ARTICLES OF THE DAY

May 30th, 2022

ROBERT BRIDGE, RUSSIA TODAY .................................................................................................................. 2

THOMAS DE WAAL, FOREIGN AFFAIRS.......................................................................................................... 4

ERIK LIN-GREENBERG AND THEO MILONOPOULOS, FOREIGN AFFAIRS .......................................................... 8

CRISTIAN MARTINI GRIMALDI, THE DIPLOMAT ............................................................................................12

MALEEHA LODHI, DAWN .............................................................................................................................16

SMRITI IRANI, THE INDIAN EXPRESS ............................................................................................................18

 Comedy is America’s lifeline to sanity, but the thought police
aren’t laughing
Ricky Gervais faces sticks and stones for questioning transgender ideology
Robert Bridge, Russia Today
T his week, comedian
Ricky Gervais rattled
liberals with a routine
that took aim at transgender
ideology. America needs this
sort of comic relief to start
discussions on controversial
issues, but the left can’t take a
joke.
There’s a rule of thumb that
goes, “If you’re going to tell
people the truth, you better
make them laugh or they’ll
kill you.” (The quote is
usually credited to Bernard
Shaw, but its origins are
disputed.) The same rule
applied hundreds of years ago
when court jesters told the
king painful truths nobody
else would dare while trying
to keep him laughing at the
same time. This underscores
one of the unspoken purposes
of humor, which is to allow
serious topics to be broached
while blunting the pain the
conversation may otherwise
invoke. Yes, we may disagree
on a particular subject, but at
least we are adult enough to
poke fun at those differences.
Those healthy attitudes are
long gone, at least for one half
of the American populace.
Entertainment protocol today
has been inverted to read:
‘Even if you are funny when
you tell people the truth, we
[the mob] will kill you’. In
other words, America, the
land that has given rise to
countless comic talents over
the years, has lost its sense of
humor. That much was
apparent judging by the howls
of faux outrage following
Ricky Gervais’ Netflix
Comedy
comedian Dave Chappelle
special
‘SuperNature’. Like the black
before him, Gervais forced his
audience to take notice of the
900-pound psychedelic
elephant rolling around in
America’s living room, which
is transgender ideology and
the inherent dangers it poses
for millions of people, mostly
women.
“Oh, women!” the British
comedian starts. “Not all
women, I mean the old-
fashioned ones. The old-
fashioned women, the ones
with wombs. Those f***ing
dinosaurs. I love the new
women. They’re great, aren’t
they? The new ones we’ve
been seeing lately. The ones
with beards and c**ks.
They’re as good as gold, I love
them. And now the old-
fashioned ones say, ‘Oh, they
want to use our toilets’. ‘Why
shouldn’t they use your
toilets’? ‘For ladies’! ‘They
are ladies — look at their
pronouns’! ‘What about this
person isn’t a lady’? ‘Well, his
penis’. ‘Her penis, you
f***ing bigot’! ‘What if he
rapes me’? ‘What if she rapes
you, you f***ing TERF
wh**e’?”
What liberals found to be so
appalling and “hurtful” about
the above monologue was not
the vulgarity – let’s face it,
progressives are no strangers
to lewdness – but the accuracy
of the ‘joke’. Yes, sometimes
the truth hurts. Gervais laid
out the contradictions of the
transgender movement that
the mainstream media has
been at great pains to ignore,
and that is the very real risks it
presents to biological females.
Let’s remember that one of the
first things Joe Biden did as
president was to sign an
executive order that allows
Americans to go about their
lives “without worrying about
whether they will be denied
access to the restroom, the
locker room, or school
sports.” In other words,
American men and women
now have the right to use the
bathroom and changing room
facilities, as well as compete
in sporting competitions
against females, “no matter
their gender identity or sexual
orientation.” Incredibly,
transgender women are even
being locked up in prison
alongside biological females
with all of the predictable
consequences, namely
pregnancies behind bars.
Instead of the liberals
listening to what Gervais was
attempting to tell them, which
is that the lives of biological
females are threatened by
such inclusive ‘open door’
policies, the left did what the
left does best: It sent out a
search and destroy mission to
drive Ricky Gervais either
into an early retirement or,
judging by the tone of some of
the tweets, an early grave.
Such a response to a comedy
routine exposes the main
problem with the social justice
crowd, which is their utter
lack of maturity to discuss and
debate controversial ideas in a
public forum. Even more
maddening is that the entire
concept of ‘transgender’ is a
relatively new phenomenon,
and, like all new things, it is
naturally going to court a lot
of controversy. Yet, those
who wish to ask some honest
questions or warn about the
dangers of exposing
impressionable children and
teenagers to such concepts are
written off as ‘haters’ who are
suffering from ‘transphobia’.
Amid this intellectual dark
age that is descending upon
the US, where many
universities have become
epicenters of radical
ultraliberal ideology, one of
the last places for While a few brave comedians
conservatives to have their like Dave Chappelle and
opinions vocalized is through Ricky Gervais are still willing
the medium of comedy. to suffer the slings and arrows
that come with this dangerous
“Comedy is a reflection,” the
new territory, the
American actor and comedian
consequences may eventually
Alan King once said. “We
be considered too great of a
create nothing. We set no
risk. That will be a loss not
styles, no standards. We’re
only for the comedy scene in
reflections. It’s a distorted
America, but for the entire
mirror in the fun house. We
nation as it attempts to
watch society. As society
navigate its way through
behaves, then we have the
extremely confusing times.
ability to make fun of it.”
Don’t cancel your court
King, if he were alive, would
jesters, America, they are your
be shocked to see that that
lifeline to sanity and civility.
vital function of comedians to
hold a mirror up to society is
slowly falling by the wayside.
 Nagorno-Karabakh in the Shadow of Ukraine
What Russia’s War Means for Armenia and Azerbaijan
Thomas de Waal, Foreign Affairs
A
s the ripples of
Russia’s invasion of
Ukraine pulse
outward, they have left one
region especially volatile: the
South Caucasus. The
Ukrainian conflict has
paradoxically raised the
likelihood of both further
fighting and a negotiated
peace in this area between the
Caspian and Black Seas. The
region was the site of a brutal
war in 2020 between Armenia
and Azerbaijan over the
disputed territory of Nagorno-
Karabakh—an Armenian-
populated enclave within
Azerbaijan—and adjacent
regions. The 44-day war left
around 7,000 people dead and
saw Azerbaijan inflict a
crushing defeat on Armenia,
reversing territorial losses it
had suffered in fighting during
the 1990s. The war also left
unresolved questions,
lingering disputes, and
simmering tensions. In March,
just as Ukraine used Turkish-
made Bayraktar drones to
repulse Russian forces,
Azerbaijan used the same type
of drones to strike Armenian
troops in Karabakh.
Now that Russia is bogged
down by its war in Ukraine,
Russia’s centrality to any
settlement of this conflict—in
what it sees as its own
backyard—is in doubt. Peace
talks are underway between
Armenia and Azerbaijan
under the auspices of the
European Union. In May,
Armenian Prime Minister
Nikol Pashinyan and
Azerbaijani President Ilham
Aliyev met in Brussels for
what European Council
President Charles Michel
described as “productive”
talks. The parties are making
progress on two major issues:
the reopening of transport
routes across closed borders
and the demarcation of the
official border between
Armenia and Azerbaijan. On a
third, the future status of the
Armenian population of
Karabakh, the core issue of the
conflict since 1988, intense
wrangling continues even on
the terms of debate.
