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segunda-feira, 14 de julho de 2025

Criminalizar o racismo- análise de Teresa Pizarro Beleza

 


Catedrática de Direito Penal jubilada da Nova School of Law
Diário de Notícias, 19 Fev 2025

«A discriminação racial atinge diretamente o cerne do Estado de Direito, por comprometer a igualdade e a dignidade que devem ser salvaguardadas pela lei. Persistir em tratar estas matérias como simples infrações contraordenacionais é perpetuar a impunidade e desvalorizar os princípios constitucionais que formam a base da nossa ordem jurídica.»

Este é o centro da argumentação contida no texto da «iniciativa cidadã» que propõe a criminalização de actos racistas e xenófobos, entre outros de natureza e implicações discriminatórias de que aqui não trato.

O chamado Direito de mera ordenação social, que tipifica contraordenações, sancionadas com coimas ou outras medidas punitivas mas nunca com privação da liberdade, foi criado para deixar de fora do Direito Penal factos de gravidade menor ou pelo menos causadores de mais leve censura social do que os crimes. Permitia também o sancionamento de pessoas colectivas (sociedades comerciais, por exemplo) o que à data (1982) não era possível no Direito Penal propriamente dito. Muita coisa se foi alterando e as sanções hoje passíveis de serem aplicadas a pessoas colectivas podem atingir valores muito significativos, como recentemente foi notícia sobre alguns casos.

Em 1948, no rescaldo do horror dos crimes contra a Humanidade cometidos durante a chamada II Guerra Mundial, a Declaração Universal dos Direitos Humanos proclamou, na senda da Carta das Nações Unidas, os princípios básicos de dignidade e igualdade entre todos os seres humanos. A força vinculativa que fazia falta veio com os dois Pactos Internacionais sobre Direitos Civis e Políticos e sobre Direitos Económicos, Sociais e Culturais, em 1966.

Muito cedo a ONU percebeu que certas áreas mais problemáticas ou grupos populacionais particularmente vulneráveis precisavam de protecção acrescida, especializada. E assim começa a produção de Convenções que incidem sobre alvos precisos e pré-determinados.

A primeira dessas Convenções é justamente a ICERD, acrónimo de «Convenção Internacional para a Eliminação de Todas as Formas de Discriminação Racial», de 1965. Anterior, portanto, mesmo aos dois referidos «Pactos». Porquê? Porque os horrores do Nazismo, do Fascismo e do Colonialismo – que também com eles conviveu e se misturou - estavam a tornar-se demasiado conhecidos, senão mesmo óbvios, e condenados como protótipos de discriminação de raiz essencialmente étnico-racial para poderem ser esquecidos na legislação internacional. Por razões em alguma medida paralelas, a Convenção sobre o Genocídio (1951) e as chamadas Convenções de Genebra (1949) já se tinham antecipado no plano internacional. Assim como os julgamentos de Nuremberga e Tóquio – que não tiveram, na verdade, equivalente histórico em tribunais com jurisdição internacionalmente reconhecida sobre os crimes do Colonialismo.

Portugal atrasou-se no início da descolonização. O Estado Novo insistiu no «Para Angola e em força» e, entre 1961 e 1974, tentou manter o seu domínio anacrónico sobre as Colónias que insistia em chamar «Províncias Ultramarinas». O preço foi altíssimo em vidas humanas e atraso na libertação e autodeterminação dos povos colonizados, apesar das insistências e condenações da ONU, que Portugal se recusava a cumprir.

A Constituição da República de 1976 deu forma jurídica ao regime saído da Revolução que se inicia com o golpe militar de 25 de Abril de 1974. É clara a preocupação da Constituinte com o resguardo contra o «fascismo» e o «racismo». Recebendo como instrumento interpretativo privilegiado a DUDH, aceitando a recepção directa do Direito Internacional devidamente aprovado e ratificado, proíbe partidos políticos e organizações de carácter fascista ou racista.

O Direito Penal, dizemos nós, cultores desta área, e assim mesmo impõe a própria Constituição, só deve intervir em matérias em que seja necessário e provavelmente eficaz. Será o caso das manifestações de atitudes racistas ou xenófobas que se traduzam em palavras, em actos, em decisões ou exclusões discriminatórias?

A informação que resulta do inquérito do INE (ICOT, 2023) indicia uma alta percentagem de discriminação sofrida entre a população residente em Portugal. As notícias recorrentes de actos de violência de conotação racista contra negros, ciganos ou contra membros de outros grupos étnico-racialmente conotados como ‘diferentes’ ou ‘minoritários’ por contraposição aos chamados «brancos», a vulgaridade de insultos e a repetição de violência oficial – pelas forças de segurança, pela atitude de alguns juízes, etc – torna por demais evidente que a relevância da ausência de membros representantes dessas populações em posições de poder de decisão política, económica ou académica, precisa de ser levada mais a sério.

O Plano Nacional de Combate ao Racismo e à Discriminação 2021-2025, intitulado «Portugal contra o Racismo», elaborado na sequência das sugestões do Grupo de Trabalho que ao longo de meses contribuiu pro bono para a sua redação, reconhece o carácter estrutural e sistémico do racismo em Portugal, pela mão de membros do Governo de então, logo no início do documento. Mas das muitas medidas que o Plano propõe, pouco ou muito pouco terá sido cumprido e executado. O mesmo se poderá aliás dizer das Recomendações da ECRI, a agência que lida com a discriminação e a intolerância no âmbito do Conselho da Europa.

Criminalizar o Racismo para além dos limites estreitos do actualmente previsto no Código Penal, que cumpre de forma limitada o imposto pela ICERD, livremente assinada e ratificada pelo Estado português, é um passo que terá de ser dado para contrariar de forma mais eficaz, dissuadindo-a, a prática comum de agressões directas às pessoas em aspectos fundamentais da sua vida e dignidade.

Provavelmente encontrará muitas resistências. A ilusão sobre a inexistência ou a irrelevância do racismo em Portugal perdura, apesar de tanta demonstração em contrário. Em meu entender, o reconhecimento da gravidade extrema dos actos racistas, que se traduz na sua criminalização efectiva, é também uma pequena mas relevante contribuição para a «indemnização moral» aos povos colonizados e escravizados pelo Império português. E uma forma tardia mas ainda válida de reconhecimento da contribuição essencial dos Movimentos de libertação das Colónias para o fim da Ditadura do «Estado Novo». É mais um passo na descolonização que Portugal tardou em iniciar e que continua incompleta, apesar de tanta declaração e convicção em contrário.

domingo, 29 de junho de 2025

Europe’s Security Gamble: NATO’s New Budget Push


Across Europe, budgets are tightening, classrooms are overcrowded, hospitals are understaffed, and climate targets are slipping out of reach. Yet, in the midst of this so-called austerity, NATO countries are preparing to commit to something extraordinary: raising military spending to 5% of GDP. At a time when governments claim there’s “no money” for essential services, this massive shift demands scrutiny. Who benefits from this build-up? What are we sacrificing to fund it? And most importantly, is this really what security looks like in the 21st century?

Can NATO’s military build-up coexist with Europe’s climate and peace goals?
The world seems to be becoming a less safe place. According to the 2024 Global Peace Index, the world is now witnessing the highest number of armed conflicts since World War II. Regardless of the origins of the conflicts or the actors involved, the outcomes are often very similar: significant civilian casualties, large-scale displacement, and systematic violations of human rights and international humanitarian law. Just in the past year, 160,000 people died in conflict, with Ukraine accounting for 83,000 deaths and Palestine for at least 33,000 as of April 2024.

