CYBER WARFARE IN THE ERA OF THE CORONAVIRUS

By Jule Voss

The importance of technology has never been more apparent than during the COVID-19 pandemic. For the 4.57 billion people who have access to it, the internet has become a lifeline during the pandemic, providing virtual options for employment, education, banking, health care services, psycho-social support, and vital information about the coronavirus. So what would happen if all government websites, news services, and financial institutions suddenly went offline for weeks at a time?

This is exactly what happened in Estonia and Georgia following Russian cyber-attacks in 2007 and 2008. Kremlin-affiliated hackers used distributed denial of service attacks (DDoS) to shut down key online infrastructures in acts of cyber warfare. In these DDoS attacks, the hackers generated an overwhelming number of logon requests for specific IP addresses associated with the government, banks, and news sites to overwhelm the system and block access. 

In Estonia, the attacks were triggered by the government’s decision to move a Russian war memorial statue from the nation’s capital to a military cemetery; in Georgia, they were carried out as part of the Russo-Georgian War in 2008. During the attacks, Estonia even considered invoking NATO’s Article 5—the provision for collective defense in the event of an armed attack against a NATO member.

While Russia has in many ways ushered in the era of cyber warfare, other nations, including China, the United States, and Israel, have been quick to follow suit. In one particularly astonishing case, a cyber weapon known as Stuxnet destroyed nuclear centrifuges at the Natanz nuclear facility, one of Iran’s primary uranium enrichment sites. The computer virus, which is widely believed to have been jointly created by the United States and Israel, targeted programmable logic controllers in Siemens centrifuges, causing the devices to spin out of control. No one was harmed by the attack, but the destruction likely set back Iran’s nuclear program by up to five years.

By many accounts, the Stuxnet virus is an example of the positive capabilities of cyber weapons—a targeted attack that avoided the kind of conventional military strike considered during the George W. Bush administration and which resulted in no human casualties. 

However, the Stuxnet virus also marks the start of a new era of cyber warfare in which the traditional rules outlined in the UN Charter and international humanitarian law (IHL) may no longer apply. 

After discussions spanning multiple years, a UN Group of Governmental Experts appointed by the UN General Assembly in 2013 failed to research a conclusion about whether or not IHL— including the prohibition on indiscriminate attacks against civilians—applied to cyber warfare. Without a comprehensive international framework to limit the use of cyber weapons, the safety and security of every citizen of the world will remain at risk.

CHINA'S QUIET INFLUENCE ON ETHIOPIAN DEVELOPMENT

By Jack Massingill

On its face, Ethiopia’s controversial construction of its Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) on the Blue Nile appears to be another manifestation of the country’s historic independence from colonialism. Due partly to its isolated situation high among the Semien and Bale mountains and partly to the unity and organization of its monarchy, Ethiopia successfully defended itself against British and Italian invasions for a century. Mussolini’s forces briefly overran the country in 1936, but Ethiopia regained sovereignty by 1942, becoming the shining star of the developing pan-African movement. To many, it was an example of Africa’s capacity for unity and self-determination in the face of European imperialism. Today the Ethiopian government publicly and enthusiastically seeks to fill that role; that is, the role of the pan-African hero. However, in its efforts to use the GERD to do so, it jeopardizes the independence that earned Ethiopia its reputation in the first place.

The Ethiopian government plans for the GERD to yield 16.15 terawatt-hours (TWh) of electric power per year upon its completion, more than doubling the country’s current energy output, which came to 11.15TWh in 2016. The government plans to use this immense new hydroelectric capability to provide electricity to impoverished neighboring countries as well as its own people. The dam also threatens the livelihood of millions of Egyptians downstream, who depend on the Nile’s water for agriculture--water that the GERD will stop up. Because of this threat, the United States has warned Ethiopia that it will restrict humanitarian aid unless the latter nation comes to an agreement with Egypt regarding the fair use of the Nile. The Ethiopian government has gone ahead with its construction of the GERD anyway, and began to fill the dam in July 2020. Of course, the aid that the U.S. sends to Ethiopia is not electricity. What Ethiopia generates for itself is not exactly comparable to what it risks losing. But the Ethiopian government’s headstrong continuity in its construction of the GERD is an example, from a pan-Africanist perspective, of its independence from the West. Apparently, it does not rely on foreign aid as much as it has faith in what it can provide for itself.

But the GERD is not being built entirely without foreign assistance: it is a developing pearl under the quiet pressure of China’s Belt and Road Initiative. The Ethiopian government proudly publicizes that the dam is funded by Ethiopians through bonds and private investment, and this is true. But in 2019, the government also hired two Chinese contractors--one of which is owned by the Chinese government--to contribute to the dam’s construction for a total of over 150 million dollars. In addition, the Chinese state has loaned Ethiopia three billion dollars since 2013 to “build power transmission lines to connect the [GERD] to major towns and cities” and to “fund the expansion of Ethiopia’s power grid”, according to the South China Morning Post. China, by Xi Jinping’s direction, has invested significantly in Ethiopia’s economic development, as well as in that of much of Africa, in its ongoing bid to win the favor of, and influence over, the developing countries of the continent.