The shadow of the war in
Ukraine hangs heavy over
these negotiations. The
Kremlin helped forge a cease-
fire deal in November 2020
under which it deployed a
peacekeeping force to
Karabakh. Russia is the
closest military and economic
ally of Armenia and also
signed a partnership
agreement with Azerbaijan
two days before the invasion
of Ukraine, declaring
friendship and promising
deeper economic cooperation.
Now, however, its setbacks in
Ukraine have limited Russia’s
capacity to project power in its
neighborhood. Its military and
diplomatic chiefs are
distracted, and local powers
can more easily ignore its
instructions and threats. These
limitations may help explain
both why there has been an
upsurge in violence in and
around Karabakh and why the
EU has supplanted Russia as
the major mediator between
the two sides. The diminished
Russian role has caused
instability, but it also gives
Armenia and Azerbaijan an
opportunity, if they wish to
seize it, to work toward a
definitive and historic peace
settlement.
A POSITION OF
STRENGTH
The pendulum has swung
decidedly in Azerbaijan’s
favor in this 30-year conflict.
In 1994, the Armenians won a
military victory in the first war
with Azerbaijan, following
which they not only held
Karabakh but occupied
partially or wholly the seven
Azerbaijani districts around
the enclave, having forced out
more than half a million
people who lived there. In
2020, the Azerbaijanis
recaptured these seven regions
and seized around a third of
the territory of Nagorno-
Karabakh, driving out at least
20,000 Armenians. It is the
Armenians of Karabakh who
now feel threatened,
concerned that if it were not
for the Russian peacekeeping
force, they would be forced to
quit their homes altogether.
In March, tensions and
violence surged again. The
gas pipeline from Armenia
into Karabakh was cut off,
disrupting supply and leaving
Karabakh Armenians without
heat in freezing temperatures.
The Armenians alleged
Azerbaijani foul play in the
severing of the pipeline, while
the Azerbaijanis mostly
refused to comment. At the
same time, Azerbaijani forces
set up loudspeakers outside
Armenian villages and played
the Azerbaijani national
anthem and intimidating
messages in the Armenian
language, telling the
inhabitants to pack their bags
and leave. Then, Azerbaijani
soldiers defied Russian
peacekeepers and marched
into the Armenian village of
Parukh. Local Armenian
forces tried to push the
Azerbaijanis from the high
ground above the village, but
the Azerbaijanis responded by
deploying the fearsome
Turkish Bayraktar drones that
had helped them win the 2020
war, killing at least three
Armenian soldiers.
The war in Ukraine looms
over negotiations to end the
conflict in Nagorno-
Karabakh.
A clamor of different
interpretations followed the
fighting. Some concluded that
Russia was colluding with
Azerbaijan to deliver a
warning message to Armenia;
Armenia had abstained rather
than support Russia at the UN
General Assembly vote in
March that condemned the
invasion of Ukraine. Others
speculated that Baku was
testing the resolve of the
Russian peacekeepers and
Moscow’s political
commitment to this mission.
Azerbaijan and Russia had
never agreed to a written
mandate for the peacekeeping
operation, and the Russian
forces had no clear rules of
engagement. Since the
beginning of the war in
Ukraine, Russian troop
numbers in the Karabakh
region have dipped a little
from a peak of 1,960 to around
1,600. Unlike in other conflict
zones where Russia has
deployed troops, such as in the
breakaway states of Abkhazia
and Transnistria, its mission in
Karabakh has an expiration
date: November 2025. The
mission can be renewed for
another five years, but it can
also be terminated if one of the
three parties to the 2020
agreement—most likely
Azerbaijan—withdraws its
consent six months before the
end date.
Azerbaijan feels confident.
The war in Ukraine sent
European officials rushing to
Baku, desperate for
Azerbaijani gas as a substitute
for Russian energy supplies.
Almost all Azerbaijanis
reveled in the success of the
2020 war, feeling it somehow
lifted a three-decades-old
national curse from their
country. Victory gave Aliyev,
president since 2003, a fresh
mandate. He has used it to
press for more concessions
from the Armenians,
employing occasional force
and political rhetoric. One
Azerbaijani expert described
the tactic to me as “coercive
diplomacy.” The Armenians
would say that they see much
more coercion than
diplomacy. The defeat in the
brutal 2020 war still
traumatizes Armenian society.
Around 4,000 young
Armenian men died in just six
weeks.
Armenia’s prime minister
seems ready to open a new
chapter in relations with his
neighbors. Ever since
Pashinyan came to power in a
peaceful revolution in 2018,
his main agenda has been
reform and state building in
Armenia itself, distinguishing
himself from his two
predecessors, who hailed from
Karabakh and made the cause
of freeing that territory from
Azerbaijani control the
cornerstone of their policies.
Despite losing the war,
Pashinyan convincingly won
elections in June 2021. That
has given him, he evidently
believes, a mandate to
negotiate unpopular deals
with both Azerbaijan and
Turkey. In April, Pashinyan
responded in cautiously
positive terms to a five-point
plan from Azerbaijan that
called for Armenia to
recognize Azerbaijan’s
territorial integrity and
withdraw its support for
Karabakh’s secession from
Azerbaijan.
On April 13, Pashinyan gave a
momentous speech to
parliament in which he backed
away from traditional
Armenian positions on
Karabakh. “The Karabakh
issue,” he declared, “is not a
matter of territory but of
rights,” saying in effect that
securing guarantees from
Baku for the protection of the
Armenian population now
superseded Yerevan’s
territorial claims. This change
in policy triggered large street
demonstrations in Yerevan led
by an alliance of former
Armenian leaders and
Karabakh Armenians. The
public is generally behind the
prime minister, in large part
because his predecessors were
so unpopular, but much of the
political establishment is
firmly against what it sees as a
betrayal of the 30-year-old
national cause of
independence for Karabakh.
THE EU STEPS IN
Pashinyan’s willingness to
ruffle feathers at home has
given momentum to the talks
with Azerbaijan. But a thicket
of thorny issues remains to be
cleared. Michel, the president
of the European Council, has
entered the fray as the most
effective mediator. Seen by
the sides as more of an honest
broker than Moscow, Michel
has facilitated a new bilateral
channel between two special
advisers from each side. The
first order of business is to
resolve outstanding
humanitarian issues: Armenia
seeks the release of around 38
detainees, considered to be
prisoners of war by the
Armenians, still in
Azerbaijani custody;
Azerbaijan accuses the other
side of withholding
information about the
positions of minefields in the
territories the Armenians lost
in 2020 and the locations of
the graves of around 4,000
Azerbaijani soldiers still
missing from the war in the
1990s. Even on such
humanitarian issues, as one
EU official told me recently,
“Everything is transactional.”
A bigger piece of business is
to act on the final point of the
2020 cease-fire agreement,
which calls for the opening of
“all economic and transport
connections in the region.”
The agreement specifically
mentions Azerbaijan’s
demand for a new route
reconnecting western
Azerbaijan to the exclave of
Nakhchivan, which is tucked
between Armenia and Iran
and has been isolated from the
rest of Azerbaijan for 30
years.
In Brussels, the two sides
apparently agreed to the
principles of a deal on
transport routes. But many
difficult details remain, with
the Armenian side insisting on
seeing several routes opened
rather than just one and the
Azerbaijani side wanting
assurances of minimal official
Armenian presence along the
new route. An agreement on
these routes would have
important consequences. It
would give new international
rail connections not just to
Armenia and Azerbaijan but
also to Iran and Turkey. In
light of the war in Ukraine, a
deal would boost the so-called
Middle Corridor, the little-
used transit route between
western China and Turkey
that bypasses Russia by
snaking through Central Asia,
the Caspian Sea, and the South
Caucasus.
WHITHER RUSSIA?
