On September 7, El Salvador became the first country in the world to adopt Bitcoin as legal tender. From now on, citizens can buy groceries or pay for public utilities using the cryptocurrency. A new digital wallet called “Chivo” has been introduced by the government to facilitate such transactions. While Bitcoin enthusiasts are heralding the start of a new era, many ordinary Salvadorans are less optimistic. The latest currency reform is the brainchild of president Nayib Bukele. An extravagant figure, Bukele has recently called himself “the coolest dictator in the world”. The ambitious plan was announced by the president himself at a pro-crypto conference in Florida. Mr. Bukele assured the audience of tech-savvy entrepreneurs that adopting Bitcoin “will generate jobs and help provide financial inclusion to thousands outside the formal economy”. His claims may have some merit. At the moment, more than two thirds of Salvadorans do not have a bank account. The new Chivo Wallet can function as a convenient, app-based alternative and may thus increase citizens’ access to financial services. Indeed, the platform has already managed to attract more registered users than any private bank in El Salvador. The country also has a large diaspora population, most of which is concentrated in the US. Chivo is likely to make life easier for these expatriates by lowering the transaction costs of remittances which account for more than 20 per cent of El Salvador’s GDP. Nevertheless, the biggest benefit of this reform may well lie in its unprecedented magnitude. This is the first time that blockchain technology has been used on a nation-wide scale. Bitcoin currently receives large institutional support, which means that El Salvador has the potential of becoming a regionally-significant sandbox for financial innovation. The unique regulatory environment is likely to attract the attention of fintech companies, blockchain startups and digital nomads. In fact, the government has already confirmed that Bitcoin investors will be exempt from the capital gains tax. The adoption of Bitcoin may thus place El Salvador at the forefront of the emerging ‘crypto economy’ and attract foreign investment which is currently badly needed to alleviate the economy’s structural challenges. When examining the rationale for the recent reform it is also important to keep in mind that up until early September the sole circulating currency in El Salvador was the US dollar. The country underwent a process of dollarization back in 2001 in an attempt to tame inflation. However, the adoption of the dollar has also meant that El Salvador had to surrender much of its monetary sovereignty. Bitcoin, on the other hand, can be described as a decentralized financial system that functions independently from any central authority. Its adoption may well give Salvadoran policy-makers increased monetary maneuverability by lessening the influence of the US Federal Reserve that is currently pursuing a strategy of unprecedented monetary expansion. President Bukele’s recent spat with the Biden administration only reinforces the suspicion that the adoption of Bitcoin is part of a broader strategy to increase financial autonomy from the US. Such a challenge to American monetary dominance has not gone unnoticed, however. The IMF, which is currently in negotiations with El Salvador over a $1bn loan deal, has denounced the move, while the international credit rating agency Moody’s has recently downgraded the country’s rating. El Salvador already suffers from a huge fiscal deficit, and the latest developments will only place additional strain on its public finances. The negatives, however, are far more than just international disapproval. The decentralized nature of Bitcoin means it is inherently entwined with major volatility. Both rapid and huge swings in the cryptocurrency’s value are common occurrences and leave investors, and users, highly vulnerable. Even on the day of Bitcoin’s adoption in El Salvador, the cryptocurrency’s value decreased by more than 10 per cent. Such volatility can erode citizens’ savings and make both business and international trade logistics increasingly difficult. The implementation of far-reaching financial innovation also requires significant institutional resilience and strong public support. Unfortunately, the latter is also lacking; almost 70 per cent of citizens disapprove of the recent changes. The day of Bitcoin’s adoption was marked by unprecedented anti-Bukele protests, although the president remains just as determined to implement his vision. Another issue is the lack of technological readiness; less than a third of Salvadorians have access to the internet and the Chivo Wallet itself has been plagued by irregularities and glitches. These factors are likely to inhibit the success of Bitcoin’s adoption across El Salvador, and can pose significant security risks, including the possibility that users might be locked out of their digital wallets due to forgotten passwords. A much greater hazard, however, exists in the fact that the country suffers from a high level of gang violence and hosts an extensive drug trafficking network. The anonymity provided by Bitcoin’s blockchain technology is likely to be exploited by organized crime groups, severely complicating the fight against corruption in El Salvador and the wider Central American region. Many developing countries are in fact closely following El Salvador’s experiment. If President Bukele’s strategy pays off by successfully attracting foreign capital and improving financial inclusivity, it could have sweeping effects on financial legislation across the global south. Unfortunately, the internal turmoil and international criticism that Bitcoin has brought upon El Salvador is less than reassuring. Thus, while the benefits of Bitcoin still belong to the realm of potentialities, the negatives of the reform have been very real and immediate.

This article was written by contributor Lily Meckel The Voting Rights Act (VRA) of 1965 is one of the most significant pieces of legislation in civil rights history and established equal voting rights, thereby banning racial discrimination in the voting process in the United States. In the last few years this act has come under attack. A 2013 Supreme Court ruling struck down sections of the legislation, making it harder to vote in some parts of the country. The John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act is a piece of legislation being put forward that is meant to restore some of the key aspects of the Voting Rights Act. Yet, up until this day, it still has not passed through Congress, allowing for manifold discriminatory policies to be implemented that range from strict voter ID laws to reducing polling places, which disproportionality affect people of colour, thereby suppressing the vote. This article will look into how voting rights have been violated and become a politically contentious issue in one of the oldest democracies in the world, and consequently what is at stake. The original Voting Rights Act, in its full form, emerged from the civil rights movement, which called for equal voting rights for everyone. Even though the 15th amendment, which was passed after the civil war, extended the right to vote to Black Americans, discriminatory processes in southern states, known as the Jim Crow laws, were used to prevent them from voting. These practices included poll taxes, grandfather clauses and literacy tests, which Black Americans often failed due to high illiteracy as a result of centuries of oppression under slavery. The civil rights movement called for an end to racial discrimination and segregation. President Lyndon B. Johnson was finally spurred to sign the Voting Rights Act into law in 1965 as a result of the actions of this movement, one of the most prominent being the Selma to Montgomery March. This was one of the many protests that arose during the civil rights movement, and saw nonviolent protesters march peacefully and be violently attacked by white state troopers on what is known as ‘Bloody Sunday’, an event garnering national attention and sympathies. The Voting Rights Act banned the use of discriminatory practices that had long been used in the South and required states with a history of voter discrimination laws to make their voting rules subject to federal preclearance. In other words, new voting rules needed approval from the federal government before implementation. The passing of the Voting Rights Act in 1965 has greatly increased voter turnout among Black Americans ever since. According to the Brennan Center for Justice, 2012 saw turnout among Black Americans equal or even surpass white voter turnout in some Southern states, a radical leap forward from pre-1965 elections This progress came to a halt with the 2013 Supreme Court case Shelby County v. Holder, in which the court ruled sections of the act unconstitutional or no longer viable. Section 4b, which sets out which jurisdictions are subject to Section 5’s federal pre-clearance requirement, was deemed unconstitutional, meaning these jurisdictions, mostly located in Southern states, do not have their voting rules federally approved. This court ruling has led to many Republican states implementing restrictive voting laws, citing fraud prevention, despite there being precious few cases of fraudulent voting, if any at all. The Brennan Center for Justice states that 19 states, at a minimum, implemented restrictive voting measures in 2021 and that one-third of such measures implemented in the last decade were enforced in 2021 alone. Some of these practices have included stricter ID laws requiring photo IDs to be shown when voting, which many Americans do not have access to. Additionally, in some states, the time frame to ask for as well as submit mail ballots has been greatly reduced, as have the number of mailboxes to submit ballots, requiring people to drive hours to reach a mailbox. A reduction of polling stations, voting timeframes, and other such restrictions have been passed in Republican-led states. These restrictive measures directly impacted the 2020 elections, where many relied on mailing in their ballots. In some states, such as Georgia, it is even prohibited to serve food and drink to voters waiting in line to cast their ballots, which often includes hours of standing at times under extreme weather conditions, showing the extent to which votes are being suppressed in the US. One of the few ways in which this ruling can be altered, and voting rights can be protected, is if Congress implements an amendment to the VRA, which would change the coverage formula that was previously deemed unconstitutional. This has been attempted on numerous occasions since 2013 but repeatedly failed to pass through Congress, largely as a result of polarised partisanship. While the Democrats are pushing for updates to the VRA, Republicans are fiercely blocking them. The most recent attempt to restore the VRA to its full extent was the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act, named after the late US representative and civil rights pioneer John Lewis. This act includes a new formula of coverage and was passed in the House of Representatives in August of 2021. Despite this, it failed to pass in the Senate in November 2021 after a 50 to 49 vote failed to reach the 60 votes necessary to break the filibuster. Voting rights in the United States are under attack, and Congress's failure to act is leading to more and more states adopting restrictive voting measures that are racially discriminatory and suppressing the vote, affecting people of colour the most. This represents major backsliding from the US, regressing on hard gained progress and eroding democracy. The 2013 Supreme Court ruling reversed important voting protections, leading jurisdictions and states formerly covered under Section 4b to implement discriminatory policies. This shows how such a clause was vital for the preservation of equal voting rights in the US. The recent blow for the advancement of the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act shows a worrying pattern of Republican legislators undermining US democracy. It is vital that legislation including the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act, as well as the Freedom to Vote Act, are passed to ensure elections take place freely and fairly and that democracy is preserved, with equal access to voting everywhere and for everyone.

