Bangladesh’s February Election: The Final Step for the Interim Government

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On February 12, 2026, Bangladesh will head to the polls to elect members to serve in the nation’s parliament. It has been just under a year and a half since student-led protests ousted former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, and the upcoming elections mark the final step in the interim government's exit from politics and the transfer of power to a democratically elected administration.

These elections are the culmination of a political crisis that erupted in July 2024, when student demonstrations swept the nation in response to a Supreme Court ruling on job quotas. This ruling reinstated the previously abolished quota stipulating 30 percent of government jobs must be reserved for relatives of veterans from the 1971 Liberation War. The protests quickly erupted into violence, and Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina fled the country as crowds stormed her presidential residence and demanded her removal. In addition to anger against the ruling on job quotas, individuals were frustrated with high inflation, high post-pandemic unemployment rates, and growing mistrust of Hasina’s political party, the Awami League. Her administration, long accused of systemic corruption, faced allegations of bribery, nepotism, and money laundering, allowing Hasina to steal billions from the government. According to reports from the interim government, as much as $16 billion annually may have been siphoned under Hasina’s 15-year rule. 

After the fall of the Hasina regime, the vacuum of power was filled by an interim government led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus, a national hero for his work on microcredit. At 84, Yunus had faced years of vilification under the Hasina regime and given up his own political ambitions. Yet, following the uprising, he celebrated Hasina’s removal as a “second independence” and agreed to lead the temporary government and the efforts to restore democracy. While Yunus publicly celebrated the regime’s removal, the reality of the situation was far more precarious as they were met with a system deeply corroded by years of corruption and political violence, an economy losing steam, rising unemployment, and angered political activists swearing to avenge Hasina’s regime. As the country heads into elections and the interim government transfers power to the first administration elected by popular rule since 2008, time will reveal whether they made enough progress under their leadership. 

Liberation War of 1971

To understand the significance of the upcoming elections, the parties bidding for power, and the issues at stake, it is important to look at the nation’s history. Bangladesh’s political landscape today still wears the scars of British colonialism and the 1971 Liberation War. In 1947, India gained independence from British colonialisation, and the Indian subcontinent was partitioned, leaving Bengal split between Pakistan and India. West Bengal was to be ruled by India, and East Bengal formed the eastern wing of Pakistan. Under West Pakistan’s rule, there were mounting political and economic disparities that led to resistance and rising Bangladesh nationalism. In 1971, Pakistan launched Operation Search Light to quell nationalism, but instead it sparked a brutal conflict, ending with Bangladesh securing their independence. Millions of people were killed, and many more were displaced, a tragedy that haunts the memory of the nation today. 

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The political landscape that defined the nation for the decades that followed was perniciously polarized between the Awami League (AL) and the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP)- both of which used the 1971 war as a means of legitimization. The father of Sheikh Hasina, the leader of the AL, was Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the leader of the independence movement and known as the “Father of the Nation.” Khaleda Zia, the leader of the BNP, is the wife of Ziaur Rahman, the senior member of the armed forces who broadcast the start of the war and became the first president of the BNP in 1977.

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Sheikh Mujibur Rahman awaiting the result of the 1970 election.

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Ziaur Rahman in 1979 serving as the 6th President of Bangladesh (1977-1981). 

Pernicious Polarization

The AL and the BNP have dominated the political system since the nation’s independence. Despite technically being a multiparty system, no third party has been able to escape the shadow of the entrenched division between the two parties. With the AL representing the center-left and secular position, and the BNP representing the center-right, nationalist position, the ideological spectrum has left little room for the emergence of new parties. This creates party system institutionalization, wherein years of stable party competition and a lack of electoral volatility cement political parties into predictable patterns of intra-party competition around a divisive social cleavage.

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Institutional incentives within the Bangladesh Parliament, Jatiya Sangsad, have further entrenched polarization. As a winner-takes-all electoral system, the political party in power is able to concentrate executive power during the duration of its term. As the party in power, both the AL and BNP, despite coming to power through a democratic process, act in an authoritarian manner. With little to no constitutional checks and balances, the winning party has unfettered access to state resources and institutions and can even amend the constitution with a supermajority vote. 

When Yunus assumed power, his outlined agenda proposed sweeping institutional change, the prosecution of those who committed violence during the protests, and the reinstatement of credible elections. While the interim government has garnered criticisms, they have stabilised the economy and achieved the cross-party consensus necessary to pass the July Charter in December 2025 (named after the 2024 uprisings). This charter is the culmination of the constitutional reform recommendations made by Yunus’ government and the thirty political parties consulted. Additionally, Yunus reinstated the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT) and formed the Commission of Inquiry on Enforced Disappearances, revealing the systemic nature of the crimes committed under Hasina’s rule. 

Principal Actors and Issues in 2026

In the 2026 February election, the two main political parties campaigning for seats in parliament are the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) and Jamaat-e-Islami. As the Awami League has been banned from participating under the Anti-Terrorism Act passed in May 2025, the electoral landscape has shifted significantly. Its supporters, who made up almost 50 percent of the popular vote from the December 2008 election, will have to decide to vote for another party, if they decide to vote at all. 

The BNP, last in power from 2001-2006, has historically been the AL’s principal rival. However, it has also harbored a sense of disillusionment from citizens who view the party as no different from the Awami League. As the International Crisis Group reports, Bangladeshis see the parties as “two sides of the same coin,” focused on money and power, not the improvement of the state. That said, in December 2025, two events managed to garner support for the party. On December 25, Tarique Rahman, the party’s leader, returned to Bangladesh, where he was greeted by hundreds of thousands of protestors. Five days later, his mother, who served as the first female prime minister, Khaleda Zia, passed away from prolonged illness. Whether or not this translates into support will be left unknown until the election. 

The other main political party is Jaamat-e-Islami, the largest Islamist party in Bangladesh. Unlike the BNP and AL, Jaamat collaborated with Pakistan and opposed the liberation movement during the 1971 Liberation War. While it has never secured a majority in parliament, the party has played an important role in past elections by forming alliances with both the AL and the BNP at different periods of time. However, when the AL last held power, Jamaat was marginalized and its political strength weakened significantly. In 2008, the AL conducted a War Crimes Tribunal for the crimes committed during the Liberation War, ultimately convicting and executing many of the party's top leaders, making their current rise all the more surprising. 

With the AL banned from participating in the upcoming election, it opens up space for Jamaat to become the main opposition to the BNP. In recent years, the party has made an effort to rebrand itself as a more progressive and tolerant Islamic party, a strategy aided by the fact that younger generations are less concerned about the party’s controversial role in the Liberation War. Under the leadership of Shafiqur Rahman, the party has also created one of the strongest social media platforms. Although some fear their resurgence could threaten women’s rights and freedoms, they have rejected these fears. At the same time, they have formed political alliances with the National Citizen Party (NCP) and the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), and are fielding the Hindu candidate Krishna Nandi to expand their electoral reach. 

Ultimately, the next stage in Bangladesh’s political history must be decided at the ballot box. The passing of the July Charter was only the first step in the path to democratic reform, and it is up to the next government to follow through with making the necessary constitutional changes and facilitating political reconciliation. However, this doesn’t come without both domestic and international challenges- namely, their relationship with India, the Rohingya refugees, great-power rivalries, and the economic frustration of the youth population-making the February election all the more important.

The Shadows of Statelessness: Life in Kutupalong Refugee Camp

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What does it mean to be stateless in a world of borders? To be born in Kutupalong Refugee Camp is to know statelessness in your very first seconds on Earth. You are born untethered from the protection of the womb and untethered from the security and identity inherent to citizenship. Even your birth itself is precarious: the refugee camp’s medical infrastructure is stretched thin, and the maternal mortality rate is frighteningly high. Your earliest memories and your formative years are enveloped and shaped by constant uncertainty. To be born in Kutupalong is to be born invisible; in a world of strict, controlled borders and carefully placed national identities, one of international conflict and global policy, you are the world’s afterthought. The concept of your inalienable human rights may never reach your soft ears and fresh eyes. And as you grow older, the true meaning of your invisibility in such a world will become all too clear.

Among the lush mountains and pristine beaches of Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, lies the Kutupalong Refugee Camp. Kutupalong is not only the largest, but also the most populated refugee camp in the world to this day, hosting approximately one million people. It is also the most densely populated region in Bangladesh, the tenth most densely populated country in the world, with a population density 1.5 times higher than that of the capital, Dhaka. In Kutupalong, space is a luxury. The close quarters and flimsy structures are an immediate reminder of the precarity of those within; the instability of statelessness is compounded by the instability of the camp itself. Life must be conducted among tight spaces, as human connection must shine through the cracks. 

Kutupalong is home to the Rohingya Muslims, a minority ethnic group native to the fog-laden mountains of the Rakhine State in Myanmar (formerly Burma). Beneath the misty peaks lie the seeds of a vicious ethnic animosity: the Rohingya have faced systemic discrimination and overwhelming violence at the hands of Buddhist nationalist groups, a campaign that has been labeled as a form of ethnic cleansing and genocide by numerous countries and human rights organizations. 

As it often does, this ethnic cleansing and genocide worked its way through legal and institutional mechanisms in Myanmar before manifesting as physical violence. In 1978, the military government took power, ushering in the first of many waves of Rohingya migration to neighboring Bangladesh. The Myanmar citizenship law, passed in 1982, recognized the official ethnic groups of the country, but intentionally excluded the Rohingya. Instead, they were singled out as foreigners, despite having resided in the Rakhine State for centuries, labeled out of step with the nation’s Buddhist nationalist majority, and thus denied citizenship rights. The ethnic tensions have 20th century colonial origins: the Rohingya were originally aligned with the British occupation, and were later systemically targeted by Burmese groups aligned with Imperial Japan and later communist forces, fostering a deep resentment that has simmered ever since. This forced statelessness coincided with the forcible taking of land, employment exclusion, and other forms of systemic discrimination. 

The extensive dangers of childbirth in Kutupalong are a microcosm for the manifold pressures on daily life among the Rohingya. A pregnant woman is incredibly vulnerable to the elements; the Bangladeshi government ban on permanent structures means that the spaces she occupies are shielded merely by bamboo and tarpaulin, nowhere near enough protection from the frequent torrential monsoon downpours, nevermind basic privacy. Her shelter is small, much too small; in fact, it is significantly smaller than UNHCR guidelines for refugee shelters. Should she need sanitation services, she will find that four times more people than the UNHCR recommendation end up sharing sanitation units in the camp. When she needs medical services, it will be incredibly difficult to get her to a hospital. Multiple delays occur in seeking medical care: initial delays stem from a warranted distrust of large institutions and the Bangladeshi government; there are further delays in physically reaching a medical center, as there is no robust health center in Kutupalong itself; and additional delays prevent receiving appropriate care for a number of reasons ranging from overburdened services to discrimination. As the years wear on, international attention wanes, and foreign aid from Western countries and NGOs dries up, leaving mothers without essential supplies for pre- and post-partum care. The armed gangs that have taken root in the camps in the absence of government oversight mean that she is at constant risk of violence. The mental and social stresses are incredibly detrimental to the health of her and her child. Mothers are constantly facing an onslaught of instability, and life in Kutupalong grows ever more complicated over the years.

For that baby to grow up in Kutupalong, all they know is to be caught between a country that does not want them and a country that disowns them. Their education will be spotty and piecemeal at best. Their friendships and childhood memories must grow in the tight spaces of the camps, the cracks in the bamboo tents and the tarpaulin walls. They must survive widespread disease and little medicine to remedy it. As they grow older, a lack of economic opportunity becomes painfully clear. The armed groups which have taken hold in the camp and funnel illicit substances may try to recruit them, but may also threaten them if they cross the armed groups. They have heard stories of their older peers sailing to Malaysia or Indonesia for economic opportunities; this becomes an increasingly seductive, if incredibly dangerous option. They always remember the risk of being repatriated back to Myanmar, and facing violence or death in the process. Most of all, they want to take their fate into their own hands, and escape the shadow of statelessness that has haunted them since birth.

In their escape, the Rohingya have found great difficulty; Bangladesh has been, at best, wary, and at worst, actively hostile to its role in housing these refugees. Repatriation attempts in the 1990s led to subsequent danger and death for those who were forced back into Myanmar. Notably, such repatriation is illegal under the 1967 UN Protocol on Refugees, specifically in its policy of non-refoulment; repatriation is an aspirational goal, but can only occur if those refugees are returning to a safe environment where they will not be persecuted. As the Rohingya were bitterly and unceremoniously forced from the security that the modern nation-state brings, they were thrown into a situation that deprived them of legal and institutional support, channels through which they could make their voices heard, and means of expressing their grievances. While still protected as refugees under international law, their statelessness renders them an international liability–no state wants to be responsible for the stateless people. Pervasive anti-immigrant sentiment makes integration wishful thinking, and casts those escaping outright annihilation as outsiders, or more insidiously, threats to national security and societal cohesion that cannot be allowed to remain and settle. This pattern of thought replicates like a virus in social discourse worldwide, stomping out any semblance of nuance and corroding policy approaches. 

For those caught in the web of statelessness, unable to return and barred from integration, Kutupalong becomes their whole world. The camp is its own socioeconomic system enabled by its shaky permanence and the inactions of the powers presiding over it. The lack of international action, the hesitance of the Bangladeshi government, and worsening conditions in Myanmar mean that Kutupalong ends up a permanent home to many. In this way, the temporary stretches into forever. What does it mean to become permanent, to fade into the background, to become forgotten in the collective memory of the world? Must this be the fate of the Rohingya?

The conditions in Kutupalong are not unique–they are an archetype found across many refugee camps throughout the world. 22% of the world’s refugee population resides in some sort of camp. Dadaab Complex, in Eastern Kenya, hosts refugees from the various conflicts in Sudan, South Sudan, Somalia, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ethiopia, and Eritrea, among others. The camp has similarly faced issues with hunger, sickness, and access to resources. Images of the sprawling Za’atari refugee camp in Jordan galvanized the world in the mid-2010s, the fallout of the Syrian Civil War and the campaign against ISIS across the Middle East and North Africa. These camps similarly became long-lasting as the conflict in the Middle East stretched on. Refugee camps in years past faced similar issues of overcrowding, starvation, and uneasy permanence, most notably in Thailand, which housed refugees fleeing the Vietnam War and other violence in Southeast Asia in the 1970s and 1980s at Ban Vinai. Refugee camps have been a persistent issue for the international system, and show no signs of going away.

Refugee camps are usually administered by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHRC) and the host country; these parties are legally liable for the camp’s inhabitants when their countries of origin have forsaken them. Yet, the protection of international law can be fleeting on the uneven, shaky ground of camps like Kutupalong. National policy towards refugees is often reluctant because of local anti-immigrant sentiment; for instance, the Rohingya are viewed as illegal or economic migrants among many in Bangladesh, a frustration fed by the strains on the Bangladeshi government because of the refugee crisis. The fierce nationalism at the core of many nation-states fosters exclusion, opposes integration, and impedes long-term policy goals. Because of this, national policy towards refugees can sometimes be punitive, and they are prevented from further integrating through starting businesses or gaining stable employment. States are often reluctant to enforce international laws that are under their jurisdiction under the 1967 Refugee Protocol. A national government’s aversion to their international responsibilities further reinforces the alienation that many refugees experience from local institutions and their legal and human rights. A lack of civic education, trauma stemming from conflict, and differing cultural values and identities can make international law and human rights akin to alien technology for those who need it most. International law becomes an abstract set of rules written in a language the refugees cannot understand; it is not written to work for them. 

However, with the right understanding of their legal rights and how to access them, international law can be an empowering and liberating force in refugee camps. As found in Ghanaian refugee camps for Liberian refugees in the early 2000s, educating refugees about their rights and how to use them allowed them to advocate for their needs, address protests, and even start elections within the camps. This showcases the true potential of international law: it allows people to “claim injustice, inspire unity, and manage fear.” Giving refugees these pathways out of disenfranchisement and towards empowerment reframes the narrative of refugees–they are no longer tragic yet passive objects of suffering, or pariahs to be feared. We can instead understand refugees to be people with agentic power, with rights and intrinsic value, who are determined to keep their culture and identity alive, motivated by cultural memory and a deep, abiding willpower. As climate change, global instability, and the growing ease of migration create more international refugees, the way we think of and address refugees must be increasingly scrutinized. While international law needs to be strengthened and improved to address new and old refugee crises, existing international law can still be an effective tool for refugees today. Moreover, a new understanding of refugees gives them greater power in the global imagination and helps to reconstruct superannuated policy and reductive narratives around refugees. 

Large-scale change in refugee policy is imperative in today’s world. The 1967 Refugee Protocol is painfully outdated: it is overly constricting and does not account for new phenomena like climate refugees. The bureaucratic labyrinth that refugees find themselves in when dealing with organizations like the UNHCR prevents effective action and further alienates refugees from the institutions that could help them. Many Western countries attempt to circumvent the responsibility of the asylum system by preventing asylum claims in the first place. In its place, a refugee convention that holds host countries more accountable and streamlines the process for refugees through reduced paperwork and more clear education and definitions is important in treating refugees with dignity and appropriately addressing crises. Greater resources must be allocated towards host countries like Bangladesh, who struggle with capacity, in order to improve the conditions within camps. This would allow camps to provide improved and timely healthcare, education, and mental health services. Moreover, oversight and accountability are necessary to ensure that host countries are abiding by UN regulations on refugee camp density and health requirements. Most of all, we must strengthen the civic education and legal pathways, so human rights become truly inalienable and universal, voices for the voiceless, and not just privileges for those who were born lucky. Through this, the world can help many escape the shadow of statelessness and ultimately step into the light.

On Skepticism Surrounding the Asian Way of Peace

Knowing peace as a concept is no less difficult that knowing peace as a human being. Throughout various historical, cultural, and analytical contexts, the concept of “peace” has accumulated many different definitions, often measured against the antithetical concept of “conflict.” In order to make sense of the so-called “Asian Peace,” let us first attempt to make sense of peace from the perspective of Eastern philosophical tradition, before differentiating peace into “positive” or “negative” varieties. 

In the Asian context, a profound cultural emphasis on peace endures. Soft imagery such as that of wind and water are prevalent through Eastern philosophical canon. The Daodejing of Laozi, the ancient classic that serves as the foundational text of Daoism, is rife with water metaphors, helping to popularize the practice of Daoism as The Watercourse Way. The Way of Laozi is one where virtue lies in peaceful means, not through strength of arms. The ways of life preached by Confucius and Mo Zi likewise emphasize that peace is mankind’s ultimate mission (Barash and Webel 6). Confucianism upholds harmony through stable hierarchy as the means of achieving lasting peace, whereas Mohism preaches a universal love for all (6). While Eastern philosophy also holds bravery in battle and strength in encounters with violence as virtues in high regard, the way of peace remains a commanding narrative in Asian culture. In the modern day, the People’s Republic of China has sought to characterize its regime as one that follows the way of peace, hence favoring messaging that portrays a “peaceful rise” to power. Chairman Xi Jinping insisted that, “The love of peace is in the DNA of the Chinese people.” These attitudes attempt to paint a picture wherein Asia simply has an ingrained affinity for peace, a commitment formed by thousands of years of philosophical meditation. Under this narrative, the recent decades' absence of war in the region of East Asia seems like the fruits of an exceptional way of peace. 

The so-called Asian Peace, marked by a rapid decline in battle-related deaths and the absence of new interstate wars since 1979, is far more complicated than the imagined monolith of a peace-loving Asia finally realizing its philosophical principles. While the shortcomings of the Asian Peace rightfully deserve to undergo scrutiny, this article will also examine whether the onslaught of criticism directed at the Asian Peace is wholly fair, or if skeptics are overzealous in pursuit of defending U.S. hegemony at the expense of dismissing positive effects on human security. That said, the limitations of the Asian Way of Peace are manifold. For one, the Asian Peace only really encompasses East Asia, excluding India, for example, due to the Kargil War with Pakistan. Some have even called it the ASEAN Way, narrowing down the geography further to Southeast Asia. Many remain critical of peace in East Asia as founded upon political and civil repression in order to achieve economic growth. This argument often upholds positive peace, where human freedoms flourish, as the kind worth celebrating, whereas negative peace merely refers to the absence of war.  Coined by 20th century French philosopher Raymond Aron, the term negative peace mostly operates as the complement to conflict; one well-known example of a robust negative peace is the Pax Romana, which the Roman empire maintained through force and subjugation of enemies (Barash and Webel 7). On the other hand, positive peace, most fully explored by Johan Galtung’s writings on structural violence, refers to the absence of barriers to human well-being and potential to succeed (7). With the exceptions of Mongolia, Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan, most modern East Asian countries fail to earn a “free” score according to Freedom House’s most recent data set. Lack of access to political representation and denial of civil liberties are clear examples of structural barriers to free participation in society. Still, even without the distinction between positive and negative peace, East Asia has not been without tumult and conflict. The Senkaku or Diaoyu islands remain in dispute between Japan and China, the South China Sea experiences periodic disturbances, and Taiwan maintains de facto independence to the PRC’s great displeasure. The Korean Peninsula is locked in a frozen armistice. The Rohingya minority in Myanmar faces genocide amidst the ongoing civil war. The Philippines continues to grapple with insurgencies, separatist movements, and religious strife. The Asian Peace is not all that peaceful, and yet, in both relative and absolute terms, the region has far and away defied the predictions made under realism in the post-Cold War order. 

Rather than devolving into violent conflict to settle an uncertain balance of power, East Asian states have chosen cooperation with one another in the majority of cases, which has resulted in relative restraint when conflicting interests do arise. One explanation is that the great power contest between China and the U.S-Japan alliance replaced Cold War bipolarity, while other realist explanations emphasize the importance of ASEAN and its partners as a type of security arrangement. Increasingly, research around Asian Peace has revolved around the question of U.S. global hegemony and China’s rise to the position of regional hegemon. However, this focus does not align with the view that ASEAN is the epicenter of the Asian Peace. In fact, some research suggests that U.S. hegemony is not at all correlated with regional East Asian security, and is even negatively correlated with the security of U.S. allies. The ASEAN Way of Peace viewpoint relegates China to a more minor role in the community of nations committed to no war, conflict avoidance, and face-saving measures. The ASEAN Way also finds favor in liberal thinking, the school of thought that believes economic interdependence between ASEAN members and dialogue partners allows them to prioritize business pursuits above territorial ones. This explanation more fully accounts for the northeast region managing to get along, which tends to have chillier relations than the warmer community in the southeast. China and Japan, for example, have relations commonly described as “hot economics, cold politics.” Most scholars, including those that call for a constructivist assessment of the Asian Peace, conclude that the phenomenon cannot be attributed to any one cause. Over time, attention from both researchers and policy makers has become more focused on the interactions China has with the “neighborly community” it currently finds itself enmeshed in. 

A constructivist reading of the security structures and liberal economic interests is also an important lens through which to consider the ramifications of cultural violence in the region. Cultural violence refers to the norms and attitudes about violence reinforced by the dominant societal discourses (Barash and Webel 7). Cultural violence normalizes, legitimizes, and may even celebrate the use of force. Structural and cultural violence are intimately entwined and usually reinforce one another. Together they can result in a negative peace, whereby people may suffer from censorship, limits on assembly, lack of representation, and stifled economic opportunity, but have come to accept the narratives that there are no ways to change the system for the better. Cultural violence in Asia contrasts with the culture of peace that seems evident with a cursory glance at Asian philosophy. However, it is important to note that “structural” and “cultural” violence are not wholly uncontested concepts, and this may contribute to philosophical discrepancies. For example, peace and conflict literature is unclear whether all forms of hierarchy commit some form of structural violence, and whether norms particular to one culture or another can be considered violence (Barash and Webel 8). For understanding the Asian Peace this presents particular problems, especially given the great importance afforded to hierarchy as the mechanism for social harmony under Confucianism. It is therefore important to keep in mind that these peace and conflict concepts were largely formulated with Western philosophical traditions in mind, and that grafting them onto the Asian context is not uncontroversial. 

At the same time, given the rather slow development of political and civil freedoms in East Asia, there is some valid anxiety about democratic backsliding undoing any progress at all. Economic disruptions are a key source of vulnerability to autocracy. Between the fallout from COVID-19, supply chain disruptions exacerbated by conflict elsewhere, and trade wars between the U.S. and China, should economic conditions worsen in the region, there is a limited likelihood of a positive sort of peace ever emerging. There is even some speculation about the possibility of an “East Asian Spring,” echoing the emergence of violent protests in the Middle East as a response to repression in the early 2010s. From this point of view, it is only a matter of time before the Asian Peace erupts into violent dissatisfaction. In the U.S., this kind of discourse supports the prediction that China is bound to spoil the seeming calm on the surface. The popular consensus reached in Washington is often peace through deterrence and domination. The U.S. likes to take a lot of credit for the peace in East Asia, and while it's true that alliances in the region and normalization of relations with China have helped to stabilize the situation, there is also an argument to be made that the U.S. is the most likely party to be the spoiler, not China. This is connected to the argument that world domination by the U.S., a Pax Americana, is not a path to sustainable peace, much less a positive one. For example, many U.S.-based policy makers assume it is a foregone conclusion that China is bound to invade Taiwan and therefore call for heightened security measures, whereas the Taiwanese themselves do not see a military response as a viable solution. The U.S. attempts to enforce a worldview where peace can only be maintained by fear of American military might, even though fear is neither an ingredient in positive peace nor a sustainable foundation for peaceful communities. The U.S. has grown more defensive over Taiwan in proclaiming its love for democracy. For all the U.S. maintains a poor track record in installing democratic polities, it is true of both Taiwan and South Korea that they managed to transition from authoritarian regimes under martial law to societies that enjoy high levels of political and civil freedom. These transformations took place with relatively limited bloodshed, and they happened in spite of the U.S. originally backing the authoritarian governments it had helped bring to power. Although, some might insist that seeking U.S. approval eventually helped create the conditions for democratization. If we take democracy as a prerequisite for anything resembling a positive peace, then it is important to note that these transformations took place in the context of an emerging regional norm of negative peace. Negative peace is an unskippable step towards the loftier goals of positive peace and should not be treated as a failure in and of itself. 

