Even before Glimpse was what it is today, and before I even thought much of it, I knew I had to make a good first impression. I had spent the entire night before orientation working tirelessly on my pitches, eventually settling on one about the crisis in Lebanon. My leg shook as I waited to introduce myself on the Zoom call. “Sangeeta Kishore, rising sophomore majoring in IRGB and French, from Princeton, New Jersey.” 

I always loved writing: I worked on the newspaper in high school, my dad is a journalist. But my journey in Glimpse wasn’t seamless. On my first article, my brain went into instant panic mode when I saw my draft COVERED in suggestions. I forgot to add all my citations. Every sentence had a rewrite. Certainly not my finest work.

I wanted to give up in that instant. I didn’t take well to criticism, especially when it came to what I thought I was good at. But it was the pandemic — I frankly didn’t have much to lose and Glimpse brought the only semblance of normalcy to my quarantined life. So I pushed on. I spent every waking moment, even my lunch breaks while working at Madewell, on my next piece about pro-democracy protests in Thailand. And not to toot my own horn, but that article was quite a hit. 

I had put myself on the Glimpse map: I was soon promoted to Associate Editor, made it onto EBoard, which was barely an EBoard at the time, but more importantly, I gained a renewed sense of confidence. The joy felt after that article is what I wanted all of our writers to feel, and I knew I had to give Glimpse my all to make it happen. 

I could go on a rant about what I’ve done at Glimpse, but nothing could truly do it justice. Glimpse has been more than anything I could ever imagine. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve talked about Glimpse, I’d be richer than Jeff Bezos. Because helping build this organization has been my biggest success story thus far. I’ve met some of my best friends through Glimpse: former Finance Chair Jake Wisnik, former VP Sasha Benke, and former President Lauren Schulsohn. In fact, Lauren and I became the close friends we are today because we spent the entire summer on long phone calls talking about our plans for Glimpse. We fostered a friendship over our shared love for this organization.

As Editor-in-Chief, it’s easy to say that Glimpse’s success comes from our editorial prowess. We publish daily, covering news from all across the globe. But the true virtue of this organization is the community. A group of over 100 truly dedicated students, who not only think, analyze, and question the way true journalists should, but are driven by the desire to make this world a better place. Whether it’s Zain Khan’s passionate fight against Hindu nationalism in India or my successor, Mane Berkiyan’s remarkable reporting on conflict in Armenia, our writers take on important issues, even issues affecting them and their families, with such eloquence and tact. 

In my tenure, I strived to empower those voices and harness the diverse community we’ve been able to cultivate at Glimpse. Our work has become more personal, but all the more powerful. Because that is what the news is. Events that affect everyday people. People like all of us. 

For our last editorial series, Lauren and I created a culminating project: “A Glimpse into My Life”  to support this vision. Our writers, including myself, wrote a personal piece reflecting on how an aspect of their identity has shaped our global outlook. Let me just say, I think this one might’ve been better than my Thailand article. 

Glimpse has pushed me and all of us to fight for what we believe in. This organization has been my source of inspiration, friendship, but most of all, my source of purpose these past few years. While I am quite ready to graduate, and go to even more school (law school alert!), leaving Glimpse is bittersweet. Thankfully, we have left it in very capable hands — Sarra, Mane, and Zain I may not be sending Slack rants or Trello updates anymore, but I will still give Glimpse my all, even from afar. My love for Glimpse will always be an unfettered flame.

This past December, I was stirred awake from a jetlagged-induced nap by a booming noise outside. I noticed people outside of my window and fire? I rushed out onto the verandah to get a closer look: crowds of men marching, torches in hand shouting past the ambalam. I’d never seen anything like it. Pressing my aunt for more, she passively replied, “Oh that’s just the RSS. They march out here everyday now.” 

The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, or the RSS, is an Indian right-wing nationalist militia belonging to the larger Sangh Parivar, a body of organizations that has now ingrained itself into every facet of Indian society. The Sangh Parivar has even reached the highest office in the land through its political party, the Bharatiya Janata Party, or the BJP, and its leader Prime Minister Narendra Modi. 

The RSS is the progenitor of this movement and helped popularize the Hindutva philosophy now proudly touted by Prime Minister Modi in national and even international venues. Hindutva can be translated as “Hindu-ness.” This term was once understood as defining a place for the Hindu community in a newly independent, secular India. Hindutva has now become an “imminent threat to freedom, equality and democracy.” 

The theological component of Hindutva was not a part of its original conception, and intolerance is even more recent. The Sangh Parivar has appropriated Hindutva to advance a divine mission: to protect the “Hindu nation” and its interests at all costs.

You might ask, how exactly has the BJP and its co-conspirators “protected” said interests? They have passed amendments to the national citizenship laws aimed at discriminating against Muslims; removed autonomy provisions granted in the 1950s to the Muslim-majority state of Jammu and Kashmir; perpetrated “vigilante” attacks on selling or consuming beef and enforced policies to restrict marriages between Hindus and Muslims. And they’re only getting started. 

Hindus have a clear majority in the country — 80% of the population, compared to 15% of Muslims. Yet, the Sangh Parivar remains threatened, and continues its shows of power across the country from local ambalams to the Supreme Court of India. One thing remains clear: “[t]he rise of Hindu majoritarian politics and the government’s willingness to trample Muslim-minority interests has cast a shadow on India’s reputation as a liberal, secular democracy.” 

I’m a Hindu, but I’m not a Hindu nationalist. I will never forget my 90-year-old grandmother proudly proclaiming to a BJP candidate at her doorstep: “I have never voted for the BJP in my life and I never will.” She even bellowed at the protestors this past winter to keep it down so as to not interrupt her television serials. And she’s not the only one. Kerala doesn’t have a single BJP representative in India’s parliament, and the state has been largely governed by leftist coalitions since the late 1970s. That doesn’t change the fact that throughout the country, Hindu nationalism has become an unstoppable force, and the Sangh Parivar will not be silenced or deterred. 

In a sense, I’ve been able to regard the rise of Hindutva from a pinnacle of privilege. I’m a part of the religious majority and I live abroad, free of the harsh realities faced by my Muslim counterparts in India every single day. But, as an Indian and as a Hindu, witnessing this oppression in the name of Hinduism shakes me to my core. It goes against everything I’ve learnt and believe. I was always taught that Hinduism advocated for ahimsa, or nonviolence; it is a faith that at its core believes in not just tolerance, but acceptance. 

Hindu nationalism is decisively destroying that vision. It is seeping into the politics and people of the world’s largest democracy, the land of my ancestors. It has corrupted a centuries-old tradition of peace and permissiveness. It has turned my places of love into places of hate. 

As per the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NFT) of 1970, there are five designated nuclear weapon states — the United States, Russia, the United Kingdom, France and China — who also serve as the five permanent members of the UN Security Council. However, in 1974, four years following the enactment of the NFT, India conducted its first successful nuclear bomb test: Pokhran-I or Operation Smiling Buddha. Characterized by India’s Ministry of External Affairs as a “peaceful nuclear explosion,” the test presented new challenges to the growing sphere of nuclear politics. Being the first country outside of the five sanctioned nuclear states, India’s possession of nuclear weapons drew concerns in the international community, but these revelations were the most worrisome for India’s Western neighbor and long-time adversary, Pakistan. After India followed up with Pokhran-II, a second round of nuclear tests, over two decades later, Pakistan soon responded with its own public tests of nuclear weapons, Chagai-I on May 28, 1998, and Chagai-II just two days later.

The testing of India and Pakistan’s nuclear capabilities in May 1998 sparked the beginning of nuclearization in South Asia, which remains one of the primary security issues in the region today. The Indian subcontinent is the most likely venue for nuclear conflict, and with recent developments, notably India’s completion of the Nuclear Triad in 2018, enabling nuclear deterrence by land, air and sea, their proposed “Cold Start Doctrine, along with Pakistan’s development of tactical nuclear weapons, the threat is only evolving.

While two additional powers possessing nuclear weapons are concerning enough, the contentious relationship between the two countries augments those worries. Since independence and partition in 1947, India and Pakistan have been engaged in four large-scale military conflicts and maintain hostile political and military postures toward one another. With many key points of conflict unresolved, the potential for another military confrontation takes on a heightened dimension with the prospect of nuclear war. There are two key questions: Where do India and Pakistan stand with respect to nuclear weapons? And does nuclearization serve to stabilize or fuel instability in the ongoing protracted conflict between the two adversaries?