This article has been written by contributor Carson Siu The One China policy has long been at the top of the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) to-do list, with the Chinese leader Xi Jinping stating that it is the ‘unswerving historical tasks of the Chinese Communist Party and the common aspiration of all Chinese people’ during his speech on the party's 110th birthday. However, Taiwan’s position as an autonomous region still stands despite being challenged by the CCP for as long as it has existed. So, why is the People’s Republic of China (PRC) yet to reunify with Taiwan? To understand the complex situation that Taiwan finds itself in, it is key to first look at the history of the region itself. Known to have first been settled by Austronesian tribal people from modern-day southern China, it first appeared in Chinese records in AD239, in which the Chinese emperor sent expeditionaries to explore the island – something Beijing uses as its rightful claim to the territory. It then became part of China’s Qing dynasty from 1683 to 1895, when the region was then ceded to Japan following the First Sino-Japanese War. The Japanese empire held control over the island up until the end of WWII, when the Allies agreed with Chinese Nationalist leader, Chiang Kai-Shek, that Taiwan was to be returned to China. However, within four years, Chiang had lost control of mainland China to the Communist Party in the Chinese Civil War, and fled to Taiwan along with the remnants of what is now known as the Kuomintang (KMT). Once there, his party dominated the political landscape, until increasing domestic backlash triggered a transition to a more democratic political environment. For many decades the CCP has attempted to persuade Taiwan to reunify through adopting the ‘One Country, Two systems’ approach. Established in the wake of the handover of Hong Kong and Macau back to the PRC, the system would potentially allow for Taiwan to enjoy a high degree of autonomy over its political, socio-economic, and legal arrangement, though it would come under the bracket of a unified China. To say that such an arrangement has been successful would be a gross overstatement. Although Macau has enjoyed a successful and peaceful period under the system, its neighbour Hong Kong has recently experienced over a year of violent protests in response to the now-withdrawn extradition bill. Having previously rejected the proposal of reunifying under the ‘One Country, Two System’ approach, Taiwan continues in its malaise. This is reflected through the increasingly pro-independence stance the population has adopted, with the more pro-Beijing KMT party left in the dust by the leading party, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). The DDP’s leader and Taiwan’s current President, Tsai Ing-Wen, firmly stated the system poses ‘a serious challenge to regional stability and peace’ and that ‘the overwhelming consensus among Taiwan’s 23 million people is our rejection of ‘One Country, Two System’, regardless of party affiliation or political position’. Aside from facing rejection from Taiwan’s local population, China has also endured criticism on the world stage. Currently Taiwan is officially recognised by a mere 15 countries, such as Belize and Guatemala, with the United Nations and most countries recognising the CCP as the sole legal government of China, rather than the Republic of China in Taiwan, or Taipei as it is known in the international community. However, Taiwan has established unofficial diplomatic ties with 59 countries, including the UK and Germany. One key supporter of Taiwan is the U.S., and although they have not recognised Taiwan as its own sovereign state since 1979, has long held political affiliations with the self-governing island. Despite continued warnings from China that Taiwan is part of its internal affairs, the US continues to engage with Taiwan. President Biden recently invited Taiwan to the inaugural Democracy Summit. This is happening at a time of rapidly deteriorating U.S.-China relations during the Trump administration. Beijing and Washington are still engaged in a trade war and frequently clash over the coronavirus pandemic, human rights issues, and much more in the realm of Asia-Pacific Security. Thus, it is no surprise to see mounting pressure on the Biden administration to deepen diplomatic ties with Taiwan. The most recent materialisation of this has been Republican lawmakers pushing to pass legislation guaranteeing $2 Bn per year in assistance to help Taiwan’s defense. Behind the political front, China has quickly grown to be a military powerhouse. Through intensive modernisation programmes, China’s military, the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), has evolved to be the world’s largest and its recent hypersonic weapons test demonstrates its technological advancement. The rapid development of China’s military capability has led Taiwan's Defence Minister, Chiu Kou-cheng, to predict that the PRC will be able to mount a ‘full-scale’ invasion of Taiwan by the year 2025. In response, Taiwan has also continuously invested in its military capability. Aside from supporting Taiwan diplomatically, the U.S. has a deep military affiliation with the island, acting as their main military equipment supplier for many years as well as basing 39 U.S. military personnel on the island. Moreover, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken recently stated that they would ‘take action’ should China invade Taiwan, a position being adopted by other countries such as Japan and Australia. Faced with growing international support for maintaining the status quo and currently not capable of launching large-scale amphibious attacks, it is unlikely that China will launch an invasion on the island in the near future. It is against this backdrop, however, that Xi Jinping said ‘reunification through a peaceful manner is the most in line with the overall interest of the Chinese nation, including Taiwan[ese] compatriots’, a suspicious turnaround after years of touting military re-unification and vowing to ‘smash’ any attempts of formal independence. The complexity of reunifying Taiwan with China is further exacerbated by Taiwan’s monopoly over the semiconductor market. Dubbed the ‘Silicon Shield’, Taiwan’s role at the centre of the global semiconductor industry is mainly thanks to the Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC). This megafirm has meant that the region is indispensable to both China and the US. The chips are the building block of modern digital economies, and any disruption to domestic production will undoubtedly result in billions lost. As TSMC’s chairman Mark Liu puts it: ‘…the world all needs Taiwan’s high-tech industry support. So, they will not let the war happen in this region because it goes against the interest of every country in the world.’ Taiwan has long been in the crosshairs of the CCP, though its position as a self-governing state continues to remain ambiguous. As Sino-American tensions have flared in recent times, Taiwan is increasingly emerging as the central flashpoint of the Great Powers' rivalry. Returning to Xi Jinping’s speech, his firm announcement that ‘the historical task of complete reunification of the motherland must be fulfilled, and will definitely be fulfilled’, leaves us with the million-dollar question: With so many opposing forces, will the Chinese Communist Party ever be able to reunify with Taiwan?

