foreignpolicy--2020-08-27--The African Union’s Hypocrisy Undermines Its Credibility

On Aug. 18 , following months of protests , elements within the Malian army took it upon themselves to remove President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita from power .
Keita subsequently resigned and dissolved parliament .
The coup is the third in Africa in the past three years and has yet again demonstrated that , while the heyday of military coups may have passed , they are certainly not entirely out of fashion .
The African Union ( AU ) and the Economic Community of West African States ( ECOWAS ) condemned the coup , suspended Mali ’ s membership , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also demanding Keita ’ s reinstatement .
The AU and ECOWAS have a credibility problem—they are not denouncing those who flout laws to hold on to power ; they complain only when the military seizes it .
Prominent Malians vehemently rejected the AU and ECOWAS responses , with the leader of the June 5 Movement coalition that spearheaded the protests defiantly proclaiming : “ We are going to cross ECOWAS ’ s red line.
” On Aug. 21 , huge crowds descended on Bamako ’ s Independence Square to celebrate and applaud the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ military intervention as a “ corrective ” or “ democratic ” coup , with an article in an influential South African newspaper sarcastically wondering if the AU ’ s job was “ to protect people from authoritarian regimes or to protect authoritarian regimes from their people ?
” In the ultimate irony , Ivory Coast President Alassane Ouattara , who is now officially running for a third term in blatant defiance of term limits , was dispatched to Mali as one of the ECOWAS delegates to demand a return to constitutional order .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ problem—these organizations and their leaders are not denouncing those who flout laws to hold on to power ; they complain only when the military seizes it .
Coming on the heels of ostensibly legal maneuvers—that can be more accurately described as “ constitutional coups ” —in two of Mali ’ s southern neighbors , Ivory Coast and Guinea , where incumbent presidents are extending their terms without any rebuke from the AU or African leaders , the Mali coup has exposed Africa ’ s double standards in dealing with military coups and constitutional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seizure or retention of power and both must be condemned with equal force .
The wave of democratization in the 1990s and prominence of the idea of human rights unsettled the foundations of the OAU .
With the continent virtually free from colonialism and apartheid on the verge of collapse , domestic politics was no longer a no-go area .
The OAU recognized peace and security as preconditions for economic development , and the denial of rights and lack of democracy were linked to insecurity .
This led to the formal recognition of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Accordingly , in 1997 , the OAU for the first time officially denounced a military coup in Sierra Leone .
Three years later , it endorsed the 2000 Lomé Declaration on the Framework for an OAU Response to Unconstitutional Changes of Government .
The OAU and its successor , the AU , have since adopted a zero-tolerance policy toward coups .
The AU Constitutive Act also recognizes the authority of the union to forcefully intervene in cases of war crimes , genocide , and crimes against humanity .
Although military coups have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ recognize the primacy of civilian rule , as they almost immediately proclaim themselves “ transitional ” and promise a return to civilian leadership .
Indeed , the Malian junta has promised elections within a “ reasonable ” amount of time .
But today ’ s coups are not the same as those that took place in the Cold War era .
Recent coups on the continent have become more complex , and the resilience of authoritarianism and consequent popular protests have created an opening for the military .
Consider Africa ’ s three @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 2017 , Sudan in 2019 , and Mali in 2020 .
In Zimbabwe , the military intervention was effectively an extension of internal struggles within the ruling party , with the military siding with the rebel faction .
Rather than removing then-President Robert Mugabe , the military engaged in a show of strength and party manipulation to force Mugabe ’ s formal resignation , under threat of potential impeachment .
The rebel faction and the military also orchestrated large demonstrations to pressure Mugabe to resign .
The AU initially seemed to call the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ walked back the characterization .
Zimbabwe was never suspended from membership .
Despite the AU ’ s reluctance , Zimbabwe ’ s new president , Emmerson Mnangagwa , has effectively continued the authoritarian practices and heavy-handedness of his predecessor , as the recent massive crackdown on opposition voices demonstrates .
The intervention of the Sudanese military was more clear-cut .
Following months of massive protests against Omar al-Bashir ’ s regime , the military removed Bashir in April 2019 .
The AU did not immediately suspend Sudan , instead engaging in negotiations to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ country was suspended two months later and only after a bloody military crackdown on protesters that killed more than 100 people .
The Mali coup imitated the Sudanese and Zimbabwean script .
The military intervention followed months of protests against Keita .
ECOWAS ’ s efforts to find a negotiated solution failed , as it did not have the mandate to support the opposition ’ s insistence on Keita ’ s departure , instead proposing a compromise unity government .
A mutiny on a military base on the outskirts of Bamako quickly morphed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Keita and securing his formal resignation .
Nevertheless , unlike in Sudan and Zimbabwe , the AU immediately suspended Mali .
The strong response likely occurred because the AU expected a strong ECOWAS response and needed to avoid divergent approaches .
Regardless , the inconsistencies in the AU ’ s response to power grabs undermine its credibility .
In recognition of the new trick in authoritarian toolboxes , the 2007 African Charter on Democracy , Elections and Governance prohibits “ any amendment or revision of the constitution or legal instruments , which is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ change of government.
” This vague standard was a compromise following the rejection of a proposal to specifically impose a two-term limit on presidencies across the continent .
Despite this normative standard , the AU has yet to seriously confront an incumbent president for manipulating constitutional rules to entrench their regime , other than a failed AU Commission effort challenging the former Burundian president in 2015 .
The AU has yet to seriously confront an incumbent president for manipulating constitutional rules to entrench their regime .
Just a few weeks before the Mali @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ( who is 78 ) announced that he would make a “ real sacrifice ” to run for a third term , and a few days later the Guinean ruling party officially asked President Alpha Condé ( who is 82 ) to run for a third term .
Condé ’ s maneuver was particularly revealing .
The 2010 Guinean Constitution specifically banned amendments to the provision imposing two presidential term limits .
Despite the prohibition , Condé orchestrated this March the adoption of an ostensibly new constitution , in preparation for planned elections @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the new constitution involves its silence regarding whether terms served before its adoption count toward term limits .
Ouattara had similarly overseen the adoption of a new constitution in 2016 .
He promised not to seek a third term , but the new constitution didn ’ t mention prior terms served .
After claiming that the new constitution had reset the term count , allowing him to run for two new terms , and months of equivocation , Ouattara instead announced a successor in March .
The unexpected death of that designated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ term temptation , to which Ouattara succumbed .
Despite these highly questionable moves , the AU and ECOWAS have been silent .
Constitutional coups have been just as destabilizing as military coups ; one need only compare the public ’ s relative welcoming of the Malian coup with the protests and instability in Guinea and Ivory CoastConstitutional coups have been just as destabilizing as military coups ; one need only compare the public ’ s relative welcoming of the Malian coup with the protests and instability that the constitutional coups in Guinea and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the AU and ECOWAS ’ s zero-tolerance policy toward the military option coexists with a permissive policy toward the constitutional route .
Even as Guineans continue to protest and brutal security crackdowns have claimed several lives , there was no official rebuke .
Ivorians have also taken to the streets , and many have been killed .
The protest fever is likely to continue as Election Day approaches , and there is fear that ethno-religious and regional tensions that precipitated the short civil war there in 2010 could return .
This double standard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the AU as a “ Club of Incumbents , ” protecting their own grip on power while undermining the AU ’ s moral standing to reject popularly supported coups .
The AU has failed to address this issue despite a range of meetings , studies , and reports .
The stark contrast of the situations in Mali and its southern neighbors should provide it with a new impetus to engage in deep soul-searching to put an end to its double standards and defend democratic norms .
First , the African Union should flesh @ @ @ @ @ @ @ constitutional coups .
It could start with a resolution banning any attempts to amend constitutions to run for additional presidential terms .
Despite past failures , the resistance to such an effort could be overcome , as there are now few countries without constitutional term limits .
A red line across Africa would insulate the standard from future efforts to create lifelong presidencies .
Second , the determination of whether there is the threat of unconstitutional change or retention of government power lies with the AU ’ s Peace and Security Council , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of predictability and consistency requires the deployment of an autonomous technical body to assist the council in systematically monitoring , determining , and tackling threats to and violations of the prohibition against unconstitutional change .
There is no place for military putsches in 21st-century Africa .
But the AU ’ s zero-tolerance policy toward army-led coups must be applied with equal fervor against democracy-stunting constitutional coups .
Anything less will fail to restore the AU ’ s legitimacy among ordinary Africans .

On Aug. 18, following months of protests, elements within the Malian army took it upon themselves to remove President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita from power. Keita subsequently resigned and dissolved parliament.
On Aug. 18, following months of protests, elements within the Malian army took it upon themselves to remove President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita from power. Keita subsequently resigned and dissolved parliament.
The coup is the third in Africa in the past three years and has yet again demonstrated that, while the heyday of military coups may have passed, they are certainly not entirely out of fashion.