What has gone unspoken in
the talks is as telling as what
has been spoken. In several
months of public messaging
by the European Union,
officials have consistently left
out two words: “Russia” and
“Karabakh.”
Europe’s titanic struggle with
Russia over Ukraine precludes
any formal cooperation with
Moscow in the Caucasus—yet
Moscow’s involvement is
unavoidable. The Russians
have bristled at what they see
as a Western attempt to hijack
the peace process they
launched. In April, a Russian
foreign ministry spokesperson
condemned the EU’s
“shameless attempts to
appropriate the subject of the
well-known Russian-
Azerbaijani-Armenian
agreements” reached in
November 2020.
Moscow and Brussels can
probably agree on most points
of substance—except on the
issue of Russia’s primacy as
mediator. Western countries
tacitly support the Russian
peacekeeping force in
Karabakh as a stabilizing
factor—and besides, no one
else is prepared to take on that
role. But they undoubtedly
have questions about what
happens when the mission
ends in 2025. Russia is
supposed to be the security
guarantor of the new road to
Nakhchivan for an indefinite
period—a provision that looks
much less attractive now that
its army is ravaging Ukraine.
In his May 23 statement,
Michel mentioned the word
“Karabakh” for the first time,
saying, “I also stressed to both
leaders that it was necessary
that the rights and security of
the ethnic Armenian
population in Karabakh be
addressed.” Its omission in
previous statements points to
the strength of Azerbaijan’s
position in the current
negotiations. Baku now insists
that Karabakh no longer exists
as a territorial entity and, since
the Armenians previously
never agreed to discuss the
region’s autonomy within
Azerbaijan, they have
forfeited that right now. As
one Azerbaijani official said,
referring to Azerbaijan’s
original proposal for self-rule
made before the war, “We
offered it, you rejected it.”
That is why Baku insists on
not mentioning the name
Karabakh in international
communiques—even though
the November 2020
agreement signed by Aliyev
mentions “the zone of the
Nagorno-Karabakh conflict.”
From its position of strength,
Azerbaijan hopes to quash the
Karabakh Armenians’ desire
not only for secession but also
for self-government.
Sooner or later, however,
dialogue must begin on the
future status of the Karabakh
Armenians, the issue that
triggered this disastrous
conflict in 1988, when the
region was still part of the
Soviet Union. Baku will have
to declare what rights and
provisions it is ready to extend
to the Armenian inhabitants of
Karabakh, and the Karabakh
Armenians themselves will
have to acknowledge that if
only by virtue of geography
and their energy and
economic needs, their future
lies within Azerbaijan.
MENTAL SHIFT
For more than 30 years, the
Karabakh conflict has been
central to the modern national
identities of both the
Armenians and the
Azerbaijanis. It has dwarfed
other—arguably much more
important—considerations
about their international
ambitions or the challenges
posed by their larger
neighbors, Iran, Russia, and
Turkey. Both sides still use
language that excludes the
other: for example, the
Armenians call Karabakh by
the old Armenian name
Artsakh, implying a region
without Azerbaijanis, and the
Azerbaijanis call the
Armenian-populated town of
Stepanakert by an Azerbaijani
name, Khankendi.
To overcome this legacy, a
mental shift is needed.
Armenian officials say that
Pashinyan is now signaling
the start of such a shift,
weathering a fierce domestic
backlash for doing so.
Aliyev’s position is more
ambiguous. From time to
time, especially to
international interlocutors, he
makes conciliatory
statements. Speaking to his
own public, however, he is
much tougher, continuing to
deliver triumphal victory
speeches that mock the
Armenians. For example,
speaking on April 22 in the
town of Shusha, which was
recaptured from the
Armenians at the end of the
war in 2020, Aliyev
proclaimed: “Armenia was
brought to its knees before us,
bowed its head, was forced to
sign an act of capitulation . . .
and it is still in that situation
now.”
These remarks smack of the
macho stubbornness that has
marked both sides for three
decades. They reflect a belief
that only force, not
diplomacy, has achieved
results in this conflict. In the
1990s, both sides employed
systematic ethnic cleansing.
No Azerbaijanis remained in
Armenia or in Karabakh and
its surrounding Azerbaijani
regions, which were then
completely leveled when they
came under Armenian control.
No Armenians remained in
the city of Baku, where they
once formed a large
community, or in any regions
under Azerbaijani control.
Many in Azerbaijan evidently
believe that it is still possible
to solve the conflict by using
those tactics again and forcing
the Armenian population to
leave Karabakh. They might
even succeed—but this would
undoubtedly lead to a new
cycle of violence and
deepening resentment in
Armenia.
For the first time in years, the
parties now have some space
to pursue a peace deal, thanks
to the mediation of the EU.
But it could all easily unravel,
especially given the unstable
geopolitical environment. It
will become clear in the next
few months if both sides of the
conflict—and especially
Azerbaijan, the victor of
2020—decide they want to
make the most of a chance to
seek an elusive peace.
 Boots on the Ground, Eyes in the Sky
How Commercial Satellites Are Upending Conflict
Erik Lin-Greenberg and Theo Milonopoulos, Foreign Affairs
D
President
Zelensky
ays after Russia
began its invasion of
Ukraine, Ukrainian
Volodymyr
delivered an
emotional address to the
European Parliament,
pleading for support. That
same day, Ukraine’s vice
prime minister and minister of
digital transformation,
Mykhailo Fedorov, took to
Twitter to announce a more
targeted—but no less
urgent—plea to the executives
and corporate board members
of commercial satellite
companies. Specifically,
Fedorov appealed to several
leading private satellite firms
to provide high-resolution
imagery “in real time” to the
Ukrainian armed forces to
assist them in fending off
Russian aggression.
As we wrote in 2021,
commercial satellite imagery
is dramatically changing the
information landscape,
particularly when it comes to
national security. Gone are the
days when only governments
could collect advanced
intelligence about their rivals
and when militaries could
keep information about
battlefield developments
concealed from public view.
Now, members of the public
can use commercial satellite
imagery to reveal activities
some governments would
rather keep hidden. They have
documented North Korea’s
expanding nuclear arsenal and
exposed human rights abuses
such as China’s detention of
the Uyghur population in
internment camps. In Ukraine,
a multitude of actors,
including private satellite
firms, think tanks, journalists,
and amateur sleuths, have
used commercial satellite
imagery alongside other forms
of open-source intelligence to
reveal and verify information
about military maneuvers,
battlefield losses, and
Russia’s targeting of civilians.
By openly providing
information that once would
have remained largely secret,
commercial satellite imagery
has helped galvanize public
support for Ukraine, informed
Ukrainian military planning
and operations, and countered
Russian misinformation. But
these advantages do not come
without risks: the United
States’ friends and foes alike
will seek to exploit the
growing amount of
information available to
nongovernment users. The
United States, its allies, and its
partners might find their own
sensitive activities subject to
surveillance. Pro-Russian
actors could likewise exploit
open-source satellite
information to undercut the
Ukrainian defense.
Commercial satellite
companies could even
eventually find themselves in
Moscow’s crosshairs. As
private satellites go to war,
they are transforming the
character of modern conflict.
Although states still rely
overwhelmingly on covert
intelligence-gathering
methods, Western
governments should be sure to
account for the opportunities
and risks this evolving
technology poses as they craft
foreign and national security
policy.
KNOWLEDGE IS POWER
Accessible satellite imagery
already appears to be
influencing the U.S.
government’s approach in
Ukraine. In the run-up to
Russia’s initial invasion, the
Biden administration
disclosed intelligence about
Russian deployments on
Ukraine’s borders to its allies
and the broader public, all but
confirming that Moscow was
planning an assault on its
neighbor. This was an unusual
move: governments are
typically loathe to share
sensitive intelligence about
adversaries to better protect
the sources and methods used
to acquire information. But in
this case, much open-source
information about Russia’s
military posture and potential
next moves was already
circulating in the public
sphere.