This article has been written by contributor Sharanya Chakraborty The Covid 19 pandemic led to a halt in global migration flows by the end of July 2020. This has stranded nearly 3 million migrants miles away from their families. The restrictions that this pandemic has imposed upon them have been challenging for the migrants to survive. The migrants found little with which to survive. They walked on and on to return to their homes as no transport was organized by the government. This has been a pressing scenario throughout the world and has been continually reported by the International Organization for Migration (IOM). This migrant worker crisis has also strained the capacities of some countries to meet their own needs and left them in perilous limbo. Half of the stranded migrants have been stuck in the Middle East, with over 1 million of them stuck in Asia. At the beginning of March 2020, many workers born in the Persian Gulf, workers of foreign construction, and domestic services lost their jobs due to the pandemic and other related disruptions. Nearly 5 million workers from the former Soviet States, have languished often jobless in Russia. Their eyes are filled with a ray of hope to return to their countries of origin on government-chartered flights. The unemployed workers in Thailand returned to the nearby South Asian countries and the Afghan refugees of over 20,000 were forced back to Iran. This created major chaos at the border. Thousands of Venezuelan migrant workers made their way back to their own country on foot as opportunities dried up elsewhere. Many workers on their return to Venezuela faced a pushback from the government that termed them "biological weapons". Thousands of migrant workers all around the globe were in transit because of closed borders in the early days of the pandemic outbreak. Many were completely trapped in transit nations. Over 2000 Haitians were trapped in the Panamanian Jungle as their paths were blocked. Across Guatemala there were numerous migrant caravans that were ignored and disregarded as they traveled towards Mexico and the United States. Despite the lack of aid, thousands of people were halted in October due to virus concerns. In north Africa and the middle east the situation was more dire, with many migrants being expelled from Algeria, Yemen, and Libya. There were many instances of legitimate concerns that migrants would be carriers of new coronavirus strains. They raised the ethical quandaries about the responsibility of any country for the people to return to their areas with high Covid 19 pandemic prevalence. Many countries were not willing to accept the returning migrants, especially host countries like the United Arab Emirates. To further increase the complexities of this, in several instances some migrants refused offers of free return travel because they thought that it would undermine the costly and tiresome journeys which they had already invested in. Moving to a case study of India, millions of migrant workers have fled to urban cities and towns from rural areas in search of better opportunities. The sudden lockdown enforced by the Indian government was followed by a Janata curfew on March 22, 2020. The situation this created was chaotic for these vulnerable workers. All transport facilities were suspended, while shops and industrial units were closed alongside factories and workplaces. The majority of migrant workers were subjected to loss of income, food shortages, and a critically uncertain future. Suicides have, as a result, been well documented. As everything was very uncertain (no food, job, or notion of when this lockdown would end) many of the workers had to return to their villages. The crisis then only intensified. Due to their massive migration to rural areas, this created a health security challenge almost everywhere with an exceptional logistic nightmare. The only option left with them was to walk. These journeys were both hazardous and arduous, in this heat, they had to walk more than 1000 miles by foot without any food for continuous days. Fatalities were well documented in the bitter conditions and chaotic travel situations. Many migrant workers were arrested by the police and law enforcement officials as they were violating the lockdown. This plight was well documented on social media, with pictures of migrant workers in their vulnerability and extreme material deprivation. These illustrations raise the question on the ability for the state governments to organize arrangements and facilities for migrant workers. Stranded without food, without water, without any wages or shelter since the pandemic hit, the migrant workers crisis in India is just that, a crisis. In India state governments have tried to help migrant workers so that they could return to their homes safely. Efforts were made to arrange buses to take people back to their villages, but road travel has been similarly perilous. It is well known that car crashes are more likely to kill a person than getting infected by the coronavirus in India. The main concern is as the workers are returning from the cities to their villages, there is a greater risk of spreading coronavirus to their rural village from the urban cities as many will have traveled with it. Every day, thousands of people that are returning to the rural areas do not have the proper facility or infrastructure to put them in institutional quarantine. The rural areas do not have any Covid 19 facilities and thus prevention of the spread of coronavirus seems very difficult. Due to chronic funding in rural healthcare, the current rural infrastructure has been entirely inadequate, something that has been highlighted by the pandemic. Beyond the case of India, what has ultimately kept all the migrant workers united is rapid, unexpected, and unprecedented disruption.

Not the Uighurs, the Rohingyas. Another one of Asia’s forgotten ethnoreligious groups, living perilously under state persecution. The Rohingya Muslims inhabit Myanmar and number somewhere between 1.5 to 2 million members. Just 600,000 Rohingyas still inhabit Myanmar, with over a million now living as refugees across Bangladesh, India and beyond. The human rights crisis that has been raging on for over 5 years, and perhaps much longer, lies within a few central issues. The first of these is the ethnoreligious identity that has come to isolate them wherever they go. Ethnoreligious categorisation is a key aspect of the Southeast Asian (SEA) socio-political makeup, with the Malaysian constitution even specifying that a Malay person must profess the Muslim faith. This spawns our second issue; that the perpetuation of ethnoreligious violence is exacerbated by fractured governance. Looking through the lens of government response to, and treatment of, minority ethnoreligious groups, this article seeks to analyse the impact on the communities’ human rights over the past 5 years. The first part of this article will, therefore, examine the actions of the Myanmar government, analysing where the current refugee crisis has arisen from, and where it has left the Rohingyas. Under the 1982 Myanmar Nationality Law, the community has been denied citizenship, while their socio-economic reality has been compared, by Nobel Laureate Desmond Tutu, to apartheid. Myanmar is almost 90% Buddhist, but further than this, the Muslim minority group is also ethnically separate from the majority of the population. This has materialised in curbs on freedom of movement, access to healthcare, education and civil service jobs and beyond. The most recent, and perhaps most catastrophic, event came in 2017 following a military coup. Ethno-religious differences, exacerbated by British and Japanese colonialism, have meant the Burmese and Rohingya ‘nations’ of Myanmar have developed as separate entities. Political digression and the establishment of the Military Junta has lit the spark, turning discrimination and persecution into outright crisis. The Rohingyas were quickly identified by the Junta, and its popular mass of support, as enemies of the Myanmar state. In the chaos of transitional power and authoritarian government persecution rapidly developed into suspected genocide, with clear efforts to ethnically cleanse Myanmar of the Rohingyas. The installation of such a popular backed, yet Military dominated, governments has had grave impacts on the deterioration of the rights of the Rohingyas. The state has been linked to the direct death of over 25,000 Rohingyas, and the displacement of more than 700,000 people. Reports have since emerged detailing the scorching of villages to the ground accompanied by rape and massacre. Following this, more than three-quarters of a million Rohingyas fled for their lives westward, where their plight has only continued. Bangladesh is now home to over 1.3 million