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Strife Series on Climate Change and Conflict (Part I) – Climate Change and the Rise of Islamist Terror: al-Shabaab in Somalia

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by Annabelle Green

Illicit charcoal trading, and deforestation that lies in its wake, is threatening an already fragile climate in Somalia (Image credit: Getty Images/AFR/T. Karumba)

In June 1989, a gathering of British, American, and Canadian bureaucrats in Wilton Park, England left little impression on history. At the conference, despite being titled ‘Sub-Saharan Africa: The Challenge of Population Growth, Desertification and Famine,’ only a handful of African representatives were present. Somalia did not feature significantly within the discussion, save for its involvement as one-sixth of the Inter-Governmental Authority on Drought and Development.

At a time when agriculture was the primary occupation of the Somali labour force  – seventy-one per cent in 1975 – the country was vulnerable to the key issues discussed. Adversities they faced, such as droughts and subsequent famines, were only exacerbated by a growing population and a decrease in fertile land appropriate for cultivation, caused by processes such as desertification. Despite these issues being highlighted, few attempts were made to improve the situation. Those at the meeting could not know that these environmental factors, if left unchecked, would hold great international significance in the future. By neglecting efforts to tackle the issue of climate change in Somalia, experts unknowingly aided the rise of violent extremist group al-Shabaab, which would come to present new and dangerous problems of its own.

Today, the severity of climate change as a key transnational issue is increasingly recognised by countries around the world. The international effort to combat Australian bushfires, Greta Thunburg’s global school strikes campaign, and emerging climate-centric summits, demonstrate the ever-growing awareness of climate change as a pressing issue. Yet, the negative effects of climate change, such as those in Somalia, are by no means a novel development. According to research conducted by the Federal Republic of Somalia published in 2013, Somalia has experienced one or more extreme climate events per decade since 1960. Along with excessive heat and subsequent famines, such as those of 1991 and 2011, Somalia has yoyo-ed between nationwide floods and droughts. These erratic patterns of rainfall are a strong indicator of climate change.

A startling lack of consensus surrounding the method to tackle climate change in Somalia can be largely attributed to the limited data collected on the country’s climate. This lack has been inhibited primarily by domestic political tensions which resulted in the ongoing civil war. Subsequently, the country’s climate monitoring network collapsed, resulting in little data availability from 1990 onwards. Such a situation has made it difficult for accurate scientific analysis of weather patterns to be conducted.  As a result, extreme weather and potential natural disasters are difficult to predict, based on the lack of records from previous years. This uncertainty adds to the lack of security in Somalia, as leaders do not have sufficient resources to deal with the aftermath of environmental crises, let alone prepare for them.

The impacts of climate change discussed so far, combined with other factors including desertification and above-average birth rates (compared to the Sub-Saharan average), exacerbate an already weak economy. The climate and economy are intrinsically linked. A key example of this is that land scarcity, caused by increased population levels and decreased fertility, is having an adverse effect on employment levels and food shortages. High youth unemployment contributes to further human insecurity; causing a small number, and only those that can afford it,  to migrate to Southern African countries. A large number of countries also do not accept Somali identification documents, meaning many cannot legally leave the country. Consequently, this had left the demographic more vulnerable to recruitment campaigns of al-Shabaab.

While the relationship between human insecurity and the likelihood of joining an extremist group is not linear, there is a strong correlation between both. Research suggests that those who face uncertainty are more likely to be attracted to extremist groups because they offer a clear vision for the future. al-Shabaab provides members and their families the security most of the country is lacking. In return, it commands an intense commitment from its followers to comply with its ideology. Moreover, militants have been known to divert river water to commercial farmers who have supported them financially, whilst others experience shortages. The importance of human security to this issue has been acknowledged: before 1994, policies surrounding the improvement of conditions in countries such as Somalia were focused on national security. However, following a UN report produced in 1994, there was a shift to emphasis on human security. While not conclusive, this shift to a human security focus in Somalia demonstrates the impact that poor socio-economic conditions, exacerbated by climate extremities, have on wider political and security issues.