Although much of what the
White House shared was
likely based on classified
sources, the flood of
commercially available
information about Russian
military deployments
probably influenced the
administration’s decision to
disclose this intelligence by
reducing fears that such a
disclosure would jeopardize
its sources and methods.
Publicly available satellite
imagery helped, rather than
hurt, Western intelligence
efforts: one National Security
Council (NSC) spokesperson
suggested that “open-source
satellite imagery has helped
shine a spotlight on Russia’s
troop movements.”
Nongovernment analysts and
amateur sleuths could be
“roughly on the same page” as
the U.S. intelligence
community, according to one
former NSC official, by
triangulating commercial
satellite imagery with social
media posts. And the Biden
administration’s efforts to
consolidate and share
information worked to its
advantage: the White House’s
disclosures likely helped
convince skeptical European
allies of the credibility of
Washington’s information
early on, laying the
groundwork for a collective
Western response to Russia’s
invasion.
Beyond forcing states to
navigate a changing
information environment,
open-source intelligence has
proven instrumental for
Ukraine on the battlefield.
Information from
nongovernment sources, for
instance, has helped deny
Moscow the element of
surprise by tracking Russian
troop movements and almost
certainly has aided Ukraine’s
targeting of Russian forces. In
the words of one U.S.
intelligence official,
commercial satellite imagery
has helped give Ukraine an
“information advantage on the
battlefield [which] is so far
countering superior
equipment and mass.”
As private satellites go to war,
they are transforming the
character of modern conflict.
Much of this commercial
satellite imagery has likely
reached Ukraine as the result
of partnerships between the
U.S. intelligence community
and private firms such as
Maxar Technologies,
BlackSky, and Planet. In April
2022, for example, the
National Geospatial-
Intelligence Agency (NGA)—
the U.S. agency responsible
for collecting, analyzing, and
distributing satellite
imagery—confirmed that it
had “started to facilitate and
coordinate independent
private efforts to directly
provide their products and
services to Ukraine.” This
expanded partnership
incorporates open-source
imagery and data into
intelligence-sharing pipelines
that allow private firms to
send information directly to
Ukrainian analysts. It also
includes real-time data from
synthetic aperture radar
satellites, which allow users to
track military movements
occurring under cloud cover
and at night. This technology
already appears to have
benefited Ukrainian defense
efforts: as Russian forces
amassed on Ukraine’s border,
the NGA accelerated the
purchase of commercial
synthetic aperture radar data
and began sharing it with
allies and partners months
earlier than originally
planned.
Even as the proliferation of
open-source data is eroding
government control over
intelligence, U.S. intelligence
community leaders have
extolled the virtues of such
information and believe that it
is yielding military benefits
for Ukraine. In the words of
Vice Admiral Robert Sharp,
the director of the NGA:
“Publicly available imagery of
Ukraine is now providing
unprecedented public insight
that until recently would’ve
been only available through
government agencies and
officials. And it’s helping a
democratic country fight for
its survival, and preserve its
independence.” The United
States can also transmit this
open-source information to
many more Ukrainian troops
than it could under the
restrictions associated with
sharing sensitive and
classified intelligence.
Moreover, the large
constellations of
commercially operated
satellites provide frequent
coverage over the battlespace,
which is critical for ensuring
up-to-date information during
a dynamic, ongoing conflict.
Commercial satellite imagery
will likely continue to feature
prominently in the planning
and conduct of Ukraine’s
military operations. Indeed,
the $800 million U.S. security
assistance package announced
in April 2022 included the
provision of “commercial
satellite imagery services”
alongside more conventional
military hardware such as
Stinger and Javelin missiles to
assist Ukraine in its efforts to
repel Russian forces. As open-
source intelligence becomes
an increasingly important
element of wartime planning
efforts, U.S. policymakers
should leverage its public
availability to provide real-
time intelligence with those
allies and partners who might
otherwise be flying blind on
modern battlefields.
GOING PUBLIC
Imagery from commercially
operated satellites has also
played a key role in combating
Russian disinformation.
Photographic evidence can
expose the facts on the
ground, making it more
difficult for Moscow to evade
scrutiny, dodge
accountability, and weave
distorted narratives. When
Russia’s Ministry of Defense
announced in mid-February
that Moscow had begun
pulling troops back from
Ukraine’s border, for instance,
U.S. and European officials
disavowed such claims as
false, with NATO Secretary-
General Jens Stoltenberg
invoking open-source
imagery to bolster these
assertions.
Media outlets and think tanks
have also leaned on
commercial satellite imagery
to counter false Russian
claims, often using reporting
that combines such imagery
with other open-source
information. The earliest
indicators that the Russian
invasion of Ukraine had
begun, for instance, came not
from artillery firing or aerial
bombardments, but from a
traffic jam. Watching live
traffic updates on Google
Maps, analysts at the
Middlebury Institute of
International Studies at
Monterey observed unusual
congestion along a road from
Belgorod, Russia, to the
Ukrainian border. The traffic
jam occurred near the same
location where analysts had
earlier used commercial
satellite data to identify a
staging area for Russian
armored personnel carriers,
missile launchers, and other
military hardware. The
increasingly yellow and red
traffic patterns on Google
Maps suggested to the
researchers that the Russian
columns were on the move.
This is just one of many cases
As the war has progressed,
of independent analysts and
observers both inside and
observers using open-source
outside of government have
data to assess the status of the
continued to use this sort of
conflict. As Stacey Dixon,
open-source intelligence to
principal deputy director of
discredit Russian government
national intelligence in the
claims regarding the progress
Biden administration,
of its forces, making it harder
explained, commercial
for Moscow to mask the heavy
satellite imagery “allowed
costs it has suffered on the
others to independently
battlefield. For instance, a
interpret the images, piecing
combination of commercial
them together with other
satellite imagery and
information, and tell the world
photographs posted on
what was about to happen.”
Telegram helped bolster
Ukrainian claims of having
sunk Russia’s flagship
Moskva missile cruiser in
The United States should mid-April, contradicting
move now to plan for future initial statements by the
conflicts that will unfold Russian Ministry of Defense
under the gaze of private that the vessel sank after
satellites. ammunition caught fire
onboard the ship.
Information from privately
operated satellites and other
open-source platforms has
News outlets have also used
also been crucial for
commercial satellite imagery
illuminating the strength of
to catalog Russian atrocities
the Ukrainian defense.
committed against Ukrainian
Commercial satellite imagery
civilians. In early April, the
verified claims that Russian
Russian Ministry of Defense
columns had dispersed under
dismissed photographs and
heavy Ukrainian fire,
video footage documenting
reinforcing perceptions that
dead civilians in the streets of
the Ukrainian military had
the town of Bucha as a “hoax”
mounted an unexpectedly
and “staged production,”
fierce resistance. Widely
insisting the bodies had been
available technologies have
placed on the street after
also proved to be useful
Russian troops had withdrawn
methods of documentation
from the Ukrainian town.
throughout the conflict:
News outlets analyzed
ordinary citizens turned to
commercial satellite imagery
social media to record stalled
that refuted Russian claims,
Russian convoys, captured
confirming that human bodies
Russian equipment, and
were in the streets and mass
civilians taking shelter in
grave sites were present
subway stations. This
before Russian forces
transparency and insight into
withdrew. This imagery has
the civilian experience of the
not only helped reveal
war has helped underscore the
Russian atrocities in ways that
horror of the invasion and the
have countered Russia’s false
depth of Ukrainian courage
narrative and mobilized public
and sacrifice—galvanizing
sentiment in support of
enormous international
Ukraine, but it also promises
support in the process.
