Strife Staff

by Joseph Jarnecki

On 17 October 2019, the Intelligence and Security Committee (ISC) handed their report on Russian interference into British democracy to Prime Minister Boris Johnson. A bipartisan committee, the ISC is mandated by the British Parliament to oversee the British intelligence services – replacing open debates with formal parliamentary procedures.

Following significant delays to its release, the report saw light of day only nine months later. As a result, questions regarding the ISC’s ability to fulfil its brief have begun to be asked more loudly. This has only been exacerbated by the failed installation of Chris Grayling MP to Committee Chairmanship. With members of the ISC being nominated and not elected, and with recent events exposing the limits of the committee’s independence, how effective are current procedures of democratic oversight on holding intelligence services and their ministers to account? And is a nominated committee truly more efficient than open parliamentary discussions?

The 1984 controversy surrounding union membership for Government Communication Head Quarters (GCHQ) employees generated the first substantial debates on intelligence services and democratic oversight in Parliament. To illustrate this point, that year there were over three hundred mentions of GCHQ in Parliament; in all its previous history there had been just fourteen. The rest of the decade continued this trend with increased attention for the intelligence services by parliamentarians. Here, debates frequently turned to questions of the politicisation of security as well as principles of parliamentary and collective democracy.

Of those debates, the 1985 Interception of Communications Bill is notable for opposing parliamentary sovereignty and royal prerogative – that is, those powers held under sovereign authority but exercised by the executive. The legislation, as asserted in the chamber by former Labour MP Tony Benn, expanded the executive’s ability to deploy surveillance such that it undermined ‘parliamentary democracy.’ He argued that those executive justifications for wiretapping on the grounds of ‘national security’ stripped parliament of its central purpose of discussing and deciding national interests, especially its capacity to determine British security interests.  Benn’s assertion, that ‘security in Britain is controlled by the Prime Minister,’ seems to therefore echo the thought of later academic work regarding the instrumentalization of security which, despite recent controversies over increasing surveillance through the use of prerogative powers in line with Coronavirus measures, receives little mention in contemporary Parliaments.

Two years later, the 1987 House of Commons (Services) debate, regarding the Speaker of the House’s decision to suspend Ronan Bennett’s parliamentary pass also centralises themes of security versus parliamentary democracy. Employed as a researcher for then backbencher Jeremy Corbyn, Bennett had been previously linked to the Irish Republican Army (IRA) and had been convicted for the murder of a police officer – though this was overturned a year later. The decision to rescind his access was justified by advice received from the security services that Bennett was a ‘security risk,’ an accusation that quickly found its way into the media.

The foremost issue that MPs took with this incident, other than asserting that it subverted their right to hire as they please, was that the Speaker had not questioned the reasoning for this advice and that the recommendation was not a matter of public record. As such, neither the accused, his employer, the House services committee, nor the issuer of the ban knew the justification for the advice to exclude Bennett. This led backbench MPs to articulate a broader critique of undefined ‘security risks’ as instruments used to claim authority and to construct boundaries to debate, all whilst avoiding transparency. Tony Benn in this debate raised such limits on open debate in order to critique what he saw as executive overreach, saying that ‘Members of Parliament are in danger of being licensed only to discuss what Ministers want them to discuss.’ Whilst Benn’s words again stand out for what Conservative MP John Biffen called his ‘characteristic zeal,’ upon looking at the debate in full its apparent that references to themes of democratic oversight and its tensions with security were habitual touchstones for this cohort of parliamentarians.

These two accounts highlight that amongst initial debates on the intelligence services, the problematisation of security and liberty, as well as contestations over principles of parliamentary sovereignty, were apparent. This stands in contrast to the belief that these themes are unique to our current moment or else only emerged following 9/11, the so-called “migrant crisis”, or the Snowden revelations. Indeed, these subjects which were evident in the 1980s persisted in parliament into the early 1990s, accumulating momentum such that the government was pressured to establish the ISC. With the creation of the committee, however, direct debates on the intelligence services have become limited to the yearly presentation of the ISC’s report or else to issues with a high public profile. Accompanying this drop in frequency has been a shift away from discussing the politicisation of security and principles of democracy. In their place, there has been a movement towards reflexively supporting intelligence activities and an increasing emphasis on vesting authority in procedures and professionalised bodies.

Whilst this shift has been gradual since 1994 a key case that illustrates a change is the 2013 debate regarding the operations of GCHQ. Held in the wake of revelations by whistle-blower Edward Snowden that the US National Security Agency (NSA) was operating illegal mass surveillance, the debate saw then Foreign Secretary William Hague address questions regarding active GCHQ-NSA cooperation and whether comparative GCHQ initiatives existed. Hague opened the debate by outlining what he saw as the three main issues raised by the controversy, these therefore can inform our reflections on how government positioning has adapted to the existence of the ISC.