Doctrine, Deterrence, and the Stability-Instability Paradox

Since the United States dropped two nuclear bombs on Japan during World War II, the resulting destruction has instilled a universally accepted taboo against using any kind of nuclear weapon. In other words, “[t]here has been a clear and abiding sense that the use of any nuclear weapon would be a strategic act, one that would fundamentally change the nature of the conflict in which the weapon had been used.”As a result, most countries possessing nuclear weapons have adopted a nuclear doctrine, which serves as their rules of engagement on the employment of nuclear weapons directed at potential adversaries.

The doctrine is critical for establishing a country’s deterrence posture, which signals to adversaries that any potential action they may pursue will not succeed or go unpunished. Where full nuclear disarmament is not viable, policymakers and military leaders aim to achieve “strategic stability,” an equilibrium state where neither country feels threatened by the other or perceives a significant disadvantage. Successful nuclear deterrence has the power to induce strategic stability, meaning that when two countries each have nuclear weapons, if deterrent postures and doctrines are “reciprocally credible” enough to each of the adversaries, the likelihood of direct war is unlikely. However, the presence of nuclear weapons can also erode this stability by encouraging minor conflicts. This logic is what is called the “stability-instability paradox.”

Many scholars believe that the “stability-instability paradox” applies to the South Asia context. Rather than seeking strategic stability, many states “seek to increase imbalances between them to better play to their national advantages and more likely to prevail over the other in certain non-nuclear conflicts.” This is the case with India and Pakistan. There has been evidence of increased Pakistani aggression towards India by way of terrorist organizations and insurgents, which Michael Krepon theorizes has “notably coincided with its acquisition of nuclear capabilities.”This satisfies the instability condition of the paradox that possessing nuclear weapons increases the likelihood of proxy wars and other minor conflicts.

The other condition is also relevant to the India-Pakistan example. In 1999, a year after both powers conducted public nuclear tests, India and Pakistan were involved in a military conflict in Kargil. Despite the severity of the conflict and both being nuclear powers, neither country employed nuclear weapons. Although this is not a promise of future restraint in the event of conflict, this signifies that a degree of nuclear deterrence has been achieved, enough to promote strategic stability.

However, others argue that the stability/instability paradox does not explain the nature of conflict in nuclearized South Asia. They theorize a different strategic environment in which “instability in the nuclear realm encourages instability at lower levels of conflict.”This perspective characterizes the India-Pakistan relationship as “aggressive Pakistani attempts to revise territorial boundaries in the region” and “relatively restrained Indian efforts to preserve the status quo.”

Even with these attempts, Pakistani policymakers are astutely aware of Pakistan’s conventional insecurity vis-à-vis India; in the event of war, while they may enjoy an advantage in the initial stages of a conventional conflict with India, in a protracted conflict, India would decisively prevail. Given this, if there was a high degree of strategic stability and both sides understood that the probability of nuclear use was low, it would be challenging for Pakistani leaders to credibly threaten nuclear weapon employment. This reduction in deterrence would encourage caution on Pakistan’s end – they would face strong incentives to not engage in aggressive behavior. In other words, Pakistani adventurism is promoted when nuclear escalation as a serious possibility: the likelihood of a limited-scale confrontation between India and Pakistan has a high chance of spiraling into a full-scale conventional conflict employing nuclear weapons.The stability-instability paradox is replaced with an instability-instability relationship.

With all of this in mind, these various theoretical lenses provide a strong foundation in understanding India and Pakistan’s nuclear doctrines. It also helps understand how recent developments reflect the countries’ perceptions and attitudes towards each other politically and militarily.

India and Pakistan’s Nuclear Doctrine

Through press releases and other public statements, scholars have developed a clearer understanding of India and Pakistan’s nuclear doctrines. A key component of India’s doctrine is its policy of “no first use” (NFU) of nuclear weapons against all nuclear-armed states, meaning they will never initiate a nuclear first strike. However, they maintain a strong commitment to retaliate at a massive scale in response to any serious attacks designed to cause “unacceptable damage.” India has not included any provisions of graduated escalation and has not publicly named any potential adversaries, although Pakistan and China present as clear contenders. India revisits its doctrine periodically, but it has not been formally revised since 2003.

Pakistan, on the other hand, has a policy of “full-spectrum deterrence” (FSD), designed to “prevent conventional conflict at any level by the threat of nuclear first use in response to aggression.” Even without a policy of no first use, Pakistan would likely only resort to nuclear use in response to a large-scale attack. Full-spectrum deterrence includes both short, range low-yield weapons and long-range weapons that targets all parts India’s vast territory, which they have named as their sole adversary. Inflicting unacceptable damage is intrinsic to the full-spectrum method. Still, the threat of short-range weapon use is specifically meant to deny India in the event of limited conventional war.

India and Pakistan’s nuclear doctrines bear several similarities. Neither doctrine suggests preemption using nuclear weapons or utilizing a disarming first strike. There is also no explicit discussion of either counterforce targeting, which refers to targeting an opponent’s military infrastructure, or counter-value targeting, which involves targeting an opponent’s non-military assets, like cities and civilian populations. They implicitly opt for the latter; however, in Pakistan’s case, they also have not entirely discounted military targets. Both doctrines refer to the existence of a second-strike capability, which includes developing strong retaliatory measures to exact “unacceptable damage” while also emphasizing the importance of completing the nuclear triad by acquiring sea-based capabilities. More broadly, both doctrines reference command and control, fostering resiliency, and pursuing peace to prevent nuclear escalation.

The glaring difference between the two doctrines is the contrasting positions on first-strike capability. Pakistan’s lack of no first use has been worrying for Indian military leaders and policymakers; however, the asymmetry of the two doctrines is not surprising, given the stark differences in the strategic dynamics at play in each country.Pakistan is not India’s only potential adversary; in fact, India’s motivation for nuclear armament was to deter a nuclear-armed China. They categorically deny that they sought nuclear weapons solely for prestige; in their view, they are pursuing their own self-preservation. On the other hand, Pakistan’s sole threat is India, and the country’s conventionally inferior military position vis-à-vis their eastern neighbor drove their motivations to compensate for that imbalance through nuclear means.

Nuclear Forces in South Asia

Even with their nuclear doctrines, India and Pakistan discuss their nuclear weapons programs with “pervasive secrecy” and “intentional ambiguity”.However, it is evident that both countries intend to grow their weapons holdings, with a few concerning developments. Previously, both countries were believed to store their nuclear weapons in “de-mated” status, with the warheads detached from their delivery systems so they are not fully assembled. This storage method reduces the likelihood of unauthorized launch or theft of a usable nuclear device. This barrier is being eroded, largely due to “perceived imperatives for greater readiness” and other recent trends, like putting missiles in ready-to-fire canisters and Pakistan’s development of tactical nuclear weapons.

Both countries’ weapons programs consist of a mix of gravity bombs and ballistic missiles for delivery, as well as a sufficient number of cruise missiles on Pakistan’s side. Both India and Pakistan seem to have diverged from the weaponry employed by the United States and the Soviet Union during the Cold War, such as nuclear artillery shells, landmines, torpedoes, and depth charges. Yet, both countries’ existing and projected arsenals have the potential to inflict “unacceptable damage” without any assurance of preventing a second strike or ending a potential nuclear conflict. India and Pakistan also prioritize protecting their nuclear weapons and their components to promote deterrence stability in the absence of a clear dialogue or framework between the two countries about the consequences of an attack. Details of security arrangements, however, are limited, with most information coming from the government agencies themselves.

Pakistan relies predominantly on ground-based ballistic missiles, but with expansion into air-launched and ground-launched cruise missiles. While serving counterforce purposes against military targets, these missiles have the potential to hit any Indian city if they choose to adopt a counter-value strategy, implicitly supported by their doctrine. There are two Pakistani nuclear-delivery systems of profound importance due to their respectively very short and very long ranges. The Nasr missile system is comprised of four missile canisters on a wheeled transporter erector launcher. This can deliver a conventional or nuclear warhead to a range of 60-70 km.From a power projection standpoint, the development of tactical nuclear weapons, such as this, functions as an antidote to India’s “Cold Start” doctrine, which is designed to seize Pakistani territory “swiftly” without escalation into nuclear conflict. The former head of Pakistan’s Strategic Plans Division (SPD), Lieutenant General (retired) Khalid Kidwai noted that these weapons were developed “in response to concerns that India’s larger military could still wage a conventional war against the country, thinking Pakistan would not risk retaliation with a. bigger nuclear weapon.”