The African Union (AU) and the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) condemned the coup, suspended Mali’s membership, and demanded a return to constitutional order—with ECOWAS also demanding Keita’s reinstatement.
The AU and ECOWAS have a credibility problem—they are not denouncing those who flout laws to hold on to power; they complain only when the military seizes it.
Prominent Malians vehemently rejected the AU and ECOWAS responses, with the leader of the June 5 Movement coalition that spearheaded the protests defiantly proclaiming: “We are going to cross ECOWAS’s red line.” On Aug. 21, huge crowds descended on Bamako’s Independence Square to celebrate and applaud the coup leaders.
Observers also defended the military intervention as a “corrective” or “democratic” coup, with an article in an influential South African newspaper sarcastically wondering if the AU’s job was “to protect people from authoritarian regimes or to protect authoritarian regimes from their people?”
In the ultimate irony, Ivory Coast President Alassane Ouattara, who is now officially running for a third term in blatant defiance of term limits, was dispatched to Mali as one of the ECOWAS delegates to demand a return to constitutional order.
The AU and ECOWAS have a credibility problem—these organizations and their leaders are not denouncing those who flout laws to hold on to power; they complain only when the military seizes it.
Coming on the heels of ostensibly legal maneuvers—that can be more accurately described as “constitutional coups”—in two of Mali’s southern neighbors, Ivory Coast and Guinea, where incumbent presidents are extending their terms without any rebuke from the AU or African leaders, the Mali coup has exposed Africa’s double standards in dealing with military coups and constitutional ones; both lead to the unlawful seizure or retention of power and both must be condemned with equal force.
When the Organization of African Unity (OAU), the AU’s predecessor, was formed in 1963, its principal aim was to battle neocolonialism and foreign interference. This principle of noninterference meant that the OAU rejected even efforts to comment on political developments in its member states. Leaders were accepted as legitimate regardless of the manner through which they came to power or the way they treated their population. Indeed, most of the leaders either came to power through coups or sat atop brutal one-party states.
The wave of democratization in the 1990s and prominence of the idea of human rights unsettled the foundations of the OAU. With the continent virtually free from colonialism and apartheid on the verge of collapse, domestic politics was no longer a no-go area.
The OAU recognized peace and security as preconditions for economic development, and the denial of rights and lack of democracy were linked to insecurity. This led to the formal recognition of elections as the only path to power.
Accordingly, in 1997, the OAU for the first time officially denounced a military coup in Sierra Leone. Three years later, it endorsed the 2000 Lomé Declaration on the Framework for an OAU Response to Unconstitutional Changes of Government.
The OAU and its successor, the AU, have since adopted a zero-tolerance policy toward coups. The AU Constitutive Act also recognizes the authority of the union to forcefully intervene in cases of war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity.
Although military coups have not disappeared, even coup leaders now recognize the primacy of civilian rule, as they almost immediately proclaim themselves “transitional” and promise a return to civilian leadership. Indeed, the Malian junta has promised elections within a “reasonable” amount of time.
But today’s coups are not the same as those that took place in the Cold War era. Recent coups on the continent have become more complex, and the resilience of authoritarianism and consequent popular protests have created an opening for the military.
Consider Africa’s three most recent military coups: Zimbabwe in 2017, Sudan in 2019, and Mali in 2020.
In Zimbabwe, the military intervention was effectively an extension of internal struggles within the ruling party, with the military siding with the rebel faction. Rather than removing then-President Robert Mugabe, the military engaged in a show of strength and party manipulation to force Mugabe’s formal resignation, under threat of potential impeachment. The rebel faction and the military also orchestrated large demonstrations to pressure Mugabe to resign.
The AU initially seemed to call the move a coup, but it subsequently walked back the characterization. Zimbabwe was never suspended from membership. Despite the AU’s reluctance, Zimbabwe’s new president, Emmerson Mnangagwa, has effectively continued the authoritarian practices and heavy-handedness of his predecessor, as the recent massive crackdown on opposition voices demonstrates.
The intervention of the Sudanese military was more clear-cut. Following months of massive protests against Omar al-Bashir’s regime, the military removed Bashir in April 2019. The AU did not immediately suspend Sudan, instead engaging in negotiations to ensure return to civilian rule. The country was suspended two months later and only after a bloody military crackdown on protesters that killed more than 100 people.
The Mali coup imitated the Sudanese and Zimbabwean script. The military intervention followed months of protests against Keita. ECOWAS’s efforts to find a negotiated solution failed, as it did not have the mandate to support the opposition’s insistence on Keita’s departure, instead proposing a compromise unity government. A mutiny on a military base on the outskirts of Bamako quickly morphed into a coup and succeeded in apprehending Keita and securing his formal resignation.
Nevertheless, unlike in Sudan and Zimbabwe, the AU immediately suspended Mali. The strong response likely occurred because the AU expected a strong ECOWAS response and needed to avoid divergent approaches. Regardless, the inconsistencies in the AU’s response to power grabs undermine its credibility.
The AU has repeatedly condoned constitutional maneuvers effectively establishing life presidencies, while rejecting the military removal of authoritarian regimes. Many African leaders have reversed concessions in the 1990s that sought to check presidential powers, notably through presidential term limits.
In recognition of the new trick in authoritarian toolboxes, the 2007 African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Governance prohibits “any amendment or revision of the constitution or legal instruments, which is an infringement on the principles of democratic change of government.” This vague standard was a compromise following the rejection of a proposal to specifically impose a two-term limit on presidencies across the continent.
Despite this normative standard, the AU has yet to seriously confront an incumbent president for manipulating constitutional rules to entrench their regime, other than a failed AU Commission effort challenging the former Burundian president in 2015.
The AU has yet to seriously confront an incumbent president for manipulating constitutional rules to entrench their regime.
Just a few weeks before the Mali coup, Ivory Coast’s Ouattara (who is 78) announced that he would make a “real sacrifice” to run for a third term, and a few days later the Guinean ruling party officially asked President Alpha Condé (who is 82) to run for a third term.
Condé’s maneuver was particularly revealing. The 2010 Guinean Constitution specifically banned amendments to the provision imposing two presidential term limits. Despite the prohibition, Condé orchestrated this March the adoption of an ostensibly new constitution, in preparation for planned elections in October. The most consequential part of the new constitution involves its silence regarding whether terms served before its adoption count toward term limits.
Ouattara had similarly overseen the adoption of a new constitution in 2016. He promised not to seek a third term, but the new constitution didn’t mention prior terms served. After claiming that the new constitution had reset the term count, allowing him to run for two new terms, and months of equivocation, Ouattara instead announced a successor in March.
The unexpected death of that designated successor in July brought back the third term temptation, to which Ouattara succumbed. Despite these highly questionable moves, the AU and ECOWAS have been silent.
Constitutional coups have been just as destabilizing as military coups; one need only compare the public’s relative welcoming of the Malian coup with the protests and instability in Guinea and Ivory CoastConstitutional coups have been just as destabilizing as military coups; one need only compare the public’s relative welcoming of the Malian coup with the protests and instability that the constitutional coups in Guinea and Ivory Coast have generated. Nevertheless, the AU and ECOWAS’s zero-tolerance policy toward the military option coexists with a permissive policy toward the constitutional route.
Even as Guineans continue to protest and brutal security crackdowns have claimed several lives, there was no official rebuke. Ivorians have also taken to the streets, and many have been killed. The protest fever is likely to continue as Election Day approaches, and there is fear that ethno-religious and regional tensions that precipitated the short civil war there in 2010 could return.
This double standard, hypocrisy, and inconsistency have exposed the AU as a “Club of Incumbents,” protecting their own grip on power while undermining the AU’s moral standing to reject popularly supported coups.
The AU has failed to address this issue despite a range of meetings, studies, and reports. The stark contrast of the situations in Mali and its southern neighbors should provide it with a new impetus to engage in deep soul-searching to put an end to its double standards and defend democratic norms.
First, the African Union should flesh out key elements of the prohibition against constitutional coups. It could start with a resolution banning any attempts to amend constitutions to run for additional presidential terms. Despite past failures, the resistance to such an effort could be overcome, as there are now few countries without constitutional term limits. A red line across Africa would insulate the standard from future efforts to create lifelong presidencies.
Second, the determination of whether there is the threat of unconstitutional change or retention of government power lies with the AU’s Peace and Security Council, a purely political organ. A semblance of predictability and consistency requires the deployment of an autonomous technical body to assist the council in systematically monitoring, determining, and tackling threats to and violations of the prohibition against unconstitutional change.
There is no place for military putsches in 21st-century Africa. But the AU’s zero-tolerance policy toward army-led coups must be applied with equal fervor against democracy-stunting constitutional coups. Anything less will fail to restore the AU’s legitimacy among ordinary Africans.


