Tag Archive for: Joe Biden

Joe Biden’s disappearing legacy

All US presidents leave mixed legacies. The best make mistakes, and the worst get some things right. But Joe Biden’s legacy is more mixed than most, if only because he got some big things mostly right and some big things mostly wrong.

Start with the positives. The US economy performed extremely well under Biden, far outpacing its peers. Coming out of the COVID-19 pandemic, GDP increased significantly, from approximately $21 trillion in 2020 to more than $29 trillion in 2024. The economy added more than 16 million jobs, and unemployment fell substantially. And major legislation—the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, the Inflation Reduction Act and the CHIPS and Science Act—secured significant funding for infrastructure improvements, domestic microchip production and clean energy.

But the surge in federal spending also caused inflation, with consumer prices up some 20 percent over four years. It also contributed to a ballooning deficit, with government debt increasing by some $7 trillion, to $36 trillion by the end of 2024.

Biden’s biggest foreign-policy accomplishment was undoubtedly Ukraine. While the administration ultimately could not prevent Russian President Vladimir Putin’s invasion, it made unprecedented, creative use of intelligence to warn Ukraine and the world. It also settled wisely on an indirect strategy, in which the United States and its NATO partners provided Ukraine the means to defend itself while avoiding direct military involvement, which could have triggered a larger—or even nuclear—war.

The policy largely succeeded. Nearly three years after the war began, Putin has failed to achieve his aims, despite the disparity in military strength and population. Indeed, Ukraine has fought the Russian military to a near standstill and maintained its independence.

The policy was not perfect. It too often erred on the side of caution in providing Ukraine advanced weapons systems or allowing them to be used in a manner most likely to affect Russian action. Similarly, framing the war as one between the forces of democracy and authoritarianism got in the way of building a broad international coalition to oppose Russian aggression and support sanctions.

The Biden team also failed to articulate achievable war aims. Fearful of being accused of selling out a partner and compromising in the face of aggression, the administration deferred to Ukraine, which until late 2024 insisted on recovering all its lost territory dating back to 2014, a position that, while understandable, was not realistic militarily. Allowing objectives to be defined in terms that could not be met played into the hands of opponents of aid to Ukraine.

More broadly, Biden took important steps to revive alliances that had been damaged and weakened during President-elect Donald Trump’s first administration. Biden essentially replaced ‘America first’ with ‘allies first’. He understood the strategic advantages of enlisting partners on behalf of common regional and global challenges. NATO added Finland and Sweden on Biden’s watch and continued to modernise, while Biden announced a significant trilateral partnership with the United Kingdom and Australia—AUKUS—and brokered a historic rapprochement between Japan and South Korea.

Elsewhere in the Indo-Pacific, however, strategic drift prevailed. Regarding China, Biden retained Trump’s import tariffs and imposed a host of technology-related export controls. Renewed dialogue did not halt China’s ongoing military build-up or its support for Russia’s war on Ukraine. Similarly, there was scant new diplomacy vis-a-vis North Korea, which remained hostile to US interests, continued to produce nuclear weapons and missiles, and sent troops to Russia to fight on the Kremlin’s behalf.

The most glaring hole in the administration’s regional strategy was economic. Biden announced the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework, which did not amount to anything, and the US did not join any regional trade pacts, allowing China to cement its position as the region’s economic centre of gravity. As a rule, free trade gave way to protectionist policies that emphasised costly domestic production and ‘buy American’ provisions.

In Afghanistan, Biden implemented the accord negotiated and signed by Trump in February 2020 that paved the way for a Taliban takeover. Even though a strong case could be made that the pact undermined a status quo that was affordable and kept the Taliban at bay, there was no effort to revise it. After years of US funding and training, the Afghan army collapsed in a matter of days, and 13 US troops died during the chaotic evacuation.

Meanwhile, efforts to put the Middle East on the back burner imploded on 7 October, 2023. Biden was properly supportive of Israel in the days after Hamas’s attack, but near-unconditional backing made the US appear weak as subsequent Israeli military action in Gaza caused tens of thousands of civilian deaths and created a humanitarian crisis. The administration spent the bulk of its time trying to broker a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas that neither side wanted.

While the region is arguably in far better shape than it was four years ago, this has less to do with US policy than with Israel’s decapitation of Hezbollah, its decimation of Hamas, its decision to strike Iranian air-defence and weapons facilities, and the ouster of Syria’s Bashar al-Assad, which ought to be attributed to Iranian weakness, Russian distraction and Turkish opportunism.

The Biden administration’s biggest single failure was at the US southern border. Illegal immigration surged by some eight million between 2021 and 2024. The administration initially sought to differentiate its immigration policies from those of Trump, but then was slow to react when it became clear its approach wasn’t working. Biden and the Democrats paid dearly, as polls indicate it contributed significantly to Trump’s re-election.

Biden’s decision to run for re-election, despite low favourability ratings and growing signs that he was no longer up to the job, also paved the way to Trump’s victory. Had he followed through on his earlier promises to be a transitional figure and opted to be a one-term president, Democrats could have staged a competitive nomination process, giving candidates time to develop agendas and introduce themselves to voters. There is no way to know if Vice President Kamala Harris would have prevailed, but if she had, she would have been a far stronger candidate for having earned the nomination and publicly defining herself in the process.

Presidential legacies depend in large part on what successor administrations retain. It is not just Biden’s misfortune to be succeeded by Trump, who is committed to undoing much of his domestic and foreign policy. It is also in no small part Biden’s doing. His biggest legacy could be the lack of one.

From the bookshelf: ‘War’

Russia’s war on Ukraine, the war in the Middle East and the yawning chasm between liberal Americans and MAGA supporters defined much of the presidency of Joe Biden and are likely to define the political landscape for the initial years of Donald Trump’s second presidency.