Faced with this grim reality, governments are ramping up military budgets. In 2024, global military spending surged to a record-breaking $2.7 trillion, the sharpest increase since the end of the Cold War and the tenth consecutive year of rising expenditures. European countries, particularly NATO members, are following this trend. Over the past decade, defence spending by EU NATO member states rose by 45%, from €145 billion in 2014 to an estimated €326 billion in 2024. That is about 1.9% of EU GDP, edging closer to NATO’s current 2% target, and equivalent to the entire annual GDP of several EU member states such as Finland, Portugal, or the Czech Republic.

But here’s the rub: this rapid increase is happening even as public finances are under increasing pressure. Overall, government spending in NATO EU countries grew by just 20% in real terms over the past decade, while defence budgets jumped by more than double that. Spending on health grew 34%, education just 12%, and environmental protection 10%. This highlights a growing imbalance of EU priorities.

A big chunk of this money is going straight into arms and military equipment. In 2024, EU NATO spent €90bn on military hardware, a staggering 50% increase over 2023, accounting for nearly 90% of all defence investments. But does buying more arms make us safer? That depends on what we’re buying, why, who benefits, and what kind of “security” we want. At the same time, the freshly reformed EU fiscal rules have been suspended to allow an increase in military spending, without any changes to the need to generally reduce budgets, meaning austerity still applies.

At NATO’s upcoming summit in The Hague on 24 June, there is momentum to raise the alliance’s defence spending target from 2% to an alarming 5% of GDP. This article does not aim to argue whether military defence is needed. But it encourages us to ask, how much is too much? Who’s profiting? And what does this mean for Europe’s democratic and social fabric? Because a jump to 5% won’t just tweak budgets – it will transform priorities for decades to come. This is not a technical or isolated defence issue. As budgets are redirected toward weapons and away from healthcare, education, housing, nature protection, and green transitions, we must ask: What kind of Europe are we building? If civil society does not pose the right questions, this decision risks being made behind closed doors, without a clear democratic mandate or transparent debate.

What kind of security are we talking about?
Europe needs to be able to defend itself, but one key piece is missing: a serious, independent assessment of what Europe needs to do so. Peace researchers Herbert Wulf and Christopher Steinmetz, in a report commissioned by Greenpeace, found that even without the U.S., NATO Europe far surpasses Russia in nearly all key military parameters. The idea that we are dramatically underprepared is not supported by the data. So, why the rush to build up? What threats are driving this? Are we confronting non-military threats like cyber-attacks, disinformation, or economic coercion with the same urgency as discussions around “air and missile defence” or “long-range weapons, logistics, and large land manoeuvre formations” as suggested by NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte?

Framing defence needs as a percentage of GDP doesn’t help; it’s arbitrary. The proposed 5% defence target is not based on a transparent, evidence-based assessment of actual security needs. Using a percentage of GDP doesn’t reflect either the actual capabilities or military efficiency, nor differences in country size or economic performance, and non-military security needs (e.g., climate, energy, cyber resilience). It’s also proposed without public debate on the consequences for health, education, climate, or social spending.

In short, basing policy on a percentage of GDP distracts from the real work of defining what “security” means and how to achieve it holistically.

Who is benefiting from the increase in military spending?
Follow the money, and another pattern emerges: Europe isn’t just spending more – it’s spending outward. Nearly 80% of European defence procurement is imported, mostly from the United States. So, are our investments really strengthening European security and resilience, or simply boosting American military firms? And what happens when those suppliers are tied to fossil fuel lobbies, political instability, or unpredictable presidents? Let’s not forget: the U.S. military industry played a key role in Trump’s last campaign and could again. By feeding this system, are we fuelling the very instability we claim to resist?

Meanwhile, public money flows steadily into the hands of military shareholders. Where do we draw the line? What becomes of budgets meant for healthcare, education, childcare, housing, nature protection and the climate? If we see direct transfers from public pockets to company shareholders as part of the industrial-military complex, would the wealthiest rentiers not again reap profits at the expense of taxpayers? When arms companies and investment funds profit from conflict, how do we safeguard democratic oversight? Should we revisit, if not reverse, the privatisation of military industries to preempt a situation where profits depend on global unrest?

This is more than just a budget issue. It’s a structural shift that could weaken democracy, deepen inequality, and make conflict more profitable than peace.

How beneficial is militarisation for economic performance and jobs?
Not in the way some claim. Military spending may look like an economic stimulus, but evidence shows otherwise. Military expenditure often has a smaller multiplier effect compared to green and social investments. It creates fewer jobs per euro spent than health, education, or green investment. That’s because defence projects are capital-intensive, dominated by a handful of companies, and often happen outside the EU.

Compare that to investments in energy efficiency, renewables, public transport, care work, or nature restoration, which generate more employment, faster returns, and healthier communities. At a time of fiscal constraint, prioritising defence risks crowding out essential public services, deepening social inequalities, and weakening economic resilience.

And what about the climate and the environment?
Militarisation comes with a hefty environmental price tag, long before war ever breaks out. Military forces are among the world’s biggest energy users. Building and maintaining military forces consume large amounts of fossil fuels, critical minerals, and water, which places a strain on ecosystems and contributes to global emissions. Control over such materials has become a strategic priority, influencing geopolitical decisions in regions like Ukraine and the DRC. Day-to-day military readiness requires constant training, and training means consuming resources and energy, notably oil, with low levels of energy efficiency.

The global military carbon footprint is estimated at 5.5% of all greenhouse gas emissions, yet it’s mostly invisible in climate accounting frameworks. That means countries can meet climate targets on paper while quietly ramping up emissions through their armies.

There’s also the question of land. Militaries also occupy vast land and sea areas, up to 6% of the planet’s surface, including ecologically sensitive zones. Some areas may be shielded by restricted access, but many suffer heavy degradation from training, testing, and infrastructure. Pollution, habitat loss, and contamination are all common issues, with little to no public accountability.

This raises a fundamental issue: what if military “readiness” is undermining planetary stability, the very foundation of long-term peace?
A turning point

We are living through uncertain, volatile times. The threats are real, but so are the choices.

We can choose to define security broadly, not just as the absence of war but as the presence of care, fairness, resilience, and sustainability. We can build safety from the ground up — with strong communities, thriving nature, and just economies.

Or we can double down on outdated models of defence, lock in spending that benefits the few, and lose sight of the Europe we claim to defend. Civil society must not shy away from this debate.

Because in the end, security isn’t just about protecting borders; it’s about protecting what matters most.

quarta-feira, 25 de junho de 2025

The Pentagon Is Using a Fabricated Chinese Threat to Build Genetically Engineered Soldiers


On April 8, a bipartisan commission chartered by Congress warned that China is rapidly advancing a terrifying new military threat: genetically engineered “super soldiers.”

The report by the National Security Commission on Emerging Biotechnology (NSCEB) urges the U.S. to respond with a sweeping effort to militarize biotechnology. It offers little concrete evidence that such Chinese programs even exist.

In the name of national security, Washington is now pushing for deregulation, massive government investment, and human experimentation. Experts say this effort echoes Cold War-era paranoia and threatens to erode ethical boundaries in science and warfare.

A Congressional Research Service fact sheet on the report claims its contents “describe how biotechnology could potentially revolutionize agricultural production in the U.S., transform U.S. health care, and change the future of computing power.” While that may sound promising, the report’s focus is overwhelmingly on using biotechnology for military purposes, including the creation of “genetically enhanced soldiers.” The report also states that “biotechnology’s impact on surveillance could be … transformative.”

The report argues that biology could revolutionize warfare just as airpower did in the 20th century, promising new advantages in stealth, logistics, and real-time physiological monitoring of soldiers. It calls for “a fundamental rethinking” of how the U.S. uses biotech in combat.