First, in describing ‘the action that the Government are taking in response to recent events’ the Foreign Secretary solely refers to the ISC. Saying that they have ‘already received some information from GCHQ and will receive a full report tomorrow,’ and adding that they ‘will be free to decide what, if any further action’ to take. His response here, barely longer than the included extracts is telling for two reasons. Centrally, Hague seems to equate action by the government with action by the committee, or else he seeks to derive legitimacy from the committee’s presumed authority as a parliamentary body exerting oversight. Secondly, by sidestepping a commitment to substantive action by deferring to potential ISC scrutiny the foreign minister is pushing the discussion far into the future. Any ‘further action’ the committee could take would necessitate a long report process with the possibility of executive delay in publication.

The second issue raised by Hague, regards how intelligence services work ‘in accordance with UK law’ and democracy. His justification here being that agencies operate under 1994 and 2000 legislation and are therefore legitimate in their actions. Regardless of the flawed assumption that law is necessarily good, which tellingly was not challenged by other debate participants, his point is undermined by his own government’s 2013 Justice and Security Act, which imposed greater restrictions, later that year.

Lastly, the Secretary’s third issue relates to how the law is upheld in international intelligence cooperation, which he acknowledges is regular between the NSA and GCHQ. He quickly outlines again that legislation alongside oversight by ministers and the ISC ensures adherence to the law, however in contrast to speakers in the 1980s, who might have interrogated the underlying rationalities for these agencies, Hague instead advocates for them through the prism of threat. In doing so he invokes physical and economic security, without a single mention of the preservation of life or democracy. As such, he displays an instrumentalisation of the authority the ISC is supposedly vested with as a scrutinising body, alongside an unreflexive prioritisation of the actions of the intelligence services.

Besides Hague’s statements what is also telling about this debate is what is excluded from the responses and questions to him. Of the forty-one MPs who spoke not one mentioned the word “democracy” nor “rights,” and of the three mentions of “liberty” two came as part of an exchange citing the paradox of Snowden’s invocation of the ideal from within the People’s Republic of China.

The final mention of ‘liberties’ came from former Conservative MP Rory Stewart wherein he urged Hague to focus not on the ‘legal problem’ of secret operations but instead on their repercussions for ‘balancing security and liberty.’ In what constitutes the only Benn-like elevation of the debate, Stewart went on to emphasise that the continuation of these operations relies on an informed public, who ‘through understanding, consent.’ Hague’s response to this assertion was to offer agreement that the public should be engaged, though he hedged this commitment with a call-back to the greater importance of secrecy as a guarantor of our security and the cooperation of our intelligence partners.

What is shown through these three debates is that there is no linear development of accountability for the intelligence services. Whilst the ISC provides a mechanism through which a select number of parliamentarians can access information the state has made secret; it has guaranteed neither substantive change in the powers afforded to Parliament nor multifaceted and nuanced debate. Moreover, the committee’s procedures provide ample excuses for governments to deflect or delay, as we have observed with the Russia report, and its annual sessions in parliament often do not receive great consideration. Whilst the executive retains the power of appointment and the ISC’s ability to launch formal investigations is limited, its capacity to achieve significant accountability is narrow.

The original full-length article can be found at the King’s Research Centre in International Relations (RCIR) Forum. The piece was written as part of the King’s Undergraduate Research fellowship held in the context of the GUARDINT project, which is supported by the Economic and Social Research Council.

Joseph Jarnecki is a MA International Conflict Studies student at King’s College London and the Coordinating Editor for Strife blog. His research interests include the politics of knowledge production, the proceduralisation of democratic accountability, as well as violence and (in)security. He completed his BA in International Relations at King’s. You can follow him @Jarnecki.

by Matthew Ader

Scholars and policymakers around the world are turning to history to understand how to navigate the onrushing collision between the ailing United States of America and an increasingly assertive China. The most famous example, expounded upon at length in Graham Allison’s Destined for War, is the clash between Sparta and Athens as documented by Thucydides. However, the most recent hegemonic transition, that of Britain to the United States, deserves significant attention – it is well-sourced, exhaustively documented, and involves national actors still relevant today. That makes it a valuable case study.