In his latest book, War, Bob Woodward provides a vivid inside account of the three intertwined conflicts, casting fresh light on recent global events and providing the reader with tools to compare the outgoing and incoming administrations.

Woodward and his colleague Carl Bernstein, both working at The Washington Post, rose to instant fame in 1972 for their coverage of the Watergate scandal, which led to the resignation of US president Richard Nixon. Their book about Watergate, All The President’s Men, has been hailed as ‘the greatest reporting story of all time’.

Woodward has gone on to author or co-author a further 22 books about US politics, including several about Trump’s first presidency, and still has a desk at The Washington Post. More than half a century of reporting on the US political establishment has given him access to inside sources that other journalists can only dream of.

Woodward’s research is meticulous and his sources impeccable. As a result, War brims with direct quotes from US and world leaders and their aides that provide fresh perspective on recent political dealmaking.

Woodward takes us behind the headlines to the minute-by-minute decision-making that has shaped key political outcomes. The reality that he describes is often very different from that depicted by the media.

When Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in April 2024 ordered a missile strike on Iran that killed the ranking commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guards, and Iran responded with a massive missile strike on Israel, Netanyahu was ready to retaliate in kind and the elements were in place for all-out war. Woodward provides a blow-by-blow account of the exchange between Netanyahu and US President Joe Biden that convinced the former to back down.

Ultimately, Netanyahu agreed to a ‘small precision retaliatory response’ while sending Iran a back-channel message that Israel was ‘going to respond but we consider our response to be the end’. Iran did not respond further and, thanks to Biden’s intervention, a major crisis was averted. The reader can only speculate how Trump would have handled the situation.

Woodward also contemplates what drives presidents Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump. He reminds us that Trump views everything through a personalised prism. At a 2018 press conference in Helsinki following a summit with Putin, Trump accepted the Russian leader’s denial of meddling in the US presidential elections at face value, despite having seen extensive evidence to the contrary, and had great difficulty subsequently withdrawing his remarks. ‘[Putin] said very good things about me’, Trump explained to his aides, ‘why should I repudiate him?’

In stark contrast, Putin is driven by a deep frustration with the collapse of the Soviet Union and a desire to restore Russia to greatness. In October 2021, Biden’s intelligence directors presented him and his closest advisers with conclusive intel that Putin intended to invade Ukraine. Woodward details the incredulous responses within the US administration and among its closest European allies trying to understand why the usually low-key Putin would make such a high-risk move.

When confronted about the planned invasion by secretary of state Antony Blinken, Russian foreign minister Sergei Lavrov denied the intel point blank, blustering ‘Are you serious with this stuff?’ Interestingly, Blinken concludes that Lavrov, who is not part of Putin’s innermost circle, probably had not been kept fully in the loop.

Woodward details many other high-level exchanges. In late 2022, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz was unwilling to authorise other European countries to supply Ukraine with German-made top-of-the-line Leopard battle tanks without the United States matching the move by providing M1 Abrams tanks, which Biden was reluctant to do. Blinken and other senior staffers spent long hours convincing Biden to announce the decision without immediately providing the tanks, thus allowing Germany to go ahead.

In October 2022, Russia publicly accused Ukraine of preparing to use a dirty radioactive bomb, and indicated that it would consider this an act of nuclear terrorism to which it would respond. Woodward provides a fascinating account of the tense phone call from US Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin that convinced his Russian counterpart Sergei Shoigu to back down from the implied nuclear threat.

For Blinken, convincing Netanyahu and his war cabinet to allow the first shipment of humanitarian aid into Gaza was no less challenging.

On balance, Woodward considers the Biden presidency a success. At the centre of this success lie teamwork and continuity. Biden’s tight-knit team from the State and Defense Departments, National Security Council, Joint Chiefs of Staff and CIA worked together throughout his term to pursue a sound and coherent foreign policy. Woodward provides a set of benchmarks against which to assess the incoming US administration.

America needs political age limits

Joe Biden’s withdrawal from the 2024 US presidential race remains one of the biggest stories of the year. Criticised for his June debate performance and showing clear signs of aging, the 81-year-old president finally acknowledged what the polls were showing and handed the reins to his vice president, Kamala Harris, who is 59. Suddenly, the 78-year-old Republican nominee, Donald Trump, has gone from being the slightly younger candidate to the much older one.

While the United States does not have age limits for elected politicians, perhaps it should. The US Foreign Service requires its officers to retire by age 65, and the US military imposes retirement on flag officers at age 64, though higher-ranked generals can have their retirement deferred until 68 by the president. These age limits guarantee that those who command America’s soldiers and weapons are also in full command of their faculties. Trusted to make sharp, clear-headed decisions in the face of physically and mentally demanding situations, they cannot falter as Biden did on the debate stage.

Surely these standards should be even higher for the men and women with the most power. Yet neither the president nor any of the officials who would step into that role (the vice president, the speaker of the House of Representatives, the president pro tempore of the Senate, and so forth) face any such requirements.

Around one-third of the elected officials who control the world’s largest economy and military—35 of the 100 US senators, and 91 of the 435 members of the House—are well past what is allowable for the country’s most senior military leadership; and the same goes for the US Supreme Court, where three of the nine justices, the ultimate arbiters of US law, are 70 or older. By contrast, only 28 Fortune 500 CEOs are 70 or older.

The usual argument for allowing aged statesmen to lead is that they have the most experience. But even if one views this as an asset, its value must be weighed against all the risks that come with age – from physical ailments such as strokes and fractures to cognitive decline. Older minds may be better at putting together disparate pieces of information and interpreting the big picture, but it is unclear whether this capacity endures well into one’s 70s and 80s.

Another argument is that America’s increasingly aged leadership merely reflects an aging electorate. With around percent of US voters in 2022 over 65, we could simply be witnessing democracy at work. But the data show no obvious relationship between the age of an elected official and the age of his or her voters. The oldest elected officials do not hail from the oldest states.