So why is there so little hope for the rest of East Asia to democratize and work towards a more positive peace? Fears about China’s rise typically play a role, but so too does American antagonism. Washington tends to focus on China as a threat meant to be contained rather than focusing on how to create conditions favorable to continuing the peace in East Asia. East Asian countries are under pressure from the U.S. to choose sides, but choosing sides is something that’s done in anticipation of a conflict context, not in a community committed to peace. The U.S.’s affinity for a conflict-oriented approach is unsurprising, given the culture of war that permeates American society. A look at U.S. history reveals that war is the mechanism of community-building in the American context; the Civil War was the trigger point for the disjointed states to become the singular United States. The creation of the American identity came to hinge on violent contexts throughout the 20th century wars as well. Addressing American cultural violence does not detract from the fact that China today inherently commits structural violence against its people by virtue of being an authoritarian dictatorship. There is a real risk of the East Asian peace disappearing under the stressors of this rivalry, but assuming the worst outcomes is defeatist. Peace is worth fighting to maintain, and the examples of South Korea and Taiwan suggest that there is precedent in the Asian context for positive peace to emerge without devastating revolution or protracted armed conflict. 

Maybe China really could adhere to the principles of a peaceful Asia and make a peaceful rise up the global hierarchy. As it stands, realism is the most common lens applied to make predictions about the fate of Asian security, which imbues a deep cynicism about great power rivalry between the U.S. and China. Without a doubt, China’s rhetoric about peace needs to be taken with a grain of salt, but so too do the narratives discounting the power of peace, negative though it may be. For one, critics often characterize Chinese messaging about regional harmony and cooperation as evidence that, like the U.S., the PRC has decided it is time to ask their neighbors to choose sides, that they are dissuading other countries from seeking recourse in international law for grievances, and that they are creating the conditions for regionalism with themselves at the helm. China’s peace rhetoric is dismissed as a means of weeding out U.S. influence, both as a regional player and as the de facto leader of global institutions such as the International Court and the World Bank. Moreover, ASEAN’s preference for informal approaches to security rather than formal arrangements is taken as evidence that East Asia is distancing itself from the global security framework that the U.S. commands. Proponents of realism frame these situations in narratives that envision inevitable conflict between the rising power and the waning one. This worldview draws sides in a conflict that has yet to fully manifest, if it ever will. From this perspective, China’s rise carries the implicit threat of America’s downfall. The peaceful or potentially violent means of China’s choosing are relatively irrelevant to these fears of a shifting world order. 

Some might say that the U.S. has a greater interest in maintaining its own hegemony than it does in promoting sustainable peace around the globe. A more charitable reading is one that suggests the U.S. simply has not learned yet that its primacy is no longer a guarantor of peace in the long term. The U.S. has a habit of equating its own brand of democracy with peace, and any alternative to that formula is a clear threat. On balance, however, the U.S model of positive peace is less than exemplary. Setting aside the various oversea projects that have exacerbated conflict, America itself is a violent place: mass incarceration, poverty, high maternal death rates, systemic racism, mass shootings, and barriers to healthcare and education are only a few examples of ways America exhibits both direct and structural violence within its own borders. In fairness, China does not lose out to its seeming rival in the realm of rampant violence; in addition to the political repression mentioned earlier, domestic and sexual abuse remains widespread, as does restriction of LGBTQ+ rights. Moreover, crackdowns in Hong Kong, Tibet, and Xinjiang are worryingly restrictive and violent. Perhaps there’s something to be said, to the credit of the realist point of view, that those at the top of the global hierarchy do not become hegemon through pacifism and a righteous commitment to positive peace. However, skepticism should be more-even handed; dismissing the prospect of an enduring Asian Peace out of fear of China runs the risk of turning a blind eye to the damage done by the United States in its tenure at the top. Worse, this runs the risk of refusing to believe better, more peaceful outcomes are possible. Positive peace is an ideal, much like the concept of a more perfect union, but when we start to imagine a more perfect world order, it cannot begin by accepting the inevitability of conflict. 

Barash, David P., and Charles Webel. Peace and Conflict Studies. SAGE Publications, Inc., 2022. 

Propagate By Poison: The Landscape of China's Rural-Urban Dichotomy

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For thousands of years, the agrarian heartlands were the very heartbeat of Chinese civilization. Writing years before the establishment of the first imperial dynasty and long before the industrialization of China, reformer Shang Yang deduced that harnessing the plow was the path to harnessing power in the context of the tumultuous Warring States era. His recommendation of “emphasizing agriculture and restraining business” to the Qin state passed down through the subsequent dynasties. Though Shang Yang’s reforms were a boon to Qin productivity, state wealth, and facilitated the establishment of the first Chinese empire, modern China has chosen to address its current challenges with a different approach. While the contrast between agriculture and business remains intact, the growing chasm between the rural and urban worlds may have more negative political ramifications than positive ones in the current Chinese political economy. 

Today, the People’s Republic of China’s wealth and power can be found concentrated on the coasts, which have rapidly developed since the 1978 implementation of an “open door policy” ushered in a frenzy of technology absorption and economic entwinement with the world market, marked especially by special economic zone development. Around this time, prevailing perceptions in China conceived the rural sector and the developed, urbanized one as rather disjointed, with economists and policymakers at the forefront of the Coastal Development Strategy envisioning an increased interdependence between the two spheres. The last phase within this roughly 20 to 30 year plan prescribed a leveraging of the wealth derived from industry to develop the agricultural inland areas. 

More than 30 years have gone by since this framework was first introduced, and the integration of urban and rural prosperity leaves much to be desired. Income inequality, disparity in education opportunities, and stark differences in market participation show the huge gaps that persist between the urban and rural worlds of the same nation. This sharp contrast is due largely in part to the Hukou system, a policy set by the central government under Mao in 1958, which local governments possess the authority to enforce today. Under this system, citizens must register their birthplace as their permanent residence and can only change this registration by obtaining a special permit. Local governments set numerous bureaucratic hurdles for would-be migrants to jump over in order to control demographics and human capital. Given that the typical direction of migration in China is from poorer, rural areas to wealthier, urban ones, newcomers to the metropolises have an especially onerous time obtaining permits, and therefore frequently find themselves barred from accessing public social support services and stalled in their quest for upward mobility. As a result, the polarization between urbanites and country-dwellers persists. 

Sowing Division Under Maoist Socialism 

Mao Zedong, a so-called son of the soil, led his army of peasants to victory against the Chinese Nationalist Party and ushered in an age of “Socialist Serfdom.” On an ideological level, Maoism is grounded in the quest for equality, in the destruction of the hierarchical feudal ways and days of old. In reality, the disenfranchisement of Chinese rustics is in many cases firmly rooted in Mao-era policies. As with many other facets of modern Chinese society, stepping out of the shadow cast by Chairman Mao’s legacy poses a serious challenge to untangling the political, economic, and social aggravations of this fissure. 

From the very beginning of the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) rule, cities have been an exceptional pressure point on regime stability. For most of the Chinese Civil War, cities stayed loyal to the Chinese Nationalist Party, and before that, were largely beholden to foreign interests and exploitation. The CCP desperately needed to grab the reins of these hotspots of crime and dissension, and they perceived the influx of post-civil war migration as a key source of destabilization. Hence, while the immediate aftermath of the war saw the pattern of urban migration that one might expect in the wake of major upheaval, the CCP began to devote serious time and effort to taming both the urban and rural populations- typically by offering the former a carrot and the latter a stick. For example, the countryside was negatively affected by the implementation of the Unified Purchase and Unified Sale system in 1953 by the state setting the price at which it would buy the mandated quota of crops, which naturally came under market value. The government then distributed the purchased food in urban centers, lowering the cost of living there and thereby necessitating more stringent migration policies. Consequently, the hukou system came into effect in 1958, granting governments the power to control people’s movements. 

 The government promptly began to exercise its newfound powers by recruiting millions to work in the factories meant to fuel the Great Leap Forward. This leap landed with a faceplant, and tens of millions of workers were deported back to the countryside, where tens of millions of people subsequently starved to death. The consequences of this were not only that migration to cities became even more difficult, but also that rural areas were increasingly left to fend for themselves. Depressed by unemployment and all the social ills that entails, rural regions were mandated by Mao to dust themselves off and get to building infrastructure that would boost agricultural production. That surplus, of course, would be handed over to the government at cheap prices to then be exported overseas in order to fund industrial development. The Mao era undoubtedly exhibited urban bias, a bias which persists today. Back then, as is largely the case now, urbanites enjoyed many more public goods and social services than their rural counterparts, such as education, maternity leave, pensions, medical care, and housing assistance. Moreover, the welfare provided to urban residents was in no small part funded by the labor of farmworkers, as by some estimates, the practice of buying agricultural goods at low prices resulted in the government transferring around 534 billion yuan away from the rural sector between 1955 and 1985. 

It might be curious that for all the CCP is anxious about discontentment breeding regime instability and achieving social harmony, their long-held practice of neglecting the well-being of the rustics continues to drive a wedge in between the urban and rural populaces. But this is not without consequences; dissatisfaction on both sides has long driven protests and government insecurity, perhaps hinting at an overall pattern of poison from within. 

Seedlings of Social Unrest

So what about the reform era? Surely, the government after Mao’s death saw some improvement in the lives of farmers. And indeed, while fiscal policy did raise the price at which the government purchased agricultural goods, thereby benefiting rural areas, the government quickly caved to pressure from urbanites, who sought to maintain their relative advantages. As was the case under Mao, the CCP feared the political repercussions of disgruntled city-dwellers and thus resumed the pattern whereby urban citizens cowed the government into maintaining their higher standards of living. 

Even when the government chose to respond to political unrest with military action, such as in 1989 when inflation racked the urban cost of living to the point of protest, the follow-up included amendments to the economic policies in order to quell urban discontent. Furthermore, although the reform period is known for walking back the controlled economy model, pressure for urban protections led to fund transfers to subsidize struggling state-owned enterprises. 

For all that the reform period championed economic growth, the government considered it worthwhile to sacrifice economic efficiency in order to ensure regime stability. At the same time, the CCP greatly relies on its ability to deliver on economic outcomes in order to keep the peace. By centering the economic heart of China in urban centers, and devoting significant resources to keeping that heart beating, even at the expense of rural reforms, the government has trapped itself in an unsustainable cycle. With every turn of this cycle, the second-class status of rural citizens becomes more entrenched.

To better compare, consider the CCP response to rural outcry. In the 2000s, the government continued to take over land for urban development with an explicit lack of regard for local input, and these protests were punctuated with a 2010 demand to end the Hukou system. At the time, Premier Wen Jiabao had alluded to the possibility of dismantling the system, but when the government had to respond to the clamor by suppressing circulation of these sentiments, he quickly changed his messaging to suggest more moderate changes. 

Herein lies the tension between social stability and economic improvements. To some degree, the economy is an ever-growing vine attached to the tree of Chinese societal harmony. The vine enhances the outward vibrancy of the tree, bestowing a majestic weight, and to remove the vine would peel off the protective bark with it. And yet, cultivating the vine has allowed it to grow beyond the tree’s control, consuming the life force of its host. 

This Season’s Harvest 

While the economic risks the CCP continues to run by not addressing the growing gulf between rural and urban residents are surely troubling, it is important to acknowledge that the divisions Hukou creates have a human impact on real people’s hopes and dreams and happiness. Where someone lives and what industry they work in is part of a much greater story about what they call home. 

The families of those migrants who attempt to make it in the metropolises despite their rural Hukou status are left behind on one side of the river while their loved ones desperately try to swim across. This has led to the phenomena of “left behind children,” a vulnerable group of youths who are emotionally, mentally, and academically delayed while their parents attempt to escape rural poverty. As an earlier section mentioned Socialist Serfdom, whereby Chinese society under Mao saw the systematic treatment of rural residents as the underclass, it appears this lowest class has split off into an additional caste, made up of migrants. While they do not have the same privileges as urban Hukou holders, they do have access to the amenities of city living and in general enjoy higher standards of living compared to the countryside. This comes at the cost of the families they leave behind, as Hukou restrictions limit access to both childcare and quality education. It is estimated that 1 in 5 children in China are “Left Behind,” unable to see one or more of their parents for most of the year.  

On the flipside of this, the fallout from the Covid pandemic and the subsequent rise in youth unemployment saw numerous remarks made in the spring of this year regarding a push to return China’s youths to the countryside. Are we seeing the start of a new wave of “rustication”? President Xi has recently encouraged young professionals to focus on reenergizing rural areas, to convert their urban-bred talents into countryside innovation. The idea seems to have had a decent reception, with reports by the Chinese government of increased migration to rural parts leading to improved agricultural production and higher quality rural tourism. Social media has likely played a role in idealizing farm life, an Asian counterpart to the popular cottagecore aesthetic. However, the idyllic pastoral life is not at all like influencers portray, which the young rusticated urbanites soon discover. The comforts and economic opportunities of the city still hold considerable sway over someone’s choice of where to live, especially if that person is born with an urban Hukou and thus has greater options available. These accounts make it difficult to believe at face value CCP messaging about the great enthusiasm the youth supposedly have for rural life and reads more like an attempt to preempt social turmoil brought on by idle, disillusioned young people. The government’s decision to stop reporting the rate of youth unemployment altogether makes the whole narrative even more suspect. 

This sense of disillusionment is growing stronger especially in the housing market, which like many aspects of the Chinese economy is an incoming crisis of the government’s own making. The housing market remains a sector under immense government oversight if not outright control, and the current issues it poses is in no small part linked to the Hukou system. Hukou is an instrument with which the government can control demand, and this leads to neglect of the supply side. Moreover, poor property tax systems render them an inadequate means of adjusting housing prices. And of course, in spite of the difficulties the government sets in citizens’ ways, the advantages of living in a city are still much greater in many cases than the difficulties. Decades of urban bias have built myriad social services, and even for those migrants who do not have the urban Hukou status to take full advantage of welfare, having some benefits is better than none. Although, because of the aforementioned informal caste system, migrants tend to be relegated to renting, which comes with significantly fewer benefits than home ownership. Home ownership is made even more valuable by the fact that it often dictates who gets priority to send their children to the best schools. Sometimes, even the length of time a person has resided in a school district can give them the upper hand in admissions. 

In essence, the urban populace has been pitted against one another to fight for limited housing, but the government has made housing so necessary to access the full benefits of being an urban resident that demand climbs even as the fight becomes more fatiguing. The Hukou system ostensibly seeks to curb the demand, but in fact it only aggravates these various points of contention.

The housing crisis is a symptom of the Hukou system failing both Chinese citizens and the Chinese government. But while the former would likely be better off with the abolition of the system, the latter clings to any means of controlling its people. Some have suggested that the government simply does not know how to bring Hukou to an end without sparking an upheaval that would threaten the very stability it is trying to maintain, while others speculate that this is a sign of local governments flouting central government recommendations. Perhaps it is instead correct, if radical, to say that the system of Chinese government itself is unsustainable, constantly locked in desperate need to bolster prosperity and keep a leash on the beast it scrambles to feed.   

  With this understanding, the urban-rural divide is clearly antithetical to the themes of social harmony and cohesion that the CCP supposedly desires. And yet, to stay in power the CCP has had to exacerbate this divide time and again or risk its grip on power. It seems that this contrast is useful neither for economic efficiency nor for stability, and yet without it those goals could not stay afloat. There is a Chinese saying that warns not to drink poison to slake one’s thirst. The poison here is the polarization between the urban and rural worlds, while the Chinese government thirsts for authority and economic strength. 

Heavy Metal Harvest: Impacts of Heavy Metal Soil Contamination on the Food and Health in China

nytimes.com

In ancient Chinese literature, one of the oldest and most influential pieces of divination text is the I Ching, or Book of Changes. It features the story of Shennong, the first Yan Emperor and the “Divine Husbandman”, who taught the Chinese people agriculture:

“When Pao Hsi’s clan was gone, there sprang up the clan of the Divine Husbandman. He split a piece of wood for a plowshare and bent a piece of wood for the plow handle, and taught the whole world the advantage of laying open the earth with a plow.”

- I Ching, Book II: The Material

It is likely the Divine Husbandman believed China would continue to use his knowledge to cultivate the land indefinitely. Thousands of years later, however, it is beginning to look like this will not be the case. Heavy metal soil contamination, caused mostly by industrial activity, means that the percentage of arable land in China is decreasing. This is increasing health risks of consuming crops grown in this poisonous soil and threatening the stability of the food chain as 

The origins of soil contamination

Before the 20th century, China was a completely agrarian society. However, the creation of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 under the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) spurred a new age of industrialization within the country. Development of the country came in several phases. Communist leader Mao Zedong ushered in the first phase with the first Five Year Plan (1953-57), the goal of which was to increase industrial production and output. The subsequent phase, called the Great Leap Forward (1958-1950), intended to continue advancement of industry within China. However, due to imbalances between industrial and agricultural growth and inflexibility of leadership, this plan was largely a failure. In fact, it caused the largest man made famine in history, killing an estimated 45 million people. 

In the 1960s the second Five-Year Plan was able to recover some of the devastation of the preceding years, but it wasn’t until Mao Zedong’s death and new leadership was assumed within the CCP that the country completely made up for their losses. Beginning in 1978, the Chinese Communist Party reformed their economic policy. The CCP targeted deficiencies and imbalances in production, with the goal of growing exports. Unlike previously, however, this time was met with success. For about the next 30 years, China’s economy would grow about 10% each year, bringing with it a whole slew of environmental issues. 

The uninterrupted expansion of China’s economy has since winded down, but the environmental impacts of that period of unchecked growth have not. One of the most pressing consequences of this has been heavy metal contamination of soil. Heavy metals are naturally present in soil in small quantities, however, certain human activities can introduce higher than normal levels into the soil. In 2013, the Ministry of Environmental Protection produced a book stating that one-sixth of China’s arable land - nearly 50 million acres - was polluted with dangerous metals like arsenic, cadmium, and nickel. This caused nationwide panic as the government had always kept information on the state of the environment tightly under wraps, leaving most people unaware of the true scale of pollution. But these “state secrets” were finally starting to reveal themselves and the true extent of heavy metal contamination was beginning to be uncovered.

Food chain dilemmas

China’s per capita land area is less than half of the world average, meaning that it cannot afford to lose any of that valuable property to pollution. So far, China has been able to utilize this small fraction of the world’ arable land to feed nearly 20% of the world’s population. The country produces ¼ of the world’s grain, reaching a 686.53 million ton output in 2022. In addition, it is the top global producer of cereals, fruit, vegetables, fishery products, meat, poultry, and eggs.  However, over the last two decades, China has begun to rely more and more on food imports, indicating that they are no longer able to produce a sufficient harvest to support their population. 

Heavy metal soil contamination is known to decrease productivity of cropland. Excess heavy metal in the soil is taken up into plants through their roots, accumulating and causing damage. They decrease seed germination, root elongation, plant biomass, and chlorophyll biosynthesis. 

In 2000, China’s food self-sufficiency ratio was at 93.6 percent. In 2022, it was 65.8 percent. The ratio is predicted to decrease about 10% more by 2030, largely in part to reduction of safely cultivable land. Still in the shadow of the famine caused by the Great Leap Forward, China cannot afford another food security crisis. Recent events have already begun to unveil how sensitive China is to food distribution disruptions. Supply chain disruptions during the COVID-19 pandemic caused food shortages and frantic appeals from people starving under lockdown. More recently, the Russian war on Ukraine has again demonstrated China’s food instability. Ukraine is one of the largest corn exporting countries, and China is its biggest buyer. Ukrainian grain production suffered a heavy blow due to the Russia-Ukraine, and China was not left undisturbed by this. 

Health risks and “cancer villages”

A 2022 study found the main sources of soil heavy metal pollution in China to be metal mining and smelting, industrial activities, power generation, agricultural activities (e.g. utilization of fertilizer and animal manure), waste disposal, urban development, and transportation. Certain areas of the country constitute heavy metal contamination levels greater than others. Hunan Province in central China, for example, has some of the worst soil in the nation. This is mainly due to the area being a top provider of nonferrous metals. Byproducts associated with production of these metals, including industrial and mining wastewater, as well as dust released during mining and smelting, lead to toxic levels of heavy metals into the soil. This has severe implications as nonferrous metals are not the only major contribution of the region. Hunan Province also makes up around 15% of China’s rice production. In 2021, the region produced 26.83 million metric tons of rice. Grain samples collected and tested for heavy metals from various locations around China revealed that rice originating in Hunan Province contained the highest levels of cadmium and lead. In addition, several other provinces were discovered to have grain samples that contained greater than acceptable levels of multiple heavy metals. 

One could imagine the implications of crops being grown in such poisonous soil. Crop production does decrease from heavy metal contamination, but the plants that do survive will contain a dangerous accumulation to toxins. Humans who then consume these plants are exposed to their effects. For example, cadmium is a probable human carcinogen that also causes kidney disease and weakened bone structure after long periods of exposure. When ingested, it causes stomach irritation, vomiting, and diarrhea. Another example, lead, is a probable human carcinogen and that can accumulate over time, wreaking havoc on the body. It is especially detrimental to young children, causing brain and nervous system damage, learning disabilities, delayed growth and development, and hearing and speech problems. For both lead and cadmium poisoning, there are no cures, with the only available option being to manage symptoms as they arise. Other heavy metals cause similarly disastrous effects. 

Many studies done in China have suggested higher health risks associated with heavy metal soil pollution in China. Some of the most pressing evidence comes from the so-called “cancer villages”. Various sources claim that there are around 400-500 different cancer villages in China, which are locations in which an unusually high level of cancer cases are recorded, most likely having to do with environmental problems. These villages first started appearing in the 1980s, which coincides with the time when the Chinese Communist Party revamped their economic policy and industrialization really began to take off. The Chinese government has admitted to the existence of these villages, but has continued to keep information about them shielded from the public. A 2015 study attempted to use the limited available data on these villages to create a map of their locations. They concluded that cancer villages tended to cluster around major rivers and their tributaries, almost always densely populated and near industry facilities. In addition, the researchers noted that the highest levels of cancer morbidity came from grain producing regions in China. Hunan Province was one such region where the densest locations of cancer villages were found. 

Current efforts and future actions

In February of 2015, the documentary “Under the Dome” went viral in China, revealing shocking portrayals of soil contamination, as well as air and water pollution, within the country. Within one month the Chinese government blocked access to the film. This extreme censorship makes it very difficult to gauge the levels of heavy metal soil contamination in China, let alone solve it. Despite this, it seems like the government is beginning to understand the severity of soil contamination within the country. In 2019, the Chinese government declared a “farmland redline” policy stating that China’s total arable land should never fall below 120 million hectares. In February of 2022, the government announced the first national soil survey in 40 years. The survey will take more than four years to complete, but when finished it should give the country a better understanding of what they are dealing with.

The future of China’s soil in the face of heavy metal soil contamination is largely unknown. We do not know for sure whether the country will fully commit to their pledge of reversing the damage caused by industrialization and heavy agriculture. It remains to be seen whether Shennong, the Father of Agriculture’s, legacy will remain within the soils of China.

The United States and China: A Cyclical Relationship, Both Backwards and Beyond

nytimes.com

The relationship between China and the United States is akin to a circle. Tensions rise, are broken, and rise again. It is a pattern that has continued for decades; the divide between the countries is palpable. But the United States and China are more alike than reported. The countries are fundamentally similar in economic and military policies; China’s problems are ours. Examining U.S.-China relationship history and investigating and addressing these issues is the key to mending the U.S.-China relationship and fixing cardinal issues in the modern United States.

When asked about China, Americans report undoubtedly strong opinions. A poll concerning the global superpower found that 67% of Americans have negative opinions of China. Even more striking, 89% of Americans now classify China as a competitor or an enemy. When asked, “What’s the first thing you think about when you think of China?”, responses overwhelmingly leaned towards human rights and the economy (each issue making up 20% and 19% of responses, respectively). With only 15% of U.S. citizens viewing it favorably, it is time to re-examine U.S.-China tensions to repair future relations.

These numbers do not manifest from thin air. They are a cumulation of decades of nervous tension between the United States and China, leading to prominent unease among U.S. citizens. The two countries have endured a rocky relationship since the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949. Soon after, hostility rose during North Korea’s 1950 invasion of South Korea, when U.S. troops aiding South Korea approached the Chinese border. Although the United Nations, China, and North Korea signed an armistice agreement in 1953, this strain initiated a long pattern of U.S.-China tension. 

By 1964, the stress went nuclear. In October of that year, China conducted its first atomic bomb test. The test exacerbated the already tense U.S.-Sino relationship amid conflict in Vietnam. Relationships improved after China and Russia’s Sino-Soviet split, with Beijing mending connections and cordiality with the United States. President Richard Nixon visited China in 1972, signing the Shanghai Communiqué, a document representing the first official diplomatic communications between the countries. Presidents Carter and Reagan continued the pattern of diplomacy through the 1980’s, maintaining a cooperative relationship with China. For almost twenty years, the U.S.-China relationship thrived. 