foreignpolicy--2020-08-27--Inside Syria’s Secret Coronavirus Crisis

At 4 p.m. on July 20 , a heaving , feverish , and very ill Anas al-Abdullah ( whose name , like most of those mentioned in this article , has been changed ) visited al-Mujtahid Hospital in Damascus .
Within 12 hours , he had died and was soon after buried in Najha cemetery in the desert on the outskirts of the capital .
Najha is best known as the place where the regime allegedly buried some of the hundreds of thousands victims of its notorious prison system .
However , recent satellite imagery and photos circulating online reveal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ final resting place of Syrians who have died due to the coronavirus .
Doctors told Abdullah ’ s grieving family he had COVID-19 , and his burial at Najha by state officials confirmed it .
Yet the death certificate mentioned only pneumonia as the cause , leaving the family perplexed .
Abdullah ’ s father , a rebellious cleric who supported the uprising against Bashar al-Assad , was often chased by the state ’ s intelligence services and fled to Qatar fearing persecution .
Abdullah , however , accepted the unspoken but brutally @ @ @ @ @ @ @ clan at your peril and stayed in the country .
He was not targeted by the regime but was killed by its inefficiency nonetheless .
He died as he gasped for air without a respirator in a major hospital that was one of the three in Damascus supposedly equipped to deal with coronavirus patients .
His brother spoke to Foreign Policy on the condition of anonymity .
“ At first , doctors gave him a respirator but later took it away to resuscitate somebody else , ” he said .
“ That is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ don ’ t know if the doctors have been asked to hide the real cause so the government can keep the numbers down , but it is all very confusing .
But I can ’ t say more—you know our situation here.
” According to the Syrian government , just over 2,300 people have tested positive , and fewer than a hundred have died of the virus .
But these are not even a fraction of the total cases , said more than a dozen Syrians , including those who suspected that their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , several others who were too scared to report that they had been infected , and health workers who complained about an absence of contact tracing and a dire shortage of the basic safety equipment needed to save themselves and their patients .
At least six top clerics in Damascus , three media professionals , two judges , and several members of the Syrian Constitutional Committee have tested positive .
In further evidence of the uncontrolled spread of the virus , Jordan shut down its northern border crossing , about 70 miles from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rise in infections coming through Syria .
Speaking to Abdullah ’ s brother led Foreign Policy to scores of others in quarantine in just one neighborhood in Damascus , al-Midan , where Abdullah lived .
They claimed to know hundreds more .
Abdullah ’ s nephew and his neighbor are both symptomatic , but they preferred to quarantine at home and avoid state-run hospitals as long as they could .
“ I am afraid to go to a quarantine center .
They are like jails , ” the nephew said .
“ I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Quarantine centers are like the detention centers where they torture civilians and leave them to die , ” the neighbor added .
Their comments reflected a deep fear of the state in the minds of many Syrians who have , for so long , been subject to the repression of the state , arrested and thrown into dungeons on the slightest suspicion of conspiring against the regime .
One reason behind the low official coronavirus count in Syria is underreporting by those who have it .
Many say they want to avoid being @ @ @ @ @ @ @ political views or are afraid of being left to die in dilapidated health care centers .
But a bigger obstruction in finding the actual tally is the systematic refusal of the state to confront the problem .
An orthopedic surgeon at al-Mujtahid Hospital who also requested anonymity said he lost his father to the virus and is struggling to get tests for 30 other relatives showing obvious symptoms .
He said no one from the Health Ministry had tried to reach out to contact-trace and mitigate the spread .
“ Hospitals need to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ they are only testing 10 percent at best , ” the surgeon said .
“ There are just about 13-15 respirators in al-Mujtahid and 130 or so in all of Damascus.
” He forecast that at the current pace 1 in 4 Damascenes could be infected in the coming weeks .
“ The government knows , but we don ’ t understand why it is not revealing the real situation on the ground , ” he said .
Two sources told Foreign Policy that the area around Damascus is dotted with members of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and the fighters of its Lebanese ally Hezbollah .
Bassam Barabandi , a former Syrian diplomat , claimed the virus made its way into Syria through Iranian visitors .
“ The hub has now moved from Iran to Syria , ” he said .
While the Damascus regime imposed early lockdown measures in March , they were quickly lifted due to economic distress .
Keeping the official numbers low seems to be an attempt by the regime to salvage its reputation among loyalists without jeopardizing relations with its Iranian patrons .
“ Coronavirus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” Barabandi added .
“ The loyalists will say , ‘ You can not provide food , you can not provide electricity , and now we are dying because of the virus.
’ That is why the regime is keeping the numbers low , to give the impression that everything is under control.
” As the military conflict of the last nine years subsided , regime loyalists expected rewards .
But Assad has nothing to offer since the expected inflow of reconstruction funds has been halted by , among other causes , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Caesar Syria Civilian Protection Act , which is intended to prevent funds reaching regime officials but is also a major disincentive to investment .
Half of the population is out of work , and more than 80 percent of Syrians are living below the poverty line , all of whom have reason to feel cheated .
Assad ’ s allies , Russia and China , sent some aid to combat the coronavirus but not enough to meet all the country ’ s needs .
The United Arab Emirates also promised support to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ aim of inching closer to a regime it once derided .
The World Health Organization ( WHO ) said it had provided to Syria 4.4 million pieces of personal protective equipment , such as masks , gloves , and sanitizer , and that it was making sure at least a 1,000 tests a day were conducted .
However , it acknowledged much more was needed to contain the virus .
Akjemal Magtymova , the head of mission and WHO representative in Syria , told Foreign Policy that a glaring dearth of health care @ @ @ @ @ @ @ country during the nearly 10-year war , is a major impediment .
But sanctions on Syria , and the U.S. slashing of WHO funding , have made it harder to help the Syrian people , she added .
While the Assad regime has not been known for its concern for ordinary Syrians , it now seems to even be turning its back even on its loyalists .
Many Syrians fear that herd immunity has been adopted as an unstated but official policy .
Haggard and striving to feed their families , Syrians have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but no longer expect to ever come .

The current running gag among Damascenes making light of their dire circumstances is that the official number of coronavirus infections in Syria is as accurate as that of the Syrian pound’s official exchange rate with the U.S. dollar—that is to say, not at all. Syria—forced to deal with war, sanctions, and economic crisis—has long been rumored to be suffering from a major coronavirus outbreak that the regime won’t admit. Foreign Policy has now confirmed that the outbreak is real—and the regime’s motivations in denying it are even more cynical than they appear on the surface.
The current running gag among Damascenes making light of their dire circumstances is that the official number of coronavirus infections in Syria is as accurate as that of the Syrian pound’s official exchange rate with the U.S. dollar—that is to say, not at all. Syria—forced to deal with war, sanctions, and economic crisis—has long been rumored to be suffering from a major coronavirus outbreak that the regime won’t admit. Foreign Policy has now confirmed that the outbreak is real—and the regime’s motivations in denying it are even more cynical than they appear on the surface.
At 4 p.m. on July 20, a heaving, feverish, and very ill Anas al-Abdullah (whose name, like most of those mentioned in this article, has been changed) visited al-Mujtahid Hospital in Damascus. Within 12 hours, he had died and was soon after buried in Najha cemetery in the desert on the outskirts of the capital.
Najha is best known as the place where the regime allegedly buried some of the hundreds of thousands victims of its notorious prison system. However, recent satellite imagery and photos circulating online reveal that Najha has now turned into the final resting place of Syrians who have died due to the coronavirus. Doctors told Abdullah’s grieving family he had COVID-19, and his burial at Najha by state officials confirmed it. Yet the death certificate mentioned only pneumonia as the cause, leaving the family perplexed.
Abdullah’s father, a rebellious cleric who supported the uprising against Bashar al-Assad, was often chased by the state’s intelligence services and fled to Qatar fearing persecution. Abdullah, however, accepted the unspoken but brutally enforced rule that you challenge the Assad clan at your peril and stayed in the country. He was not targeted by the regime but was killed by its inefficiency nonetheless. He died as he gasped for air without a respirator in a major hospital that was one of the three in Damascus supposedly equipped to deal with coronavirus patients. His brother spoke to Foreign Policy on the condition of anonymity. “At first, doctors gave him a respirator but later took it away to resuscitate somebody else,” he said. “That is what led to his death. We don’t know if the doctors have been asked to hide the real cause so the government can keep the numbers down, but it is all very confusing. But I can’t say more—you know our situation here.”
According to the Syrian government, just over 2,300 people have tested positive, and fewer than a hundred have died of the virus. But these are not even a fraction of the total cases, said more than a dozen Syrians, including those who suspected that their family members had died of the coronavirus, several others who were too scared to report that they had been infected, and health workers who complained about an absence of contact tracing and a dire shortage of the basic safety equipment needed to save themselves and their patients.
At least six top clerics in Damascus, three media professionals, two judges, and several members of the Syrian Constitutional Committee have tested positive. In further evidence of the uncontrolled spread of the virus, Jordan shut down its northern border crossing, about 70 miles from Damascus, after it recorded a steep rise in infections coming through Syria.