Consider Senator Dianne Feinstein, who held onto office for years despite her poor health before passing away at age 90, just months after she finally retired. Her state, California, has the 10th lowest share of voters aged 65 or older. Of the 10 US states with the smallest share of over-65 voters, seven have one or more senators older than 70.

A more likely reason for aging of American leaders is that the rules have become outdated as lifespans have lengthened. There are no age restrictions for Supreme Court justices, and the US Constitution only set minimum ages for presidents, senators, and representatives: 35, 30, and 25, respectively.

The absence of mandatory retirement ages for elected and appointed federal officials reflected a world in which most people did not live long enough to experience dementia and where few could hope to survive a heart attack or a severe bone fracture. Old age was not a problem on the minds of our 18th, 19th, and early 20th century predecessors. But life expectancy for those who reach age five has increased by more than 20 years since the Constitution was drafted, and functional deterioration comes with aging.

Elected officials clinging to office well into old age is not the result of democracy at work. On the contrary, according to Freedom House, elder statesmen are more likely to lead less democratic countries. In the US, many continue to hold power because incumbency confers an electoral advantage, particularly in the Senate. The recent experiences with Feinstein and Biden highlight the dearth of formal and informal mechanisms to push out a sitting leader.

Polling from last year indicates that 79 percent of Americans would favor a maximum age for elected officials in Washington, and 74 percdent would support one for Supreme Court justices. Half of Americans would prefer a president in his or her 50s, and, while older Americans prefer older presidents, only 5 percent of respondents aged 70 or older want a president their own age.

Legend has it that when the first US president, George Washington, was six years old, he chopped down a cherry tree and could not lie when confronted about it. It’s a charming fable, but Americans should focus on a more important fact about George Washington: he refused to seek a third term, which he would have won handily, because he knew that it was time to step aside.

Democrat challenge: taking credit for some, but not all, Biden policies

US President Joe Biden’s decision to step aside as the Democratic Party’s presidential candidate this fall has transformed American politics. It caps a historic July in the United States, one defined by far-reaching Supreme Court decisions and the attempted assassination of former president Donald Trump on the eve of the Republican Convention.

Biden’s decision, urged by many Democratic Party officials and donors and favoured by many voters, was the right choice. In the wake of a debate widely viewed as a debacle for Biden, his age had made it all but impossible for him to make the case to the American people that he deserved another four years—and was making it impossible for him to make the case that Trump did not.

It is too soon to write about Biden’s legacy, if for no other reason than his presidency still has some six months left. But by stepping aside he has gone a long way toward eliminating the potential critique that by staying in the race he paved the way for a successor who shared little of his commitment to American democracy and the country’s role in the world. Indeed, had Trump defeated Biden in November, as polls were forecasting, this would have largely overshadowed Biden’s accomplishments as president.

The odds are strong that Vice President Kamala Harris will be the Democratic nominee. Biden’s endorsement will help her. But it does not settle matters, because Biden only has the authority to release party delegates committed to him, not to require them to support someone else.

So, the Democratic Convention in Chicago in August will be an open one, and the four weeks between now and then could go a long way toward determining what happens there. Harris could essentially run for the nomination unopposed, or one or more challengers might emerge. Assuming she prevails, the latter scenario might actually be to her advantage, as the process would further hone her political skills, help her be seen as a winner, and allow her to get out from under the shadow of an unpopular president.

The process would also shine a spotlight on the Democratic Party at a time when it needs to reintroduce itself to the electorate. This is essential, as Trump and Senator J D Vance, his pick for vice president, promise to be formidable campaigners. And even if Harris were to run and lose to them, polls suggest that she would outperform Biden, improving Democrats’ chances of winning the House of Representatives (keeping control of the Senate appears out of reach) and thus preventing Republicans from controlling the entire federal government.

Trump is slightly ahead of Harris in polls, but she could well get a boost in the next month as she steps into the spotlight. Harris’s prosecutorial skills, which she honed as a prosecutor and later as California’s attorney general, would serve her well in a campaign. She is well positioned to take on the extreme anti-abortion stance of this Supreme Court as well as Vance. And she would benefit from the absence of a woman or a minority on the Republican ticket.

One unavoidable challenge, however, is what might be described as the Hubert Humphrey dilemma. In 1968, Humphrey, who was vice president at the time, won the Democratic nomination after the incumbent president, Lyndon Johnson, chose not to run for re-election. The words in Biden’s withdrawal letter echoed many used by Johnson 56 years ago, the principal difference being that Biden put out his statement on X and Johnson appeared on national television.

The dilemma is this: how to appear loyal and take credit for what was popular about a presidency without being weighed down by policies that were unpopular. In 1968, it was the Vietnam War that complicated Humphrey’s run, as he found it hard to distance himself from a policy that he had been associated with and from a boss who had little tolerance for disloyalty.

No single issue dominates public debate today, but there is still a need to differentiate the Democratic nominee from Biden, as incumbency has become a burden at a time when many seek change. Anyone doubting this only needs to look at recent election results in South Africa, India, Britain and France.

This means that the Democratic nominee, whether Harris or someone else, would do well to embrace the Inflation Reduction Act, the CHIPS and Science Act, efforts to combat climate change and defend democracy, access to abortion and birth control, and military assistance to Ukraine. But it also suggests that the candidate might want to distance him or herself from a Middle East policy seen by many Americans as too pro-Israel and from policies on the border and crime viewed by many as too lax.

If Harris is the Democratic choice, her selection of a running mate will matter. Several Midwestern states are likely to be decisive in November’s election, and there is a large pool of independent voters to be won over. Governors Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan, Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania, Andy Beshear of Kentucky and Roy Cooper of North Carolina would presumably be considered, as would several members of Biden’s cabinet.