Unfortunately, peace was not enduring. In 1989, after military troops killed hundreds of student protestors during Beijing’s Tiananmen Square Massacre, the United States immediately froze relations with China, suspending the only recently approved sale of U.S. military equipment to Beijing. It was not until 1993, when President Bill Clinton propelled a policy of “constructive engagement” with China, that unease began to lift. By 1996, the capitals agreed to exchange diplomatic officials again, and in 2001, President Clinton signed the U.S.-China Relations Act that gave Beijing permanent trade relations with the United States. Once again, peace fractured in 2005. An American reconnaissance plane made an emergency landing on Chinese territory after colliding with a Chinese fighter. The U.S. crew members were detained on Hainan Island for twelve days. Only after a tense standoff did Chinese authorities release the American detainees. China experienced a significant leadership turnover in 2012, with approximately 70% of leadership body members replaced after the new election. It was also the year Xi Jinping assumed power as President, delivering speeches promising a “rejuvenation” of China. This turnover was shortly followed by President Obama’s 2013 effort to ease U.S.-China relations. He hosted President Xi for a California summit where the executives established a “new model” of relations. This presidential friendliness stuck around after the 2016 election. In 2017, President Trump hosted President Xi for a meeting to build relations and promised “tremendous progress.” Progress, however, did not last.

Throughout 2018 and 2019, tariffs on Chinese imports enforced by the Trump administration hit China hard. The Chinese government fights back with tariffs of its own, fanning the flames of a U.S.-China trade war. Although tensions eased after President Trump and Chinese Vice Premier Liu He signed the “Phase One” trade deal in January 2020, they quickly seized again several months later during the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic. Both administrations blamed the other for their mishandling of the disaster. For the remainder of the Trump administration, this anger remains. Shortly after he took office, President Biden stressed the need for U.S. infrastructure to compete with China, maintaining Trump-era ideologies. After Russian-related disagreements sparked further tension, Presidents Biden and Xi eventually sought relationship repair in November of 2022. Speaking at the Bali G20 summit, the leaders expressed their wishes to alleviate hostility.

When this history is analyzed, a pattern emerges: China and the United States butt heads over an infraction on the part of the other. A new U.S. President is elected, who tries to ease tensions and foster a healthy diplomatic relationship with China. An inciting incident (i.e., the expulsion of American journalists or the spotting of a potential spy balloon) severs that friendliness, and tensions rise again. Each country demonstrates power and influence by implementing trade tariffs and making threats. And the cycle repeats itself. 

Documenting a clear pattern of behavior allows everyday citizens and politicians alike to analyze relations and make predictions accordingly. However, it makes for an easy trap to fall into, time and time again. If conflict is viewed as inevitable, that defeatist attitude will permeate international relations and allow tension to be viewed as the natural outcome. In recent headlines, an alleged “spy balloon” originating from China was shot down in U.S. airspace in February of 2023. It contained what U.S. officials defined as intel-gathering equipment, which the Chinese government vehemently denied, describing as a civilian meteorological airship. Regardless of the specifics, this incident indicates newfound strain, with more to come. Once again, we see the pattern emerge. In order for the pattern to be broken, the cycle needs to be stopped in its tracks. 

The key to stopping the cycle is analyzing the United States and China differently. We must ditch the old analysis model and replace it with a novel system: parallels. Instead of focusing on the rise and fall of strained relations, key similarities must be examined. Unsurprisingly, U.S.-China differences are highlighted more predominantly than their likenesses. After almost eight decades of frosty relations, the United States and China seem like separate entities. But maintaining that distinction only worsens the long-standing tension. Simultaneously, it will only exacerbate problems within the United States in the long run. Relationship difficulties should not be an “us vs. them” approach. It hasn’t worked in all these decades; there’s no reason to believe it will work in the future. The focus needs to be on collaboration after matching problems are identified.

 In 2007, China announced a military budget increase of 18%, continuing China’s increasing military expenditures and bringing their total spending allowance to 62.14 billion USD. This aligned with the United State’s budget increase at the time. By 2007, the U.S.’s military budget had expanded to 589.59 billion dollars, a 269.5 billion increase from 2000. In 2023, the United States' military budget sits at 800.67 billion USD, while China boasts one the largest military budgets worldwide at 224 billion USD. In addition to military spending, the economies of the United States and China share a prominent global role. As of 2023, they hold the top two spots by gross domestic product (GDP). These economies, primarily centered around military spending, hold significant weight worldwide. China and the United States are uniquely positioned in that they hold major international influence. They reflect each other’s values, but this reflective relationship is not represented in United States media despite these crucial similarities. Additionally, on September 28th, 2023, The Seattle Times posted an article detailing China’s recent property crisis. It outlines how developers are hurting as apartment sales dwindle. Real estate stocks are plummeting, and house hunting is difficult. Conditions are similar in the United States. Real estate prices are skyrocketing, and becoming a homeowner is less feasible than ever. These economic problems in each country mirror each other. Acknowledging similarities such as these breaks the cycle that builds and protracts the us-them mentality. When the problems are examined, it becomes a matter of “us vs. them” problems.

There is a fear, however, surrounding that acknowledgment. A fear of the countries being “alike.” This fear is built off of the “us vs. them” mentality that, to this day, dominates United States coverage of China. Decades of U.S. communism placed into historical context explain this. Communism is a hot-button topic in the United States. Post World War 2, a “Red Scare,” or fear of a communist threat, plagued the United States, aligning with the ongoing Cold War with the then Soviet Union. As hysteria over a USSR takeover grew, communism became synonymous with “un-American.” Communist fear has been hammered into U.S. culture for over a century. Now consider the fact that the People’s Republic of China has been a communist regime since its founding in 1949. It makes sense that to Americans, acknowledging that the United States and China share fundamental problems is akin to anti-patriotism. To admit the countries share those issues is to admit they are fundamentally similar. And when China is identified with communism, that threatens the American paradigm. 

This fear exacerbates the cyclical relationship and will kill any hope for future long-term civility. Right now, relations between the United States and China seem uncertain. On October 10th, Newsweek reported that Chinese vessels entered territorial waters surrounding Japanese-controlled islands. Any attack on these islands (or any Japanese government assets) would require the United States to respond and aid Japan, launching troops against China. Where is there to go from here? Perhaps the cycle of tear and repair will continue. But perhaps not. It is up to everyone, from politicians to the layman alike, to make this change. Acknowledging the similar plights the countries face is the key to creating a long-term, sustainable relationship that works for all parties. But that is, ultimately, up to each country’s leadership. Let’s hope they make the right choice.

Indonesian Democracy Under Threat

journalofdemocracy.org

Indonesia represents one of the few functioning democracies in Southeast Asia. While its neighbors have languished under military rule, with little representation in government, Indonesia has built a sturdy democratic system that serves its citizens better than it hurts them. According to Freedom House, elections are free and fair, with alleged irregularities in the recent 2019 election being dismissed by the country’s top court. The elections themselves are competitive, with multiple parties representing a variety of interests running in elections and receiving votes in the national parliament. A free and independent press has flourished under a relaxed set of regulations, allowing proper scrutiny of the government and access to high-quality information. While there have been reports of intimidation of journalists, the country has largely allowed for a free press, much to the benefit of the country’s democracy. Peaceful protests have been allowed, albeit with limited outbreaks of violence leading to the use of force by security forces. This was exemplified in 2019, as protesters rallied against new government policy.  Simultaneously, the country faces several challenges, including rampant corruption from businesses, an underrepresentation of minorities in government, excess military involvement in politics, and a judiciary too prone to making decisions informed by religious beliefs.

However, as this paper will argue, the biggest challenge facing Indonesian democracy is that of its reckless President Joko Widodo. While initially a marker of continuous democratic elections with his election in 2014 and reelection in 2019, he has shown himself to be incredibly power hungry, pushing for electoral reform that would allow him to seek a third term as President. This is specifically barred by the constitution and would represent a massive setback in the country’s democracy.  As such This paper will argue that Joko Widodo represents the biggest threat to Indonesian democracy and should be barred from seeking a third term. Though he has been a monumental force for the country, pushing through massive investment in infrastructure, serving to bolster the country’s economy and making it a regional power, his power-craven ambitions have stained his legacy, and more concerningly, threaten to upend a flawed, yet massive democracy.

Indonesian sovereignty, like much of the developing world, was born out of a long history of colonial rule and exploitation. The British and Dutch arrived in the 16th century, establishing trading ports, and representing colonial expansion into Southeast Asia. The Dutch then obtained full control over the region, suppressing the local population, often brutally. Fraught relations between the colonizers and colonized people of Indonesia sparked frequent rebellion throughout the course of Dutch rule, particularly on the island of Java. The outbreak of World War II served to upend Dutch control of the region. While initially falling under the occupation of the Japanese as they moved to conquer Asia, their loss in the war prompted calls for formal independence from the Dutch. The rich ethnic diversity of Indonesia that had long divided the island along ethnic lines united in their opposition to colonial control and advocated for their freedom. Under mounting international pressure, the Dutch chose to relinquish control of the island, giving the island it’s freedom for the first time in nearly 400 years.  

In the aftermath of World War II, Sukarno emerged as the country’s leader, inciting nationalist rhetoric that inspired the islands people to resist Dutch attempts to reestablish their control. As such, he was proclaimed President in 1945. Democratic aspirations were strengthened when the constitution was drafted that same year, establishing a formal separation of powers between the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government. This mirrored other major democracies and inspired hope for a free Indonesia. However, this hope dwindled as the years progressed. Sukrarno, a once democrat that united the various ethnic groups of Indonesia, slowly evolved into an authoritarian, working to consolidate power in the executive branch and aligned himself with Islamist forces as well as the military. Despite term limits being imposed by a Constitution Sukarno helped to draft, he held office for more than 22 years. Sukrarno resisted calls for parliamentary elections until 10 years after the country’s constitution had been written. In 1955, when election finally occurred, split results amongst voters for the parliament gave way for Sukarno to dissolve parliament, further concentrating the power of the Presidency. This furthered popular disapproval of Sukrano’s rule, and delegitimized the democracy he had promised to his people. However, his main challenge came from an alliance he had bounded between a host of opposing forces. The main two factions he had aligned himself with were the Communist Party of Indonesia, or PKI, and the military, both of whom felt threatened by the other. Increasing Sukarno allegiances with the PKI threatened the military’s power, causing an attempted coup in 1965. With Sukarno’s power weakened, he ceded power to General Suharto, who let the armed forces. Under his rule, he undertook an anti-communist purge, which was aimed at rooting out all communist presence in Indonesia. 

During the purge, it’s estimated that between 500,000 and 1,000,000 people were killed, in a horribly brutal display of authoritarian force. Under Suharto’s rule, opposition parties were delegitimized in elections, with the army playing a pivotal role in all forms of government. Backed by the United States, Suharto made Indonesia a hub for foreign direct investment, which led to increased urbanization and modernization of the country’s economy. While political representation was stifled and limited, Indonesians remained supportive of Suharto because of the economic prosperity that occurred over the course of his rule. However, his tenure was indeed marred by the brutality of opposition parties and figures, as well as increased military involvement in the political system, as well as heavy corruption from outside business interests. The 1997 Asian financial crisis brought Indonesia’s spiraling economic growth to a halt, and forced Suharto to leave power after 32 years as President.  In the aftermath of the Suharto presidency, a number of Constitutional reforms were undertaken, aimed at increasing the separations of power between the three branches of government. It cemented regular elections with term limited presidents into the constitution. It also increased regional autonomy throughout the country, which was virtually non-existent under the dictatorships of the 20th century. Following the 1998 reforms, regular elections commenced in 2004, and have occurred every 5 years since then. Though the system has been critiqued for a lack of representation of minorities and persistent corruption from outside forces, the system has guaranteed electoral rights to hundreds of millions and have facilitated regular competitive elections, both of which are informed by a free press. Economic prosperity over the same democratic period has flourished, serving to further legitimize the political system.

In 2014, the country elected Joko Widodo, who has been the country’s longest serving President in the democratic period. He ran for and won re-election in 2019, with his fresh five-year term due to be up in 2024. However, Widodo has expressed interest in extended his term past the constitutionally mandated period of two five-year terms, culminating in a 10-year term in office if fulfilled, as Widodo is likely to do. There has been discussion amongst political leaders of either delaying the scheduled 2024 election or removing the two-year term limit in the constitution. Either scenario is equally as dangerous for Indonesian democracy. What is more concerning is that the idea is being propagated by political leaders other than Widodo and has tentative support from the Indonesian population given Widodo’s popularity. The rationale given for such a dramatic move is economic – the country wanned under the COVID-19 pandemic and Widodo is viewed as the best person to lead the recovery effort. Democracy has already stagnated under Widodo – the military has increased their role in politics, reminiscent of past dictatorial trends, and individual freedoms have been limited via legislation he has signed into law, such as giving the military more power in his government and drastically limiting the freedoms of the LGBTQIA+ community. Allowing Widodo to seek a third term in office sets a dangerous precedent in a country with a deep authoritarian past. Increasing their dependency on Widodo only furthers his grip on the political system, and could legitimize him to seek further years of the Presidency. Others in his circle have also raised the idea of having the legislature elect the President in the future, rolling back a key tenant of the 1998 reforms that allowed the populace to directly vote for the executive. Widodo has overseen a country that has backslid massively and has the chance to further erode its democracy should he try to extend his term.

In conclusion, Widodo’s efforts to lengthen his stay in office follow a string of actions that have weakened Indonesian democracy. He must be barred from seeking a third term if the country is to stay free.

The Pandemic's Effects on Educational Disparities Between Mongolia's Rural and Urban Students

COVID-19 has resculpted the global landscape of education, resulting in devastating learning loss that widened the gap between disadvantaged students and their peers. By exacerbating inequities around the world, the pandemic has spurred teachers and policymakers everywhere to rethink education. While various organizations attempt to make collective statements about the pandemic’s effects on the international education as a whole, invaluable information can be gained by using a more singular lens to approach the issue of COVID-19’s impact as it relates to a particular country’s education system. As the world’s most sparsely populated independent country and one whose pandemic response has been largely successful, Mongolia makes for an interesting focus point upon which the pandemic’s effects on education can be examined. Surprisingly, there are few reports exploring the ways in which Mongolian schools have been challenged by and interacted with the pandemic. In this report, I aim to explore how the pandemic affected Mongolia and what inferences can be made regarding the pandemic’s effects on Mongolian education.

Mongolia and the Pandemic

March 9, 2022 marks two years since Mongolia first came in contact with the coronavirus through a French national working in the country. From this moment on, the nation has been grappling with serious questions regarding how to best shape government policy to combat the pandemic and keep people safe. Even before the virus found its way into Mongolia, the government had been on high alert. This trend can be seen as early as January 10, 2020, when the Mongolian government issued its first public advisory, aimed at urging all Mongolians to wear a mask. This was soon followed by the closing of borders to its neighbor China with whom Mongolia shares the longest land border. The transportation restriction meant no Chinese citizen or person traveling from China could enter Mongolia. Through the implementation of its early response to the pandemic, Mongolia had managed to entirely evade any COVID-19 deaths until December 30, 2020. The Mongolian government’s determination to rapidly implement high-impact COVID-19 prevention policies stemmed not only from concerns over its shared border with China, but also from insecurity regarding the country’s health infrastructure. “Here’s the thing: we don’t actually have a great public health system,” explained Davaadorj Rendoo, an epidemiologist at the National Center for Public Health in Mongolia’s capital and largest city Ulaanbaatar. “That’s why our administrators were so afraid of COVID-19.”

As of April 2022, the number of active COVID-19 cases in Mongolia has dropped below 1,000 for the first time since late 2020. With the number of daily infections declining and the percentage of fully vaccinated people exceeding 65%, things seem to be looking up for the Mongolian people. However, while pandemic-related policies in Mongolia seem to have enabled the country to evade overwhelming fatalities, the pandemic has inflicted serious damage to the Mongolian education system. Since all schools were closed on January 27, 2020 to combat the spread of COVID-19 among students, the education system has been forced to undergo significant, unprecedented changes. These changes disproportionately affected Mongolia’s most vulnerable students living in remote areas with limited internet access and electricity. Even in Mongolia’s most populous cities like Ulaanbaatar, the immediate switch to remote learning has left no student unscathed. While UNICEF estimates that schoolchildren across the globe have lost over 1.8 trillion hours of in-person learning due to the pandemic, it is difficult to precisely conclude how much learning loss the students of Mongolia have experienced. Data is still being collected, and the pandemic has not yet been eradicated. 

Mongolian Education: Pre-Pandemic

In order to gain a better understanding of the pandemic’s effects on education in Mongolia, it is important to be acquainted with the pre-pandemic state of Mongolian schools. Mongolia’s 2018 Multiple Indicator Cluster Survey provides valuable insight into the strengths and weaknesses of the Mongolian education system before the pandemic. Developed by UNICEF, the Multiple Indicator Cluster Surveys (MICS) program is the largest household survey on women and children worldwide. Its purpose has been “to assist countries in filling data gaps on children’s and women’s health statuses.” Mongolia’s 2018 MICS fortifies the argument that rural/urban educational inequity has existed in Mongolia before the pandemic, opening the doors to explore how the pandemic has interacted with that inequity. According to the report, 58.2% of rural children aged 36-59 months were attending early childhood education institutes. Compared to the 81.4% of urban children, it is evident that living in urban Mongolia comes with a higher likelihood of obtaining access to early childhood education, which has been proven to lower risks of school dropout and contribute to higher learning and employment outcomes later in life. Additionally, having access to early childhood education means that a child’s caregiver can participate in the workforce, which is key to “breaking stubborn cycles of intergenerational poverty.” Early childhood education inequity explains why higher education inequity also exists in Mongolia. According to UNESCO’s Global Education Monitoring Report, 53% of 18-22 year olds living in urban Mongolia attend higher education institutes. Compared to the 15% in rural Mongolia, it goes without saying that Mongolia’s “regional variation in poverty” contributes to wealth disparities between rural and urban regions of the country.

Turning back to the 2018 MICS, it can be observed that 4.3% of male urban schoolchildren of lower secondary school age were out of school in 2018 compared to the 8.1% of male rural schoolchildren. However, there are still some nuances to be explored, considering more female urban schoolchildren are out of school than rural female schoolchildren. This is a point upon which I would advise further research to identify what causes female urban schoolchildren to leave school and what incentivizes female rural schoolchildren to remain in school much longer than their male peers. Despite women in Mongolia being better educated than men, a gendered hierarchy still exists in which men are likely to be paid more than women in Mongolia. 

Looking beyond lower secondary school students and onto upper secondary school students, the urban/rural gap in school attendance expands. While only 7.5% of urban upper secondary students were out of school during the year of 2018, the percentage jumps to 25.9% for Mongolia’s rural upper secondary students. This can be explained by the disproportionate lack of support faced by rural students; urban students exceeded rural students in every “Support for Child Learning at School” category in the 2018 MICS— “percentage of children attending school,” “percentage of children for whom an adult household member in the last year received a report card for the child,” “school has a governing body open to parents,” “an adult household member attended a meeting called by governing body,” “a school meeting discussed key education/financial issues,” “an adult household member attended a school celebration or sports event,” and “an adult household member met with teachers to discuss child’s progress.” In the context of the social determinants of learning framework, these factors have the potential to contribute highly to student achievement but are disproportionately denied to rural students. It is important to remember that this is not due to an inferiority on behalf of rural Mongolian parents or a superiority on behalf of urban Mongolian parents. Considering that they are more likely to face poverty than their urban counterparts, rural families are more likely to work more frequently in order to support their children. This means that there is not always time for rural parents and caretakers to meet with teachers and attend school meetings or events. Additionally, schools increase parent involvement—and thus student success—by building community. While developments like Mongolia’s Rural Education and Development program have contributed significantly to tightening the gap between rural and urban schools, the inequity still remains, likely posing the reason as to why rural schools may lack the resources to engage rural families living in poverty. 

The Pandemic and Mongolian Schools

Mongolia’s 2020 MICS offers insight into how the pandemic has interacted with the increasingly urbanized country and its schools. The report’s information on early childhood education offers interesting doors through which more research could be conducted, specifically on the disparity between children of Khalkh ethnicity and children of Kazakh ethnicity. The report also found interesting data on rural school children outperforming city students in foundational numeracy skills in 2020. However, when it comes to information and communications technology (ICT) skills, urban students outperform rural students overwhelmingly. An observation is made in the report that ICT skill acquisition is “hugely influenced” by wealth quintiles. The ICT skills examined in this report include but are not limited to sending an email with an attached file, transferring a file between a computer and another device, creating an electronic presentation using presentation software, connecting and installing a new device, and using a copy and paste tool within a document. In our increasingly digitized world, the importance of ICT skills for students cannot be underestimated. Considering this, it is evident that rural students have faced more barriers throughout online learning than urban students. This is supported by Sodnomdarjaa Munkhbat’s comment to Friedrich-Ebert Stiftung Mongolia. As the Director of the Science and Technology Department at the Mongolian Ministry of Education, Culture and Science, she said, “School children were taught through classes broadcasted on TV and universities used remote learning technology. Both had to be developed and implanted on extremely short notice which put a lot of stress on teachers, professors, and students. TV classes were especially challenging.” 

The 2020 MICS also found that parents’ engagement in ger districts of Ulaanbaatar was 10 percentage points lower than those living in apartments. The study concluded that “the low rate of engagement is also common in rural area[s] and especially in [the] Western region.” When looking at the data on parental homework help, the report found parents with certain qualities were more likely to offer their child homework assistance; these qualities include having obtained a higher education, not having migrated within the last 5 years, and having attended a public school. This offers an explanation as to why in the 2018 MICS, similar findings on lack of support for rural students were identified. This information lends itself to the acknowledgement that, in order to achieve educational equity between rural and urban students, the Mongolian education system must work to enhance resources for students whose parents have not obtained a higher education.

Although the 2020 MICS offers little insight into the pandemic itself, popular Mongolian news sources like Зууны мэдээ (Zuunii medee) supplement this deficit with their article on textbook availability. “The education sector has collapsed due to the pandemic,” journalist Ch. Gantulga wrote mournfully. Gantulga points to a lack of textbook availability as a huge problem facing Mongolia during the pandemic. D. Delgermaa, a middle school teacher, told Gantulga, “I am in charge of the seventh grade. Our class has 31 children. Due to the small number of textbooks distributed by the school, only one book is used by three children. In particular, there are not enough books on Mongolian language and social sciences. Some potential families buy textbooks for their children…Some students have problems with not being able to read e-books because they do not have smartphones. If these children have enough textbooks, there will be no problem.” Put in the context of the wealth disparities between rural and urban students previously established, it is evident that more needs to be done by the Ministry of Education, Culture, and Science to repair the learning losses exacerbated not only by the pandemic but also by lack of school resources. This sentiment does not seem to have been lost on Munkhbat, who said to FES Mongolia, “The pandemic made it very clear that the education system must be ready and responsive to high risk situations. What happened this year can happen any time again. Our way forward will be to enhance online education particularly for the higher education sector. This will be embedded in the government’s strategy of a ‘digital transformation.’” While a digital transformation is likely highly anticipated by students in Mongolia, the data leaves us with an understanding that, in addition to education as a whole, digital literacy instruction is not equitably distributed to all students in Mongolia. It will be important, moving forward, for Mongolia to put adequate resources toward building all students’ ICT skills, paying special attention to rural students.

Having analyzed the state of Mongolian education before and after the pandemic, it is evident that the pre-pandemic challenges faced by rural students have been exacerbated by COVID-19. These challenges are an extension of the poverty faced disproportionately by rural Mongolians. The disparity in school attendance between rural and urban students highlights the presence of class barriers in Mongolia. These inequities may stem from disproportionate access to early education, which has been proven to result in higher learning and employment outcomes later in life. The ways in which the pandemic has exacerbated educational inequity in Mongolia is important to analyze, considering its impact may materialize as a generation divided unequally by their level of access to education. This may be seen in the construction and perpetuation of intergenerational poverty for Mongolians who were in school during the COVID-19 pandemic. Mongolia’s Ministry of Education, Culture, and Science has the ability to change this by financing high-quality schools in rural regions of the country, implementing poverty-reduction policies for rural families so that students are not incentivized to choose work over school, ensuring school resources are equitably distributed, implementing educational policies that focus on honing the digital literacy skills of rural youth, and further analyzing the ways in which the pandemic has differently shaped educational outcomes for rural and urban students.

North Korea’s Illicit Money Machine

Background: Brief History of North Korea

Following World War II, the international order was divided over the ideological governance styles and practices of democratic capitalism and communism. Particularly, the U.S. a capitalist state wanted to promote democracy and capitalism globally, whereas the Soviet Union sought a communist world order. Although the U.S. and USSR were in a strategic competition for global dominance, they never once formally engaged in a hot or live war with one another. However, throughout the Cold War, the U.S. and the USSR fought combatively via proxy conflicts. Among the very first of these proxy engagements was the Korean War. After WWII, the Korean Peninsula, which was once a unified nation, had been divided into a communist northern state known as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), and a democratic, capitalist, southern state, the Republic of Korea (ROK). During the war, China sent two million soldiers along with the Soviet Union’s logistical support to aid the DPRK, whereas the ROK was primarily reinforced by the U.S. In June of 1950, due in part to the influence of the PRC and the USSR, the DPRK crossed the border and invaded its southern neighbor, intending to establish a unified communist Korean nation. The Korean War, which lasted three years, saw horrific casualties and fatalities on all sides. Ultimately, upon the signing of the Korean Armistice Agreement, the war concluded, and a demilitarized zone was established between the North and South along the 38th Parallel. After the war, North Korea followed a far different trajectory than the Republic of Korea. Whereas the South experienced significant economic growth, the North was beginning to shield itself from the outside world, creating a “hermit kingdom” according to professor Mitchell Lerner of The Ohio State University, among many other experts.