Biotechnology also promises new advantages in stealth and mobility. Dynamic biological camouflage, for instance, could shield warfighters from thermal detection, while wearable biosensors could adjust mission parameters based on real-time physiological data. Taken together, these advances demand a fundamental rethinking of how biology supports sustained, agile military operations, revolutionizing what it means to defend the U.S., including building for, nourishing, and healing forces in the field.”

The report argues that “winning” the global biotech race will “require de-risking the domestic production of defense-related biotechnology products” and changing “military specifications” to enable biotechnology companies to sell their products to the Pentagon more easily. Repeated references are also made to the need to “reduce or remove regulatory hurdles for familiar products.” Although the report never defines “familiar products,” the term may refer to controversial and experimental technologies such as CRISPR gene editing and mRNA therapeutics.

NSCEB also calls for large-scale “biological databases” to be treated as a “strategic resource.” It urges Congress to direct the Pentagon to build commercial facilities across the country to biomanufacture products deemed “critical for DOD needs.” The U.S. government “will need to shoulder some of the risk of early-stage financing for biotechnology and encourage private investment,” such as “[streamlining] regulatory processes to alleviate unnecessary burdens and accelerate the commercialization.”

The report’s tone is urgent, and lawmakers appear eager to act. One day after the report’s publication, NSCEB Chair Todd Young and Commissioners Alex Padilla, Stephanie Bice and Ro Khanna jointly introduced the National Biotechnology Initiative Act in both the House and Senate to “set in motion a whole-of-government approach to advancing biotechnology for U.S. national security, economic productivity, and competitiveness.”

Commissioners are urging “swift action” on militarizing biotech, “to protect U.S. national security.” In an accompanying press release, Vice Chair Michelle Rozo implored lawmakers to take action on the NSCEB report, stating, “Technology is not inherently good or bad, but who uses it matters.”

Independent researcher Jeff Kaye agrees with her statement. The U.S., which recently conducted extensive airstrikes in Yemen and continues to support Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, is, according to Kaye, a dangerous actor.

Independent journalist Peter Byrne tells MintPress News that the report reflects “the rationally untethered paranoid politics driving the ongoing weaponization and monetization of AI” in the U.S.

Byrne says that NSCEB’s speculative and scientifically questionable report “focuses on using so-called artificial intelligence to enhance the biologically violent capacities of government-backed and corporate-supported military forces—so-called “warfighters” who are increasingly being cyberized and treated, alongside targeted civilian masses, as expendable biologically augmented actors within what the report describes as an ‘Internet of Military Things.’

A Biotech Arms Race Built on Fear
The NSCEB’s composition raises additional concerns. The presence of both Democrats and Republicans on the Commission allows it to present itself as a bipartisan body. However, this obscures the fact that most commissioners aren’t neutral experts, but have deep ties to the Pentagon and U.S. intelligence community.

For example, Michelle Rozo serves as vice president of technology at In-Q-Tel, the CIA’s venture capital firm. The firm has invested heavily in biotechnology, almost since its inception.

According to her official NSCEB biography, Commissioner Dawn Meyerriecks “led the iconic CIA Directorate of Science and Technology…defining and delivering global capabilities beyond state-of-the-art.”

She also served on the NSA’s corporate board for over a decade. In that role, she helped the agency transition to the cloud and “[revamped] their approach to encryption.”

It is unclear if she crossed paths in that role with fellow board member Eric Schmidt, founder of Google, whose early development was supported by funding from intelligence agencies, including the CIA and NSA.

Google was a primary beneficiary of the post-9/11 U.S. national security state. A September 2021 report found that 77% of all government contracts awarded to the firm were related to the War on Terror.

This included developing the Maven program, which used AI to improve drone targeting, and counter-terrorism tools that disproportionately targeted Muslims on social media. Income from this program was key to supporting Google’s rise to global dominance.

Another notable member of the Commission is Dov Zakheim. A Pentagon journeyman who, during the Reagan administration, strived to ensure Israel was equipped with U.S.-made weapons and fighter jets at bargain rates, he was also a key member of the Project for the New American Century. In September 2000, the neoconservative think tank published “Rebuilding America’s Defenses.” The report promoted “the belief that America should seek to preserve and extend its position of global leadership by maintaining the preeminence of U.S. military forces.”

The document controversially suggested that ethnic bioweapons could “transform biological warfare from the realm of terror to a politically useful tool.” Zakheim was among its authors, along with fellow PNAC members Jeb Bush, Dick Cheney, Richard Perle, Donald Rumsfeld and Paul Wolfowitz. They later served as key advisers to President George W. Bush during the War on Terror.

“The marriage of biotechnology and U.S. national defense – war – policy harkens back to the U.S. crash program to create a usable germ warfare arsenal during the Korean War,” Jeff Kaye tells MintPress News. “Now the U.S. government wants to whip up a false fear about ‘genetically enhanced PLA super-soldiers’ in order to fund their own unprecedented attempt to create such soldiers themselves.” In the end, Kaye says, such programs primarily benefit military and technology contractors and raise serious ethical and strategic concerns.

The Myth of China’s Super Soldiers
In December 2020, then-U.S. Director of National Intelligence John Ratcliffe directly accused the Chinese government of “[conducting] human testing on members of the People’s Liberation Army in the hope of developing soldiers with biologically enhanced capabilities.” Despite providing no evidence, and the question of whether this is even scientifically possible being an obvious and open one, his comments triggered widespread media coverage, often uncritical, that persists to this day. Multiple outlets have published speculative accounts of Chinese advancements in gene-edited or technologically enhanced “super soldiers.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the NSCEB report repeatedly justifies the urgent need for U.S. investment in biotechnology with claims that Beijing is close to outpacing Washington in every aspect of the field. “China’s recent success across core biotechnology capabilities, including AI-driven drug discovery platforms and biomanufacturing, signals that they may soon eclipse us,” the report ominously cautions, “and if that happens, the U.S. may permanently lose its competitive edge. But the biggest threat, naturally, lies in the military sphere.

Nonetheless, the Commission appears uncertain on whether China has already made concrete moves in the direction of biotech weaponization, intends to, or is merely exploring the concept. For example, one passage states “our adversaries could [emphasis added] engineer ‘super soldiers’ with genetically enhanced physical capabilities.” Another speculates, “paired with new technologies like implanted brain-computer interfaces that tap directly into a soldier’s brain chemistry…‘super soldiers’ could [emphasis added] attack our military – before our leaders can even act.”

Elsewhere, though, the Commission firmly declares it has “every reason to believe that the CCP [sic] will weaponize biotechnology,” including the creation of “biotechnology-powered troops,” citing a highly questionable October 2024 State Department report drawn up by arch anti-China hawks as proof. The report speculates that traditional technologies like drone warfare could pale in comparison to “genetically enhanced PLA super-soldiers with fused human and artificial intelligence.”

While super soldiers may sound like science fiction today, in reality the CCP [sic] has long called for ‘population improvement’, and has backed research into topics like the genetic basis of intelligence.”

The conclusion is highly debatable and lacks substantiating evidence.

In March 2003 a then-senior member of the National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC), a purely advisory body without any legislative power, called for “better protection of the health of baby girls,” and “the need of start [sic] a project to cure deformed baby girls or girls born with slight defects.” Then, the Commission points to a 2022 report from Berlin’s Max Planck Society for the Advancement of Science.

The report notes that while China is a pioneer in the emerging field of Germline Genome Editing, its experiments have exclusively focused on eradicating genetic diseases and hereditary disabilities. These experiments involve changes to DNA in egg, sperm or embryo cells—a still-controversial area of research.