There are a few key problems that come with the Nasr system. This system presents the possibility that Pakistan could use nuclear weapons well before any existential threat for signaling purposes. There is also the “use it or lose dilemma”: Pakistani military leaders fear that they may lose precious nuclear assets to mishap or enemy attack before they have the chance to be used, further incentivizing their deployment. Beyond increasing Pakistan’s arsenal size, the dual capacity of this system (conventional and nuclear) leads to the discrimination problem: “How would Pakistan react if Indian forces, intentionally or not, attacked a Nasr battery?” Although India would not definitively know what type of warhead the Nasr was carrying, Pakistani leaders may perceive this as an “attack on the country’s strategic assets” and retaliate. In contrast, the Shaheen-3 ballistic missile has an extremely long range of over 2,750 km.

This missile form was developed due to reports of India potentially basing active nuclear missiles at a test site in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands in the Indian Ocean or Pakistani suspicion about an India-Seychelles Agreement to develop a naval facility on Assumption Island. Although nothing has been constructed on either site as of now, with several other potential counterforce and counter value targets in mainland India, neither of these island targets seem to be consistent with inflicting “unacceptable damage” for deterrence. The missiles themselves are concerning if turned in the opposite direction: they have the range to strike Israel and other parts of the Middle East, extending as far as Djibouti, home to Chinese and U.S. bases, and the northern Indian Ocean region.

For India, gravity bombs delivered via aircraft are prominent in their nuclear arsenal, but their portfolio of missiles for nuclear delivery is growing. Although less diverse than that of Pakistan, there are various medium-range systems for use against Pakistan and longer-range options for Chinese targets, along with several dual-purpose cruise missiles. These capabilities reflect key facets of India’s nuclear doctrine to absorb a first strike (survivability) and retaliate at a massive scale. As of now, India has not yet developed a nuclear warhead for a cruise missile, but could work with Russia for versions of the Indo-Russian BrahMos (“Brahmaputra-Moscow”), with a range of 400 km, or the homegrown Nirbhay, with a range of 1,000 km, which is currently being tested. 

Unlike Pakistan’s Nasr system, India does not seem to have a short-range, low-yield battlefield nuclear-delivery system. This is not a symbol of inferiority, as developing such a system would be inconsistent with India’s doctrine and their renouncement of the tactical nuclear weapons path. Regardless, by blurring the lines between conventional and nuclear conflict, the development of dual-capability systems presents its own misperception risks.

Key Issues: Kashmir, Jihadi Terrorism, and Countering China

Difficulties in achieving stability between two nuclear-armed states usually stem from underlying political problems. In the case of India and Pakistan, the most glaring example is their dispute over the territory of Kashmir. The Indian view sees the territory as having been a part of India since the Maharaja of Kashmir signed an instrument of accession and joined India in 1947. While the Maharaja was Hindu, Kashmir’s population is largely Muslim — aligned more with the demographic composition of the Muslim-majority nation of Pakistan — and insurgent groups have been operating in Kashmir, backed by Pakistan, advocating for official separation from India. Pakistan, on the other hand, believes that Kashmir’s accession to India was illegal and undemocratic. The Indian government finds that Pakistani support for the Kashmir insurgency and cross-border incursions into Kargil, represent a long history of Pakistani attempts to unlawfully and violently seize its sovereign territory. The Pakistani government argues that India’s continued refusal to hold a plebiscite with regard to accession denies Kashmiris the right to self-determination.

Supporting the insurgency and liberating Indian Kashmir is an integral aspect of Pakistani policy and their relations with India. While India would be willing to accept a permanent division of territory along the Line of Control (LoC), which currently separates Indian and Pakistani Kashmir, Pakistan does not welcome the status quo. As a result, they have been responsible for most of the recent cross-border aggression between the two countries. Pakistan heavily depends on insurgents and terrorist groups, like the Haqqani Network and Lashkar-e-Taiba, operating in the region to “bleed India and coerce Indians into negotiating a diplomatic settlement on Kashmir” and continue to support these groups to achieve this.

However, this poses grave consequences with nuclear weapons in consideration. The most likely source of conflict between the two countries is an Indian land incursion into Pakistan in response to a proxy terrorist attack on India. Indian Army Chief General M.M. Naravane warned that “[i]f Pakistan does not stop its policy if state-sponsored terrorism, we reserve the right to preemptively strike at the sources of terror threat…”Such a strong Indian armed response could paralyze Pakistan to the point of existential threat, whereby first use of nuclear weapons is a very real possibility. This was echoed by Pakistani Lieutenant-General (Retired) Khalid Kidwai: “[Nuclear weapons will be used only] if the very existence of Pakistan as a state is at stake… Nuclear weapons are aimed solely at India. In case that deterrence fails, they will be used if: a) India attacks Pakistan and conquers a large part of its territory (space threshold); b) India destroys a large part either of its land or air forces (military threshold); c) India proceeds to the economic strangling of Pakistan (economic strangling); and d) India pushes Pakistan into political destabilization or creates a large scale internal subversion in Pakistan (domestic destabilization).”Exercising this first strike capability and India’s subsequent retaliatory response will only prove disastrous for the future of the Indian subcontinent.

While Pakistan’s policy is solely focused on India, China is critical in India’s security calculations for both conventional and nuclear conflict. India and China have a long history of border disputes, and India’s 1962 defeat in a border war against China and more recent incidents along the Line of Actual Control in 2013, 2014, 2015, 2017, and 2020, coupled with China’s military modernization, has been of grave concern to New Delhi. From a nuclear lens, as mentioned before, India’s nuclear weapons program was spurred by China’s first nuclear test in 1964, and China’s continued advancements in nuclear technology have garnered strong, mirrored responses from India.

These worries have been heightened by the growing relationship between China and Pakistan over the past decade. Sino-Pakistani cooperation in the event of a conflict could mean a “two-front war” for India, conducting active combat operations against two militarily powerful, nuclear-armed countries. Despite these perceptions, Beijing has not offered any formal security guarantees to Islamabad for nuclear matters, and the likelihood of China threatening nuclear deployment to India at the behest of Pakistan seems low. Nevertheless, these disputes and political dynamics complicate the nuclear problem in the Indian subcontinent. 

Finding Stability

With all of this in mind, how can India and Pakistan achieve some form of quasi-nuclear stability? The short answer is by establishing confidence-building measures (CBMs) on both sides to promote trust or at the very least, dispel mistrust. 

India and Pakistan have attempted “civilian” CBMs via people-to-people contacts, commercial connections, and diplomatic exchanges.

However, this must also occur on the military level. For one, the 1988 non-attack agreement between India and Pakistan should be modernized to include very-low-frequency/extremely low-frequency transmitting stations (VLF/ELF), integral to command and control, on the non-attack list in the event of both conventional and nuclear conflict. They should also expand the agreement to cover major civilian infrastructure targets and add a “mechanism to share information about terrorism threats to facilities covered by the agreement.”From a weapons standpoint, cruise missiles should be added to the ballistic-missile-testing prenotification agreement, and there should be a formal withdrawal of outdated, nuclear-capable short-range ballistic missiles.

Despite their differences, India and Pakistan both have an incentive to collaborate on nuclear stability. They can further this by concluding key bilateral weapons agreements to curb unrestrained nuclear development, establishing jointly-manned risk-reduction centers, and most importantly, reviving an uninterrupted backchannel.

Confidence can only be achieved with communication, and by fostering trust, these adversaries can forge a path to lasting stability.

Last Saturday, eight cheetahs were flown in on a chartered Boeing 747 jet from Windhoek, Namibia, to Gwalior in the Indian state of Madhya Pradesh and then transported by helicopter to Kuno National Park. They were welcomed at the park by Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, marking the first time a large carnivore has been moved across continents and reintroduced in the wild. 

According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s list of threatened animals, the global number of cheetahs is 6,500 to 7,100. Today, they are primarily found in southern and eastern Africa and are extinct across Asia, except in Iran. Poaching, shrinking habitats and a loss of prey have proven detrimental to cheetahs, and governments and conservationists have been seeking innovative ways to protect the remaining populations. 