 North Koreas Acquisition of Nuclear Weapons:

Beginning in the 1950s, Kim Il-Sung repeatedly emphasized the imperativeness of a ballistic and nuclear weapons program for the DPRK, as it would prevent North Korea from lagging too far behind the South. However, since 1950, the DPRK has been significantly impacted by severe U.S. and international sanctions for human rights abuses and failures to comply with international laws. Furthermore, the U.S. in addition to many Western countries has recently levied strict sanctions against the DPRK for cyber-crime offenses. Under the harsh leadership of North Korea’s first ruler, Kim Il-Sung, the DPRK actively sought methods of securing funding for a ballistic and nuclear missile program. Specifically, the DPRK frequently employs various illicit methods to circumvent the tight sanctions placed by the international community. Ultimately, the DPRK, according to many experts, wants nothing more than to ensure its continued existence and that of the Kim dynasty. Fast forward to 1984, and under Kim Il-Sung, North Korea test-fired its very first missile. Undoubtedly the employment of nuclear and conventional weapons was championed by not only Kim Il-Sung but his son Kim Jung-Il and grandson, Kim Jung-Un (KJU). However, of the three DPRK leaders, none have taken a greater interest in advancing the DPRK’s missile program than its current leader, KJU. Specifically, KJU has placed a great deal of emphasis on science, technology, engineering, and math as well as emerging technologies to advance the DPRK’s national agenda. The U.S. and the international community writ-large have condemned the DPRK’s military, scientific, and technological advancements and have issued strong sanctions against the North Korean government. 

North Korea’s Illicit Financing of its Missiles Program:

While the PRC, in violation of international sanctions, provides North Korea aid through cargo shipments, along with other measures, these means don’t outright provide the DPRK with enough capital to fully fund its desired missile program. Therefore, the DPRK utilizes several illicit activities to finance and grow its missile program. Particularly, the DPRK engages in the manufacturing and distribution of illegal narcotics manufacturing and the sale of counterfeit goods, trafficking arms globally, and producing and selling counterfeit currency. Yet, among the DPRK’s most recent lucrative financing activities for its missile program, has been its global hacking and malware campaign. Last year it was reported that the DPRK had stolen nearly $400 million worth of digitized assets from seven different attacks on various cryptocurrency platforms.  This is a significant development and should raise serious concern among states globally. According to some North Korean and national security experts, the DPRK likely goes after cryptocurrency as it is far less regulated than other forms of hard-copy currency, and thus it is easier to manipulate and bypass foreign sanctions. A recent United Nations investigation also determined that North Korea has stolen and continues to steal cryptocurrency to further finance its missile program. Yet, this all goes without stating the obvious, the DPRK is strictly prohibited by the UN from testing ballistic and nuclear missiles, let alone developing them. To be clear, it is not as if, the international community is “out to get the DPRK”, and therefore is prohibiting their acquiring of ballistic and nuclear missiles. Thus, it is inconsequential if the DPRK finances its missile program through legal or illicit means, simply financing it, to begin with, is in violation of sanctions. The DPRK both through its rhetoric and actions has proven its desire and capability to use asymmetric weapons systems against the U.S., RoK, and U.S. interests globally. Although the western media frequently discusses the DPRK missile threat and covers each test closely, there is a legitimate reason for concern. 

The employment of sophisticated offensive cyber measures by the DPRK is hardly a new tactic. Most notably, upon the release of the Sony Pictures film “The Interview”, DPRK launched an intrusive cyber operation against the Sony Corporation, leaking highly sensitive personally identifiable information. As I mentioned previously, the DPRK is extremely isolated from the rest of the world, and its citizens do not have access to the internet. Thus, this begs the question of how the DPRK can launch successful cyber-operations against the rest of the world? According to some experts, while the DPRK has limited internet access in its capital of Pyongyang, the PRC is complicit in allowing DPRK cyber military operators to come across the border and utilize China to launch attacks on its various targets. As with assisting the DPRK in evading sanctions, the PRC is highly culpable in its assistance efforts with the DPRK in cyberspace. However, the PRC has its reservations, as it greatly fears that an unstable DPRK could flood millions of North Korean refugees into China, which China lacks the resources or infrastructure to support. Beyond hacking operations, the DPRK has long employed ransomware attacks to assist in funding its missile program. Specifically, the WannaCry attack in which the DPRK targeted computers and servers running Windows operating systems, ultimately demanding ransom payments in Bitcoin. For the DPRK its global cyber ransomware operations are highly lucrative. According to the U.S. Department of Justice (DoJ) between 2015-and, 2019 DPRK ransomware hackers attempted to steal roughly $1.2 million from banks in Vietnam, Bangladesh, Taiwan, Mexico, Malta, and Africa. Moreover, according to the WIRED, DPRK secured $80 million by “tricking” a network into re-routing funds. Additionally, the FBI recently reported that North Korea stole more than $600 million in cryptocurrency, from a single hacking operation. This is a critical development as it demonstrates that the DPRK is continuing to use hack and steal operations to generate significant revenue.

Recommendations

While the international community has levied strict sanctions against North Korea, the DPRK has consistently demonstrated its formidability in cyberspace as one of the preeminent state cyber threats that the U.S. faces. However, given the nature of where cyber operations occur, there is a strong likelihood that the U.S. has been effectively thwarting the DPRK in cyberspace, though the public will never know. Thus, it is difficult to evaluate how the U.S. is doing countering North Korea’s cyber threats and illicit financing campaigns. For example, when a bomb is dropped on a target, reporters can verify that. However, due to cyber operations taking place, mostly, outside of public view, little if any substantial reporting exists to confirm such activity. Yet, after the Sony hack, it has been reported that DPRK’s internet was cut, seemingly by the U.S. and its partners. Therefore, I would suggest that the DoJ, “name and shame”, the DPRK attackers, publicly indicting them on charges. Particularly, the process of openly outing hackers is critical as many enjoy life in the shadows and will stop once they have been caught red-handed and put in the public eye. Furthermore, I recommend that the Five Eye intelligence allies actively degrade and disrupt the operating networks and information systems affiliated with the DPRK attacks. Although such an aggressive maneuver may complicate relations with the PRC, the West must take greater action against the DPRK. Furthermore, Lastly, I would advise that the U.S. financial crimes enforcement network utilize targeted sanctions to freeze the DPRK’s financial assets and that of Worker’s Party members and high-ranking North Korean military officials. While the threat from the DPRK will not dissipate any time soon, the U.S. government, international partners, along with the private sector must continue to publicly discuss DPRK’s illicit financing, while actively thwarting such activities.

Drafted Into Abuse: The Experiences of Female Soldiers in North Korea’s Military

Notice: This paper includes discussions of sexual and gender-based violence.

Founded in 1948, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, better known as North Korea, is considered to be the last true Stalinist regime. Similar to other communist nations, such as the Soviet Union and China, North Korea prides itself on gender equality and freeing women from the responsibilities and social roles that held them back from fully supporting their country. In 1946, North Korea passed the Sex Equality Law, followed by a stipulation in Article 22 of the 1948 Constitution that “women in the D.P.R.K. are accorded equal rights with men in all spheres of government, political, economic, social and cultural activity. The state protects especially mothers and children.” Articles in the 1972 and 1990 Constitutions continued the trend with the statements that “women hold equal social status and rights with men” and of the country’s contribution to the creation of “various conditions for the advancement of women”, respectfully. For most of its existence, the North Korean government, and the Kim regime - Kim Il-Sung, Kim Jong-Il, and Kim Jong-Un - maintained a relatively stable society, with work requirements, food rations, and set salaries for all citizens. However, in the 1990s, North Korea fell into an economic crash and famine following the fall of the Soviet Union and subsequent loss of aid support. The hardships, better known as the Arduous March, went on to drastically change the role of women in North Korean society. During the famine, the government required citizens to continue working despite a lack of salary. Women were in a unique position in the labor force, as, unlike other communist nations, North Korea emphasized the role of mothers and recognized the role of the housewife as a valid alternative to state employment. The country began this acknowledgment of housewives and mothers near its founding, with the 1946 Labour Law prohibiting women and children from “toilsome or harmful labour”. As the nation continued to grow, the North Korean government never officially denounced the traditional Confucian hierarchies, particularly in reference to gender roles, providing many women the leeway to leave their state jobs to be housewives after marriage. The amount of women leaving the workforce after marriage had grown to over 60 percent by the mid-1980s. This supplied them with the freedom and time flexibility to pursue other opportunities to provide for their families as they were no longer expected to perform jobs in the traditional labor force. As more women pursued informal methods of income generation, a market economy known as the “jangmadang” was created and women quickly gained a unique social status as the primary breadwinners and caregivers of their households. Yet, this was not the case for all women in North Korea. Women in the military were denied the same status and opportunities, and while their responsibilities and roles have changed over the past thirty years, the change has not occurred parallel to the overall status change of women in the general population. While the economic and social positions of women in North Korea have changed over the past three decades through greater financial and social independence, those changes have not been mirrored within the military as enlisted women remain subjected to grueling and unequal tasks, poor sanitary conditions, and a mass culture of abuse and discrimination. 

Understanding the background of the issue is essential when approaching the roles of women in North Korea’s military. The relationship between women and the military can be broken into two major time periods; 1) prior to a reported mandatory service requirement in 2015 and 2) post the requirement. South Korea and internationally based news agencies first began reporting on the mandatory service requirement in January of 2015, however, the details of the exact policy remain ambiguous. One article, published by Daily North Korea, stated that the directive establishes military service as “mandatory for eligible women between the ages of 17 and 20,” with enlistment length lasting up to five or six years.  It must be noted, however, that reports surrounding the mandatory service requirement may not be entirely accurate due to the lack of clear sources or data, and it is possible that it is instead a highly encouraged enlisted policy, similar to what men in North Korea experienced throughout most of the country’s history. For the purposes of this analysis, attention will be paid to the policy in 2015 as a marker in shifting attitudes and expectations surrounding the military service of women. Prior to 2015, primary accounts - mostly from defectors - present that joining the military was viewed by women not as a duty to the country but as a way to rise up in social rank, as many of those in higher military positions were in a higher class or members of the Korean Workers’ Party. One defector, Lee So-Yeon, served in the military for about a decade and served as a signals specialist along the Demilitarized Zone. During an interview with The World, she stated her reason for joining was to “become a low-ranking member of the ruling party.” Even as women gained social and economic status due to the market economy, the country’s strict hierarchical order made it difficult to move between class levels. Additionally, during the famine in the 1990s, many who enlisted did so due to the appeal of a daily meal. For many, especially women, who had less pressure to enlist, joining the military could create a path to a better future. 

Following the reported mandatory service requirement in 2015, the number of women in the military unsurprisingly grew from an estimated 2.38% of the country’s total population in 2015 to an estimated 2.62% in 2018. According to South Korean news sources, women were now expected to serve from the age of eighteen or nineteen until they were twenty-three. This five-year service expectation is half of what is set for men, who are typically in the service for ten years. The change can be explained in part by the reported population decline in North Korea, which has contributed to a similar decline in military size. Enlisting in the military was now no longer a tool for increasing social status. Rather, it is now a responsibility. While women who care for family members or children face less pressure to join, many do not marry or have children until their late-20’s, due to the preexisting service expectations for men. As a result, there is less ability for women to pursue market opportunities or keep themselves out of the pressure of contributing to North Korea’s workforce and military.

Central to the experience of any soldier is the expected tasks and duties. For the women in North Korea’s military, these expectations varied heavily from that of male soldiers. After joining, women undergo training similar to that of their male counterparts. They reportedly have slightly shorter physical training regimens during the day. However, the overall daily schedule is relatively the same. In addition to the physical training demands, many women soldiers are also expected to perform the cooking and cleaning for their units. They are viewed as “ttukong unjeongsu” according to author Juliette Morillot, a term that directly translates to “cooking pot lid drivers” and references the traditional attitudes around the gender roles and responsibilities of women. The requirements end up being overwhelming to the soldiers, who have to juggle their training, position tasks, and domestic duties simultaneously. 

North Korea’s government has presented itself as a beacon of gender equality, the military being no exception. However, under that phrase is a culture of Confucian values creating social hierarchies. Women in the country are subject to inadequate sanitation and hygiene, an issue that is worse for those serving in the military. Primary to this is the issue of menstruation. North Korea’s society shuns the idea of periods, considering them impure and taboo to discuss, making it difficult for women to receive the care they need. Women outside of the military have access to jangmadang where they can purchase makeshift sanitary products. For example, some defectors described how women would oftentimes buy medical gauze to use as pads, cloths that could be washed and reused, old used clothing, or socks to use as pads. Those in the military, however, are cut off from the jangmadang and are forced instead to use military gauze or reused sanitary pads that could only be cleaned and reused during the night, when male soldiers were sleeping. As discussed, female soldiers are subject to the same intense physical regimens as their male counterparts, a requirement that limits their ability to swap out dirty hygiene products and stresses their body’s limits. Some recounts by defectors claim the complete loss of periods due to the physical training, stress, and inadequate nutrition - most troops, male and female, are reportedly provided bowls of rice and corn for meals, with meat and candies reserved for special occasions. Following the 2015 policy change, the Kim Regime announced it would start providing sanitary products to its female soldiers, however, little is known about the follow-through or the amount that was distributed.

The tasks of women in the military went beyond physical training, cooking, and cleaning. For a majority of North Korea’s history, one of the most prominent images of women in the military was of the Kippumjo, a “pleasure squad” of approximately 2,000 women and girls that provided entertainment for the Kim regime, high-ranking officials of the Workers’ Party of Korea, and distinguished guests. The squad was formed under Kim Il-Sung sometime in the 1970s and was reported to be disbanded in 2011 by Kim Jong-Un. It is also important to note that in 2015, news agencies began publishing articles that Kim Jong-Un was reestablishing the Kippumjo. During its active period, teenage girls, typically between the ages of 15 and 19 would be recruited by officers based on their height and appearance. One defector by the name of Mi Hyang claimed to have been a member of the Kippumjo. She recounted being conscripted while in high school when officers visited her school and was then trained for six months before beginning her service. Members of the special force received greater benefits than other women in military service. They were reportedly provided with new appliances and a stipend. Reported duties for the members of the Kippumjo varied from dancing and singing to massages to sexual favors. While the Kippumjo has reportedly been disbanded, the culture of gender discrimination within North Korea’s military has not.

Despite the lack of attention to female bodily autonomy and needs, North Korea maintains a hyper-feminized image of how women should appear and behave. This is highlighted by the intense beauty standards faced by women both within and outside of the military. For the general female population, the rise of the market economy and greater economic freedom has allowed for more expression in fashion. Since the 1990s, women’s fashion has evolved to embrace clothing reflective of the nation’s first lady, Ri Sol-Ju, with brighter colors, lace and sequins, and feminine cuts. It could be expected that this hyper feminization would not occur within the military, as women there would be expected to be equals to their male counterparts and focus on their tasks and position. Yet, women in the military are still expected to maintain appearances.  While the pleasure squadron, the Kippumjo, has been disbanded, female soldiers are expected to maintain basic aspects of their feminine image. In fact, when the Kim Regime released the state-sponsored cosmetics brand “Pyongyang Cosmetics Industry,” it distributed products to many female aviation units. In short, the country expected women to be capable of maintaining their feminine qualities despite their intense training, lack of sanitation, and domestic duties.

Arguably the harshest part of the experiences of women in North Korea’s military is the expansive sexual assault and rape culture. Despite a lack of exact numbers, reports from defectors have shown that rape and sexual assault are part of the norm for many female soldiers. Defectors would report that even if they themselves were not assaulted during their time in the army, they knew of many others who were. While Pyongyang claims that it does not tolerate any form of sexual assault towards its soldiers, cases are seldom pursued. Cases that are pursued are rarely found in favor of the victim, and many more are shunned into silence by a culture of shame. Some women are frightened into silence through threats to “block their chances of joining the party if they refuse or attempt to report the abuse.” Rhetoric is presented to blame victims and put the focus on women’s actions rather than on the violations by men. This creates a system of victim-blaming, one which takes the blame away from perpetrators and puts it on the female victims. Female soldiers are unable to receive care, on top of the already lacking menstrual hygiene and the pressure to keep quiet. Instead, they are forced to suffer in silence.

Despite sexual assault and harassment being common knowledge for women in the military, they are still forced to struggle on their own. In the case of sexual assault, victims are oftentimes on their own, as a culture of shame and victim-blaming is prevalent even among other female soldiers. Sexual assault is viewed as something to be expected and is normalized to the point that the country has established the idea that women must act in a certain way to avoid violence. The issue is so expansive that in order to avoid social blame, women are willing to undergo dangerous abortions. Especially in the military, where a pregnancy could ruin one’s social status and career, some soldiers use anthelmintic medicine, tighten their belts, or roll down hills to force miscarriages. If able to, some pursue illegal surgical abortions, with potentially life-threatening consequences. Sexual assault and rape also put them at risk for injury, sexual-transmitted illnesses, or post-traumatic stress disorder. Enlisted women are especially vulnerable to sexual violence due to the male-centric hierarchal nature of the military, with social values and limitations cutting them off from seeking comfort, medical care, or legal recourse, leaving them on their own to cope. 

Not only is the mental and physical health of the women in the military impacted by the tasks and discrimination that they face during their service, but their social roles and the country’s economy as a whole are also affected. Women outside of the traditional workforce were able to participate in the market economy during the 1990s, including women who were not tied up in the military operations that came as a response to natural disasters and flooding. As North Korea continues to work towards increasing its military capabilities despite a dwindling population, its focus on pressuring enlistment among women limits their ability to provide food for themselves and their families as well as to participate in the country’s now semi-legal and quasi-capitalist markets. Taking women out of the markets will eliminate the primary organizers and parties involved, potentially decreasing the strength of the country’s overall economy. Additionally, as women are pushed into the military, they will potentially lose the social statuses that they gained as a result of the jangmadang. Following the Arduous March, women had become the primary “breadwinners” for their households and also gained greater freedoms as divorce rates rose and extramarital affairs became less taboo. This status is inherently linked to the market economy, and if women are taken out of the equation, it is likely that both will reverse. 

As North Korea gains increased attention on the international stage, many look to its growing military capability and unique economic structure. North Korea’s military growth has involved technological developments in cyber, missile, and nuclear capabilities. Simultaneously, the country developed its market economy through the jangmadang. However, both of these involve one specific group, the women of North Korea. As the country attempts to balance its ambitions, declining population growth - from 1.54 percent in the 1980s to 0.49 percent in the 2010s - and diminishing military size - from an estimated 6.6 percent of the population in the 1980s to 5.2 percent -, it turned to women as the solution. Women had been part of the solution to famine and economic decline thirty years ago, as their unique social status allowed them to become the primary breadwinners and base of a new market economy during the Arduous March in the 1990s. Women currently make up an estimated 51.5 percent of the country’s population, yet, as previously stated, only 2.62 percent of women currently serve in the country’s military. As a result, the female population remains a largely untapped resource for military growth. From the 1990s onward, women managed to gain a higher social status and earn greater freedoms, even if those freedoms are not comparable to those of other nations. Despite these changes, the status of women within the North Korean military saw little movement. While the country’s campaign to increase female military enlisted, domestic responsibilities, lack of sanitary products, beauty standards, and sexual assault have continued to dominate their experiences. As North Korea pushes forward on its current path, it puts its economy at risk, as well as the status of its female population. The removal from the market economy and the cultural shame around traumatic gender-based experiences in favor of the stagnant military status threatens to dominate the experiences of women and force their social advances to regress.

How Should the U.S. React to the South China Sea Dispute?

What is the South China Sea Dispute?

The South China Sea dispute is one of the most significant and intense territorial disputes in the world today. It first emerged after World War II when China, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia seeked to occupy islands in the South China Sea. As decades passed, the dispute became increasingly complicated as more nations, including the U.S., and various complicated factors came into play.

There are two forms of disputes occurring in the South China Sea. The first dispute is over territory. Nations including China, Brunei, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Vietnam have territorial claims over various islands, rocks, and reefs around the South China Sea. The second dispute involves maritime boundaries. This dispute includes all territorial actors and Indonesia. The argument between these actors pertains to how to divide the sea itself. Each nation has different claims over different areas, and the major issue of the dispute is that these claims largely overlap with each other.

The South China Sea is seen as a valuable provider of a variety of resources. In 2015, the South China Sea has been accounted for 12% of the global fish catch, and home to more than half of the world's fishing vessels. These fisheries officially employ about 3.7 million people and many more unofficially. The South China Sea is estimated to be rich in oil and gas deposits as well, though there is no clear data on the matter. The area beneath the sea is potentially valuable, as it is an important energy supply corridor.

There are numerous territorial claims in the South China Sea. China and Vietnam have previously made and continue to make claims over the islands (including Scarborough, Paracels, and Spratly Islands) within the South China Sea, while Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, and Brunei have claims over the water surrounding the islands. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) does not abide by claims that violate the limits of a state's Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ). The EEZ states that 200 nautical miles from the shoreline is exclusive area for a country's economic utilization. Countries in their exclusive economic zones have "sovereign rights for the purpose of exploring and exploiting, conserving and managing the natural resources." Vietnam claims it has actively ruled over the Paracels and  Spratly Islands since the 17th Century. The Philippines claim sovereignty in the Scarborough Shoal (or Huangyan Island in China), which is located 100 miles from the Philippines and 500 miles from China. Malaysia and Brunei claim territory that falls within their EEZs, as defined by UNCLOS. Malaysia additionally claims a small number of islands in the Spratlys.

One of the most important things to keep in mind about the South China Sea dispute is that much of the argument is over rocks and reefs rather than legally defined islands under international law. If a rock or reef legally becomes an island, it means that it would have its own EEZ. In order for a rock to be classified as an island, it must be able to sustain human life on it to engage in economic activity. A reef does not belong to anyone because it belongs to the sea bed. However, if a state has rights to a seabed, it is able to manipulate the reefs. Since 2015, China has been dumping sand and cement on numerous reefs to create man-made military bases on islands, in order to expand their sovereignty further into the South China Sea. China uses the "cabbage" strategy to layer on "civilian, paramilitary, and military protection" amongst the islands. The "salami-slicing" tactic additionally pertains to China slowly gaining control over land, sea, and air space in the East and South China Seas.

In the past, there have been many incidents where fishing boats and ships of opposing nations have sunk each other. Most recently, a Chinese maritime surveillance vessel sank a Vietnamese fishing boat in March 2019. The fishing boat was sailing near the Paracel islands, which China has most control over, before the Chinese vessel pursued the fishing boat and shot at it with a water cannon. The fishing boat hit a rock and sank but the five fishermen were rescued by another Vietnamese fishing boat. The area in which the fishing boat sank is currently being disputed between China, Vietnam, and Taiwan, with each claiming that their sovereignty over the islands were violated by this incident. The cause of the incident is still not clear, with Vietnam claiming that the Chinese vessel rammed the boat.  

China Perspective

China's claims in the South China Sea are largely historical. China has created the nine dash line, which was taken from a 1947 map. The nine dash line represents what China believes should be the boundary of its territory, which essentially encompasses most of the South China Sea. The nine dash line largely overlaps with the claims of Vietnam, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Brunei. China's reasoning for the nine-dash line is that Chinese fishermen have been active in that area for centuries. China believes that its historical claim over the islands and sea was established before the implementation of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), despite having ratified it. Therefore, China has been exerting "constant diplomatic pressure to either revise international law or gain a special exception to it, where China's ancestral claims would be recognized by all."

The Century of Humiliation, lasting from 1842 to 1949, was a time in China's history when the country was exploited and overpowered by western nations. The strive to overcome a period of history that, to China, symbolizes their weakness, has made the nation more assertive in the South China Sea. This includes expanding naval capabilities and using the man-made islands to build military bases on as an strategic advantage.

China's narratives say that the US is seeking to contain China as a rising power. It opposes the U.S.'s naval presence in the area, one of the reasons being that it is encouraging the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) to stand its ground on their claims and their opposition of China. China firmly believes that third parties, including the U.S., should not be involved in the dispute because it does not directly concern them.

U.S. Perspective

The Obama Administration has previously stated that the U.S. has interest in the South China Sea and that nations should make claims on it as long as they abide by UNCLOS standards. The Obama Administration additionally made a commitment to "pivot" to Asia and strengthen allyship and security ties with ASEAN. It is an important "test of American leadership" to try to defend allies in the region amongst the growing aggression of China. The U.S. has stated that it will defend the Philippines in a potential clash against China; however, at the same time, the Philippines does not want to get dragged into a potential war between the U.S. and China. The U.S. rejects China's nine-dash line and its claims over the island, but because it does not have any interest in the islands, rocks, and reefs in the area, the U.S has verbally stood in a neutral position over the dispute. Currently, the Trump Administration doesn't seem to have a long-term strategy for the issue like Beijing does. Recent policies have tended to contradict each other, turning to isolationism because being the "policeman" of the world is too costly while simultaneously wanting a stronger military presence in the sea. As of now, there is no sense of direction due to conflicting statements.

On the other hand, the U.S. still seeks to patrol the sea because of its commitment to defending international law and the rights to sail freely within international waters. The South China Sea is also an important commercial trading route for the U.S. One of the US's strategies has been to promote Freedom of Navigation Operations (FONOP's) to reiterate the international law of the sea. This strategy, however, has been ineffective because it has intensely harshened China's salami-slicing or cabbage strategies instead of reducing them. The U.S. is in a tight spot because it doesn't want to further provoke China but at the same time does not want China to bully its allies. Because of this, the U.S. continues to patrol in the area.

What Should the U.S. Do?

The U.S. needs to act with a clear strategy in mind, because the South China Sea dispute will only evolve as time goes on. If the cards aren't played right, this dispute has the potential to turn into a full-fledged war. The U.S. needs to keep in mind that if it doesn't have a military presence in the South China Sea, then China will take advantage of it. If the U.S. shows that it is okay for China to make claims in an aggressive manner, China could be more likely to be aggressive in other territorial disputes such as Tibet.