Perhaps the only thing that is certain is that less is certain after Biden’s stunning announcement. One thing is clear, though: the outcome of the presidential election will matter enormously for the US and the rest of the world. This is not normally the case, as the candidates’ similarities tend to outweigh their differences. Not so this time. The differences are profound, making it difficult to exaggerate just how much is at stake when Americans vote this November.

After Biden’s debate performance, the world should prepare for Trump

The first, and maybe only, debate between the 45th and 46th presidents of the United States constituted a clear win for Donald Trump, as far more viewers focused on Joe Biden’s apparent physical and mental infirmities than Donald Trump’s evasions and trafficking in partial or outright lies. The question now, though, is what, if any, difference it will make in the presidential election that is now just four months away.

The debate most likely increases the odds that Trump will occupy the Oval Office come noon on 20 January 2025. Going into Thursday night’s debate, Trump was slightly ahead in many of the national polls and, more importantly, in the half-dozen swing states that will most likely determine the election’s outcome. The debate only added to this advantage.

The context favours Trump. This year has already proven to be a tough one for incumbents seeking re-election, as outcomes in India and France have demonstrated (with Britain up next). Polls also show a low approval rating for the prime ministers of Japan and Canada, which could lead to a change of leadership in those countries. Biden and the US are poised to be consistent with this trend.

Like many of his fellow incumbents, Biden has struggled to manage rising immigration and economic challenges. His failure to deal effectively with the southern border has allowed some 10 million people to enter the US illegally. Then there are the effects of inflation, something voters are reminded of every time they go to grocery stores or fill their cars with gasoline. Biden can point to domestic and foreign-policy accomplishments, but they are less salient to many Americans.

Most critical is the question of his age. Doubts are widely and deeply held that Biden is simply too old for what is arguably the world’s most demanding and important job. He is 81, turns 82 in November, and, if re-elected, would turn 86 while still in the White House. And he is an old 81. As the debate demonstrated, he walks stiffly, loses his train of thought and has a weak and raspy voice. Trump is only three years younger and makes little sense when he speaks, often taking bizarre rhetorical detours, but manages to project a more vigorous image.

Given Biden’s better outing at a campaign stop the day after the debate, some believe he can bounce back. After all, Ronald Reagan and Barack Obama recovered from poor debate performances. But that was because each was seen as a great orator who had simply had a bad night. Biden’s problem is that his poor showing reinforced an already-entrenched narrative that will be difficult, if not impossible, to alter. His performance could even threaten to turn him into something of a lame duck, further weakening his influence at home and abroad.

All this said, Biden will be the Democratic Party candidate chosen at the party’s convention this August unless he takes himself out of the running and frees his pledged delegates to vote for someone else. Who this someone would be—Vice President Kamala Harris, a sitting governor or senator, a member of his cabinet—is anybody’s guess.

It is obvious that Biden and his inner circle are resisting calls (including from sympathetic editors at major news outlets) for him to step aside. Neither he nor his loyal lieutenants, many of whom have been close to him for decades, have given any indication that the president will bow out.

Biden’s declining political fortunes could well prove to be a drag on other Democratic candidates come autumn. It is possible that a Trump victory could help bring about a Republican takeover of the Senate at the same time Republicans hold the House of Representatives. Together with a Supreme Court that has increasingly demonstrated sympathy for positions supported by Trump and congressional Republicans, this would bring about the American equivalent of a parliamentary system, with power consolidated in the hands of a party—one that is better understood as radical rather than conservative.

There would be few checks on power strong enough to mitigate this imbalance; on the contrary, Trump’s plans to weaken the independence of the civil service, together with his promise to politicise the Justice Department and regulatory agencies, would concentrate power further. Trump would be free to lower taxes, impose tariffs, further restrict access to abortion, ease already loose controls on gun ownership, enforce immigration law as he sees fit and increase the enormous debt.

Foreign policy would also be vulnerable to significant change, because the US political system gives broad latitude to the executive. It is quite possible that Trump would reduce or even eliminate US support for Ukraine, hollow out US commitments to NATO, give Israel an even freer hand to prosecute war in Gaza and Lebanon and build settlements, refuse to participate in global efforts to combat climate change, and prioritise bilateral trade issues with China over broader concerns with Beijing’s behaviour abroad.

Elections have consequences, and this one more than most, given that the differences between the candidates far exceed any similarities. In the wake of a debate that appears to have tipped the scales against Biden, and with no way of knowing if someone else will be the Democratic candidate and how he or she would fare, US friends and allies should prepare themselves for potentially major changes come January.

The world in 2024

In my old job at the US State Department, colleagues often asked me what was likely to happen in this or that situation. Often, there was no way of knowing, and I reminded questioners that I was the director of policy planning, not of predicting. That said, prediction can be a useful intellectual exercise that serves us well in the new year.

The US presidential election in November is almost certain to be 2024’s most significant event. Of course, US elections are always consequential given America’s power and influence. But what makes this election fundamentally different is that it’s likely to be one in which the differences between the major party candidates far outweigh their similarities. Assuming President Joe Biden and former President Donald Trump gain their respective parties’ nominations, who wins will matter a great deal, both to the United States and to the world.

To be sure, there are some similarities between Biden and Trump. Neither believes in free trade, although Trump, unlike Biden, is an outright protectionist. Both favour a bigger role for government in the economy. Both wanted to exit Afghanistan. They also agree on the need to take a tough line towards China, especially when it comes to trade and investment in critical technologies.

But the differences are far greater. Biden is a career politician who believes in democracy, embraces its norms and is ready to work across party lines to forge compromises that benefit the country. Trump is an outsider who is fiercely partisan and rejects political norms (such as accepting electoral defeat), often putting himself before the country’s democracy.