“To save cheetahs from extinction, we need to create permanent places for them on Earth. India has areas of grassland and forest habitat, which are appropriate for this species,” said Laurie Marker, founder of the Cheetah Conservation Fund, an international nonprofit that has helped the Indian and Namibian governments with this latest initiative. 

For the first month, the animals will be placed in a quarantine enclosure with extensive monitoring for disease and adaptation. Afterward, they will be released into the park, which spans over 285 mi². 

S.P. Yadav, who leads India’s tiger conservation organization, has spearheaded this project. “This is the only large mammal which India has lost since independence. It is our moral and ethical responsibility to restore it,” said Yadav.

According to Indian government data, the subcontinent has seen a growth in its tiger and leopard populations over the years; between 2006 and 2018, the number of tigers doubled to nearly 3,000, despite a reduction in the available forest area. Yadav said India aims to develop a viable population of cheetahs in enclosed areas. India’s plan, costing an estimated $11 million, aims to bring in about 50 cheetahs from across southern Africa over the next few years. 

There are several challenges the cheetahs might face in their new home, and not all Indian conservationists are keen on the idea. 

Leopards threaten the new cheetah cubs, along with sloth bears, striped hyenas and wolves, to which the cheetahs have not previously been exposed. Cheetahs, despite their speed, are delicate predators who avoid conflict, making them a target for competing predators. Additionally, in unfenced reserves like Kuno, there is the chance that the cheetahs could stray away from each other. To combat this, the cheetahs will be monitored by either satellite or VHF tracking collars to keep them in the main area of the park.

Ravi Chellam, a wildlife biologist and conservation scientist based in Bangalore, claims that the project’s scientific foundations are “weak” and its desired conservation effects are “unrealistic.” Even in the most viable habitats, cheetahs live in very low densities, of about one animal per 38 mi². That means Kuno National Park could only accommodate seven to eight cheetahs. “How will a self-sustaining, wild and free-ranging population of cheetahs be able to establish themselves in India when there is no suitable habitat of sufficient size for them to do so?”

He also adds that while he doesn’t oppose the cheetah project, he believes that there are more pressing conservation efforts that India should be focusing on, specifically, the relocation of Asiatic lions from forests in the state of Gujarat, the only population of this subspecies left in the world. However, the Environment Ministry and the respective state governments have not pursued the 2013 Supreme Court ordering the lions’ relocation to Kuno, where the cheetahs have just been released. “India’s wildlife action plan that guides conservation over a 15-year period prioritizes native species that need a high degree of protection,” said Chellam. “We are in 2022, and there are no signs of lions being translocated.”

Other officials, like Yadvendradev Jhala, dean of the Wildlife Institute of India, are more hopeful about the project’s prospects, believing that Kuno has sufficient space and prey, as well as less human pressure, all key to the cheetah’s survival.

Nevertheless, this is a globally important project, a major experiment in cheetah conservation. In the words of Adrian Tordiffe, a veterinary wildlife professor at the University of Pretoria: “The cheetah reintroduction into India is a bold step in terms of conservation and one that is desperately needed if we are to have any chance of saving this species from extinction.” India’s first venture into conservation diplomacy can not help restore this endangered species but opens up new avenues for similar initiatives around the world.

Johnson was a prominent champion for the Vote Leave campaign and has played a critical role in Brexit negotiations both as the foreign secretary under Theresa May’s government and as prime minister. However, Brexit-related challenges and Johnson’s own notoriety have seriously undermined the Conservative Party and the government. 

The resignation is the culmination of months of crisis for Johnson’s government. Recent revelations, beginning with reports of top British political figures, including Johnson himself, attending parties in violation of COVID-19 lockdown protocols, and later, the government’s mismanagement of abuse allegations by Conservative MPs, have made it difficult to retain political will. 

However, what raised alarm bells and eventually prompted Johnson’s decision were a series of high-profile resignations, beginning with Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak and Health Secretary Sajid Javid on July 5 and followed by exits across all ranks of Johnson’s government. The following evening, a delegation of senior ministers visited the prime minister to convey that the Conservative Party had lost confidence in his leadership and called for him to step down. 

Johnson voiced this sentiment in his announcement on the morning of July 7: “It is clearly now the will of the parliamentary Conservative party that there should be a new leader of that party and therefore a new prime minister.”

He said that he intends to serve until a new leader is in place on September 5. Yet, the door to 10 Downing Street has been re-opened, and the question looms: Who will be the next U.K. prime minister? 

The Candidates 

Last night, the Conservative Party announced the eight candidates who will compete to replace Boris Johnson as prime minister and leader of the Conservative Party. 

The leading contenders include former Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak, whose resignation sparked last week’s political drama; trade policy minister Penny Mordaunt, who served as the U.K.’s first female defense secretary and Foreign Secretary Liz Truss. 

Other possibilities are Conservative lawmaker Tom Tugendhat; former Health Secretary Jeremy Hunt, newly appointed Chancellor Nadhim Zahawi; Attorney General Suella Braverman and former Minister for Equalities Kemi Badenoch.

Defense Secretary Ben Wallace and former Health Secretary Sajid Javid, who resigned along with Sunak, had both expressed interest in the nomination but ultimately decided to withdraw themselves from consideration. 

The frontrunners in the race are Sunak, Mordaunt and Truss, who have remained relatively unscathed from controversy or have strongly opposed Johnson’s government.

Rishi Sunak 

Had it not been for reports earlier this year of Sunak’s wife’s non-domiciled tax status and that he held a U.S. green card while a minister, the former chancellor was the favorite to succeed Johnson — due to his steady performance during the COVID-19 pandemic managing the country’s economic and financial policy. After former prime minister May’s resignation in 2019, Sunak supported Johnson’s campaign, but the tides have evidently turned, given his critical role in the revolt against Johnson. His resignation last Tuesday has pushed him further in the spotlight, carving a clear place for him in the upcoming prime minister’s race. Given his track record, in his bid, Sunak will push for fiscal responsibility, cutting taxes and shrinking the state. 

Penny Mordaunt 

Another favorite, trade minister Mordaunt has long been a critic of the former prime minister. In last month’s confidence vote, Mordaunt declined to say whether she backed Johnson but stated: “I didn’t choose this prime minister.” Although a key supporter of the Brexit referendum, she is also a member of the One Nation caucus, representing liberal Conservative MPs. Coupled with her “anti-Johnson stance,” Mordaunt’s moderate stance has seen her rise in recent years. Despite being a junior minister outside the cabinet, she leads the latest poll from the Conservative Home website asking party members who they want as the next prime minister. Those close to Mordaunt have indicated that in her pitch, “[s]he  will talk up being pro-Brexit, advocating Global Britain and social liberalism.” 

Liz Truss 

The foreign secretary has been eyeing Conservative Party leadership since becoming international trade secretary in 2019. A political veteran, having served in a wide range of cabinet roles, she has been the subject of recent praise for her handling of the war in Ukraine and her relatively hard-line stance on Brexit. Although she backed Remain in the 2016 referendum, Truss has become one of the staunchest defenders of Brexit, which has positively impacted her bid for power. Echoing the leadership style of former prime minister Margaret Thatcher, she will focus on libertarian ideals, or “Thatcherism on steroids,” as described by one official. 

What’s To Come 

This is not a general election; the decision does not lie with the people of the United Kingdom. However, the country and the world will watch as contenders are “whittled down” by Conservative lawmakers through a series of secret ballot votes until two finalists remain. Then, the final decision on September 5 is made by due-paying Conservative party members, who, despite their growth in recent years, constitute less than 0.3% of the population. In the meantime, candidates will hold their “hustings” or campaign events and do whatever else it takes to become the next leader of the United Kingdom. 

An ally of strategic importance for the West, India has taken on the title of the “world’s largest democracy,” presented as a beacon of “freedom” in the Indo-Pacific region to counter the authoritarian leanings of China. However, for much of its history and even more so under Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his Hindu nationalist government, marginalization, more so than democracy, seems to be at the heart of Indian political society. 

