The Trouble With “the Global South” - Comfort Ero Foreign Affairs

 The Trouble With “the Global South”

What the West Gets Wrong About the Rest

By Comfort Ero

Foreign Affairs, April 1, 2024

Not so long ago, policymakers in Washington and other Western capitals gave little apparent thought to the possibility that the rest of the world might hold opinions distinct from their own. There were some exceptions: governments that the West deemed “good partners”—in other words, those willing to advance U.S. and Western security or economic interests—continued to benefit from Western support even if they did not govern themselves in accordance with Western values. But after the Cold War ended, most Western policymakers seemed to expect that developing countries would, over time, embrace the Western approach to democracy and globalization. Few Western leaders seemed to worry that non-Western states might bridle at their norms or perceive the international distribution of power as an unjust remnant of the colonial past. Leaders who voiced such views, such as Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez, were dismissed as eccentrics, their ideas behind the times. 

Today, by contrast, many Western policy discussions treat it as an established fact that a global South exists with its own distinct outlook. The phrase has become a nearly unavoidable shorthand—my colleagues and I use it ourselves at the International Crisis Group, the organization I lead. And, indeed, non-Western leaders including Narendra Modi of India and Mia Mottley of Barbados have begun to articulate the priorities of a collective—if still rather amorphous—global South on issues such as climate financing and the role of international institutions. Disappointed by many developing countries’ refusal to take serious steps to penalize Russia for its aggression in Ukraine, U.S. and European officials have started to pay new lip service to concerns of this group of states. 

Although this acknowledgment of the rest of the world’s interests is a welcome development, it is connected to a particular understanding of the global South, which, as a term, is conceptually unwieldy. There is no hard-and-fast definition of the global South, but it is typically used to refer to the bulk of countries in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. It lumps together powerful members of the G-20, such as Brazil and Indonesia, with the world’s least developed countries, including Sierra Leone and Timor-Leste. These countries do share some common historical experiences and future objectives, such as changing the balance of power in the international system. In conversations with politicians and officials from countries considered to be members of the global South, I have encountered a range of views on how coherent a unit it is. Some accept the term—but others do not. For these countries can also have dramatically diverging interests, values, and perspectives.

Policymakers in the West risk losing sight of the diversity the term encompasses. When they regard the global South as a more or less cohesive coalition, they can end up simplifying or ignoring countries’ individual concerns. Western officials who want to cultivate better ties with their non-Western counterparts may become tempted to focus on winning over a few supposedly leading global South states, such as Brazil and India. Their assumption is clear: bolster ties with Brasilia or New Delhi and the rest will follow. The Biden administration and its allies invested so heavily in making last year’s G-20 summit in India a success at least in part for this reason. 

A policy that focuses too heavily on a narrow cadre of non-Western states is insufficient. It can obscure the tensions among developing countries and the unique pressures—such as debt, climate change, demographic forces, and internal violence—that are shaping politics in many of them. In doing so, such a policy may also veil opportunities for building better ties with small and middle-sized states by addressing their individual interests. The term “global South” may offer a compelling but misleading simplicity (as can its counterpart, “the West”). Treating countries across Asia, Africa, and Latin America as a geopolitical bloc, however, will not help solve the problems they face, nor will it bring the United States and its partners the influence they seek. 

WHO SPEAKS FOR THE GLOBAL SOUTH? 

It is true that the countries of the global South, as defined here, have some common causes as well as incentives to coordinate. Most of these states fought against colonialism (and, in some cases, U.S. interventions) and cooperated in the Non-Aligned Movement and the Group of 77, coalitions that brought developing countries together during the Cold War. Both live on as formal blocs at the United Nations. In many multilateral settings today, non-Western states often opt to negotiate as a team rather than parley with the U.S. and its allies alone. This coordination enhances the affinity among countries frustrated with an international order that too often works against their interests. 

Recent global events have made schisms between these countries and the West more pronounced. When many non-Western governments refused to take sides after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, some Western leaders acknowledged the need to address allegations of a double standard—specifically, the perception that they only took principled stands when a European nation was attacked. Only with the support of a large bloc of states that are usually considered part of the global South, after all, could the UN General Assembly deliver a strong show of solidarity with Ukraine. But Western governments did not seek to apply this lesson beyond the Russia-Ukraine war. If the war in Gaza posed the next test of whether Western leaders truly grasped the importance of facing accusations of hypocrisy, those leaders appear to have failed. Across Africa, Asia, and Latin America, officials and citizens believe that the United States and some of its allies in Europe have greenlighted Israel’s wholesale destruction of Gaza. The perception of double standards is stronger than ever. 

Similarities in outlook, however, do not mean the countries generally assumed to belong to the global South act as one. Non-Western leaders are no different than their Western counterparts in their desire to pursue their states’ own interests, and not all of them see their countries as members of a broad-based group. Take, for example, their recent actions at the United Nations. In debates in the General Assembly over development policy, a small caucus of hard-line G-77 members, led by Cuba and Pakistan, insists on an aggressive approach to negotiating reforms to the international financial system with the United States and the European Union, and the group denounces the West for failing to live up to past aid pledges. Russia, in coordination with this caucus, used discussions of the UN Sustainable Development Goals in 2023 as a platform to criticize the global economic impact of U.S. sanctions. Yet in private, many other G-77 members expressed discomfort with this sharp-elbowed diplomacy, arguing that it undercut efforts to find common ground with Washington and Brussels to reduce their debt burdens. 