Speaking to Abdullah’s brother led Foreign Policy to scores of others in quarantine in just one neighborhood in Damascus, al-Midan, where Abdullah lived. They claimed to know hundreds more. Abdullah’s nephew and his neighbor are both symptomatic, but they preferred to quarantine at home and avoid state-run hospitals as long as they could. “I am afraid to go to a quarantine center. They are like jails,” the nephew said. “I am afraid of the government.”
“Quarantine centers are like the detention centers where they torture civilians and leave them to die,” the neighbor added. Their comments reflected a deep fear of the state in the minds of many Syrians who have, for so long, been subject to the repression of the state, arrested and thrown into dungeons on the slightest suspicion of conspiring against the regime.
One reason behind the low official coronavirus count in Syria is underreporting by those who have it. Many say they want to avoid being noticed by the authorities owing to their political views or are afraid of being left to die in dilapidated health care centers. But a bigger obstruction in finding the actual tally is the systematic refusal of the state to confront the problem.
An orthopedic surgeon at al-Mujtahid Hospital who also requested anonymity said he lost his father to the virus and is struggling to get tests for 30 other relatives showing obvious symptoms. He said no one from the Health Ministry had tried to reach out to contact-trace and mitigate the spread. “Hospitals need to test 10,000 people a day, but they are only testing 10 percent at best,” the surgeon said. “There are just about 13-15 respirators in al-Mujtahid and 130 or so in all of Damascus.” He forecast that at the current pace 1 in 4 Damascenes could be infected in the coming weeks. “The government knows, but we don’t understand why it is not revealing the real situation on the ground,” he said.
Two sources told Foreign Policy that the area around Damascus is dotted with members of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and the fighters of its Lebanese ally Hezbollah. Bassam Barabandi, a former Syrian diplomat, claimed the virus made its way into Syria through Iranian visitors. “The hub has now moved from Iran to Syria,” he said. While the Damascus regime imposed early lockdown measures in March, they were quickly lifted due to economic distress. Keeping the official numbers low seems to be an attempt by the regime to salvage its reputation among loyalists without jeopardizing relations with its Iranian patrons. “Coronavirus cases affect the legitimacy of the regime,” Barabandi added. “The loyalists will say, ‘You cannot provide food, you cannot provide electricity, and now we are dying because of the virus.’ That is why the regime is keeping the numbers low, to give the impression that everything is under control.”
As the military conflict of the last nine years subsided, regime loyalists expected rewards. But Assad has nothing to offer since the expected inflow of reconstruction funds has been halted by, among other causes, sanctions imposed by the United States under the Caesar Syria Civilian Protection Act, which is intended to prevent funds reaching regime officials but is also a major disincentive to investment. Half of the population is out of work, and more than 80 percent of Syrians are living below the poverty line, all of whom have reason to feel cheated. Assad’s allies, Russia and China, sent some aid to combat the coronavirus but not enough to meet all the country’s needs. The United Arab Emirates also promised support to fight the pandemic, with the strategic aim of inching closer to a regime it once derided.
The World Health Organization (WHO) said it had provided to Syria 4.4 million pieces of personal protective equipment, such as masks, gloves, and sanitizer, and that it was making sure at least a 1,000 tests a day were conducted. However, it acknowledged much more was needed to contain the virus. Akjemal Magtymova, the head of mission and WHO representative in Syria, told Foreign Policy that a glaring dearth of health care professionals, many of whom fled the country during the nearly 10-year war, is a major impediment. But sanctions on Syria, and the U.S. slashing of WHO funding, have made it harder to help the Syrian people, she added.
While the Assad regime has not been known for its concern for ordinary Syrians, it now seems to even be turning its back even on its loyalists. Many Syrians fear that herd immunity has been adopted as an unstated but official policy. Haggard and striving to feed their families, Syrians have become fatalistic about the help they need but no longer expect to ever come.


foreignpolicy--2020-08-27--The Pakistan Army’s Belt and Road Putsch

When Pakistan entered its 22nd International Monetary Fund program last year , plenty of observers assumed that the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor ( CPEC ) —described by Beijing as a “ flagship project ” in its broader Belt and Road Initiative—would be one of the casualties .
After all , with the IMF mandating cuts in public sector spending , a reduction of Pakistan ’ s deficit , and tightening of monetary policy , it made sense that the vast loans and spending associated with CPEC would have to stop .
And further , China had already started to have misgivings @ @ @ @ @ @ @ frontier markets like Pakistan .
It was said that CPEC—billed as a $ 62 billion connectivity initiative linking China ’ s landlocked Xinjiang region with Pakistan ’ s Arabian Sea ports—would likely continue only symbolically so as to enable the two stalwart allies to save face .
But today , over a year into its latest IMF program , Pakistan is actually doubling down on CPEC as a major vehicle for economic growth and investment .
New or stalled hydroelectric and rail projects are moving forward .
And as CPEC regains momentum , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Pakistan Army , which has gone from a behind-the-scenes role in championing the project to publicly overseeing its overall implementation .
For Pakistan , the renewed emphasis on CPEC and the growing role for the Army are double-edged swords .
In the short term , paired together , they will inject much-needed aid and investment into the Pakistani economy .
And a tighter embrace with China will bolster Pakistan ’ s security against archrival India .
But , in the long term—absent civilian ownership , renegotiated terms , and structural reforms—CPEC may burden @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , cannibalize its federal budget , entangle Pakistan in broader U.S.-Chinese tensions , and further entrench the Army in the country ’ s politics and economy .
That never quite sat well with the Army—in part because the prime minister at the time was Nawaz Sharif , a man the military twice deposed from office .
When Sharif came to power , he continued to call for the prosecution of Pervez Musharraf , the general who had sacked him in 1999 , for high treason .
In pushing for Musharraf ’ s treason @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the former general ’ s execution , Sharif crossed a red line for the Army , which would in turn keep his government on the defensive until he was permanently disqualified from holding public office by the Supreme Court in 2017 .
The former prime minister and his brother were buoyed by easy access to Chinese financing for energy and infrastructure projects .
Such tensions would be enough to sink a different civilian government .
But in this case , the former prime minister and his brother Shehbaz Sharif , who was serving @ @ @ @ @ @ @ most populous province , Punjab , were buoyed by easy access to Chinese financing for energy and infrastructure projects .
They directed these funds toward boosting road , digital , and economic connectivity with China ; addressing Pakistan ’ s endemic power shortages ; and strengthening their party ’ s fortunes ahead of elections slated for 2018 .
For example , in 2016 , Sharif pledged to end all scheduled blackouts within two years .
The vast majority of initial CPEC funds went toward a building spree of power plants in order to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in particular , was able to cut through red tape and get power plants completed in record time .
In urban areas , their strategy at first seemed to work .
Power blackouts significantly declined .
Economic growth ticked up , and public opinion polls in late 2017 pointed toward a sizable lead for Sharif ’ s party , the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz ( PML-N ) .
But the gambit was fiscally unsustainable , relying on comparatively expensive electric power projects and putting off needed reforms of the power sector , including the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the debt in Pakistan ’ s power sector has only continued to grow—reaching over $ 12 billion this year .
Coupled with other potential white elephants , including a commuter rail line in Lahore , the Sharifs ’ base , CPEC spending became enmeshed in Pakistan ’ s preexisting power disputes , including the civil-military rivalry .
And in the end , it didn ’ t work to keep the PML-N in power .
Months before the election , ex-cricketer Imran Khan ’ s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf ( PTI ) made up considerable ground @ @ @ @ @ @ @ toward PTI , combined with preelection defections of strong candidates to Khan ’ s party—induced by the Army , which could not countenance another term for the PML-N—gave Khan ’ s party a plurality of seats in the National Assembly , enabling it to form a coalition government .
The uncertain feelings were to some degree mutual .
PTI inherited a coal- and infrastructure-heavy CPEC portfolio at odds with its own developmental priorities , which leaned toward renewable energy and social welfare .
And with multiple economic crises looming thanks to the PML-N @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had to make tough policy choices fast .
Khan ’ s commerce advisor , Abdul Razak Dawood , told the Financial Times a month after coming into power that the government should take a year to reassess CPEC .
His suggestion caused a storm , and the party was forced to backtrack .
Still , CPEC—and , with it , the Pakistani economy—did slow down .
Pakistan dragged its feet on expensive , big-ticket projects like upgrading the country ’ s main railway line , the ML-1 , which stretches from the port @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Punjab and on to Peshawar , near Afghanistan .
By last year , the estimated cost of the project had ballooned to $ 9.2 billion , from the original $ 8.2 billion .
Now , two years into Khan ’ s tenure as prime minister , relations with China have improved , but both Beijing and the Army have lost faith in many of those who surround the prime minister .