The Origins: British Imperialism, The Post-colonial State and the Rise of the BJP 

Contrary to popular belief, the Indian caste system in its most widespread and rigid form is a product of colonialism. In fact, fueling caste and religious strife were instruments of British power and authority — by creating divisions among the people, there would be no united front to rise up against them. Even with eventual Indian independence from Britain, the religious divide between Hindus and Muslims proved difficult to reconcile and led to India’s partition into the separate nations of India and Pakistan, and later, Bangladesh. 

While a formal ban of the caste system was passed in 1948 and other political strides have occurred since the modern state has carried on its predecessors’ legacy of marginalization under the veil of post-colonial democracy. 

This sets the stage for the rise of Narendra Modi and his Hindu nationalist party, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). While India is incredibly diverse, Hindus make up 80% of the country’s population, and to Modi and BJP members, India is “fundamentally a Hindu rashtra (nation).” The BJP is guided by a “core philosophy of Hindutva (Hindu-ness)” at the expense of the country’s other minority groups, an idea they have consistently expressed in Parliament and in other public forums. 

The BJP is not solely a party of religion — they are strongly pro-business and believe in robust foreign and national security policies. Before his ascension to prime minister, Modi served as the chief minister of the state of Gujarat, which saw tremendous economic growth and investment under his tenure. So in 2014, in the midst of an economic downturn, Modi ran for prime minister on a promise to bring the same prosperity he did to Gujarat to the rest of the country. 

From his initial rise to the national stage, Modi’s skills as a public speaker and his inspiring life story helped him construct a charismatic public persona and gain the strong base he still holds today. Throughout his first term, 88% of the Indian population, or nearly nine-in-ten Indians, held a favorable opinion of Modi. And even as his political message shifted — from capitalist to religious fundamentalist; from populist to authoritarian — his followers have stuck by him. 

Marginalization as a Political and Societal Tool 

Modi has expressed anti-Muslim tendencies as early as his tenure as chief minister of Gujurat, but it has only amplified in his time as Prime Minister. This sentiment is not only voiced in his rhetoric but is prevalent institutionally. Modi’s re-election in 2019 was the “first time in independent India where the ruling party does not have a single Muslim representative in Parliament despite the population of Muslims in India being 190 million.”

Later that year, the Modi administration passed the Citizenship (Amendment) Act (CAA) that made religion a basis for granting citizenship for the first time in Indian history. The law “specifically fast-tracks asylum claims of non-Muslim irregular immigrants from the neighboring Muslim-majority countries of Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Pakistan.” Along with a plan for a national citizenship verification process aimed to identify “illegal migrants,” there are fears that if deemed illegal by the BJP government, “millions of Indian Muslims, including many families who have lived in the country for generations, could be stripped of their citizenship rights and disenfranchised.” 

Modi has defended the policies as not being discriminatory, saying that “Muslims are a part of our nation, and they have equal rights and duties as others.” However, he has not taken an initiative to “rein in his party members and supporters who routinely vilify Muslims, or press state governments to prosecute those responsible for abuses.” 

This is in conjunction with a rise in lynchings against religious minorities orchestrated by “cow vigilantes,” or religious zealots aiming to enforce beef bans, as the cow is considered a sacred animal in Hinduism. During Modi’s first term, 44 people were killed in these cow-protection attacks — 36 of whom were Muslim. Police stalled the prosecutions of the attackers, and BJP lawmakers publicly supported the attacks, going as far as offering financial and legal support to perpetrators. 

More recently, in 2021, hate speech and attacks against minorities in their places of worship have skyrocketed. There were at least 300 acts of violence against religious minorities in the first nine months, but very few of the perpetrators have faced any consequences and no arrests have been made. 

Instead, state governments have reinforced these ideas by passing several new laws. On Dec. 23, the lower house of parliament in the state of Karnataka passed the Protection of Right to Freedom of Religion bill, which would prohibit conversion from Hinduism to another religion.“Violators” could be met with fines or even incarceration.  

A few days later, on Christmas, Modi’s government blocked the Missionaries of Charity, founded by Mother Teresa and a significant source of funding for churches in India, from receiving foreign contributions. That same day, BJP lawmaker Tejasvi Surya publicly called for a ghar wapsi (“return home”), or the conversion of Christians and Muslims “back” to Hinduism. 

The national government has not condemned the attacks against minority groups. Modi, who has not held a press conference in years, and the Indian Minister of Home Affairs, Amit Shah, have both not commented on the recent uptick in religiously motivated hate crimes. 

Even with these authoritarian trends, Modi has mostly maintained his popularity — aside from fluctuations due to the economic impacts of COVID-19. He has been able to create a base across age and socioeconomic groups, with surprisingly strong support from millennials. India has one of the largest millennial populations, making up over 400 million of its population, and according to polling data from the 2019 election, nearly 40% of those ages 18 to 35 voted for the BJP. For millions of Indians, 

Modi represents a shift from the “English-speaking, Western-educated technocrats who shared little in common with the country’s largely-agrarian and vernacular-speaking population” towards leaders “who speak, pray, and look like them.” His promises of social mobility for the middle class and empowerment of the country’s large labor force have only reinforced his popularity. 

While a polarizing and controversial figure to many, he does have significant support among non-resident Indians (NRIs) living in Western countries. This can be attributed to his numerous high-profile visits from the United States to Australia, which has generated large turnouts – over 20,000 NRIs from across North America attended a Modi-led event in Madison Square Garden in 2014, and he garnered a crowd of over 50,000 in Houston in 2019. Modi’s “sustained and substantive engagement” with the Indian diaspora has been a key focal point of his foreign policy, and his “universal” vision has helped him develop a similar base of support abroad as he did at home. 

What Comes Next? 

Marginalization is not new to India, but under Modi, religious tensions and attacks on minorities have soared to unprecedented heights. Through political and legal means, the BJP’s Hindutva rhetoric has left the livelihoods of millions hanging in the balance. But in Modi’s pursuit of a Hindu rashtra, India is losing its strategic leverage in South Asia, and its traditional role of promoting harmony in the region is steadily weakening. 

Yashwant Sinha, former Indian foreign minister, commented that “[t]he openly partisan approach to communal issues has created a very peculiar situation for us as far as that moral high ground in neighborhood policy is concerned.” 

Aparna Pande, director of the India initiative at the Hudson Institution, similarly noted, “If you are pushing a nationalist narrative, it is difficult to then ask your neighbors to not do the same… You will then see every country in South Asia becoming more nationalist and, forget about anything else, that creates a strategic challenge for India.” 

The coming year will be crucial for Modi and the BJP to take a stand against religiously motivated attacks, if not to promote human rights but to protect the country’s security interests. 

Will the “world’s largest democracy” survive? Only time will tell. 

Just as traditional political landscapes present risks of conflict, cyberspace allows actors to perpetrate attacks more readily and with less fear of attribution. This poses serious implications for global democracy, especially as authoritarian powers like China and Russia shore up their cyber capabilities.

Authoritarianism and Democracy-Building in Cyberspace

Authoritarian states rely on control for survival, and that includes controlling the ideas and information that flows within and across its borders. Advancements in information and communication technologies (ICTs) promote greater global connectivity between different groups of people, a source of power for the powerless that can seriously threaten authoritarian nations.

This is the view that has shaped American democracy-building for ages: the democratization of communications will spark the democratization of the world. These communication tools symbolize the American beliefs in the power of innovation for peace and that the Internet, an American technology, will enable widespread adoption of American political ideas. Americans have consistently championed the Internet’s power to promote pluralism in authoritarian regimes, like during the Arab Spring or the 2011 revolutions in North Africa and the Middle East. 

The idea that cyberspace can promote democracy is a reassuring thought welcomed by Western powers. In reality, modern communications are value-neutral and can equally be used for non-democratic thought. According to Robin Mansell of the London School of Economics, cyberspace presents “many opportunities for new forms of business and governance as well as for new forms of criminal or unwanted behavior.” 

For individual users, the Internet and other tools provide access to a wide range of information, as well as a platform to voice ideas and beliefs of all natures. As argued by Jaron Lanier in You Are Not A Gadget, cyberspace can be a dark place, and the anonymity provided by the internet can promote a “culture of sadism,” feeding an appetite for attacks and violent thoughts not permissible in everyday life.

ICTs are also readily available for government use. In many authoritarian states, these tools enable them to suppress political opposition and manipulate the conversation to advance their geopolitical goals. 