Similarities in outlook do not mean the members of the putative global South act as one.

Splits within the putative global South extend beyond economic issues. Some Latin American countries led by liberal governments, for example, would like to promote progressive agendas on gender issues and LGBTQ rights at the UN, but they run into opposition from more conservative G-77 members, including many Muslim-majority states. Brazil and India have long pursued permanent seats on the Security Council, but regional rivals such as Argentina and Pakistan aim to stymie them. And although non-Western diplomats often have practical reasons to stick together, those representing larger powers put their national positions ahead of group solidarity when it suits them. 

While many purport to speak for the global South—at the UN or otherwise—no single country can claim the mantle. Over the last year, Brazil, China, and India have tussled to present themselves as the group’s most effective leaders. All three countries are founding members of the BRICS, whose core members also include Russia and South Africa. During India’s 2023 G-20 presidency, Modi promised to represent “our fellow travelers from the global South” and helped the African Union gain a permanent seat. China, meanwhile, concentrated on expanding the BRICS, leading a successful push to extend invitations to Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates to join. (Argentina declined its invitation.) Brazil plans to use its role as president of the G-20 this year and host of the COP30 climate summit in 2025 to advance what President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (known as Lula) has presented as a vision of a “multipolar, fair, and inclusive order” in which countries of the global South would have greater influence than they do today. 

Yet even as these powers vie to lead developing countries, some of their recent foreign policy choices suggest they prioritize other relationships. China has been quietly strengthening its ties with Russia since the two powers declared a “no-limits partnership” in 2022. India has increased its trade with Russia and has drawn closer to the United States and U.S. allies in its role as part of the Quad (Quadrilateral Security Dialogue), a maritime security forum that also includes Australia and Japan. The Modi government broke with a majority of the members of the Non-Aligned Movement at the UN in October, too, when it refused to sign on to a General Assembly resolution calling for an immediate cease-fire in Gaza. Although New Delhi supported a subsequent resolution in December, the October vote testified to India’s deepening ties with Israel in recent years. 

For Brazil, China, and India, claiming leadership of the global South offers clear advantages.

Lula, meanwhile, has taken a more strident stance than other non-Western leaders on the Israel-Hamas war, comparing Israel’s offensive in Gaza to the Holocaust—comments that got the Brazilian president declared persona non grata in Israel in February. But Brazil has also sought favor with the world’s great powers, deftly navigating the frictions among China, Russia, and the United States in order to bolster ties with all three. For Brazil, China, and India in particular, claiming leadership of the global South offers clear advantages, including opportunities to expand their global diplomatic heft and firm up economic relationships. Despite their rhetorical support for the countries in this group, however, hard-headed realpolitik frequently takes precedence. 

Other aspirants to lead the global South seem even less equipped to claim the position. South Africa, for one, seems to take seriously the idea that it could represent this group; South African officials have been especially keen to play a peacemaking role in Ukraine. President Cyril Ramaphosa led a delegation of African leaders to Moscow and Kyiv last summer—but he made no progress toward ending the war. South Africa has arguably had more influence by bringing a case against Israel under the Genocide Convention before the International Court of Justice, a move that has shaped international debates about the war in Gaza. But a South Africa that still struggles to project itself as a leader on its own continent—where other powers such as Kenya and Nigeria prefer to chart their own paths—will not find it any easier to rally a globe-spanning coalition. 

No other candidates for the leadership position are likely to emerge. The small but influential Gulf Arab countries, for instance, caucus at the UN with developing nations in the Non-Aligned Movement and the G-77, and they have used these ties to garner support for the Palestinian cause during the Israel-Hamas war. But Arab officials tend to present their interests as separate from those of the global South, given their countries’ economic growth and relative political stability. Russia has also tried to win the backing of non-Western countries, and it uses anticolonial rhetoric to justify its confrontation with Europe and the United States. But many officials in these states see Moscow as too erratic and bellicose to trust in full, and Kenya in particular has criticized Russia for waging an imperialist war in Ukraine. 

FIX THE REAL PROBLEMS 

Ultimately, there is little value in striving to identify who, if anyone, can lead the global South. When officials in poorer countries look at the cast of contenders, they often question whether they have anything in common with those major and middle powers. As one African politician recently told me, smaller, poorer countries worry about being pushed into the role of the “South of the global South”: in need of outside support and facing condescension not only from former colonial rulers but also from non-Western states that are better off. 

The parlor game of global South leadership also pulls focus from the real challenges facing small and medium-sized states. Just as Western pundits have started to speculate about what new kinds of power developing countries can exert as a bloc, the fortunes of many individual non-Western states have taken a turn for the worse. Almost two-thirds of the world’s least developed countries now face serious debt distress. Some of the poorest—including several in West Africa—are experiencing political instability and deteriorating security conditions, which will only compound their economic woes. Regional bodies that were set up to mediate political problems, such as the African Union and Organization of American States, have lost credibility amid squabbles among their members. Helping vulnerable countries, particularly those that face conflict and humanitarian catastrophe, navigate the mutually reinforcing shocks of violence, inflation, food insecurity, climate change, and the lingering effects of the pandemic is more pressing than determining which power’s cues they follow in international diplomacy. 

