bring back consumer confidence and kick-start a larger evolution of the economy's pillars, including the dominance of the property and manufacturing sectors. Silent killers are the most violent In any case, the Xi government needs to urgently find solutions to the three main crises in order to stabilize the Chinese economy. That, by itself, is already an enormous task. But there is more. China faces several systemic challenges that either are much more difficult to tackle than these current crises, or that are simply unsolvable. Some of these systemic challenges are well-known. The rapidly aging Chinese population, for one, is a known problem. Not only does it mean that the productivity of the Chinese people will drop significantly in the coming decades; it also leads to a range of other challenges, including facilitating a healthcare sector that can accommodate hundreds of millions of elderly. Economists like to discuss this mostly in the context of the threat of Japanification, referring to the end of the Japanese economic boom in the 1990s and subsequent economic stagnation. Other challenges include the politicization of international trade (both by the West and China itself) and large-scale youth unemployment, including the growing disconnect between graduating students and suitable job opportunities. The issue of youth unemployment can be considered a silent killer because, according to some analysts, it is leading to "diminishing aptitude for entrepreneurship and risk-taking spirit among young people." They refer to the lying-flat movement (tang ping), the causes of which are diverse and difficult to solve. In any case, if the government is unable to sufficiently motivate younger generations to fully participate in the economy (specifically, in ways that the government prefers—recall the aforementioned healthcare sector), it has a very big problem. "In July [2023], the National Bureau of Statistics revealed that youth unemployment had hit a record high of twenty-one per cent, nearly twice the rate four years earlier. Then the bureau stopped releasing the numbers. Zhang Dandan, an economics professor at Peking University, published an article arguing that the true rate might be as high as forty-six per cent, because she estimated that up to sixteen million young people have temporarily stopped looking for jobs in order to lie flat." — Osnos in The New Yorker But when it comes to silent killers of the Chinese economy, it mostly comes down to one: China's demographics. It has to do with the low birth rate, which seems unfixable, and the very rapidly aging population, which seems unfixable, too. Even more, it has to do with the enormous gap between city and countryside, and specifically, rural underdevelopment. In their book Invisible China: How the Urban-Rural Divide Threatens China’s Rise, Scott Rozelle and Natalie Hell have argued that actually, the underdevelopment of China's countryside and thus the underdevelopment of China's 'human capital'* constitutes the biggest threat to the Chinese economy in the long-term. I actually found their analysis pretty alarming and will come back to the topic later. Conclusion Economists, both Chinese and foreign, are making good efforts to understand China's economic challenges and suggest pragmatic solutions. At the same time, the days of pragmatism-over-ideology in China's economic governance have long been gone. In the 1990s, Deng Xiaoping famously said that "it does not matter whether the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice": if China had to adopt market economics to achieve economic growth, that was justifiable. For Xi, that is not an option. Ideology has become much more important again, also in the economy. From the perspective of Xi—who, as a true Marxist, has never been fond of laissez-faire economics—the current problems in the Chinese economy can easily be considered the result of Beijing's looser control over the economy, local governance, and society. In his view, China has wavered too much from socialism, either with or without Chinese characteristics. Whatever an economic recovery would require, under Xi's leadership there is only one direction: towards more state control. And if his tightening grip over the economy would bring more hardship to China's workers, his message is clear, and it is a classic: eat bitter (chiku). Personally, I think the Chinese government has been right to turn away from neoliberalism and take back more control. Letting the market run free has brought China much welfare and has helped make it a global power; but at the same time, socioeconomic inequality has skyrocketed and environmental degradation has cost much suffering. It would be naive to think that neoliberalism would fix the issues that challenge the economy today. Be that as it may, there is much worry within China about the economic outlook. As noted before, this has hurt consumer confidence; for that reason, one would expect clear communication from the government, explaining which problems it identifies and how it will solve them. But the central government's decision making has always been very opaque, and its use of language is notoriously vague (leading the China Media Project to exclaim "Speak Plainly, Mr. Chairman", earlier this year). For ordinary people, it is a guessing game what is the reasoning behind key decisions, whether it comes to the real estate market, youth employment, or the country's demographic transition. That does not help. As such, building confidence by communicating clearly and convincingly proves to be an additional challenge for Beijing. Unclarity and pretending everything is fine is not working: it leads to young people lying flat, businessmen leaving the country, investors pulling out, and people not spending their money. Subsidies and regulations can go a long way, but without the confidence of the Chinese people in their own economy, these problems will surely remain. * I don't like the term 'human capital', because it implies that humans are some form of capital—and need to possess that capital in order to be considered 'of worth'—and because it suggests that laborers are just as much capitalists as the real (financial) capitalists, which they obviously are not.

A large difference between the international relations theories of realism and constructivism concerns the position of small states or peripheral regions in dynamics of great-power competition. Realists argue that small states have a limited amount of options in their relationships with rivalling great powers, and their considerations are overwhelmingly oriented towards the balance of power. When a great power is perceived to be too powerful, smaller and thus weaker powers can either join the great power in order to avoid an attack, which is called bandwagoning; or they can decide to do the opposite, by balancing with another power in search for protection (p. 243-44). In contrast with realists, constructivists attach much more flexibility to the behaviour of smaller states in complex dynamics of great-power conflict. Whereas realists see international relations as a state of anarchy, in which every state attempts to survive and maximize power, constructivists see international relations as the result of social interaction. States do more than waging war: they also engage with each other in many ways, establishing cultural, political, and ideological relationships. These relationships between states are based on the exchange of ideas, ideologies, and culture. Because every idea, no matter its origin, can be extremely powerful and influential, constructivists are less inclined to underestimate the power of the small state. The 2020s have seen a serious rise of tensions between the world's current two great powers: the United States and China. Of course, international relations (IR) scholars have different opinions on the exact point of beginning of current China–U.S. competition. It makes sense to pinpoint the 2016 U.S. election campaign as the starting point. This is because before the Trump administration, the Obama White House and even his predecessors, Bill Clinton and George W. Bush, saw the potential of China's rise, and they—especially Clinton—thought that China's economic growth would inevitably lead to China's democratization and adoption of Western values. Obama in his second term (2012—2016) began to think differently, and this was a partial explanation for the U.S.' famous pivot to Asia. Still, Obama obviously pursued a much more constructive relationship with the Chinese than his successor would. Trump's imflammatory rhetoric during his campaign and subsequent early presidency, together with Xi Jinping's consolidation of power in Zhongnanhai and growing Chinese nationalism, shook the relationship between Washington and Beijing to its core. China–U.S. relations have deteriorated significantly and both sides are attempting to score victories against the other, whether it is in technological dominance, economic power, or their relationship with other parts of the world. While the term 'Cold War' might not be suitable for the current dynamic, worries about an escalation between China and the U.S. is real, especially in smaller or weaker countries that depend a lot on either side, or both. Smaller states are concerned that they have to choose between Washington and Beijing, and worry about the implications of such a choice. Some have already chosen sides; some are hedging any decision; and some are trying to balance both sides in order to benefit from the great powers' ambition to win them over. In any case, the China–U.S. rivalry is a global affair, with consequences for many states, both big and small. Earlier this year, I did some research on the small states of Central America, examining how the great-power rivalry has been received in their media and political discourse. Following the ideas of constructivism, my goal was to show how the relationship of these small states with both great powers has taken shape in those discourses, and how this related to their ideas about the implications of China–U.S. rivalry for Central America. Below, I explain some main conclusions of this research, which specifically focused on Costa Rica and Honduras. Central America and the great powers Before I come to those conclusions, it is good to briefly draw back first, and establish Central America's historical relationship with both great powers. Of course, the relationship with the United States has been especially close. From the perspective of the U.S., the countries of Central America are the closest part of the global South to its borders. The states are admittedly tiny, but relevant, given their role in U.S. national security. Not only can political instability in the region form a breeding ground for hostility towards U.S. territory, but the enormous amount of Central American migrants towards the U.S.–Mexico border in recent years has been defined as a risk to the nation's security. For this reason, the U.S. has always been 'present' in the region, a euphemism for meddling and intervening, both politically and militarily. At the same time, the U.S. has also provided significant development aid and economic investment in the region. One could argue that Central America has seen continuous foreign intervention ever since the fifteenth century, either through colonialism or neo-colonialism. In this framework, the U.S. (and perhaps to some minor degree, China) is the latest in a row of great powers intervening in the region, after the Spaniards, the British, and the Soviets (together with the Cubans). In the nineteenth and early twentieth century, amidst its increasing power, the U.S. waged an expansionist war against Mexico, occupied Cuba and both Haiti and the Dominican Republic. The American military intervened repeatedly throughout Central America and the Caribbean in what became known as the Banana Wars (1898—1934), begun under the bellicose Teddy Roosevelt. These wars included military intervention in Honduras to safeguard the interests of the United Fruit Company (it was in this period that an American writer coined the term 'banana republic', in reference to Honduras) and the occupation of newly independent Panama in order to control the Panama Canal. Military presence of the U.S. in the region became perhaps even more dangerous during the Cold War, when a fear that the Soviets could turn the region 'red' held a grip over Washington's foreign policy. Consequently, the U.S. propped up the reactionary, military dictatorships in the region, especially in Honduras and Nicaragua. In Guatemala, the U.S. supported a right-wing military coup, which overthrew the democratically elected left-wing Árbenz government. Since the end of the Cold War, the U.S.' approach towards the region has differed from president to president. Bush's relationship with the region was notoriously bad, while there was much optimism about the relationship with the U.S. during the Obama presidency, especially when he visited Cuba in 2016. After 2016, relations soured significantly under the leadership of Donald Trump. It was also during this time that China increased its presence in the region. China has historically had a low profile in Central America, most importantly because it did not have many diplomatic partners in the region until the 2010s. During the Cold War, Mao Zedong had supported the Cuban-led rebels in the region (he also received Guatemala's Árbenz in Beijing after his ousting), but the Central American socialist struggle was no large priority for the Chinese government. The geopolitics of the Cold War had also caused a conflict with Castro's Cuba, which endured a long time and further limited China's space in the region. Only after the Cold War did the pragmatic foreign policy of the Deng Xiaoping era lead the Chinese to invest more in the region, both economically and diplomatically. The 2010s were especially important: not only did several states, including Panama and Nicaragua, switch diplomatic recognition from Taipei to Beijing, but also did Xi's government expand the Belt and Road Initiative to Central America. Panama signed up as its first partner in 2018. The U.S. from a Central American perspective From the perspective of Central America, the U.S. has always been the big neighbour. As the illustration above indicates, this is reflected in the discourse of both Costa Rica and Honduras. There is a significant difference between the more specific perceptions in the two countries, however. In Costa Rica, the relationship with the U.S. is perceived primarily in economic terms, which is understandable given trade with the U.S. dwarfs all other trade volumes. At the same time, the relationship is also seen as value-based. Costa Ricans pride themselves on their democracy: in Latin America, only in Uruguay was support for democracy slightly higher in 2023 (p. 12). Moreover, Costa Rica has traditionally voiced strong support for human rights. Costa Rica thus sees its relationship with the U.S. also as a partnership in liberal democratic values. For this reason, Costa Rican politics and society have also at times criticized the U.S. government for what it considered violations of democratic values or human rights. Meanwhile, Honduras' relationship with the U.S. is more complicated. In its media discourse, there is more emphasis on the dominance of the U.S. in bilateral relations. This is in contrast with Costa Rica, where it seems preferred to perceive the relationship as more equal and like-minded. In Honduras, the U.S. is seen as the regional 'sheriff', intervening at will in the country's judicial system. This is not coincidental: for example, countless Honduran politicians and officials have been prosecuted in the U.S., including all its recent presidents. Furthermore, much emphasis is put on the trade relationship: the U.S. dominates as a destination for Honduran exports and imports. There are also clear concerns about overreliance on the U.S. economy: both in media and political discourse, there is a perennial question whether the U.S. is too important for Honduran trade and hurts Honduran sovereignty. This relates also to the remesas, the remittances that Central American workers in the U.S. send back home. An enormous amount of Hondurans has left their country in recent years and now resides in the U.S., often illegally. This further complicates the bilateral relationship and the Honduran perception of the United States. China from a Central American perspective As I wrote earlier, there is a tendency to overestimate Chinese presence in the region, and the content analyses reflect this. In Costa Rica, China is largely perceived as a promising partner, especially in trade, but to some degree also in other areas, including environmentalism. Both in Costa Rica's media and politics, there is little discussion about what China is and how it relates to Costa Rica itself. There are exceptions, of course, and these are mostly found in media on the ideological fringes. Semanario Universidad, a leftist medium, tends to consider China an untrustworthy partner and accuse it of human rights violations, especially in Xinjiang and Hong Kong. (But then again, SU is even more critical of the human rights record of the U.S.) The discourse analysis also shows surprisingly little discussion in Costa Rica about the value of having a relationship with Beijing. The ties are fairly new, having been established in 2007, yet there is no real contemplation about what they have brought the Costa Ricans. There are some exceptions to this, of course—for example, the regional investigative platform Expediente Público has critically assessed China's engagement with its new partners—but there certainly is no evident disappointment with the relationship with Beijing. Meanwhile, the perception of China in Honduras is much more complicated. Honduras, until early 2023, had never recognized the People's Republic of China as 'the China', and had a very strong relationship with Taiwan. Hence, Taiwan in Honduras was, and to a large extent still is considered 'the real China', while the now-recognized mainland China is seen as 'the other China'. President Castro's diplomatic switch, which caused considerable dissatisfaction in Honduras, meant that Honduras had to establish a relationship with China, with which previous relations were minimal. The analysis shows that China in recent years was consistently seen through the prism of Honduras' friendly relationship with Taiwan. Thus, China is frequently considered an aggressor and dangerous great power, and a Communist dictatorship which has hurt the liberal democracy of Taiwan. Interestingly, after the Castro switch, the subsequent debate in Honduras also put emphasis on the limited value of having relations with mainland China. For this, examples of fellow Central American states were used, mostly Costa Rica. Thus, perceptions of having a relationship with China differ within Central America. Left: former Chinese foreign minister Qin Gang welcomes Honduran foreign minister Eduardo Reina to Beijing (March 2023). Right: U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken and former Costa Rican president Alvaro Quesada meet in San José (June 2021). The great-power rivalry Based on these meanings attributed to the two great powers, it cannot come as a surprise that the analysis indicated a difference between the perceptions of the China–U.S. rivalry in Costa Rica and Honduras. They share a baseline, though, which likely is the same throughout Central America and the Caribbean: the great-power conflict is a potential risk for the small states' economic security, and both great powers thus have to be engaged cautiously. Optimism in Costa Rica In Costa Rica, the discourse analysis showed some concern about the trajectory of the China-U.S. relationship and its implications for smaller states, although it must be noted that the scope of this concern is limited. The main perception is that the great-power rivalry is limited to the trade war that began (or intensified) in 2018; there is little discussion of other aspects of the rivalry, like geopolitics and ideology. Costa Rican media and politics both understand that because of the small size of Costa Rica's small economy and its dependency on U.S. trade, the trade war can have negative consequences for Costa Rican business and subsequently Costa Rican consumers. (The aforementioned Semanario Universidad poses an interesting exception in the Costa Rican mediascape: it takes the explicit position that the U.S.