China is using cyberspace to promote national pride at the expense of the West and regional powers, like Japan and Taiwan, and to justify their subjugation of minority groups like Uyghurs and Tibetans. On the other hand, Russia uses this realm to disseminate information campaigns to undermine democratic processes and fuel political divisiveness in the West.  

In the past, the “strongman politics” of authoritarian governments created systems of state capitalism that promoted economic growth while retaining political control.  They are now using the same strategy to still reap the economic benefits of cyberspace without letting it undermine its political power. For instance, the Chinese government, in its statement on the rights and responsibilities of Internet users, “guarantee[s]the citizens’ freedom of speech on the Internet as well as the public’s right to know, to participate, to be heard, and to oversee [the government]in accordance with the law.” But it also stipulates that “within Chinese territory, the Internet is under the jurisdiction of Chinese sovereignty.”

Private Technology Companies: The Cyber “Strongmen” 

Cyberspace is unique in that, unlike traditional politics, it is governed not by various nation-states but by private technological companies. Consequently, efforts by authoritarian states to control ICTs have led to commercial conflicts between these governments and the private sector.

In 2010, Google reported a breach of private Gmail accounts by attackers in China, and in response, announced that it would no longer be censoring search results in mainland China. With Beijing refusing to back down from stringent censorship requirements, Google announced the shutdown of the Chinese site and redirected all mainland Chinese users to the uncensored Hong Kong version of the site. Chinese officials eventually renewed Google’s operating license. While this may seem like a win, China continues to develop its domestic technological sector and provides legal and financial support to these firms to abide by their censorship requirements. In the long run, companies like Google are slowly losing their war against the Chinese government’s censorship. 

Unable to counter U.S. military defenses, China and Russia are also using information warfare tactics as a military strategy. In efforts to create a more definitive role for themselves in the domain of cyberspace, China has pushed a vision of “cyber sovereignty.” At the 2015 World Internet Conference, President Xi described cyber sovereignty as “respecting each country’s right to choose its own internet development path, its own internet management model, and its own public policies on the internet.” This position is in sharp contrast with the United States and private technology companies that view cyberspace as an “open, global platform.” 

These developments are drawing Western technology companies to work more closely with U.S. national security agencies to protect their interests and prevent further co-opting by authoritarian regimes. 

The complicated relationship between Washington and Silicon Valley may prove this challenging. Before 2013, the two sides had a shared mission advocating for free speech, reducing international trade barriers and promoting ICTs and the “Internet Revolution.” However, the reach of Western technological platforms would soon prove damaging in light of the Snowden revelations, which showed just how extensively national security agencies had penetrated these platforms without their knowledge for surveillance purposes. Both civilians and non-civilians use the same commercially-sourced networks and devices; as such, the data of terrorist organizations and other threats to national security could be stored on these very same devices and networks — making the widely-used Silicon Valley platforms a constant target to hackers and the intelligence community alike. 

Nevertheless, the sense of betrayal felt by Western technology companies, coupled with their commitment to an open Internet and economic interests, has led them to increasingly define themselves not as “American” but as “global actors.” In response, many tech officials have pushed for a broader definition of cybersecurity that extends past U.S. national security and prioritizes the security of the companies themselves and their users. Silicon Valley has acted on this in a number of public disputes: notably, in 2015, Apple’s refusal to allow the FBI to unlock the iPhone of one of the perpetrators of the San Bernardino terrorist attacks. 

Despite this antagonism, the combination of a “more assertive Chinese cyber diplomacy, the globalization of Chinese technology giants and China’s position as a leading hub for artificial intelligence research and development” now gives Washington and Silicon Valley a common enemy.

Human Rights in Cybersecurity Strategy 

The greatest obstacle is finding an effective cyber strategy that provides enough protection from cyberattacks without undermining human rights. Understanding cybersecurity requires defining security in general: “Security for whom? Security from what? And security by what means?” For a state, security is protection from political instability; it can go as far as ensuring self-preservation by any means necessary, which in many cases, leads to even greater insecurity for civilians. Governments often protect national security at the expense of human rights, like the right to privacy, freedom of expression, assembly, etc. In cyberspace, this comes at the cost of the “availability, confidentiality and integrity of information and its underlying infrastructure.” 

In the digital age, managing cyberspace should be regarded not as a national security issue but as a human rights issue. Governments consistently push for weakening encryption to provide access to law enforcement, even though this in turn weakens human security. Threats to cyberspace should not be a pretext to undermine human rights, and human rights should not be a part of the trade-off for greater security. In fact, cybersecurity and human rights are “complementary, mutually reinforcing and interdependent. Therefore, a necessary step is applying a human rights-based approach in how we pursue cybersecurity and rooting cyber decision-making in international law.

There are inherent problems with how international law currently regards cyberspace. The UN has held since 2013 that international law, specifically humanitarian law, applies in cyberspace. This presents a few challenges. For one, differences in national law have made it challenging to create a universally applicable framework to protect human rights from “lesser” cyberattacks — such as hate speech over the Internet. Specifically, lawmakers struggle to strike the appropriate balance between the “protection of reputation from defamatory speech” and the “right to freedom of expression.” 

In the case of cyberattacks, it is also unclear whether or not liability should fall on the “perpetrator” or the Internet Service provider for failing to prevent the attack. Cyberlaw scholar Diane Rowland explains that “’[t]he application of existing legal rules and pre-existing tension between rights of reputation and those of free speech’ should pertain, notwithstanding the fact that the stability of the law and its enforcement and challenged by the global reach of the Internet and many different local legal and cultural norms.” 

Another issue is that the focus on humanitarian law is flawed. For one, international humanitarian law only applies in times of armed conflict. Most cyber threats occur in times of peace, and linking cyberspace with international humanitarian law can perpetuate the notion that states are in constant cyber conflict and lead to even more cyberattacks.

The Solution

There must be an institutional shift towards international human rights law, which applies both in times of war and peace. There has been some progress on this front – international human rights bodies have provided specific guidance regarding cybersecurity, emphasizing the need for strong encryption and condemning network shutdowns for violating human rights and removing access to information. The next goal is to develop norms for responsible state behavior in cyberspace. Existing international human rights norms provide a basis for this, but there is a “serious implementation gap.” For instance, the UN’s proposed cyber Programme of Action (PoA) was a step in the right direction to limit the manipulation of cyberspace by state actors. Still, it is not a legally binding instrument. It merely signals the political intention to address a global issue. A stronger move is establishing a permanent UN forum to consider the impacts of cyberspace policies on human rights.

For there to be a sustainable solution that generates monumental change, above all else, there needs to be a multi-stakeholder environment that includes all relevant actors to promote greater transparency, trust, inclusiveness, and equity in cyberspace. There are currently no consistent practices in the public and private sectors that assess the human rights impact of ICT solutions. Therefore, protecting human rights in cyberspace and maintaining an inclusive information society requires collaboration between governments, private sector actors that operate networks and platforms and new Internet governance institutions that manage technical infrastructure to implement these norms. 

However, with the domination of private technology companies and state actors’ lack of coordination capability, significant strides need to be made to ensure a well-balanced relationship. This necessitates greater scrutiny and oversight of technology companies. The platforms and networks used to launch cyberattacks should serve as the “first line of defense” in cyberattacks. Along with human rights impact assessments, technology companies should also be involved in cybersecurity due diligence to review the “governance, processes, and controls” used to secure the information on their platforms. Governments can also regulate the technology sector to prevent and mitigate human rights violations. Through international legal mechanisms and multilateral cooperation, we can effectively protect cyberspace without undermining human rights.

The rapidly evolving realm of cyberspace presents many opportunities to promote democracy, but authoritarian governments have also exploited it to advance their national interest and suppress political dissent. 

Yet, when overly regarded through the lens of national security, protecting cyberspace can also threaten human rights. As cyberspace continues to grow in coming years, so will the threat of cyberspace conflict — and while bearing similarities to traditional spheres of conflict, a novel domain like cyberspace requires novel solutions. 

Information and communication technologies may be inherently value-neutral, but with the right balance, they can be tools for greater global connectivity, and in turn, greater democracy and human rights.

Although climate discussions consistently focus on emission reduction and carbon markets, COP26, in particular, aims to advance much-needed progress in energy policy. Globally, the energy sector contributes over two-thirds of greenhouse gas emissions. Moreover, while the energy sector exacerbates climate change, worsening conditions from climate change have detrimentally impacted energy industries in developing countries, affecting water access, transport, and other industry mechanisms. As a result, energy will be a focus area for climate policymakers in Glasgow. 