to be useful should any future
international legal action be interests by capturing public they can just as easily provide
taken against Russian forces. attention and rallying support information about U.S.
for specific causes. Increased military operations to those
transparency, however, can be same adversaries. Although
EYES WIDE OPEN a double-edged sword. States the United States can regulate
seeking to keep their activities the activities of U.S.-based
Commercial satellite
secret might target satellite companies, its reach
companies will likely play an
commercial satellite firms may be more limited in
even greater role during future
using cyberattacks, or in preventing foreign companies
crises. These firms have long
extreme cases, conventional from revealing sensitive
supported the intelligence and
military attacks. Russia has information.
defense sectors, but the
already tried—and failed—to
Ukraine conflict has
hack and jam the satellite-
underscored their importance
based Starlink service that is As fighting in Ukraine grinds
in shaping the information
the sole Internet provider in on, governments, private
environment and enabling
parts of Ukraine. In the event companies, and citizens alike
military planning. Their
of an attack on commercial will need to weigh the
consequential role in the
satellites, the U.S. tradeoffs associated with this
Ukraine war will likely
government might be hesitant new era of wartime
deepen partnerships between
to take retaliatory action to transparency. Political leaders
private firms and governments
avoid escalating a crisis, will need to consider the
seeking to streamline
leaving private satellites implications of having
intelligence sharing and
vulnerable to continued satellite imagery confirm or
increase collection capacity,
strikes. contradict their claims about
particularly in countries that
battlefield progress.
lack their own advanced
Intelligence officials will need
capabilities. Indeed, NATO is
Overreliance on commercial to devise best practices for
considering buying imagery
satellite imagery could also synthesizing classified and
directly from commercial
pose significant risks, open-source intelligence and
firms, rather than relying on
particularly given its for sharing this information
member states to provide it.
accessibility to the public at with allies, partners, and the
large. Open-source imagery public. Military planners will
could be used to spread need to prepare for a future in
Outside of government use,
disinformation rather than which their operations can be
media outlets, think tanks, and
combat it: rivals might detected and disclosed in
other open-source analysts
attempt to manipulate near-real time by foreign
will continue to fuse
commercial imagery or use firms that operate beyond the
commercial satellite imagery
artificial intelligence to create reach of U.S. regulations. The
with information from other
deepfakes that tell their United States should move
sources and distribute it to
preferred narrative. Moreover, now to plan for future
audiences around the world,
just as commercial satellites conflicts that will unfold
enhancing transparency in
collect intelligence on the under the gaze of private
ways that can advance state
United States’ adversaries, satellites.
 Japan’s Tangled Territorial Dispute With Russia
In northernmost Hokkaido, residents can easily see Russian-held islands that once belonged to Japan.
Some still hold out hope for the islands’ return.
Cristian Martini Grimaldi, The Diplomat
T he war in Ukraine,
8,000 kilometers away,
may seem distant to
most inhabitants of the
Japanese archipelago. But
there is an exception: the
people of Hokkaido. From
here, Russia is close – very
close, just across the bay. You
don’t even need a pair of
binoculars; you can see it with
your naked eyes, as I did
during a recent visit to
northeast Hokkaido.
One of the Russian islets of
Habomai is just 3.7 kilometers
away. For comparison, the
longest bridge in Japan is the
Akashi bridge in Kobe, which
is 3.9 km long. Were these
friendly neighbors, Japan and
Russia could share expenses
and build a bridge, which
people could use to literally
walk between the countries.
But these are not friendly
neighbors – not anymore, at
least. Certainly not since
Russian President Vladimir
Putin ordered the invasion of
Ukraine and Japan, along with
other 30 other countries,
imposed sanctions on Russia.
But the hostility didn't begin
with Ukraine. It goes far back
into the past – 77 years, to be
precise.
It was the end of World War
II. On August 8, just days after
the United States dropped the
world’s first nuclear bomb on
Hiroshima, the Soviet Union
suddenly declared war on
Japan, breaking their
neutrality agreement. Ten
days later, after the atomic
bombing of Nagasaki and
after Japan had already agreed
to an unconditional surrender
to the United States, Soviet
soldiers swept through
Japan’s Northern Territories,
occupying the islands of
Kunashiri, Habomai, Etorofu,
and Shikotan.
The four islands (known as the
Southern Kurils in Russia)
had been Japanese-owned
since 1855, when Russia and
Japan agreed in the Treaty of
Shimoda that they belonged to
Japan. In 1945, they were
home to Japanese citizens,
along with their tatami houses
and hot spring baths.
When the Soviet Union
invaded the islands, Japan
couldn’t possibly defend
itself. The country was
already on its knees;
Hiroshima and Nagasaki were
still hot from the U.S. nuclear
bombs. For the Soviets it was
like stealing candy from a
baby; resistance was futile. It
was the first time that the
people living on the islands
had seen conflict – prior to the
Soviet invasion, World War II
had not touched their shores.
In the aftermath, 17,000
Japanese citizens were sent
off to the mainland, but it
didn’t happen overnight. For
most of them it was a long
ordeal that lasted years. There
are still around 5,000
survivors of that forced
exodus in the Nemuro area; I
went to Hokkaido to interview
two of them.
Japan hasn’t given up on the
islands yet. In Tokyo’s eyes,
they are still considered part
of Japan’s territory. In the
Treaty of Peace with Japan,
signed in San Francisco in
September 1951, Japan
renounced any claims to the
Kuril Islands – but not the
Northern Territories, which
Russia calls the Southern
Kurils. Since then, there has
been an ongoing discussion to
get at least two of the major
islands back under Japanese
control. Those talks have now
been halted due to the Japan’s
sanctions on Russia over the
Ukrainian conflict.
It was in Nemuro that in early
March of this year a Russian
helicopter violated Japanese
airspace. It was unclear,
Japanese media reported at the
time, whether the incident had
anything to do with Russia’s
ongoing military operations in
Ukraine and Japan’s response.
Things became clearer a
couple of weeks later when
another incident occurred. At
around 6 p.m. one evening, the
inhabitants of Nemuro
witnessed “strange games of
fires while looking across the
bay,” as one local told The
Diplomat. “Explosions were
heard all across the bay,
windows started to shake,”
recounted Fujita, 56, who
works at the Communication
Center of the Northern
Territories, where they teach
visitors about the history of
the occupied islands.
Reading the newspapers the
next day, Nemuro residents
would learn that they had
glimpsed Russian military
exercises. More than 3,000
troops prepared for a
hypothetical enemy landing
on the islands.
“Of course it was scary,
considering what has
happened here during the
years,” Fujita said.
He referred to the killing of a
Japanese fisherman in 2006,
with the rest of the crew
dragged to Russia until a
ransom was paid. Last year, in
a similar incident, a ransom of
around $90,000 was
demanded (but with no one
dead this time). Local resident
Okuda, 65, believes the
ransom “was much more,”
around $300,000.
The kidnapping neatly
disappeared from the Japanese
media, “for saving face we
suppose,” said Okuda, who
runs a guesthouse in Nemuro
and in his spare time instructs
his foreign guests on the
territorial controversy.
Just like the coast of the
Northern Territories – where
the view can be as clear as a
picture one day and blurry on
another, depending on the
whim of the weather – the
people of Nemuro seem to be
divided in two distinct
categories: Those who believe
that the islands will never be
given back, and those who
hope they will be. There are
no full-blooded optimists
here.
Usuda Seiji belongs to the
second category.