On the other hand, how can the U.S's military presence in the region truly be justified? The U.S is not a direct player in the game, so increased patrolling of the sea (such as FONOPs) can make them look like an aggressor and will only allow for China to legitimize its militarization in the islands. The main mission of a FONOP is for the US to assert its power when it believes that other nations are restricting freedom of navigation and dismissing international law and norms. FONOPs are questionable because they have no real, detailed justification and sometimes are conducted by U.S. warships and bombers, which can make the operation look aggressive. There are also economic risks to consider, being that China is a significant trade partner to the U.S and the two states are currently engaged in a trade war. The U.S. can hold Beijing accountable by placing economic sanctions on trade and creating tighter restrictions on business between the two states, but this could also further provoke China.

In my opinion, it is in the best interest of the United States to keep its commitment to its partners and allies, such as the Philippines, Vietnam, and Indonesia. The U.S. must build up its maritime capacity building by providing equipment and support in sea surveillance and infrastructure support to coast guards. Additionally, the US should continue selling more military weapons to Taiwan or increase defense cooperation with India as an indirect way of helping. Helping allies in the region benefits nations to defend themselves against China's aggressiveness and helps balance the power rivalry. It is essential that the U.S. commits to multilateral institutions like ASEAN in the region to prevent a potential war with China. Whichever way the U.S. reacts, the aim should be to maintain peace within the region and promote negotiation, communication, and cooperation without interfering in a way that demonstrates aggression and western dominance.

Fake News in North Korea: Censorship, Propaganda, and the Rewriting of History

In the era of the Trump administration, ‘fake news’ has arisen as a significant concern. What is true? What is fake? These are questions that many Americans now ask of their government and media platforms. In the first amendment of the Constitution, free speech is guaranteed for all Americans. That right is expertly exercised by American citizens and often taken for granted.

On the other side of the matter lies North Korea, where free speech is outlawed and the state tightly controls all forms of media. Citizens of North Korea have virtually no freedom of speech: internet is only accessible by a select number of powerful individuals in Pyongyang, television and radios can only access North Korean-operated stations, and accessing foreign media is illegal and punishable by death or by imprisonment in political prison camps.

Beyond harsh media censorship, North Korea also engages in a constant rewriting of history, dictated by the Kim family and executed by government officials. The foundation for extreme censorship lies in the core North Korean ideology of Juche (“self-reliance”). Juche encourages complete national independence from the outside world, which includes the disregard of foreign media and the creation of a uniquely North Korean history. Ultimately, the intense censorship serves as a protection for the Kim family and their continued survival as dictators.

Article 3 of the North Korean Constitution defines Juche and the purpose it serves:

“The DPRK [Democratic People’s Republic of Korea] is guided in its activities by the Juche idea, a world outlook centered on people, a revolutionary ideology for achieving the independence of the masses of people.”

To achieve said independence of the masses, censorship and propaganda begin at a young age. North Korean children learn the history of the three Kim leaders - Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il, and Kim Jong Un - starting in preschool. Songs and theater performances tell the stories of the Kim family’s brilliance and  describe the Kims as higher beings who have devoted their lives to serving their country.

In Jang Jin Sung’s memoir of his defection from North Korea, Jang tells a well-known North Korean fable of a man whose house was burning down. This man had just enough time to save either his children or the portraits of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. He saved the portraits and was regarded a hero.

Censorship and propaganda continues into adult life with the monitoring by neighborhood supervisors. The Inminban are networks of North Korean women who patrol their neighborhoods for criminal activity, which includes any questioning and disparaging of the Kims or of the North Korean state. While cellphones are allowed, they are heavily surveilled by the state.

Within North Korea, there are two main news sources: the Korean Central News Agency (KCNA) and Rodong Sinmun. Since these news sources exist online, they are difficult to access for the North Korean people. These newspapers primarily are written for foreign onlookers and detail the daily activities of the Supreme Leader Kim Jong Un. Articles contain heavy propaganda and report a “straightforward reflection of Pyongyang’s policy stance”, leaving no room for personal opinions.

Censorship, state-run media, propaganda in schools and in the arts, and surveillance all serve the purpose of controlling the North Korean people, to achieve the desired ‘independence of the masses’ from outside influences. The most startling effort; however, is the rewriting of history.

Historical reshaping became a talking point of international media in the early 2010s, following the release of the memoir Dear Leader by Jang Jin-Sung. Jang worked in Pyongyang as a propaganda poet and assisted with the rewriting of Kim Jong Il’s biography.

Reshaping began after the Korean War in the 1950s when North Korea was established as its own state. Kim Il Sung, the first leader of North Korea, had his biography rewritten by state officials. Kim Il Sung’s birth conveniently fell on April 15, 1912, the same day the Titanic sunk. His biography opens with the telling of how the world began to change from the moment he was born, starting with Titanic’s demise. The biography served to “solidify a narrative of his [KIS] own unblemished record” from the Korean War and into his time as Great Leader of North Korea.

Following in his father’s footsteps, Kim Jong Il had his past similarly rewritten once he took over as Dear Leader of North Korea in 1994. This process began with the location of his birth. Despite reports that he was born in the Soviet Union, the North Korean state claims that Kim Jong Il was born in a military camp in on Mount Paektu. Given the claims that all three North Korean leaders were born on this mountain, they are referred to as the “Mount Paektu Bloodline”.

Despite being merely a child during the Korean War, his biography tells the story of a young boy at the front lines of battle, learning to conduct military operations with his father. After the fall of the Soviet Union, stories about North Korea’s relationship with the Soviet Union were modified to give the impression that North Korea had been skeptical about the survival of the Soviet state since the very beginning. Along with the rewriting process, Kim Jong Il ordered a “massive purge of libraries” to destroy any unflattering stories of North Korea’s past.

After Kim Jong Il’s death in 2011, Kim Jong Un began his reign as Supreme Leader with a purge of over 400 high-level government officials. Unlike his father, who had years of experience in the government before assuming the role of head of state, Kim Jong Il’s death took North Korea by surprise. This forced Kim Jong Un to step up as Supreme Leader having had little experience dealing with his father’s officials. His purging of most of his father’s government was with the intention of proving himself as a strong and legitimate leader.

The most well-known executed official was Jang Song Thaek, Kim Jong Un’s uncle. Jang and Kim worked together for two years without much issue until late 2013. After constantly disagreeing with the Supreme Leader, Kim decided he had enough. Jang was arrested at a meeting, stood for trial a few days later, and was executed. Rumors said he was “stripped naked and fed to 120 dogs”; however there is no factual basis for this claim. In media coverage of the event, Jang was referred to as “despicable human scum” and after the execution, Rodong Sinmun erased tens of thousands of articles referring to Jang from their online databases, as if he had never existed.

The intense controls on the North Korean media lead one to ask whether North Koreans are convinced of their altered history and of the propaganda. Coverage of North Korea in popular media sources presents the people as being brainwashed by Kim Jong Un. For example, the film The Interview perpetuates some stereotypes of the North Korean people, despite being written as a comedy. The following quote is Jang Jin Sung’s take on this issue:

“North Koreans are people, and they aren’t stupid. In the North Korean system, you have to praise Kim and sing hymns about him and take it seriously, even if you think it’s only a shit narrative. That’s the block, you see? It’s not that people are brainwashed and think he’s god. These are the things that people know, but they don’t dare to challenge.”

There are likely people who believe in the North Korean state and trust the stories they are told. However, there are also likely people who have zero faith in the state. With the rising number of defectors each year, it is clear that more and more North Koreans are aware of the situation they are in and are actively trying to escape.

The severe punishment waiting for North Koreans who attempt escaping is enough to scare someone into staying put. After three failed escape attempts, the defector will be executed along with three generations of their family. The state does not stop with one execution, but they continue to execute the entire close bloodline. This way the state can deter any future attempts by this family to escape from North Korea.

Unfortunately, there is not much that can be done about this issue. North Korea has no incentive to stop their censorship, propaganda, or rewriting of history. It is in their best interest to continue these practices to maintain the intense cult of personality surrounding the Kim family.

Given the outcome of the recent Hanoi summit between North Korea and the United States, the US is in no position to interfere in Kim’s affairs. Relations between North Korea and the US have returned to being hostile and do not show any signs of improving. International actors, like the United Nations, have also used up all their cards in recent attempts to shame North Korea into addressing human rights violations.

The state with the most leverage regarding North Korea is South Korea. President Moon Jae-In ran for president on the platform of reunification as his primary goal. He is positioned well to work bilaterally with North Korea, especially since their recent summit at Panmunjom in April of 2018 was successful. It is up to President Moon to determine the future of inter-peninsula relations. Ultimately, South Korea is the sole government that could potentially improve the freedom of speech in North Korea. However, change is not likely. North Korea has no incentive to loosen their censorship. It will take expert level negotiations and agreements in order for Kim Jong Un to relinquish some control. It is likely that fake news will continue to prevail in North Korea for some time to come.

In looking ahead to a future where the United States, South Korea, and North Korea are working together, the most practical way to go about remedying this situation would be a gradual rollback of censorship. North Koreans have been raised to believe that Americans are their ultimate enemy and that South Koreans are poorer than they are. If either the US or South Korea enter North Korea and immediately expose citizens to the whole truth, North Koreans would not be likely to believe them. Incremental exposure to their true history and contemporary affairs would be the best method of reintegration into an uncensored state.

Hope, Fear and the Unknown in Thailand’s Upcoming Elections

This March, Thailand is scheduled to have their first elections since the military coup of 2014. As the election date approaches, there is hesitation on the legitimacy of the voting process that will occur in the coming weeks. Thailand has experienced multiple coups, this one being the twelfth successful instance  since 1932. The most notable ones occured in 1991, 2006, and with the most recent coup occuring in 2014. Since the 2014 military coup, norms and expected behaviors have not followed the previous pattern of the other military takeovers. The typical script being: coup takes over power, control over broadcasting and media entities, a parade of military power, and then the drafting of a new constitution with promises of elections within a year. However, the transitional government established after the 2014 coup was unprepared, taking five years before scheduled elections - which are officially scheduled for Sunday, March 24, 2019.

The history of Thailand’s government and civil society is one still trying to figure itself out – constantly tilting from dictatorial conservatism and democratic rule. Thailand has brought forth the vibrant democratic values seen in the 1997 Constitution. However much civil progress has receded in the past 20 years with Thailand now shifting more towards authoritarianism.

A key player in Thai politics is Thaksin Shinawatra, the influential leader of the Pheu Thai Party and former prime minister. Thaksin was elected as prime minister in 2001 and represented an unprecedented victory in elections. Thaksin came into power by optimizing elector support, a seeming obvious in politics, however a tool that went unused and propelled him to the highest office. After the victory in 2001, the Pheu Thai party has won the past five elections only to be forcibly removed by courts or Thai military in 2006 and 2014. The Pheu Thai Party is known for authoritarian practices, dismissal of checks and balances, and human rights violations. The 2006 coup, also known as the ‘good coup’ was an attempt to re-democratize Thailand, however, the 2011 election of Thaksin’s sister, Yingluck Shinawatra brought back the authoritarian practices that lead to the 2014 coup. Both Thaksin and Yingluck are in self-imposed exile, however, Thaksin’s influence in Thai politics is still seen today. The newest Constitution, a product of the 2014 coup, has attempted to remove the influence of elected officials and place more power into the hands of the military.

It is important mentioning that other motivations for this upcoming election might have, in part, to do with Thailand hosting the 2019 Association of Southeast Asian Nations summit this June. Placing Thailand on an international stage will invite international attention and scrutiny if these upcoming elections go poorly.

The Political Parties and Presidential Candidates:

The belief that this election will be any different from the past is hopeful yet hesitant. The political map of Thailand is currently being contested by three key parties as the elections will be held on March 24th. The suffrage age is 18 in Thailand and it is a compulsory system.

Palang Pracharat Party is the current political party in power, led by current Prime Minister Prayuth Chan-ocha and backed by the military. This party was established in 2018. Along with Mr. Prayuth, deputy prime minister Somkid Jatusripitak and party leader Uttama Savanayana will have their names on the ballot in the general election.  Leaders of this party lead the 2014 coup and have been pushing the election date farther back in order to ensure fair elections as well as for their own benefit as they gain political support.

Pheu Thai Party’s The political ties to the controversial former of prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra is both damaging and attracting depending on the point of view. The party, however, picked Viroj Pao-in as the representative for the general election.

Thai Raksa Chart party has connections to the Pheu Thai party as well as to former exiled prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra. The Raksa party is preparing to nominate Princess Ubolratana, the older sister of King Vajiralongkorn. She was stripped of her royal title when she married an American, so notions against speaking ill of Thai royalty/sacred monarchy no longer apply to the princess. King Vajiralongkorn decreed that her bid was ‘inappropriate.’ The combination of her royal past and her connection to Thaksin made her an unpredictable candidate both in intention and popularity in turning the election in her favor. Ubolratana was disqualified from the elections by the election commission and the Thai Raksa Chart party is now in process of termination via the election commission requesting the constitutional court to officially dissolve the party. The Court is expected to rule against Thai Raksa Chart.

Democrat Party is currently being lead by former prime minister Abhisit Vejjajiva who served from 2008 to 2011. Unique to Vejjajiva was that he was born in the United Kingdom and Western educated. He is known for being outspoken on corruption and authoritarian rule. It is believed that the Democrat party is the least popular among the key players and compromised/concessions would have to be made in order for the party to rise to power.

Assuming, free and fair elections, it is hard to say who will win the majority in the elections. With the current actions of the Thai government, even the legitimacy of elections is in question. The incumbent power and revised constitution give the military or Palang Pracharat Party more of an advantage, especially if the Thai Raksa party is officially dissolved and ineligible to enter new candidates in the election. The nomination of Princess Ubolratana of the Thai Raksa party and her connection with Thaksin and Pheu Thai party made her an unpredictable candidate and inherent threat to the Palang Pracharat Party. With Ubolratana now not a contending candidate, the influence of the military in current government and media outlets, the likelihood of current prime minister, Prayuth Chan-ocha of the Palang Pracharat Party to remain in power is shaping up to be the result. Which begs the question - is this democracy?

Conclusion

The Thai people have experienced constant frustration in the lack of true representation as well as corruption within Thai politics. Elections are not going smoothly. Since the beginning of 2019, protests have sprung up in an attempt to raise awareness on constant delaying of elections; Thai military has suspended a TV station critical of the military and the expected dissolution of a major contending political party. Free and fair elections are critical in developing a true democracy. At the core of this is the dismissal and denial of civil rights given to the Thai people under a ‘democratic rule’. In a Democracy, the citizens are the most important political actors in the state. In Thailand, citizens are becoming increasingly irrelevant and disregarded as political actors. As these power politics play out, hope, fear and the unknown remain as Thailand heads to the polls.

Mumbai’s Slums: The Positives and Negatives

Mumbai, the capital of India’s state of Maharashtra, is a global city that is growing every day. It resides on the western coast of India and is comprised of several islands. It is a city full of rich history, including the infamous colonization by the British in 1924. Today it attracts many tourists, who enjoy seeing the beautiful architecture of sites such as Gateway of India and the Elephanta Caves. Though Mumbai is ever-growing, it has dire issues pertaining to its divide between the rich and the poor living in slum communities. Residents of these slum communities, which are often referenced as “slum dwellers,” make up 52% of Mumbai’s population. Mumbai’s slums represent India’s issues pertaining to overpopulation, access to drinking water, pollution, land space, poverty, unemployment, health, and waste disposal. According to Sunil Kumar Karn, Shigeo Shikura, and Hideki Harada’s Living Environment and Health of Urban Poor, India’s definition of slums is “areas where buildings are unfit for human habitation; or are by reason of dilapidation, overcrowding, design of buildings, narrowness of streets, lack of ventilation, light or sanitary facilities or any combination of these factors, are detrimental to safety, health, or morals.” The poor infrastructure of slum communities in Mumbai affect other alarming issues, particularly the access to water, overcrowding, and spread of illness amongst residents. These three factors play a role together in creating a negative effect on the growth of these areas. Though these issues are significant and must be resolved immediately, we also need to acknowledge that Mumbai’s slums are often painted in a negative light. Slum communities in Mumbai and across India obtain a sense of independence and community of their own and can sustain themselves. Though the government has not yet implemented effective solutions for the infrastructure of Mumbai’s slums, there can be a brighter future if government deregulation, overseeing, and funding of redevelopment projects are put in place.

The infrastructure of Mumbai slums affects water access for its residents. In Mumbai, slum communities are categorized as either notified or non-notified. According to Ramnath Subbaraman and Sharmila L Murthy’s The Right to Water in the Slums of Mumbai, India, notified slums are recognized by the government and “are entitled to receive security of land tenure, which means that the people who live in them cannot be arbitrarily evicted.” Residents living in notified slums have access to city services and its water supply. Non-notified slums, however, have more difficulty accessing piped water, electricity, public transportation, and other government services. This is because the residents of non-notified slums do not have property rights over their homes, therefore they cannot access municipal water supplies. Almost half of Mumbai’s slums are non-notified, so this clearly impacts a large portion of the population. To become notified, residents must show that they have lived in a slum that settled on state or city owned land before 2000. Mumbai slums owned by the central government do not apply to the notified category despite being settled for decades. For example, the Mumbai slum Kaula Bandar that resides on central government land was considered a non-notified slum despite its existence there for over 50 years.

In Mumbai, there is a chlorinated central water supply that is administered by the government. Residents in non-notified slums have not been able to legally connect to this central water supply system, so they must illegally tap into the city’s water pipes, which creates a risk of cross-contamination. Each year, 30-60% of households get affected by water-related diseases each year, and two-thirds of those households are children. And, because residents don’t boil the water before consuming it, illnesses continue to spread. During the summer, water is often contaminated with Escherichia Coli, which means that the water had been mixed with feces. People residing in non-notified slums were forced to buy water from street vendors, which cost forty times more than government provided water that residents in notified slums paid for. Each person accessed to less than 20 liters of water per day, which is under the minimum consumption level needed for basic hygiene. Unclean water causes diarrheal diseases in children and increases their mortality rate. In addition, the infant mortality rate in non-notified slums such as Kaula Bandar was more than twice than notified slums and 30% more than the rest of Mumbai. Therefore, the inability to access safe drinking water because of property rights and government policy had a major effect on the health of residents.

In 2014, an organization called Pani Haq Samiti successfully pressured the city government give access to Mumbai’s water supply to non-notified slums. They achieved this by looking at the Constitution of India, which states that every human must have the right to water. The Bombay High Court also referenced international human law, which states that it is a human right to have access to safe drinking water and sanitation. The Bombay High Court additionally stated that having property rights of a slum should not determine whether you have the right to water or not. Though this new policy is now implemented, there are still issues surrounding it. For example, the policy states that it is not necessary for the non-notified slums to pay the same price as the other slum communities, and it is not necessary for individual homes in slums to have their own tap connections. In addition, the government wants to completely remove non-notified slums, which would not only take numerous years, but also would incur forced displacement. The Bombay High Court does not have a say in central government land, which is where many of the non-notified slums reside in. The poor infrastructure of the sewage does not help either. According to Sunil Kumar Karn, Shigeo Shikura, and Hideki Harada’s Living Environment and Health of Urban Poor, “In the slums, typically a small narrow gutter (mostly open or partially covered) is found between the rows of dwellings that serves for all types of drainage including the sewage water. Since such drains are also not technically designed and laid out, they often get clogged and water spills over.” Therefore, the infrastructure and the new policy doesn’t particularly solve the problem of access to drinking water or the spread of water-related diseases in slum communities.

Aside from the fact that the lack of infrastructure and policy affects the access to water and health of the residents, housing conditions also contributes to the prevention of growth of these communities. Historically, housing has been an issue in India for over 150 years. It was furthered by Britain’s colonial administration, which did not care about the living conditions of Indians. There has been an analysis of India’s Five-Year Plans from 1951 to 2017. According to Cheryl Young’s Accommodating Housing in India: Lessons from Development Capital, Policy Frames, and Slums, India’s five-year plans prior to 1985 hadn’t mentioned slums and housing together with economic development and social equity. The 1985-1990 five-year plan was the first plan that had “strong human rights/rights-based discourse in the case for housing.” (57) The most recent five-year plan (2012-2017) mentioned that the affordable housing problem is initiated by a “demand-supply gap.” The government created a plan where they would increase affordability by lowering land prices through land readjustment and floor space index. However, there was no specific reference to slums. Throughout the years, projects by NGO’s, private developers, land-owners, and the Mumbai government have endeavoured to redevelop slums. Most of these projects required the demolishing of these communities and building medium-rise apartments over them. However, many of these initiatives were never completed. Efforts ever since 1980 by state appointed committees, such as the Moghe and Awale committee, have promoted policies to improve housing slum housing conditions. In 1991 and 1995, the Slum Redevelopment Scheme and the Slum Rehabilitation Scheme were suggested as well. However, according to Vinit Mukhija’s Squatters as Developers?: Slum Redevelopment in Mumbai, “Previous attempts at increasing the allowed intensity of development in the city were criticized and not implemented because such changes were believed to lead to an increase in the population and, therefore, more pressure on its infrastructure and environmental resources.” Despite the enormous barrier and gaping fear that overpopulation creates for the idea of redeveloping slums, all parties seem to accept the idea of redeveloping, including landowners, private developers, the state government, and slum dwellers themselves. Redeveloping projects would be a positive action that would increase profits for landowners and private developers while making Mumbai look more attractive as a city. To the government, it would mean a higher property tax collection as well.

However, there would also be many risks involved to redevelopment. The property values would have to be high enough to benefit the residents and compensate the landowners and private developers. If property values were to decrease during the construction process, it would negatively affect all parties, especially the slum dwellers because that is where they live. In addition, slum dwellers wouldn’t have a voice in these projects because they are not the ones investing in them. Those who would have a say would be the private/public sectors and non-profits organizations. In an attempt to make projects work, the government prohibited itself from profiting off redevelopment. However, private developers were still asking for financial support from the local and state government because of the high costs and, as Vinit Mukhija says, the “lack of formal institutional support for development (construction) finance.” This would initiate a variety of arguments between the multiple parties, which would further increase the risk of redeveloping projects because of their uncertainty. It is additionally difficult because of the ‘irregular’ structure of the slums themselves. According to Vinit Mukhija’s Squatters as Developers?: Slum Redevelopment in Mumbai, it would be hard to provide basic infrastructure because of the strange layout of the present slums:

The physical structure of their properties can make it difficult for the slum-dwellers to capitalize on the potentially high land values, without some form of change in the physical structure of their properties through land assembly or land readjustment. Moreover, the city’s slum-dwellers are likely to have already built-up their properties with floor areas equal to, or more than, what the legal development rights allow.

In addition, there is a lack of financing for construction and that slums are considered to be ‘risky collateral’ by investors. Lastly, pre-sales, where the buyers would finance the construction in advance, would be tough because of the fear of uncertainty and the lack of institutional funding for construction.  Because of all of these aspects together, there is a lack of attempt by the government and developers to try to improve living conditions of slum dwellers by reforming their homes.

Despite these dire issues, slums should not be seen as all negative. Slum communities, such as the famous Dharavi, create a sense of an independent community. As of 2017, it has been recorded that 700,000 people reside within the 0.8 square miles of Dharavi. According to Sunil Kumar Karn, Shigeo Shikura, and Hideki Harada’s Living Environment and Health of Urban Poor, “… Dharavi have more affection for their present social life and the type of employment, which they fear would be lost otherwise. Environmental problems appear tolerable to them when compared with the degree of social security, their present habitation offered." In other words, despite the problems that this slum community faces, residents still appreciate the unique social networks they create within the area. However, Feargus O’Sullivan’s in In Mumbai, a Push to Recognize the Successes of ‘Informal’ Development states that a Dubai-based firm is trying to demolish this slum and rebuild over it. The source states that “similar redevelopment schemes in other Indian cities have often smashed the heart out of neighborhoods, destroying social and cultural support networks without meaningfully improving conditions for displaced residents or building something sustainable and vibrant.” Dharavi additionally contains about 67 slum communities and holds a variety of identities. Its first settlers were tanners and potters who were part of different communities of numerous religions and caste affiliations. This community was made up of migrants from the center of the city as well as from rural areas of India. According to Jan Nijman’s India’s Urban Future: Views From the Slum, 70% of the population are Hindus (of a variety of sub castes, or jatis), 20% are Muslims, and 10% are Christian. Many residents come from states such as Maharashtra, Gujarat, Karnataka, and Uttar Pradesh. Despite its diversity and prominent community, Dharavi is ‘untouched’ by the government. It is also difficult for outsiders to determine whether something is a public of private space. The lack of space and over-crowding creates a communal identity because no one has real privacy, which promotes social interaction and networking. Therefore, residents’ identities are ‘place-based’ and communal. In addition, 70% of residents say that the most valued aspect of this area is “community.” Jan Nijman’s India’s Urban Future: Views From the Slum states that “venturing outside their community and its territorial confines is often accompanied by apprehension, stress, and feelings of insecurity." Slum dwellers feel as if they are ‘outsiders’ despite being within a city, which strengthens their own community identity and communal feeling of insecurity. After conducting a study, 93% of residents in Dharavi say they aren’t going to move, and, interestingly, 12% even put their neighborhoods in the slum category. 62% of residents said that their lives improved within the past couple of years. Despite numerous problems pertaining to slums such as Dharavi, residents are satisfied with their lifestyles because they have the social networks to support them.