The spike in chatter about the global South has at least done the service of highlighting mounting problems.

Even the states that aim to lead Africa, Asia, and Latin America face serious internal fractures, such as the high level of criminal activity in Brazil and South Africa or the recent upsurge of ethnic conflict in northeastern India. Ethiopia’s stature may have risen with its invitation to join the BRICS, but the country is recovering from a bloody civil war and contending with multiple insurgencies. The governments of many major non-Western powers are attempting to take a greater role on the global stage while facing persistent or increasing instability at home. Although the same can be said for several advanced economies in the West, in neither case is this a recipe for consistent leadership and problem-solving. 

The recent spike in chatter about the global South has at least done the service of highlighting mounting problems faced by countries beyond the West—problems that will require a global effort to address. To head off future instability, the United States and its allies must work to ease the international debt crisis and help vulnerable states resolve internal conflicts and governance issues. Progress will require multilateral negotiations to reform the global financial architecture—during which developing countries will likely continue to work as a bloc—and increased attention to each country or region’s specific economic and political circumstances. With Chinese initiatives such as the South-South Cooperation Fund and the BRICS New Development Bank presenting alternatives to Western public finance, genuine efforts from Washington and its partners to address these countries’ concerns will be particularly important. 

But the terminology problem remains. Although many Western policymakers think they know better than to treat the non-Western world as an unvariegated whole, they should use the phrase “global South” with particular care. Specific dynamics within and among the countries of Africa, Asia, and Latin America will shape their political futures more than their identity as a group. The West must see these states as they are, not fall for the fallacy that they operate geopolitically as a single entity.

What Happened to Lula? - Matias Spektor (Foreign Affairs)

Não é que algo tenha "acontecido" com Lula: ele sempre foi assim, apenas estava um pouco contido anteriormente. (PRA)

 

What Happened to Lula?

How He Dashed High Hopes for Brazil’s Foreign Policy—and How He Can Get Back on Track

By Matias Spektor

Foreign Affairs, February 28, 2024

 

Few leaders could claim, on taking office, to have induced sighs of relief from both Chinese President Xi Jinping and U.S. President Joe Biden. Yet in January 2023, that is exactly what Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva did. His narrow victory over Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro, a right-wing extremist and an admirer of Donald Trump, sparked optimism across borders. Democratic leaders everywhere saw Lula’s win, which returned him to power for a third term after a 12-year hiatus and a stint in prison over corruption charges, as the herald of an antiauthoritarian tide. Autocrats the world over relished him as a seasoned statesman with a reputation for standing up to the West. And developing countries of all kinds recognized him as someone who knows better than most how to exact concessions from the global North. “Brazil is back,” read headlines, as Lula seized the spotlight.

But during his first year in office, Lula has struggled to translate his vision for a more progressive global order into action. His foreign policy thus far has been beset by diplomatic missteps that have strained relations with partners in both the West and the developing world. His statements and actions have cast doubts on his role as peacemaker, coalition builder, and champion of the marginalized. His commitment to environmental leadership has been marred by his decision to turn Brazil into the latest petrostate. And his grand design overlooks his country’s most pressing threat: the explosive expansion of criminal networks that are working hard to turn Brazil into a failed state and that are undermining the ecological integrity of the Amazon rainforest.

To fix these problems and deliver on his vision of a progressive international order, Lula will have to change course. He must reengage partners in the West and Latin America after a year of growing estrangement. He must unequivocally come out in defense of democracy in neighboring Venezuela. He has to craft a new set of climate policies, ones that allow him to use Brazil’s newly discovered oil reserves without becoming another regressive member of OPEC. And Lula must revamp the country’s intelligence apparatus and better coordinate with outside partners to reverse the dangerous growth of Brazil’s criminal networks.

TRIALS AND ERRORS

Before taking office, Lula suggested that his foreign policy ambition was to bridge the vast gaps between the rich North and the developing South. He promised to actively pursue international cooperation, facilitating dialogue between the West and the rest, and he declared that Brazil would, again, lead Latin America. His administration hoped to secure major policy victories at the next G-20 summit and at the 2025 UN climate change conference—both of which Brazil will host. To this end, Lula has unveiled plans to launch a global initiative to combat hunger, facilitate the flow of climate finance toward developing countries, and help Africa secure seats in global governance institutions.

Yet since assuming power, Lula has made a sequence of costly mistakes. He committed his first foreign blunder with the United States. The Biden administration broke with tradition to all but endorse Lula during his campaign, cautioning Bolsonaro against using unconstitutional interventions to stay in power. Lula, however, has not leveraged the United States’ rare opening to advance his vision. Instead of pushing Biden on the long list of deliverables Brazil wants for the G-20 and the climate conference, Lula squandered his goodwill by blaming the war in Ukraine on President Volodymyr Zelensky, NATO, and ultimately the United States. A much-anticipated presidential meeting between Biden and Lula produced meager outcomes, leaving the bilateral relationship in a fraught and constrained state.