He used to live in the Russia-
occupied islands (the official
term Japan’s government
uses), which makes him moto-
toumin (ex-inhabitants of the
islands). As soon as he saw me
he got up from his chair in the
office of his patrol station, and
with a stick he began to point
to a map of eastern Japan,
explaining to me how the
islands are still to be
considered Japanese land.
He has a personal stake in the
discussion, as he was born on
one of the islands, Shibotsu,
on August 1 ,1939. His island
used to have a population of
1,500 people. Today it one of
the closest Russian-held
islands to Japan.
“Shibotsu Island has no rivers
and no mountains, but had a
very pristine territory – so
much so that salmon would
come swim up to the little
streams,” Usuda said. “The
sea around the island is so
good that you can fish for
anything.” His father used to
harvest kombu (an edible
algae used for broth) and tons
of kani (crabs) in the
surrounding ocean.
When the Soviets arrived on
the island, it was the first time
the locals had seen a
Westerner. “Their huge
bodies and white skin were
really scary. Half of the
villagers escaped right away
because of the rumors that
they were going to do bad
things to us,” Usuda
recounted.
The women, fearing rape, cut
their hair and purposefully
tanned themself outside to
look shabby and more
manlike. “They hid in the
storage and in the horse
stables for days. We thought
they would get kidnapped.”
Of the people that escaped,
some made it to the coast of
Hokkaido; others sank with
their boats; and still others
were discovered and forced
back by the occupiers.
“But my family decided to
stay and for a solid reason,”
Usuda said. “My father was
still in the army at that time
and my mom couldn’t decide
by herself what to do. We had
to wait for my father.”
Then the Soviet soldiers
showed up.
“The Russians told us that
from now on that would be
Russian territory. And we told
them that it was our land.
They replied with scorn: We
won the war."
Usuda and his family weren’t
immediately expelled. They
co-existed for three years with
Russian families, which were
swiftly moved to the island to
solidify Soviet control.
“Then one day when I was
nine we were told to go to the
port. But nobody told us the
reason. When we got there we
were forced to get inside little
boats. They took us a few
hundred meters off the cost
and there, waiting for us, there
was a huge rundown container
ship.” They didn’t even have a
ladder to get on board the
larger ship. “We went up on
that huge ship hanging from
the tow line,” he said, the one
used by the boat when
anchoring into a port. That
was the last time Usuda, his
family, and their Japanese
neighbors saw their homes for
some time.
“Ninety percent of us believed
that in one or two years we
would come back,” he said.
“That is why my family buried
a set of tea cups and plates,
setomono, near the premises
of our house.” It was their
time capsule, to be dug up
again when they returned
home.
But they never did.
They didn’t know it at the
time, but they were heading to
Sakhalin island, whose
southern part belonged to the
Japanese and now was
occupied by the Soviet Union.
“The boat was stinky and we
soon discovered that they
weren’t heading to Nemuro,
the closest port in Japan,”
Usuda continued.
The long voyage took them to
Maoka city (soon renamed
Holmsk by the Soviets), on the
western side of the island, 800
km away from their home. It
would take them days to
arrive.
“But we soon found out there
were those in worst condition
than us. There were already
people on the boat; they had
been taken from the farthest
away islands of Urup and
Etorufu. For them the
tormented journey would have
been even longer.”
The container ship wouldn’t
just pick up people and leave.
They would sail along the cost
for days waiting to fill up the
ship to the brim. Those who
were unfortunate enough to
get picked up first would have
the longest, and worst,
journey.
“Since we were allowed to
take one bag per family only,
we had no food. When we
arrived in Sakhalin all we
were given to eat was a bad
cereal mixed with water, small
fish and salt. That is it. That
was our diet for months.”
Many suffered from diarrhea
and other sorts of disease.
“My sister had malnutrition
and when we finally arrived in
Hakodate (Japan) she died,”
Usuda said.
After a tsunami in the 1960s
hit his former home, the
family’s property was washed
away. But Usuda, along with
other survivors, went back in
1990, on a visit mutually
agreed upon with the Soviet
Union. There he found parts of
the setomono he had buried 45
years earlier, including a
container of preserved plums.
Since forcibly removing the
Japanese residents, the Soviet
Union – and now Russia – has
been scrupulously pushing for
its citizens to replace the
former inhabitants: The four
islands now have almost
exactly the same number of
residents that used to live
there, around 18,000.
“I wish the islands will be
given back, but it is a
challenge given the fact that
now 1,500 Russian live
there,” Usuda said, speaking
of Shibotsu Island.
He may be pessimistic, but he
never changed his koseki, the
official family registry that
every Japanese has. He keeps
it registered still in Shibotsu
island, though he could have
changed it at any time.
After all, his sister’s last wish
before she died was to have
her ashes spread on the island.
That is how strong the
Japanese bond is with their
jikka, their birth place.
So that no one will forget the
past, the Japanese erected a
strange sculpture in Betsukai-
cho, between Nemuro and
Rausu. The sculpture depicts
three people on a tall concrete
wall who seem to be
screaming toward the sea,
where the four disputed
islands are. Titled “A cry, the
way to the four islands,” the
monument was made in the
1980s and the sign that
explains its origin is written in
the Cold War-era style: “In
order to establish a permanent
peace and amicable relations
between Japan and the Soviet
Union this illegal occupation
must be terminated.”
“It is Japan, of course,”
reiterated Takeshi, a 42-year-
old public worker who also
stopped to take a look at the
eerie sculpture while I was
examining it. He came from
Sapporo and brought a pair of
binoculars with him to take a
better look across the channel
over to Kunashiri.
“Will they give back the
islands?” I asked him.
“I don’t think so. They will
never do it, Japanese are too
nice,” he said with a sarcastic
smile.
His pessimism seems
justified. Far from returning
the islands, last April Sergey
Mironov, leader of a political
faction allied with Vladimir
Putin, stated that Russia is the
rightful owner not only of the
Northern Territories but of the
whole island of Hokkaido.
Despite the reputation of
“being too nice,” the Japanese
don’t seem to want to turn the
other cheek that easily.
Japan has built hundreds of
road signs where they
explicitly (something very
unusual for the Japanese, who
are so used to understatements
in their speech) declare
“Kaese Hoppouryodo” –
“give us back the Northern
Islands.” The biggest I’ve
seen is right in front of the
municipality office of Nemuro
city.
A few hundred meters away
from that sign, I met up with
Furubayashi Sadao, who was
born in Kunashiri in 1938.
“In September [1945] I was
playing with a friend and my
grandpa on the beach.
Suddenly we got scared
seeing a boat; we soon
realized it was a Russian
boat,” he recounted, narrating
his first encounter with the
Soviets.
“My grandpa ran home and
took out a white flag and
started to wave at them right
away. As the Russians
arrived, it was clear they
weren’t going to go away.
Everyone ran home. The
soldiers rushed inside every
single house to check if there
were any Japanese soldiers
and while they were at it took
away the most precious
treasures and expensive stuff
that we had.”
Although the initial shock was
great, the cultural gap was
even greater.
“What really angered us the
most was when the Russian
soldiers entered the house
dosoku, with their shoes on.
The tatami to us Japanese is
equivalent to a sacred space.
You don’t put your shoes on
it.” That act was tantamount to
a desecration for the Japanese
residents, equivalent to
removing bodies from a tomb.
To give you a picture of how
unprepared the locals were for
the coming of the Soviet
Army, consider this: As the
occupying force had to build a
garrison and move weapons
and artillery there, they went
looking for vehicles to do the
heavy work. All they could
find on the island was a horse
carriage, 1890s-style.
“My grandpa and father were
fisherman, we lived a very
simple life,” Furubayashi
explained.