Though poor infrastructure and negative representation creates a significant barrier for them, slum dwellers can create community identities because they all simultaneously work to survive. According to Laura B. Nolan’s Slum Definitions in Urban India: Implications for the Measurement of Health Inequalities, “A slum is often not recognized and addressed by the public authorities as an integral or equal part of the city." Many sources have stated that the Indian government and media paint slums in a negative picture, not even considering them a part of the city. And, to a certain degree, a slum cannot be involved with the city because it simply can’t afford it. Laura B. Nolan continues to state that “…poor living conditions like those found in slums likely have substantial adverse consequences for productivity and human capital development. Slum residents, for example, spend significant time and resources obtaining water and waiting to use public toilets." In other words, because residents in slums are caught up with trying to survive and sustain themselves, they participate less in the city’s society and its labor force. In that sense, Mumbai’s slums have communities of their own because they are all going through the same struggle. According to Jan Nijman’s India’s Urban Future: Views From the Slum, “Cities are shaped not only by large-scale structural forces but also from the ground up, on a daily basis, by city dwellers along with their mindsets and aspirations in addition to the institutions that organize their lives." However, they are viewed negatively and are seen as more of a “burden on the city” because they are the result of overpopulation, poverty, and extreme migration from rural areas of India. In other words, people see slums as a real living example of what is going wrong in their city. The fact that many of the slums’ residents are from rural parts of India promotes the sense of community within their urban neighborhoods. In fact, many of slum dwellers migrate to the city to work but continue to keep their connections and homes in their rural villages. Migrants bring social and cultural affiliations, traditions, cultural identities, and family ties to that of their rural villages. This creates a strong connection between the urban and rural parts of India because slum dwellers continue their rural lifestyles among urban settlers.

India’s lack of job opportunities surprisingly strengthens the sense of community and economy of slums. According to Jan Nijman’s India’s Urban Future: Views From the Slum, India does not invest enough in manufacturing. Indian Manufacturing firms are quite small, where 84% of them employ less than 50 workers, unlike China, which is only 25%. In addition, India invests more in other countries such as the India-based TATA Group, which is the largest single employer in the United Kingdom. This company does not benefit India directly or increase job growth in their own country. Indian cities such as Mumbai don’t invest enough in manufacturing because the service sector is more prominent. However, jobs in services tend to give higher pay to highly educated workers or poor pay to poorly educated workers. This creates the large gap between the rich and poor in Mumbai, where the middle class is non-existent. There is no creation of jobs in the manufacturing sector, which would help Mumbai slum dwellers. Mumbai’s slums are a representation of unemployed former agricultural and industrial workers and the lack of opportunity they had back home in their rural villages. And, again, there is the lack of institutional support. There is a lack of formality of planning on how to fix problems in slums. Because there is a lack of investment towards slums as well as an absence of employment and production, slums look to themselves and create their own economies. Slums create a form of “resilience,” and Jan Nijman states “The idea is that certain slums evolve (arguably out of necessity) into a form of economic and social self-organization that goes well beyond the slum as a mere labor reservoir of residential space." Slum communities are sustaining themselves by creating jobs out of the need to survive.

Dharavi is, again, a prominent example of the ‘slum economy.’ Though it has its overcrowding issue, which would cause high unemployment, it manages to hold down its own economy. According to Jan Nijman’s India’s Urban Future: Views From the Slum, Dharavi holds approximately 1,200 manufacturing units and 8,000 shops. Trucks go in and out delivering goods to outside sources. Almost 80% of heads of the households are employed, and 83% of those unemployed are either retired or not looking for work. 29% of the heads of the households are self-employed, and most of them operate their manufacturing or retailing businesses within Dharavi. Owners of businesses also live inside Dharavi, as well as 95% of their workers. Not only is the employment high, but the job stability is as well. People keep their jobs for an average of 18 years. There is a wide variety of businesses that run in this slum economy, including in garments, food, leather products, recycling/chemicals/plastics, pottery, machinery, building materials, jewelry, and printing. These businesses create a sense of community because certain economic activities are associated with specific communities within Dharavi. All the professions cluster together in order to share the same spaces, and this creates communal identity as well. For example, Hindu men are typically leather workers, potters, or jewelers. Most companies have operated in Dharavi for an average of 15 years. The second most valued aspect by residents in Dharavi is its location and the access to jobs, schools, and hospitals. Therefore, slums are not actually areas that are solely filled with unemployed people; instead, they are extremely active and significantly contribute income in Mumbai.

Effective government policy is necessary to create opportunity to improve living situations in Mumbai's slums. Firstly, the city needs more government intervention and overseeing. Secondly, slum dwellers need to have a voice and the ability to make decisions on these projects. There would be an incentive for slum dwellers to continue to demand for redevelopment if there is a possibility “of creating property assets that have a larger area, are more marketable and have higher property values.” In terms of the local government, there should be more deregulation. They should promote more flexibility in project conceptualization and building plans, as well as remove certain building code requirements and land use plans. This would spark more ‘community entrepreneurialism,’ which would not only build the community, but support the idea that slum dwellers themselves can rebuild their communities rather than having outsiders coming in making decisions on their neighborhoods. There should also be agreements put in place by the government between the developers and the slum dwellers, so the developers don’t take advantage of them, being the dwellers are most at risk when these projects are constructed. In terms of the lack of support for construction, the government must be able to fund private developers, since it is too costly for them to do it alone. In the end, redeveloping is in the best interest of slum dwellers because it doesn’t cause displacement, but rather improves their housing conditions and makes their properties more valuable. It also solves the problem of slums being depicted as outsiders. Slums dwellers would feel less vulnerable by the rest of Mumbai if it isn’t constantly seen as a negative, filthy, poverty-stricken place. To try to solve the overpopulation and overcrowding issue of slums, medium rise living could be an option. Instead of building out, developers can build up. This would also increase the value of the houses themselves. To keep from wiping out the sense of community in these slums, construction businesses and builders must incorporate cultural traditions of these areas. For example, they can incorporate the idea of the chawl, which is a single room tenement that serves as both a living and a work space. This is a tradition that has been historically established in slums and implementing something that has been integrated in their daily life for so long will maintain and continue the culture. The biggest and most fascinating characteristic of Mumbai’s slums is the ability to use a space for multiple functions. Though it may not seem like enough, the residents make it work.

In conclusion, Mumbai slums should not be seen as wastelands or places of despair. Of course, there are many problems that must be resolved such as access to safe water, sanitation, health, and environmental sustainability. We see how these problems stem from the poor infrastructure and policy-making of these communities. If the government makes a greater effort to implement policies that could help improve housing conditions in Mumbai slums, other problems such as water access and the general health of residents could improve as well. Though there are issues that need to be resolved, we also see that slums are communities that value social interaction and work together to sustain themselves and create a unique world of their own. It has been proven that they are able to maintain their communities out of the need for survival. Therefore, Mumbai slums are not as bad as India, as well as the rest of the world, think they are.

Evolution of Contemporary Responses to Human Rights Abuses in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea

North Korea, also known as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), has become increasingly responsive to human rights criticism since early 2010. The DPRK has recently begun to respond to United Nations human rights investigations, and in 2018 they  participated in bilateral meetings with South Korea and the United States to discuss their foreign relations. As a result of these historic developments, the following question is proposed: how have responses to North Korean human rights abuses evolved in the twenty-first century? The international community has attempted two different methods of addressing North Korea’s human rights abuses: The early 2010s were characterized by shaming Kim Jong Un’s regime; and the late 2010s have been characterized by international collaboration with North Korea, notably with South Korea and the United States. These distinct periods are reflected in two diverse responses from the Kim regime regarding allegations of their human rights violations.

Human Rights Abuses

North Korea has been known for its terrible human rights violations since the informal end to the Korean War in 1953. When the two Koreas split, North Korea spiraled into an inhumane dictatorship run by the Kim family. As evidence of this, North Korea placed third-to-last out of 195 countries on Freedom House’s 2018 ranking of free countries, preceded only by Syria and South Sudan.

It is well known that the Kim regime strictly dictates the lives of the North Korean people. As the executive director of Human Rights Watch, Kenneth Roth, puts it, the DPRK engages in “unprecedented crimes against humanity.” The country’s isolation and prioritization of defense and military spending presents a confounding image of both nuclear armament and extreme poverty and starvation. The strict control of food rations also poses major issues for the North Korean population and the country is again at risk of falling into a famine. In a 2017 report, it was estimated that at least forty percent of the North Korean population is suffering from severe food insecurity, with only the capital city of Pyongyang exempted from this issue.

Censorship, travel bans, public executions, and political prison camps are also major human rights violations of the North Korean people. In a December 2017 report on North Korean political prisons, the DPRK was found guilty of ten crimes against humanity. These include enslavement, torture, persecution, and enforced disappearances. It is clear that the North Korean government violates the human rights of the majority of its citizens. As a recent defector explained, “if you don’t have money or power, you die in a ditch.” The international community is aware of these violations and has been increasingly addressing these issues over the past decade.

The First Wave of Responses

The first wave of responses to the human rights abuses committed by North Korea began in 2013 with the establishment of the Commission of Inquiry on Human Rights in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. The United Nations created this commission to investigate the widespread violations of human rights. In doing so, they called for North Korean compliance with the investigation and humanitarian assistance if deemed necessary. The Commission released their report to the public in February 2014, finding that the North Korean government was guilty of “systematic, widespread, and gross human rights violations.” The report also includes a letter sent by Michael Kirby, chair of the commission, to Supreme Leader Kim, in which Kirby expressed his disappointment for not being granted access to travel to Pyongyang. Kirby further explains that he had been hoping to speak with the Supreme Leader and his top government officials in order to better understand the North Korean perspective on their own human rights.

North Korea’s noncompliance in the commission and their refusal to respond to various correspondences was of high concern to the United Nations. Kim, however, saw no problem with remaining silent when faced by these claims. Having just taken over power from his father Kim Jong Il in 2011, acknowledging the human rights abuses would have undermined his authority and ability to lead. Therefore, it was a rational decision of the DPRK not to respond to shaming tactics imposed by the international community.

Later in 2014, the United Nations made two more similar attempts at responding to North Korea’s human right abuses:

1. The United Nations formally added North Korea’s human rights abuses to the Security Council’s agenda as a “threat to international peace and security.”

2. The UN General Assembly passed Resolution 69/188 addressing human rights in the DPRK. The 7-page document condemns the actions of North Korea, expresses serious concern based on the commission’s findings, and strongly urges the DPRK to respect all of its citizens’ human rights.

Given the heightened importance placed on human rights in the DPRK and constant shaming tactics, North Korea responded to the United Nations by publishing their own report from the DPRK Association for Human Rights Studies. In this document, the regime explains how human rights are respected by their government and, contrary to the world’s belief, North Koreans are thriving. This report described the United States and the European Union as the main obstacles to promoting human rights in North Korea and labels the United Nations reports as vicious propaganda.  

This first wave of responses to human rights abuses in the DPRK can be characterized by multiple attempts from the United Nations at shaming North Korea and by North Korea’s persistent denial of any human rights abuses. North Korean foreign relations thawed during this time, however, there was no positive impact made on the human rights of the North Korean people, nor were human rights abuses acknowledged.   

Second Wave of Responses

The second notable wave of responses to human rights abuses began in 2017. After remaining dormant for a few years and observing the UN’s failure at diplomatically engaging with North Korea, the international community shifted its focus back to North Korea’s human rights abuses. This interest was likely sparked in part by the imprisonment of American college student Otto Warmbier, who was arrested for stealing state propaganda. His case drew attention to the treatment of political prisoners in North Korea when he died three weeks after his release to the United States in June of 2017. Despite their previous lack of success, the United Nations continued to use the shaming method in an attempt to embarrass North Korea into action. The UN Special Rapporteur on the Situation of Human Rights in North Korea released a report, as has been done every year since 2004, stating the UN’s increasing concern for the worsening of living conditions in North Korea. However, Kim merely continued his tradition of ignoring recommended regime changes.

Two states, South Korea and the United States, diverged from the UN and turned towards collaboration tactics in an effort to engage in dialogue with the DPRK. This was an attempt to move towards a period of tactical concessions, which would eventually move North Korea away from denial of their human rights abuses. In April, May, and September of 2018, South Korean president Moon Jae In met with Supreme Leader Kim to discuss ending the Korean War and the future of Korean relations. These historic meetings were the first time North and South Korean leaders have met in person since 1953. Kim agreed to denuclearize the peninsula before 2019 and a declaration was signed to officially end the Korean War. Plans to remove weapons and guard posts from the Demilitarized Zone were established and a united bid to host the Olympics in Korea was submitted to the Olympics Committee.

These three meetings between North and South Korea shared a key characteristic: they focused on nuclear capabilities and foreign relations, but not human rights. In order to get North Korea to open communication with the rest of the world, South Korea had to shift the dialogue to national security and improving relations. This is reflected in the Panmunjom Declaration, the resolution that came out of the first inter-Korean meeting. While the declaration was highly symbolic of a new era of peace on the Korean peninsula, it was lacking in realistic steps by which to denuclearize North Korea and improve their human rights.

The second key meeting was the US-North Korean summit in June 2018. This meeting, like the Inter-Korean summits, was highly symbolic. After the meeting, United States President Trump tweeted that “There is no longer a nuclear threat from North Korea.” However this declaration has been undermined by recent satellite evidence from CSIS, finding that the DPRK is in fact increasing their nuclear power. This does not come as a surprise, given that the declaration signed at this meeting was lacking in realistic measures by which the DPRK would move towards denuclearization.

In summary, the second wave of responses to North Korean human rights abuses was more successful than the first in bringing about dialogue with the DPRK, especially in regards to denuclearization. However, this increased interaction with the international community will make very few improvements on the human rights of North Koreans. As North Korean defector Jang Jin-Sung says in his autobiography: “North Korea uses dialogue as a tool of deception rather than negotiation.” The DPRK is likely engaging in dialogue with the intention of manipulating hopeful South Korean and American governments into weakening sanctions and de-escalating military threats. Pyongyang is feigning interest in cooperation while continuing to ignore its people’s human rights.

The heightened global attention to North Korea and their human rights abuses, as well as the Kim regime’s recent participation in bilateral summits, offers a promising view of the future of human rights in the DPRK. The United Nations Commission of Inquiry, Resolution, and Special Rapporteur have been effective in highlighting the human rights abuses in the DPRK, but ineffective in dialogue with North Korea and in presenting realistic steps to solve problems. Ultimately, the second wave of responses was far more effective in engaging North Korea in discussion, seen through diplomacy efforts from North Korea unprecedented in contemporary years. Although the summits focused on national security, minor concessions on human rights were made by North Korea. The Kaesong Industrial Region, a South Korean-owned North Korean-operated development complex is set to reopen, which will employ thousands of North Koreans and provide the North Korean state with significant economic assistance.

While human rights were not a particular focus of the second wave, the improved foreign relations brought about by all three summits will be key in long-term eradication of human rights violations. Once the issue of denuclearization has been somewhat mediated, the focus of diplomatic efforts should shift to human rights abuses. Positive progress in the human rights of North Koreans will come about very slowly, just as diplomatic relations with North Korea have been improving slowly. More than seventy years of tension cannot easily be remedied; however, states committed to progress will eventually bring about change. Therefore, further collaboration with the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea is in the best interest of the United States, South Korea, and the broader international community, including the United Nations. Continuing to host summits and strengthen diplomatic ties with Kim Jong Un will bring about gradual positive progress towards recognition of human rights violations by North Korea.

Fishers, Farmers, Craftspeople—Women: Gender in Post-Conflict Economic Reconstruction

“Api anaarakshithay” repeat the widows created by 30 years of protracted war in northern Sri Lanka. The phrase translates to ‘we lack security,’ and such security can result from expanding women’s post-conflict economic inclusion. In the post-conflict setting, populations face new challenges that are created not only by the persistence of violence, but also by limited access to resurging economies. For women, such challenges compound with changing demographics and the ensuing societal restructuring. Women enter into new roles in restructured economies, offering key opportunities to establish stable post-conflict livelihoods, yet obstacles to women’s economic access too often linger unaddressed. Without addressing such structural impediments to gender equity, any progress made towards gender parity remains acutely vulnerable to backsliding if conflict reignites. Conflicts in both Sri Lanka and the Kashmir Glacier originated in the 1980s, and women’s roles in the economies of both nations transformed throughout the nearly three decades of both conflicts’ duration. Each case demonstrates a disparate component of the challenges that women face during regions’ economic reconstruction. In Sri Lanka, discriminatory systemic structures and sexual violence create obstacles to women’s economic independence. In Jammu and Kashmir, reliance on craftsmen for training and middlemen to sell their products impede women’s success as craftspeople. Analyzing both distinct contexts provides insight into the new roles that women take on in post-conflict economies. Both case studies illustrate that the full economic empowerment of women requires resolving underlying power disparities in structures that predate conflicts. Given the duress that extended conflicts inflict on nations’ female populations, it is crucial to expand women’s economic access in order to insulate their self-sufficiency against the shock of further conflict. Women in the post conflict setting can neither be essentialized as ‘helpless victims’ nor can they be assumed to be ‘fine on their own.’ National governments and international humanitarian aid organizations must consider women’s changing roles in post-conflict economies in order to most effectively support the conflict-affected populations.

Sri Lanka

The civil war in Sri Lanka lasted from 1983 until 2009, with insurgent actors endeavoring to create an autonomous Tamil state in Sri Lanka’s north: the length of the war adds emphasis on national unity in the post-conflict setting. Despite this emphasis, such call for national unity cannot be allowed to serve as grounds to prevent the discussion of gender inequity and social change. Sri Lanka’s Sinhalese majority population and the Tamil and Muslim minority groups in the nation’s north all exhibit historical gender inequity, yet conflict between the separatist Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) and the Sri Lankan government permanently altered the role women play in northern Sri Lanka’s economy.

The significant number of majority-male casualties in northern Sri Lanka acted as a catalyst for more women to transition into the role of primary income generators in order to support their households. The Sri Lankan government reports that the total number of war widows in the nation is greater than 80,000, with many husbands still missing but not yet confirmed dead. Scholars in The International Journal of Human Rights explain that “war widows, female heads of households, female ex-combatants, employed women and girls are especially at risk due to their often impoverished contexts, their lack of education as a result of the war and their lack of opportunities in post-war economic reconstruction and development plans.” These war widows assume traditionally male roles in the nation’s economy to support their families, now working in the fishing and agricultural sectors at higher rates than in the prewar economy. Indeed, as elucidated by the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization, “another shift of women’s traditional to strategic roles occurred when women moved out of the domestic sphere and took on male roles in the absence of male family members; women consequently acquired more self-confidence and greater mobility and decision making powers within the family.” Such a transition in economic roles contributed to a 44 percent increase in hours worked by women in the service sector following Sri Lanka’s civil war. Troublingly, women’s transition into new sectors of the economy corresponds with 60 percent of women experiencing sexual harassment in the workplace in Sri Lanka, according to one survey in Colombo. Furthermore, upwards of 90% of women attested that they experienced sexual harassment in public spaces. This misogyny carries over to the conduct of regional government officials, who abuse their positions of power to ask women for sexual favors in exchange for services. While sexual violence may not be a direct result of the war, the predominance of men in positions of power and women’s need for self sufficiency during economic reconstruction creates conditions that inimically threaten to perpetuate such sexual violence. The combined antagonistic impacts of sexual violence and discriminatory land inheritance laws demonstrate the need for policies that address structural impediments to women’s success as they enter new roles in the post-conflict economy becomes clear.

In order to account for Sri Lankan women’s greater labor force participation, social and institutional impediments to their success must be confronted. The economic success that Sri Lanka enjoyed following the conflict’s close should not be seen as an overt success story, because structural gender inequalities remain. Women in Sri Lanka earn less than half of what men do, on average. While pay disparities are not a new challenge, the need for adequate compensation for women serving as their families’ primary income generators in the post-conflict setting is critical because “women who play multiple roles within households and society (such as cooking and carers of children and elderly) endure an opportunity cost for working outside the home for a wage,” according to Sri Lankan scholar Muttukrishna Sarvananthan. Women face additional challenges when working in the agricultural sector, resulting from inequitable inheritance laws. In Sri Lanka’s northern Jaffna province, women can control property in name only under the traditional Thesawalamai laws. In order to invest, receive loans, or sell their property, women need the written consent of a spouse – a spouse who the conflict possibly robbed them of. Additionally, when litigating disputes surrounding such property in court, women are treated as minors. Further difficulties are created due to the lack of equal economic growth across different sectors, for while Sri Lanka’s economic growth soared following the end of the civil war, 70 percent of this growth is in non-tradable sectors such as infrastructure construction. This unequal growth negatively impacts the livelihoods of women working in the agriculture and fishing sectors. Moreover, a large part of such construction is due to the heightened militarization of Sri Lanka’s north, and the expansion of the military presence often involves the military appropriating land that might have otherwise been farmed. The deep correlation between the military presence and sexual violence creates further impediments to women’s post-conflict livelihoods.

During the civil war, the use of sexual violence by both sides was prevalent, and the legacy of such violence persists in the post-conflict economy. The LTTE forcefully abducted women and girls previously both to use as human shields and for forced marriage, in addition to conscripting women as suicide bombers and combatants. The Sri Lankan military also used rape as a tactic to intimidate and procure information from the civilian populations in the north. Today, the growth of the Sri Lankan security sector continues, while its tendency towards sexual violence remains unresolved. Reports indicate that soldiers and police officers in some camps for displaced persons demand sexual favors in exchange for food and housing. Even outside of these camps, the military plays a large role in local economies, and that role in the economy prevents women from reporting sexual violence for fear that they will lose access to governmental support. Close to military bases, women report higher instances of sexual violence, and may experience societal exclusion due to the stigma attached to contact with the military, even when such contact was forced. In order to empower women to successfully manage their transition to the new role of breadwinners for families in the post-conflict setting, the government and international organizations must work to combat sexual violence and to promote growth in the economic sectors that women are primarily employed in.

Jammu and Kashmir

Conflict over control of Jammu and Kashmir exhibits both deep roots and sundry participants due to entrenched disputes surrounding territorial control. While China and India fought briefly over a portion of the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir, the brunt of the conflict manifested between Pakistan and India over control of the state in 1989. In the years following, intermittently flares of violence turned the region into a flashpoint, and spurred the creation of irregular military forces such as the Jammu Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF). The persistence of conflict damaged the success of sectors that rely on tourism, such as the craft industry that many women are transitioning in order to generate income in the post-conflict economy.

The discord that conflict over control of Jammu and Kashmir caused in the local economy forced many women in the region to assume new roles. Akin to the situation of women in post-conflict Sri Lanka, the region now has more women than men, with numerous war widows and ‘half widows,’ whose husbands’ whereabouts remain unknown. Such demographic changes coincide with changes in traditional roles in the economy, with one researcher’s fieldwork indicating that “the conflict has caused a shift in the gender ratio in terms of employment. Women have joined the crafts work force to generate income to support their families.” After losing their husbands in conflict, many women must now assume the role of the primary breadwinner in order to support their families. Given the historical strength of the craft industry in Jammu and Kashmir, many women joined the profession following conflict-induced demographic changes. The craft industry was traditionally dominated by men, with craftsmen also primarily driving the development of new techniques in the industry. This lack of historical experience in the craft leads women to follow established techniques, creating an obstacle for women hoping to launch their own businesses. Women entering the craft industry are prone to joining pre-existing enterprises in order to learn techniques from craftsmen already in the industry, due to the lower barrier to entry required to enter the industry in such a capacity. As more women transition into the Kashmiri crafts industry, further structural impediments to their success become evident.

Chart created by Neelam Raina.

Barriers to women’s success in the post-conflict craft sector include reliance on middlemen, attitudes towards women in the workplace, and the lasting impact of the conflict on the economy. The decentralized nature of the population in Jammu and Kashmir creates difficulties for craftspeople looking to sell their wares, resulting in many craftspeople entirely relying on middlemen to sell the products they craft. These middlemen pay for craftspeople’s pieces in advance, which provides income for craftspeople in the short term, but prevents them from accumulating a catalog in the long term. Craftspeople’s lack of a catalog forces them to rely on the word of middlemen to attest to the quality of their work. Furthermore, reliance on middlemen to sell their goods robs craftspeople of control over their financial futures, placing the sustainability of their livelihood at the mercy of fluctuations in the demand for their products. Middlemen reap the majority of the profits from the work of craftspeople, for because they are removed from the market, craftspeople do not have a good measure of the true value of their work. This disparity in power is exemplified by the chart above. Beyond this, Kashmiri women must also overcome the stigmatization of their employment. Kashmiri women who work to support themselves often feel shame in doing so, and combined with the prevalent lack of education and skills training among women, this contributes to women’s frustration and psychological struggles. Craftswomen also experience stigmatization from other people, who use women’s employment as grounds to question their morality and piety. This attitude translates to limited access to important information about opportunities for economic funding and support, due to an exclusionary tendency amongst majority male regional bureaucrats. This exclusion further extends to union involvement, which results in the benefits of such union action sometimes failing to extend to women. The conflict in Jammu and Kashmir greatly diminished the tourist trade in Jammu, and thus, “notwithstanding the fact that Kashmiri arts and crafts have enjoyed worldwide fame and name, their production suffered to a large extent …” according to economists in the International NGO Journal. To successfully ensure women’s livelihoods in the post-conflict setting, they must be equitably integrated into local industries, and regional and international actors must take action to spur the growth of such industries.

Conclusion

Women’s entrance into new roles in post-conflict economies heralds an opportunity to permanently, economically empower nations’ female populations. To achieve this goal, national and international actors supporting post-conflict economic development must proactively account for obstacles to women’s economic access and focus their support on the sectors of the economy that women transition into. Economic growth does not always extend to women, given that the specific industries they join may not grow at the same rate as nation’s broader economies. Moreover, antiquated laws and social dynamics hinder women’s ability to act independently, even when serving as their families’ sole breadwinners. Sexual violence in the workplace and by government officials must be eradicated. Women must be recognized as equal participants in the industries they join. While gendered power disparities in legal systems and industry practices may predate conflicts, resolving them is crucial to enabling women to fully participate in the post-conflict economy. Finally, gender-responsive development support requires a sector-by-sector analysis of women’s new workforce participation in order to rectify existing inequalities so that future conflict cannot erode the achievement of women in post-conflict economies.