Critically, it seems that al-Shabaab is not only impacted by, but contributing to, the negative effects of climate change. A key example of this is al-Shabaab’s deforestation endeavours, which supported its charcoal trade until late 2019. For this reason, the United Nations Security Council imposed an embargo on Somali charcoal trade in 2012. However, before this legislation was implemented, nearly two-thirds of forests in southern Somalia were destroyed to ship charcoal to the Persian Gulf. These shipments went through the port of Kismayo, which was only recaptured from the militant group in 2012. Revenues from Kismayo and two other ports run by al-Shabaab were estimated to have earned the group between $35-50 million a year, according to a UN report.  The removal of these trees from the Somali ecosystem has led to a deficit in nutrients and a subsequent decrease in fertile ground. This has subsequently worsened the impacts of extreme climate change that are ongoing in the East-African country, escalating the scale of floods and famines.

A key concern is that al-Shabaab has recognised that a level of environmental insecurity is in its best interests to strengthen its power. This is supported by evidence suggesting the terrorist organisation exploited the Somali famine of 2011. It forcibly limited movement when residents tried to flee areas of the country most severely impacted by the food shortages. The group consistently blocked support from NGOs, suggesting it would prefer a starving population than a dilution of power. Its own feeble attempts to manage the situation, such as a Drought Committee founded in 2010, have made little progress. The country has continued to experience droughts almost annually in the last five years. Therefore there is a strong argument to suggest that despite some attempts to act as a social regulator, there is little motivation for Al Shabaab to facilitate improvement.

In conclusion, al-Shabaab clearly benefited from the impacts of climate change in Somalia. The loss of fertile land has led to an economically vulnerable population; which the terrorist organisation has fuelled through deforestation efforts and promoting competition for scarce resources (by limiting in-migration). With few opportunities, a consequently disillusioned youth have turned to extremism for some form of security, however tenuous. There is little motivation for al-Shabaab to improve conditions, demonstrated by its refusal to grant access to NGOs and prevention of out-migration in famine stricken areas. The meagre attempts it has made to improve conditions, such as its Drought Committee, appear superficial and have achieved limited results. Through such exploitation of the impacts of climate change, al-Shabaab in Somalia sustains already rife human insecurity, thus strengthening its own power.

 Annabelle Green is currently completing an MA in Terrorism, Security and Society at King’s College London. She hopes to pursue a career in policy surrounding extremist offenders and in her spare time volunteers as a researcher for the charity Action on Armed Violence. She can be found on LinkedIn.

Strife Series on Climate Change and Conflict – Introduction

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by Gemma MacIntyre

Studies show a direct correlation between climate and violent conflict (Image credit: Image: Reuters/Amit Dave)

In recent decades, climate change has been recognised as an important international concern. Scientists and leaders worldwide agree that the pressure of increased temperatures on crop yields, natural capital, and water availability – and subsequent demand for already dwindling resources – is undoubtedly of detriment to global populations. In a recent IPCC report, it was concluded that a predicted 1.5-degree celsius of global warming could significantly impede efforts to achieve sustainable development goals: pushing more people into poverty, exacerbating inter-group equalities, and wreaking global economic disruption. Such acute warnings from scientists, combined with mounting pressure from environmental activists worldwide, has prompted multilateral efforts to curb carbon emissions.

As states have become more aware of the impact of climate change, so too have they come to analyse it from different perspectives. In doing so, an important consensus has emerged: that climate change is not merely an environmental concern; it is a human security challenge too, with the potential to aggravate societal grievances. Further, the impact of increased temperatures on already scarce resources, migration movements, and food security may affect both intra- and inter-state relations: with the capacity to fuel further conflict.