Brasília has legitimate grievances with Washington. In October, the United States single-handedly blocked a Brazilian-led UN Security Council resolution for a Gaza cease-fire, which Lula’s government had heavily campaigned for in close consultation with American officials. And Lula is persuaded that the U.S. Department of Justice was behind his imprisonment over a vast corruption scandal, marring his relationship with Washington (although evidence of U.S. involvement remains thin at best). But with the G-20 summit in Rio de Janeiro on the horizon, just after the U.S. elections in November, Brazil cannot afford this estrangement. Biden, after all, could easily torpedo Lula’s initiatives by either ignoring or opposing them.

The initial enthusiasm that greeted Lula’s return has dissipated.

The United States is not the only Western country Lula is alienating. His comments on the war in Ukraine and his penchant for describing NATO as a source of instability have made him less popular among European countries, as well. Germany and Portugal, Brazil’s closest partners on the continent, have felt particularly slighted, unable to decipher the president’s aims. These tensions have been compounded by the collapse of trade talks between the EU and Mercosur (a South American trade bloc led by Brazil), which was prompted by French agricultural protectionism and Mercosur disunity. Given that the EU plays a central role in doling out foreign aid, financing climate projects, and reforming international institutions, this discord could cost Lula his ambitious G-20 agenda.

Such failures in the global North might be less concerning if Lula had racked up victories in the global South. But he hasn’t. In South America, the initial enthusiasm that greeted his return to office has dissipated. He failed to dissuade Uruguay from seeking trade deals with China outside Mercosur, a move that severely weakens Brazil’s influence in its region. Lula’s bid to revive the Union of South American Nations proved futile. And his vocal endorsement of the unsuccessful Argentine presidential contender Sergio Massa, coupled with his absence from the inauguration of the victorious right-wing candidate, Javier Milei, have unsettled Brazil’s closest relationship. Its regional plans are contingent on the tacit support of Argentina, which has enough diplomatic influence to bolster or hinder its neighbor’s initiatives. As a result, any enmity between Lula and Milei could seriously undermine the former’s ambitions.

Lula has also run into trouble with fellow leaders on the South American left. He is engaged in a public rift with Colombian President Gustavo Petro over oil drilling in the Amazon. Brazil’s geographic distance from Mexico has made it hard for Lula to cooperate with Mexican President Andrés Manuel López Obrador, better known as AMLO, on critical issues for Lula, such as his G-20 agenda or the election of the next secretary-general of the United Nations. Lula has offered unwavering support for Venezuela’s purportedly left-wing but brutal, kleptocratic autocracy, yet this stance has earned the ire of progressive leaders elsewhere in the region—including Chilean President Gabriel Boric. Lula’s support for Venezuela has also backfired. In December, Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro threatened to invade Guyana, dragging Brazil into a regional dispute that could lead to war.

Lula believes he can strengthen his international hand by partnering with China to secure concessions from the West, so he wants to closely coordinate policy with Beijing. “The BRICS is the most important development in world politics in recent times,” reasoned the presidential adviser Celso Amorim last January, referring to a consortium of non-Western states. (The acronym stands for Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa.) “The group has awakened Western nations to the need to strengthen the G-20, which ought to be the main institution [for global governance].” But even if Amorim’s assessment is correct, Brazil can gain support from the global North for Lula’s progressive vision only if his country maintains clear autonomy; any hint of subservience to China will draw Western backlash. And for all the government’s positive talk about China’s rise, ties between Beijing and Brasília are not particularly close. The Chinese continue to play hardball on UN Security Council reform, which could land Brazil a permanent seat, as well as when it comes to bilateral trade and investment. China’s growing diplomatic clout in South America could also make it hard for Brazil to advance its interests in the region.

It still makes sense for Lula to partner with China and other BRICS members, especially since they can help him achieve his G-20 goals. Yet his uncritical collaboration with these states exposes him to accusations of hypocrisy. Lula is known for his readiness to call out Western violations of international law, but he has been silent about China’s brutal oppression of Uyghurs and India’s crackdown on dissent. He has also been quiet when it comes to Russia’s indiscriminate killing of civilians in Ukraine. Confronted by the media about Alexei Navalny’s death in prison, Lula said the world should wait for forensic results before blaming Putin. And although Lula condemned the October 7 Hamas attack, he created an uproar in mid-February by declaring that “what is happening in the Gaza Strip with the Palestinian people has not occurred at any other moment in history—actually, it has, when Hitler decided to kill the Jews.”

Leaders everywhere, of course, have loudly criticized Israel’s war in Gaza, so Lula is far from alone. But to be a successful progressive voice and advocate at a time when the world is so profoundly divided, Lula has to establish himself as a broker who is intensely focused on finding pragmatic solutions. He cannot express moral outrage only when it is convenient.

RIGHTING THE SHIP

Fortunately for Lula, changing tack is possible. In Brazil, the executive branch has unilateral authority to set foreign policy. And for all his missteps, Lula still wields a unique set of strategic and diplomatic assets that can help him claim global leadership.