The organizational framework of COP26 can be best understood through four categories: mitigation, adaptation, finance and collaboration.

Mitigation

The global community is currently not on track to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius, the warming target outlined in the Paris Agreement. Instead, based on current estimates, warming is projected to be well above 3 degrees Celsius by 2100. In order to prevent catastrophe, the world must halve emissions over the next decade and reach net-zero carbon emissions by 2050 to prevent rampant global temperature increases. 

COP26 will re-emphasize the importance of nationally determined contributions. According to the Paris Agreement, every country agreed to share and update their emissions reduction targets every five years. 2020 was the end of the first of these five-year cycles, and countries will be entering the conference with updates for their 2030 targets. It is essential for developed countries, the largest emitters, to take the lead on critical action items to reduce emissions: accelerating the transition away from coal, encouraging investment in renewables, protecting and restoring nature by halting deforestation and pushing towards zero-emission vehicles. 

However, national efforts to assuage the onslaught of climate change must begin with mitigation tactics to reduce each nation’s contribution to greenhouse emissions.

Adaptation

Despite mitigation efforts, climate change has already had a devastating impact worldwide, and further change is inevitable. Each country is supposed to produce an adaptation communication, summarizing how they plan to adapt to impacts of climate change and where they need help. A key action item involves planning and financing for improving and building early warning systems, flood defenses, resilient infrastructure and agriculture. Specifically, in the energy sector, initiatives will pertain to constructing renewable energy systems to promote energy transition and reduce energy poverty in the developing world. 

These adaptation strategies should focus on supporting vulnerable populations that are particularly susceptible to the impending impact of climate change. As countries develop their adaptation communication, each plan should foreground high-risk communities in flood zones and on shorelines, directly in the path of climate change without adequate defense. 

Finance and Collaboration 

Significant progress cannot occur without finance and multilateral collaboration. Energy development requires all forms of finance: public finance to develop infrastructure and private finance to fund technology, innovation and climate investment. It is here where developing countries need as much additional support as possible. At COP26, developing countries will push for developed countries to deliver on the promise to raise at least $100 billion annually in climate finance to support clean development. 

Climate NGOs and activists will also advocate for considering a net-zero transition in financial decisions, even in private investment and all spending for pandemic stimulus packages and economic rebuilding. In addition, ey financial actors such as central banks and the private sector (banks, insurers, investors and financial firms) should work towards greater transparency and align this shift to net-zero emissions. 

The broad cooperative goals of COP26 are to finalize the Paris Rulebook and work together towards Action Items. For the rulebook, countries will seek to find a solution on carbon markets with carbon credits that support the net-zero transition, resolve transparency issues by creating a universal system to promote keeping national commitments and broker an agreement that drives governments to focus on the 1.5 degree Celsius goal. 

Multilateral coalitions have already been formed to address key energy concerns, and COP26 will be a critical platform to showcase and further their work. 

To meet the Paris Agreement’s goals, the movement away from coal and towards clean power needs to be 5x faster than current efforts. Fortunately, solar and wind power are now cheaper than coal in most countries. The Energy Transition Council and Powering Past Coal Alliance have already begun facilitating this. With membership from the World Bank, International Energy Agency (IEA), among others, the Energy Transition Council works to ensure clean power is the most viable option for the new power generation. This involves supporting countries in making an equitable transition away from coal. Similarly, the Powering Past Coal Alliance is an international public-private partnership aiming to phase out coal power and end international financing of coal plants. 

COP26 can amplify these coalition’s initial steps by pledging to restrict the construction of new coal plants and phase out coal power entirely by 2030 in developed countries and 2040 in developing countries. While ending coal power, countries should help scale up clean power by encouraging investment into renewables and increasing energy efficiency.

The RE100 initiative, led by the Climate Group, unifies influential businesses committed to 100% renewable energy in the private sector. With over 300 members in 175+ markets, they are already driving 300+ TWh/yr in renewable energy. The Climate Group also enables energy-smart companies to improve energy productivity through the EP100 initiative, lowering global energy demand and accelerating the clean energy transition. This is in conjunction with the IEA’s initiative between 19 member governments to address global energy challenges and promote energy efficiency worldwide. The group seeks to increase transparency and identify best practices and opportunities for cooperation. 

Putting It All Together

Successful buy-in into these multilateral initiatives requires global powers to lead at COP26. The United States, with its re-entry into the Paris Climate Accords and the Biden/Harris Climate Goals, is set to do just that. 

The current administration’s climate goals, ranging from net-zero transition, mobilizing climate finance, transforming energy and transport systems and creating adaptation mechanisms, align directly with the main objectives of COP26. The conference will provide a forum for the United States to pioneer new multilateral initiatives and serve as an opportunity to demonstrate commitment to combating climate change and restoring public trust after the previous administration’s withdrawal from the Paris Agreement. 

COP26 can tackle climate change and meet key goals with clearly defined objectives, multilateral cooperation and strong leadership. In the energy sector, discussions must prioritize reducing emissions by prioritizing energy transition and investment into renewable energy, aiming to reach net-zero emissions by 2050 and ending energy poverty in the developing world. 

The United States, along with other developed nations, as the largest emitters have an obligation to not only lead but also support developing nations in reaching their targets. COP26 is the “world’s best last chance” for meaningful climate action, and energy sector reform is essential to save the planet before it is too late. 

Sabyasachi focuses on Indian bridal wear and is best described as a mix of “strong traditionalism” and “subtle individualism.” The brand epitomizes Indian luxury and ingenuity and is a fan-favorite among the Indian elite. There is a strong emphasis on process, which Mukherjee finds intrinsic to Indian fashion. To him, each design is a slowly crafted work of art. 

For Mukherjee and others in the Indian fashion community, the H&M x Sabyasachi collection showcases Indian soft power and is a way to give the Western mass-market a long-overdue introduction to Indian high fashion. It also serves the larger aim of democratizing the industry by making designer and luxury fashion more accessible. In an interview with Elle, Mukherjee said, “If I’m able to create a bridge between my world and the international audience by staying true to who I am and keeping my authenticity alive, this collection becomes symbolic of a more inclusive fashion industry, where designers from India and countries like ours move into the global fray.” 

Selling out within minutes, the collaboration seemed successful. However, it was also met with intense backlash. Twitter resounded with complaints about the high price point and the unrecognizable “overly Westernized” designs. The most profound critiques had to do with the partnership itself.

H&M, as one of the largest fast-fashion retailers, has a notorious track record of labor exploitation and environmental degradation in developing countries, particularly India. Even with its “Conscious” collection, a line made from recycled and eco-friendly materials, and in-store clothing recycling program, they have not made significant strides toward improving their unsustainable practices. 

In terms of labor rights, H&M failed to achieve its promise of paying 850,000 of its workers a living wage by 2018. In the same year, H&M’s supplier factories were named in reports by the Global Labour Justice, highlighting the abuse of female garment workers. Despite its aims to reduce its environmental impact and the launch of its first Higg Index Sustainability Profile this year to promote transparency, H&M is not meaningfully reducing greenhouse gas emissions generated by its unsustainable, fast fashion model. 

Looking at India specifically, the garment sector is the second largest provider of employment in the country, employing over 40 million workers and contributing 7% to industry output and 2% to the GDP. Some work in factories while others work from home, a system created to escape government regulation and international certification agencies. According to research conducted by the University of California, Berkeley, most home-based workers are women and girls from minority or marginalized communities. Roughly one in five home-based garment workers are aged 17 and under. The author of the University of California report, Siddharth Kara, described the workers as “… a powerless population whose vulnerability is directly exploited by the subcontractors who engage them, and the garment industry at large.”

To maintain fast fashion retailers’ rapid production cycles and relatively low price points, workers receive wages as low as $0.13 to $0.15 USD per hour and have virtually no way to report abusive conditions. In large factories, workers are subject to long hours, low wages, unsafe work environments, and child/gender exploitation. The report also found that these fast-fashion companies are aware of the outsourcing to home workers and their hazardous working conditions but have not publicly acknowledged it and let the practice continue. 