His family was forced to cut
trees to make the wood
necessary to construct the
building for the garrison. His
uncle started to work at a
restaurant for the Soviets
while his father was allowed
to continue fishing so that the
Soviet Army could benefit
from his work.
When he was 10 he arrived in
Sakhalin, having undergone
the same journey as Usuda.
They too were asked to meet
at the port at a certain date and
time and were not told the
reason.
“My great-grandmother was
with us, and since we were
allowed only to take one bag
with us that was used for her
diapers, nothing else. So we
had no food, games, personal
things, nothing,” Furubayashi
said.
After being forcibly removed
from their home, his family
stayed in Sakhalin for over six
months.
“Since there was no place to
sleep we were kept in a
school, which became our
home and jail.”
But the worst were the toilets.
“There were in fact no toilets
but a huge hole dug on the
ground six meters deep. We
kids weren’t even allowed to
go pee alone, that’s how
dangerous it was. Every now
and then in fact some kid
would fall into it, and that was
the scariest for us.”
Those who survived were sent
to Hakodate in Hokkaido.
There everyone went looking
for their own relatives for
help. The Japanese
government also assisted
them, and they were finally
able to start a new life.
When I asked Furubayashi for
his feelings about the current
situation, he gave me a
cautious response, as though
he felt the pressure of being an
official voice while my phone
recorded every word.
“I wish this issue would be
resolved soon and without
hostility. My role is to keep
the memory alive.”
It is not just the old residents
of the islands that “keep the
memory alive.” Each year
every Japanese student from
13 to 15 years old writes an
essay of 2,000 characters
about the Northern
Territories. They are asked to
express how they think this
problem could be solved and
what is their vision for the
future is. Then they send it to
the Hoppouryodo mondai
taisaku kyokai, the
“Association to solve the
norther territory issue,”
supported by the Ministry of
Education. Those whose
essays are selected are invited
to give a speech in Tokyo.
Kantaro, a boy from Sapporo
in his first year of junior high,
had his essay deemed one of
the best in 2021. He wrote
something that, given the
current situation in Eastern
Europe, is quite perceptive:
“Before I learned anything
about this dispute I thought
Japan didn’t respect the
Treaty and so I felt ashamed.
But then I found out that was
Russia who broke the promise
[both the Treaty of Shimoda
and the Neutrality Pact]. I was
so disappointed.
“If the whole world did such a
thing, countries breaking
contracts with each other, then
nobody could ever get along
in this world.”

M AY 25 presented a
sorry spectacle of
street clashes and a
government-opposition
showdown that plunged the
capital into chaos. Between
Imran Khan’s long march and
the government’s use of force,
the day’s disturbing events
left people in a state of deep
apprehension about the future.
It remained unclear whether
the political storm had run its
course or its headwinds would
continue to shake the country.
Sooner or later, elections will
have to be called. This raises
the question of whether this
will resolve the ongoing
political crisis and pave the
way for much-needed
stability. To be sure, the road
ahead is a challenging one.
Agreement on a code of
conduct and acceptance of
election rules will be far from
easy. PTI’s demand to replace
the chief election
commissioner, who holds a
constitutional post, is already
a worrisome sign of what lies
ahead. In an intensely
polarised environment, with
emotions running high, it is
hard to see how consensus
will be forged on the political
rules of the road. Will all
contestants also believe the
playing field will be level for
them?
Looking ahead, there are other
more compelling factors to
consider. Will the election
results be accepted by all
political actors? And
assuming — a big assumption
— they reluctantly do, what
would happen after a likely
bitter and bruising electoral
battle? This is an important
question because the political
rhetoric of major parties does
Votes and mandates
Maleeha Lodhi, Dawn
not hold out the prospect of
stable governance in which a
minimum working
relationship is established
between political rivals. Yet
the nature of election
outcomes in the past, the
country’s diversity and the
federal character of the polity
should give our political
leaders and their followers
reason to pause and think.
Because this demands an
approach of managing the
democratic system and
running the country on the
basis of political
accommodation, compromise
and tolerance of the ‘other.’
If we look at election
outcomes in the past two
decades, two key aspects
stand out. One, no party has
been able to secure an overall
parliamentary majority, and
two, the regionalised nature of
the result. In the last four
elections — in 2018, 2013,
2008 and 2002 no party won
an outright majority. The
winning party had to cobble
coalitions to form the
government. Thus, a fractured
vote and hung parliaments
have been the norm, not the
exception.
If politics and economics
continue to collide, a bleak
future awaits the country.
Also significant for the case
for consensual governance is
the size of the popular vote for
the party that won in these
elections. It is more useful to
assess a party’s actual
electoral support by looking
beyond the distribution of
seats. In the 2018 election,
PTI got around 31 per cent of
the popular vote. In 2013,
PML-N polled 32pc of votes
cast. In 2008, PPP secured
31pc. In 2002, PML-Q polled
23pc. This shows that in
Pakistan’s first-past-the-post
system, the party that has been
able to emerge as the single
largest and win enough seats
to form a government with
allies has done so with less
than a third of the popular
vote. And this is of the votes
cast, not the total number of
eligible voters. Turnout in
these elections has ranged
between 53pc (2013), 51pc
(2018), 44pc (2008) and 41pc
(2002). The large non-voting
electorate indicates that
significant political ground is
not occupied by any party.
That puts the mandate of the
winner into real perspective.
The other feature of post-2002
elections is the regionalised
nature of the result, which left
different provinces with
governments of varying
political complexions. In
2018, PTI formed the
government in KP, the PPP
won Sindh, and in Punjab,
seats were divided between
PTI and PML-N but the
former secured control of the
province with allies, helped by
the establishment. In 2013, the
PML-N ran the centre and
Punjab, but PTI formed the
KP government and PPP the
government in Sindh. In 2008,
PPP won the national election,
while the four provincial polls
were won by different parties,
PML-N in Punjab, ANP in
KP, PPP in Sindh, and a PML-
Q-led alliance in Balochistan.
What does all this mean?
What lessons does this have
for the country’s post-election
future? First of all, there is
little indication that Pakistan’s
era of coalition governments
is about to end. If the next
election follows the same
pattern as in the past, then
regardless of who prevails, the
winning party will likely poll
a minority of the popular vote.
Therefore, the notion that the
winning party is the ‘sole
representative’ of the people
and that no one else represents
the country has to be
discarded. It has to be replaced
by the acknowledgment that
its mandate is qualified, as
other parties also have
significant electoral support
and must be accommodated
and included in the working of
the political system. It also
means that the ruling party
should practise humility in its
ambitions and in its conduct.
The view that it can wield
‘absolute’ power and govern
unilaterally is mistaken. With
the support base of under a
third of the popular vote, a
‘winner-takes-all’ attitude
leads to inherently unstable,
exclusionary governance.
The country’s federal reality
also creates the imperative to
work together — not just
tolerate opposition-led
provincial governments but
for the centre to cooperate
with them for the public good.
In all likelihood, the next
election will also produce a
regionalised outcome. Thus,
the need to adopt a consensual
approach for stable and
mutually beneficial centre-
province relations that breaks
from the unedifying past of
strains in the federation.
The fragile state of the
economy creates the most
compelling reason for
political rivals to work
together on a common
minimum basis. Governments
have been reluctant to take
tough decisions to address the
economy’s structural
weaknesses in large part for
fear of political consequences
and of the opposition
exploiting that to orchestrate a
public backlash and provoke
discontent. Today, an
economy again in the critical
ward creates an imperative for
post-election agreement
among political leaders on
remedial policy actions to heal
it. All political actors need to
think as much about the
country’s economic future as
their own partisan interests.