Biden’s foreign-policy approach is centred around America’s allies, which he views as a great source of comparative advantage to the US. Trump regards allies more as economic competitors and a drain on America’s treasury. Whereas Biden has cast this period of history as a contest between democracy and autocracy, and argued that America needs to help democratic friends around the world, Trump gets along far better with autocrats and seems to envy their political control. The list of issues on which the two differ significantly is long, and includes climate change, immigration policy and access to abortion, to name a few.

As of this writing, Trump must be viewed as the favourite. His politics and persona are a better match for this populist era. Biden is also weighed down by the perception that he’s too old, and by inflation and an unpopular influx of migrants. The biggest question hovering over Trump is the extent to which his legal problems will translate into political problems.

But Americans won’t just be voting for a president; their ballots will also decide whether Congress will be controlled by the same party. For now, the upper chamber, the Senate, is in the hands of Democrats, while the House of Representatives has a Republican majority. The opposite is likely to be the case after November.

If Trump wins, a Democrat-controlled House might be the most significant limit on his power at the federal level, unless the Supreme Court shows itself to be more conservative than ideological. If Biden wins, a Republican-controlled Senate could make governing very tough.

Beyond the US, dozens of elections are scheduled to be held around the world in 2024. The first big one will take place in Taiwan on 13 January. Polls suggest a close race, with the ruling Democratic Progressive Party’s presidential candidate, William Lai, slightly ahead in a three-way race. But what matters most is that none of the candidates seems eager to do something reckless like declare independence. Still, if Lai becomes Taiwan’s next president, China would likely respond by increasing its military, economic and political coercion of the island.

Two months later, Russia, too, will hold a presidential election. There may well be no easier prediction than that Vladimir Putin will win another term.

Another easy prediction is that Mexico’s next president will be a woman after voters go to the polls in June. The two leading candidates are women, left-leaning and running on platforms that would continue many of the policies of the outgoing president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador.

The next 12 months will also be defined in no small part by the war between Russia and Ukraine. The third year of the conflict is unlikely to be decisive. Neither side can impose its will on the battlefield, and neither is inclined to negotiate.

Ukraine isn’t prepared to accept anything less than the full restoration of its 1991 borders. It may, however, be forced to adopt a more defensive strategy as Western military support is reduced. Putin appears confident that time will weaken the resolve of Ukraine’s supporters in the West. In particular, Putin is waiting to see if Trump wins, in which case he anticipates, with good reason, that US military and economic aid to Ukraine would decline precipitously, if not stop completely.

Then there’s the war between Israel and Hamas, now in its third month. At some point, the intensity of the war will fade somewhat and give way to an Israeli occupation of Gaza punctuated by periodic violence.

What follows in Gaza and in the occupied West Bank will be determined in large part by an Israeli election that will almost certainly be held this year. If Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and a like-minded government continue in power, prospects for diplomacy will be bleak. The election of a more centrist government, however, would create diplomatic possibilities for the US and its Arab partners, though any diplomatic prospects could be jeopardised by a widening of the war to Lebanon or even Iran.

As for China and US–China relations, 2024 is unlikely to be a year of dramatic change. Chinese officials are for the most part focused on the economy and not looking for a confrontation with the US that could lead to more export controls and investment restrictions. Like Russia, China will have one eye focused on US politics, although many in China are less confident that a Trump victory would necessarily be in China’s interest.

The biggest event occurring in the wake of the US election is likely to be the annual United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP29), which will take place in November in Azerbaijan. It is equally likely that the gathering won’t produce results that meaningfully stem the crisis.

Last but not least is Argentina, where a new president campaigned on a platform of radical change. History suggests that when outsiders become insiders, reality often moderates what they do. Of course, Trump provides evidence that this is not always so. Such wrinkles are one reason why these predictions are so difficult.

Biden’s trilateral breakthrough at Camp David

Many tea leaves have been read on the implications of the ground-breaking Japan–South Korea–United States summit, held at Camp David earlier this month (for example, here, here and here). The first stand-alone meeting of the three countries’ leaders is a diplomatic milestone by any standard. Along with issuing a joint statement, Seoul, Tokyo and Washington agreed to a statement of principles and entered into a commitment to consult when coordinating ‘responses to regional challenges, provocations and threats’.

The summit has set an ambitious agenda for the fledgling trilateral that appears designed to give it deep institutional roots, against the near certainty of a buffeting by future political headwinds. The three countries committed to an annual leaders’ meeting and annual meetings between foreign, defence and economy ministers, as well as between national security advisers.

In the defence domain, trilateral security cooperation will feature a multiyear exercise plan and improved cooperation on ballistic missile defence. The three countries will also stand up a working group on North Korean cyber activities, engage in enhanced information sharing and coordination, and work together to counter foreign information manipulation. A new trilateral maritime cooperation framework and a development and humanitarian response policy dialogue will focus on the Indo-Pacific.

There’s a strong economic security and technology component to the new partnership, including the piloting of a supply-chain early-warning system, a disruptive technology protection network, and a commitment to set common technology standards.

President Joe Biden deserves credit for investing political capital to detoxify and elevate the most fractious relationship between US allies in the Indo-Pacific region. His previous efforts to stabilise Japan–Korea relations, as Barack Obama’s vice president, led nowhere. It would have been understandable had Biden, as president, opted not to go there again.

Biden’s persistence has been rewarded by a breakthrough at Camp David, enabled by a rare alignment of geopolitical stars in Seoul, Washington and Tokyo. Several factors have facilitated this alignment, and the credit is shared by Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida and South Korean President Yoon Suk-yeol, who bear the biggest political risks.

Chief among the exogenous factors has been China’s self-defeating propensity to cajole Japan and South Korea in parallel. The divide-and-rule tactics that long served Beijing in its efforts to weaken the US regional alliance system have given way to a hardcore offend-and-unify approach under Xi Jinping. To have Seoul and Tokyo singing from the same hymn sheet about ‘the importance of peace and stability across the Taiwan Strait as an indispensable element of security and prosperity in the international community’ is partly a product of Beijing’s tin ear.