-China conflict is geopolitically and ideologically motivated, and that China was unjustifiably attacked by a U.S. that fears losing its hegemonic position.) But in Costa Rica, some have also perceived the conflict between the great powers as an opportunity. They focus on a side-effect of the trade war: nearshoring by U.S. companies with manufacturing facilities in mainland China. These firms, concerned about the worsening trade war, increasingly consider moving their facilities from mainland China to the Americas, in order to safeguard their supply chains and avoid potential import and export restrictions. The first destination of these 'nearshorers' has been Mexico, which indeed has seen a significant increase in FDI from U.S. companies. A logical secondary destination would be Central America, which consists of states with fairly low wages, strong ties with the U.S., and relatively stable governments. Costa Rica, specifically, has a well-developed high-tech industry and houses numerous manufacturing facilities by global semiconductor powerhouse Intel. In August 2023, Intel already announced an additional $1.2 billion investment in its Costa Rican facilities. Thus, these developments also contribute to some optimism that Costa Rica may be able to benefit from the economic rivalry between the U.S. and China. Uncertainty in Honduras In Honduras, both media and politics began considering the great-power rivalry and its implications in more earnest in early 2023. Before that, there was little consideration of the growing tensions between China and the U.S. and what they meant. The rivalry was perceived as an economic conflict, a trade war that could potentially pose risks for Honduran business and consumers; at the same time, there were also a few mentions of the potential of nearshoring. In March 2023, an editorial in the conservative La Tribunal even proclaimed that the rivalry and subsequent nearshoring by U.S. companies “could be the long-awaited miracle that reverses the agonizing state of the national economy.” Discourse about the great-power rivalry and its implications for Honduras thus was limited and somewhat superficial, not too different from Costa Rica. But the diplomatic switch from Taiwan to mainland China in March 2023 changed the perception of the U.S.–China rivalry in Honduras. Beyond only an economic perspective, the rivalry now also became to be seen in (geo)political and ideological terms. Analysts and lawmakers criticized Castro's rapprochement with China, as it would risk the political relationship with the U.S. as well as investments from the American private sector. Some, especially critics of the Castro government, warned that Castro had drawn Honduras in a conflict between great powers, which could be catastrophic to its international position. In an editorial, El Heraldo argued that by seeking a closer relationship with mainland China, Honduras “becomes less and less trustworthy to the United States.” In this way, relations with China were directly juxtaposed with relations with the U.S. Even more, a popular perception emerged that before any engagement with China, the preferences of the U.S. should be taken into account, in order to prevent Honduras from becoming an even larger part of great-power competition. This frame further acknowledged Honduras' dependency on its northern neighbour, and showed a growing calculation amongst Honduran elites that as such, engaging with China could be detrimental to the country's prospects. Shrimp farmers (camaroneras) processing fresh shrimp in a facility in Honduras (2022). The decision to break off the relationship with Taiwan has caused anxiety in the important shrimp industry. Taiwan was the largest importer of Honduran shrimp, and exporting to China will be extremely complicated. Conclusion The case studies of Costa Rica and Honduras are interesting for multiple reasons, but most importantly, they illustrate the heterogeneity of small states, even in such a coherent cluster of states as in Central America. The analysis—reconstructing the meaning attributed to both great powers and their rivalry—showed that these two Central American states have different perceptions when it comes to China and the U.S., which are mainly rooted in the small states' economic and political contexts. Furthermore, it demonstrated again the agency of small states and their relevance even in great-power conflict. The discourse analysis also showed some evidence that narratives about the China–U.S. rivalry and the small state’s position in this rivalry only tend to become more popular and informed when the small state itself becomes part of the great-power conflict. More direct involvement in the rivalry, even when it is unintended, requires more attentive thinking in the small state about the great powers and how to maneuver their rivalry. The case of Honduras is a convincing example of this: when Castro chose a foreign policy of engagement with mainland China and more distance from the U.S., figures in media and politics became alarmed and began contemplating what it might mean for the country's international position. Honduras can be considered a negative case of small states maneuvering the great-power competition. The Castro administration's relations with Washington are deteriorating, its fruitful friendship with Taiwan is over, and the new relationship with China has brought a lot of headache, but few benefits so far. Disagreements with the White House will make Honduras an unattractive destination for nearshorers; a more hawkish foreign policy in Washington will refrain Beijing from engaging with Honduras more proactively. As such, while Castro's decision to establish ties with China has led to a more salient discourse about the meaning of great-power rivalry, this for now may have been too late. To some extent, Costa Rica shows the other side of the coin. Whereas in Honduras discourse about the great powers increased significantly in 2023, similar discourse is still quite muted in Costa Rica. This is understandable: unlike Honduras, Costa Rica so far has not become part of a U.S.–China dispute. And so far, Costa Rica's neutrality has provided it with the opportunity to possibly become the semiconductor hub of the Americas, even without abandoning its values and foreign policy strategies. In other words, there is still much space for small states to engage with both great powers and navigate their increasing rivalry.

Over the past two decades, China has cautiously deepened its engagement with Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC) and gained a fairly strong foothold in the Western hemisphere. While China's presence in Central America should not be overstated, its presence is felt much more in South America, most notably the nations of the Southern Cone. For the most part, this presence is purely economic. China has succeeded in signing free-trade agreements with several partners in the region, beginning with Chile (2005), while talks for new FTAs are currently underway with both Honduras and Nicaragua, who only recently established diplomatic relations with Beijing. Meanwhile, trade relations with Brazil and (pre-Milei) Argentina remain promising, not only because of complementarity but also because of a shared vision about global finance, most notably dedollarization and trade in domestic currency. In fact, China has been careful not to be too bold in the Americas, given it still considers it to be the "backyard" (houyuan) of the United States. The efforts to dedollarize bilateral trade are one of the bolder attempts to challenge the Americans on their 'own' turf. The same may be said about a potential trade agreement with MERCOSUR, the South American trading bloc, and the expansion of BRICS, of which Brazil already was a founding member, to include states like Argentina. (The new Milei government has indicated it might ultimately not join BRICS+.) When it comes to China's motives in the Americas, though, many remain skeptical about the popular narrative that China is trying to replace the U.S. in the Western hemisphere. Many of its activities either serve other purposes or simply fit in the broader trend of a rising power seeking more global influence. First, the Chinese outreach in the region has served the clear purpose of maintaining energy security and obtaining valuable resources, including fossil fuels like oil and critical minerals. Second, China's increased activity in Central America and parts of the Caribbean has not been about trade—these smaller states have relatively little to offer—and instead should be seen as an attempt to establish diplomatic ties with those states that still recognize the Republic of China (Taiwan). In other words, China's approach to LAC is rather pragmatic. At the same time, China's foreign policy discourse under Xi Jinping has also included certain important principles and values, including anti-imperialism, pluralism, and post-colonial emancipation. This makes the case of China's relationship with South America's Bolivia more interesting. After all, in the first two decades of this century Bolivia has been governed almost exclusively by an openly socialist party—the Movement towards Socialism (Movimiento al Socialismo, or MAS) and has been known for its anti-Americanism. The current Chinese government, of course, is known for its socialism with Chinese characteristics and is outspokenly anti-imperialist. Is this, then, something that makes China—Bolivia relations stand out from China's presence elsewhere in the region? Evo, the flagbearer of socialist antiimperialismo The leftist turn in Bolivia and, thus, perceived attractiveness to the Chinese government cannot be understood without taking into account the rise of Evo Morales. Under his leadership, Bolivia arguably became the most outspoken anti-U.S. state of the Americas. It has also become one of the most outspoken critics of the global economic system and the results of neoliberal globalization. Even in a region that is known for its interesting left-wing leaders of the twenty-first century, Evo Morales stands out as a larger-than-life figure, whose influence has transcended Bolivia, into South America and beyond. Before entering national politics, Evo was a coca farmer in the Bolivian highlands. His talents for public speaking and ideological vision revealed themselves while working as a unionist for the cocaleros. While coca is known worldwide for its use in cocaine, in the Andes, the leaves are used for daily consumption—not much more than an energy snack and a traditional medicine. Coca is an important cultural product. Unsurprisingly, the decades-long, vigorous assault of the United States government to prohibit coca production by Bolivian farmers was one of the key causes for Evo's anti-Americanism. Coca production and consumption in Bolivia is part of indigenous culture (non-indigenous Bolivians tend to look down on their indigenous compatriots, including coca-chewing). And this is what made Evo stand out as he left his union presidency and began running for national office: his indigenous roots. Indeed, in 2006, he became Bolivia's first indigenous president. It was a monumental occasion, especially for the emancipatory movement for indigenous peoples in Bolivia, who ever since Spanish colonization were oppressed and denigrated in Bolivian society, even while forming the country's clear plurality. As president, Evo oversaw a government that transformed governance, state—society relations, and the economy. Under Evo, the Bolivian economy grew significantly. By 2014, the real income of Bolivians had more than doubled, purchasing power saw big increases, and the domestic currency, the boliviano, had shot up in value considerably. Socio-economic inequality decreased, new social programs ranging from infrastructure to public education proliferated, and the Bolivian population "transformed from being classified as predominantly poor, to mostly middle income" by 2019. Besides economic policies, Evo's presidency was marked by a new constitution, which made revolutionary steps in recognizing the rights of Bolivia's many indigenous cultures. Bolivia acknowledged and combatted what has been called the 'coloniality of power, knowledge, and being' by Catherine Walsh: the continued dominance of Western ways of living and understanding, even though the Spaniards were defeated centuries ago. Space emerged for indigenous epistemologies and ways of living, on a scale unprecedented in the world. The constitutional reform in Bolivia was ambitious (arguably too ambitious), and results have been dubious at best; Evo's adherence to his principles as stipulated in the constitution have been criticized domestically. Still, with Evo as head of government, Bolivia experienced forms of socialist, indigenist, and anti-imperialist governance not experienced on a similar level in the Americas before. If one takes into account Evo's socialism, indigenism, and anti-imperialism, then Bolivia would seem a good target for Chinese diplomatic outreach. Evo was ousted as president and fled the country in 2019, but that does not mean that evismo disappeared from Bolivian politics; his close political ally Luis Arce took over leadership within MAS and was elected as Bolivia's current president in 2020. So what has come of the China—Bolivia relationship in recent years? Political comrades As it is widely thought that China is constructing deeper relationships with countries in the Western hemisphere, Bolivia would be a logical primary target. Bolivia's relationship with Washington is strained; its economy is in need of new recipient markets and perhaps donors; anti-imperialist and socialist thought have dominated national politics for decades; both Bolivian politics and society are generally open to revolutionary reforms to economy, governance, and international relations, as shown by the successes of the MAS; and Bolivia has recognized the People's Republic of China for almost forty years, beginning in the 1980s, and joined China's flagship diplomatic project the BRI more than five years ago. But evidence of a sense of 'comradery' from the Chinese government to Bolivia is very limited. As far as I can tell, there seems to be no special treatment of Bolivia, both diplomatically and economically. China and Bolivia have had quite superficial diplomatic relations, even during the presidency of Evo Morales. Evo did meet Xi Jinping several times, most notably during a state visit to Beijing in June 2018, during which a strategic partnership was established. When speaking with Evo, Xi mentioned that both states "are countries with ancient civilizations" that should naturally explore "the use of [their] ancestral wisdom", while thanking Evo for his support for China's current diplomatic vehicles (mostly the BRI). Evo, meanwhile, thanked China for its bilateral support "without conditions", a clear reference to Western diplomacy, and expressed hope for a "a closer strategic partnership in the future". But that all sounds more interesting than it truly is. As Li and Ye show, "strategic partnership" in China's taxonomy of diplomatic relationships is nothing special. Bolivia shares the title of 'strategic partner' with numerous countries, including Costa Rica, but also countries like Canada, Qatar, and Sudan—countries with much less ideological and political affinity with China. Even worse, there are numerous countries that have 'higher' levels of partnership, even within the Americas. Countries like Brazil, Ecuador, and Peru are comprehensive strategic partners, and Chile even is a comprehensive strategic cooperative partner. In other words, in China's diplomatic hierarchy (to which the Chinese government attaches significant value), Bolivia takes no special place at all. Xi's rhetoric during his meeting with the Bolivian leader also does not suggest a special relationship or a recognition of Bolivia's potential as a partner. His reference to Bolivia's ancient civilization, on par with China's, should not be understood as a reference to Evo's indigenism per se; rather, it is a common phrase in Chinese diplomatic discourse when meeting with other 'civilizational powers'. See, for example, Xi's comments during a 2019 meeting with India's Narendra Modi. This fits right in China's diplomatic strategies and the recent development of the Global Civilization Initiative. Moreover, both during this and other visits, the Chinese leader clearly framed China—Bolivia relations in the wider context of China's engagement with Latin America, and even more broadly, "South—South cooperation". This belies a Chinese tendency (or rather, preference) to approach Latin America as a whole, and not states individually. But the decision to do so also indicates that Xi has not (ostensibly) acknowledged Bolivia's special position in the region, ideological similarities with the Chinese government, and shared anti-Americanism. The same happened in more recent calls with Evo's successor Luis Arce, even during the height of tensions with the U.S. during the Trump administration. China's passivity after Bolivia's 2019 elections provides further evidence of the shallow partnership. The Chinese government did not raise its voice when Evo was deposed from the presidency after the turbulent elections of 2019, and did not object to the dubious decision to make Jeanine Añez his successor—a turn of events that, argue Becker and Farthing, constituted an anti-indigenous and anti-socialist coup by the country's conservative elites, supported by police and military. Even worse, the ousting of Evo was enthusiastically supported by the U.S., something that would fit right in China's diplomatic narrative about the role of U.S. in world politics. China's silence about the role of the U.S. was telling. The muted response of the Chinese government was also true for the Chinese embassy in La Paz, which did not publish any news on its official website throughout 2019 and early 2020. To be sure, the Chinese embassy of course did congratulate Arce with his electoral victory in October 2020; it had not congratulated Añez when she ascended to the presidency. In a read-out of a January 2021 call between Xi and now-president Luis Arce, who replaced Añez after new elections, Xi pointedly referred to the strength of bilateral ties "especially during the mandate of former president Evo Morales", excluding any reference to the Añez presidency. However, Xi did not refer to the right-wing, U.S.