Meanwhile , some cabinet ministers , including the planning minister , the lead coordinator for CPEC on the Pakistani side , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has won back a more pronounced role in governance , including with CPEC .
This marks a reversal of the back-to-the-barracks policy initiated in 2007 by then-Army chief Ashfaq Parvez Kayani when he succeeded the embattled Musharraf .
Last November , a retired senior Army officer , Asim Bajwa , was even appointed by Khan as chairman of the CPEC Authority , a newly established body to oversee and facilitate corridor projects .
Bajwa retired from the Army just two months before his appointment , and his last posting was as head of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which covers the province of Baluchistan , home to the Chinese-run port of Gwadar , a key node in the CPEC .
Bajwa was undoubtedly selected out of a belief that he could address security concerns in particular .
Beijing is worried about terrorism in Baluchistan , where separatists have stepped up attacks on Chinese targets in recent years .
Bajwa also served as lead military spokesman for three years and is credited as having taken the Army ’ s media management game into the digital era .
The Army sees CPEC as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ propaganda campaign ( for example , several senior U.S. officials have publicly questioned the sustainability , transparency , and even the legitimacy of the program ) and wants to fight back .
But there ’ s also indication that the Army has tried to use Bajwa and CPEC as Trojan horses to claim a greater share of power back from the civilian government .
Last month , Pakistan ’ s Express Tribune reported on proposed legislation that would have radically enhanced the powers of the CPEC Authority , nearly converting it into a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have cut Pakistan ’ s Planning Commission—which has served as the country ’ s chief economic policy development body since the 1950s—out of the picture on CPEC , giving the CPEC Authority sole power to conceive and develop the projects .
In other words , the CPEC Authority , effectively controlled by the Army , would exercise control over a large percentage of the country ’ s development budget—a power that is even more pronounced in a period of austerity .
The CPEC Authority would report directly to the prime minister but would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ directives “ to the extent that these are not inconsistent with the provisions ” of the proposed law .
The CPEC Authority could potentially even supersede the powers of the prime minister .
In a cabinet meeting this month , the most egregious elements were reportedly stripped out of the draft legislation , whose larger purpose is to formalize the CPEC Authority .
Nonetheless , the brazen attempt at commandeering CPEC reflects the Army ’ s enduring dislike of civilian rule .
There ’ s a lot we don ’ t know about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not adequately explained the fluctuations in the estimated project costs .
Loan terms from China are said to be very generous to Pakistan , but they ’ ve yet to be finalized .
Unconfirmed reports claim that the proposed grace period before repayments start may be extended from eight to 20 years , which—if true—would significantly ease Pakistan ’ s ability to repay the loan .
If and when completed , the ML-1 would increase the capacity and speed of Pakistan ’ s main railway line connecting its major cities and industrial hubs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the country needs to revamp its railways , which are underutilized for cargo and plagued by growing pension costs .
But as is the case with most CPEC infrastructure projects , Islamabad has yet to clearly explain how the country will generate the amount of traffic that will enable it to repay loans owed to Beijing .
Although Chinese and Pakistani officials tout the economic importance of the ML-1 , they ’ ve also referred to it as “ strategic.
” The line would mainly serve Pakistani commuters and companies , but—in combination @ @ @ @ @ @ @ future ( and unlikely ) railway line—it would also provide landlocked western China with better access to the sea .
China could make commercial use of the railway , but the term “ strategic ” can be seen as signaling that it may also serve as a potential ground line of communication for China ’ s army .
A similar point has been made about the Chinese-operated port of Gwadar , which sits just outside the Gulf of Oman near Iran , along Persian Gulf shipping lanes .
Proclamations of the ML-1 ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ world of China ’ s “ debt diplomacy ” make Beijing ’ s opposition to Pakistani attempts to multilateralize the project even more concerning .
In 2018 , Voice of America reported that Pakistan had given up attempts to bring the Asian Development Bank on board in 2017 after Beijing ’ s opposition .
Such facts , combined with the growing role of the Army , add heft to the claims of CPEC ’ s foreign detractors that the project is more strategic than economic .
China is indeed an essential defense and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Pakistan ’ s ability to deter and balance an increasingly aggressive Hindu nationalist India , most notably through the JF-17 fighter jet , which is jointly manufactured with China and will serve as the backbone of the Pakistan Air Force , to some extent replacing the American F-16 .
Pakistan is also reportedly the only country that has been given military access to China ’ s BeiDou satellite navigation system , which will help wean Pakistan off of Western location-guided missiles and communication systems .
Beijing has also stepped up in critical ways @ @ @ @ @ @ @ diplomatically and economically , demonstrating its reliability as an ally .
It has modified its language on the India-Pakistan Kashmir dispute , recognizing its international nature and emphasizing United Nations and related Security Council resolutions instead of simply terming the conflict a bilateral one the two countries must solve together .
By comparison , Pakistan ’ s longtime ally Saudi Arabia has refused to convene a high-level session of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation on Kashmir .
The Saudis ’ unwillingness to do so , combined with Pakistan ’ s growing proximity to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Arabia relationship , so much that Riyadh asked Islamabad to repay a $ 1 billion loan early this year .
Notably , Beijing provided Islamabad with equivalent funds “ within hours , ” according to the Financial Times , enabling it to repay Riyadh .
Beijing also recently agreed to provide Islamabad with early access to a coronavirus vaccine for one-fifth of its population—which may hasten Pakistan ’ s economic recovery .
Still , it is in Pakistan ’ s interest to cleanly separate the economic and strategic dimensions of the relationship with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ potentially dual-purpose infrastructure .
Blurring the lines between the two may have a deterrent effect on New Delhi , but it may also close off opportunities for trade and investment from other foreign sources wary of Beijing ’ s motives .
Pakistan ’ s pursuit of greater connectivity with Xinjiang , where China is waging a brutal campaign against Uighur and other Turkic Muslims , is also risk .
It increases Islamabad ’ s exposure to morally and legally hazardous entities that are now targets of U.S. sanctions .
That might be true @ @ @ @ @ @ @ means .
When it was launched , CPEC was purportedly intended to serve as a vehicle for integrating Pakistan into the world economy .
But the PML-N used it as a vehicle to drive an unsustainable , consumption-driven burst of growth ahead of the elections .
And today , the Army and other military services are keen on commandeering CPEC to address security concerns—or simply grab a piece of the economic and political pie , perhaps even through defense special economic zones .
Meanwhile , foreign direct investment remains limited to a few @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the growing local consumer market and overly generous concessions .
Pakistani business elite , meanwhile , have remained unable to tap into global export markets in a real way .
Exports make up only 10 percent of Pakistan ’ s gross domestic product , compared to 15 percent for Bangladesh and 19 percent for India .
Sustained growth in exports and foreign direct investment are vital for Pakistan to exit its historic boom-bust economic cycles and avert an impending low-growth trap .
Khan ’ s government achieved some initial success in renegotiating power @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the cost of electricity .
Talks with CPEC electric power producers must begin .
The country ’ s import tariff policy , currently focused on revenue-generation and protecting low-productivity local companies , should be reformed to promote value-added exports .
And Pakistan needs to enact legal and regulatory reforms that protect investors , allow for transparent dispute resolution , and encourage investment from beyond China .
Pakistan ’ s practice of bartering its strategic location for economic concessions has generally led to short-term gain and long-term pain .
Institutional and policy reform are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The Army ’ s growing role in CPEC and , more broadly , in Pakistan ’ s economic policymaking , will do little to push forward these necessary reforms , which require the buy-in of the country ’ s political and business elite and can only be born by consensus , not coercion .
Should the Army command the heights of Pakistan ’ s economy , the country ’ s fragile democracy would erode , and its already sclerotic bureaucracy , unsure of who is truly in charge , could be paralyzed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ military services play critical roles in securing CPEC , their mission creep may severely distort economic policymaking with their commercial and strategic interests cannibalizing Pakistan ’ s budget and taking precedence over Khan ’ s stated focus on developing human capital in Pakistan and improving the welfare of its people .
The average citizen invariably ends up as the loser in the country ’ s unending elite tug of war .
The Army can help break that cycle by not getting in Khan ’ s way .

When Pakistan entered its 22nd International Monetary Fund program last year, plenty of observers assumed that the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC)—described by Beijing as a “flagship project” in its broader Belt and Road Initiative—would be one of the casualties.
When Pakistan entered its 22nd International Monetary Fund program last year, plenty of observers assumed that the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC)—described by Beijing as a “flagship project” in its broader Belt and Road Initiative—would be one of the casualties.
After all, with the IMF mandating cuts in public sector spending, a reduction of Pakistan’s deficit, and tightening of monetary policy, it made sense that the vast loans and spending associated with CPEC would have to stop. And further, China had already started to have misgivings about lending and investment in poorly governed frontier markets like Pakistan. It was said that CPEC—billed as a $62 billion connectivity initiative linking China’s landlocked Xinjiang region with Pakistan’s Arabian Sea ports—would likely continue only symbolically so as to enable the two stalwart allies to save face.