Had history taken a different turn, and Japan not colonised the Korean peninsula in the early 20th century, the two countries could have been natural allies. The recent US-brokered rapprochement falls short of that potential: implementation of the trilateral cooperation agenda will remain hostage to domestic politics in Japan, South Korea and even the United States for years to come. The progress achieved at Camp David is fragile and reversible.

That said, few commentators would have predicted such a rapid and promising turnaround in Japan–Korea relations, which to many appeared trapped in perpetual toxicity. The birth of the new trilateral demonstrates that well-crafted, well-timed diplomacy can still surprise, and that US leadership can still deliver effective results.

The latter is worth emphasising, because the Biden administration’s Asia policy came under immediate criticism after the Camp David agreement, when it emerged that the president would not attend this year’s East Asia Summit or the US-ASEAN summit in Jakarta. Biden’s absence calls into question the US commitment to ASEAN-centred multilateralism. Yet the contrast between Camp David and Biden’s ‘no-show’ in Jakarta is instructive about US diplomatic priorities in the region. Washington’s main engagement effort runs on minilateral and bilateral tracks, with allies at its core, plus designated partners, such as India and Vietnam.

While Biden deserves praise for bringing Tokyo and Seoul closer together, the longevity of their festering relationship is partly a structural shortcoming of the US alliance framework in the Pacific. The bilateral hub-and-spokes model, in contrast with the collective defence principle in NATO, was built to serve US hegemony in a different age. ‘Cross-bracing’ the spokes has long been the aim, yet it has taken on urgency belatedly given the scale of the challenge. The Japanese and Korean alliance spokes are both burden-bearing, but the growing distance between them has steadily weakened the wheel. The commitment to consult among the three countries agreed at Camp David is an important and symbolic step towards modernising and strengthening the US alliance system in Asia.

The obvious gain for Australia from the Japan–Korea–US partnership is thus indirect, via an alliance system that is more fit for purpose to provide mutual reinforcement, and less prone to divide-and-rule tactics from that other incipient Northeast Asian triple axis, posed collectively by China, North Korea and Russia.

South Korea’s agreement to sign up to language that explicitly recognises China as a threat to regional security is significant. If the new trilateral helps to channel Seoul’s energy and capacity into a broader regional role, raising its strategic horizons beyond the Korean peninsula, then Canberra can expect some downstream boost to its own defence and security partnership with Seoul, which has struggled to convert its potential. Australia takes part in a quadrilateral fleet commanders’ initiative with Japan, South Korea and the US. This lesser-known naval quartet presents a natural opportunity for Australia to participate in the new Japan–Korea–US Trilateral Maritime Security Cooperation Framework.

Australia is already in two important defence trilaterals: with the US and Japan and AUKUS. Then there’s the Quad. The Japan–Korea–US trilateral should serve as a reminder—if one were needed—that Australia is not central to every new US alliance or minilateral initiative in the region. In fact, the US military’s forward footprint in the Western Pacific remains resolutely top-heavy in Northeast Asia, while the military and economic capacities of Japan and South Korea are simply in a different league to Australia’s.

Some observers have warned that the new trilateral could struggle to compete for high-level attention with the Quad. While that may be true initially, if three-way cooperation involving Washington’s two-biggest Pacific allies gains momentum, it could be the Quad that struggles. Trilaterals may be Washington’s minilateral building blocks of choice in the Indo-Pacific, especially now that the Quad has foolishly dealt itself out of a hard security role in deference to Southeast Asian nervous sensibilities vis-à-vis China.

Deterrence is not enough in Northeast Asia

On 18 August, the leaders of the United States, South Korea and Japan met at Camp David for their first trilateral summit. The resulting agreement to deepen military and intelligence cooperation has steered Northeast Asian geopolitics into uncharted territory.

In view of the rising threat from North Korea, deteriorating ties with China, and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, US President Joe Biden’s administration has pursued a bold and systematic regional strategy. Multilateral coalitions like this one, the reinvigorated Quad (Australia, India, Japan and the US) and the relatively new AUKUS arrangement augment the traditional hub-and-spoke model of security cooperation in the Asia–Pacific, with the US at the centre of each.

From the US perspective, the strained relationship between South Korea and Japan—America’s most important allies in East Asia—has long been a strategic obstacle. Since he was Barack Obama’s vice president, Biden has been eager to help the two countries—long at odds over historical disputes and territorial issues—mend fences.

South Korean President Yoon Suk-yeol’s audacious decision early in his presidency to normalise relations with Japan offered Biden a rare opportunity. Specifically, Yoon decided in March not to seek money from Japan to compensate South Korean victims of forced labour during World War II—a proposal that, at the time, only 35% of Koreans supported and around 59% opposed.

Forging closer ties with Japan is crucial for Yoon to achieve his foreign-policy goal of making South Korea a pivotal global player. Former South Korean president Park Geun-hye, for example, struggled to pursue her ambitious Northeast Asia Peace and Cooperation Initiative while maintaining a hostile relationship with such a large and important neighbour. Whether Yoon can smooth over their differences and cement more positive bilateral ties remains to be seen.

China and North Korea will likely push back against the effort to institutionalise cooperation between the US, South Korea and Japan. But, to reach its full potential, this new deterrence structure must be accompanied by an openness to dialogue with both countries.

To guard against misunderstandings and prevent further escalation of the situation in Taiwan, which is China’s central concern, the US must step up its efforts to re-establish military communication channels with China. Likewise, South Korea and the US, supported by Japan, should communicate to North Korea that they are ready and willing to engage in diplomatic dialogue; the enhanced trilateral deterrence posture envisioned at Camp David won’t achieve regional peace on its own.