However, little work has yet been done to model this period in a way, which would allow the clean transfer of lessons learnt to the modern context. Even Kori Schake’s Safe Passage, written explicitly with the intent of informing Sino-American competition, is an excellent history before it is a work of political science. The relative paucity of overarching models means that policymakers must either fall back on heuristics or delve into intricate historical details.

This article attempts to split the difference by deriving a broader model of hegemonic transition from the circumstances of the Anglo-American case, with the hope that it will ease comparative work between the historical and contemporary situations.

I argue that the transition can be broken down into five distinct phases:

1. Potential for competition (1756 – 1823) – the United States begins to grow in capability, but Britain is not yet aware of the potential threat.
2. Recognition (1823) – Britain recognises the United States as a potential threat.
3. The window of opportunity (1823 – 1914) – Britain conducts policy to (in most cases) conciliate the United States as the two nations move towards parity.
4. Moment of transition (1916) – the United States surpasses Britain, as a result of British losses and American industrial growth during the First World War.
5. Settling into a new order (1917 onwards) – the United States becomes the new global rule-setter, and Britain adjusts its position accordingly.

The United States’ growth in power began before the American Revolution, with the Seven Years War and American independence, but a combination of internal weakness and British distraction with eastern conquests and ambitious Corsicans – not to mention America’s poor performance in the War of 1812 – meant that it took until the 1820s for senior British officials to directly recognise the future potential of the United States as a major disruptive influence. Notably, and seemingly uniquely in terms of hegemonic transitions, this was recognised long before the United States even began to approach military parity with Britain. This may be due to traditional British lack of confidence in its own power, and also the naval character of said power – as Lord Palmerston observed in 1858, the simple reality of American geography rendered it invulnerable to British domination even in the absence of a major US force.

Given that Britain recognised the potential for competition relatively early, they had a large window of opportunity to apply policy. Instead of launching a preventive war, which would have been ineffective given the fact that Britain could not achieve lasting dominance over the United States, they pursued a consistent policy of conciliation. During the Oregon boundary dispute (1846), the Trent Affair (1861), and the Venezuelan Debt Crisis (1895), among other crises, Britain de-escalated even when it held the upper hand in coercive force. British bankers and merchants were encouraged to invest in the United States, even as propaganda about a joint Anglo-American destiny, linked by shared Anglo-Saxon heritage, percolated into American culture.

This was sagacious policy and was enabled in large part by the early recognition of the potential threat the United States posed and subsequently extensive window of opportunity. Given 80 years, most diplomatic relationships can be transformed in major ways – this is much less viable over shorter time frames. The result was that at the moment of transition, towards the end of the First World War – as British policymakers acknowledged that American industrial power so outmatched their own that America held the upper hand in any interaction, as was evidenced by the Paris Peace Conference and the 1922 Washington Naval Treaty – the United States looked on Britain not as a weakened rival, but as a culturally, economically, and at least somewhat strategically aligned partner. Debate persists, however, on the specifics of the Anglo-American transition of power, with many scholars placing it in 1945. However, I would argue that the passage happened in 1916 and was already visible at Versailles. Nevertheless, Britain continued to play a global role arguably disproportionate to its means. The USA, in turn, did not emerge as a hegemon until after the Second World War.

Why A Model?

Given that the historical record exists, why would a model of that transition be helpful? Principally because it allows clearer comparative analysis and the codification of lessons learnt.

First, in terms of comparative analysis, we can transfer this model to Sino-American relations relatively clearly. The potential for competition existed throughout the 1990s and 2000s as China grew in power, but the distracted United States only recognised the threat in 2009 with the Pivot/Rebalance to Asia. Others would argue that this recognition came even later, with the American declaration of China as a near-peer competitor. The United States is now in the window of opportunity vis a vis China, as the relative gap between the powers narrows, and must implement policy to forestall or cushion its decline. If current trends continue unabated, there will be a moment of transition, either when China peacefully surpasses American power; or when its aggressive moves run into a mutual red line.

Rather than attempting to draw difficult comparisons based on historical events in the Anglo-American relationship, the existence of the model allows references to history without getting lost in the details. Similarly, the model allows a clearer discussion of lessons learnt. British success stemmed in large part, I would argue, from early recognition of the American potential as a competitor. Others might suggest it was the result of effective policy within the window of opportunity. A model equips us with a common vocabulary to discuss a difficult topic.

This is not, of course, perfect. The model itself is applicable to Anglo-American hegemonic transition, and I believe Sino-American too, but it carries with it the weight of hindsight – assuming as it does that China will at some point fight the United States or move past it in some peaceful yet vital way. Equally plausible is the idea that China may fall short of hegemony, not due to American action within the window of opportunity, but internal socioeconomic weakness. Another possibility not fully incorporated in this model is that the United States and China may reach parity and remain there for a long period, with neither able to act as a hegemon. And, of course, in the general sense, having an avowedly simplifying model often makes things more complex, not less.