Rohingyas, 626,500 of which live inside just one camp named the Kutupalong-Balukhali Expansion Site. The government of Bangladesh has expressed the need to shelter and provide for the refugees, but has as of yet stalled in providing a long term solution.The essentials of food, water and shelter are currently being met, but the situation rests upon a knife-edge, with manifold threats facing the community. Covid-19 has reared its head in the east-Bangladeshi camps, threatening much of the temperamental stability that the limited government response has provided for. The refugee camps are also not yet safe from ongoing violence and political struggle. Just a week ago, on 22nd October 2021, 7 were killed in an Islamic Seminary by a terrorist group believed to also be responsible for the death of the refugee communities’ leader Mohibullah. The death of one of the group’s fiercest advocates and greatest leaders at the hands of terrorists has created a ‘climate of fear’, with many critics drawing on the failure of Bangladeshi security forces to protect the already at-risk camps. The response from the Bangladeshi government was initially positive, but after almost 5 years of ongoing refugee crises, the South Asian country is looking for an end to the chaos. A World Bank grant of $350million has been arranged with Bangladesh to support shelter and aid projects for what is the world’s largest forced exodus. Regardless, it appears Bangladesh is unlikely to offer long-term help. The first program organised by Bangladesh was the development of vaccination and health centers in the camps, but this has been launched as a short-term measure. Long-term plans, which are of great importance to the survival of the Rohingya people, are less positive. The relocation of 20,000 refugees to the island of Bhasan Char, which has been described as ‘an island jail in the middle of the sea’ reflects the impatience and exasperation that refugees are now being met with in Bangladesh. While ethno-religious conflicts lie at the root of the wider issue, it is government failure that is currently depriving Rohingyas from their basic human rights. Finally, the Bangladeshi government has also sought to negotiate with Myanmar for the repatriation of the over 1 million people that now live in refugee camps. Such a move would place the Rohingya people once again in grave danger, under threat of ethnoreligious persecution, if not exposed to outright ethnic cleansing. The predicament for those who escaped as far as India has been even worse. North-eastern India is predominantly Hindu and following years of Modi-led Hindu-nationalist policy, the situation for Muslims has only declined. The Indian Supreme Court has, as a result, ruled that the Rohingya Muslims are a threat to national security, meaning those who have not been deported have faced violence and discrimination. The Rohingya community has been existentially threatened by the government action of three nations: most crucially its own, Myanmar. Calls for self-determination inside the Myanmar state of Rakhine have fallen upon deaf ears. The Military Junta in control still very much stresses the alienness of the Rohingyas, reflecting once again the ethnoreligious identitarian politics that shape the region. The Rohingya people are one of the largest refugee groups in the world and sit trapped between three governments that have failed to protect them.

On September 15th, EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen delivered her State of the Union address in which she emphasized the need for a unitary response from EU Member States in the face of growing global challenges to European integration and security. The heightened tensions in the Union’s neighboring regions, the changing nature of security threats and the EU’s unique experience in military, civilian and developmental missions were all featured in her speech as she set out the Union’s defense policy direction: integrating the military capabilities of Member States under a common European framework. The theme of centralization informed most of the policy decisions von der Leyen announced, with the formation of a Joint Situational Awareness Center centralizing military intelligence and information cooperation, and the creation of a common European platform for the region’s defense industry increasing interoperability and decreasing external dependencies. This could go as far as even removing VAT for defense equipment produced in the EU, and passing the ‘European Cyber Resilience Act’ that would compile EU cyber defense policy and legislation into common standards. The speech’s concluding nod to France’s takeover of the EU Council and the adoption of a ‘Strategic Compass’ in 2022 pushed to the fore once again the debate over the federalization of Member States’ armed forces under a common EU flag. Indeed, the discussion has resurfaced innumerable times in the past and was initially animated by strong aspirations under the Helsinki Headline Goal of 1998 – which introduced the idea of a 60,000 strong task force. Even in the face of a series of security crises, such as the Russo-Georgian War, the Syrian Civil War, Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the lackluster evacuation of NATO troops from Afghanistan, it failed to mobilize support for any major shifts in European Security and Defense Policy (ESDP). While the Commission President has attributed the Union’s hesitation to develop its defense policy to a ‘lack of political will’, time has shown how structural elements, especially US opposition, have precluded such developments and, at the same time, how a change in these variables might give the EU more leverage over its military unity. The main reason the development of a defense union is stunted has been the United States’ opposition to the idea of an autonomous European authority for territorial defense. Washington’s perspective is mainly informed by ‘Atlanticist dogmatism’, a doctrine Secretary Albright sanctioned through the ‘three Ds’: ‘no duplicating, discriminating, or delinking’ of defense policy. While this policy reflects US concerns over the possibility of their waning role in the post-Cold War era and the supplantation of NATO by an EU defense union, the expansionary politics of Russia and the emergence of modern disruptive technologies leave little doubt over the relevance of the security bloc. Despite this, Washington has not moved away from its staunch opposition to EU ‘strategic autonomy’. Under Donald Trump this opposition was instrumentalized as interest in the American defense industry. This came into sharper focus with the introduction of PESCO (Permanent Structured Cooperation) and the EDF(European Defense Fund). Washington has argued that restrictive third-country regulation over IPR, funding eligibility, and export control against non-EU entities creates ‘the prospect of future European defense cooperation with limited or no American industrial participation’. Indeed, while a majority of Member States are favourable towards third-country involvement – especially from the US – those countries that house direct competitors to US defense companies (e.g., Airbus, MBDA) are driven by a ‘European money for European companies’ ethos and seek emancipation from US influence. An effort especially spearheaded by French officials. The other end of the spectrum sees eastern-European countries, most notably Poland and the Baltic states, showing the strongest hesitance towards a decoupling from the American military-industrial complex. This is symptomatic of the deeper political fracturing of the Union. These countries continue to view the US as their main security provider, with NATO as the only reliant bulwark against Russian westward influence. Therefore, as long as unanimity is required in order to pass common security policies through the EU, these countries will continue to act as Washington’s ‘trojan horses’ and undermine Brussels’ project of European defense integration. Despite the EU’s aggregated defense spending of $200 billion, Member States still lack the enabling systems and capabilities, which are often expensive and beyond individual states’ acquisition capacities, and still rely on US support for expeditionary missions. In this sense, what we see is a ‘patchwork of national forces of mostly low readiness’. Declining equipment inventories, diversified types of equipment making joint training impossible and disinvestment in defense technology R&D are only a few of the logistical challenges the Transatlantic alliance faces. Recent EU initiatives should therefore be seen only as addressing the ‘incessant fragmentation, duplication, and waste’ of current efforts, with some political analysts agreeing that a centralized European military authority would strengthen rather than