Moreover, the report stresses that other countries – including Britain and the U.S. – have undertaken comparable experiments, and Beijing adheres to a rigorous regulatory framework in all its GGE testing.

The Society notes that in November 2018, a Chinese scientist and two collaborators independently created genetically edited babies without government approval or oversight. As a result, they were jailed for “illegal medical practices” and violating national regulations on biomedical research and medical ethics. The report contains no indication that this research is intended for military use, begging the question of how the Commission concluded from its findings that “super soldiers” are an intended result of China’s GGE experiments.

Human Enhancement and Military Obedience
Although the NSCEB report includes a recommendation for ethical oversight, a leading recommendation in the NSCEB report is for the Pentagon “to consult with stakeholders to define principles for ethical use of biotechnology for the U.S. military.” However, the accompanying text runs to just over 250 words and offers no explanation or definition of ethics in this context, let alone examples or concrete proposals for countering them. It simply states the investment must reflect the U.S. military’s “commitment to American values,” without defining what those values are or how they should be measured in practice.

Nonetheless, the Pentagon is encouraged to consider “Biotechnologies for warfighter performance optimization.” These include performance-enhancing technologies, policies for informed consent, and discussion of potentially heritable genetic treatments.

This raises only a fraction of the broader ethical questions surrounding the militarization of biotechnology.

As Peter Byrne tells MintPress, “the professional China-demonizing ‘authorities’ are calling for diverting the USA’s increasingly diminishing funds for projects aimed at benefiting society at large, for weaponizing disease and genetics with the sole goal of killing millions of people for profit by the very few. There is no ‘ethical’ stance to take in undertaking a fundamentally murderous and technologically stupid project, which is bound to backfire, except to recoil from it as a hot iron.”

The report does urge the Pentagon to ensure soldiers give informed consent to any genetic enhancements. The “reversibility” of ‘enhancements’ to which they are subjected suggests that the NSCEB’s program will – at least publicly – adhere to basic medical standards. Yet, a deeply disturbing May 2021 Britain’s Ministry of Defence report on “human augmentation” raises grave concerns about “consent” in military contexts:

Consent in the military is necessarily different to consent in wider society due to the unique relationship between subordinates and their superiors. It could be difficult for military personnel to give sufficiently voluntary and informed consent due to a tendency to follow orders over individual interest. Would a Service person who refused to be augmented be guilty of disobeying a lawful command?”

The report stressed that “establishing advantage” in human augmentation was urgent. It claimed the role of people in war was “being challenged in three key areas: data, complexity and speed.” Human augmentation, it added, was “the missing part of this puzzle.”

It went on to advocate wearable technologies, psychedelic drugs, gene editing, exoskeletons, sensory augmentation devices, and invasive implants such as “brain interfaces” be considered for administration to soldiers by the British military post-haste. “Adversaries” supposedly outpacing London in the field was a core justification.

That the British M.O.D. published almost identical findings to NSCEB four years ago amply demonstrates how Western governments and military thinkers have been obsessed with weaponizing the human body and mind for some time. Their public pronouncements and formally published, open-source plans offer far more concrete, chilling indications of developments in this field than have ever emerged from China. For example, NATO’s ‘Innovation Hub’ during 2020/21 published a number of bizarre papers and convened several conferences on the subject of “cognitive warfare.”

The Hub’s purpose was to explore “militarisation of brain science” and answers to the burning question of how to overcome perceived biological limits to human performance.

Most of the associated paper trail has suspiciously been removed from the web. However, documents it published outlined numerous ways in which the “human domain” could be added to established spheres of conflict, such as “air, land, sea, space and cyber.”

It resolved for NATO to aim for “cognitive warfare” dominance globally by 2040.

In a surreal twist, the Hub consulted several “futurists” to sketch fictional scenarios, whereby this objective could be achieved. One paper outlined a fictional scenario in which, by 2039, autopsies conducted on Chinese soldiers killed in skirmishes with U.S. and Australian troops over a Silk Road initiative in Zambia would find the corpses were “supra-human,” or genetically augmented beyond typical human capacity, the product of gene-editing in a lab that would give them enhanced muscle capacity, night vision, and “resistance to sleep deprivation, thirst, extreme heat and humidity.”

The incident, the author forecast, would trigger a “cognitive war” under NATO’s Article 5. It was not long after this highly speculative and implausible fiction was published that Ratcliffe made his claims about China developing “super soldiers,” suggesting that Ratcliffe’s remarks may have drawn inspiration from speculative NATO material.

If NSCEB’s report is fully adopted, many of the Innovation Hub’s most alarming proposals could edge closer to reality.

Aaron Good, founder of American Exception, argues the implications of the report are dire and reflect deeper dysfunction in U.S. governance.

This enterprise is so sinister and horrifying, it is not something that should be considered in an advanced civilization. But since we live under a lawless and exploitative oligarchic regime whose only real imperatives are to perpetuate itself and to aggrandize the wealth and power of its oligarch owners, this is what we get.”

“We must hope some constellation of internationalist powers can transcend the regime of the West,” Good says, concluding that the U.S.-led global order is unlikely to yield power without resistance.

As during the Cold War—when exaggerated claims of Soviet nuclear superiority and Chinese brainwashing triggered decades of arms races and human experimentation—U.S. policymakers are again invoking the specter of enemy-state superpowers to justify ethically murky and potentially illegal programs. Echoes of past atrocities like MKULTRA are unmistakable, raising the question of whether some biotech enhancement experiments may already be underway in secret.

quinta-feira, 23 de março de 2023

Enrico Berlinguer & the NIEO in the Global North


“Comrade Berlinguer do not forget that we even get our aspirin from the USSR”. It was with these words that, in October 1981, a long discussion between Fidel Castro and the Secretary of the Italian Communist Party (PCI) came to an end.

Enrico Berlinguer had traveled to Cuba for a trip that would take him to various places throughout Latin America, from López Portillo’s Mexico to Sandinista Nicaragua. In Cuba, Berlinguer debated Castro on a range of topics both theoretical and practical in nature, from the relationship between socialism and democracy to the role of the USSR in the international communist movement. But the New International Economic Order constituted a privileged meeting-point: as President of the Non-Aligned Movement, Castro was curious to hear the perspective of the Secretary of the PCI, a party that had placed North-South relations at the core of its international strategy. Their conversation, and the broader commitment of the PCI to the project of the NIEO, fills a gap in the dominant historical account of this period by pointing to the role of Northern countries — Western Europe’s left parties in particular — as allies and strategic actors in the rise and demise of the NIEO.

The original purpose of Berlinguer’s trip was to promote the Charter for Peace and Development1, a document drafted by Italian Communists with the aim of defining a program for global development. In the footprints of the 1980 Brandt Report2, the Charter was inspired by a new idea of equal cooperation between global North and South. The “new internationalism” of the largest Western Communist Party seemed an important partner for the policies of the Non-Aligned, particularly given the upcoming North-South Summit, which was to be held a few days later in Cancun. Fidel Castro, who had been excluded from the meeting by the Reagan administration, was interested in the Italian perspectives on the NIEO.

“That argument we had with Castro” — this is how Antonio Rubbi, then-head of the PCI Foreign Relations and a member of the delegation that accompanied Berlinguer on his trip to Latin America, described the encounter in a recent interview, before quickly retracting the phrase, and hastening to recall the exceptional affinity felt by Italian Communists for the Cuban leader3. Charged, among others, with drafting the final joint communiqué of the meeting, Rubbi described the subjects of the discussion that took place between Castro and the PCI: the democratic path to socialism, democratic pluralism, and the USSR. Castro’s comment on the subject was incisive in unraveling the different perspectives between a small, embargoed island threatened by neighbouring US, on the one side, and 1970s Italy, on the other: “we are a small country, besieged by the US; here multipartyism was a very bad experience, before the revolution”.