Without economic stability,
everything else will be in vain.
If politics and economics
continue to collide, the
country’s future will be
anything but bright.
 Smriti Irani writes: How eight years of the Modi government
empowered India’s women
They have emerged as deciders of the nation’s destiny, opinion-makers and social change agents.
Smriti Irani, The Indian Express
U nder the stewardship
of Prime Minister
Narendra Modi, the
government has heralded a
renewed age of “nari shakti”
in the run-up to Azadi ka
Amrit Mahotsav.
Programmatic interventions in
this age attest to India’s
achievements in gender
mainstreaming, not only in
letter but in spirit. No longer
are women subjects of
unimaginative policies that
target them in limited roles as
mothers and wives. Women
are now prolific leaders,
useful hands in the labour
force and the nerve centre of
Indian society.
The Modi government has
made women’s empowerment
a sine qua non for attaining
holistic national development.
This has been achieved by
constructing a range of
mindful policy interventions.
The ration card’s exclusionary
logic of identification — with
its issuance to the usually
male head of the household —
was replaced by unique
identification for all, Aadhaar.
The Rashtriya Swasthya Bima
Yojana (RSBY) was
revamped to offer a greater
range of services for women-
centric ailments; its
unwarranted, male-
preferential cap of five
beneficiaries per family was
removed and supplanted by
the Pradhan Mantri Jan
Arogya Yojana (PM-JAY).
PM-JAY extends healthcare
services to households
without any adult male
members, bearing no
prejudice to the household
size. In the larger scheme of
things, an identity
independent of husbands and
fathers is a massive exercise in
self-assurance, self-
possession and
“aatmanirbharta” for Indian
women.
The government is catalysing
a systematic overhaul of
India’s employment and
labour architecture. The
entrepreneurial acumen of
women has taken flight under
the auspices of the Pradhan
Mantri Mudra Yojana, with
such women comprising 68
per cent of the Mudra account-
holders. Mudra loans awarded
against aspirations for
income-generating activities
have expanded opportunities
for women.
Sizeable financial obstacles
have been removed from the
lives of women with loans
against aspirations for
greenfield enterprises in
manufacturing, services and
agriculture-allied sectors
under Stand-Up India.
Further, 10 per cent of the
Startup India funds — to the
tune of Rs 1,000 crore — in
SIDBI-operated funds have
been earmarked for women-
led startups. The contribution
of women in agriculture — a
comparatively masculinised
vocation — has been called to
the fore with the annual
observation of Mahila Kisan
Diwas celebrations and a
mandate of earmarking 30 per
cent of funds in governmental,
agricultural beneficiary-
related interventions
female farmers.
Women have been put
forward as foot soldiers of
for
change. While Business
Correspondent Sakhis are
extending basic banking
services to Self-Help Groups
under the Deendayal
Antyodaya Yojana-National
Rural Livelihoods Mission
(DAY-NRLM), Mahila
Swachhagrahis are bringing
sanitation services closer
home under the Swachh
Bharat movement. Where
lacunae have been uncovered,
they have been bridged
through capacity-building.
The capacity-building
programme for Elected
Women Representatives
(EWRs) of Panchayati Raj
institutions is one such
intervention that trains women
representatives to deliberate
constructively on issues
pertaining to women and
children and enables them to
be change agents. Steps have
also been taken to reconcile
the male-female digital divide
through a digital literacy drive
under the Pradhan Mantri
Gramin Digital Sakasharta
Abhiyan (PMGDISHA).
Recognising that better-
educated women make well-
informed social, economic
and familial decisions, the
government has invested in
this virtuous future. Beti
Bachao Beti Padhao (BBBP)
— a national campaign for the
survival, protection and
greater educational
participation of the girl child
shepherded by the PM —
appears to be yielding social
gains through monitorable
targets. The sex ratio at birth
(SRB) has improved by 29
points from 991 (2015-16) to
1,020 (2019-21) as per NFHS-
5. Gross enrolment ratio
(GER) of girls in schools at
the secondary level has
improved from 68.17 per cent
(2012-13) to 79.46 per cent
(2020-21) as per UDISE-data;
in fact, between 2012-13 and
2019-20, the GER for girls at
both secondary and higher
secondary level has increased
more than that of the boys.
The road from women’s
selflessness to selfhood has
been supported by an all-
around enabling socio-
political and legal
environment. Female literacy
programmes, capacity
building modules and
livelihoods-oriented schemes
have been but some strategies
to remove barriers to the entry
of women into Indian society,
polity and economy. The
government introduced the
National Crèche Scheme for
Children of Working Mothers
in 2017 to address barriers
created by care gaps. To
further support working
women, a liberal revision over
the erstwhile 12 weeks
stipulation was offered by
way of 26 weeks of paid
maternity leave for expecting
mothers.
The government has also, in
unequivocal terms, expressed
a resolve to equalise the
otherwise inequitable
distribution of assets and
resources. The Pradhan
Mantri Ujjwala Yojana
promises concessional LPG
connections to women
beneficiaries in vulnerable
households, thus according
them greater dignity by way of
ownership of an amenity.
Simultaneously, the Ujjwala
Yojana affords women a
smoke-free environment and
alleviates the drudgery of
collecting fuelwood, lifting
them from the poverty of time
and health. With the recent
announcement by the finance
minister to subsidise up to 12
gas cylinders by a sum of Rs
200, qualms about the future
affordability of refills stand
assuaged. Coupled with the
slashing of fuel prices, amid a
global political climate of
soaring energy inflation, this
move promises greater ease of
living for women.
Similarly, the Pradhan Mantri
Awas Yojana too specifies a
preference for women
beneficiaries. In fact,
approximately 75 per cent of
homeowners under Awas
Yojana are women. The Awas
Yojana remedies the well-
chronicled, historical,
disproportionate gap in asset
ownership that deprives
women of social security and
“fallback” options during
crises.
According women’s
autonomy a central place in
public discourse, the
government has, in three
masterstrokes, made Indian
women the architects of their
own destiny. To this effect,
the undignified practice of
instant triple talaq has been
nullified through the Muslim
Women (Protection of Rights
on Marriage) Act, 2019; the
permissible gestational age for
abortion has been revised to
24 weeks — up from 20 weeks
— for vulnerable women
through the Medical
Termination of Pregnancy
(Amendment) Act, 2021; and
the legal marriage age for
women has been proposed to
be raised to 21 years, at par
with men, under the
provisions of the Prohibition
of Child Marriage
(Amendment) Bill, 2021.
Such a legal edifice ensures
women’s self-governance and
procedural independence.
This genuine commitment to
women’s empowerment has
augmented women’s ability to
make decisions. Between
NFHS-4 (2014-15) and 5
(2019-21), nearly 89 per cent
of married Indian women
participated in major
household decisions, a 5 per
cent improvement over the
previous survey. Markedly,
more women than ever before
owned houses (43.3 per cent)
— alone or jointly — and had
bank accounts (78.6 per cent)
that they themselves used.
The Modi government has led
by example in visibly
respecting “nari shakti” in its
eight years. There are eleven
women in the current Council
of Ministers, holding key
portfolios and serving as a
pleasant reminder of the
repositioning of the nucleus of
administrative initiatives.
Amrit Kaal has signalled a
tectonic shift from narratives
of reinforced, gendered
stereotypes and powerlessness
to imagining new roles for
Indian women that flex “nari
shakti”. Women have donned
new hats in the past eight
years — as deciders of the
nation’s destiny in the
capacity of strong-willed
voters exercising their
democratic rights, as opinion-
makers, as foot soldiers of
behavioural transformation
and as social change agents. In
Amrit Kaal, the future of
nation-building is
unquestionably “female”.