At a time when almost all major powers are coping with war or its specter, Brazil’s geographical and political distance from the primary zones of conflict allow Lula to try to refocus global attention on the scourges of poverty and inequality. The country has sovereignty over the Amazon—the planet’s most extensive rainforest—and is a top-tier food producer, giving it a major say in climate governance. And Brazil, with its turbulent but instructive history of democratic resilience and poverty alleviation, can provide other developing states with insights on how to push back against the threat of populist extremism.

Lula’s eight-decade journey from hardship to the presidency remains a source of universal admiration, earning him a superstar reception everywhere he goes. This personal allure is not cosmetic; it is a testament to his pivotal role in lifting millions of people from poverty, which he continues to do. In the first year of his third term, Lula secured legislative backing to pass a sweeping tax reform, skillfully quelled a populist insurrection, and aligned military factions. He introduced policies that have effectively slowed Amazon deforestation. Following in Biden’s footsteps, he unveiled an ambitious industrial policy alongside plans for a green transition. And despite uncertainty about Brazil’s future economic trajectory, GDP growth in Lula’s first year impressively neared three percent—more than triple earlier market projections. These triumphs have reinforced Lula’s political capital. A recent Atlas Intel poll shows that 58 percent of Brazilians rate his administration positively.

Lula still wields a unique set of strategic and diplomatic assets.

Yet the best card in Lula’s deck is simple serendipity. The fact that Brazil will host both the G-20 summit in 2024 and the COP30 conference in 2025 means that Lula will have two global stages on which to unveil and champion a progressive foreign policy agenda centered on poverty reduction, equitable representation for emerging states, and climate justice—a reshuffling of the deck in favor of the global South. These summits demand the painstaking construction of big-tent coalitions. But this is a task at which Lula should excel, provided he can rework relations with other world leaders.

Lula can start by rebuilding ties with the United States. He should do so by focusing on his administration’s mutual interests with Biden, such as the green transition and food security, and by encouraging the White House to follow through on its professed commitment to UN reform. He should make the case that Brazil’s G-20 conference will offer a showcase for the Biden administration to promote a progressive global order, one that distinguishes it from the policies Trump would pursue. But Lula should also initiate dialogue with Republican counterparts now in the event the GOP wins in 2024, capitalizing on his innate capacity for engaging ideological adversaries. Although Trump is an unpredictable politician, Lula managed to craft excellent and profitable relations with former Republican President George W. Bush, even as Brazil staunchly and publicly opposed the Iraq war.

Lula must rebuild ties with other countries in South America, as well. Here, humility will be key. Lula should acknowledge that Brazil’s recent domestic turmoil has tarnished its brand, not least because the cross-border corruption scandals unearthed during Lula’s tenure eroded trust in the country and implicated numerous South American leaders. A better Latin America policy also entails a new approach to Venezuela. Lula has historically protected Venezuela from external criticism, even as it immiserates its people, by arguing that any liberalization is contingent on the regime’s acquiescence. But the reality remains that without concerted international pressure, liberalization is unlikely. As a result, Lula must stop defending Venezuela’s autocrats.

Brazil will have to cooperate with NATO in the South Atlantic.

To be a true progressive leader, Lula will need to make strides on climate change. His administration may have slowed deforestation rates, but it must make fundamental changes to Brazil’s increasingly carbon-intensive economy if it wants to stop rising emissions. It will have to realign the country’s voters, agricultural sector, and industrial sector toward sustainability in a way no Brazilian government has done before. To succeed, Lula must introduce legislation to compensate the losers of the ecological transition, such as farmers and ranchers, so they do not fight as Brazil makes the switch. He should reconsider his November 2023 initiative to fully integrate Brazil into OPEC and instead harness the country’s oil reserves as a catalyst for its green transformation, channeling revenues into sustainable energy initiatives. He should modernize Petrobras, Brazil’s state-owned oil company, to lead in eco-friendly innovation. Finally, Lula must root out criminal actors in the immensely complex Amazon region, which are responsible for much of Brazil’s deforestation.

Lula must also take on organized crime more broadly. Successive Brazilian administrations, including Lula’s, have allowed the country’s gangs to grow in size and scope, resulting in groups that are now powerful enough to seriously challenge the authority of the state. Criminal rings influence politics at all levels of government, co-opting state institutions that oversee roads, ports, airports, border controls, financial systems, and even law enforcement and the armed forces. They also control cross-border illicit trades in narcotics, counterfeit goods, auto parts, and human beings. The toll on ordinary Brazilians has been brutal. With an average of 110 murders per day, Brazil’s homicide rate is one of the highest in the world. The country is home to 17 of the globe’s 50 deadliest cities.

With respect to crime, there will be no strictly national solutions. Brazil’s criminal networks span many borders, so reversing the trend will require deep international cooperation of the kind not only that Brasília is unused to but that its foreign policy elites have also traditionally rejected. Yet the country will have to work with poorer and weaker neighbors to clean up their security forces, which have sometimes fallen under the sway of criminal organizations. Lula must also reorient Brazil’s intelligence apparatus—which Bolsonaro tried to train on domestic opponents—toward tracing and rooting out gangs, wherever they operate. And Brazil will have to cooperate with NATO in the South Atlantic. Working with the alliance may be toxic to Brazilian diplomats and military officials, but it’s simply a fact that many of Brazil’s criminal networks are transatlantic. As a result, the country needs to collaborate with Europe.