undermine NATO, potentially solving the inefficiencies of the arbitrary 2% of GDP requirement. For example, research has shown that European equipment procurement could be reduced by 30% ( $15 billion per year) if it were done at a centralized level. Other researchers have argued that the centralization of EU defense policy will lead to a mutually-beneficial ‘division of labor’ between NATO and the EU. The Union can play to its strengths in resilience against non-military threats, and long-term capacity building and military training missions in its neighboring region, as it has already been doing in several African nations. Europeans have been averse to the reallocation of national resources towards national defense spending, but have been generally supportive of increased defense spending at EU level. This is usually taken to be the result of the widespread feeling that ‘the citizenship that needs protection [from the changing geopolitical climate] for many in the EU is not their national citizenship but their EU citizenship’. This collective awareness seems only to be strengthening as many on the continent are increasingly aware that the US is reorienting its foreign policy towards a ‘one-war standard’ on China’s growing influence over Asia-Pacific, leaving European security as a mere afterthought. This may prove to be just the critical juncture that will harness support for military integration across all Member States and enable EU policymakers to supplant the European defense ‘ecosystem’ with a European defense union. This process could, however, take a generation– especially in the absence of US backing – and researchers predict that full ‘strategic autonomy’ would be unsustainable for regional security, emphasizing the inextricability of NATO. The Transatlantic alliance features in every scenario. Even if the Union achieves full commitment from all its Member States, the question remains: will the Biden administration revise its position towards EU military integration and stop tilting at windmills? Image credit: [European parliament/Flic

This article has been written by contributor James Beamish Earlier this month, the international community’s High Representative in Bosnia, Christian Schmidt, issued a stark warning; the Dayton Accords are at serious risk of collapse. Bosnia, a country delicately held together by the Dayton Accords ever since the Bosnian War of 1992-95, may well break apart, threatening to plunge the country once more into open war. Two questions must be asked about this: firstly, why has the situation deteriorated to this point? And secondly, can anything be done to restore the country’s stability? In order to grasp the current crisis in Bosnia we must understand the context in which it is taking place. Signed in 1995, the Dayton Accords was a treaty which ended the brutal Bosnian war, and outlined the new governmental structure which was to take the country forward. Bosnia was split into two entities, each consisting of the two largest ethnic groups who had engaged in bitter inter-ethnic conflict in the preceding war.The first of these is the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, representing Bosniak Muslims as well as Catholic Croats, while the second is Republika Srpska, which comprises the Orthodox Serb population. Both regions have significant autonomy, though are united at the national level by a government equally conscious of providing for ethnic balance. The Presidency, a unique apparatus in the modern world, consists of three men- one Serb, one Bosniak, and one Croat. Here, The centrality of ethnicity to politics is vividly demonstrated by the fact that a declaration of one’s ethnic identity must be made in order to run for public office. Clearly, whilst the bitter ethnic fighting was brought to end, its legacy was enshrined within the country’s system of government. Rather than seeing politics as progressive way to solve collective action problems, this new system fell for Clausewitz's famous dictum and inversed it: politics is war by other means. Thus, as Julian Borger has written, Bosnia has been subjected to “purgatory: life in the absence of war, but never quite at peace”, for how can a true and collaborative peace be found in a political environment that institutionalizes the conception of the inherent differences between ethnicities. Out of this divisive political environment a figure has arisen who is determined to bring about the independence of Republika Srpska: Milorad Dodik. The Serb member of the tripartite Presidency, he has for over a decade, now, been pushing for greater Serb autonomy in Bosnia. Recently his threats have taken on a more concrete form, with legislation currently being proposed to the National Assembly of Republika Srpska which, in the words of Chrisitan Schmidt is “tantamount to secession without proclaiming it ''. Triggered, ostensibly at least, by the High Representative’s introduction of a law which would criminalize the denial of the Srebrenica Genocide- in which over 8,000 Bosniaks were slaughtered by Serbs- on October 20th, Dodik introduced the dull sounding ‘Law on Medical Equipment and Drugs. Its effects, however, are incendiary. A new medical agency would be established for Republika Srpska, completely replacing the federal agency founded in 2009, and thus emphatically undermining the national government’s role in the Serb territories. This is but one piece of an intended raft of legislation which would eject the Bosnian national government from the affairs of Republika Srpska. Withdrawal from the armed forces and from the judicial, tax, and policing systems would all-but bring about Serb independence from the rest of Bosnia and shatter the Dayton Accords’ plan for peace. Obviously, such a conclusion would be intolerable for the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, who are strong supporters of the Dayton Accords and wish to keep the country united, thus risking the re-emergence of armed conflict between two sides whose demands are wholly incompatible. The problem for the West is that it is not just a matter of simply upholding the Dayton Accords, for it is growing increasingly intolerable, both from the perspective of the Serb, and that of the ordinary Bosnian. The tripartite Presidency and its complex ethno-centric political system, even beyond the issues raised above regarding the entrenchment of ethnic identities, has also caused the Bosnian state to be remarkably ineffective. Described by some as “the world’s most complex system of government”, it has led to a lack of political accountability, obscene levels of corruption, and poor economic and governmental performance. Bosnia currently has an unemployment rate of 16% and a youth unemployment rate of 34%, It is no wonder, then, that 87% of Bosnians believe the country is going in the wrong direction, This has only further inflamed Serb separationist tendencies for, to quote Borger again, “the anger and despair fuels yet more nationalism, in part because the system is rigged that way. It is a self-sustaining machine for producing misery”. Such a point was not necessarily lost on the Americans, even whilst negotiating the Accords. Daniel Sewer, a US envoy at Dayton, described how “we thought it was just a house of cards about to come tumbling down”, whilst Nicholad Burns, another US diplomat at Dayton, describes the Accords as “an incomplete peace, but it is a peace”. The point here is that Dayton was never meant to be a permanent settlement, rather it was an expedient device used to stop the immediate bloodshed. Unfortunately, over time the Dayton Accords have become increasingly Reified. The Bosniaks support it as the only way to keep the country united, yet this has inhibited institutional reform, further fueling the rise of Serb nationalism who are dissatisfied at the results of a Bosnian administration incapable of reform. This in turn has further entrenched Bosniak attachment to the Dayton Accords as a mechanism to combat such nationalism. A vicious cycle has emerged, or, to put it more accurately, a new equilibrium has been reached. The Accords are now regarded by all involved to be the only way to keep the Bosnian state united, yet it is the Dayton Accords themselves which are the source of the modern Serbian secessionist movement that is fracturing that same state. Thus, any Western involvement must be predicated on the revisal of the terms of the Dayton Accords. However, due to the emergence of this new equilibrium, such revision may come too late. To abandon Dayton may well be to abandon Bosnia, and yet to uphold the Accords is to encourage the same fate. Unless an ersatz Metternich can be found amongst European or American diplomats, the situation in Bosnia seems destined to escalate towards either war, separation, or both.