Still, the direct impacts of climate on international conflict and security remain somewhat hazy; and policies to address it, scarce. This is partially due to the empirical difficulties of measuring climate’s impact on violence. Associating casualties with conflict is, at the best of times, challenging: let alone when those causal factors – including changing temperatures, rising sea levels, and depletion of resources – are intangible. Further, while drought and extreme temperatures have undoubtedly exacerbated poverty and forced displacement in regions such as Syria, Sudan, and Bangladesh; in a knotted web of additional political, social, and economic grievances, isolating climate as a cause of conflict is difficult to ascertain.

With that being said, while the empirical evidence remains uncertain, it is critical to treat climate change as not merely an environmental or economic concern, but as an international security issue, as well. To analyse this idea in greater depth, this series aims to form a discussion about the relationship between climate change and conflict. By outlining the impact of climate change on issues including terrorism, migration, and civil strife; this series aims to demonstrate the multifaceted nature of climate change as an international security challenge. It is hoped that, by doing so, it will emphasise the relevance of climate change to contemporary conflict studies, and national security policy more widely.

 

Publication schedule

Part I: Why Has Somalia Proved a Fertile Environment for the Rise of Al Shabaab? The Impacts of Climate Change on the Rise of Islamist Terror by Annabelle Green

Part II: Climate Change and Social Conflict by Professor Anatol Lieven

Part III: Slow Violence: Climate Refugees and the Legal Lacuna of Protection by Ellie Judd

Part IV: Water Conflicts: Climate Change as a Threat Multiplier in Sub-Saharan Africa by Musab Alnour

Gemma graduated from the University of St Andrews in International Relations and Management and is now studying an MA in Conflict, Security and Development at King’s College London. During her undergraduate degree, she studied a range of post-conflict cases, with a particular focus on intractable conflicts such as Israel-Palestine and Bosnia. Through her academic studies and voluntary experience with VSO in Nigeria, Gemma has developed a strong interest in the relationship between corruption and development. Her experience with VSO Nigeria furthered this interest, as she was made aware of the acute impacts of governance on public services, such as health and education. She hopes to pursue further research on the impact of conflict on health security.

 

 

 

 

 

Why do so few Scholars Study the Intersection of Climate and Security?

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by Matthew Ader

Climate change or security, a question of the one or the other? (Image credit: Lisa Benson)

I have had two and a half hours of teaching on climate change and security in two years, and I am unlikely to get any more. BA and MA courses at the King’s Department of War Studies do not offer any modules about climate change. Neither do security studies courses at Exeter, St Andrews, Oxford, or Cambridge. The US has equally slim pickings. Where tuition does exist, it tends to focus on human security and development; not strategy and operations.

And yet climate change is reshaping the world in unpredictable ways. Multiple governments even named it as a major security threat. Academics correlate climate change, if a little tentatively, with increased rates of conflict. However, scholars of strategy and war do not seem to focus on it. I surveyed thirty-four International Relations and Security Studies journals – all those with an H-Index above 30. Since 1995, these journals have, between them, published 45 articles about the intersection of climate change and conflict. As a matter of contrast, just one of those journals, International Organization, published 4356 total articles in the same period.

This initial survey reveals a worrying gap in the literature. Security courses that rely on this research are the incubator for future policymakers and analysts, while academics are often called upon to advise governments. A failure to address climate change risks depriving the next generation of security leaders and thinkers of a solid grounding in an important subject. At best, this may leave governments scrambling to cope with unforeseen challenges. At worst, it could lead to the creation of bad policy – or even open the door for malign actors who take advantage of climate change to push other agendas.

Why has security academia not fully engaged in this subject? Partially, it is because academics are very busy and have many existing commitments. Undertaking novel research or designing new courses, especially when the literature is so sparse, is time-consuming. It is also risky; work on climate change may not be valued in the same way as more conventional topics when hunting for jobs. Worse still, there is little research funding in climate change and security. Ministries and Departments of Defence have declared climate change to be a threat but have yet to put their money where their mouth is. These challenges, combined with the broader structural precarity of academic careers, militate against researchers investigating climate change and security.