Often blurred and shrouded in the myth of an extraordinary harmony between two differently charismatic personalities, “one imposing and fiery in the olive-green uniform, the other slender and shy”, the anecdotal aestheticization of the protagonists’ recollections fails to completely hide the unsolved crux of the discussions, made between swimming and fishing trips4. The underlying misunderstanding between the two would never be resolved, but the episode remains of interest for us today, for its insight into the debates on the NIEO, and how different ambitions and perspectives were projected onto it.

While a single episode can’t solely represent the reasons behind the fate of the NIEO, assessing these moments of missed opportunities and alliances in the networks built around the NIEO in the 1970s can perhaps help us reflect on important questions about the future before us, and help us in looking at the new balances of a conflict that, albeit in different ways and forms, undoubtedly still runs through the world today. What did the NIEO mean for a “Northern” country like Italy? How many and what different strategies did it conceal under the image of a universal egalitarian banner for the Global South and the Western left?

Recent historiographical interest in the NIEO has provided various insights into the question: “What, exactly, was the New International Economic Order?”. Opening the Special Issue of Humanity in spring 2015 with this question, Nils Gilman describes the NIEO as “like an apparition, an improbable political creature”, appearing “as the figment of a now all but lost political imaginary, sprang forth during a narrow and specific window of geopolitical opportunity”. A “moment of disjunction and openness, when wildly divergent political possibilities suddenly appeared plausible”, something “dramatically alternative”5, radically other than what would soon emerge as “the real new international economic order”6— that is, the neoliberal order. But, as many interpretations have suggested, the NIEO was multiple things at the same time: a project of “worldmaking”, an initiative to reform transnational governance or to radically change international law, the completing/the high point of the process of decolonization and its economic cultures,7 a global Keynesianism or even a global socialism, “the most serious challenge to US global leadership since the end of the Second World War”, and, in the end, a possible alternative globalization8.

This ambitious project of redefining global relations was a ground on which, on the part of both the “South” and the “North”, different visions and hopes were projected, not immediately coinciding, sometimes even opposing each other. In the latter half of the 1970s, the NIEO represented an alternative project of international economic relations – but also of state-market relations – that was a critical part of the competition between different models of global integration. Through this prism, it is possible to look at individual national debates in terms of how they moved within this competition. To shed light on this double level — between an “institutional” level and the broader internal political confrontation — allows us to gain a better understanding of the intertwining of different ambitions and expectations that lay behind this global issue.

The Italian debate on the NIEO was shaped by domestic needs and issues, exemplifying how the challenges of the new global economic interdependencies constituted a ground for competition among different political cultures. The political discussion on the NIEO emerged in the wake of the far-reaching cultural impact provoked by the vast cycle of conflict which began in 1968-1969. In Italy, it developed during a period of great social change that worked as a new driving force for the Italian elites to rethink their responses to the outcomes of modernization processes and deal with domestic social demands for democratization. A first element thus emerges in considering this period as a crucial transition in bringing about a critical rethinking within the major political cultures in response to the overall crisis of legitimacy of the Italian institutional and party system.

Although in different ways – and with different inclinations and purposes – the main Italian parties identified new international strategies as the preferred terrain of this effort. They framed new global issues as part of a broader interpretation of the crisis, linking global and domestic egalitarian claims. This trend was backed by two main influences or traditions: both the reflection on post-colonial experiences fostered by the Communist leadership – inherently related to its “internationalist” identity – as well as the emerging of an ethical-humanitarian interest in the Global South among Catholics following the Second Vatican Council. As early as November 1967, Communist member Renato Sandri had already brought attention to the “presence of great forces that referred to internationalism and ecumenism” to encourage the start of a new Italian focus on the post-colonial world, that should have been based on the values of universalism and global solidarity shared by all major Italian political cultures9. Behind this was the intertwining and competition between two universalist visions, each of which had given rise to its own internationalist networks, especially the Communist one that had always supported the decolonization processes. At the turn of the decade, the Christian Democrats and the Communist leadership began to work out new agendas to bring about – as they said – “the pressing need of new times”10. According to the Christian Democrats Aldo Moro and Luigi Granelli – who would lead the Italian Foreign Ministry almost continuously from 1969 to 1974 – the “moral awakening of the new generations” gave rise to the overcoming of anachronistic divisions, moving towards a “new and different international order”.

This effort resulted first and foremost in Italy’s growing commitment to the European project. Author Giuliano Garavini showed how the EC’s new relationship with developing countries and support for the New International Economic Order were part of a broader discussion among European elites on the consequences of the oil crisis and the reconsideration of the Community’s new role in a global context11. The vision of the Italian Foreign Ministry (expressed in these years by the Christian Democrats’ left wing) reflected those European approaches aimed at maximizing the potential of the EC’s enlargement to achieve a “qualitative leap”12 that could meet the expectations of both European public opinion and those of the developing world. Within this framework, it was the issue of political and economic relations with the Global South – as well as several specific debates on the NIEO – that represented a crucial first experience of political dialogue, as demonstrated by the birth of the Institute for relations between Italy and the countries of Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East in 1972, on the initiative of the Christian Democrats’ left wing, the Socialists and the Communists.

The economic challenges facing Italy, driven in part by the oil crisis, had the effect of sharpening the debate on the relationship between Southern development and Western standards of living. Thus, for example, in February 1974, Ugo La Malfa, the Republican Party Minister of the Treasury, committed to passing his austerity policy by highlighting how “the transfer of resources from developed to oil-producing countries, as a result of the change in the terms of trade” would necessarily lead to “a restriction of domestic consumption in the industrialized countries”. To such statements, Communist Senator Napoleone Colajanni replied that his party rejected “precisely this conception of Third World development as necessarily linked to a halt and a compression of the standard of living of the working masses of the industrialized countries”, considering it “not necessary in absolute terms” but rather “intrinsically linked to the workings of the capitalist system”13.

To Aldo Moro, the transition “from the rhetorical to the political phase” of relations with the developing world needed a “slowing of growth” necessary to “allow the progress of others”14. At the same time, the PCI’s international policy stimulated an in-depth analysis linking North-South relations with the rethinking of Western societies’ economic structures. These theories, processed in tune with the political lines of the European social democracies within the framework of “Eurocommunism”, demanded a new conception of development, based on the global redistribution in terms of a “qualitative” rather than exclusively quantitative growth15. Indeed, the fundamental premise of Berlinguer’s well-known “austerity policy” was the re-elaboration of the Western model of production and consumption, in close connection with the development of the Global South16. This proposal was highly compatible with that of the promoters of the NIEO and the categories of its fundamental theoretical framework – the ambitious vision of global redistribution and the centrality of the notion of sovereignty. Between 1973 and 1976, the Communists would develop, in parallel, the idea of “introducing elements of socialism17 into Italian society and the need to move towards a “new international division of labor” within an overall analysis that looked at the current economic crisis as a systemic crisis of capitalism, affecting the entire structure of global value chains. This would have required the “theoretical and practical initiative of the working-class vanguard and democratic forces of Western Europe” which would have had to match the thrust of the developing countries in a common struggle. As Renato Sandri pointed out in June 1974, the need for such an initiative would require a new vision of interdependence, “so that the approaching crossroads would not result in a further polarization of imperialist domination but in an international division in which interdependence would no longer be that fable of the wolf and the lamb”18.