Halfway through the Slovenian presidency of the European Council, EU Member States met with their counterparts from the Western Balkans in Brdo pri Kranju for the gift that keeps on giving: talks of EU enlargement. While the list of Members has not been extended in almost a decade, the discussion over the accession of the former Yugoslav countries into the Union remains one of the most pressing issues for the Commission. It’s importance is recognised by Brussels, as it has heavily invested in the region with a series of programs aimed at stabilizing the emerging democracies, laying the groundwork for their eventual accession. Despite this, the prominent figures of the Union have been more restrained in recent years in the use of the words ‘accession’ and ‘enlargement’, begging the question of whether enlargement is grinding to a halt, and if so, why? Albania, Montenegro, Serbia and North Macedonia were all granted candidate status almost a decade ago, with Kosovo and Bosnia & Herzegovina still awaiting approval from the EU Council. Both have adopted and enforced the ‘Stabilization and Association Agreement’ (SAA), but only the latter has received an Avis from the Commission, an in-depth analysis of the country laying out its pre-negotiation priorities. The efforts of consolidating regional stability through a series of accords - between Albania and Serbia with Kosovo - were accompanied by a complete overhaul of the extant enlargement framework - the ‘Stabilization and Association Process’ (SAP), in use since 1999 - after the negative experience of the 2007 accessions. The key component of the framework is the Instrument for Pre-Accession Assistance (IPA), through which more than 24 billion euros have been funneled into the region. In spite of a continued show of commitment to the alignment of former Yugoslavia to the EU ethos of ‘reform and prosper’, one cannot help but notice the absence of the same enthusiasm at the Slovenian summit – the word ‘enlargement’ appears only once in the summit’s final declaration. The high spirits of Western Balkan leaders were painted on a background of low expectations and frustration, especially on the part of the North Macedonian and Albanian delegations, following Bulgaria’s continued opposition to the latter’s accession. The incrementalist nature of the enlargement process can be traced back to the Commission’s decision to restructure the 1993 Copenhagen criteria. The continued expansion of the EU’s legal body has posed increased political and bureaucratic difficulties for EU institutions, and the ugly memories of post-2007 enlargement prompted negotiators to begin talks by focusing on Justice and Home Affairs which have previously been the most difficult issues in early integration. Hungary and Poland’s recent debacle with Brussels over the rule of law is sure to preclude any move to more benign accession requirements. In addition, the incentives for Member States are also diminishing. Continued regional instability alongside the shift of the Union’s strategic focus to the Middle East, North Africa, the ‘buffer states’ between the EU and Russia and the cyber rivalry with China have limited the geopolitical benefits of enlargement. These are all symptoms of a general ‘EU fatigue’, clearly expressed in the agenda of the Commission under Jean-Claude Juncker, which failed to mention any enlargement plans. However, this fatigue has spilled over into the Western Balkans itself, where the prevailing attitude is ‘a mix of resigned and fatalistic Euro-realism and growing Euroscepticism’. This issue is especially acute in Serbia, where sympathy towards the EU scores the lowest among its population, not least because of the enduring trauma of the NATO bombing campaign of 1999. While support has slowly risen - from 36% in 2014 to 54% in 2021 - contentious issues such as the recognition of Kosovo and its linkage to EU accession still stand in the way of broad support. Serbia also lies at the root of many of the problems facing EU enlargement. While already undergoing negotiations, the country has made little progress towards full membership. Most importantly, Serbian officials have adopted policies and appropriated a rhetoric of a ‘Serb world’, startlingly similar to the discourse that brought the Yugoslav republic to its knees. Tensions with Kosovo have spiked yet again in September after the Serbian government deployed armored vehicles, jets and helicopters at the border, allegedly in support of Serbian protesters, angered by the introduction of new border regulations. The conflict continued well into October, when protesters once again clashed with the police. East of Serbia, where the Dayton Accords have been crucial in stifling ethnic tensions for the past quarter of a century, social cohesion is under threat as the president of Republika Srpska, one of the two entities making up Bosnia & Herzegovina and containing an overwhelmingly Serb majority, has recently announced its intention of withdrawing the state from national institutions such as the tax authority, medicines agency and the armed forces. Meanwhile in Montenegro, ethnic divisions have arisen once again with the election of the new metropolitan of the Serbian Orthodox Church in Montenegro. The common denominator in all of these conflicts is the Serbian government, whose influence has been more or less covert, but sanctioned by the populist appeal to a Greater Serbia, incorporated in the discourse of the governing Progressive Party. While there is presently no immediate risk of military conflict, the situation has greatly destabilized the region, undermining the prospect of progress towards fulfilling the accession criteria. What is especially concerning is the fact that the problem is not contained within a single candidate member, but is affecting every nation, including those closest to EU membership. Presented here is a unique opportunity for the EU to shift from a reactive role to a proactive stance by shaping the future of its community. While the Union and its Allies have always been one step behind in everything Balkan this does not mean that they are confined to passivity. On the contrary, twenty years of heavy investment and support from both the EU and NATO have undoubtedly restructured the dynamics in the Western Balkans, opening up the region for the West to mould former Yugoslavia in its own image. While it is still disputed as to whether the EU has successfully integrated Central and Eastern Europe into its community, the alternative of leaving the Balkans in the ‘waiting room’ opens up a host of issues for regression, disintegration and eurosceptic efforts to degrade broader EU borders and stability.

Above expectation inflation, astronomical energy prices and shortages across the board have aroused a profound sense of uncertainty and unease in the UK. As we enter the winter, a post-pandemic economic squeak, rather than bang, has commentators harkening back to the Winter of Discontent. Upon scrutiny, the historical parallels aren't quite there, but the zeitgeist of the late 70s captures the general sense of the now evident economic malaise. The Winter of Discontent was a period during the winter of 1978/79 marked by a historically cold winter, widespread economic turmoil and political discontent under James Callaghan's Labour government. At the time, trade unions represented a powerful political force and wielded enormous power through their ability to strike. At the peak of the movement, 70,000 workers in London alone went on strike. But what immortalised the period was the site of piled up bodies in January 1979, following a gravedigger and crematorium worker strike. The morbid site seized headlines and captured the national imagination. Underpinning this economic crisis was the spectre of stagflation; which some economists and commentators are now claiming has resurfaced. Stagflation is defined as a period of persistent inflation and economic stagnation. A quick primer on these two concepts, the former refers to a rise in the general price level of goods and services in an economy whilst the latter is marked by little or no economic growth. At the heart of the issue is a paradox. Inflation can be a sign of economic growth and many central banks across advanced economies target inflation. But, during the stagflation crisis of the 1970s and our current moment, rising inflation can be identified in tandem with subdued levels of economic activity. The crucial distinction between the two periods lies in the source of inflationary pressure. Inflation ran amok during the 1970s due to strong trade unions and oil embargoes. The Thatcher government dealt with the former through structural overhaul in the labour market, and it is important to realise that the latter arose from a myriad of complex geo-political issues that ultimately proved temporary. As we explore the reasons for the current bout of inflation, the link being made between the winter of 1978/79 and the current stagflationary crisis become more clear. We must bear in mind that it may similarly be resulting from a mix of transiencial and structural problems. The first issue under scrutiny is supply-chains, and no longer are they merely a dry topic in week 8 of International Trade. Following Brexit, they have become a focal point of mainstream news. The poster child of globalisation, supply chains have ushered in an era of unparalleled convenience for consumers across the Global North. Yet, many international supply chains crumbled in the face COVID-19, as the post-lockdown surge of demand fell unequally. Unravelling this further, pent-up demand can be traced back to stringent public-health measures put in place which dampened consumer spending but also inordinately directed it towards consumer goods. This collided with COVID related disruptions to new staff training and the "Pingdemic" – where contract tracing notifications forced workers to self-isolate. These factors and their overall effect on inflation might have been minimised had the furlough scheme not been so successful in propping up consumer spending through income replacement. With constant drives to increase vaccinations domestically and a renewed effort to increase global vaccine equity, there is hope that global supply chains become stronger, but the end remains far from sight. Compounding pandemic-related supply-side issues is Brexit. Regrettably, the post Brexit labour shortages were not predicted by or factored into government planning or economic forecasting. Of course, it is worth noting that a shortage of lorry drivers and hauliers was an issue before Brexit. Though now, with even further reduced numbers and increased demand for their services, HGV drivers have been able to leverage their demand to secure higher wages. The hike in consumer prices caused by higher transportation costs has caused alarm for some, while others stress the importance for HGV drivers to be paid more in recognition of their essential role. Efforts are being made by the government to secure more drivers through offers of temporary visas, but numbers remain disappointingly low. As with the winter of 1978/79, structural changes to the labour market are required if current conditions are to be overcome. Topping it off, a perfect storm of issues is causing UK energy prices to soar. Gas prices have gone up 250% since January with 13 energy suppliers having gone bust within the last two months - 2.4 million households have been affected by this crisis. The causes are manifold; a colder than anticipated 2020 winter, supply disruptions in Russian oil and gas, fractured Anglo-French transport links, poor conditions for wind farms in the UK and rising demand in Asia for cleaner sources of energy byereing. Given the multiplicity of causes from around the globe, it is difficult to describe this as a transitory issue and may instead represent a major structural stall in the British energy sector. The energy crisis is therefore one of the diverging points from the Winter of Discontent, wherein the energy crisis was temporary. So, is it the same? There are certainly echoes of the past as wages and energy prices rise, albeit in specific sectors and in different ways. Fundamentally, the inflation of today is described as transitory. As vaccine distribution increases worldwide, building resilience to the virus in the human parts of the supply chain, and as backlogs are cleared at international ports, the economy can move closer back to equilibrium. It is important however, especially with regard to the energy crisis, that issues are properly evaluated in the context of being temporary or structural. The fear of inflation is expected to clear, and economic growth is expected to resume. But, when the finer details are scrutinised, such a development is far from certain. Instead, it seems the economic mood is ripe for a Winter of Discontent; plagued by stagflation.