Revamping Brazil’s grand strategy is a formidable task, and the timing is urgent—the G-20 summit is just ten months away. But if Lula plays his cards right, he can still mend strained partnerships and rebuild his reputation as a diplomatic broker. He can help stabilize his region and his country. He can, in other words, deliver on the core promise of a progressive global order: using diplomacy to solve problems, even as fires proliferate in a politically fragmented world.

MATIAS SPEKTOR is Professor of International Relations at Fundação Getulio Vargas in São Paulo and a Nonresident Scholar at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

 

How U.S. Allies and Trump Is Already Reshaping Geopolitics - Graham Allison (Foreign Affairs)

 Artigo relativamente pessimista sobre o futuro do Ocidente.

How U.S. Allies and Trump Is Already Reshaping Geopolitics

Adversaries Are Responding to the Chance of His Return

By Graham Allison

Foreign Affairs, January 16, 2024

In the decade before the great financial crisis of 2008, the chair of the Federal Reserve, Alan Greenspan, became a virtual demigod in Washington. As U.S. Senator John McCain, Republican of Arizona, famously advised, “If he’s alive or dead it doesn’t matter. If he’s dead, just prop him up and put some dark glasses on him.”

During Greenspan’s two decades as chair, from 1987 to 2006, the Fed played a central role in a period of accelerated growth in the U.S. economy. Among the sources of Greenspan’s fame was what financial markets called the “Fed put.” (A “put” is a contract that gives the owner the right to sell an asset at a fixed price until a fixed date.) During Greenspan’s tenure, investors came to believe that however risky the new products that financial engineers were creating, if something went awry, the system could count on Greenspan’s Fed to come to the rescue and provide a floor below which stocks would not be allowed to fall. The bet paid off: when Wall Street’s mortgage-backed securities and derivatives led to the collapse of Lehman Brothers, triggering the 2008 financial crisis that sparked the Great Recession, the U.S. Treasury and the Fed stepped in to prevent the economy from sliding into a second Great Depression.

That dynamic is worth recalling when considering the effect that the 2024 U.S. presidential election is already having on the decisions of countries around the world. Leaders are now beginning to wake up to the fact that a year from now, former U.S. President Donald Trumpcould actually be returning to the White House. Accordingly, some foreign governments are increasingly factoring into their relationship with the United States what may come to be known as the “Trump put”—delaying choices in the expectation that they will be able to negotiate better deals with Washington a year from now because Trump will effectively establish a floor on how bad things can get for them. Others, by contrast, are beginning to search for what might be called a “Trump hedge”—analyzing the ways in which his return will likely leave them with worse options and preparing accordingly.

THE GHOST OF PRESIDENCIES PAST

Russian President Vladimir Putin’s calculations in his war against Ukraine provide a vivid example of the Trump put. In recent months, as a stalemate has emerged on the ground, speculation has grown about Putin’s readiness to end the war. But as a result of the Trump put, it is far more likely that the war will still be raging this time next year. Despite some Ukrainians’ interest in an extended cease-fire or even an armistice to end the killing before another grim winter takes its toll, Putin knows that Trump has promised to end the war “in one day.” In Trump’s words: “I would tell [Ukrainian President Volodymyr] Zelensky, no more [aid]. You got to make a deal.” Facing a good chance that a year from now, Trump will offer terms much more advantageous for Russia than anything U.S. President Joe Biden would offer or Zelensky would agree to today, Putin will wait.

Ukraine’s allies in Europe, by contrast, must consider a Trump hedge. As the war approaches the end of its second year, daily pictures of destruction and deaths caused by Russian airstrikes and artillery shells have upended European illusions of living in a world in which war has become obsolete. Predictably, this has led to a revival of enthusiasm for the NATO alliance and its backbone: the U.S. commitment to come to the defense of any ally that is attacked. But as reports of polls showing Trump besting Biden are beginning to sink in, there is a growing fear. Germans, in particular, remember former Chancellor Angela Merkel’s conclusion from her painful encounters with Trump. As she described it, “We must fight for our future on our own.”

Trump is not the only U.S. leader to ask why a European community that has three times the population of Russia and a GDP more than nine times its size has to continue to depend on Washington to defend it. In an oft-cited interview with The Atlantic’s chief editor, Jeffrey Goldberg, in 2016, U.S. President Barack Obama lacerated Europeans (and others) for being “free riders.” But Trump has gone further. According to John Bolton, who was then Trump’s national security adviser, Trump said, “I don’t give a shit about NATO” during a 2019 meeting in which he talked seriously about withdrawing from the alliance altogether. In part, Trump’s threats were a bargaining ploy to force European states to meet their commitment to spend two percent of GDP on their own defense—but only in part. After two years of attempting to persuade Trump about the importance of the United States’s alliances, Secretary of Defense James Mattis concluded that his differences with the president were so profound that he could no longer serve, a position he explained candidly in his 2018 letter of resignation. Today, Trump’s campaign website calls for “fundamentally reevaluating NATO’s purpose and NATO’s mission.” When considering how many tanks or artillery shells to send to Ukraine, some Europeans are now pausing to ask whether they might need those arms for their own defense were Trump to be elected in November.