As political confrontation expanded, ironically the potential Italian role on the international scene was further reduced. Italian economic crisis and social conflict became a source of special attention within the multilateral Euro-Atlantic framework, constraining Italian policy, especially in the monetary field, which would later take the form of financial aid packages placed under political conditions. Italy would become the object of close monitoring as part of a change of pace in the instruments of U.S. foreign policy, defined by some authors as a shift from the “rigid containment” to a phase of “concerted stabilization19. This trend was also solicited by certain domestic concerns: “What is at stake”, La Malfa complained in February, “is the issue of who is running the country, the unions or the government”20. The position taken by the Italian government at the UN Sixth Special Session was within this framework, as was the one taken at the vote on the Charter of Economic Rights and Duties of States21 in late 1974, in which Italy eventually abstained along with some of the leading European countries, after long and arduous negotiations with the United States. As U.S. ambassador John Anthony Volpe concluded about the vote on the Charter, Italy was “perfectly willing to take the heat from LDCs [Least Developed Countries] on this issue, but not at the cost of being isolated within European Community”22.

As the European Community set out to negotiate the Lomé Convention23, different international fora were being arranged outside the equal and global framework of the United Nations. The launch of exclusive meetings between Western technocratic elite would become increasingly influential in the years that followed, affecting the fates of both the NIEO project and the difficult Italian political balance24. Some authors have effectively shown the close link and parallel proceeding between stabilization projects, towards the containment of both Western leftists and the demands of the Global South, also pointing out how parties such as the PCI ended up being tied down by their own internal legitimation strategies and — willingly or unwillingly — going along with these outcomes25.

The debate between political visions coexisted with a profound divide within the institutional system, leading to an era in which international policies swung between innovative impulses and stark re-stabilization. The NIEO debate was part of such a competition and clash between different visions and formulas for exiting the crisis, demonstrating how domestic designs were also based on and legitimized by reference to external models of global integration. Such a twofold trend characterized the ways in which Italian political elites faced the major global transformations that occurred at the turn of the 1970s, showing the multilevel relationship Italy established with such processes. On the one hand, Italy was particularly exposed to the new global economic interdependences, suffering first the immediate economic implications, then consequent political constraints; on the other hand, international issues, including the NIEO, became a ground on which different efforts to shift the domestic political balance were exercised.

While the NIEO may appear today retrospectively as an announced failure, these histories serve as reminder that the NIEO seemed to be surprisingly credible in its most successful moment26, a hope or a threat to the global order, arousing even disproportionate irritation in its contemporary critics, if not even the redefinition of their own international strategies27. As Quinn Slobodian pointed out, “understanding the irritation means recognizing that the NIEO was not acting alone” but it found influential allies in the North, from “global reformists”, economists and social democrats to European leftists28. In this regard, it seems useful today to ask whether, in addition to a new South-South cooperation, it is possible to rethink a North-South cooperation, starting precisely from those missed opportunities or alliances past left unresolved.

Historians often rush to warn against hurried comparisons, analogies, or parallels between ages and times. However, the importance, not just nominal but political, of the recent revival of an idea of South-South cooperation, whose call for alternative models of solidarity-based and non-hierarchical global integration is explicit, should not escape us. Recognizing the political relevance of such a reference is not to fail to see the differences between one period and another, or the contradictions that lie beneath the homogenizing banner of “Global South” — the “Global South” after all has never been homogenous, it was not in the 1970s and it is not today. But the viewpoint of the researcher and historian, accurate to specificities and differences, can (and must) sometimes give way to the no less necessary political outlook.

And it is thus precisely in a political perspective that we should start again from where the meetings, connections and networks built around the NIEO in the 1970s had failed. Silvio Pons has effectively explained how Berlinguer's trip to Latin America had been a disappointment for the PCI, particularly with respect to the party's ambitions to relaunch its traditional vocation as transnational mediator and its role as a “bridge between different worlds”, within a project of “interaction and interpenetration between European reformist communism and anti-imperialist traditions outside Europe”. According to Pons, after Tito's death, the Non-Aligned Movement under the Cuban presidency had represented a “radicalisation that denied the reformist assumptions of a rebalance between North and South and reflected the growing fragmentation of political subjects in the global South”. The PCI therefore intended to act as a key interlocutor partner to restore convergence of networks and relations around the NIEO project29.

From this point of view, two different political strategies clashed in the meeting between Castro and Berlinguer, both very much informed by the respective position that Cuba and the PCI thought they should hold within the international communist movement at the time, and the resulting new tactics as sources of identity and legitimacy. In turn, these assessments were profoundly related to the context in which they developed and acted as political actors, and thus to the specific positioning of the two countries in the balances of the global economy. Corresponding to these two strategies were two different visions and interpretations of the NIEO as a political project, beneath which lay distinct ideas of the relationship between anti-imperialist struggle, democracy and development.

As we saw above, Berlinguer's “austerity” political project was also based on the assumption of a convergence and shared interests between the popular classes of the West and the collective struggle of the developing countries. But that vision failed, just as the meeting between Castro and Berlinguer revealed the limitations of an authentic political understanding.

The defeat of the NIEO and the emerging of the neo-liberal model represented both the revival of class struggle from above and the return of hierarchical conceptions of global integration. We all lost from this. At the same time, however, the winners in this story were not only in the North. Today, globalization processes have in many ways redefined the core-periphery balances and structures of the world30. The terrain of struggle remains one not exclusively of “the West and the rest” but also between global rich and poor. It is a matter of understanding on what to base this convergence and working on the deconstruction and demystification of false differences and identities. Above all, it is about being able to find a way to imagine — and, possibly, achieve — a world in which real differences and identities are integrated into a collective and cooperative vision, instead of being declined into domination hierarchies or conflicting strategies. But this first requires asking whether the structural and systemic conditions for this convergence exist today. Are they better than they were in the 1970s? What are the interests that Western leftists want to represent? Are they compatible and convergent with a new collective struggle of the Global South? These are the real challenges of this fundamentally emancipatory, progressive, and timely struggle, and which can perhaps provide some elements to reconstruct a dialogue between different points of view left unresolved in the meeting between Castro and Berlinguer.


Martina Marchesi is a PhD candidate at the Scuola Normale Superiore.