-supported coup that had taken place more than a year earlier—at least publicly. Perhaps equally telling, China's state-owned overseas media network CGTN America wrote about Evo's flight and Añez's presidency, but did not condemn the events, nor did it characterize it as a coup. Economic comrades Just as for most other states in the Western hemisphere, China has become an important trading partner for Bolivia. According to ECLAC's 2023 trade outlook, China—LAC trade reached a record high in 2022. Problematically, the trade balance is negative, as it has been consistently throughout this century; it even reached a record level of negativity in 2022. Bolivia is not an exception in this (p. 97). Just like for most of the rest of South America, China is Bolivia's main source for imports, mostly high-technology products like machinery and telecommunications equipment (p. 100), as well as vehicles and farming pesticides. At the same time, Bolivia almost exclusively exports natural resources to China: this mainly includes silver, precious metals, tin, and lead (besides natural resources, Bolivia also exports some meat to the Chinese market). An increasing part of bilateral trade is conducted in yuan instead of U.S. dollars, undoubtedly to the satisfaction of the Chinese government. The trade balance is significantly negative, which is compounded by the relatively low value of Bolivia's export products compared to what it imports from China. As is true for the rest of the region, this has been a recipe for deteriorating terms of trade. As long as Bolivia remains unable to diversify its exports to China away from the low-value primary products, it cannot compete with the relatively high-value end products China delivers. Subsequently, reaching a more equal trade of balance will be very difficult. Reliance on commodities in international trade remains a big problem for the Bolivian economy. The Chinese government could be expected to support its socialist partner in their diversification efforts, both to strengthen and modernize the Bolivian economy and to protect the environment. Considering how the powerful West has historically oppressed the global South and reaped the benefits of their vast reserves of natural resources, especially in the colonial era, helping Bolivia be able to no longer depend on those resources would make much sense. But the Chinese are not doing that. It is not that China is not capable: for example, its Belt and Road Initiative could be used as an instrument to help Bolivia improve its own production capabilities, leaving it less reliant on exporting commodities. It could also unilaterally decide to focus on other products that Bolivia has to offer, by investing more in Bolivian meat, coffee, or quinoa—products about which were reached memorandums of understanding during the 2018 Evo—Xi meeting. Instead, just like its capitalist adversaries in the West, China seems happy to exploit Bolivia's abundance of natural resources and critical minerals. Not only does China want to safeguard domestic energy security, for which it needs enormous amounts of fossil fuels and other commodities; but it also needs precious metals and critical minerals, including lithium, for its high-tech manufacturing. The main battle for market dominance now lies in the electric vehicles (EVs) industry, for which a lot of metals and minerals are needed, most importantly lithium. Bolivia happens to be part of the so-called Lithium Triangle, together with Argentina and Chile, an area in the border region of the three countries with enormous lithium reserves. All three countries have seen much interest from economic powerhouses in order to safeguard access to the lithium, including the United States and the European Union. In Bolivia, the West faces strong competition from China. Since 2019, several Chinese companies have built lithium carbonate plants in the country, either individually or in joint ventures with Bolivian companies. In January 2023, Bolivian state company YLB signed a €1 billion agreement with three Chinese firms "to explore lithium deposits". And five months later, an additional €1.3 billion agreement between YLB and two Chinese and Russian state-owned companies to construct two additional plants was signed, further accelerating China's access to Bolivia's lithium. The Chinese desire to control as much of the extractive process and subsequent exports as possible fits in a familiar pattern: for decades, its overwhelming economic interest when it comes to the trade relationship with Bolivia comes down to importing commodities. In that regard, Bolivia does not stand out from its regional neighbours in any way: more than eighty percent of South American exports to China are commodities (p. 90-92). Even more, although Chinese foreign direct investment (FDI) in the region remains very low, including in Bolivia (p. 42), it shows a pattern in Bolivia as much as elsewhere: brownfield investment dwarfs the amount of greenfield investment (p. 90) and is located overwhelmingly in the energy sector (p. 100). In other words, both in trade and in investment, China is solely preoccupied with satisfying its hunger for commodities, and does not invest in (or stimulate) structural changes in the Bolivian economy. China's approach to bilateral trade relations also indicates a failure of Evo's economic policies. While in office, Evo displayed a hunger for economic growth that proved incompatible with sustainability reforms and a diversification of the economy. He nationalized the mining of natural resources, but did not end extractivism. Instead, he argued that the extraction of natural resources, while damaging to the environment and thus to Pachamama (Mother Earth), allowed the government to redistribute wealth and expand public services (desarrollismo). In other words, Evo and MAS did not really put up a fight against China's increasing exploitation of Bolivia's natural wealth. At the same time, it also means that China is not acting as Bolivia's friend, or for that matter, as a strategic partner. The only strategic value of the relationship seems to be China's; meanwhile, Chinese strategic imperatives hurt the long-term development of the Bolivian economy and stimulate the country's continued overreliance on its natural resources. Conclusion In short, there seems to be little 'comradery' between China and Bolivia, even though Evo Morales and his MAS party would be a perfect vehicle for Beijing to improve its standing in the country and the region. Diplomatically, there is little evidence that China attributes much value to its relationship with Bolivia; politically, China failed to support its ideological ally when they were ousted in a seemingly anti-leftist coup; and economically, China's hunger for natural resources and minerals supersedes any bilateral attempts to make the Bolivian economy more sustainable and equal. For years, some Bolivian NGOs and government critics have come to the same conclusion, fearing financial dependency and encroachment on state sovereignty. So what explains China's limited outreach to like-minded Bolivia? The most convincing explanations are simple. First, the Bolivian economy is small. According to the World Bank, it is the region's 16th economy (in GDP), smaller than Guatemala and Uruguay. Given Bolivia's relatively small population size, economic output is inherently limited. As a landlocked country, Bolivia is also less easily accessible for trade flows, especially in comparison to its neighbours on the Pacific coast. Thus, economically, Bolivia's use is limited to its abundance in natural resources, and it is clear that China did act on this, both in trade and investment. Second, there is not much room for ideology in contemporary Chinese foreign policy. While in Chinese diplomatic history there has been a period of a very ideological approach towards Latin America, namely the first two decades of the Mao era, it seems that the approach has now become very pragmatic. For the most part, engagement has to serve concrete purposes. Two of these have been mentioned above: safeguarding domestic security and drawing diplomatic allies away from Taipei. For the first, Bolivia has some use; for the second, it does not; hence special engagement with Bolivia is not necessary. This is also true for China's lack of response to the anti-leftist coup that removed Evo from power. Beijing has a tendency to refrain from interference in other country's domestic politics. Even on more impactful events China likes to stay muted—for example when it comes to the Burmese civil war or Haiti's state of lawlessness. Some of this is really based on conviction; but some of it is also pragmatic, as China is often willing to work with, for example, succesful coup leaders, when that serves its broader purposes. (China's cooperation with the Pinochet regime after the removal from power of Marxist leader Salvador Allende is an old, but good example.) Beijing has been rather consistent on this principle for a long time, and taking it into consideration, China's silence becomes more understandable. Finally (and maybe a bit hyperbolically), the lack of a special treatment of Bolivia by China, or some sort of socialist comradery between its leaders, can also be considered another piece of evidence that there is no ongoing Second Cold War between the U.S. and China, or at least not in the Americas. In any such conflict, Bolivia surely would be a target of both sides, but especially the Chinese. And while some argue that the U.S. Monroe Doctrine is back, not to keep the European colonial powers out of the Americas but to block growing Chinese presence in the U.S.' sphere of influence, such dynamics in the case of Bolivia are not evident. This does not mean that things cannot change. Evo Morales has announced his candidacy for the 2025 elections, and a new Evo government could mean a new chapter in the Bolivia—China relationship. But in 2023, little suggests that the Bolivian and Chinese share a special comradery.

Yesterday, the results of the parliamentary election in the Netherlands showed what already seemed to be brewing in the final few weeks before voting: a sharp turn to the right. While the liberal VVD remained a large party despite a heavy loss and the conservative NSC was the country's biggest newcomer in parliament since the beginning of the century, the election was dominated by the victory of right-wing PVV. For the first time, a far-right party gained more than twenty percent of the vote in the Netherlands. Understandably, it gained much international attention, and raised immediate concerns in Europe. Meanwhile, the left failed to score any significant success, shrinking considerably, despite a new fusion party of green and labour headed by prime ministerial candidate Frans Timmermans, an international heavyweight. This is nothing new, per se: the Netherlands has long been a country that is conservative and right-wing by majority, seemingly always to the surprise of foreigners. For the past thirteen years, the country has eeffectively been under control of one large party, headed by neoliberal prime minister Rutte (VVD). Most of the time, due to the coalition building that is required to govern, the VVD has been supported by other parties. They are preferably conservative, too, but electoral results often necessitated the liberals to work with more progressive actors. This time, a right-wing coalition (again) seems inevitable. Meanwhile, there has never been a left-wing coalition government in Dutch history. Despite the Netherlands objectively being one of the best countries in the world to live in, there is a certain unease within the country when it comes to the endurance of the current form of democracy. One part of this pertains to the politics: a lacking ability of parliamentarians to do their work (i.e., being able to monitor the cabinet’s governance and hold the government accountable for wrongdoing) and gridlock due to polarization. Another part is institutional: the inability of the government’s ministries and institutions, most notably the tax authorities (Belastingdienst), to implement changes and thus follow through on the wishes of parliament, especially because of the excessive complexity of tax and other systems. Unease about these two elements is widespread, and it is the reason why the ‘culture of governance’ (bestuurscultuur) played—nominally—such a significant part in the election campaign. But another problem of the current democracy is the electoral component. If anything, this parliamentary election has shown how the electoral process is not working properly anymore. This has two reasons. First, the process is probably too muddy. People vote for a party, but do not have much say over all the members of parliament that go along with that one vote, resulting in disconnect between voters and 'representatives'. It is why Pieter Omtzigt (NSC) proposes a partial electoral district system. Moreover, people vote for a party expecting its leader to be a prime ministerial candidate, resulting in a horse race election. This dynamic inevitably causes dissappointment, given that the Dutch system is not like the system of the U.S., where the presidential election is merely a binary choice between two candidates. This is why Omtzigt and others have proposed adding a leadership election, choosing the premier directly rather than indirectly. Second, this campaign has demonstrated how election campaigns in the Netherlands increasingly resemble the ways in which U.S. electoral politics are conducted. Most importantly, this means a conservative mediacracy that guidelines public opinion and mocks any serious and substantive debate about long-term plans for the country. The Holy Trinity of conservative media The power of media in electoral politics is not new, but it has changed. First, because of the emergence of social media: like in the last few elections, the ways in which party leaders were actively present on, and passively portrayed as on social media were very important. It is how, for example, Forum voor Democratie has become more and more popular amongst young Muslims, despite their leaders' xenophobic rhetoric. Second, there has now also emerged a combination of three influential conservative media which, during the campaign, showed its power of dominating the mediasphere. Together, they have had undeniable influence on the outcomes of the general election, and consequently the turn to the (far) right in the Netherlands. Even more, these media are not isolated: their contents are widely shared on social media, and key figures of these media are present in other media (especially talkshows) as well, further spreading their approach to the election. This 'Holy Trinity' of conservative media consists of daily newspaper De Telegraaf, broadcaster WNL, and opinion show Vandaag Inside of the commercial tv channel SBS6. As a simple observer (I am certainly not a political scientist), I have been surprised by the ways in which they were able to shape the public conversation and steer the general trends in the election. During the campaign, De Telegraaf stood out for its unrelenting assault on left-wing leader Timmermans and his GLPvdA party. As a conservative newspaper, this is not too surprising, but the frecuency of its negative publications on the left-wing party was remarkable nonetheless. Take, for example, the overview (below, left) of promoted articles on the paper’s digital front page, late October. Even more, the paper's political podcast, led by influential commentator Wouter de Winther, led every podcast episode (below, middle) during the campaign with an explanation why Timmermans and his party were failing. In this, De Winther's frequent schadenfreude was not so subtle. Moreover, De Winther—just like many other conservative commentators—has been a frequent guest in late-night talkshows, amplifying his well-known conservative bias. Unsurprisingly, De Winther during the campaign also starred as a frequent figurehead in WNL programs, as well as in Vandaag Inside. As such, De Telegraaf’s continuous negative rhetoric about GLPvdA reached a large audience, even beyond its large pool of readers. (To be clear: while De Winther is the most prominent exponent of the paper's bias, there are other, much more radical examples of this, too. This includes columnists Wierd Duk and Rob Hoogland, with the latter even threatening Timmermans in a July column (below, right).) Second, the conservative public broadcaster WNL this year became a dominant force in the world of Dutch television talkshows. This is especially true for Op1, the daily late-night talkshow that is a collective operation of multiple broadcasters. During Summer 2023, the progressive broadcaster BNNVARA left Op1, which meant that only conservative broadcasters remained as organizers of the talkshow, effectively resulting in a “right-wing turn” of the most important talkshow of the country. Not only is the conservative bias visible in the talkshow’s tendency to invite conservative politicians, it is also visible in its agenda-setting and lines of questioning. This is just as true for the other WNL-led talkshows—the daily morning shows (Goedemorgen Nederland), the Sunday show (WNL op Zondag), and the daily interview program on public radio (Sven op 1). Indeed, WNL has succeeded in taking over most of the public broadcaster's (NPO) talkshows, giving the NPO a determinedly more conservative flavour. There are ample concrete examples of the implications. For example, on the last Sunday before the election, in which (of course) VVD leader Yesilgöz was the main guest, a conservative commentator was allowed to trash Yesilgöz' main competitors, especially Timmermans, before giving the floor to the