These generally applicable concerns are worsened by personnel policy. Security studies departments are not hiring climate change experts. For example, of the eighty academics in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London, only two mention climate as a research interest. This makes cross-sectoral research more difficult. Even more concerning still is that such a deficit reduces opportunities for students interested in climate and security to study the issue. This, in turn, perpetuates the existing scarcity, creating a negative feedback loop. Of course, it would be unfair and inaccurate to blame this purely on hiring practices. A department cannot hire scholars who do not exist. However, it is at least partially a chicken-and-egg problem. The lack of cross-sectoral research and limited tuition opportunities addressing climate and security make it harder to attract additional academic talent to the field.

A related challenge is that climate change does not fit within traditional models of security analysis. It is not a human actor, it does not deploy discrete methods, and it is difficult to analyse through the conventional lenses of IR theory or grand strategy. Grappling with the climate requires scientific and geographical knowledge which falls outside the specialisms of most security scholars. For example, the fierce debate among geographers over the linkage between climate and conflict depends on comparing rainfall data against incidences of violence. Unless an academic is trained to a high level in meteorological modelling, they are unlikely to be able to engage with the discussion in depth. The one partial exception to this is the Human Security field. Human security, with its focus on different issues impacting ordinary people, has covered climate change in more detail. However, its perspective has more to do with development and local interventions than big-picture decision-making. While there are absolutely insights to be gained from that discipline for national policymakers, it does not answer the broader questions required to inform strategic decision-making.

Lastly, while we are seeing the impacts of climate change now, its most dramatic impacts lie in the future. Mass climate migration, unprecedented littoral urbanization, and irreversible water scarcity are not science fiction but their true implications are only just emerging. Scholars are understandably reticent to engage in speculation – it is risky and can lead to poor quality research. This is especially true for security studies and international politics, which are wildly unpredictable. As General McMaster noted, “we have a perfect record of predicting future wars…and that record is 0%.”

This is compounded by the creeping nature of climate change. On 12 September 2001, nearly every security scholar turned their attention to terrorism and the Middle East. I’m sure that a similar statistical analysis of journals from 1985 to 2000 would show relatively few articles about Salafi jihadism, but academics were able to apply their existing knowledge to the new problem. It is not clear that this will happen with climate change, because there will probably not be a single dramatic event which changes conversations and research priorities. Rather, it will incrementally alter global conditions over the span of decades, shaping a new normal.

Such a slow-moving emergency is unlikely to attract enough research to effectively inform policy – especially given that great power competition, terrorism, and biosecurity will, among other issues, remain pressing concerns throughout the period. This is worsened, as noted, by the requirement for expert scientific knowledge to properly study climate change. In short, there is unlikely to be a catalyst for the study of climate change, and if there is, security scholars may struggle to obtain the necessary scientific knowledge to properly engage with the issue in a timely fashion.

There is no single policy prescription that can magically fix this deficit. However, it is a problem – and it must be rectified. Climate change is actively reshaping the world. If security academics do not provide perspectives on it, the security implications may be ignored. Worse, they might be dishonestly weaponised to achieve a larger agenda. We have seen this already with alt-right groups using fear of climate migration as a recruiting tactic. The past four years have clearly shown that radical ideologies can find purchase at the highest levels of government. In the absence of informed views from authoritative sources, decisionmakers may turn to confident ideologues for answers.

At the end of that lecture on climate change, I asked the lecturer what the strategic plan was for dealing with the mass migrations, droughts, and water wars he predicted. He said that there was not a single one. The gap in the research is no one’s fault. But catastrophe does not care about intention. Policymakers will require effective advice to navigate the new challenges of this century. The academic community should mobilise to provide it – and security academics should lead the charge.

[1] This was achieved by searching their archives for all articles from 1995-2020 with “climate change” in the title and manually sorting through. This method is necessarily vulnerable to personal judgement and can exclude work on topics adjacent to climate change & security i.e. food scarcity.

Matthew Ader is a second-year student doing War Studies. He has worked as an intern in a number of security consultancy firms. His academic interests gravitate loosely towards understanding challenges and opportunities for Anglo-American strategy in the 21st century (and also being snide about Captain America’s command ability). He is also an editor for Roar News, and has written for a number of security publications – most especially Wavell Room. You can follow him on Twitter: @AderMatthew.