Fast fashion also contributes to environmental degradation, with a heightened impact on developing countries. Textile dyeing, for example, is an extremely damaging process and is the second-largest contributor to water pollution, according to the UNEP. Dyeing clothes requires immense quantities of water and chemicals that are subsequently dumped into rivers and waterways. The World Resources Institute claims that over 5.9 trillion liters of water are used each year for fabric dyeing alone; the World Bank has found 72 toxic chemicals present in waterways due to textile dyeing. 

In India, rivers are essential for the livelihood of the majority of the population and hold tremendous religious and cultural significance. Water contamination on such a large scale has created a massive pollution problem in the country. Without potable water, India cannot sustain its largest industry, agriculture, which employs around 58% of the population. Contamination has destroyed local ecosystems, caused significant health problems and contaminated the food supply. 

In addition to textile dyeing, fast fashion creates a cycle of unfettered consumption and waste. Almost 85% of textiles end up in landfills, where they take up to 200 years to decompose. This fuels even more pollution as clothes are burned or release greenhouse gases while sitting in landfills. 

This is not to say that the retailers are entirely to blame. In India’s case, the government fails to uphold labor protection in the fast fashion industry. It has, in fact, benefited from the growing garment sector that is rivaling China’s booming manufacturing economy. The same goes for unsustainable environmental practices, like textile dyeing, which are also rarely regulated or monitored. Nevertheless, continued implicit support of fast fashion retailers, coupled with zero accountability, gives the government no incentive to change. 

Fighting against fast fashion requires a united front between the private sector, government and society. Government regulation and reform will only occur if there is wide-scale public condemnation of the industry. The H&M x Sabyasachi collection was well-intentioned: it sought to display Indian designers and soft power to democratize and diversify fashion. However, until there is equity for the millions of laborers and those impacted by environmentally harmful practices in India and other developing countries, fashion can and will not be truly democratic. 

The Biden administration is inheriting a host of problems from its predecessor. But with its relatively blank slate, the administration needs to make its mark on the sphere of international development. 

The United States Agency for International Development (USAID) — which experienced a budget cut of over 22% under the Trump administration — seems to have lost its teeth over the past four years. Once a hallmark for international assistance and development, USAID suffered under leadership from the White House in the last four years. In particular, Trump’s foreign policy doctrine of selective engagement and withdrawal has only hurt its cause. But with new leadership in 2021, there are many options in play. Should the Biden administration opt for gradual improvement or ambitious innovation? What issues should it tackle first? To make up for lost time, it seems as though innovation is the only viable strategy — beginning with reforming the foreign aid system. 

According to the World Bank, in 2018, over $165 billion was spent on official development assistance. Yet, foreign aid is still a topic of controversy in the international community — and for many reasons. Among scholars and practitioners, there is uncertainty over how foreign aid is defined and measured, as well as how it should be allocated. Additionally, one topic of contention is what the underlying motivations of donor countries are and how intent may hinder USAID’s effectiveness in promoting development. 

In its current form, the foreign aid system is flawed. The burdens of aid and a donor dominated system have distorted the development process – only providing short-term relief in developing countries while reinforcing weak institutions and corruption.

From Michael Todaro and Stephen Smith, foreign aid is best defined as: “all official grants and concessional loans in currency or in kind that are aimed at transferring resources from developed nations to less-developed nations on development, poverty, or income distribution.” 

Most aid comes with strings attached, known as “tied foreign aid,” or conditional foreign aid, giving little bargaining power to recipient countries. Donor countries often control how aid is used, choose who the recipients are, and define its terms and conditions. Tied aid can have detrimental consequences for recipient countries. It can burden them with debt repayment, a current reality for much of the developing world. It can also drive up import costs since developing countries are often required to purchase capital and goods from the donor, when they could find better low-cost goods for development.

Aid without conditions, known as “untied aid,” or unconditional aid, has its own set of drawbacks. Untied aid is often given to a country with little to no research; historical precedent shows a high likelihood that corrupt officials use it to reinforce their own power. In all forms, foreign aid can prove harmful to the development process.

Scholars often identify the foreign aid regime as using a system of “top-down strategies,” where the wealthy donor countries are the key decision-makers. In practice, there is a clear pattern of donors promoting their strategic interests rather than helping the countries with the most need. 

The United States’ aid allocation is a prime example of this. South Asia, where nearly 50% of the world’s poorest people live, receives only $8 per person in aid. Meanwhile, the Middle East, a region of particular strategic interest to the United States (due to political influence, natural resources and geopolitical caution), has well over triple South Asia’s per capita income but receives nine times the per capita aid. Since the War on Terror began following the events of 9/11, the largest country-level aid recipients were Iraq with $61 billion and Afghanistan with $133 billion. Meanwhile, India, which has the largest number of impoverished people in the world, received only $2 per person in aid. 

Poverty rates should not be the only consideration for foreign aid — both Iraq and Afghanistan are war-torn nations with refugee crises, sectarian violence, among other issues. However, the majority of U.S. international assistance was not used for disaster relief or economic development — it was used for military or security purposes. It is no coincidence that the countries that receive the most aid have a significant U.S. military presence, while the country with the largest amount of poverty received much less aid. 

The European Union (EU) displays a similar trend. According to Allison Carnegi and Nikolav Marinov in the American Journal of Political Science, the country of origin of the European Council’s president affects which countries receive aid. There was a “consistent, large, and uncontroversial finding [that]former colonizers give disproportionate amounts of aid to their former colonies.” Quantitatively, a country that normally receives $20 million in aid would receive about $3.6 million more if the president is from their former colonizer country. Since the presidency rotates every six months, this creates tremendous volatility in the European Council’s aid plans. 

It is clear that foreign aid allocation is a mechanism of control, rather than an act of benevolence on the part of developed countries. Donors are not promoting development. Instead, they reinforce the distribution of power skewed in their favor, at the expense of developing countries.

Developed countries as the decision-makers in foreign aid present other issues. Their allocation strategies often suffer from complex data problems – those at the top simply do not have enough information to help developing countries. 

This explains the long history of bureaucracies mistaking symptoms of underdevelopment as causes. Donors often identified low levels of investment, poor education and the absence of modern industry as causes of underdevelopment. In reality, the source of underdevelopment is weak institutions and policies. This is evident in Zambia’s case. If lack of capital was the fundamental cause of Zambia’s underdevelopment, massive amounts of aid should have addressed this. However, without institutional reform, Zambia has seen virtually no increase in per capita income and remains underdeveloped. William Easterly in Foreign Policy calls this phenomenon the “Utopian Nightmare.” 

Donors could pursue institutional change but they hold back for economic reasons. When deciding between changing actions or altering institutions, donors opt for the less costly option: changing policies, although their efforts are eventually short-lived.

The current foreign aid system provides “band-aid” solutions rather than long-term relief. Aid culture has left Africa debt-laden and more vulnerable economically. African countries pay up to $20 billion in debt repayment per annum, at the expense of investing in education and health. Aid has also fueled corruption. The World Bank has contributed $100 billion for development, but in the DRC, Malawi, and Zambia, corrupt leaders used development funds for their personal gain. 

NGO-led aid has seen some success, like with smallpox eradication and child survival. However, foreign NGOs have failed to spur sustainable development. Even after billions of dollars of development aid and numerous hours of NGO work, Kenya is miserably worse off, with nearly six in every ten people living on less than two dollars a day, and the figure is rising. Foreign NGOs providing food aid and other resources create an unsustainable dependency due to the short-term nature of their work. This dependency weakens the state, ensuring that the government is not held accountable for its mismanagement; it also removes the incentive for institutional reform that would actually promote development. 

For foreign aid to be effective, there needs to be more accountability and coordination between donor and recipient countries. There has been some progress through the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) and its successor, the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), but more needs to be done to fix a system of “top-down strategies” and donor domination. 

So what can the Biden administration do? 

Working with USAID, it must issue global developmental policy that reworks foreign assistance programs and promotes institutional reform. In the near term, that should include strengthening health systems to respond to COVID-19 and bolstering democratic governance amid rising authoritarianism. The administration must also engage with international initiatives: listen to the needs of recipient countries and coordinate with other donor countries on how to meet them. As it reenters the Paris Climate Agreement, the U.S. needs to pull its weight and support developing countries in honoring their commitments. 

Aid can no longer just be donors throwing money at the problem; it should be geared towards long-term prosperity. Without significant reform, the foreign aid system will remain ineffective and hinder development.