interviewer for a rather softball interview with Yesilgöz herself. This clear bias surprised political journalists. Taken together, the conservative WNL has an unhealthily large share in the opinion shows of the public channels on Dutch television. Third, these conservative talkshows on the public television channels have been supplemented by the Netherlands’ most popular television show, Vandaag Inside. Formerly a football talkshow, it has morphed into a general opinion show in which three permanent hosts sit at a table and express their opinion on everything—whether they are knowledgable about the subject or (as is more common) not. The members of the show are outspoken about their political inclinations, which are right-wing, giving the show another distinctly conservative flavour. Several analyses have demonstrated that the electoral preferences of the members of Vandaag Inside (especially its head-of-the-table, Johan Derksen) have an influence on public opinion, and perhaps even the outcomes of elections. Earlier this year, Derksen and co were big supporters of Caroline van der Plas (BBB), who subsequently won the provincial elections in March 2023. (In the lead-up to the election, a more moderate, temporary guest was cancelled after his first appearance at the show when he expressed criticism of Van der Plas.) During the campaign for this Fall's general election, Vandaag Inside made clear it no longer supported BBB, instead looking towards Yesilgöz more favourably. Even more, it trashed Timmermans (GLPvdA) while normalizing Wilders (PVV). Case in point: the Gamechanger Debate Vandaag Inside became even more political in the final two weeks of this campaign, when it not only hosted four party leaders in its show, but also organized an official election debate—the first on the SBS6 channel. It was led by the VI host, Wilfred Genee, and supplemented by an episode of VI directly following the debate, in order to review the performances of the invited party leaders. Ratings showed that the SBS6 debate was the campaign's most-watched debate, while the review afterwards was watched even more. During the final days of the campaign, opinion pollsters already drew the—problematic—conclusion that the debate was a ‘gamechanger’ in the dynamics of the electoral horse race. While it was a chaotic, substantively shallow debate, research showed that many viewers saw one clear winner: Geert Wilders (PVV), who had participated in a larger debate for the first time. Consequently, his party surged dramatically in the following opinion polls. Opinion pollster Maurice de Hond, not without his own controversies, stated that in the past few decades, he had rarely seen such a strong movement in voting preferences as that he had observed after the SBS debate. The debate, indeed, was pivotal in the rise of Wilders. But the debate was very flawed. It lacked proper, substantive debate; it was led by a presenter who had clearly adopted a crash-and-burn manner of moderating the debate, intervening so infrequently that discussions quickly devolved into unhelpful shouting matches. The host also declined to intervene whenever obvious mistruths were spoken or one of the party leaders bullied another. For a debate of such importance, however, the most important problem was its apparent bias towards two participants—the VVD and the PVV. While the attitude of SBS6's Vandaag Inside was already remarkably favourable towards the VVD and especially the PVV before the debate, the set-up of the debate raised additional questions. First, the moderator allowed a question of an audience member who turned out to be Frank van Gool (first image), a CEO of a controversial employment agency for migrant workers. Moreover, he is one of the biggest donors of the VVD; Yesilgöz had to admit Van Gool had her phone number. (Of course, there have been questions why Van Gool had gained permission to appear at the debate. It does not help that he is a donor of the debate moderator's radio show, too.) Van Gool used his allotted time wisely: after the moderator mentioned his donations to the VVD, he explained how good that party indeed was, before stating the advantages of labour migration (something, if anyone, he himself has profited of the most, not the migrants themselves). While the moderator did mention Van Gool's ties to the VVD before handing him the microphone, he did not intervene during his promotional talk. Afterwards, several party leaders stated their disapproval. The moderator was not done yet: when the debate turned to the issue of poverty, he allowed another audience member to speak. Explaining the difficulty of paying the yearly care deductible (eigen risico), she asked what the party leaders could do to help. When Timmermans explained his plans to gradually abolish the deductible—which, given his social democratic policy platform, supposedly were right up her ally—the woman was remarkably dismissive, shaking her head repeatedly, until Wilders took over. The woman appeared to be holding Timmermans responsible for the deductible policy, despite him not being part of the government for the past years; she was not receptive to his plans for helping her, either. Instead, when Wilders took over, she started nodding and applauding. Wilders said that he wanted to abolish the deductible "immediately", not gradually, while not offering an explanation how he would be able to do that. Instead, he transitioned into an ad hominem towards Timmermans for his retainer (wachtgeld), despite Wilders himself earning a big salary for decades as member of parliament. The audience applauded; Timmermans' proposal to slash the care deductible was completely overshadowed. The conduct of the woman raised eyebrows. And indeed, a few days after the debate, it became clear that she was a long-time PVV supporter who had previously met Wilders (at least once on a plane, heading to Hungary) and had publicly promoted candidates on the PVV list for the upcoming election. She was, in other words, not a neutral audience member, but someone for whom acting disapproval towards Timmermans and approval towards Wilders was politically motivated. And it worked: both her words directed against Timmermans and the subsequent personal attack by Wilders were widely spread on (conservative) social media, including in the Vandaag Inside aftershow, amplifying Wilders' success and stimulating his rise in the polls. The debate organizers later admitted that they knew beforehand of the woman's political affiliations, but "did not feel the need" to inform the tv audience. So who organized this debate, which was so pivotal in the campaign, besides SBS6/Vandaag Inside? For some reason it was produced by Jeroen Pauw, a well-known former talkshow host. Pauw himself appeared multiple times as a political commentator at talkshow tables during the campaign, while not actually being a political commentator, and repeatedly reviewed debates and talkshow appearances that he himself had produced. Perhaps even more problematically, Pauw's antipathy towards Timmermans (GLPvdA) is well-known, and he indeed did not shy away from trashing Timmermans multiple times during the campaign. As explained in a recent podcast on media dynamics, Pauw's frequent appearances as opinion maker on television during the campaign were dubious at best. In any case, his production and personal appearances fit right into the direction of the conservative media's Holy Trinity. Hilversum, we have a problem This collection of conservative media and its agenda-setting power is not necessarily problematic. What is problematic, however, is the absence of a balanced media environment in which the conservative media are balanced out by progressive media—say, an influential progressive talkshow, an unabashedly left-wing broadcaster, and a progressive equivalent of VI. There are some bland examples, but the truth is that those progressive forces in media seem to be afraid of being called out for their progressivism and accused of bias; and thus, they appear adamant to be even more critical of left-wing and progressive political actors in their attempt to seem unbiased and professional. This does not matter, of course: commentators, especially on social media, still accuse these media of being biased, which makes them even more concerned of appearing biased—a vicious cycle in which progressive media seemingly engage in a sort of self-censoring in order to appease right-wing activists. In effect, this causes a complete lack of balance in the media and opinion landscape, which tilts heavily towards right-wing political parties. It happened in 2019, when radical right-wing Forum voor Democratie became the country’s largest party in provincial elections; it happened in March 2023, when the right-wing, pro-farmer BBB floated towards massive electoral victory on a bed of positive media attention (news media only after the election began questioning what BBB actually wanted to do, and how); and now, it happened not only with the PVV, but also NSC, whose leader has been cynically called ‘Holy Peter’ for a reason—namely, the perfectly uncritical reception he received in the media for most of the campaign. And, at the same time, the negative reception of Timmermans caused resentment towards the left-wing leader to reach such proportions that strategic voters fled to the PVV in large numbers. When the conservative bias in the media is as influential as has been the case in this election cycle, it indeed resembles the rise of mediacracy. Without the Holy Trinity, Timmermans (and earlier, Sigrid Kaag (D66)) would not have been despised so obsessively; and without the Holy Trinity, Wilders would have not been so normalized and portrayed as 'moderate'. Without the large influence of the (uncritical) media, Omtzigt would not have been received so heroically. Yesilgöz would likely have had more trouble earlier on. This all is also a problem of quality, of course. Good, critical journalism has been rare throughout the campaign. It is questionable how well-informed voters' choices have been. This dynamic resembles the media environments in countries where Ropert Murdoch and his Fox network dominate, such as the United States and the United Kingdom. The likelihood of a Wilders government slashing the NPO budget would leave even more room for such a scenario in the Dutch mediasphere. It would further weaken the objective provision of information to the Dutch public, which, after all, is the NPO's reason to exist. This, then, would further embolden populist voices. As such, much work needs to be done. This needs to include an immediate re-assessment of the NPO and the current lack of ideological diversity in its talkshows. More broadly, there should be a serious discussion how to complement the conservative bias in media with stronger progressive voices, to guarantee balance. This, ultimately, is also to the benefit of the wider political spectrum, not just the left-wing electorate. A broad range of voices and space for substantive discussion, without a few influential opinion makers declaring their preferences or debates with biased audiences or producers, would make campaigns in the Netherlands more meaningful and useful. Less hype, more substance. Of course, this also means an end to the enormous influence of the country's three opinion pollsters, who very likely have caused more movement in this year's electorate than any politican was able to. The democratic value of their power is very debatable. Voters have to make proper decisions when voting. They have to reflect on their own ideology, their own vision for the country's future, and they have to make an effort to understand what the political parties have to offer them. This is how a representative democracy functions. In that dynamic, there does not need to be such space for conservative kingmakers.

The Hamas attack on Israel of 7 October 2023 holds international politics in a tight grip. Now, three weeks after the initial attack by Hamas, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) are seemingly still preparing for a ground operation in northern Gaza, while simultaneously engaging in crossfire with Hezbollah or affiliated militias in southern Lebanon and growing unrest in the West Bank. Negotiations are taking place to guarantee the continuous entry of humanitarian aid into Gaza, although Israel does not appear very willing to accomodate it. Meanwhile, the threat of regional escalation still looms. The possible bombing of a large hospital in Gaza—undoubtedly the greatest example of information warfare so far—greatly heightened tensions across the Middle East, from Turkey to Yemen. While I wrote last week that regional escalation seems unlikely, public pressure can sway governments' decision making. Of course, this is especially true in the cases of Iran and Lebanon, but governments in Cairo or Riyadh could also change their strategic calculus if anti-Israel anger expands. All the while, tension builds in anticipation of what Israel's invasion of the Gaza Strip will look like. In my previous post on the global dimensions of the Hamas—Israel conflict, I pointed out several complexities and unknowns of the regional involvement in the conflict, which are especially relevant given how complicated and dangerous the geopolitics of the Middle East are. Most specifically, I wrote about the roles of Iran and Russia. Their involvement remains to be examined and monitored. A few days ago, Kim Ghattas wrote an interesting analysis in The Atlantic, pointing out the caution of the Iranian government as it maneuvers the unexpectedly large success of the Hamas assault and the reputational fallout of Israel's subsequent attack on Gaza. At the same time, Iran-backed militias in recent days have been increasingly attacking U.S. military posts in Iraq and Syria, while the Houthi rebels in Yemen on 19 October also began launching missiles towards Israel. All these attacks are not yet of a very large scale, but seem to show an intent on the side of Iran's alliance to keep tensions high. Meanwhile, the military build-up of the U.S. in the region also continues. In other words, the regional complexities of alliances and proxies remain important to follow. At the same time, two weeks after the first week of Israel's response to the 7 October attack by Hamas, it is also good to take stock of the West's early response to the Hamas—Israel conflict. In my view, the West made a fundamental mistake by siding fully and "unapologetically" with the Israeli government during the first week of Israel's retaliation. The decision by the United States and most of the European Union to do so cannot but have big consequences for the West's standing in the rest of the world. It might also seriously hurt the West’s efforts to gain support in the rest of the world for Ukraine. Israel as a Western project Before turning to the West's current position in the conflict between Israel and Hamas, I do want to point out that it is very understandable that the West's approach towards Israel deviates from the approach of the rest of the world. After all, Israel is a Western project, most notably founded based on a desire to do justice to the Jewish people who endured so much suffering in the countries of the West—of course with the Holocaust as the most traumatic event of the twentieth century. It were Europeans who betrayed their Jewish compatriots, and it were Europeans who saw the need to seek a Jewish state. From this perspective, it was understandable to seek that Jewish state in the 'Holy Land' of the Torah, home to Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Nazareth. It was also very convenient that in the 1940s this Holy Land was in the de facto colonial possession of the British. Palestine was under British rule after the Ottomans were driven from the region in 1917-18. Eventually, the British Mandate was repealed in 1948, and the Yishuv—the original Jewish inhabitants of Palestine—declared an independent State of Israel, based on recommendations by the newly founded United Nations. The declaration of independence was followed by the displacement of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians and the invasion of the new Israeli territory by several Arab nations, who were strongly opposed to the U.N.'s accord for a Jewish state in Palestine. Israel's victory in the subsequent 1948-49 Arab—Israeli War resulted in maintenance of its U.N.-proposed territory. Palestinians were forced to relocate to Gaza and the West Bank. Gaza was occupied by Egypt and the West Bank was annexed by Jordan, until both were captured by Israel during the 1967 Six-Day War. Since then, the Palestinian territories have been under occupation by the Israeli state. In other words, the use of Palestine to settle the 'Jewish question' was understandable and convenient—from the Western perspective. The Arabs, of course, had nothing to do with the Holocaust, nor were they seriously involved in any debate about the foundation of a Jewish state in the middle of the Arab world. Arabs in the region, obviously first and foremost the Palestinians, felt betrayed by the British. But they lacked the hard power to prevent the West's decision, and so the Nakba happened: Palestinians were driven from their cities and villages, and Jewish settlers of the new Israeli state took their place. For this reason, the population of Gaza (the 'Gazans') consists for a large part of refugees, perhaps as much as two-third of all inhabitants of the Gaza Strip, a fact that is not acknowledged enough. But in the Western experience of the twentieth century, the Nakba and subsequent conflicts were side effects of a just cause. (This clearly is also the tragedy of the perennial Israel—Palestine conflict. On the one hand, Jewish people did not ask for centuries-long persecution and anti-Semitism that continues to this day. They did not ask for the Holocaust, and they did not ask for policies that resulted in Palestinian replacement and regional conflict. On the other hand, Palestinian people did not ask for British rule over their land (or Ottoman rule for that matter). They also did not ask, when the British left, for the creation of another Western state on their territory in their stead, one that in its culture and religion completely differed from most Palestinians. Nor did Palestinians, who just happened to live in what became Israel, ask for their expulsion from their own lands to facilitate another oppressed people. Sadly, this dynamic continues to this day: many Israelis did not ask for Netanyahu's extremist government; many Palestinians did not ask for Hamas' militancy.) The West follows Netanyahu Considering the West's historical involvement in Israel, its response to the Hamas attack on Israel on 7 October unsurprisingly showed a near-unanimous support for Israel, which lasted at least one week. In their earliest reactions, governments in North America and Europe tended to use phrases like "unwavering", "steadfast", "rock solid", and "unequivocal" support for Israel as it suffered through a day-long attack by Hamas fighters on Israeli settlements near Gaza. Leaders expressed their disgust and used terms like 'evil' to describe the violence committed by Hamas: British prime minister Rishi Sunak spoke of "unqualified support [for Israel] in face of evil", European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen described the attack as "an act of war [...] an ancient evil", and Joe Biden similarly characterized Hamas as a "pure, unadulterated evil [...] unleashed on this world."