Leaders are waking up to the fact that Trump could return to the White House.

Expectations derived from a Trump put were also at work during the recently concluded COP28 climate change summit in Dubai. Historically, COP agreements about what governments will do to address the climate challenge have been long on aspirations and short on performance. But COP28 stretched even further into fantasy in heralding what it called a historic agreement to “transition away from fossil fuels.”

In reality, the signatories are doing precisely the opposite. Major producers and consumers of oil, gas, and coal are currently increasing—not reducing—their use of fossil fuels. Moreover, they are making investments to continue doing so for as far ahead as any eye can see. The world’s largest producer of oil, the United States, has been expanding its production annually for the past decade and set a new record for output in 2023. The third-largest emitter of greenhouse gases, India, is celebrating its own superior economic growth driven by a national energy program whose centerpiece is coal. This fossil fuel accounts for three-quarters of India’s primary energy production. China is the number one producer of both “green” renewable energy and “black” polluting coal. So although China installed more solar panels in 2023 than the United States has in the past five decades, it is also currently building six times as many new coal plants as the rest of the world combined.

Thus, although COP28 saw many pledges about targets for 2030 and beyond, attempts to get governments to take any costly, irreversible actions today were resisted. Leaders know that if Trump returns and pursues his campaign pledge to “drill, baby, drill,” such actions will be unnecessary. As a bad joke that made its way around the bars at COP28 went: “What is COP28’s unstated plan to transition away from fossil fuels? To burn them up as rapidly as possible.”

A DISORDERED WORLD

A second Trump term promises a new world trading order—or disorder. On his first day in office in 2017, Trump withdrew from the Trans-Pacific Partnership trade agreement. The weeks that followed saw the end of discussions to create a European equivalent as well as other free-trade agreements. Using the unilateral authority that Section 301 of the Trade Act of 1974 gives the executive branch, Trump imposed 25 percent tariffs on $300 billion worth of Chinese imports—tariffs that Biden has largely kept in place. As the Trump administration’s trade negotiator Robert Lighthizer—whom the Trump campaign has identified as its lead adviser on these issues—explained in his recently published book, No Trade Is Free, a second Trump term would be much bolder. 

In the current campaign, Trump calls himself “Tariff Man.” He is promising to impose a ten percent universal tariff on imports from all countries and to match countries that levy higher tariffs on American goods, promising “an eye for an eye, a tariff for a tariff.” The cooperation pact with Asia-Pacific countries negotiated by the Biden administration—the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework for Prosperity—will, Trump says, be “dead on day one.” For Lighthizer, China is the “lethal adversary” that will be the central target of protectionist U.S. trade measures. Beginning with the revocation of the “permanent normal trading relations” status China was granted in 2000 ahead of joining the World Trade Organization, Trump’s goal will be to “eliminate dependence on China in all critical areas,” including electronics, steel, and pharmaceuticals.

Since trade is a major driver of global economic growth, most leaders find the possibility that U.S. initiatives could essentially collapse the rules-based trading order almost inconceivable. But some of their advisers are now exploring futures in which the United States may be more successful in decoupling itself from the global trading order than in forcing others to decouple from China.

Trade liberalization has been a pillar of a larger process of globalization that has also seen the freer movement of people around the world. Trump has announced that on the first day of his new administration, his first act will be to “close the border.” Currently, every day, more than 10,000 foreign nationals are entering the United States from Mexico. Despite the Biden administration’s best efforts, Congress has refused to authorize further economic assistance to Israel and Ukraine without major changes that significantly slow this mass migration from Central America and elsewhere. On the campaign trail, Trump is making Biden’s failure to secure U.S. borders a major issue. He has announced his own plans to round up millions of “illegal aliens” in what he calls “the largest domestic deportation operation in American history.” In the thick of their own presidential election, Mexicans are still searching for words to describe this nightmare in which their country could be overwhelmed by millions of people coming across both their northern and southern borders.

FOUR MORE YEARS

Historically, there have been eras when differences between Democrats and Republicans on major foreign policy issues were so modest that it could be said that “politics stops at the water’s edge.” This decade, however, is not one of them. Unhelpful as it may be to foreign-policy makers and their counterparts abroad, the U.S. Constitution schedules quadrennial equivalents of what in the business world would be an attempted hostile takeover.

As a result, on every issue—from negotiations on climate or trade or NATO’s support for Ukraine to attempts to persuade Putin, Chinese President Xi Jinping, or Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman to act—Biden and his foreign policy team are finding themselves increasingly handicapped as their counterparts weigh Washington’s promises or threats against the likelihood that they will be dealing with a very different government a year from now. This year promises to be a year of danger as countries around the world watch U.S. politics with a combination of disbelief, fascination, horror, and hope. They know that this political theater will choose not only the next president of the United States but also the world’s most consequential leader.