References
01 “Il contributo del PCI per una Carta della pace e dello sviluppo”, l’Unità, 8 novembre 1981, p. 8. See also “La più ampia iniziativa contro il riarmo per la pace e lo sviluppo. Il dibattito sulla relazione di Ledda”, l’Unità, 7 ottobre 1981, pp. 1, 8-9.Fonte↗
02 North-South: A Program for Survival, The Indipendent Commission on International Development Issues, MIT Press, Cambridge, 1980.Fonte↗
03 Author's interview with Antonio Rubbi, Rome, 8 October 2022.
04 For several accounts and recollections of the episode see R. Borroni, Renato Sandri. Un italiano comunista, Tre lune, 2010; A. Rubbi, Il mondo di Berlinguer, Napoleone, 1994. See also S. Pons, I comunisti italiani e gli altri. Visioni e legami internazionali nel mondo del Novecento, Einaudi, Torino, 2021, pp. 269-280.
05 N. Gilman, The New International Economic Order: A Reintroduction, “Humanity”, 6, no. 1, 2015, pp. 1-16, p. 1.
06 M. Mazower, Governing the World: The History of an Idea. 1815 to the Present, Penguin Group, London, 2013.
07 G. Garavini, The Rise and Fall of OPEC in the Twentieth Century, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2019; G. Garavini, Completing Decolonization: The 1973 ‘Oil Shock’ and the Struggle for Economic Rights, “The International History Review”, v. 33, no. 3, September 2011, pp. 473-487; C. R. W. Dietrich, Oil Revolution. Anticolonial Elites, Sovereign Rights, and the Economic Culture of Decolonization, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2017.
08 See the Special Issue “Toward a History of the New International Economic Order”, Humanity: An International Journal of Human Rights, Humanitarianism, and Development”, 6, no.1 (2015); M. Mazower, Governing the World, cit.; A. Getachew, Worldmaking after Empire. The Rise and Fall of Self-determination, Princeton University Press, Princeton-Oxford, 2019.
09 Camera dei deputati, IV Legislatura, Discussioni, 15 November, 1967, p. 40576.Fonte↗
10 ACS, AAM, Scritti e discorsi 1947-1978, anno 1968, 465, Discorso tenuto al Consiglio nazionale Dc (20 Novembre 1968-1 Dicembre 1968). Resource available online on ASS, Fondi federati.Fonte↗
11 G. Garavini, After Empires: European Integration, Decolonization, and the Challenge from the Global South, 1957-1986, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2012.
12 ACS, AAM, Scritti e discorsi 1947-1978, anno 1972, 559, Preparazione del vertice a Lussemburgo, intervento (26 maggio 1972). ASS, Fondi federati.Fonte↗
13 Comunicazioni del ministro del tesoro On. La Malfa alla Commissione bilancio del Senato, (21 febbraio, Res. Somm.), Ministero Affari Esteri, Servizio storico e documentazione (MAE-SSD), Testi e documenti della politica estera italiana, Roma, 1974, p. 45.
14 ACS, AAM, Scritti e discorsi 1947-1978, anno 1974, 621, Intervento alla Commissione esteri della Camera dei deputati (25 febbraio 1974-28 febbraio 1974). ASS, Fondi federati.Fonte↗
15 E. Berlinguer, La politica internazionale dei comunisti italiani, Rapporto al XIV Congresso del PCI, 18 marzo 1975, Editori Riuniti, Roma, 1976; see also, G. Garavini, After Empires, pp. 219-220.
16 E. Berlinguer, La proposta comunista. Relazione al Comitato centrale e alla Commissione centrale di controllo del Partito comunista italiano in preparazione del XIV Congresso, Einaudi, Torino, 1975; E. Berlinguer, Austerità: occasione per trasformare l’Italia. Le conclusioni al convegno degli intellettuali (Roma, 15-1-1977) e alla assemblea degli operai comunisti (Milano, 30-1-77), Editori Riuniti, Roma, 1977; R. Sandri, La sfida del Terzo Mondo. L’Europa comunitaria e i paesi ex coloniali tra protezionismo, liberalizzazione «selvaggia» e cooperazione, Editori Riuniti, Roma, 1978.
17 A. Tatò, Caro Berlinguer. Note e appunti riservati, Einaudi, Torino, 2003, p. 50.
18 R. Sandri, Tutte le materie prime e non solo il petrolio, “Rinascita”, no. 25, 31, June 21, 1974, p. 14.
19 L. Cominelli, L’Italia sotto tutela. Stati Uniti, Europa e crisi italiana degli anni Settanta, Le Monnier, Milano, 2014.
20 Feb 11, 1974. Telegram from AmEmbassy Rome to SecState: Treasury Minister La Malfa requests US assistance for Italian labor situation, NARA, RG 59, CFPF, El. Tel. 1974.Fonte↗
21 Charter of Economic Rights and Duties of States, UNGA, Res. 3281 (XXIX), UN doc., A/RES/29/3281 (12 December 1974) Free access on UN Digital Library.Fonte↗
22 Oct 31, 1974. Telegram from AmEmbassy Rome to SecState: Charter of Economic Rights and Duties of States, NARA, RG 59, CFPF, El. Tel. 1974.Fonte↗
23 For a detailed account of the negotiations that led to the Lomé Convention see G. Garavini, After Empires, pp. 183-200.
24 See Ivi, pp. 203-215; E. Mourlon-Druol, F. Romero (eds), International Summitry and Global Governance. The Rise of the G7 and the European Council, 1974-1991, Routledge, London-New York, 2014.
25 D. Basosi, G. Bernardini, The Puerto Rico Summit of 1976 and the End of Eurocommunism, in L. Nuti (a cura di), The Crisis of Détente in Europe. From Helsinki to Gorbachev, 1975-1985, Routledge, London, 2009, pp. 257-267.
26 V. McFarland, The International Economic Order, Interdependence and Globalization, “Humanity”, 6, no. 1, 2015, pp. 217-233, p. 217.
27 M. Franczak, Global Inequality and American Foreign Policy in the 1970s, Cornell University Press, Ithaca and London, 2022.
28 Q. Slobodian, Globalists. The End of Empire and the Birth of Neoliberalism, Harvard University Press, Cambridge-London, 2018, p. 221.
29 See S. Pons, I comunisti italiani e gli altri, pp. 271-273.
30 B. Milanovic, Global inequality. A New Approach for the Age of Globalization, Belknap, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 2016.

quinta-feira, 22 de dezembro de 2022

The Russian Empire Must Die

A better future requires Putin’s defeat—and the end to imperial aspirations.


During the quarter century of its formal existence, the Moscow School of Civic Education did not have a campus, a syllabus, or professors. The school instead ran seminars for politicians and journalists, led by other politicians and journalists, from Russia and around the world. It operated out of the Moscow apartment of its founders, Lena Nemirovskaya and Yuri Senokosov. They had met in the 1970s while working on a Soviet philosophy journal, and shared a hatred of the violent, arbitrary politics that had shaped most of their lives. Nemirovskaya’s father was a Gulag prisoner. Senokosov once told me he could not eat Russian black bread, because the taste reminded him of the poverty and tragedy of his Soviet childhood.

Both also believed that Russia could change. Maybe not change very much, maybe not very dramatically, but change nevertheless. Nemirovskaya once told me that her great ambition was just to make Russia “a little bit more civilized” through the exposure of people to new ideas. Their school, an extension of conversations held in their kitchen, was designed to achieve that single, nonrevolutionary goal.

For a long time it flourished. From 1992 to 2021, Nemirovskaya reckons, more than 30,000 people—parliamentarians, city-council members, businesspeople, journalists—attended their seminars around the country on law, elections, and media. British editors, Polish ministers, and American governors came to speak; they got financial support from an equally wide range of European, American, and Russian foundations and philanthropists. I attended perhaps a dozen seminars, mostly to speak about journalism.

But the school remained a Russian organization, built by Russians, for Russians. The topics were chosen because they interested Russians and later because they interested the Georgians, Belarusians, and Ukrainians who attended some seminars too. I remember a particularly boring (to me) seminar on federalism in Scandinavia that the participants found fascinating because they hadn’t ever pondered, in their highly centralized societies, the various relationships between regional and national governments that could theoretically exist.

At the time, this project did not feel naive, idealistic, or radical, let alone seditious. Even during the first decade of Vladimir Putin’s presidency, democratic politics were restricted but legal in Russia; opposition views were tolerated, as long as they didn’t attract too much popular support; and there were many endeavors to organize discussions, training sessions, and lectures on democracy and the rule of law. Nemirovskaya told me that it never occurred to her that she was creating a “dissident” organization. On the contrary, her efforts were meant to support exactly the kind of transformation that people in power in Russia in the ’90s said they wanted. But slowly, those people were pushed out, or changed their mind. Officers of the FSB, the Russian secret police, began showing up at the seminars and asking questions. Negative articles about the school appeared in the Russian press. Finally, the state designated the school as a “foreign agent” and decreed that it had to advertise itself as such.