* "We will not ever fail to have her back." — Joe Biden on Israel, 7 October 2023 In addition, Western governments made clear their support for Israel's right to self-defense. Von der Leyen stated that "Europe stands with Israel" in its defense, while Sunak considered Israel's right to defend itself "absolute". Biden promised to "make sure that Israel has what it needs to [...] defend itself and respond to this attack." In the first days of the conflict, it was very clear what this self-defense entailed: securing Israeli kibbutzes, expelling remaining Hamas fighters from Israeli territory by either killing them or forcing them back into Gaza, and preventing Hamas missiles from impacting Israeli cities. At the same time, the IDF very rapidly began its aerial bombardment of Gaza. To me it is unclear how much support Israel actually received from the West for its airstrikes because most diplomacy happens behind closed doors, but in public statements Western government did not condemn any airstrikes executed by the IDF, even as the Palestinian death toll skyrocketed. At least publicly—and that is what matters for the purposes of this post—the West also seemed to be fully on board with Israel's narrative about the Hamas-Israel conflict. It shared the assessment that Hamas had terrorized Gaza before terrorizing Israel; that the attack by Hamas meant a threat to the very existence of the State of Israel; that the attack was anti-Semitic; and that Hamas now needed to be fully eradicated. And there is more. For example, several Western leaders including Biden and Timmermans have adopted Israel's (flawed) frame that "Hamas is ISIS". Others, like British foreign minister Cleverly, have gone along with the not-so-subtle justification of bombing schools and hospitals by emphasizing that Hamas uses innocent civilians as human shields. (Hence, the death of every Palestinian child by an Israeli bomb is not the fault of the Israeli bomber, but Hamas. This reasoning is obviously flawed. If a rational actor knows that the enemy may be located near countless innocent people, it would rule out mass bombardment.) Palestinians? Not now, please A few hours after Hamas initiated its attack on Israel, Dutch prime minister Rutte made his first public comments in response to questions by state broadcaster NOS. It is worth quoting his words here, in translation: "The images [out of southern Israel] are horrific and are also really unprecedented. May I add that they are also really degrading—the images that we just received. This morning, I had a phone call with the Israeli prime minister, Bibi Netanyahu, and told him that we condemn this attack, that we are behind Israel, and that we support Israel to resist against this and to protect itself. We have not often experienced that this conflict targets ordinary people... On the civilians in Israel. Obviously it is terrible when it targets soldiers, but in this case it also targets many normal Israelis, who live there, and are now confronted with the most horrific forms of an unprecedented explosion of violence. For that, it is required that Israel defends itself." The comments by Rutte capture quite well the European consensus in the first days of the conflict. He expresses his—understandable—anger about Hamas' violence, as well as support for a diplomatic ally, and he reiterates Israel's right (or here, need) to defend itself. But it is also telling for Rutte's belief that "[w]e have not often experienced that this conflict targets ordinary people". That claim is not true, unless Rutte excludes Palestinians as 'ordinary' people. According to the U.N., more than 6,400 Palestinians were killed by Israel in the last fifteen years, including more than 1,400 children. More than 152,000 Palestinians were injured in the same time period. Rutte's comment may have been a slip of the tongue, but it reveals a neglect of Palestinian suffering that was visible in the wider Western response during the earliest period of this conflict. This began as early as the first weekend of the Hamas attack, when some Western leaders were asked about Israel's initial response. Rutte and several others were questioned about proportionality: at what point does the right to Israeli self-defense end? The answer was clear: Rutte, Sunak, and Von der Leyen repeated their position that a ‘yes, but’ would be inappropriate; the ‘yes’ referred to their support for Israel and its assault on Gaza, the ‘but’ referred to questions about proportionality and adherence to international law. Now that Israel had suffered through the deadliest attack on Jews since the Holocaust, said Rutte, it would be the wrong time to question the limits of Israel's response. It meant a de facto carte blanche for a thorough and violent retaliation, which quickly cost the lives of countless Palestinians in Gaza. The problematization of 'yes, but' is an interesting frame, because most journalists, activists, and international organisations were not asking for a 'yes, but' at all. Instead, they were looking for a ‘yes, and’: we support Israel and we demand it complies with international law. This became Europe’s position last week, but was completely missing in the first two weeks of the conflict. The problem of 'yes, but' is that it totally ignored the Palestinian people. As the European governments appeared unwilling to criticize Israel after 7 October, this meant that they similarly were unwilling to stand for the Palestinian people in Gaza and their needs. Western discomfort to properly stand up for the Palestinians is still visible. (Ireland and Spain stand out as exceptions.) The West has found it difficult to explicitly condemn war crimes or violations of international law committed by Israel. Its response to Israel blocking humanitarian aid, water, food, and fuel from Gaza was extremely muted, as was its reluctance to condemn airstrikes on refugee camps and hospitals. Most Western governments reacted similarly when Israel bombed targets in other countries, or when the Israeli Minister of National Security began distributing automatic weapons to illegal settlers on the West Bank. Moreover, the West has found it difficult—and has mostly rejected the opportunity—to place the attack of Hamas and Israel’s reponse in a broader historical context, which asks for an urgent end to Israeli oppression of Palestinian territories and the proclamation of an independent Palestinian state. Within Europe and the United States, governments have also gone far in their attempts to mute the Palestinian voice in public debate. Several European governments targeted pro-Palestine protests, including Hungary, Germany, France, and the United Kingdom, which drew concern from human rights organisations and organisations that monitor freedom of speech. In the U.S., broadcaster MSNBC removed three Muslim reporters from its programming for several days, although the network denied this. And throughout the West, governments did little to prevent Israel from advertising their war propaganda on social media and in gaming apps. These actions indicate little inclination to put the suffering of the Palestinian people, as well as the injustice and irresponsibility of Israel's assault on Gaza, front and center in Western diplomacy. This sets the West apart from the rest of the world. International backlash to the West's response The way in which Western governments approached the conflict between Hamas and Israel in the first week has had serious implications for the West's image in large parts of the world, but especially the MENA region. It is important that the West understands that it is in the minority when it comes to the issue of Israel and Palestine. It is also important that the West understands that for a large part, it is substantively wrong on the issue of Israel and Palestine. The inconsistency of the Western argument is an open invitation for others to call out Western hypocrisy. Here, I have listed six perceptions about the West’s position in the Hamas–Israel conflict. They show a view of global history that is shared by much of ‘the Rest’, but not recognized by the West itself. Many countries, especially former colonies, see much of global events still through the prism of postcolonialism. In this context, this means that (1) they do not like the former colonial powers telling them what to do or what to think, and (2) they are eager for a new world order and forms of global governance that are reflective of the postcolonial world, with more equality amongst states and (thus) less Western dominance. Consequently, Israel is seen by many as an oppressor state. It was founded by colonial powers, which led to the expulsion of the Palestinian people from their land. Since then, Israel not only behaved as a colonizer—especially through its annexation policies on the West Bank, but also through its treatment of people in the Gaza Strip—but was also supported by its ‘fellow colonizers’ in doing so. This causes resentment in the rest of the world, especially amongst Arab states and former colonies. They share a colonial experience and see strong parallels with the current punishment of the ‘colonized’ Palestinians. In this, the West is complicit: it fails to push Israel towards a diplomatic solution and rejects criticism of the history of the State of Israel, often framing it as anti-Semitic or anti-Zionist. In other words, the colonial frame hurts the West’s standing as is continues to support Israel in what is viewed as a colonial project. Related to the colonial narrative is a strong belief that the West, which has dominated world politics for such a long time, feels superior and can ignore the rules when necessary. The Israeli compare the Hamas attack to the September 11th, 2001 attack on the United States. Following that analogy, how did the Americans respond to the attack by Al Qaeda? George W. Bush proclaimed an Axis of Evil, existing not of Al Qaeda but of Iran, Iraq, and North Korea; his government fabricated evidence to justify a war of revenge in Iraq; and his government invaded both Iraq and Afghanistan, leading to the deaths of countless innocent civilians and decades-long military occupation. Much of the U.S. response to 9/11 was in violation of international law, and it received little international support. Europeans may not connect the dots between the U.S.’ punishment of Iraq and Afghanistan and Israel’s punishment of Palestine, but the rest of the world certainly does. They see a pattern of unsanctioned military invasions that are initiated after an attack by a non-state actor, without proper consultation of the rest of the world and without sufficient regard of international law and human rights. The West’s almost unanimous support for Israel and its relative silence on the suffering of the Palestinian people in the first week of the conflict made it appear biased. This indeed was how it was perceived by much of the Rest. On 24 October, Queen Rania of Jordan said the following in an interview with CNN: “[...] we are just shocked and disappointed by the world's reaction to this catastrophe that is unfolding. In the last couple of weeks we have seen a glaring double standard in the world. When October 7th happened, the world immediately stood by Israel and its right to defend itself, and condemnded the attack that happened. But what we are [also] seeing is silence in the world; countries have stopped expressing concern or acknowledging the casualties [in Gaza] but always with a preface with a declaration of support for Israel. Are we being told that it is wrong to kill a family at gunpoint, but it is okay to shell them to death? There is a glaring double standard here, and it is just shocking to the Arab world. This is the first time in modern history that there is such human suffering and the world is not even calling for a ceasefire. The silence is deafening and to many in our region, it makes the Western world complicit through their support for Israel.” Queen Rania's comments provide good insight in the response of the Arab world to the West's support for Israel. The damage is great, but how large it is exactly, and how long it will endure, is uncertain. However, if Arabs believe that the Western world shares direct responsibility for the atrocities committed in Palestinian territories and believe that the Western world chose not to use its power and influence to prevent a ground invasion in the Gaza Strip, then I do not see how the U.S. or E.U. would restore confidence in any way for a long time. And then there is Ukraine. Ever since February 2022, the North Americans and Europeans have been working diplomatically to convince the rest of the world that it is important to condemn Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and support the Ukrainians in their defense. After the West's unconditional support for Israel in the first weeks of the Hamas—Israel conflict, however, the Rest sees the West’s support of Israel as inconsistent. Why would Europe condemn Russia’s war crimes, but not Israel’s? Why would Europe support Ukraine’s right to self-defense, but not Palestine’s? Why does the West make such an effort to defend the territorial claim of the Ukrainian people (to Donbas and Crimea), but make no similar effort to defend the territorial claim of the Palestinian people (to Gaza and the West Bank)? This inconsistency not only hurts the West’s general image, but it also threatens all diplomatic efforts to convince other parts of the world to support Ukraine in the Russia–Ukraine War. (This is already happening. Last week, E.U. diplomats expressed concern about the implications of the E.U.’s position in the Hamas–Israel conflict for the world’s support for Ukraine.) Conclusion In the third week of the conflict, there has been some damage control by the West. The European Union has increased its humanitarian aid for Gaza, after Von der Leyen’s initial unconditional support for Israel; the United States has begun questioning Israeli leadership for its plans in Gaza, after Biden’s initial carte blanche for the IDF; and pro-Israeli leaders like Rutte have changed their rhetoric, changing their complete support for Israel into the ‘yes, but’ that they previously condemned. The West has also engaged in much diplomatic activity, both in bilateral meetings in the Middle East and in the multilateral peace summit in Egypt, which took place on 21 October. But the damage has been done. Governments all over the world—from Brazil to Turkey and from Jordan to South Africa—have condemned the West’s position as Israel’s assault on Gaza increased and its violations of international law grew in number. Not only Iran, but also Russia and China have amplified the criticism by placing the West’s failure in a broader narrative of a Western-led world order that no longer works. It seems that there is much fertile ground for their narrative in many places, especially in the Arab world, where protesters have not only targeted Israel, but also Western countries—especially the United States—by burning flags and surrounding embassies. The conflict is ongoing, and if a ground invasion were indeed to happen, it might even expand dramatically. This means that there is still every reason for the West to try to recover from its mistakes at the beginning of the Hamas–Israel conflict. In this, the U.S. might be a lost cause: domestic politics make it very difficult for the government to change its position, and the current political elite (including Biden) seems unwilling to deviate from its strong pro-Israel position. If the E.U. wants to make a dent in international politics and polish its global image, the current efforts on damage control are not sufficient. European leaders have to acknowledge the European roots of the current conflict and express this understanding publicly. They should support the Israeli people, but push back against the Netanyahu government. They should support the Palestinian people and their right to statehood, but push back against the militants of Hamas. And they should allow an internal debate, giving room to the pro-Palestinian parts of society instead of treating them with undeserved suspicion. In recent years, several European countries have become more open to acknowledging their history in colonialism and slavery. This trend should be continued. The ways in which the West dominated the world for centuries and the violent implications of this dominance for the rest of the world have been a taboo for too long. While it is understandable that Europeans want to defend the idea of an Israeli state, they cannot do so without conceding that the transfer from the British Mandate to a U.N.-backed State of Israel in 1948 was dubious at best, and that agency of the (Muslim) Palestinians was wrongfully neglected. They should also concede that in the last few decades, the West has not done enough to curtail Israel’s extremists policies in Gaza and the West Bank. This honesty is required for the European Union to keep up with a changing world in which the Rest is no longer inferior to the West. But this honesty has to go along with concrete actions, as the Rest’s anger about the West’s position in the current conflict has shown. If North American and European governments do not join the calls for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and reconsider their aid to the Israeli military in its ongoing occupation of Palestinian territory, it will damage their credibility greatly. And as Western governments are preoccupied with international conflicts elsewhere, the consequences of the West’s position on Israel could reverberate far beyond the Middle East, in Ukraine and in the South China Sea. This should be a fundamental consideration in the approach of Western governments going forward. * The comments about 'ancient evil' may refer to anti-Semitism. Both in Israel and in the West, the attack by Hamas is considered anti-Semitic in nature. At the same time others, including pro-Palestinian activists in the West, reject that frame and attribute the attack more to anti-colonialism and Palestinian nationalism. In this way, they also disagree with the idea that the attack constitutes a pogrom. Personally, I think anti-Semitic sentiments played a significant role in the attack, but also agree that other motivations have played a role in Hamas militancy.