·  GRAHAM ALLISON is Douglas Dillon Professor of Government at the Harvard Kennedy School and the author of Destined for War: Can America and China Escape Thucydides’s Trap?

Foreign Affairs some of the best books on international relations

 

The Economic Government of the World, 1933–2023

By Martin Daunton

Daunton’s sweeping narrative assesses the history of international economic cooperation and the institutions that organize and sustain it.

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The Economic Government of the World, 1933–2023

Reviewed by Barry Eichengreen

November/December 2023Published on October 24, 2023

In This Review 

Daunton has written a sweeping history of international economic cooperation and of the meetings and institutions through which it is organized. The author’s original design for this book, many years in the making, was evidently to begin his narrative with the London Economic Conference of 1933, which failed to preserve an open international order, and conclude with the more successful G-20 summit in London in 2009, which mobilized international efforts to contain the 2008 global financial crisis and stabilize the world economy. Whereas the first of these conferences was sunk by doctrinal disagreements and international political disputes, the second benefited from the intellectual and political convergence that followed the fall of communism and the end of the Cold War. Developments in the past decade, however, have thrown the author’s optimistic narrative a series of curve balls: the resurgence of populism, tensions between China and the United States, and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, which put an end to political convergence and inaugurated what some call a “new Cold War.” Progress in strengthening global governance, it turns out, is not inevitable. Institutions such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organization retain a role in fostering international cooperation, but Daunton insists that they must not interfere too extensively in domestic policy choices lest they spark a backlash. To sustain international cooperation, governments must complement openness with policies that create good jobs, provide social insurance, tax footloose corporations, and avoid destabilizing capital flows.

From Amazon.com:

“An epic history of the people and institutions that have built the global economy since the Great Depression.

In this vivid landmark history, the distinguished economic historian Martin Daunton pulls back the curtain on the institutions and individuals who have created and managed the global economy over the last ninety years, revealing how and why one economic order breaks down and another is built. During the Great Depression, trade and currency warfare led to the rise of economic nationalism―a retreat from globalization that culminated in war. From the Second World War came a new, liberal economic order. Squarely reflecting the interests of the West in the Cold War, liberalism faced collapse in the 1970s and was succeeded by neoliberalism, financialization, and hyper-globalization.

Now, as leading nations are tackling the fallout from COVID-19 and threats of inflation, food insecurity, and climate change, Daunton calls for a return to a more just and equitable form of globalization. Western imperial powers have overwhelmingly determined the structures of world economic government, often advancing their own self-interests and leading to ruinous resource extraction, debt, poverty, and political and social instability in the Global South. He argues that while our current economic system is built upon the politics of and between the world’s biggest economies, a future of global recovery―and the reduction of economic inequality―requires the development of multilateral institutions.

Dramatic and revelatory, The Economic Government of the World offers a powerful analysis of the origins of our current global crises and a path toward a fairer international order.”

The Rebel Scribe: Carleton Beals and the Progressive Challenge to U.S. Policy in Latin America

by Christopher Neal

Neal’s highly entertaining biography of the writer Carleton Beals, whose work on Latin America foreshadowed later anti-imperialist critiques, sheds light on the United States’ relationship with the ruling elites of Latin America throughout the twentieth century.

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The Rebel Scribe: Carleton Beals and the Progressive Challenge to U.S. Policy in Latin America

Reviewed by Richard Feinberg

January/February 2023Published on December 20, 2022

In This Review 

Neal admires the fierce intellectual independence and penetrating, skeptical eye of Carleton Beals, who died in 1979 at the age of 85. Beals was a remarkably prolific freelance writer of some 40 books and innumerable magazine articles that skewered the ruling elites of Latin America and their U.S. sponsors. As recorded in Neal’s highly entertaining biography, Beals’s best books, enriched by his extensive travels, offered colorful, often acerbic portraits of the leading political and intellectual figures of the day. His biggest scoop, a 1928 exclusive interview with Augusto Sandino, pictured the Nicaraguan guerrilla fighter as a romantic patriot battling against a misguided U.S. military intervention. Something of a celebrity in progressive intellectual circles, Beals foreshadowed the later anti-imperialist critiques of William Appleman Williams and Noam Chomsky and the popularity in academic circles of dependency theory, the notion that globalization impoverishes poorer countries. Like many left-leaning, politically engaged writers, Beals wavered between demanding that the U.S. government keep its hands off Latin America and urging Washington to put its thumb on the scales for progressive democrats.

Cooperating With the Colossus: A Social and Political History of U.S. Military Bases in World War II Latin America

by Rebecca Herman

In this splendid, well-balanced history of an extraordinary but seldom studied period in inter-American relations, Herman argues that pragmatic accords between the United States and Latin American countries enabled a brilliant if brief chapter of solidarity in the Western Hemisphere throughout World War II.

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The Rise and Fall of the EAST: How Exams, Autocracy, Stability, and Technology Brought China Success, and Why They Might Lead to Its Decline

by Yasheng Huang

In this wide-ranging and shrewd analysis of the Chinese state, Huang predicts that the crackdown on freedom under Chinese leader Xi Jinping’s modernized version of imperial rule may bring an end to the country’s brief spurt of dynamism.

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