Despite that, given the growing importance of hegemonic transition, it is important to ensure rigour and clear communication in debates around it. This model, or something like it, may go some way towards helping in that effort.

Matthew Ader is an undergraduate student in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London with an interest in climate change and grand strategy. He tweets occasionally from @AderMatthew.

by Musab Alnour Ibrahim

On 11 April 2019, a popular revolution removed Omar Hassan al-Bashir from power. Since the ruler’s departure after more than thirty years, the Transitional Government of Sudan, led by Prime Minister Abdallah Hamdok, has been tasked with alleviating the economic hardship resulting from decades of mismanagement and corruption, addressing the lack of civil and human rights, as well as preparing the country for its first democratic elections in 2022. A major persisting issue facing the country is the devastating conflicts occurring in multiple regions. It is a crisis further exacerbated by the fact that Sudan is one of the countries most affected by climate change. In 2014, the U.S. Department of Defense classified climate change in its report as a ‘threat multiplier,’ highlighting the seriousness of the issue and asserting the role of climate change in creating the conditions for violent extremism and terrorism.

While there is scientific consensus on the causal links between human activities and rising temperatures, disagreement persists over the impact climate change has on the likeliness of a conflict to occur. However, it is widely agreed among academic circles that higher temperatures lead to severe droughts, desertification, flash floods in the rainy season, and other climate-linked disasters. These are all factors that increase the likelihood of conflicts. A recent study has concluded that more conflicts will occur as the environmental effects of climate change become more severe.

Threat multiplier: Climate change in Darfur

An often-cited example in the climate-conflict literature is the conflict in Darfur, which is considered by scholars like Jeffrey Mazo, as the world’s first modern-day climate change conflict. Since 2003, the western-most region of Sudan was at the centre stage of violent conflict between the al-Bashir government and allied militias, against the Sudanese Revolutionary Front, which accused the government of ethnic cleansing of black Africans in favour of Arabised indigenous Africans. According to International observers and scholars, the seeds of the Darfur conflict, which killed more than 300,000 people and displaced about 3 million, began with a famine in the mid-1980s.

As temperatures rose, water scarcity led to severe droughts and a shortage of grazing lands, impacting the adaptive capacity of Darfur. Consequently, as the Sahara Desert expanded southward overtaking once green areas, water points, and fertile pasture lands became focal points of the conflict between the semi-nomadic livestock herders and sedentary farmers, undermining the social fabric and peaceful coexistence in the region. The adverse environmental conditions caused by rising temperatures also negatively impacted economic prosperity in this volatile region, as freshwater sources become increasingly scarce, food production declined, and subsequently, people began to migrate in search of better opportunities.

The competition was complicated by the former regime’s policies that have led to the socioeconomic marginalisation of many Darfuris. For hundreds of years, tribal groups settled their differences through mechanisms built on past traditions. The main traditional mediation method in Darfur, called Judiya, allows for disputes to be resolved by setting up a reconciliation committee, which consists of a group of tribal elders as impartial facilitators, guiding the parties of the conflict towards a peacefully negotiated settlement. Under the government of al-Bashir, these mechanisms have been either weakened or abolished, further exacerbating the conflict.

The Darfur Conflict continues, despite the presence of one of the world’s largest peacekeeping missions. While the transitional government was able to agree with rebel groups in Darfur on the cessation of hostilities, the climate factors that exacerbated the conflict still remain. To maintain a lasting peace in the region, initiatives like the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa and Rwanda’s National Unity and Reconciliation Commission should be championed to rectify the wrongs of the past and mitigate disputes in the future.

Geopolitical implications of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam

The case of the Darfur conflict illustrated the consequences of severe climate conditions within a country. However, in recent years Sudan found itself in another water conflict, one which also involved its East African neighbours of Egypt and Ethiopia. At the heart of the dispute is the construction and operation of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) on the Blue Nile River, the latest development in one of the world’s oldest geopolitical rivalry. All three countries share the Blue Nile River, which provides 85% of the Nile River water and originates in the Ethiopian highlands. The $4.6bn hydroelectric dam is seen by Ethiopia as a legacy project that could lift millions out of poverty, as half of the population has no access to electricity. Once operational, the GERD will be Africa’s biggest hydroelectric power plant to date and the seventh-largest in the world, producing 6,500 megawatts of electricity for the country’s poorest regions. With power generation starting from 2021, the massive hydropower project is also intended to spur Ethiopia’s economic growth and turn the country into Africa’s biggest power exporter.