The Hamas attack on Israel of 7 October 2023 holds international politics in a tight grip. Now, a few days after the initial attack by Hamas, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) have largely expelled Hamas fighters from Israeli territory. Seemingly, the conflict at this moment mainly consists of artillery fire in both directions. Of course, there is still a minor threat of Hezbollah entering the conflict from the north, establishing a serious multi-front attack on Israel. Yet currently, the conflict is all about Israel’s retaliation. It has begun an endless bombardment of Gaza, especially Gaza City, in which more than 2,700 civilians have died—a death toll that surely will rise much more if a ground invasion takes place. Amongst the victims are more than one thousand children, a staggering amount, as well as countless parademics and other first responders, including UN personnel. Estimates suggest that, as of 16 October, more than 45 entire families have been killed by Israeli bombs—complete bloodlines, eradicated by bombardments on apartment buildings, hospitals, schools, and refugee camps. Together with the blockade of food, water, medicine, and electricity into Gaza and the confirmed use of forbidden weapons like white phosphorus, these actions constitute clear war crimes committed by a state actor. (The importance of this cannot be overstated. Both the Israeli military’s war crimes and the Israeli state's human rights violations have been well-documented for years. Now that the IDF appear to be free from any guardrails under Netanyahu’s radical right-wing government, which is uttering genocidal language, no red lines seem to have been drawn. These missing lines apparently are also geographical, as Israel has bombed Syrian airports and parts of southern Lebanon, in which at least one Reuters journalist was murdered.) It begs the question how long the international community will tolerate the IDF’s excesses, now that the principal threat seems eradicated and its actions are meeting a global audience. While attention is on the atrocities committed by Hamas and the increasing assault on Gaza by the IDF, the roles played by important regional and global actors, ranging from the United States in support of Israel to Iran in support of Hamas, also deserve scrutiny. The developments in Israel give a strong sense that there has been a lot going on, behind the curtains, on a state level. There are enormous interests in the Israel–Palestine conflict, and broader in the Middle East: it is one of the most complex and important geopolitical regions in the world, if not the most. For many states, the stakes are high. Personally, I make two observations, which I will describe in two separate posts. First, I assume that many things have been going on behind the ‘geopolitical curtain’. There are still numerous unknowns. They range from the question why the Egyptian government publicly claimed it warned Netanyahu days before the attacks took place to the question how and why Russia and Wagner were involved in Hamas' preparations. Second, I think the West made a fundamental mistake by siding fully and unapologetically with the Israeli government, even after it expelled Hamas fighters from its territory and now continues its vindictive assault on Gaza. This cannot but have big consequences for the West’s standing in the rest of the world. It might also seriously hurt the West’s efforts to gain support in the global South for Ukraine. The complexity of the Middle East The Middle East is a very complex region. It consists of a wide range of religions and political systems, which all to different degrees make states either allies or enemies. The region is home to several long-term conflicts in which all regional actors have their own interests. Most importantly, there is the perennial hostility between Saudi Arabia and Iran, which dominated the region ever since the 1970s (read this book)—a predominantly religious conflict between the region’s leading Shia power, Iran, and its leading Sunni (and Wahhabi) power, Saudi Arabia. The regional Muslim schism between Shiism and Sunnism was also evident in the devastating Syrian civil war and the Yemeni civil war, with the latter being commonly considered a proxy conflict between the Houthis (Iran) and Yemen (Saudi Arabia). Only recently, in March 2023, there have been signs of a serious rapprochement between the Saudis and the Iranians, when China got both sides to agree to a renormalization accord. The current conflict does not involve a schism between Iran and Saudi Arabia. In fact, they now share something that transcends the Sunni–Shia divide: anti-Zionism. Because if the Arab world was not complicated enough, the foundation of the State of Israel after the Second World War made the region’s politics even more layered. For decades, the new Israeli state lacked friendly relations with others in the region, and its very existence frequently caused tensions in the Middle East. While the United States under Trump and Biden has begun pushing for normalization accords between Israel and Arab states, both in an attempt to safeguard Israeli interests and impede Iran’s regional ambitions, these Abraham Accords are not much more than financial incentives for Arab states to tolerate Israel’s existence. Bahrain, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, and others were promised lucrative arms sales by Washington, and saw opportunity for trade with the Israelis. Durable, ideological peace accords they are thus not. Israel, as a Jewish state, remains a thorn in the side of most of its regional neighbours. Tellingly, on 12 October, the Iranian President and the Saudi Crown Prince for the first time had a phone call—a milestone development in the bilateral relationship, and for a very long time unthinkable. It would not have happened without them sharing Israel as a common foe. Of these two states, it appears that Iran’s agency in the current Hamas–Israel conflict is much more significant. Unlike the Saudi kingdom, Iran is a direct sponsor of Hamas, one of the many organisations and fighting groups in Palestine, Syria, Lebanon, and Iraq that is supported financially and materially by Tehran. It also holds significant sway over Hezbollah, with many analysts referring to Hezbollah as the "proxy of Iran". In Iran's anti-Zionist project, Hezbollah's position at the Israel—Lebanon border is very helpful, as such controlling militant groups both to Israel's north and south. Iran praised the Hamas attack immediately on 7 October, congratulating the organisation for its "anti-Zionist resistance". On 14 October, Iran's Foreign Minister met with the political chief of Hamas in Doha. Besides expressing his support for Hamas and the people of Gaza, he also warned Israel that "[i]f the Israeli regime’s crimes in Gaza continue, any possibility in the region is likely, and the Islamic Republic of Iran will continue its attempts to halt Israeli war crimes." On the same day, Axios reported that Iran through the U.N. had warned Israel that it would intervene militarily if Israel’s attack on Gaza would continue. Some analysts have suggested, however, that if Iran coordinated the attack together with its proxies, Iran's objectives may have already been achieved. For that reason, it would not be inclined to further escalate the conflict. After all, Iran has been highly worried about the Abraham Accord that was being negotiated between Israel and Saudi Arabia, arguing that the Saudis would "betray" the Palestinians through such a deal. Not only that, it would also unite two of Iran's enemies, strengthen Israel's position in the Middle East, and it would increase U.S. influence in the region. The Hamas attack succeeded in thwarting the Saudi—Israeli negotiations, delivering Iran its strategic win. Still, the exact degree of Iran’s involvement in the preparations for the Hamas attacks is unclear. The Washington Post reported a day after the assault that the Iranians helped plan the attacks for weeks, and that Iran’s Republican Guard “gave the final go-ahead [during a Hamas–Iran meeting] in Beirut.” This was supported by multiple geostrategic analyses. Since then, however, many reports have contradicted the story. The U.S. and Israeli governments have also indicated that they have seen no evidence of Iran’s direct involvement in Hamas’ preparations. To the contrary, their findings suggest that Tehran was "surprised" by the attacks. It thus remains a big question to what extent Iran's strategic calculations were part of the 7 October assault. Notwithstanding this uncertainty, Iran's agency in the conflict is undisputed. It truly is behaving as a regional power. An additional question, then, would be if there has been coordination between Iran and other sympathizers of Hamas' attack on Israeli territory. How about Qatar, for example, which is an important financial donor of the organisation? And what coordination took place between Iran and its ally Syria? President Assad in October 2022 met with a Hamas delegation, setting in motion a bilateral rapprochement. In the Hamas–Israeli conflict, little seems to move without Iran playing a part in it. Hezbollah and the risk of regional escalation Iran, Syria, Qatar, and other regional actors are very unlikely to get directly involved in the conflict between Hamas and Israel. As noted, Iran's main objectives have been reached. Even more, every day that Israel continues its assault on Gaza, especially when it would decide to launch a ground invasion, would weaken its military, its societal cohesion, and its international standing, to Tehran's perceived benefit. (Some even suggest that Israel's retaliation is part of Hamas and Iran's master plan to damage Israel's global reputation and make it an international pariah.) Syria is too chaotic and unprepared to assist Hamas directly, and would not want to risk renewed international isolation; Qatar would not risk its relationship with the United States or other partners by directly engaging with the Israeli. In other words, interstate conflict at this point is not likely. Dramatic developments would first have to happen to change its likelihood—for example, mass casualties during the IDF's invasion of Gaza, or Israeli attacks on Iranian territory. Meanwhile, questions remain about the objectives of Hezbollah, which is the biggest trump card the anti-Israel alliance in the region has to play. Founded in the early 1980s, Hezbollah's militant wing holds significant sway over parts of Lebanon and has been an active part of the pro-Assad coalition in the Syrian civil war. Meanwhile, its political wing holds seats in Lebanon's parliament and has significant influence in the Lebanese government. Hezbollah's military is considered very powerful, its militants well-trained, and its reserves well-stocked with Russian and Iranian supplies. It is much stronger than Hamas. It is thus for good reason that in the first weekend of the attack, Israelis were very fearful of Hezbollah joining Hamas’ war. It would mean a two-front war and echo the traumatic Yom Kippur War of 1973. Then, Israel was surprised by an attack from its north and south by Syria and Egypt, respectively; only just was the IDF able to repel the assault. Now, it is uncertain if Hezbollah is willing to go all-out and fully join Hamas. It would hurt Israel, but it would also undoubtedly lead to a fierce responce of the U.S. military, which is already gathering in the region. The inevitable subsequent bombing of cities like Beirut would be catastrophic for a country that is already considered a mostly failed state. Egypt's transparency about Israel's intelligence failure Another question pertains to the role Egypt plays, or is willing to play, in the conflict. Egypt inevitably has agency—not only for the border it shares with both Israel and the Gaza Strip, but also for its geopolitical and military clout in MENA. Two actions by the Egyptian government stood out this week. First, it has denied Gazans entry into its territory, and has shown little intent to support the Palestinian people living in the Gaza Strip who have nowhere else to go. (At the same time, Palestinians are understandably afraid that a lucrative deal with Cairo will be made by Israel and the U.S. in order to expel them from Gaza, which to them would constitute a second Nakba.) Even more, Egypt is working to reinforce its border with Gaza. For el-Sisi, it is very unattractive to allow two million Palestinians to flee to its territory, especially given that Egypt already is home to eight million migrants from the region. It remains to be seen, however, if Cairo can maintain this position when Israel's ground offensive brings even more violence to Gaza. Second, it was remarkable how the Egyptian government has publicly acknowledged that its intelligence agency warned Netanyahu in advance of the Hamas attack, even including the claim that Netanyahu shrugged off this warning. Israel, of course, denied Egypt’s claims. There is no way of knowing what really happened. Still, it is the most direct claim of the Israeli prime minister being warned beforehand of an impending attack so far, and if confirmed, it would be something Netanyahu could impossibly shake off. It is also unclear if Egypt had any ulterior motive by making its intelligence and Israel’s response public. As noted in many analyses, the conflict between Hamas and Israel has put el-Sisi in a difficult position. On the one hand, Egypt has close ties with Palestine, and its relations with Hamas have also been improving in the last decade. On the other hand, it has crucial security ties with both Israel and the United States. Egypt is one of Washington's top recipients of military aid ever since its peace deal with Israel after the Yom Kippur War. It also cooperates with Israel in intelligence sharing. Thus, the Egyptian government will certainly attempt to avoid a situation in which it has to choose between the pro-Palestine and pro-Israel camps. Russia as the foreign kingmaker This post looked at some of the regional actors. However, such an overview cannot leave out Russia, which has been deeply involved in Middle Eastern geopolitics for a long time. Its role in the Syrian civil war—or better, its countless war crimes—is especially notorious. And when it comes to the fight between Israel and Hamas, a conflict in which there seem to be only losers, Russia certainly seems to be winning a lot. Ever since Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, it has detached itself from 'norm-based' international politics and pursued a foreign policy that only serves its self-interest. This was also true before, either by invading other sovereign countries (Georgia in 2008, Ukraine in 2014), by interfering in foreign elections (U.S. in 2016), or by extrajudicially killing Russians on foreign territory (U.K. in 2018), but it has only become more brazen since its isolation from the West in 2022. Now, the baseline is as simple as it is malign: sow international division and create chaos that diverts attention from Ukraine. Russia's support for Assad, Hezbollah, and now Hamas fits right in this strategy. Not only has the Hamas attack succesfully diverted the West's (financial) attention from Ukraine to the Middle East; it also weakens Israel, the U.S.' key partner in the region, sows division in Western societies, and it pits the (mostly pro-Israel) West against the (mostly pro-Palestine) global South. Sure enough, Vladimir Putin quickly condemned Israel's attack on Gaza, stating that the "core interests" of the Palestinian people should be taken into account. He also blamed the current conflict on Washington's Middle East policies. There is no doubt Russia's position will go down well in large parts of the world, including MENA. (Not coincidentally, Putin happened to make his comments during a meeting with the Iraqi prime minister.) Similar to Iran, the involvement of Russia in the preparations for the Hamas attack are not clear. Iran's connection with Hamas is much stronger. Still, last year, FM Sergey Lavrov met Hamas leadership in Moscow, and Russia has been diplomatically engaging with the other partners in Hamas' alliance as well: Hezbollah, Syria, and Iran itself. Overt and covert support for pro-Iran militant groups in the region has been modus operandi for the Russians for a long time, especially during the periods of heavy fighting in the Syrian civil war. It is also highly convenient how the Hamas attack coincided with a large-scale offensive of the Russian army around Avdiivka, also in the weekend of 7 October, to which now only few people paid attention. Additionally, it coincided with an ongoing debate in the U.S. about the continuation of financial and material support for the Ukrainian military; now that U.S. lawmakers will want to send aid to Israel, Ukrainians are worried about their own prospects. Still, besides some reports about Wagner training Hamas fighters before their attack and Russian support in cyberattacks on Israel, there so far is little evidence putting direct blame on Russia for what happened on 7 October. It is no secret that Russian leadership sees much of contemporary world politics as a proxy fight between itself and the West, and it considers many instruments legitimate in such a fight. Moreover, many conflicts that are currently brewing are actively stimulated by Moscow, whether it is the unrest in the Sahel, the threat of conflict between Serbia and Kosovo, or the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan (in which Azerbaijan's Aliyev now threatens a full invasion of Armenia, bolstered by the absence of Russian peacekeeping forces around Nagorno Karabakh). For this reason, Russia's agency in the preparations of Hamas for its attack on Israel should not be out of the question and remain an important piece in understanding how Hamas was so succesful in its attack on Israel. Conclusion The Middle East is a complicated region, and so are its conflicts. The perennial conflict between Israel and Palestine is unique for the ways in which it evokes emotions all over the world and involves so many members of the region. When an escalation in the conflict occurs, as happened with last week's Hamas attack on Israel and Israel's subsequent assault on Gaza, it inevitably begs the question which roles key actors in the region play. Above, I highlighted (1) Iran's big role as an established regional power, (2) coordination efforts between Iran's proxies, including Hezbollah's potential involvement, (3) the issue of financial and material support from Syria and Qatar, (4) the role of intelligence and Egypt's statements on the issue, and (5) Russian activity in the conflict. I also indicated that there are still many things unclear about what happened, what is happening, and what is going to happen. Although the motives of most actors are clear, it is unclear to what degree they are willing to act upon them. There are numerous analyses that see the Israel–Hamas conflict as either a proxy war between the United States and Russia, between the United States and Iran, or both. I am not in favour of shifting to ‘proxy warfare’ narratives too quickly, because it erases local agency and makes it easy to ignore local historical and political complexities. At the same time, the conflict between Israel and Palestine is so globalized that it is uniquely positioned to act as an instrument of proxy warfare, at least in a 'West versus East' conflict. As noted before, there are enough actors who benefit from making the conflict a proxy, mostly Russia and Iran. This means that the ways in which the West (i.e., the European Union and the United States) operates during the conflict is very important. Unfortunately, they have made a serious mistake in their approach towards Israel and Palestine in the past week. I will discuss that mistake and its implications in my next post.