Nationalism in Asian Education

Origins and Impact

Franklin D Roosevelt stated that “we cannot always build the future for our youth, but we can build our youth for the future.” The use of nationalism in education is prevalent in many countries spanning from the United States to India. Often, state-sponsored and regulated education is synonymous with selective education, including and rejecting certain narratives and stories over others, bolstering the good and glimsming over the bad. Thus, through education policy, governments control the effective indoctrination of mass populations into a constructed idea of society. The use of selective education and taught nationalism creates biases that prohibits clear and effective diplomacy.

Combining the control of information and ideas with impressionable youth can result in a continuation of taught ideals and politics and ultimately control of a population. When taught values and stereotypes are passed down from generation to generation, prejudice and discrimination exist.

Every human has a set of values and habits that are based in language, religion, philosophies, and communal cultures. Taught nationalism is both good and bad; it is inherently a part of a culture identity. Nationalism creates an alterity that often results to discrimination, bigotry and at worst genocide for those who don’t fit into the nationalistic idea.

This concept is not only positively used in everyday cultural communication that creates identities, but also used negatively to manipulate people. Taught nationalism diffuses throughout the world, regardless of region, language and religion. This article explicates the causes, forms, and impact of taught nationalism in Asia, specifically in China and India, where textbooks are rewritten to curate students’ ideas of their national identity.

Asian Nationalism in Education - looking at China and India

Education is often a tool through which state sponsored nationalist ideas are instilled. With an increase of foreign influence from Western nations such as the United States, countries turn towards more conservative approaches as nationalism is on the rise globally.

China

Scholar Suisheng Zhao of University of Denver argues that the origin of Chinese nationalism came into existence during the Opium War in the 1840s that ultimately opened China to Western imperialism. Nationalism takes on many forms in China from Han ethnic based nationalism to ideological liberal nationalism, or “the nation as a group of citizens who have a duty both to support the rights of the state and to pursue individual freedom.” While China opened its doors to the West, a 3rd form, pragmatic nationalism gained popularity allowing legitimacy and political control of the Communist party. The pragmatic nationalism allowed for the adoption of democratic ideals and loosening of communist ideology as long as it aided the continued growth and stability within China. From this movement came about the Patriotic Education campaign.  

The Patriotic Education campaign began in 1991, and shortly after the Tiananmen Square pro-democracy movement.  The campaign targeted young school-aged children to teach about past greatness and the “humiliating experience in the face of Western and Japanese incursion” and how the Communist led revolution created China into the power it is today. A primary mode was through the use of changing the narrative of collective Chinese history with a version in favor of the communist one party rule. The textbooks were replaced and “the old class struggle narrative” was replaced with a “ Maoist ‘victor narrative’ (China won national independence) was also superseded by a new ‘victimization narrative; which blames the ‘West’ for China’s suffering”. The teaching of this narrative by Chinese textbooks instills a sense of shame and effectively associates China’s problems to the West imperialism and forces. This goes as far as questions of national humiliation have become topics in the nationwide examination for attending universities.

India

The rise in nationalism originated with the decolonization movements at the end of the 1940s and 1950s. While the idea of a national identity, especially in the case of India and Pakistan was formed before the founding of the nation-states, it wasn’t until after full independence from the British Empire that nationalism was able to fully manifest.

The decolonization of British India and the creation of India and Pakistan left complex feelings, with celebrations of independence tinged with regret surrounding the violence brought about by partition - essentially, a divided freedom. The independence movement of 1947 created different narratives in the history of partition in Pakistani and Indian textbooks. Many Indian textbooks often portray the Muslim League as focusing solely on Muslims’ interests and the National Congress party as “Guardians of all Indians, regardless of religious affiliation”. Many Indian textbooks focus and revere the work of Gandhi. Where as comparsionly the same events in 1947 are taught in Pakistani textbooks as freedom and created a nation-state focused on social justice and Islamic Ideology, and more critically, the justification for the creation of Pakistan and the Two-Nation Theory. In the past few year in India as the BJP party has come into power and the rise of Hindu Nationalism within India, has resulted in the rewriting of history textbooks to portray Muslim Mughals as military brutes and Hindu rulers as victorious. Standard social science textbook for class 8 fail to mention Prime Minister Neru and the events of Gandhi’s assassination, which is particularly significant because the assassin, Nathuram Godse, was a member of the RSS which was the precursor to the BJP, the current political party in power.

What Taught Nationalism means in IR

Nationalism itself is a purely constructivist political theory in that it is centered on collective ideas and communal identities. Nationalistic portrayals of collective identity can instill a chosen trauma, or “the horrors of the past that cast shadows onto the future” and a chosen glory “myths about a glorious future, often seen as a seen as a reenactment of a glorious past” in an attempt to strengthen a group identity. This directly impacts international relations when countries, such as in the case of China, blame “Western” powers for economic, political and social challenges.

How the collective Chinese population views Western powers creates challenges during diplomatic exchanges. If nationalistic educational narratives instill distrust in Chinese leaders and Western leaders, actors will either work to deconstruct biases held against them or they will internalize those biases if their experiences validate them. As relations between the United States and China are currently marred by economic tension in a trade war, knowing of the biases of collective histories in the United States with anti-communism movements and the Tiananmen Square anti-democracy movements could aid in more diplomatic solutions. When nationalism is effective, chosen trauma and chosen glory impacts generations and cannot easily be corrected or significantly altered.

In the case of India, the distancing of Indian history from Mughal history is another example of how education can increase tensions between Hindus and Muslims. As political parties focus on Hindu identity, often hate-crimes become overlooked and a narrative of religious-political battle becomes prevalent in the media. As India becomes more Hindu-centric, it disengages from the realities facing the nation and surrounding states. India, known for taking in Tibetans, Sri Lankan Tamils and other persecuted people purportedly turned away Rohingya Muslim refugees from Myanmar in the name of national security, while in reality the religious difference plays an important role in the decision.

Conclusion

Young Adults are powerful political entities that are often forgotten, however even without the right to vote, their voices are undeniable. Youth are often easily impressionable as well. Education systems instill their young students with values, ideals and cultural understandings. While schools instill positive qualities for youth, they can just as easily instill  discrimination and hatred. China and India are not alone in the attempts to erase or hide specific aspects of their national histories. In understanding history, it is always important to be aware of what stories are being told and which ones are not. The education in the United States often glosses over many of the complexities of American History such as Native American massacres, freedom struggles for African Americans, modern-day race relations and institutional racism. When considering the impact of national education curriculums, it is important to ask what is missing and, more importantly, why?

Damming to Disaster: The Dangers of Hydropower Proliferation in Laos

The proliferation of renewable energy is rarely a controversial issue, but painting the construction of new hydroelectric dams in the Lao People's Democratic Republic as exclusively positive ignores the negative impacts of such dam construction on rural communities. Laos hopes to transform itself into the ‘the battery of Southeast Asia,’ enacting a plan that aims to construct upwards of 140 dams at a furious pace. This plan includes building numerous dams on the Mekong itself, which is the lifeblood of 60 million people who fish the river and farm the lands along its banks. Stemming from China, where it is known as the Lancang River, the Mekong flows through Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam before emptying into the South China Sea. The fish caught from the Mekong alone account for more than 10 percent of the world’s trade in fish, with the river supplying food to more than 300 million residents of the Mekong’s riparian nations. Yet, while dam building presents an important opportunity for Laos to utilize the vast stretches of the Mekong that languidly meanders through the nation’s territory in the Indochinese Peninsula to generate power and revenue for the nation, improper project planning and a lack of adequate precautions threaten to destroy the river’s ecosystems and displace the communities that depend on it. The shortcomings in damming projects specifically impact the rural population in Laos, while benefiting the investors and government officials driving the dams’ construction. In order to assuage the harsh criticisms of Laos’ hydroelectric aspirations, the Laotian government must open channels for local input into projects before they are approved, ensure that the proceeds of dams’ construction benefit those who dams displace, and strictly adhere to regional processes addressing the transboundary impacts of the project.

Proposed dams on the Mekong River

The Mekong is the second most biodiverse river in the world, but inadequately planned dams could denude the fragile balance of life in the ecosystems it supports, robbing littoral communities of crucial food and revenue sources. The Mekong River Commission (MRC), an intergovernmental management institution with representatives from regional administrations, reported in a six-year, multimillion-dollar study that current dam development plans would result in a loss of 97 percent of the sediment in the Mekong by 2040 and reduce yearly fishing revenues by nearly 5 billion dollars. Sediment is a crucial fertilizer for much of the Mekong’s littoral farmland, and plays an important role in preventing sea-water creep in the Mekong delta downriver in Thailand. Existing dams already threaten fishing and farming communities, currently reducing sediment in the river by 40 percent. Another study by the MRC indicates that the losses that local fishing industry would incur as a result of the dams would reduce the economic benefit of the dams’ construction by roughly 25 percent by 2020. While more than 1,300 species of fish currently breed in the Lower Mekong Basin, dam construction plans that do not account for environmental concerns threaten to inhibit fish from migrating to their breeding grounds. The partially-constructed Don Sahong dam in Laos lies a few miles from the habitat of the only 80 Irrawaddy dolphins left alive, and the destruction in habitat caused by the dam may drive the species to extinction. Proper consideration of environmental concerns could mitigate such fears, yet unfortunately the government of Laos and the private investors building the dams fail to demonstrate such adequate consideration. Accusations emerged recently that the officially released impact assessment of the proposed Pak Lay dam contained major sections that are copied and pasted from the previous Pak Beng dam assessment, an assessment subsequently disproven by the MRC. The copied sections falsely claimed that the environmental impact of the dam would be “insignificant or positive.” The paucity of substantial pre-construction environmental consideration  illustrates the Laotian government’s callous attitude toward the toll levied on riparian communities by changes to ecosystems and presents significant obstacles to Laos’ goal of becoming a sustainable dynamo for Southeast Asia.

Laos’ dam construction plans particularly impact rural communities where citizens wield insufficient resources to surmount the challenges posed by their forced displacement and changing sources of livelihood. The Lower Mekong Basin’s population is 85 percent rural, and not only relies on the Mekong for more than just their commercial livelihood, but also for their very subsistence, with locals eating 18 times more fish than citizens in the United States. Even if communities downstream of dams successfully weather the water-related shocks, state-sanctioned forced displacement will uproot numerous communities upstream of dams. The reservoir created by the aforementioned Pak Lay dam will displace 20 villages, necessitating the forced relocation of at least 1,000 families. The construction of the Xayaburi dam, Pak Beng dam, Nam Theun 2 dam, and Theun-Hinboun Expansion Project further displaced roughly 20,000 people. Beyond flooding and erosion, the nearly 5,000 people relocated for the Theun-Hinboun Expansion Project face serious concerns about their ability to sustain themselves in their new towns. Now living in consolidated villages without access to the Mekong, this population lost access to land that they historically fished and raised rice on, and land near their new village is predominantly allocated to rubber tree plantations. Dam projects also significantly impact the communities living downstream of the dams. The Xayaburi dam impaired the agricultural and fishing capacity of 200,000 people, placing the population at acute risk of food insecurity, according to estimates by the NGO International Rivers. The construction of the Pak Beng dam altered the water level in regional rapids and pools, damaging the ecosystems that many local villagers fished to eat from and earn a living. The Cambodian director of the World Wildlife Fund criticized the decision to construct the Don Sahong less than two miles from the Cambodian border, given that in Cambodia upwards of 70 percent of the protein eaten by the local population is from fish, noting that “the dam will have disastrous impacts on the entire river ecosystem all the way to the delta in Vietnam.” While the government of Laos is a clear proponent of dam construction, it must commit adequate resources to easing the relocation process for the affected rural population. A decreased number of fish in waterways and insufficient governmental allocation of land for farming specifically endanger the primary income sources of the rural population. The forced displacement of large subsets of the rural population coincides with an effort by the government of Laos to switch agricultural practices from crop rotation to large-scale cash crop cultivation. Such rice and other cash crop cultivation requires lowland areas for farming, which is expensive to acquire because it is already limited in Laos and made further scarcer by the construction of dams in lowland areas. Indeed, although the populations forcefully displaced are often in some of Laos’ poorest regions, switching to monoculture farming requires significant upfront investment, forcing many displaced farmers to go into debt in order to switch their agricultural practices. Furthermore, monoculture farming places farmers at risk of price shocks in the market and pestilence. The government of Laos must pay specific attention to the struggles that the rural population faces as a result of the state-enacted forced displacement in the name of hydropower projects.

Laos’ hydropower proliferation projects follow a prototypical narrative of unequal core-periphery relations, with the governmental elites ignore the impact of dam construction projects on local income and food sources in order to profit off of foreign investment in hydropower projects. While energy from Laos’ dams sold to other nations could yield 17 billion dollars in profits, the damage to the Mekong River could result in costs as high as 66 billion dollars. Scholars criticize international institutions such as the World Bank and the Asian Development bank, along with private investors, for ignoring the needs of local communities in favor of their own profits. Indeed, the Laotian government is similarly at fault, for its model of dam construction relies almost entirely on foreign investment, and the government consistently proves itself unable to ensure that such foreign investors adequately account for social and environmental concerns. Still, the government of Laos continues to pursue such projects because they view them as crucial to maintaining Laos’ growth rate, which is currently characterized as “a star in South East Asia,” at roughly 7 percent. One cannot begrudge Laotian growth aspirations, yet growth-oriented projects such as dam construction must benefit the Laotian people, rather than lining the pockets of governmental officials. The high growth rates enabled by new projects such as hydropower that capitalize on Laos’ factor endowments will evaporate unless the profits of such projects are used to fight poverty and develop human capital resources. Troublingly, Professor Martin Stuart-Fox of Queensland University characterizes the government of Laos as “massively corrupt,” elucidating that “if you are the top of the party you get a lot of money, and there’s a lot of Chinese money coming in, of course, and there are top people in the politburo who are extremely wealthy.” While Laos transitions to a market economy, it remains a single-party political system, allowing those in power to benefit from their privileged position. The Laotian government argues that the revenues of energy sales from dams will finance anti-poverty and social welfare programs. This is a sound policy in theory, but in practice the gross majority of power produced by the dams goes to the foreign companies that financed the dams, and is then reimported back into Laos at a higher price, resulting in electricity prices tripling for some citizens in Laos. After a catastrophic dam collapse in late July of this year, the government supposedly issued a moratorium and nationwide review on dam construction, yet the developers constructing the Pak Lay and Pak Beng dams reported that they received no instructions to halt construction. Just days after the moratorium’s release, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam agreed to begin the regional consultation process for the Pak Lay dam, a clear indicator that the government of Laos does not plan to end its dam construction any time soon. Laos itself does not require greater hydropower to meet its domestic electricity demand, with energy sales already constituting 30 percent of its national exports. The lack of domestic need for hydropower signifies that the construction of new dams is aimed at foreign markets, thus involving foreign investors who will likely offer monetary incentives to the officials approving such projects, while the rural population continues to bear the burden of new dam construction. Obstacles to Laos’ goals of expanding energy exports may cause the hardship inflicted upon the rural population to be entirely unnecessary. While Laos and Thailand signed an understanding concerning expanding Laotian energy sales to Thailand through 2036, experts caution that Thailand already meets its energy needs, and thus may not be a sustainable market for future energy sales. In March, Thailand retracted its plans to purchase energy from the planned Pak Beng dam, the construction of which was predicated on an agreement to sell 90 percent of the energy it produced to Thailand. The Laotian National Policy on the Environmental and Social Sustainability of the Hydropower Sector outlines that all projects must include full public disclosure of the dams’ impact, yet without a free press and with Laos ranked near the bottom of global corruption indexes, there is little indication that the government of Laos will change its course and properly account for the struggles of the rural population.

Inequitable land titling regulations in Laos exemplify both the preferential treatment of foreign investors and the dearth of Laotian governmental capacity to protect both rural populations and the environment around them. Scholars in Energy Research & Social Science elucidate that without “stronger supervision and conditionality for project implementation,” elites will be able to capture the benefits of dam construction. Indeed, rather than protect rural populations, regulatory apparatuses can also further disenfranchise rural populations. When planning new dam construction, the government is able to designate land as ‘underutilized’ in order to justify the forced displacement of the local population. Given that since the governmental transformation in 1975, the Government of Laos controls all land in the nation, thus requiring that the government give titles for all land use. The Laotian Land Titling Program gives permanent land usage rights to those in urban areas, which cannot be easily withdrawn. In contrast, the Land and Forest Allocation policy in Laos grants rural residents temporary land use rights. As a result of this, not only are rural residents not secure in their homes due to the temporary nature of their land use permissions, but the process to acquire those permissions is also more lengthy. In 2015, the Government of Laos issued barely half of the number of titles that they intended to. Even when titles are issued to the rural population, “...due to corruption, titles may simply be ignored and land taken regardless of titling schemes that involve local land and resource users,” according to the NGO Global Witness. Global Witness estimates that private companies leased between 1.1 million and 3.5 million hectares of land, affecting 18 percent of the villages in Laos.  As previously discussed, the forced changes in rural agricultural practices make farmers more vulnerable to crops’ price fluctuations and harvest failure, which may lead to ‘distress sales,’ wherein the residents of an area are forced to sell of their land to survive. For foreign investors, on the other hand, Special Economic Zones grant land at a far more expedited rate to foreign investment projects. Additionally, new dam building plans such as the Build-Own-Operate-Transfer scheme result in foreign investors controlling the majority share in many newly constructed dams. This significantly erodes the Laotian government’s ability to regulate the effects of dams. The Laotian government only owned 25 percent of the Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy dam, which collapsed in summer 2018. This precedent is increasingly worrying, given that the Laotian government will control as little as 10 percent of the shares in some new dam projects. Researchers write in the journal Global Environmental Change that “ownership and finance is increasingly private and less sovereign as use rights and decision making power over the exploitation of natural resources have been centralized and privatized into the hands of a consortium that has financial interests in maximizing power production.” The trend of decreasing Laotian government ownership in damming projects and the preferential treatment given to foreign investors in land titling demonstrates the need for stronger governmental oversight in the planning of new dam projects.

If Laos aims to transform itself into the renewable hydro-power engine of Southeast Asia, then foreign investment is the gear that allows that engine to turn, but derisory regulatory oversight allows the interests of foreign investors to supercede those of the local populations. Laos’ insufficient capacity to construct dams independently results in 80 percent of the funding for dam projects originating from foreign investors. The demonstrated interest of foreign investors creates new pressure on the Laotian government to use hydropower projects as a catalyst for greater national growth, resulting in greater numbers of dams. The subversive power of foreign capital shifts the Government of Laos’ focus from specific goals such as poverty reduction through dam development to the act of dam construction itself, due to the monetary incentives for officials to support such foreign-funded construction projects. Foreign investment is a large enough component of the Laotian economy that different groups emerged with the Laotian one party government, with a faction of older party members and party members from the South of Laos favoring Vietnamese investment, and a faction of younger party members and members from the North favoring Chinese investment. Serious Laotian infrastructure projects even outside of dam-building exist with both Vietnam and China. A newly announced highway will link the Laotian capital, Vientiane, with the Vietnamese capital, Hanoi. Entirely landlocked, Laos also gained access to the Vung Ang seaport in Vietnam after the two governments signed a joint agreement, with a railway between Vientiane and the port projected to cost 5 billion dollars. In 2013, China surpassed Vietnam to become Laos’ largest foreign investor, with China footing the bill for the most expensive infrastructure project in Laos, a railway connecting China and Laos, which will cost, 6 billion dollars, half of Laos’ GDP. China also funds the construction of the Pak Beng dam, with a Chinese firm to control the sales of the gross majority of energy from the dam.  Singapore is also involved in Laotian investment, spending more than a quarter million dollars in the nation. As public debt reached 60 percent of the Laotian GDP in 2017, combined with plateauing demand for the energy produced by Laos’ dams, fears arise about if Laos will ever be able to repay this debt, and about the influence that Laos’ lenders may wield on Laotian policy decisions. The now collapsed Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy dam was constructed by a South Korean company, with Thai and Laotian partners. Shalmali Guttal, executive director of Focus on the Global South, argues that the dangers of the Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy dam were sidelined in favor of corporate ambitions, positing that “The risks are masked to make the investment worth it.” The Laotian Prime Minister, Thongloun Sisoulith, aims to combat corruption such as that which enabled the construction of dangerous dam projects during his tenure, yet his administration’s former finance minister was arrested along with four other senior officials for giving out bonds for infrastructure projects that never existed. Thongloun took important steps by advising an audit of public officials’ finances, and banning the opening of new banana plantations and the export of timber to China, both of which caused significant pollution and environmental destruction. While Thongloun’s stated belief that “we can have foreign investment, but we must share the benefits. There should be fairness,” is encouraging, Laos must strengthen its government oversight of foreign investment projects and enforcement of protective regulations in order to achieve such fairness.

The Mekong crosses the borders of six nations, and any change to it will inherently affect the other riparian nations, yet the Laotian government worryingly circumvents the processes of regional regulatory mechanisms. The Mekong Agreement established the Mekong River Commission in 1995, aimed at analyzing the transnational impacts of projects on the river. Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, and Vietnam all signed the agreement, with China and Myanmar not joining the agreement in an effort to escape its jurisdiction. This effort succeeded, with 8 Chinese dams already on the Mekong and 20 more soon to come, none of which were subject to approval by the MRC. This exhibits a clear weakness in the MRC, for it lacks the enforcement power necessary to ensure that nations adhere to its directives. Laos’ unilateral decision to proceed with the Xayaburi dam’s construction illustrates this institutional weakness, for while Article 5.4.3 of the MRC’s procedures states that the committee of nations must jointly approve a proposed project, Laos decided to begin the dam’s construction without the approval of its fellow riparian nations. Laos instead cited a report by a Swiss company that used more than 40 still-unfinished studies to falsely argue that concerns about the dam were adequately addressed. This is a further example of corporate interests subverting regulatory mechanisms and endangering both the local ecosystems and population. The copied and pasted report that Laos submitted to the MRC was at best a tacit attempt to conform the regional body’s rules. The lack of concern for the regional impact of national dam projects sets a worrying precedent for the future of the Mekong and the communities that rely on it.

On July 23rd, 2018, an auxiliary dam at the Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy hydropower complex burst, releasing a thunderous wave of 5 billion cubic meters of water that claimed 36 lives, with 98 people still missing, and destroyed the homes of more than 7,000 people. Less than a year before the Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy collapse, the Nam Ao dam broke after the company constructing it did not follow standard practices, yet regulatory enforcement did not expand following that previous collapse. The collapse affected 13 villages, and reportedly destroyed 95 percent of the homes in some of the villages affected. The man made crisis has lasting repercussions, with families losing vast food stores that would have fed them for months, and with waist-deep mud preventing those whose homes survived from returning. The CEO of the MRC expressed hope that following this most recent collapse, sustainable and less contentious paths for development along the Mekong could be explored. Yet, just weeks after the collapse, the MRC began the consultation process for the proposed Pak Lay dam. This raises concerns about the Laotian government’s ability to protect its citizens from predatory business practices, for the dam’s builders knew that something was wrong before it collapsed. The Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy project was previously criticized in 2013 for its inadequate public consultation, environmental planning, and impact assessments. The support provided to those displaced by the dam’s original construction also proved insufficient, with those displaced without adequate access to food, water, and new land. Following the dam’s collapse, citizens criticized the government’s efforts to conceal the disaster through social media posts, given that all other forms of media are tightly censored. Authorities also failed to notify Cambodian officials about the incoming water, with 1200 Cambodians displaced by the dam collapse. The effects of the collapse stretched as far as the Mekong Delta in Vietnam, where farmers’ fields were damaged. The question remains if this disastrous loss of life and the monumental crossborder impacts will prove sufficient impetus for the Laotian government to reconsider its hydroelectric ambitions. Former analyst for the U.S. Department of Energy, François Le Scornet, expounds that “..hydropower development is too important for the political power in place to significantly challenge the overall development plan,” demonstrating the conflict between the political motivation for dams’ construction and their sometimes-lethal impact on rural communities. The widespread impacts of the Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy auxiliary dam’s collapse should serve as a call for Laos to reexamine its policy of forcefully displacing its citizens to serve foreign corporate interests.

The former vice minister of energy and mines who was behind Laos’ unilateral decision to proceed with the controversial Xayaburi dam responded to news of the Xe-Pian Xe-Namnoy collapse by saying that “For me, it is for the better. We have done so many projects; it is time we reassess.” Such reassessment is critical to ensuring Laos’ prolonged success. Renewable energy is an admirable aspiration, but it must be constructed in a way that does not unfairly inflict harm on the rural population through forced displacement, insufficient available land, and environmental destruction. The government of Laos must develop regulatory mechanisms capable of standing up to the powerful capital of foreign investors. Furthermore, the Laotian government must follow the procedures of the MRC, to assuage the transboundary impacts of its rapid dam proliferation. Laos as a whole can benefit from dam building, but only if the concerns of local communities are addressed, environmental impacts are analyzed, regional partners are engaged in discussion, and above all else, if the proceeds of dam building benefit the communities where dams are built rather than corrupt officials.

The Ganga Herself: India’s Most Critical Environmental Disaster

No river in the world is as religiously revered, as economically crucial or as devastatingly polluted as the Ganges [Ganga] River.  Former Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru proudly declared that, “The Ganga, especially, is the river of India, beloved of her people, round which are intertwined her racial memories, her hopes and fears, her songs of triumph, her victories and her defeats. She has been a symbol of India’s age-long culture and civilization, ever changing, ever-flowing, Ganga.” Yet, the Ganga is sadly changing for the worst, as pollution continues to dirty the sacred waters. The personified goddess, is becoming unrecognizable with pollution levels reaching unprecedented levels. The Ganges, is arguably the most important river in the world not only because of the water supply and economic accessibility, but for the cultural significance. Ganges water is in many Hindu houses around the world and for massive pilgrimages to cities such as Varanasi or Allahabad the river is foundational to these cities themselves.