For Mali, the last decade has been a turbulent one. In 2012, members of the Tuareg ethnic group in the north of the country began a war for the independence of a region known as Azawad; this quickly ballooned into a multi-factional civil war between the government, Tuareg rebels, and Islamist groups aligned with Al Qaeda and Daesh. Further complicating the situation is the French military mission, codenamed Operation Barkhane, that has conducted counterinsurgency operations on behalf of the government since 2013. While that operation is slated to end next year, French troops will remain in the region through the EU’s international task force, Takuba. One more actor, the Wagner Group, may yet enter the fray, threatening Malian stability, Tuareg human rights, and even French aspirations. Though the Tuareg rebels and government signed a peace agreement in 2015, largely ending hostilities between the two parties, the Islamist insurgency has endured, even spreading into the broader Sahel region. Worsening matters, the country underwent two separate coups - one in 2020 and another this year. The nationwide conflict shows little sign of abating, and Bamako’s international partners are increasingly uncomfortable conducting joint operations with the Junta, leaving hopes of stability even lower. The debacle has already begun. After the most recent coup, France briefly suspended military cooperation with the Malian military. While the cooperation was resumed just a month later, Paris had sent its message, and the Junta had been threatened. Bamako (Mali's capital) it seems, has found a solution: soliciting the services of the Wagner Group. Describing the Wagner Group is like ripping a page out of a James Bond script; a Russian para-military organisation, established by a neo-Nazi veteran of the Syrian civil war, controlled by Dmitry Prigozhin, an oligarch affectionally referred to as “Putin’s chef”. While they are officially both private and independent, they maintain a close relationship with the Russian state, with their operators receiving both top-of-the-line-equipment and military honours from the government. While its most publicised operations have been in Ukraine and Syria, Wagner involving itself in Mali would hardly be unprecedented. Recent years have seen its operators deployed in Libya, Mozambique, and the Central African Republic, among others. Underlying these deployments is a clear pattern: Wagner operators are brought in to help a leader (or aspiring leader, in the case of Libya) maintain power and resist threats posed by insurgent groups. In return, they secure preferential access to mines and other natural resources, which are then exploited by other companies owned by Prigozhin. The Russian government secures a more subtle benefit by bringing another country out of the Western sphere of influence and into its own. All the while, Wagner itself conducts its trade with little regard for civilian life or humanitarian law; in the Central African Republic, for instance, UN experts have accused Wagner of “mass summary executions, arbitrary detentions, and torture during interrogations.” This is, disturbingly, a key selling point. Unlike France, neither Prigozhin nor the Russian state will hold the Malian military to humanitarian standards or lodge complaints about atrocities perpetrated. The Junta, for its part, is understandably tight-lipped about the potential deal. "These are rumours. Officials don't comment on rumours," said spokesman Baba Cisse when pushed on the subject. Yet it is unlikely that the deliberate ambiguity is motivated by an official commitment to facts; the implicit threat of including Russia in the Sahel security equation gives the junta some leverage over its Western partners, especially France. Paris now appears to find itself in a bind; either it maintains a military operation to prop up a dictatorship, seemingly in perpetuity, or it accepts Russia creeping into what it perceives as its own sphere of influence. Within Mali itself, public opinion on a deal with Wagner is divided. Many are disgruntled with Operation Barkhane, and French presence more generally, and welcome Russia as a “more neutral” security partner. The sentiment is understandable - France has been accused of perpetuating the conflict for its own economic and political ends, while Russia is perceived as being disinterested enough to avoid manoeuvring for personal gain. Despite this, the Coordination of the Movements of the Azawad (CMA), a coalition of primarily Tuareg rebel groups that made peace with the government in 2015, is deeply opposed to the deal. Citing the atrocities committed by the Wagner Group in other countries, the CMA warned that any government deal with “mercenaries” would threaten the 2015 peace agreement. Were the Azawad conflict to reignite as a result, we might expect the Junta, aided by its new Russian allies, to treat the Tuaregs with even greater brutality than the previous government did. While the current security arrangement in Mali is deeply flawed, the presence of the Wagner Group would be far from helpful. At best, counterinsurgency operations will intensify in their ruthlessness, and the Junta will entrench itself deeper under the protection of foreign fighters; at worst, a new Tuareg rebellion could ignite, further dividing the country and perpetuating the civil war

Living through the Covid-19 outbreak we are all acutely aware of the fears associated with it. However, this pandemic catalysed a different fear for many teenage girls in rural India. According to Unicef, 650 million females are married before their 18th birthday around the world and more than 40% are from South Asian countries. Just five states, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, West Bengal, Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh, out of India’s 28, are home to over half of all child brides in India. The legal minimum age for marriage is 18 for females and 21 for males in India. However, accounting for a third of the global total, there are approximately 1.5 million child marriages in the country each year. Whatever the law may state, it does not reflect the reality. Praised for its close knit and supporting culture, marriage is a fundamental tenet in Indian families and is one to be admired. However, it is the same sense of solidarity and accountability for each member of the family that can lead to child marriage. Held as a common belief in India, it is considered a parental duty to find their daughter a suitor in adequate time, taking into consideration her fertile lifespan. This consideration does not, however, bring into account the socioeconomic dilemmas saturating Indian villages, which, to the demise of many young girls, accelerates their propulsion into the marital sphere. For example, poor sanitation and preventable diseases account for approximately 2.4 million deaths every year, meaning that even parents often succumb to diseases such as tuberculosis. This generates a chain reaction of financial insecurities and incessant poverty for family members left behind. So, in a twisted attempt to save their children from being orphaned, parents hurry to marry their offspring in a way that fulfils their ‘duty’ as a parent. What is less understood is that in an attempt to save their daughter from financial perils they are subjecting her to a lifetime of profound personal struggles and severely diminished human rights. According to UNICEF, girls married before the age of 15 are more likely to die of complications during pregnancy and childbirth, as well as 50% more likely to have experienced physical or sexual violence from an intimate partner - suggesting that this safe haven isn’t safe after all. This problem has been exacerbated by concerns over public safety. With the return of young men back to the small towns during lockdown, parents have been left feeling concerned about the vulnerability of their daughter’s physical safety. Police officials shuffle through roughly 30,000 rape cases a year - not including those that go unreported. In these anxiety ridden situations, child marriages are viewed by parents as an opportunity to gift their children access to greater physical wellbeing. Marrying a teenager to a man potentially twice her age does not seem immoral if it protects her from the violence of other men in the community, despite the possibility that she is still likely to experience domestic abuse within her marriage. It is important to reflect on the harrowing choice that some families in India are faced with; the potential abuse of one man over the abuse of many men. Citizens in first world countries perceive these instances of underage marriages unutterable and unscrupulous, but what our privileged upbringings deny us is the capability to process that this alternative appears much better than a lifetime of abuse, starvation and economic doom. Indian parents do not agree to manifest their