But today, over a year into its latest IMF program, Pakistan is actually doubling down on CPEC as a major vehicle for economic growth and investment. New or stalled hydroelectric and rail projects are moving forward. And as CPEC regains momentum, it has a new steward: the Pakistan Army, which has gone from a behind-the-scenes role in championing the project to publicly overseeing its overall implementation.
For Pakistan, the renewed emphasis on CPEC and the growing role for the Army are double-edged swords. In the short term, paired together, they will inject much-needed aid and investment into the Pakistani economy. And a tighter embrace with China will bolster Pakistan’s security against archrival India.
But, in the long term—absent civilian ownership, renegotiated terms, and structural reforms—CPEC may burden Pakistan with unaffordable electricity and unsustainable debt, cannibalize its federal budget, entangle Pakistan in broader U.S.-Chinese tensions, and further entrench the Army in the country’s politics and economy.
The announcement of CPEC in 2013 marked a departure in China-Pakistan relations, adding an emphasis on economic development to a relationship that had been largely confined to the diplomatic and military realms. The scheme paved the way for a surge in aid and investment from Beijing, and by giving Pakistan’s democratically elected civilian leadership the power to determine how tens of billions of dollars in Chinese aid and investment would be directed, it also gave the civilians a big say in the country’s most vital strategic relationship.
That never quite sat well with the Army—in part because the prime minister at the time was Nawaz Sharif, a man the military twice deposed from office. When Sharif came to power, he continued to call for the prosecution of Pervez Musharraf, the general who had sacked him in 1999, for high treason. In pushing for Musharraf’s treason trial, which could have resulted in the former general’s execution, Sharif crossed a red line for the Army, which would in turn keep his government on the defensive until he was permanently disqualified from holding public office by the Supreme Court in 2017.
The former prime minister and his brother were buoyed by easy access to Chinese financing for energy and infrastructure projects.
Such tensions would be enough to sink a different civilian government. But in this case, the former prime minister and his brother Shehbaz Sharif, who was serving as chief minister of Pakistan’s most populous province, Punjab, were buoyed by easy access to Chinese financing for energy and infrastructure projects. They directed these funds toward boosting road, digital, and economic connectivity with China; addressing Pakistan’s endemic power shortages; and strengthening their party’s fortunes ahead of elections slated for 2018.
For example, in 2016, Sharif pledged to end all scheduled blackouts within two years. The vast majority of initial CPEC funds went toward a building spree of power plants in order to fulfill that pledge. Shahbaz Sharif, in particular, was able to cut through red tape and get power plants completed in record time.
In urban areas, their strategy at first seemed to work. Power blackouts significantly declined. Economic growth ticked up, and public opinion polls in late 2017 pointed toward a sizable lead for Sharif’s party, the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N). But the gambit was fiscally unsustainable, relying on comparatively expensive electric power projects and putting off needed reforms of the power sector, including the dilapidated grid. As a result, the debt in Pakistan’s power sector has only continued to grow—reaching over $12 billion this year. Coupled with other potential white elephants, including a commuter rail line in Lahore, the Sharifs’ base, CPEC spending became enmeshed in Pakistan’s preexisting power disputes, including the civil-military rivalry.
And in the end, it didn’t work to keep the PML-N in power. Months before the election, ex-cricketer Imran Khan’s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) made up considerable ground. That late shift in the electorate toward PTI, combined with preelection defections of strong candidates to Khan’s party—induced by the Army, which could not countenance another term for the PML-N—gave Khan’s party a plurality of seats in the National Assembly, enabling it to form a coalition government.
The rise of PTI in 2018 meant the loss of a key partner for Beijing. The party was a relative unknown for China. It had never ruled at the national level, and what Beijing knew about it provided little comfort. In 2014, Khan had led an anti-government sit-in in the capital that resulted in the delay of Chinese leader Xi Jinping’s visit. And Beijing feared his anti-corruption crusade, a key element of his platform, could target CPEC.
The uncertain feelings were to some degree mutual. PTI inherited a coal- and infrastructure-heavy CPEC portfolio at odds with its own developmental priorities, which leaned toward renewable energy and social welfare. And with multiple economic crises looming thanks to the PML-N’s reckless economic policies, PTI had to make tough policy choices fast. Khan’s commerce advisor, Abdul Razak Dawood, told the Financial Times a month after coming into power that the government should take a year to reassess CPEC. His suggestion caused a storm, and the party was forced to backtrack.
Still, CPEC—and, with it, the Pakistani economy—did slow down. Pakistan dragged its feet on expensive, big-ticket projects like upgrading the country’s main railway line, the ML-1, which stretches from the port city of Karachi through the industrial cities of Punjab and on to Peshawar, near Afghanistan. By last year, the estimated cost of the project had ballooned to $9.2 billion, from the original $8.2 billion.
Now, two years into Khan’s tenure as prime minister, relations with China have improved, but both Beijing and the Army have lost faith in many of those who surround the prime minister. Meanwhile, some cabinet ministers, including the planning minister, the lead coordinator for CPEC on the Pakistani side, have been sacked, and the Army has won back a more pronounced role in governance, including with CPEC. This marks a reversal of the back-to-the-barracks policy initiated in 2007 by then-Army chief Ashfaq Parvez Kayani when he succeeded the embattled Musharraf.
Last November, a retired senior Army officer, Asim Bajwa, was even appointed by Khan as chairman of the CPEC Authority, a newly established body to oversee and facilitate corridor projects. Bajwa retired from the Army just two months before his appointment, and his last posting was as head of the Army’s Southern Command, which covers the province of Baluchistan, home to the Chinese-run port of Gwadar, a key node in the CPEC.
Bajwa was undoubtedly selected out of a belief that he could address security concerns in particular. Beijing is worried about terrorism in Baluchistan, where separatists have stepped up attacks on Chinese targets in recent years. Bajwa also served as lead military spokesman for three years and is credited as having taken the Army’s media management game into the digital era. The Army sees CPEC as being the target of a malicious foreign propaganda campaign (for example, several senior U.S. officials have publicly questioned the sustainability, transparency, and even the legitimacy of the program) and wants to fight back.
But there’s also indication that the Army has tried to use Bajwa and CPEC as Trojan horses to claim a greater share of power back from the civilian government. Last month, Pakistan’s Express Tribune reported on proposed legislation that would have radically enhanced the powers of the CPEC Authority, nearly converting it into a parallel government. The draft legislation would have cut Pakistan’s Planning Commission—which has served as the country’s chief economic policy development body since the 1950s—out of the picture on CPEC, giving the CPEC Authority sole power to conceive and develop the projects.
In other words, the CPEC Authority, effectively controlled by the Army, would exercise control over a large percentage of the country’s development budget—a power that is even more pronounced in a period of austerity. The CPEC Authority would report directly to the prime minister but would only be obliged to comply with their directives “to the extent that these are not inconsistent with the provisions” of the proposed law. The CPEC Authority could potentially even supersede the powers of the prime minister.
In a cabinet meeting this month, the most egregious elements were reportedly stripped out of the draft legislation, whose larger purpose is to formalize the CPEC Authority. Nonetheless, the brazen attempt at commandeering CPEC reflects the Army’s enduring dislike of civilian rule.
There’s a lot we don’t know about the ML-1 project. Pakistani officials have not adequately explained the fluctuations in the estimated project costs. Loan terms from China are said to be very generous to Pakistan, but they’ve yet to be finalized. Unconfirmed reports claim that the proposed grace period before repayments start may be extended from eight to 20 years, which—if true—would significantly ease Pakistan’s ability to repay the loan.
If and when completed, the ML-1 would increase the capacity and speed of Pakistan’s main railway line connecting its major cities and industrial hubs. There’s little doubt that the country needs to revamp its railways, which are underutilized for cargo and plagued by growing pension costs. But as is the case with most CPEC infrastructure projects, Islamabad has yet to clearly explain how the country will generate the amount of traffic that will enable it to repay loans owed to Beijing.
Although Chinese and Pakistani officials tout the economic importance of the ML-1, they’ve also referred to it as “strategic.” The line would mainly serve Pakistani commuters and companies, but—in combination with the existing Karakoram Highway or a future (and unlikely) railway line—it would also provide landlocked western China with better access to the sea. China could make commercial use of the railway, but the term “strategic” can be seen as signaling that it may also serve as a potential ground line of communication for China’s army. A similar point has been made about the Chinese-operated port of Gwadar, which sits just outside the Gulf of Oman near Iran, along Persian Gulf shipping lanes.
Proclamations of the ML-1’s strategic importance and accusations around the world of China’s “debt diplomacy” make Beijing’s opposition to Pakistani attempts to multilateralize the project even more concerning. In 2018, Voice of America reported that Pakistan had given up attempts to bring the Asian Development Bank on board in 2017 after Beijing’s opposition.