In 2021, the school was closed. Nemirovskaya and Senokosov sold their apartment and moved to Riga, Latvia, where they still run seminars, only now for exiles. Many of their friends, colleagues, and former students trickled out of the country too. In the spring of 2022, following the invasion of Ukraine, that trickle became a wave. Tens of thousands of Russian journalists, activists, lawyers, and artists left the country, bringing with them whatever remained of independent media, publishing, culture, and the arts. Among them were many people who might have once attended a seminar on local government at the Moscow School of Civic Education.

That moment felt, to many inside and outside Russia, like the end of the story. But it wasn’t—because stories like this one never end.

Ideas move across time and space, sometimes in unexpected ways. The notion that a country should be different—differently ruled, differently organized—can come from old books, from foreign travel, or just from its citizens’ imaginations. At the height of the Russian empire, in the 19th century, under the rule of some of the most ponderous autocrats of their time, a plethora of reform movements flowered: social democrats, peasant reformers, advocates of constitutions and parliaments. Even some of the people born into the Russian imperial elite came to think differently from others in their social class. Leo Tolstoy evolved into a world-famous advocate of pacifism. The father of the writer Vladimir Nabokov made fiery public speeches in the years leading up to the Russian Revolution, edited a liberal newspaper, and spent time in prison. His son later remembered how, on the evenings when his father was holding his political meetings, “the hall would house an accumulation of greatcoats and overshoes,” and guests would talk well into the night.

The state pushed back against people who thought differently, even then. Mikhail Zygar, a Russian author and the founding editor of an independent television station called TV Rain, has written a book, The Empire Must Die, that, among other things, tells the story of the independent thinkers forced out of Russia at the beginning of the 20th century, some of whom came back to reshape it during the revolution. This was a moment when “the number of Russian political émigrés becomes so great that there is talk of the emergence of an alternative Russian civil society,” he writes. “The Russian diaspora is no longer a branch of Russia; it is no longer clear which is the branch and which the trunk.”

Most suffered from one major blind spot: Neither then nor later did most Russian liberals understand that the imperial project itself was the source of Russian autocracy. The White Russian armies lost to the Bolsheviks in part because they would not join forces in 1918–20 with newly independent Poland or would-be independent Ukraine. Democratic ideas did not triumph in either the branch or the trunk in the years that followed the Russian Revolution, partly because the state needed to use so much violence to keep Ukraine, Georgia, and the other republics inside the Soviet Union.

sexta-feira, 2 de dezembro de 2022

The big problems you won’t hear about at the EU-US Trade and Technology Council


Two years after the Biden administration and the European Commission resolved to put an end to the rancorous trade disputes of the Trump era, Washington and Brussels are again wrangling, this time over US electric vehicles subsidies and European Union (EU) initiatives to rein in US big tech companies.

The December 5 gathering in the Washington area of US cabinet officials and European commissioners—the third semi-annual meeting of the Trade and Technology Council (TTC)—should be a perfect opportunity for high-level grappling with these disputes. However, neither is on the agenda, causing European Commissioner for the Internal Market Thierry Breton to decide the trip wasn’t worth his time. The reasons for that illustrate the limits of this new kind of transatlantic trade diplomacy.

The EU originally proposed the TTC, and it has been designed as the antidote to the lengthy, failed negotiations between the United States and Europe on a comprehensive trade agreement, the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP). The TTIP crashed at the end of the Obama administration, a victim of over-ambitious scope and deep-seated opposition in major EU member states to some of its planned measures to open up European markets to US competitors.

The TTC, by contrast, aims more modestly to “coordinate approaches to key global technology, economic, and trade issues; and to deepen transatlantic trade and economic relations, basing policies on shared democratic values,” according to its inaugural joint statement. The shelved quest for a grand transatlantic trade bargain would be replaced by political alignment on global economic challenges such as China and Russia, and by shared, concrete technology projects.

The December 5 meeting should deliver on some of this promise. Washington and Brussels are expected to announce coordinated transatlantic funding for digital infrastructure projects in the developing world, common definitions and methodologies for assessing artificial intelligence risks, a early-warning system for gaps in the global semiconductor supply chain, and efforts toward joint standards for charging electric vehicles, among other achievements.

But these “deliverables” pale in comparison to some of the bigger challenges that the TTC could be tackling. Both the United States and the EU are confronted by China’s robust state mercantilism and its efforts to shape global technology standards, for example, but these concerns figure only indirectly in the upcoming meeting. Washington and Brussels do discuss China in other international fora, of course. Yet without a shared appreciation of China’s economic threats, practical work on it in the TTC remains very limited.

Major trade irritants related to climate technologies are also missing from the TTC’s agenda, notwithstanding the group’s original announced objective to “fight the climate crisis [and] protect the environment.” Notably, European trade ministers have pronounced themselves “very concerned” by new US incentives for consumers purchasing electric vehicles containing locally sourced battery elements. These measures are contained in the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), the recently enacted centerpiece of US climate strategy. The EU fears that the subsidies, which likely violate US obligations in World Trade Organization agreements, could incentivize European car manufacturers and producers of climate-mitigating technologies to relocate their production facilities to the United States.

The public response of the US Trade Representative (USTR) has been not to engage on the trade law questions, but rather to stress that the IRA represents “meaningful action to combat the climate crisis by investing in clean energy technologies and addressing supply chain vulnerabilities.” At the same time, the USTR and the European Commission have set up a high-level task force, chaired by officials from the US National Security Council and the office of European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, to address the EU’s IRA concerns. The group operates independently of the TTC structure, however, and in any case no result from its discussions is expected by the December 5 meeting.

The uproar in Europe over US electric vehicle subsidies has drowned out US concerns regarding whether the EU’s Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism—a proposed tax on importing into Europe products manufactured in countries not meeting the bloc’s strict emissions standards—conforms with international trade law. A joint EU-US technical working group has been charged with “developing a common methodology for assessing the embedded emissions of traded steel and aluminum,” but it too has been organized outside the TTC structure.

The other glaring absence from the TTC’s work-plan is collaboration on the regulatory challenges of information technology. Over the past three years, the von der Leyen-led European Commission has racked up an impressive set of legislative achievements in this area, adopting measures aimed at platform companies’ competitive advantages and at their role in spreading information damaging to democracy. Next on the EU horizon is passage of a comprehensive Artificial Intelligence Act and a law structuring the commercialization and international transfer of industrial data. Alarm bells also have gone off in Washington recently about a proposal from the EU’s network security regulator to impose foreign ownership limits and data localization requirements on cloud service companies. These cybersecurity certification requirements could exclude non-compliant foreign companies from the booming market in selling cloud services to EU governments.

The Biden administration periodically has registered its concerns in Brussels about these EU measures through the usual diplomatic channels. But the EU has rebuffed US entreaties to utilize the TTC structure to examine them, instead pushing ahead with its legislative agenda. The TTC also was not utilized as a negotiating venue for the new EU-US Data Privacy Framework, an accord intended to solve a decade-long dispute over US national security agencies’ access to personal data located in the EU.

Compartmentalizing the big issues in transatlantic trade and technology policy in this fashion has led to a palpable sense of frustration and disappointment in Washington that the TTC is not fulfilling its admirable goals. Diminished expectations were perhaps inevitable: There never was any realistic prospect that Washington or Brussels would slow their respective legislative agendas to accommodate a technocratic coordination process. Nor is the TTC’s elaborate format necessarily the panacea for resolving thorny policy problems.

Nonetheless, the TTC’s patent exclusion of the issues of greatest import in transatlantic economic affairs from its deliberations does not inspire confidence that it will prove to be a lasting institution. Despite their ritual invocations of unity and renewal, Washington and Brussels increasingly are returning to business as usual in their ever-prickly trade relations. Rebuilding a relationship of trust in transatlantic relations remains a work in progress.