daughters as child brides because they want to, but because they feel they have no other option. The complications of underage marriage are preferable to the barbarism of social injustice that is otherwise written in the stars for poverty-stricken women. On the back of this, the Covid-19 pandemic has prompted a surge in the number of illegal child marriages. Being home to the second highest number of cases, India’s early but destructive lockdown resulted in a catastrophic effect on the economy and the livelihood of its citizens, leaving almost 100 million unemployed. With the virus penetrating the already malnourished Indian slums, many families have lost stable incomes, pushing them further into a blackhole of poverty. Schools, which have played a crucial role in keeping girls safe, were forced to shut, swelling the parental burden. For example, the mid day meal scheme permitted students from lower income backgrounds to receive one meal a day at school. However, during lockdown this forced already struggling families to scramble to provide their children with an additional meal. Due to the fact that cultural norms assign lower value to women, Indian nationals perceive no other alternative than to marry their daughter off, regardless of being beneath the legal age. This is done in an endeavour to receive a dowry which would alleviate additional financial stresses’. In this way, child marriages, an expression of gender inequality, thrived during the pandemic by further devaluing and dehumanising young girls as a commodified and transferable good, capable of generating economic returns. This is reinforced by the fact that weddings are viewed as elaborate and expensive affairs, celebrating the couple's religion and culture. With Covid restrictions limiting the size of weddings, parents who received marriage proposals were keen to accept and conduct them undercover. According to the assistant commissioner for Women and Child Welfare in the state of Maharashtra, "It was easier, cheaper and they could get away with inviting very few people." Wedding a younger girl is considered financially efficient as her wrists are smaller, her ankles are smaller and her body is tinier, meaning it costs less to buy jewellery and marital gowns - an essential for Indian brides. Child marriages are presented in media as a social norm, deeply ingrained into a society constructed on institutional discrimination and gender inequality, highlighting the minimal worth granted to females. However, the future is lined with hope. According to the Prohibition of Child Marriage Act 2006 every district should have a child protection officer to enforce the legal marriage age for men and women. This is positively compounded by the Rajasthani government recently appointing greater police officials in the 33 districts within its state to keep in check child marriages. Potentially, the synergy and continued collaboration between the government and social agencies will lead to more impactful shift to overcome child marriage; an institution which currently stand as a hurdle to the rights of women. One of the most significant developments has been from UNICEF who have begun their gradual shift from small level interventions to large scale district models. These projects, working on teenage empowerment, build on existing government programmes and send a message across the country: Child marriages end childhood.

by Lucy Young (Research Analyst, Technology) Technological sovereignty, in the national sense, is where states rely upon nationally owned technology to function effectively, as opposed to imported goods and data. This means there is greater regulatory autonomy, creating a healthier cycle of commodity production and sale within the confines of one's own economy and legal system. Not to confuse this with data localisation, which requires data to be solely stored within the confines of territorial borders, as seen in countries like India and China.The way I see it, technological sovereignty would be beneficial for the British economy, but this is entirely dependent upon the government’s willingness to ensure transparency and more lenient borders. China is a prime example of a country reliant upon their own technology infrastructure, with the creation and distribution of Huawei technology throughout the world, and in the southern hemisphere especially. According to the White House in May 2020, this was done with the intent to “exploit the free and open rules-based order and attempt to reshape the international system in its favor”. In fact, throughout 2020, it seemed to be Trump’s administration that was exploiting parties in this dispute, as they openly pressured the U.K. to completely stop reliance upon Huawei in favour of other (American) companies. Trump’s own immigration policy is proving beneficial for other innovative nations, driving talent to the UK and Canada. These countries are joined by the E.U., also moving quickly to enhance their own internal technology market, as seen with the globally supported GAIA-X innovation. But with this new internalised system comes heightened fears that nations like France and Germany will advance past the rest; some may argue there are limited abilities to protect national policy and ensure fair competition within the Single Market Framework - and in response to this, Erixon (2020) identified four variables that come into play, relating to technological sovereignty and political considerations. These are cultural understanding, control over the digital economy, gaining dominance in EU competition, and also ensuring cybersecurity protection. It is evident that Britain’s neighbours hold the reins on training tech specialists to achieve optimal results. Promisingly, the U.K. has been moving in a direction that enhances British business and innovation. Various U.K. start-ups have been acquired by international giants - with a prime example being the acquisition of British chip designer Arm Ltd by Japanese company SoftBank for $40B. In fact, around 77 large start-ups have been valued at over $1B, making them unicorns. However, it seems that leading growth innovators are France, Japan and China, and most technologically advanced nations are Germany, Singapore and South Korea - thus forcing the U.K. to play catch-up. As we cut ties with the E.U., it is pivotal that the U.K. adopts a digital framework which would assist and support British companies in ensuring their tech can be the most prominent in the market, resulting in a limited need to outsource. This will prove to be difficult, as Britain is heavily reliant upon foreign big tech, like Apple and Alphabet. One solution to this was outsourcing infrastructure from neighbouring nations, which was one of the main beneficial functions of remaining in the EU, rather than looking across the Atlantic for westernised tech templates. High achieving STEM students are often found in Iran, Germany and Singapore, thus explaining the U.K. Government’s new fast-track Visa initiative to get more foreign talent on board. A strong market Britain can offer is the medical tech sector; director of HealthIQ, Hassan Chaudhury, claims that the U.K. is leading the way in medical technology because the NHS can’t afford to be lazy about design and testing. This includes Babylon Health (Jersey-based) and CMR Surgical (Cambridge-based), as well as fintech initiatives, Rapyd and Sterling Bank. As a result, 2019 was the U.K.’s most successful year for digital innovation, with greater VC investment than Germany and France combined. Despite this, there are 600,000 tech-related vacancies across the country, likely due to the instability of starting a new life and job in the UK during the transition period of Brexit, or due to lack of skill and training in the U.K. I believe the tech sector is an invisible industry from a public perspective, especially fintech industries. This is evident in the lack of homegrown talent and training provided in the U.K. Being a software engineer or product manager is a highly specialised role, and one that often requires an expensive university degree, which is where Britain falls short - lack of knowledge to reinforce innovation. While Chancellor Sunak has created R&D initiatives throughout the pandemic, this doesn’t help young people venture into the field to begin with. Developing accessible pathways, and normalising the industry in younger education could be pivotal. I’d recommend lenient visa regulation and admission for international talent. Arguably, leaving the E.U. relapsed our progress in foreign relations, but this could be an opportunity to collaborate with the South East (especially after the U.K.-Japan deal was executed earlier this year) and other Nordic nations like Norway and Iceland. Technological sovereignty could be the national, political initiative that Britain needs to thrive independently, perhaps enabling us to follow in the footsteps of Germany and Japan.