Cash Crops, Conflict, and Climate Change

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by Eve Gleeson

Mexico’s Avocado police on patrol (Image credit: Katy Watson/BBC)

The cultivation of crops is a steady and promising source of economic gain for developing states, both through internal markets and international trade. However, these powerhouses of economic success may well serve as a double-edged sword. Lacking robust and well-enforced laws and regulations, the economies and populations of many states have become dependent on, or in some cases addicted to, the success of these crops for their livelihoods and security. This success has precipitated destructive practices in subservience to the crop’s lucrative economic benefits, such as informal governance by militias and the decimation of environmental resources such as land and water.

Circumstances in Yemen and Mexico, in particular, point to these hostile relationships surrounding cash crops. In Mexico, militias are operating through kidnappings and killings, forests and ecosystems are being destroyed for land clearings, and local populations are facing health hazards from excessive pesticide use. In Yemen, the market monopolisation of a non-food crop is exacerbating a famine originally created by war and natural resource scarcity. In both of these cases, environmental pressures have preceded or followed from the urgency exerted by a stressed food system, depicting the inseparable relationship between unsustainable agriculture and compromised social, economic, and political stability.

Yemen’s cash crop drug: conflict, famine, and natural resource depletion

The War in Yemen, a conflict between the Houthi rebel movement, government forces, and a coalition of Arabian states, has resulted in a famine that harbours a much darker backstory than blockades stopping the import of food and water to the country. In addition, the famine has been worsened by the growth of khat (or qat), a stimulant drug that features as Yemen’s superstar crop. It has brought such financial gain to its growers that it has taken priority in farming country over other crops, such as wheat or fruits, that could provide sustenance to its people. Khat is so ubiquitous in the country’s political economy that it has become entwined with the interests of warring factions, further spurring conflict, water depletion, and famine on the peninsula.

The crop is the source of a violent dispute between farmers, a currency for bribe-seeking soldiers, and a dominant figure in the country’s markets, detrimentally crowding out crops that could help soften the blow of Yemen’s famine. It provides a source of funding for both the Houthi rebels and the pro-government forces in the war, as ‘qat traders pay a tax on their qat to whichever side controls their region‘. The crop also consumes close to forty per cent of Yemen’s clean water reserves, thereby further overtaxing water resources already weaponised by warring factions that destroy infrastructure, obstruct roadways, and blockade imports.

To make matters worse, the stimulant drug is also challenging Yemen’s dependence on groundwater reserves that are dwindling under drought, heat, and other climatic irregularities. The government lacks the capacity to enforce modern water rights, which have been rejected by wealthy farmers who regularly exploit their poor counterparts by drilling on their land. Now, farmers freely drill wells without government regulation. As a result, they continue to use highly unsustainable groundwater reserves to feed khat production, with no plan for developing renewable water sources for human or agricultural use as droughts persist and temperatures rise.

‘Blood Avocados’ in Mexico’s Michoacán state

Avocados, known to many in the growing industry as ‘green gold’, account for conflict between rival farmers and traders in Mexico. Cartels, violence, and extortion are just some of the troubling factors behind this cash crop; one that has drained resources– land, water, and capital– from the regions in which they are grown. Major importers such as the United States, the EU, and Japan have driven a $2 billion industry rooted thousands of miles away with little conception of the havoc the efforts have inflicted on the region of Michoacán, where production is concentrated.

In the Michoacán state, four principal narcotics cartels extorting avocado farmers have transformed the region into what Mexican online magazine Clarín Mundo has called Mexico’s ‘Capital of Violence’. Failure to pay ‘monthly protection’ fees to the cartels has resulted in kidnappings, killings, and seizures of farmland. In response, state-funded self-defence militias have sprouted from the local community to combat these gangs, whose narcoterrorism is partially financed by the extortion of farmers. Consequently, the region’s capital of Tacitaro has become militarised: ‘The new force is equipped with armored patrol trucks, and each officer wears full combat gear, including bulletproof vests, helmets, and high-power rifles — all provided for by the state police’.