Such facts, combined with the growing role of the Army, add heft to the claims of CPEC’s foreign detractors that the project is more strategic than economic.
China is indeed an essential defense and strategic partner for Pakistan. It bolsters Pakistan’s ability to deter and balance an increasingly aggressive Hindu nationalist India, most notably through the JF-17 fighter jet, which is jointly manufactured with China and will serve as the backbone of the Pakistan Air Force, to some extent replacing the American F-16. Pakistan is also reportedly the only country that has been given military access to China’s BeiDou satellite navigation system, which will help wean Pakistan off of Western location-guided missiles and communication systems.
Beijing has also stepped up in critical ways in the past year to support Islamabad diplomatically and economically, demonstrating its reliability as an ally. It has modified its language on the India-Pakistan Kashmir dispute, recognizing its international nature and emphasizing United Nations and related Security Council resolutions instead of simply terming the conflict a bilateral one the two countries must solve together.
By comparison, Pakistan’s longtime ally Saudi Arabia has refused to convene a high-level session of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation on Kashmir. The Saudis’ unwillingness to do so, combined with Pakistan’s growing proximity to Turkey, has severely strained the Pakistan-Saudi Arabia relationship, so much that Riyadh asked Islamabad to repay a $1 billion loan early this year. Notably, Beijing provided Islamabad with equivalent funds “within hours,” according to the Financial Times, enabling it to repay Riyadh. Beijing also recently agreed to provide Islamabad with early access to a coronavirus vaccine for one-fifth of its population—which may hasten Pakistan’s economic recovery.
Still, it is in Pakistan’s interest to cleanly separate the economic and strategic dimensions of the relationship with China and desist from ambiguous messaging on potentially dual-purpose infrastructure. Blurring the lines between the two may have a deterrent effect on New Delhi, but it may also close off opportunities for trade and investment from other foreign sources wary of Beijing’s motives. Pakistan’s pursuit of greater connectivity with Xinjiang, where China is waging a brutal campaign against Uighur and other Turkic Muslims, is also risk. It increases Islamabad’s exposure to morally and legally hazardous entities that are now targets of U.S. sanctions.
Pakistan’s political elite unrealistically claim that the country’s strategic value to China will magically yield economic dividends and a cushy position in a strong regional bloc anchored by China. Just this month, in an interview with Dunya News, Khan himself said that “Pakistan’s future is with China. We should be clear on this. Our [economic] development has now been intertwined with China.”
That might be true, but not in the way Khan means. When it was launched, CPEC was purportedly intended to serve as a vehicle for integrating Pakistan into the world economy. But the PML-N used it as a vehicle to drive an unsustainable, consumption-driven burst of growth ahead of the elections. And today, the Army and other military services are keen on commandeering CPEC to address security concerns—or simply grab a piece of the economic and political pie, perhaps even through defense special economic zones.
Meanwhile, foreign direct investment remains limited to a few sectors, coming from entities—mainly Chinese—attracted by the growing local consumer market and overly generous concessions. Pakistani business elite, meanwhile, have remained unable to tap into global export markets in a real way. Exports make up only 10 percent of Pakistan’s gross domestic product, compared to 15 percent for Bangladesh and 19 percent for India. Sustained growth in exports and foreign direct investment are vital for Pakistan to exit its historic boom-bust economic cycles and avert an impending low-growth trap.
Khan’s government achieved some initial success in renegotiating power purchasing agreements, which may bring down the cost of electricity. Talks with CPEC electric power producers must begin. The country’s import tariff policy, currently focused on revenue-generation and protecting low-productivity local companies, should be reformed to promote value-added exports. And Pakistan needs to enact legal and regulatory reforms that protect investors, allow for transparent dispute resolution, and encourage investment from beyond China. Pakistan’s practice of bartering its strategic location for economic concessions has generally led to short-term gain and long-term pain. Institutional and policy reform are key to attracting diverse, sustainable inflows.
The Army’s growing role in CPEC and, more broadly, in Pakistan’s economic policymaking, will do little to push forward these necessary reforms, which require the buy-in of the country’s political and business elite and can only be born by consensus, not coercion. Should the Army command the heights of Pakistan’s economy, the country’s fragile democracy would erode, and its already sclerotic bureaucracy, unsure of who is truly in charge, could be paralyzed.
Although the Pakistan Army and other military services play critical roles in securing CPEC, their mission creep may severely distort economic policymaking with their commercial and strategic interests cannibalizing Pakistan’s budget and taking precedence over Khan’s stated focus on developing human capital in Pakistan and improving the welfare of its people. The average citizen invariably ends up as the loser in the country’s unending elite tug of war. The Army can help break that cycle by not getting in Khan’s way.


foreignpolicy--2020-08-26--Who Is Guo Wengui, the Chinese Emigre With Links to Steve Bannon?

Who Is Guo Wengui , the Chinese Emigre With Links to Steve Bannon ?
Welcome to Foreign Policy ’ s China Brief .
The highlights this week : What to make of the Chinese emigre linked to Steve Bannon , Beijing flexes its muscle in the South China Sea , and the Chinese Communist Party continues its security purge .
If you would like to receive China Brief in your inbox every Wednesday , please sign up here .
When the far-right agitator and former White House strategist Steve Bannon was arrested last week on fraud charges , he was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Chinese billionaire Guo Wengui , also known as Miles Kwok .
Guo , a powerful Bannon funder , is facing an FBI investigation into a company of his own—also linked to Bannon .
But Guo is also a high-profile target for the Chinese Communist Party ( CCP ) due to his status as a rich fugitive .
Another notorious conservative figure , the Republican fundraiser Elliott Broidy , is accused of illegally lobbying for China—including an attempt at the request of a high-ranking Chinese official to get Guo extradited for bribery charges .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ charges dropped against Malaysian fraudster Jho Low , currently protected by China . )
Guo is often labeled as an activist or a dissident , but he is neither .
He is a familiar type in emigre circles : the man who loses a power struggle at home and then flees abroad , where he tries to present himself as offering insider insight into his home country .
Guo ’ s departure from China in 2015 was not a matter of conscience ; he participated in high-level business and political affairs until he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to longtime security minister Ma Jian , and when Ma fell it prompted Guo ’ s permanent departure .
Guo promptly entangled himself in U.S. political affairs , where he has made claims about CCP corruption , became close with operatives such as Bannon , and faces an array of lawsuits , including charges of sexual harassment .
He says the lawsuits are cooked up by the CCP .
Why is Guo a CCP target ?
As a participant in contests among Beijing ’ s elite , Guo probably does know where some @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of his allegations can ’ t be verified .
And unlike most actual dissidents , he has money that he invests in areas usually dominated by the CCP , such as Chinese-language media .
Lastly , keeping the rich at home in line is a key part of CCP strategy .
The Hurun Rich List , which tracks wealth in Asia , is sometimes called the “ pig slaughter list ” in China , since its members are so frequently purged .
Dangerous figures .
Western policymakers should be wary of figures like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Baghdad multimillionaire who fled Iraq after becoming wrapped up in a Jordanian financial scandal .
Chalabi played a malignant role in the U.S. drive to the Iraq War , making a series of exaggerated claims that were taken seriously by political and military leaders .
As U.S. relations degenerate with China , the space for those like Guo to operate will grow .
Muscle-flexing in the South China Sea .
China launched two missiles in the South China Sea this week as part of a training exercise , including a “ ship-killer ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ United States observed the exercise closely , sending a U-2 spy plane into China ’ s no-fly zone and prompting complaints from Beijing .
China ’ s military assumes that the ability to destroy carriers can deter U.S. intervention in the South China Sea or in the event of a war with Taiwan .
That seems to stem in part from a long-held belief that military casualties would drive the United States away from a conflict .
The political consequences of China killing several thousand Americans are less talked about .
Security purge @ @ @ @ @ @ @ police , but it is carrying out a large purge for corruption , insufficient political loyalty , and laziness .
Mao-era language dominates the campaign , which portrays command of the security services as the CCP ’ s “ knife handle.
” Of particular concern for the party are links between organized crime and the police .
It ’ s worth noting Federico Varese ’ s study of attempts by the Hong Kong triad to break into China in the 1990s , which found that the offshore gangsters failed because the CCP already @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Today ’ s anti-gang campaign is more likely to consolidate organized crime by higher-level Chinese officials , as happened in Chongqing during Bo Xilai ’ s war on the city ’ s gangs .
Hong Kong police arrest victims of triad assault .
As part of the assault on civil society following the new national security law , Hong Kong police are now blaming the attack by triad thugs against protesters last year—when police stood by—on the protesters themselves .
Police arrested two democratic lawmakers who were attacked in the incident .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Hong Kong authorities are increasingly adopting the authoritarian tactics of demanding acquiescence with deliberately unbelievable lies as a loyalty test .
New U.S. sanctions .