The large-scale attacks by Hamas from Gaza into Israel have made a global impact. The violence was unexpected, and its scope has been shocking. Hundreds of Israeli citizens have been murdered; buildings and infrastructure have been destroyed. Most attention has been paid to a festival massacre, close to the Gaza border, in which hundreds of people were killed by an early assault of Hamas fighters. Likely hundreds of Israeli soldiers and civilians, including foreigners, have been abducted and taken back to Gaza. As more becomes known of their identities, it seems that amongst them is a significant number of Americans and British nationals, as well as Southeast Asian workers who have been killed or abducted, including Thai and Nepali. As of Monday, fighting is still ongoing, as the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) are trying to clear Israeli territory from Hamas fighters. At the same time, high numbers of rockets are still being launched, both from Israel into Gaza and vice versa. The unprecedented mobilization of 300,000 Israeli reservists suggests that the Netanyahu government may be planning a large-scale military operation, as such potentially escalating the conflict even further. There are many questions how the Netanyahu government, a new, extreme right-wing coalition, did not see this assault coming. Supported by the powerful Mossad, the Israeli government would be expected to know of any attack of such scale. This is especially true if, as many analyses have immediately suggested, Hamas had international support for its operation. How would such an elaborate coordination manage to stay under Israel’s radar? And how about Benjamin Netanyahu’s role? It is telling that both media and politicians in Israel have already put (partial) blame for the violence on the prime minister. An editorial in Haaretz immediately blamed Netanyahu directly, writing that “the disaster that befell Israel on the holiday of Simchat Torah is the clear responsibility of one person: Benjamin Netanyahu.” Israel’s intelligence failure also raises the question what the coming days and weeks will bring—in other words, what else the Israelis may have missed. Especially worrying are analysts’ concerns that Hezbollah or even other state actors like Iran or Afghanistan could become involved in this conflict, escalating it into a regional war that would threaten the very existence of the state of Israel. In any case, the attacks will have an enormous impact on Israeli politics and society, which were already quite unstable and polarized this year. Responses from other governments in the region and throughout the world have come quickly. That is not surprising, not only given the magnitude of the attack, but also given the important and sometimes almost divine status that Israel has been given in the West. I want to briefly explain my thoughts on this international response on the situation in Israel. Problems in current discourse First of all, most of the statements made by governments around the world are as expected. Mostly, they call for an immediate ceasefire, return of Israeli hostages from Gaza, and a peace process at the negotiation table. There are some logical but noteworthy differences in tone between governments’ statements, however. European and North American governments express “full solidarity” and “full support for the right to defend itself” for Israel, calling the Hamas attack “unprecedented” or even “unprovoked”. Others, including the African Union and Brazil, pay much more attention to the root causes of the attack, denouncing Israel’s decades-long occupation of Palestinian territory and the de facto imprisonment of Palestinians living in the Gaza Strip. It is not difficult to observe that countries in the global South tend to support Palestine, especially those that have undergone a decolonial struggle themselves. In the discourse about the Hamas­–Israel conflict—both by governments and people—there are a few things that stand out to me. They have been summarized in the illustration. First, choice of words matters, especially in the context of a tense conflict that evokes many emotions amongst many people. Since the Hamas attack began on Saturday, there have been countless phallacies, frames, and misphrasings that do not contribute to any serious discourse about the Palestine–Israel conflict and the reasons behind the current violence. As an important example, ‘Hamas’ is not the same as ‘Palestine’. Hamas is an organization that has been recognized as a terrorist group by the European Union and the United States; Palestine is a nation that has been recognized as state by an overwhelming majority of countries. Barely half of the Palestinian people support Hamas, and it is likely that they would prefer other political representation—if there were any good alternatives. Hamas’ violence is not supported by most Palestinians, who are primary victims of this violence themselves; similarly, they know the current Hamas attack will cause extreme harm to the Palestinian community in Gaza once Israel’s retaliation fully commences. Thus, there should be a clear distinction between ‘Hamas’ and ‘Palestine’. (There are too many other problematic frames in current discourse to mention here. They include the notion that pro-Palestinian sentiment equals anti-Zionism and antisemitism or, for that matter, that anti-Zionism equals antisemitism. Frames like these are not only false, but they sabotage any normal discussion, quite similar to the Godwin.) Second, while the attack on Israeli civilians is horrific and unjustifiable, this should not draw away attention from the decades-long suffering of Palestinians, especially in Gaza. As I noted before, this is what most non-Western government statements have done: while acknowledging that the Hamas attacks are wrong, they point out that the root cause of this violence is the perennial suffering of the Palestinian people. It is a mistake that the West does this so little. While Dutch PM Rutte did acknowledge the suffering of Palestinian people in his early statements, he only mentioned this in the context of Hamas’ terror, leaving out Israel’s oppression of Palestine. In a not-so-coherent interview on Monday, Minister for Justice and Peace Yesilgöz stated that “now would not be the time” to talk about Israel’s expansionism under Netanyahu, nor would it be “appropriate” to criticize Israel’s military response to Hamas. This Israel-centric discourse in the West will not stimulate a constructive effort for a balanced peace process between Israel and Palestine or Hamas. Instead, it is necessary to acknowledge violence on both sides, and see such violence in the right proportions. To understand the Hamas attacks, anger in Palestine, and support for both Hamas and Palestine in the entire MENA region, there indeed has to be an acknowledgement of the ways in which the Israeli government has terrorized the Palestinian people. International criticism of Israel’s killing of Palestinian children, the murder of the American-Palestinian journalist Shireen Abu Akleh, and continued expansion of illegal settlements on the West Bank has been disturbingly muted—and there is so much more. It is, as someone summarized, as if “Israelis are actively killed,[ while] Palestinians just magically die.” Palestinians, especially in Gaza, are understandably desparate. This can have large consequences that extend beyond Gaza’s borders, especially when some of those in Gaza radicalize and become part of extremist, violent organizations, like Hamas. It is part of the reason why the current decision by the European Union, as well as Germany and Austria, to suspend financial support for Palestine in response to the Hamas attack is so wrong; amidst Israel’s oppression, the West should support Palestinians as much as it can, and not punish them for the actions of Hamas.* (And again, Hamas and Palestine are not the same. At least PM Rutte understood this when explaining the Dutch government’s continued financial support for Palestine, underscoring that “the Netherlands does not finance Hamas.”) Palestine’s wider anticolonial struggle Third, the international community is absolutely correct in stating that Israel has the right to defend itself. The IDF has the right to expel Hamas fighters from Israeli territory. However, Israel does not have the right to commit war crimes. Unfortunately, the IDF has a large and well-documented history of violating human rights, and the indiscriminate bombing of apartment buildings in Gaza (in which already several entire Palestinian families have been killed) that begun Saturday suggests there will be little restraint on the side of the Israeli army. Feelings of revenge and bloodlust are perhaps natural, but they should be strongly condemned, preferably preemptively, by the international community. For this reason it is concerning that Western governments have offered “unwavering” or “unconditional support” for the Israelis in their response to Hamas. Given the IDF’s history of indiscriminate violence, why would there not be conditions to the West’s support for Israel? The international community, either bilaterally or through the United Nations, should put up clear red lines for Israel’s response to Hamas. In this, it goes without saying that a ground invasion of Gaza—which is in the cards, according to some analysts—would be an unjustifiable escalation that should not receive Western support; instead, it should result in Western sanctions. But other actions that the Israelis have already taken, including Monday’s blockade of electricity, water, food, and fuel into Gaza (which is inhabited by two million innocent people, of which roughly one million children), would in any other context already have been met with sharp criticism. Thus, it should be clear that the Hamas attacks do not justify Israel committing war crimes, and the West has to be prepared to abandon its biases and criticize and sanction Israel whenever necessary. Fourth, the Palestinian people are in the process of a decades-long struggle of decolonization. This is not to say that the Hamas attacks are a noble decolonial effort: indiscriminate killing of innocent civilians does nothing to accomplish the foundation of an independent Palestine. Still, unlike in the rest of the world, there is little understanding in the West that this wider decolonial struggle does exist. Israel behaves as a colonizer, and its expansion of settlements in recent years only further cements that image. (These maps show just how little of living space for the Palestinian people remains. Gaza is commonly called the “world’s largest open-air prison”.) As they had before the Second World War, the Palestinians have a right to their own territory, governed freely and without Israeli interference. There is no justification for the ways in which they have been suppressed and the ways in which Palestine’s young people have been deprived from a fair and hopeful future. If the Israeli government is unwilling to engage in serious efforts to work out a two-state solution, then the struggle inevitably persists. This struggle, then, is inherently righteous. It is unfortunate that the current Palestinian government, which should be leading such an anticolonial effort, has a serious legitimacy problem. President Abbas is deeply unpopular, and the government’s political vision and diplomatic outreach are weak. As noted before, Hamas is not very popular, either. Palestine needs stable, visionary political representation, both to re-assess the role of Hamas in Gaza’s defense and politics and reinvigorate a diplomatic relationship with Israel, even under Netanyahu. This is something the international community can actively help with—and would be much more constructive than sanctioning the Palestinian people, who will suffer greatly in the coming weeks and months because of Hamas’ violence. * Note: On 9 October 2023, the European Union reversed this apparently unilateral decision by a E.U. Commissioner. This occurred after several member states opposed halting financial support for the Palestinian authorities.

India, the country that recently became the world’s most populous nation, often proclaims itself the world’s ‘largest democracy’. For some time, this was generally considered to be true. It is a regular trope in media and expert analyses, and in statements from governments like the United States’. And on the surface, it is true: India holds elections on many levels of government, allows the creation of political parties, and facilitates political debate. Many states are governed by party coalitions which demand negotiation and, hence, more balanced governance. Most Indian people are accustomed to a lot of democratic freedoms, including the freedom of press and freedom of expression. Under the leadership of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, however, clear cracks have emerged in the image of India as a stable democracy. Under the rule of Modi and his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), the Indian government’s commitment to democracy has weakened. In my view, it makes it necessary to reconsider the image of India as a functioning democracy, and discuss where the country is heading as Modi (likely) is on his way to a new term as prime minister. There are a few red flags that are especially important. Red flags of Indian democracy Narendra Modi has been prime minister of India since 2014. He is a compelling figure, and has reached high levels of popularity both domestically and abroad. In 2023, although being in power for almost a decade, still roughly eighty percent of Indians approve of his leadership, according to research by Pew. The study also shows that Modi is significantly more popular than other political figures, including opposition leader Rahul Gandhi. He also remains the world’s most popular global leader, and it is not even close. 76% of respondents in a September 2023 study by Morning Consult approved of Modi’s leadership, compared to, for example, Sunak’s 26%, Macron’s 23%, and Kishida’s 23%. In other words, no other world leader can match Modi’s domestic popularity. (Internationally, confidence in Modi is mixed. Most approval of Modi’s role in world affairs was found in African countries, while most disapproval was found in Latin America.) This is very much about Modi himself. His BJ Party is significantly less popular (about half as popular, even). In fact, while much attention in the last few years may have been paid to a growing ‘cult of personality’ in Xi’s China, less attention has been paid to a similar trend occurring in India. An analysis in the Washington Post, two years ago, illustrated this by describing how a rocket sent into outer space by the Indian space agency was decorated by a photo of Modi. While this is a relatively innocent form of celebrating a leader, more problematic is the increasing tendency of the leader’s vehicle (i.e., his political party) and his audience (i.e., his supporters) to not accept any criticism directed at him. A big factor in this development is the popular frame that this one person, Narendra Modi, stands for so much more than himself, namely India, its fortunes, and its survival. A few years ago, a prominent BJP politician publicly claimed that Modi “is God’s gift to India”. The Washington Post analysis highlights more examples of Modi supporters declaring him a near-divine entity. It also highlights actions, taken by central and local governments in recent years, that resemble further efforts to institutionalize the idea of Modi as the nations’ father and saviour—by replacing old pictures of Gandhi by Modi’s, for example, or by forcing students to celebrate Modi’s birthday, or by glorifying Modi’s life through movie productions. In this hides a strategy to make Modi a larger-than-life figure that people increasingly see as synonymous with India’s well-being. It creates support not only for his appearance and his policies, but also for his more autocratic governance. Such a cult of personality is a red flag for democracy, because it weakens it. It seeks to place the one person above the ideas and institutions of democracy, as he is of such importance and stature that they do not need to abide by the rules. This can lead to an erosion of the rule of law, the trias politica, and prevent healthy debate between government and opposition. Moreover, as criticism of the leader becomes more and more unacceptable, the lack of public accountability leads to less and less reflection on the decisions taken by the government. As the leader is the nation’s saviour, all his actions are good; reflection on whether his policies were truly good or bad, in other words, is inherently unnecessary and even provocative. No accountability can lead to continuously bad governance, which is hurtful to any state, democracy or not. But most importantly, the cult of personality can lead to such a degree of power-grabbing by the one person that democracy evolves into an autocracy or dictatorship. Hinduization of India Modi, in other words, is a towering figure in India who has long transcended the day-to-day politics of his government. Along with his increasing grip on the Indian state, Modi’s radical Hindu nationalism has gotten much space, and now is the dominant ideological force in the government. That Hinduism plays a role in Indian politics and civil society is not strange: almost eighty percent of Indians identify themselves as Hindu. A pride in Hindu history and culture is only understandable. Hindu nationalism, however, is something different from Hinduism. It is instead described as “a belief that Indian national identity and culture are inseparable from the Hindu religion.” Because of this inseparability, society gets divided in the ‘in-groups’ (Hindus) and ‘out-groups’ (non-Hindus) that are the familiar pillars of nationalism. As an analogue term to describe the political ideology, Hindutva (‘Hindu-ness’) holds that Hinduism should be hegemonic and that the Indian state should not be secular (or, as it was before colonization, Islamic), but should become a formal Hindu state. Early proponents of Hindutva “used [perceived] Muslim and Christian encroachment to prop up the bugbear of a dangerous “other,” which increased the perceived vulnerability of Hindus and provided a useful motivational threat.” Of course, the more radical this ideology becomes, the more problems it poses for a multi-ethnic society like India. Christophe Jaffrelot describes contemporary India as an “ethnic democracy”, in which there is a contemporary state of “Hindu Majoritarianism against Secularism.” There is a process of “Hinduization” of the public sphere, where the space for and rights of religious minorities (notably the Muslims, Sikhs, and Christians) are diminished and oppressed. A symbolic example of this Hinduization were recent rumours that Modi intends to change the name of India to the Hindu name Bharat. Such a change would not only celebrate India’s Hindu heritage, but would also mean a big step towards turning the secular state into a Hindu state, and would clearly sideline the non-Hindu parts of Indian society. Even more dangerously, Modi has been repeatedly connected to explosions of anti-Muslim violence. In 2002, riots in Gujarat resulted in the killing, mutilation, and rape of hundreds of Muslims. The riots have been called a pogrom by scholars, describing a systemic effort to massacre an ethnic or religious minority. Modi served as Chief Minister of the state at the time. While he later was cleared of complicity by India’s Supreme Court, Modi’s responsibility has been well-documented. Tellingly, a January 2023 documentary by the BBC about Modi’s role in Gujarat was censured by the Indian government. The role of Modi and his