This industry is also guilty of precipitating deforestation and water depletion (avocados require nearly 320 litres of water per unit) as well as stimulating competition for land that has provoked the intentional burning of wildlife ecosystems. This deforestation, performed illegally, points to gaps in environmental governance. Climatic irregularities, such as droughts and floods, have further troubled soil and land health, compromising the fertility of existing farmland. Given that growing a crop at an industrial scale often requires the heavy use of pesticides, these chemicals have contaminated the water supply in avocado-growing regions and sickened local populations.

The bigger picture: the disparate effects of climate change on developing states

This unmistakable relationship between food and conflict is an increasingly global issue that threatens and is likewise threatened by, the pressures of resource and environmental degradation. Though vastly different in nature, the cases of Yemen and Mexico illustrate how unsustainable agricultural practices, themselves propagated by gaps in governance and commodity demands from rich, developed states, can manifest in a conflict where effective protection of farmers and land is absent, particularly in an era when climatic changes are an increasing threat to security. Similar situations are unfolding in places like Iraq, where desertification and salination of water tables resulting from climatic irregularities are intensifying grievances in an already fragile state.

For this reason, the looming threat of climate change is not a ‘first world problem’. Although developed countries have the technological and financial resources (even if they lack the willpower) to transition to renewable energy, sustainable agricultural practices, and lower carbon emissions, the threat is a less immediate one for many. Wealthier developed countries have the resources for more expensive projects, like desalination of saltwater, if groundwater reserves become exhausted or contaminated. For communities that strive day-to-day for economic, political, and social stability and predictability, climate change can mean compromises to essential crop yields, irreplaceable loss of natural resources, increased conflict, and even displacement.

How can the global community ensure that more vulnerable populations stop suffering from food and nutrition insecurity, domestic tensions and war, contaminated and insufficient water resources, or displacement at the hand of climate change? Addressing climate change is at the forefront of this matter: lowering greenhouse gas emissions and increasing the carbon sequestration capacity of land by repairing broken systems. In the short term, we must consider how the demands and interventions of more developed and often opportunistic states impact the ability for less stable states to ensure food, water, and other basic livelihoods. Grassroots organisations like Soil, Food and Healthy Communities in Malawi and Sustainable Harvest International in Central America are making major headway in creating more sustainable and regenerative practices in communities that struggle with food insecurity. But movements in the West must acknowledge the disparate effects of climate change on vulnerable communities and their impact on international security.

Eve Gleeson holds a Master’s degree in International Relations from the Department of War Studies at King’s College London. After briefly working in threat intelligence, she is shifting her focus toward sustainable agriculture and food policy. She can be found on LinkedIn or on Twitter at @evegleeson_. 

Will there be an Original Sin of the Decarbonised Era?

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by Michael C. Davies

Does decarbonisation by 2030 or at least 2050 present us with the inevitability of tragedy in one way or the other? (Image credit: Shutterstock)

The UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) is unambiguous in saying that by 2030, without momentous efforts to decarbonise, the catastrophic effects of climate change cannot be avoided. Put simply, we have ten years to save human civilisation. Beyond the usual wranglings about climate change denial, debates over costs versus benefits, and government versus private sector innovation and largesse, the carbon cost of global military operations has only started to be understood as a key driver of carbon emissions. As a recent report from Brown University’s Costs of War project noted, “The [U.S. Department of Defense] is the single largest consumer of energy in the US, and in fact, the world’s single largest institutional consumer of petroleum.” Other similarly-sized armed forces, while not as polluting, still produce mammoth amounts of carbon daily. The problem at hand, therefore, suggests that among the best ways to initiate a global reduction in carbon is a general disarmament, even if temporary. However, in the event disarmament does occur, without appropriate forethought, there exists the possibility for states to bargain away the freedom and existence of other states and peoples as the price for disarmament—creating an original sin for the decarbonised era.