The Ganges river runs more than 1500 miles from the Himalaya mountains to the Bay of Bengal. As of 2015, the river itself supports 500 million people, and accounts for twenty-five percent of India’s water resources. The use of the river spans from Hindu religious rituals, irrigation of crops, daily water supply and a habitat for many animals. The Ganges is essential to life of many people around the world along with those who live closest to the banks of the river.

Wading Through the Waters in Varanasi

From early European visitors who encountered the murky, muddy waters to locals who bathe daily at the ghats in Varanasi, India, the cleanliness of the Ganges has always been a question. Whereas early visitors were concerned about the mud, today the level of pollution has increased dramatically that the Ganges is the fourth most polluted river in the world.

Victor Mallet, in his book, River of Life, River of Death: The Ganges and India’s Future, takes the reader on a journey on the Ganges from mouth to delta. Mallet states that it is critical to consider the massive scale that this river supports, 700 million people (a little less than the total population of Europe). With every use of the Ganges, the toxic water directly or circuitously impacts about one tenth of the world’s population. From providing much needed water supply in the irrigation of crops in Uttar Pradesh to the fish collected for consumption in West Bengal, to the daily ritual dip in cities such as Allahabad, Rishikesh or Varanasi  – when in contact with the river, a once rich resource, now can have devastating even deadly impacts.

Industrial Waste and Domestic Waste

Industrial and domestic waste are the chief culprits in polluting the Ganges River, especially in cities like Varanasi. The water is often tested in Varanasi at various places and the findings are not surprising. From industrial waste, high levels arsenic and mercury are above permissible levels, along with an array of various other poisons. Mallet reported that India has no standard for toxins found in sediment. So when testing the impact of Ganges water, the samples are compared to the international toxicity standards for drinking water, which are stricter than sediment standards but nonetheless a base comparison. Researchers found in the Ganges sediment “796 part per million of chromium and 4.7 ppm of mercury, thousands of times above the international toxicity standards for drinking water. Research done by Anand Singh and Jitendra Pandey of Banaras Hindu University found that the concentration of heavy metals only steadily increases downstream, becoming more dangerous as the river flows. In 2017,  65 percent of the water stations, that had data available, were at unsatisfactory levels. In Bihar, that number rose to 76 percent of the water tested was unsatisfactory – “with no station reporting satisfactory water quality”.

The problem: the sewage capacity for many treatment plants in Varanasi and other cities is only able to treat half of the sewage that is generated. Anil Kumar Singh, an official at the UP Pollution Control Board, stated that, ‘Treatment capacity [in Varanasi] is about a quarter of the total discharge’. The current infrastructure simply cannot handle the sheer amount of it all especially as India’s population continues to grow.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi has taken upon himself to make cleaning the Ganges his personal mission and also divine purpose. Modi stated that, “Ma Ganga is screaming for help. She is saying, ‘There must be one of my sons who will come and pull me out of this filth’ … There are many tasks that perhaps God has set for me”. However very little has been done beyond the superficial.  While personally living in Varanasi, Prime Minister Modi has visited twice, and both times major temporary construction has occurred before his visit. The first visit in fall 2017 included the covering of the Assi river, a small river that flows into the Ganges. The Assi River is better known by locals as the Assi sewer, that is filled with high levels of plastics caught between bridges as well as so much human waste that it gives off a powerful stench. The second time, was when French President Macron visited, in Spring 2018 and Assi Ghat was completely swept, resurfaced  and even had a red carpet along the steps leading down to the river. Such superficial and surface level action is often described in India as ‘putting lipstick on a woman with a dirty sari’. Resources spent on pretending the problem does not exist but never addressing the core issues.

Who’s Doing What

The local government, central government and non-governmental organizations(NGOs) has taken action to address this issue, however, resulting in little to no progress.

Local Government

The local initiative for Clean Ganga in Varanasi reported that most change has been on superficial levels. The change that has occurred: the addition of 3,000 trash cans along the ghats, nighttime street sweeping and a garbage disposal plant, is much needed, but has been having no major impacts. The biggest change is the addition of two sewage disposal projects still in the building stages. Little progress has been seen made on any noticeable differences in the water quality, and many people feel that the condition of the water is continuously getting worse. With the end of the monsoon and increased water levels, the concentration of the pollutants is lower, but now they are just defused until the water levels lower.

Central Government

The Finance Minister, Arun Jaitely stated in the Union budget of 2018-2019 that the Central Government initiative, Namami Gange, has completed 47 of the 187, and the rest are in “various stages of execution”. The Namami Gange projects seek to address: “sewage treatment infrastructure, river surface cleaning, afforestation, industrial effluent monitoring, making villages on the banks of Ganges open defecation free, riverfront development, among others. The bulk of the projects sanctioned are sewage treatment plants”. While this governmental action is exactly what needs to happen, both local and central government are showing to be ineffective at the implementation of these programs. While the Finance Minister stated that 47 projects have been completed, data suggest otherwise. The National Mission for Clean Ganga reported that only 18 projects have been completed out of the 95 sanctioned with no project being completed in Bihar, Delhi, Haryana, and Jharkhand. Namami Gange, was launched in 2014, with 20,000 core equivalent to about 3.52 million USD allocated for the project.

Non-Governmental Organizations

The Sankat Mochan Temple started a campaign, later an organization, called the Sankat Mochan Foundation whose slogan was “not one drop of sewage”. The founder Veer Bhadra Mishra, the temple’s senior priest, was also a water engineer. Spending years lobbying politicians and government authorities to work towards addressing the problem of sewage pollution in Varanasi. Toward the end of his life, Veer became disheartened by his extraneous 40 years of campaigning and very little action done by the government. At his death in 2013, his son took over religious responsibilities as well as the foundation. While passionate about the work his father started, he continues to meet politicians in hopes of persuading them into action.      

The Sankat Mochan foundation along with an array of other NGOs have campaigned and work towards addressing the need of the cleaning of the Ganges but the little action that they do has had very little impact. The work that these NGOs have done is valuable – but ineffective. Inquiry being conducted by Fullbright researcher, Olivia Trombadore has found that the Sankat Mocha Foundation tests the water in Varanasi for an array of harmful substances, yet these recordings have done very little beyond continuing to provide evidence that pollution exists. Providing concrete data is essential in the process, but not enough work is being done.  In an interview with Vinod, a wood seller who has spent time researching pollution levels, he even stated that, “a lot of money is going into a slogan[targeting the Sankat Mochan Foundation]”.

The common theme amongst the local government, central government and NGOs, is that inaction and ineffective action is the course of action. The problem is known and solutions are in place – but why is there little to no change in the condition of the river? This answer lies in the lack of collaboration between the local government, central government and NGOs. Rather than working together, each entity focuses on one particularity. Which is resulting in the expansion of the sewer treatment plan but no simultaneous growth to the infrastructure of the sewage lines. Resulting in the potential of more sewage to be treated but falls short when crumbling infrastructure makes it impossible for the sewage to even reach the treatment plant.

Solutions

A local solution for Varanasi could be the addition of simple programs such as the publishing of data and informing the public about the dire state of the Ganges. With renown Banaras Hindu University, combining resources could be both a project for the university and further inform the public. Free water testing for households with questionable water sources is another implementation that would help improve the community with little investment done by the Sankat Mochan Foundation.      

The Central Government needs to simply better implement and accountability to the programs they have allocated funds to as well as sanctioned. An alternative solution was offered in March of 2017, when Indian High Court of Uttarakhand state declared the Ganges and Yamuna river legal status as people . It was believed that giving the rivers rights would serve in helping conserve and protect the sacred waters. However, just four months later, the Indian Supreme Court determined that the cause was legally unsustainable. On October 11, 2018, G.D. Agrawal, a renown Indian environmental professor, engineer and activist, who dedicated his life to the cause of the Ganga, died after a four month hunger strike. Agrawa’s self-sacrifice was an attempt to pressure the Indian government to take immediate action to rescue the Ganges by writing a list of demands to PM Modi. A governmental minister was sent to meet Agrawal; he refused give up his fast and his demands were not met.

International solutions have been seen in 2014  Kyoto-Varanasi partner city agreement in which the city of Varanasi, India and Kyoto, Japan cultural exchange as well as the mingling of local university and solutions to environmental problems and cultural preservation with development. The main intention of turning Varanasi into a 21st city that maintains the deep historical traditions. A major focus was the implementation of Japanese water cleaning technology to be introduced and used in Varanasi. Little evidence of this has been seen in the impact of the partner city agreement.

The most damaging part of all this information is how few Indians understand what is happening each time they turn on the faucet or buy vegetables at the local markets. The degree and level that pollution is at, especially in the context of the Ganges, is practically invisible to the public. The information is not hidden, rather the information is not often sought out by the general populous. India is a classist society, those who are being impacted the most, the poor, do not have water filters in their house, regularly bathe, wash clothes and dishes in the Ganges and are the ones who do not have the accessibility to the information they desperately need. Information that could save their life. Pollution of the Ganges is as momentous as the mountains in which the river comes from, but is on the verge of becoming an environmental massacre.

The Balancing Act: Preserving National Sovereignty in ASEAN while Promoting Regional Growth and Protecting Migrant Rights

As a regional organization, the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) prides itself on forging its own course, yet ASEAN should not allow this fierce independence to inhibit the achievement of its economic and humanitarian goals. Roughly 40% of all migrants who originate from within ASEAN remain within the nations of the regional organization. This arises from patterns of cyclical migration stemming from the temporary nature of the low-paid, low-skilled work that drives the majority of migration in the region. Such transient labor forces result in a population of nearly 7 million intra-ASEAN migrants, constituting almost 10% of the region’s total population. Analysis of ASEAN’s labor force by the International Labour Organization reveals that an amalgamated sum of three-fifths of the total working population in ASEAN work in vulnerable employment. Vulnerably employed workers lack formal work arrangements, and thus lack guaranteed minimum wages or safe working conditions. Of the total 179 million workers in vulnerable employment in ASEAN, 92 million do not earn enough to escape poverty. The migrant population faces additional challenges, for, while formal migration channels are open to high-skilled professionals, the low-skilled migrant population that composes the majority of all migrants lacks the same migration opportunities. This gap in regional migration policy creates large numbers of undocumented migrants. Furthermore, the lack of adequate migration policy endangers undocumented low-skilled migrant by forcing them to work for exploitative employers who hire migrant to work in hazardous working conditions for substandard wages. Current structural limitations and disparate national priorities impede ASEAN’s ability to protect migrant rights, and thus impedes communal growth. Understanding the inimical contrast between ASEAN nations’ distinct national goals and ASEAN’s collective goals allows the reader to understand that binding supranational migrant rights protections are a prerequisite for regional growth.

Due to ASEAN’s organizational structure, which requires full consensus to pass any agreement, and ASEAN nations’ strong emphasis on independent sovereignty, ASEAN lags behind the rest of the international community in terms of humanitarian law. While the United Nations General Assembly passed the International Convention on the Protection of the Rights of All Migrant Workers and Members of Their Families in 1990, ASEAN took its first steps towards cohesive regional migration policy in 2007 with the release of the “Cebu Declaration,” or the Declaration on the Protection and Promotion of the Rights of Migrant Workers. It took another 10 years after this declaration for ASEAN to adopt the Manila Consensus on the Protection and Promotion of Rights of Migrant Workers, signing the declaration in 2017. Scholars often laud ASEAN’s subalternity, noting that the regional organization fights to preserve its postcolonial autonomy through its lack of supranational authority that could infringe on member states’ sovereignty by enforcing external norms. In order to maintain regional priority cohesion without supranational authority, ASEAN periodically releases a statement of its community vision. The most recent community vision outlines in its fourth goal a desire to “…realise a rules-based, people-oriented, people-centred ASEAN Community, where our peoples enjoy human rights and fundamental freedoms…” and, in its tenth goal, a desire to build “a highly integrated and cohesive regional economy that supports sustained high economic growth by increasing trade, investment, and job creation…” with the eventual goal of creating an ASEAN common market. An ASEAN common market would entail the free movement of labor, goods, services, and capital, and in 2015 ASEAN founded the ASEAN Economic Community (AEC) with this goal in mind. Efforts such as the Manila Consensus and the AEC provide clear examples of the potential benefits of heightened communal action, yet they also underscore the difficulty in reaching decisive action in an organization that relies on consensus. Disparate national priorities often become roadblocks to effective action, leaving important issues to be addressed solely at the state level. Indonesia, Thailand, and the Philippines prefer the idea of more robust and centralized ASEAN institutions, while Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, and Myanmar prioritize protecting their autonomy. These incongruent goals hamper ASEAN’s efficacy on issues that require collective action. ASEAN adopted the Vientiane Action Programme (VAP) at its tenth summit in 2004, aimed at streamlining ASEAN integration; however, while the VAP commits to addressing ASEAN’s lack of a human rights framework, it is limited in function to research and monitoring. Many ASEAN member states have fragmented national identities, which, when combined with a strong memory of external influence during ASEAN nations’ colonial histories, results in a strong emphasis on national sovereignty. The ramifications of this sentiment are elucidated by Pranoto Iskandar of the Institute for Migrant Rights, who postulates that “the predominant activism has willfully disengaged itself from the international concept of human rights and embraced a ‘nationalist’ conception that has eschewed non-citizens’ entitlement to human rights in the domestic legal systems.” As a result, national self-interest often mars ASEAN humanitarian efforts, with the ASEAN Community Vision 2025 specifically identifying the free movement of “skilled labour, [and] business persons” when discussing an ASEAN common market, promoting the rights of upper-class migrants that nations desire while ignoring the rights of low-skilled migrants. National self-interest further complicates consensus on regional migration compacted by stratifying the interests of nations that primarily send migrants, and nations that primarily receive migrants, each of which prioritize their own distinct objectives. The current Manila Consensus privileges the rights of wealthy migrants, such as educated professionals and tourists, while failing to adequately protect the rights of the low-skilled workers who constitute the majority of the migrant population. Although chapter 7 of the Manila Consensus pledges to create an “action plan” on protecting migrant workers’ rights, ASEAN does not command the adequate enforcement mechanisms to implement such an action plan. To maintain its strength, the organization must chart a course that both circumvents interventionist human rights regimes that privilege norms exported by the West and avoids relying on postcolonial elites who mobilize on national autonomy for personal gain for human rights enforcement. ASEAN can preserve its postcolonial autonomy while simultaneously enhancing its subalternity by developing a new structure for regional cooperation that effectively protects migrant rights without imposing external norms on nations. This new structure can take the form of regulatory regionalism, which allows for nations to adhere to mutually agreed upon rules under the auspices of their own sovereign governments. A migrant rights framework with binding language will fulfill the ASEAN Community Vision 2025’s fifth and tenth goals by not only protect ASEAN citizens’ human rights, but also by enabling greater communal growth through regional economic integration.

The ‘ASEAN Way’ of operating purely on consensus is indeed a triumph of subalternity, yet, when combined with sending nations’ and receiving nations’ disparate migration policy goals, it inhibits the creation of an effective migrant rights framework. Current policies problematically distinguish between professional migrants and low-skilled migrants, restricting the rights of low-skilled migrants. The low-skilled migrants denied sufficient legal protection by current laws already work in precarious environs, due to the lack of labor rights that innately comes with their undocumented migration status. Low-skilled migrants in ASEAN endure high migration costs, lengthy travel times, and complex migration paths, even within the legitimate migration frameworks, and inadequate regional guidance exacerbates these tolls for irregular migrants. Article 56 of the Manila Consensus outlines that governments will, “for humanitarian reasons, closely cooperate to resolve the case of migrant workers who, through no fault of their own, have subsequently become undocumented,” however ambiguity in the definition of ‘humanitarian reasons’ imperils migrants by leaving interpretation open to national governments. The focus of the Manila Consensus, as a whole, illustrates its limitations, for the rights outlined in the document only apply to documented migrant workers, bypassing the majority of the migrant population that is undocumented. While drafting the document, the Philippines proposed that the consensus should be ‘morally binding,’ while Indonesia suggested that the document should instead be ‘legally binding,’ and this schism resulted in a final consensus that is neither morally nor legally binding. This is but one example of the difficulties rooted in operating on consensus, yet, interestingly, both the Philippines and Indonesia are primarily labor-sending nations, and the majority of conflicts on migration policy emerge between labor-sending and labor-receiving nations. Migration within ASEAN falls into two normative patterns, with Laura Allison-Reumann of the Nanyang Technological University in Singapore explaining that “the first involves the Greater Mekong Subregion with workers from Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, and Vietnam primarily moving to Thailand for work; and the second involves Brunei, Malaysia, and Singapore as destination countries for workers from Indonesia and the Philippines.” The priorities of sending and receiving states diverge because sending states focus on the human rights of their citizens abroad, while receiving states focus on the economic implications of hosting migrant workers. State policies diverge due to the disparate national discourses surrounding migration, with some nations portraying their migrant worker populations abroad as victims and others portraying them as heroes, resulting in different policy approaches towards worker rights. Furthermore, the Cebu Declaration and the Manila Consensus both counterproductively stratify the obligations of sending and receiving nations, rather than emphasizing the shared responsibility of all nations to protect the human rights of migrants, both those migrating from them and those migrating into them. Even if the Manila Consensus defined specific national obligations, the lack of binding language makes the agreement virtually superficial. Although Myanmar is a signatory to the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which guarantees children the right to nationality and registration at birth, as well as a signatory to the ASEAN Human Rights Declaration, the Rohingya minority in Myanmar is routinely denied citizenship and are the target of rampant human rights abuses, demonstrating the weakness of nonbinding agreements. Undocumented migrants must be afforded the same human rights as migrants who travel through formal channels, and these rights can only be protected by legally binding language.

Policies that differentiate between high-skilled and low-skilled workers impede human rights promotion because they provide institutional justification for neglecting the needs of populations already prone to dangerous working conditions and exploitative employers. ASEAN member states enacted eight Mutual Recognition Arrangements (MRAs) that expedite the migration process for professions deemed to be especially desirable, such as doctors and engineers. While the AEC should aspire to achieving free migration for all of its citizens, the majority of all ASEAN migration is from the six poorer nations to the Singapore, Brunei, Malaysia, and Thailand, and is predominantly by low-skilled workers. Without legally binding protections, these low-skilled migrants are at risk of abuse, and the economic benefit they confer will diminish. Article 57 of the Manila Consensus provides hope for a more robust migration framework, recommending that nations “take measures to prevent and curb the flow of undocumented migrant workers and explore cooperation and coordination among ASEAN Member States in providing assistance to those who are in need of protection.” For such an agreement to manifest itself, motivated leadership or widespread interest is needed. The Philippines chaired ASEAN in 2007 when the Cebu Declaration was signed and in 2017 when the Manila Consensus was signed, and this makes sense given that the Philippines sends the largest number of labor migrants worldwide, providing the motivated leadership necessary. Currently, however, Singapore occupies the ASEAN Chairmanship, and migration is not one of the issues Singapore identified as is focus. Thus, the nations of ASEAN must recognize the benefits attached to more liberal migration policies and migrant rights protections in order to achieve the widespread interest necessary to adopt a new framework with binding language.

One such benefit is the economic growth that a transient regional labor force facilitates, providing sound justification for ASEAN nations to pursue a binding migrant rights framework that will enable greater worker migration. The Manila Consensus acknowledges that migrants are the “driving force of economic growth in ASEAN,” as expounded by Khampheng Saysompheng, Minister of Labour and Social Welfare Ministry of Lao PDR and Chair of ASEAN Labour Ministers Meeting. The economic growth already experienced within the region is unevenly distributed, tied to the uneven distribution of migrants throughout the region. Unemployment in Thailand is at 1.5%, while it is at 10.9% in the Philippines, and three quarters of Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) in the region flows into Singapore, Thailand, and Malaysia, leaving the other seven nations in ASEAN to split the remaining quarter. Even within nations, the benefits of growth are not equally shared, with women, minorities, and rural communities given short shrift. Despite these disparities, both sending and receiving nations enjoy some level of economic benefit from migration, indicating that a comprehensive and binding migration framework would benefit the region as a whole by increasing migrant flows. Although not ASEAN members, Japan and Taiwan both illustrate the correlation between migration and investment, following what Japanese scholars call the ‘flying geese’ model of development, wherein one nation experiences growth that is a catalyst for foreign investment, and thus becomes the target of migrant flows from neighboring nations, and these regional migrant flows build economic linkages that enhance the prosperity of both nations. The arguments against liberal migration policies such as free labor movement within a common market hinge on the influx of migrants reducing the number of jobs available to locals and lowering wages in already low pay low-skilled work. In reality, data from the World Bank verifies that migration doesn’t depress wages in receiving countries. Indeed, liberal migration policies in a binding consensus would also enable firms to attract populations with specific desired skill sets to migrate to them, allowing nations in the region to build their competitive advantages, and thus all the nations in ASEAN would benefit from gains through regional trade due to nations’ disparate specializations. In addition, a freer flow of labor, goods, services, and capital through an AEC common market would provide more benefit through the jobs created by the economic growth it enables than the detriments perceived to be brought by heightened migration. The World Bank postulates that any ‘brain drain’ incurred within ASEAN due to more liberal migration would be offset by ‘brain circulation’ wherein educated workers move regionally to where their skills are in demand. The regional trade enabled by free labor migration of all types of workers is key to communal growth, with World Bank data demonstrating that “…a 1 percent increase in the bilateral stock of migrants increases bilateral trade by 0.11 percent, though there does not seem to be a difference in the pro-trade effects of low- and high-skilled migrants.” The relationship between regional growth and liberal regional migration is clearly illustrated above, and ASEAN can benefit from such regional growth and quicken its progress towards a common market with a binding regional migration policy.

Achieving both stronger migrant rights protection and greater regional growth does not require the supranational institutions that ASEAN is so reticent to establish, but it does require accountability for member states, which can be provided by regulatory regionalism. A regulatory regionalism structure is multinational and flexible, allowing it to adapt to the demands of the region. Laura Allison-Reumann summarizes the applicability of regulatory regionalism to ASEAN, describing that “regulatory regionalism also lends itself to a more favorable operationalization of ASEAN's foundational norms, given that it does not aspire to be a supranational entity that may threaten national sovereignty.” Thus, nations can align their national agendas through the use of binding language without any greater authority figure. The ASEAN structure allows for sweeping government powers to be exercised in order to promote development, yet the consensus format often results in nations kicking contentious issues down the line rather than addressing them. ASEAN’s attitude towards supranational authority originates from the first three regional behavioral principles asserted in the foundational Treaty of Amity and Cooperation and reasserted in the Bangkok Declaration, respect for state sovereignty, freedom from external interference, and non-interference in internal affairs over all others, yet the Treaty of Amity and Cooperation also highlights that states will adhere to certain norms. This commitment to regional norms enables the efficacy of a binding regulatory regional agreement, transcending the limitations that come with a lack of supranational governing bodies. ASEAN’s inability to enforce its norms while it lacks both supranational authority and binding agreements stems from its emphasis on noninterference, for in 2010 the Thai government rejected efforts for an ASEAN Intergovernmental Commission on Human Rights (AICHR) fact finding mission to investigate its political crisis, and in Myanmar the rampant human rights abuses enacted against the Rohingya are decried but not addressed. The organization defends its noninterference by lauding the broad economic power wielded by its governments, for, as described by Aguirre and Pietropaoli, “While this may weaken ASEAN’s human rights legitimacy, it must be seen within the context that places priority on regional economic development and the maintenance of domestic sovereignty.” Yet, human rights enforcement and economic development are far from mutually exclusive. Indeed, the AEC can enhance its growth by extending protections to all levels of migrant workers, for while low-skilled work such as agriculture, fishing, domestic work, manufacturing, and construction account for 87% of ASEAN’s regional migration, the AEC’s MRAs cover only 1% of member states’ employment. The resulting irregular migration flows result in a massive stateless migrant population within ASEAN, all of whom lack adequate legal protection due to their precarious migration status. Thailand and Myanmar combine to host 10% of the world’s stateless population, and a lack of citizenship documentation precludes effective workforce utilization, with Thai scholars Palapan Kampana and Adam Richard Tanielian positing that “statelessness is an economic death sentence in a world on the move.” Thailand and Malaysia attempted to address the problem of stateless migrants by enacting 10 amnesty programs since 1992, yet this ad hoc approach to migration policy impairs ASEAN’s ability to communally negotiate with external bodies due to the lack of regional migration policy. When Singapore assumed the ASEAN Chairmanship, it highlighted its goal of improving business opportunities, and one way to achieve this goal is implementing a binding regulatory regional agreement on migration. Regulatory regionalism allows ASEAN to maintain its subalternity and avoid supranational intervention while codifying migrant rights, thereby enhancing regional growth.

A binding consensus agreement in the form of regulatory regionalism will protect migrant rights in a way that the current ‘ASEAN Way’ cannot parallel. Protecting migrant rights in ASEAN confers benefits to the migrants whose rights are protect and to the nations whose growth potential is enhanced. A unified regional migration policy allows nations to attract desired workers, thereby allowing national economies to specialize. When combined with the reduction of regional trade barriers, specialized regional economies benefit the entire region. Furthermore, Foreign Direct Investment will be enhanced by such unified migration policy, and the region will also be able to more effectively negotiate with external nations. ASEAN does not need to cave to building supranational institutions to protect its migrants and achieve greater regional growth, but it requires enforceable human rights policy. Regulatory regionalism with binding language will protect migrants and enable growth without infringing on national sovereignty, thus preserving ASEAN’s subalternity while simultaneously achieving ASEAN’s Community Vision goals and making strides towards a regional common market.