The most formidable challenge to the Japan–Korea–US partnership, however, is domestic political pressure, especially in South Korea. Critics of Yoon’s decision to thaw relations with Japan believe that the president is naive and that South Korea is paying dearly for joining this group while getting very little in return. For Yoon, convincing these naysayers will be critical to the success of his presidency: his margin of victory in the presidential election was just 0.74%, and after almost 16 months in office, his approval rating stands at only 37.6%.

There are three ways that the US and Japan could help South Korea solve this challenge. First, while strengthened security cooperation is certainly an important foreign-policy achievement, the group must accelerate the implementation of their agreements on economic and technological assistance. Making visible progress on these fronts and delivering tangible benefits to Yoon’s critics could help shift public opinion towards a more favourable view of the new partnership.

Second, if China continues to engage in coercive commercial diplomacy against South Korea, the US response will matter a great deal to South Koreans. Former US president Donald Trump’s administration did nothing when China sanctioned South Korea for its deployment of a US THAAD anti-missile system in 2016. Whether the three countries can act together on this issue will be a key factor in deciding the group’s future. Moreover, the Biden administration could also turn South Korean public opinion against the Japan–Korea–US security agreement if it enacts more legislation that discriminates against foreign companies, as both the Inflation Reduction Act and the CHIPS and Science Act do.

Third, Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida must be proactive in improving ties with South Korea. While Kishida has been cooperative, many believe that his actions are not commensurate with the political risks taken by Yoon. They also fear that inappropriate, and often crude, comments about Japan’s long occupation of South Korea made by some members of Kishida’s Liberal Democratic Party could undermine Yoon’s attempt to extend an olive branch.

The challenge of winning over public opinion in South Korea pales in comparison to the risks for the region if Trump wins the US presidential election in 2024. In that case, the infant Japan–Korea–US partnership may have no future. To solidify his diplomatic achievements and to prevent a policy reversal in Northeast Asia, Biden must fully implement every aspect of the agreements reached at Camp David before next November.

Bedlam in Afghanistan and Pakistan

Afghanistan and Pakistan are sinking deeper into disarray, and the United States bears a significant share of the blame. As long as this long-troubled region remains mired in turmoil, Islamist terrorism will continue to thrive, with grave implications for international security.

Begin with Afghanistan. In the nearly 22 months since the US abandoned the country to the Pakistan-backed Taliban militia, a terrorist super-state has emerged. Beyond committing atrocities against the Afghan people and reimposing medieval practices, including reducing Afghan women’s status to that of chattels, the Taliban has sustained cosy ties with al-Qaeda and several other terror groups.

As a leaked Pentagon assessment reports, Afghanistan has become a safe haven and staging ground for al-Qaeda and Islamic State terrorists planning attacks on targets in Asia, Europe and the US. This should come as no surprise. The Taliban regime’s cabinet includes a veritable who’s who of international terrorists and narcotics traffickers, and it was in Kabul last year that an American drone strike killed al-Qaeda leader and UN-designated global terrorist Ayman al-Zawahiri.

While Islamic State may be seeking to expand its international operations from Afghanistan, it is al-Qaeda’s alliance with the Taliban that poses the greater long-term international threat. When the US withdrew suddenly from the country, it not only abandoned its allies there, but also left behind billions of dollars’ worth of sophisticated American military equipment, in addition to several military bases, including the strategically valuable Bagram airbase. The Taliban is now the world’s only terrorist organisation with its own air force, however rudimentary.

In a 12-page document issued last month, President Joe Biden’s administration sought to shift the blame for the Afghan fiasco onto Donald Trump, claiming that Biden’s ‘choices for how to execute a withdrawal from Afghanistan were severely constrained by conditions created by his predecessor’. But, while the Trump administration undoubtedly cut a terrible deal with the Taliban, it was Biden who—overruling his top military generals—made the choices that triggered Afghanistan’s descent into chaos and facilitated the Taliban’s swift return to power.

US policy towards Pakistan has also been deeply misguided. It is thanks to a longstanding partnership with the US that Pakistan’s military and its rogue Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) agency have been able to use terrorism as an instrument of state policy against neighbouring countries. The Trump administration seemed to recognise that and pledged to keep Pakistan at arm’s length until it ended its unholy alliance with terrorist organisations.

But the Biden administration has reversed that policy. Even though Pakistan played an integral role in enabling the Taliban—which the ISI helped create in the early 1990s—to defeat the US in Afghanistan, the Biden administration helped the Pakistani government stave off debt default last year. Soon after, the US unveiled a $450-million deal to modernise Pakistan’s US-supplied F-16s (which it values as delivery vehicles for nuclear weapons). The US then helped Pakistan get off the ‘grey list’ maintained by the Paris-based Financial Action Task Force, the intergovernmental agency combating terrorist financing.

Today, Pakistan is facing profound political instability, rooted in a skewed civil–military relationship. Pakistan’s military has long been untouchable. It has ruled directly for 33 years. And when not technically in power, it has insisted on a pliant civilian administration that defers to the generals’ de facto leadership. Pakistan’s military, and its intelligence and nuclear establishment, have never answered to the civilian government. On the contrary, since 2017, two prime ministers have been ousted after falling out of favour with the military.

But supporters of one of those prime ministers, Imran Khan, are now mounting the first direct challenge to the military’s authority since Pakistan’s founding 75 years ago. Following Khan’s arrest on corruption charges earlier this month, mass protests erupted across Pakistan. Demonstrators stormed military properties, including the army headquarters and a major ISI facility, and set ablaze a top army commander’s home.

As the political crisis unfolds, Pakistan continues to teeter on the brink of default. It is being kept afloat by short-term loans from allies, until it can convince the International Monetary Fund to restart a suspended bailout program. This gives the international community leverage to force change in the country.