Original sin comes to us from Judeo-Christian theology by way of Adam and Eve eating the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, and in doing so transmitting their sins and guilt to their descendants. Its more common, secular usage, however, refers to the foundational wrong that helped to enact a new political order. The birth of many countries, as well as the present international system, holds multiple examples of original sins. For the Americas, slavery and the genocide of indigenous people stand among the most obvious. Depending on one’s viewpoint, the Holocaust or Israel’s very existence and the subsequent Nakbah are described as such. The Soviet’s brutal domination over Poland and other Eastern European states after the Second World War were described similarly, particularly as they were intended, and agreed upon, to be re-birthed as independent states. The mutual genocide between India and Pakistan at Partition, the genocide of the Armenians and others in the creation of modern Turkey, the Congolese genocide by Belgium, and the genocide and reprisals in Rwanda in the mid-90s, just to name a few, all count as original sins of new orders. Each of these stains the honor, dignity, and history of each country involved, and in turn affect the culture, political distribution of power, and national narratives. It is also why denial and forgetting are encouraged by those who made it happen. Such is the power of the original sin.

The current international system, enshrined in the United Nations Charter, and made real via the UN organization and numerous international agreements, is an outgrowth of, and legitimising feature of, overwhelming US power—political, military, economic, and cultural. If disarmament is a key to decarbonisation, two basic options emerge. First, a global agreement is signed to set new and/or maintain existing state boundaries, to forbid the engagement in any form of dehumanising actions within said boundaries, and mutual aid is provided to mitigate the effects of climate change for a set period of time. Such an agreed understanding will lock in the existing international order for the time being and keep everyone tethered to the technological breakthroughs within, and economic power of, the Great Powers as the price of disarmament. Second, that Great and Medium Powers alike will utilise the need to decarbonise by disarmament as leverage to achieve their long-held aims—the very thing the military capabilities exist to achieve in the first place—in order to declare themselves secure enough to disarm. This will, if accepted as such, lock in an altered international system, and in all likelihood, present us with the choice of having to allow the destruction and/or domination of entire groupings to save the planet—an original sin of a new era.

What do I mean by this? Obviously, just by sheer carbon numbers, the Great Powers—the US, China, India, the EU, Japan, and Russia must decarbonise the most. As they are the biggest polluters, with the biggest militaries, decarbonisation must start there. But what would happen if, for example, China demands Taiwan be returned to it in order for it to disarm? Or Vietnam be turned into a vassal state? Even as we now know the depth of China’s actions against the Uighurs, should someone be sacrificed to get China on board? What if Russia demands the Baltics and all of Ukraine be placed under its ‘stewardship’ or absorbed into Russian territorial control? Would North Korea disarm and/or denuclearise for the greater good, or would they demand South Korea be absorbed into the North, inflicting another famine and state-terror on its new citizens? Would India require the removal of 200 million Muslims from its territory—as it seems to desire—as the price of disarming? Should we accept, as we have with Syria, the imposition of a dictator willing to burn the country down to keep control in a variety of places?

Disarmament, by itself, rarely equals peace. In fact, it usually leads to annihilation. It is inherent in the character of a new order to shift people, power, and resources so as to strengthen victorious allies and weaken defeated enemies. Any agreement to fight climate change must come with an agreement to disarm. But with that goes the military power that provides the security function that enforces the existing international system, both the good and the bad of it. Security is in the eye of the beholder and as we see so clearly right now, not even a global pandemic can tamper down global conflicts. It is therefore not a hard image to conjure up of world leaders allowing the destruction, absorption, and/or terror of an entire populous to save the planet, or at least, their own skins. And at that moment, we will have found our new original sin.

Michael C. Davies is a Ph.D. candidate in Defence Studies at King’s College London, focusing on the theory and practice of victory. He previously conducted lessons learned research at the U.S. National Defense University where he co-authored three books on the Wars of 9/11 and is one of the progenitors of the Human Domain doctrinal concept. He is also the Coordinating Editor with Strife.