BJP in inciting or condoning violence against non-Hindu parts of Indian society show an adherence to the darkest side of Hindu nationalism. It hurts India’s democracy: it deliberately polarizes the Indian people, it attempts and often succeeds in disenfranchising non-Hindu voters, and threatens importants freedoms, like freedom of speech and freedom of press. Security without opposition In a healthy democracy, a political figure like Prime Minister Modi and a political party like the BJP know that there are limits to their attempts to create a cult of personality and foster their brand of nationalism. These limits lie primarily in the separation of powers and the electoral system. But they lie also in the presence of good, independent media that ‘hold truth to power’. Under Modi, however, attacks on free media are more and more frequent. In May 2023, Reporters Without Borders (RWB) claimed that “pro-government media owners and supporters move to shut down critical stories [of Modi],” while an increasing amount of media are owned by wealthy Indians with close ties to the prime minister. In 2022, Human Rights Watch warned the Indian government to “stop targeting, prosecuting journalists and online critics.” Recently, a BBC investigation uncovered a systemic effort by the Indian government to clamp down on independent journalism in Kashmir. Another study claims that in 2020, more than sixty Indian journalists were arrested, while almost two hundred journalists were physically assaulted. Currently, India is ranked 140 on the World Press Freedom Index, updated annually by RWB. The increasing politicization of journalism and the growing hold of Modi supporters on media enterprises show that a fundamental pillar of democracy is under great threat in India. Especially when Modi transcends his prime ministership, being portrayed as India’s father and saviour, and becomes more and more powerful, the checks and balances of critical journalism are very important. Besides the increasing suppression of independent media, securitization of state and society is another worrying sign of Indian democracy in decline. Here, securitization refers to the politicization of ‘threats’ that are in conflict with the state—or in India’s case, with Modi and the BJP. These threats are mainly those entities who differ from Modi: the aforementioned journalists who investigate the policies and networks of Modi and his party; minorities, such as the Muslims in Kashmir who seek to remove themselves from Hindu rule under Modi; political opposition figures; and foreign enemies, most obviously Pakistan, and to a lesser degree China. They are framed as adversaries and enemies of a stable and peaceful (Hindu) India, hence the need to ‘securitize’ the Indian state and society to prevent the people from these threats. There are two examples of this securitization that pose especially direct threats to democratic politics and society: the mistreatment of religious minorities and political opposition, both in the name of (state) security. First, the rise of Hindu nationalism has not only led to an increase in pride of Hindu identity, but has also led to an increase in derogatory and aggressive sentiments towards non-Hindu Indians. Essentially, these non-Hindus are perceived as a potential threat to the majority-Hindu state. The Muslims are the most obvious example: the BJP’s antagonistic behaviour towards Muslim Indians is very well-known. But relations with other minorities, including the Sikhs in the Sikh-majority Punjab state, are problematic as well, as they are largely unwilling to conform to the Hindu nationalist politics of the Modi government. It is no coincidence that many of the government’s most repressive policies have taken place in parts of India where the non-Hindu population is the largest. The 2019 decision to revoke the decades-long autonomy of Jammu and Kashmir, resulting in clashes between the Indian state and local Muslim communities, serves as a strong example of state repression of a religious minority for the sake of ‘state security’. Even in academic literature, the theoretical concept ‘securitization’ has been connected to the Modi government’s approach towards ethnic minorities, with one author arguing that “the Indian state has in fact securitized its internal ethnic conflicts.” Second, not only non-Hindu minorities are considered threats to the (Hindu) state; as the state has become almost synonymous with Narendra Modi himself, opposition to his leadership has become a threat as well. It has resulted in worrying repression of political opposition. Most importantly, the very dubious prosecution of opposition leader Rahul Gandhi of the Congress Party raised suspicion of the deliberate imprisonment of political opposition. This is especially true as Gandhi gained political momentum in 2022 during his popular march, or pilgrimage, through India, rather succesfully rebranding himself as a common Indian who seeks to connect with his fellow people. While the Supreme Court in August 2023 suspended Gandhi’s conviction, postponing any imprisonment and potentially allowing him to challenge Modi in the 2024 election, this did not end accusations of a politically motivated trial to sideline Modi’s political opposition. The central government’s intimidation and investigation of political opposition goes beyond Gandhi, however. In March 2023, a lawmaker accused “central investigation agencies” of being used by the BJP to target opposition leaders. These forms of oppression might even have extended abroad. In September 2023, the Canadian government accused India of being involved in the murder of a Sikh separatist leader who lived British Columbia. These incidents suggest that the Indian government under Modi is increasingly comfortable with sidelining, harassing, and potentially even killing politicians and activists who are in opposition to the BJP. It goes even further: besides these attacks on non-Hindu minorities, independent journalism, and political opposition, the Indian government engages frequently in efforts to limit freedom of speech and access to information. In 2022, no country imposed internet shutdowns more frequently than India: of 187 registered internet shutdowns worldwide, 84 occurred in India. Not surprisingly, most of these shutdowns were initiated in Kashmir. Between August 2019 and February 2021, phone and internet connections were cut of by the Modi government—eighteen months without access to basic communication technology. The central government justified this “on security grounds”. Blatant efforts to limit access to information in regions where minorities live not only are intended to obstruct criticism and opposition towards the central government; they also allow more space in media and communication for the desired media narrative in New Delhi. This, then, further enables the Hinduization or ‘Modification’ of the media sphere, accomodating government propaganda and Modi’s emerging cult of personality. Side note: a China comparison The red flags discussed above merit a quick (and superficial) comparison between the cases of India and China, Asia’s two greatest powers. First, the politics in both states are heavily dominated by one party, although the dominance is much more obvious and complete in the case of China’s Communist Party. Opposition party alliances aside, no party comes close to the BJP in terms of its power, influence, and membership, which is much greater than the membership of the less-accessible Communist Party in China. Second, as mentioned before, the cult of personality that increasingly surrounds Narendra Modi to some extent resembles the cult of personality surrounding Xi Jinping. In China, state-owned media and tech enterprises spend much time and effort on Xi’s image, bringing him closer to ‘the people’ and presenting him as an affable, hard-working but down-to-earth father of the Chinese family. It has made Xi an inevitability, especially since the abolishment of the term limits that would have prevented him from still being China’s president. He is now an omnipresent part of Chinese politics and society. Modi does not share Xi’s benefit of near-total control over media and technology, although he is still able to make progress with the tools at his disposal. Third, where Modi builds his popularity on Hindu nationalism, the Chinese government is similarly known for its use of nationalism. This pertains both to ethnic nationalism (sovereignty of the Han Chinese identity, wariness of ethnic minorities and separatism) and a popular nationalism that divides the foreign world in those that are with and those that are against China (and thus, Xi). For Modi, India is a Hindu state; its Hindu history and culture is a source of pride. For Xi, China is a Han state; its Han history and culture is a source of pride. Not coincidentally, both Xi (Xinjiang) and Modi (Kashmir) have been criticized for their treatment of Muslims and other minorities. Fourth, other red flags in Indian democracy—media oppression, securitization of the state, attacks on journalists, opposition figures, and activists—have progressed much further in China. It is why China is generally not considered a democracy, but a dictatorship or totalitarian regime. (Both India and China do claim to be democratic, though: India (at least as of now) does so conform the Western understanding of representative democracy, whereas China does so conform a Leninist understanding of democracy (i.e., the people’s democratic dictatorship and democratic centralism).) In other words, while there are limits to this comparison, it does show that Indian democracy under Modi has worrying similarities with the Chinese government, which should lead to a re-assessment of our understanding of India as a stable democracy. Conclusion In short, there are numerous signs that point towards a serious weakening of democracy in India under the leadership of Narendra Modi. In this, the decline of press freedom, imprisonment of political opposition, and media blackouts are most concerning. As a developing country, India obviously has real potential. Its economy has much room for growth, its population is young and growing, and still much progress can be made in areas like infrastructure and education. India also has a big opportunity to play a larger role in global governance. But it has to be careful with its democracy. A re-election of Narendra Modi as prime minister next year could further weaken democracy and worsen the red flags indicated above. There are some electoral warning signs for Modi, meaning that any trouble in the upcoming elections might incentivize him to increase his repression against opposition and minorities. India also needs to respect the democracy of others. If Canada’s accusations are true, and India did order the murder of a separatist leader on Canadian territory, that would be unprecedented and would have a big impact on India’s standing in the West. The same is true for the use of Hindu nationalism by combative Indian diplomats under Modi, recently dubbed ‘tiger warrior diplomacy’ in reference to China’s wolf warrior diplomacy, which has contributed to China’s worsening standing in parts of the world. An Indian democracy in decline also means that there are serious challenges for the world’s democracies to find ways to constructively engage with Modi, and find ways to come to the aid of those who are hurting under his politics.

A few days ago, the United States government urged its citizens to leave the Caribbean nation of Haiti “as soon as possible”. Most (Western) governments similarly warn their citizens not to travel to Haiti, with the Dutch government recently listing a wide range of security risks when staying in the country, especially the capital Port-au-Prince. In the region, countries like Guyana and Costa Rica have repeatedly expressed their concerns about violence in Haiti. Relations with the Dominican Republic, with which Haiti shares its island, have deteriorated as Haiti is unable to keep its border region safe and prevent Haitians from seeking refuge in their neighbour country. The recent escalation of violence is not a new development in Haiti. An already unstable political situation worsened greatly after the assassination of President Moïse in 2021. Since then, a state of lawlessness and a gradual take-over of parts of the country by gangs—including a significant part of Port-au-Prince—have led to great political and societal instability as well as suffering of the Haitian people. Those same people already suffered from the aftermath of the devastating 2010 earthquake, as well as a flailing economy that suffers from chronic inflation and, as a 2022 CEPAL report indicates, was the only economy in Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC) that saw a contraction of GDP. It has become obvious that Haiti’s government is unable to combat the increasing levels of violence. Both police and military forces have been engaging in combat with gangs for years, but with little success, resulting in the gradual retreat of the state from entire parts of the country. The government has recognized its own failures and for years has asked the international community for help; in earlier decades, this was—unsuccesfully—attempted by both American and Brazilian forces, after which began a period of ‘buck-passing’ with no major powers willing to intervene in Haiti. Now, however, Kenya has taken the lead in a new effort to organize a multinational security operation that would seek to restore peace and stability in the Caribbean nation. It is a memorable ambition. For the Kenyan president, assisting the Haitian government is a form of Pan-Africanism. Not only is it a sentiment and ideology rarely seen in such acts of diplomacy, it is also a rare example of Pan-Africanism reaching the highest levels of interstate relations or multilateral affairs when it comes to the relationship between the African continent and LAC. It can be seen as part of the trend of ‘emancipation’ of the global South and more ambitious efforts to coordinate and problem-solve within the global South, without the usually inevitable influence of the West. Still, some have suggested that the United States should be in charge of any intervention in Haiti; a (well-meaning) contributor to Foreign Policy even suggested a collaboration with the French. Given their colonial and neocolonial histories in the Caribbean, it should be obvious that any plan in which former colonial powers not take the lead is preferable. When it comes to issues like monetary policy, as the contributor emphasizes, richer Western nations can and should play a role; similarly, they should have the ambition to aid the Haitian government by increasing foreign aid and foreign direct investment as soon as security levels increase. The security part, however, does not necessarily have to involve the West, especially when Kenya gets more international backing than the Bahamas. Fortunately, it seems that those former colonial powers, including the U.S.’ current Biden administration, acknowledge this. Inherent risks There is no risk-free scenario for any international security operation in Haiti. Not intervening can lead to the complete collapse of the Haitian security system and government and even greater suffering for Haiti’s people. But intervention brings big risks as well. It can lead to more violence if the security forces decide to employ a tactic of (too) proactively engaging with gangs in order to root them out, which is a possibility the Kenyans have not ruled out. This can fail, spiralling the conflict out of control and leading to the withdrawal of the foreign forces from the island. The operation can also succeed in diminishing the threat of gangs. But the gangs will not disappear completely, especially now that they have been embedded so deeply in Haitian society and have been entangled with the country’s politics and business. Even more, there are real concerns about the Kenyan forces, both for the size of the force that would be deployed to Haiti and the Kenyans’ history of misconduct in other international operations. If Kenya’s operation would fail to produce immediate results, it could lead to an Afghanistan scenario. In this scenario, foreign forces are able to assist the government in taking back much control over society and bring some stability in the country. Yet the foreign forces and government do not make sufficient progress; gangs go underground or establish bases outside of government control, regularly attacking the government and foreign forces. This would mean that any withdrawal of foreign forces would risk all progress being made by the Haitian government and their foreign supporters, resulting in an inevitable long-time deployment of foreign forces on Haitian territory. There are more risks. Some time ago, I noticed a report in Mexico’s El Economista about the situation in Haiti. Worryingly, it mentioned the possibility of the Wagner group gaining a foothold in Haiti, stepping in where other foreign actors show too much reluctance to assist the government in taking back control. Of course, this would be problematic for many reasons. Wagner actually coming to Haiti seems unlikely—most importantly, it is unlikely that the U.S. or other regional powers would allow that to happen, and the Wagner leadership of course was recently murdered—but reports like this do highlight the risks of a world community doing nothing to end the vicious cycle of violence in a state like Haiti. The China card Finally, I am still waiting to see if the Chinese government decides to assert itself more proactively in the Haiti discussion. Being the largest provider of U.N. Peacekeeper soldiers and a big believer in both the U.N. and its peace missions, China should be a willing partner for Kenya and other countries to intervene in Haiti. It would befit China’s support for R2P (‘right to protect’), especially considering the evident support of the Haitian government for any such foreign security assistance, as well as the idea of ‘global South’ cooperation. It would seemingly also fit right into China’s new Global Security Initiative (GSI), which after all aims to “encourage joint international efforts to bring more stability and certainty to a volatile and changing era”, amongst other, similar objectives. A large contribution of China to the Haitian peace mission would potentially boost its credentials throughout the LAC region. It could also sway the Haitian government to abandon its relationship with Taiwan and establish diplomatic relations with Beijing instead. In other words, there are quite a few advantages to a larger role in this process for China, and it will be interesting to see if Beijing makes use of the opportunity. For us, it would mean a good opportunity to see whether China is already willing to extend its security and peace projects beyond the Middle East, if it intends to extend the GSI into security problems that are perhaps more complex and volatile than those it so far has encountered in Asia, and whether it is willing to assume a greater role much closer to the United States’ southern shores than it has ever done. What is without a doubt, however, is that the Haitian government itself is unable to solve the security crisis within its borders, and a failure of the international community to act could doom this already highly troubled state. Previous unwillingness of major regional powers to set up a multinational security force has left a vacuum for other agents to present themselves as helpers of the besieged government in Port-au-Prince. For these agents, notably the Pan-Africanist Kenyans and possibly the Chinese, the Haiti crisis might even present a big opportunity to boost their own outlook on the world.