It is developments at home, especially the unprecedented anti-military protests, that have the greatest potential to force a rebalancing of civilian–military relations. But the military will not go down without a fight: the creeping shadow of military rule has already led to mass arrests, with the chief of army staff announcing trials under military law of civilians charged in the recent violence. The military could declare a state of emergency, in order to give itself carte blanche to stifle dissent, or it could stage another coup. The conflict could also erupt into civil war—ideal conditions for international terrorist forces to thrive.

For now, Pakistan remains a hub of terrorism and is contributing significantly to Afghanistan’s destabilisation. Unless the nexus between Pakistan’s military and terrorist groups is severed, the situation in Afghanistan will not improve, and the battle against international terrorism will not be won.

The US–India partnership is too important to lose

The strategic partnership between the United States and India is pivotal to maintaining the balance of power in the vast Indo-Pacific region and counterbalancing China’s hegemonic ambitions. The US is India’s second-largest trading partner, and deepening the ties between the two countries is one of the rare bipartisan foreign policies that exists in Washington today.

The upcoming October 18–31 joint military exercise known as Yudh Abhyas (war practice), in a high-altitude area less than 100 kilometres from India’s border with China, highlights the partnership’s growing strategic importance. India holds more annual military exercises with the US than any other country, as the two powers seek to improve their forces’ interoperability. As Admiral Michael M. Gilday, the US Navy’s chief of naval operations, put it recently, India is a ‘crucial partner’ in countering China’s rise.

But President Joe Biden’s decision to withdraw US forces from Afghanistan and effectively surrender the country to a Pakistan-reared terrorist militia, in addition to tensions related to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, have strained the relationship between the world’s most powerful and most populous democracies.

Like many other countries, including US allies such as Israel and Turkey, India has taken a neutral stance on the war in Ukraine. Much to the chagrin of the US and Europe, the country has continued to purchase discounted oil from Russia, rebuffing the Biden administration’s offer to replace Russian oil with US supplies. Instead, India has increased its imports of Russian crude.

At the heart of India’s decision is fear of losing out to China. Since 2019, the US has used the sanctions on Iran’s oil exports to deprive India of cheaper Iranian oil, thereby turning it into the largest market for US energy exporters. The main beneficiary of the sanctions is China, which has increased its purchases of Iranian oil at a discount and developed a security partnership with the Islamic republic without facing US reprisal.

While the US has already surpassed Russia as India’s largest weapons supplier, the American defence sector views the war in Ukraine as a ‘great opportunity’ for arms sales to India to ‘surge’. US Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin has urged Indian officials to avoid buying Russian equipment and purchase US-made weapons from now on.

Yet Biden’s overriding focus on punishing Russia could exacerbate India’s security challenges, especially if the international efforts to pressure Russian President Vladimir Putin inadvertently empower an expansionist China. The US-led sanctions and Europe’s shift away from Russian energy effectively put Russia—the world’s most resource-rich country—in the pocket of the resource-hungry Chinese. Its alliance with Russia has allowed China to build an energy safety net through an increase in land-based imports, which, unlike seaborne deliveries, cannot be blockaded if Chinese President Xi Jinping decides to invade Taiwan.

Meanwhile, America’s recent US$450 million deal to modernise Pakistan’s fleet of F-16 fighter jets—unveiled days after the US helped the country stave off an imminent debt default through an International Monetary Fund bailout—has evoked bitter memories of the US arming Pakistan against India and supporting the initial development of the Pakistani nuclear-weapons program during the Cold War.

The Biden administration’s disingenuous claim that upgrading Pakistan’s US-supplied F-16 fleet would advance counterterrorism has prompted a sharp response from India. During a recent visit to Washington, Indian Foreign Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar publicly condemned the deal, saying that the American explanation ‘is not fooling anyone’. In case of conflict, Pakistan would undoubtedly deploy the upgraded fighter jets against India.

Against this backdrop, some observers have revived the old theory that US–India ties fare better under Republican administrations. Bilateral relations thrived during President Donald Trump’s administration, which relied heavily on India in developing its Indo-Pacific strategy. Trump instituted new US policies on China and Pakistan, whose increasingly close partnership has raised the prospect of India fighting a two-front war. In a major shift, Trump ended the 45-year US policy of aiding China’s rise. He also cut off security aid to Pakistan for not severing its ties with terrorist groups.

Biden, on the other hand, has resumed America’s coddling of Pakistan, made outreach to Beijing a high priority and said nothing about China’s encroachments on Indian territory in the Himalayas. But by locking horns with China in a 30-month military standoff, India has openly challenged Chinese power in a way no other world power has done in this century.

Nothing better illustrates Biden’s neglect of the relationship with India than the fact that, since he took office, there has been no US ambassador in New Delhi. Meanwhile, the US ambassador to Pakistan, Donald Blome, caused an uproar during a visit to the Pakistani-held part of Kashmir, which he called by its Pakistani name—‘Azad [Liberated] Jammu and Kashmir’—instead of ‘Pakistan-administered Kashmir,’ as the United Nations calls it.

The Biden administration has also been trying to leverage human-rights issues against India. In April, US Secretary of State Antony Blinken alleged a ‘rise in human-rights abuses’ in the country, prompting Jaishankar to counter that India is similarly concerned about the state of human rights in the US. Likewise, prominent members of the US Democratic Party can barely conceal their hostility to Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his brand of Hindu nationalism.

Given that the US and India are both bitterly polarised democracies, officials should avoid statements that could inflame domestic tensions. If the US wishes to shift strategic focus to the Indo-Pacific, it must improve relations with its most important strategic ally in Asia. To that end, Biden must not squander the historic opportunity to forge a ‘soft’ alliance with India. If the US is to prevail in its escalating rivalry with China and Russia and avoid strategic overreach, it needs India more than ever. But without mutual respect, the bilateral partnership is doomed.