Ethiopia began working on the mega-dam project in 2011, while Egypt was mired in a political turmoil in the wake of the Arab Spring, not able to confront Ethiopia over the project at the time. Since then, Egypt, Ethiopia, and Sudan held multiple talks to reach an agreement on the operation and filling of the dam, the most contentious elements of any future agreement. While Ethiopia’s intention is to fill the dam’s reservoir over four to seven years, Egypt proposed an extension to over 15 years. With a fast-growing population of about 100 million people, Egypt heavily depends on the river for over 90% of its freshwater needs. For thousands of years, Egypt relied on the river to flood and help grow its crops in inland farms, providing sustenance for the poor and agricultural products to export. However, years of water mismanagement and pollution led to severe water scarcity, estimated in 2019 at around 570 cubic meters of water per person annually, well below the 1,000 cubic meters of water considered by hydrologists to be the threshold. Moreover, the dam’s location near the Ethiopian-Sudanese border suggests that once the dam is operational, Ethiopia could threaten downstream nations by controlling the flow of the river, without any serious consequences to its own territories.

Hence, despite the reassurances of Addis Ababa, Cairo fears the short-term drop in freshwater supply could pose an existential threat to Egypt, a threat they are prepared to answer militarily. While Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed has asserted, that negotiations are the way to resolve the dispute, he has warned that his country will go forward with its plans to fill the dam in the rainy season of July, even if that would lead to war. The challenge to reach a deal is complicated by nationalism and domestic considerations in both nations. For instance, much of the GERD’s cost was financed through public contributions from ordinary Ethiopians. The dispute is further complicated by colonial-era arrangements that are in favour of Egypt. For decades, affairs pertaining to the Nile River’s use were managed within the framework of the 1929 Nile Waters Agreement, signed between Egypt and Great Britain, which governed and negotiated at the time on behalf of Uganda, Kenya, Tanganyika (modern-day Tanzania), and Sudan.

The agreement gave Egypt a veto right over future water projects that could potentially affect its water supply. Subsequently, the 1959 Treaty further strengthened Egypt’s position, by allocating 55.5 billion cubic meters (66%) a year of the Nile water to the country, 18.5 BCM (22%) to Sudan, and the remaining 12% was left for evaporation. Neither of the treaties made any reference towards the rights of Ethiopia or the other Nile River basin nations. Fearing the loss of its current share of water supply, Egypt insists that any resolution respects the decades-long colonial treaties, while Ethiopia does not recognise the treaties. Downstream nations argue that under the Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA), a permanent resolution can be achieved. Meanwhile, Khartoum had to strike a balance between the interests of Cairo and Addis Ababa, while protecting its own interests. Despite the fact that Sudan initially opposed the GERD, due to safety concerns regarding the dam and its impact on its own dams, Khartoum was persuaded to support the project, as it will provide cheap electricity, decrease flooding downstream and increase crop rotations.

Negotiations between the three Nile River basin nations have yet to produce a conclusive agreement. Although a Declaration of Principles on the GERD, signed in 2015, was a significant step towards a resolution and affirmed the “equitable and reasonable” use of the Nile, the tripartite talks have failed to reach an agreement over the technical details of the dam’s filling and operations. The Crisis Group has studied the issues at hand and in its report, which suggested a two-step resolution to overcome the impasse. Firstly, the parties have to agree to a timetable for filling the reservoir, as well as a study of GERD’s impact on water flow. Secondly, once an agreement has been reached, Egypt has to work through the Nile Basin Initiative, which is an intergovernmental partnership of ten countries through which the Nile flows, to establish a working framework that would set the rights and obligations of each nation. Another suggestion came from the German Institute for International and Security Affairs, which proposed a mixture of technical and financial assistance from the European Union. Under this proposal, the EU would help create a compensation mechanism to ascertain the estimated cost for not filling the reservoir in the proposed time, and aid Cairo in compensating for the concessions made by Ethiopia.

As temperatures rise, wind and rainfall patterns will become more unpredictable. This is a particular vulnerability to the agricultural sector that still dominates many economies around the world. While this conflict is still ongoing, it is evident from the case study that as the effects of climate change become more severe, we are likely to see more water conflicts emerge in the future. Without a global treaty on the use and sharing of rivers suggested by experts, I argue that we will be bound to see more unilateral actions, that could destabilise volatile regions that already experience extreme political instability and economic hardship.

Musab Alnour Ibrahim holds an MA in Intelligence and International Security from King’s College London.