The U.S. Department of Commerce has sanctioned 24 firms involved in China ’ s expansion in the South China Sea , extending measures previously directed at tech firms and those involved in Xinjiang .
The inclusion of the China Communications Construction Company , a major player in Belt and Road projects , is particularly significant .
With more Chinese firms added to the entity list weekly , U.S. @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tough risk assessments , especially about the odds that so far unsanctioned partners could be added to the list .
That furthers the agenda of the Trump administration—or at least U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo ’ s faction—effectively forcing decoupling on U.S. businesses .
Hit movie debuts in reopened cinemas .
The long-delayed film The 800 is the first blockbuster in post-coronavirus China , with 87 percent of cinemas reopened .
The movie depicts a well-known episode of heroism during the Japanese invasion of China , in which just over 400 men—described @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Japanese—defended Sihang Warehouse in Shanghai against waves of attackers as the Chinese army retreated .
But they were nationalists , not Communists , making The 800 politically tricky : It faced censorship delays and at one point looked as though it would never be released in theaters , but after 13 minutes of cuts it has proved to be a massive hit .
Unusually for a modern Chinese blockbuster , the film is by all accounts very good , mixing debate about war with spectacular action scenes .
Its success is also @ @ @ @ @ @ @ industry .
Flooding impact .
The devastating floods that hit southern China this year have now hindered production of key commodities in the region , including rare earths and fertilizer .
Jiangsu , an economically important coastal province that surrounds Shanghai , has suffered in particular , leading many factories to close .
Transport costs have also risen due to flooded roads .
“ Beaconism and the Trumpian Metamorphosis of Chinese Liberal Intellectuals , ” by Yao Lin As the blind Chinese dissident Chen Guangcheng , known for his heroic work as a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Republican National Convention tonight in support of U.S. President Donald Trump , read this article by the political scientist Yao Lin on why many liberal Chinese intellectuals end up on the far-right in the United States .
Yao argues that the legacy of eugenicism and nationalism in Chinese intellectual circles , mixed with a naive idealism about the United States , makes Chinese intellectuals surprisingly susceptible to Trumpism .
That ’ s it for this week .
We welcome your feedback at newsletters @ foreignpolicy.com .
You can find older editions of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Foreign Policy , subscribe here or sign up for our other newsletters .

Welcome to Foreign Policy’s China Brief. The highlights this week: What to make of the Chinese emigre linked to Steve Bannon, Beijing flexes its muscle in the South China Sea , and the Chinese Communist Party continues its security purge.
Welcome to Foreign Policy’s China Brief. The highlights this week: What to make of the Chinese emigre linked to Steve Bannon, Beijing flexes its muscle in the South China Sea, and the Chinese Communist Party continues its security purge.
If you would like to receive China Brief in your inbox every Wednesday, please sign up here.
What to Make of Guo Wengui
When the far-right agitator and former White House strategist Steve Bannon was arrested last week on fraud charges, he was sunning on the yacht of the renegade Chinese billionaire Guo Wengui, also known as Miles Kwok. Guo, a powerful Bannon funder, is facing an FBI investigation into a company of his own—also linked to Bannon.
But Guo is also a high-profile target for the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) due to his status as a rich fugitive. Another notorious conservative figure, the Republican fundraiser Elliott Broidy, is accused of illegally lobbying for China—including an attempt at the request of a high-ranking Chinese official to get Guo extradited for bribery charges. (Broidy also lobbied to get U.S. charges dropped against Malaysian fraudster Jho Low, currently protected by China.)
Guo is often labeled as an activist or a dissident, but he is neither. He is a familiar type in emigre circles: the man who loses a power struggle at home and then flees abroad, where he tries to present himself as offering insider insight into his home country.
Guo’s departure from China in 2015 was not a matter of conscience; he participated in high-level business and political affairs until he left. But he was closely tied to longtime security minister Ma Jian, and when Ma fell it prompted Guo’s permanent departure. Guo promptly entangled himself in U.S. political affairs, where he has made claims about CCP corruption, became close with operatives such as Bannon, and faces an array of lawsuits, including charges of sexual harassment. He says the lawsuits are cooked up by the CCP.
Why is Guo a CCP target? As a participant in contests among Beijing’s elite, Guo probably does know where some of the bodies are buried—even if most of his allegations can’t be verified. And unlike most actual dissidents, he has money that he invests in areas usually dominated by the CCP, such as Chinese-language media. Lastly, keeping the rich at home in line is a key part of CCP strategy. The Hurun Rich List, which tracks wealth in Asia, is sometimes called the “pig slaughter list” in China, since its members are so frequently purged.
Dangerous figures. Western policymakers should be wary of figures like Guo. Take Ahmed Chalabi, the Baghdad multimillionaire who fled Iraq after becoming wrapped up in a Jordanian financial scandal. Chalabi played a malignant role in the U.S. drive to the Iraq War, making a series of exaggerated claims that were taken seriously by political and military leaders. As U.S. relations degenerate with China, the space for those like Guo to operate will grow.
What We’re Following
Muscle-flexing in the South China Sea. China launched two missiles in the South China Sea this week as part of a training exercise, including a “ship-killer” designed to sink aircraft carriers. The United States observed the exercise closely, sending a U-2 spy plane into China’s no-fly zone and prompting complaints from Beijing.
China’s military assumes that the ability to destroy carriers can deter U.S. intervention in the South China Sea or in the event of a war with Taiwan. That seems to stem in part from a long-held belief that military casualties would drive the United States away from a conflict. The political consequences of China killing several thousand Americans are less talked about.
Security purge. China isn’t defunding the police, but it is carrying out a large purge for corruption, insufficient political loyalty, and laziness. Mao-era language dominates the campaign, which portrays command of the security services as the CCP’s “knife handle.” Of particular concern for the party are links between organized crime and the police.
It’s worth noting Federico Varese’s study of attempts by the Hong Kong triad to break into China in the 1990s, which found that the offshore gangsters failed because the CCP already performed all the functions of organized crime. Today’s anti-gang campaign is more likely to consolidate organized crime by higher-level Chinese officials, as happened in Chongqing during Bo Xilai’s war on the city’s gangs.
Hong Kong police arrest victims of triad assault. As part of the assault on civil society following the new national security law, Hong Kong police are now blaming the attack by triad thugs against protesters last year—when police stood by—on the protesters themselves. Police arrested two democratic lawmakers who were attacked in the incident.
The brazenness may be the point: Hong Kong authorities are increasingly adopting the authoritarian tactics of demanding acquiescence with deliberately unbelievable lies as a loyalty test.
Tech and Business
New U.S. sanctions. The U.S. Department of Commerce has sanctioned 24 firms involved in China’s expansion in the South China Sea, extending measures previously directed at tech firms and those involved in Xinjiang. The inclusion of the China Communications Construction Company, a major player in Belt and Road projects, is particularly significant.
With more Chinese firms added to the entity list weekly, U.S. businesses are going to have to make tough risk assessments, especially about the odds that so far unsanctioned partners could be added to the list. That furthers the agenda of the Trump administration—or at least U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo’s faction—effectively forcing decoupling on U.S. businesses.
Hit movie debuts in reopened cinemas. The long-delayed film The 800 is the first blockbuster in post-coronavirus China, with 87 percent of cinemas reopened. The movie depicts a well-known episode of heroism during the Japanese invasion of China, in which just over 400 men—described as 800 by their leader to deter the Japanese—defended Sihang Warehouse in Shanghai against waves of attackers as the Chinese army retreated.
But they were nationalists, not Communists, making The 800 politically tricky: It faced censorship delays and at one point looked as though it would never be released in theaters, but after 13 minutes of cuts it has proved to be a massive hit. Unusually for a modern Chinese blockbuster, the film is by all accounts very good, mixing debate about war with spectacular action scenes. Its success is also a positive sign for the post-pandemic movie industry.
Flooding impact. The devastating floods that hit southern China this year have now hindered production of key commodities in the region, including rare earths and fertilizer. Jiangsu, an economically important coastal province that surrounds Shanghai, has suffered in particular, leading many factories to close. Transport costs have also risen due to flooded roads.
What We’re Reading
“Beaconism and the Trumpian Metamorphosis of Chinese Liberal Intellectuals,” by Yao Lin
As the blind Chinese dissident Chen Guangcheng, known for his heroic work as a village lawyer, makes an appearance at the Republican National Convention tonight in support of U.S. President Donald Trump, read this article by the political scientist Yao Lin on why many liberal Chinese intellectuals end up on the far-right in the United States.
Yao argues that the legacy of eugenicism and nationalism in Chinese intellectual circles, mixed with a naive idealism about the United States, makes Chinese intellectuals surprisingly susceptible to Trumpism.
That’s it for this week.
We welcome your feedback at newsletters@foreignpolicy.com. You can find older editions of China Brief here. For more from Foreign Policy, subscribe here or sign up for our other newsletters.