Far from all of China’s African investments are targeted toward the GERD--since 2014, American foreign direct investment in Africa has plummeted to zero while China’s has nearly doubled to six billion dollars a year. But just as Ethiopia has long been the most exemplary microcosm of pan-African ideals in practice, so is its massive dam a symbol of the deceptively alluring promise of Chinese wealth in the 21st century. Whether China or its beneficiary countries publicly contextualize it as such, their relationship through the Belt and Road Initiative is almost always reinforced by, and perhaps founded on, their shared past of being victimized by imperialists. For this reason, in addition to China’s willingness to fund their needs, underdeveloped countries in Southeast Asia and Africa, Ethiopia among them, may be persuaded to accept Chinese investment and partnership over that of the U.S. But Ethiopia and the PRC will be only ‘partners’ for as long as it is in the latter nation’s interest to be. In 2020, despite similar past traumas, China is not a victim of imperialism, but has all the resources--which Ethiopia does not--to become a victimizer. American money may not be any better an alternative, especially during the Trump presidency, but Chinese influence undeniably endangers the independence that preserved Ethiopia through the world’s last period of imperialism. For now, that influence remains unspoken and unchecked, accumulating incrementally as the rain falls.

HOW WILL COLOMBIA PAY FOR ITS PEACE AGREEMENT?

By Ben Gustafson

In 2016, the Colombian government led by Juan Manuel Santos unveiled a groundbreaking peace agreement with Colombia’s largest rebel group, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (known as the FARC). With the agreement, the government hoped to end the longest-running armed conflict in the Western Hemisphere, which displaced millions and left at least 220,000 dead. However, Colombians quickly realized that creating the agreement was the easy part. Implementing proved to be much more difficult.

In many ways, the government failed to keep their side of the bargain. First, the government promised to rectify the economic inequality that has plagued the Colombian countryside since the FARC’s inception. The government planned to redistribute land, ensure property rights within a new rural legal system, and inject the countryside with massive infrastructure projects. Yet according to New York Times reporter Nicholas Casey, millions of Colombians still await the promised arrival of roads, schools and electricity.

Additionally, the government guaranteed victims adequate financial reparations and an end to the conflict. As of 2019, the government had only provided reparations to only 10% of the more than 8.8 million victims, according to a Brookings Institution report. Casey reports that since the peace deal was signed, at least 500 activists and community leaders have been killed, and more than 210,000 people displaced from their homes amid the continuing violence.

The problem is partly political will. Many Colombians saw the agreement as a capitulation to the FARC, resulting in the election of conservative President Ivan Duque. However, even Duque would like to implement rural reform, the first and most important issue in the agreement. In fact, according to Emilio Archila, High Presidential Councilor for Stabilization and Consolidation, Duque has allocated 150 million dollars for a multipurpose land registry and presented legislation to address irrigation issues in rural areas.

Implementing the peace agreement is not so much a political problem as it is an economic problem. Archila said it best, “it all comes down to one word: money. The issue is not the lack of will, but the lack of resources.” Point one of the agreement, rural reform, represents 85% of all implementation costs, and the government simply does not have the resources. Colombia’s government is $25 billion short, according to newspaper El Tiempo.

Thus, before the government can focus on implementation, the government must figure out how to pay for it. The first solution that comes to mind is deficit spending. However, if the government decides to spend money it doesn’t have, it must carefully evaluate the economic consequences. There’s a possibility that deficit spending could hurt the economy, leaving the prospects of successful implementation of the agreement even worse.

The government must find creative solutions to its fiscal dilemma. They could start by looking at what is already working in the Colombian countryside. One industry that seems to be doing something right is the cocaine industry. In 2017, despite the government’s efforts at forced eradication and crop-substitution programs, coca production soared to an all-time high, according to the Economist. One reason is many areas lack quality roads necessary to transport crops. Without roads, the only option many farmers have is to cultivate coca because they can turn an acre of coca leaves into a few kilograms of cocaine paste, which can be carried into town in a backpack.

One potential solution to Colombia’s financial problem is to legalize coca production for lawful uses. A report published by the US-based Open Society Foundation details the potential application of coca in nutrition, natural medicine, personal care, and agro-industry. According to freelance journalist Lucy Sheriff, coca fertilizers were found by the researchers to be a low-cost, high-nutrient technology. The report identifies Peru and Bolivia as examples of how coca legislation can be successfully implemented. If Colombia followed suit, they would no longer need to spend millions of coca eradication and crop-substitution. Additionally, the new tax revenue could help pay for rural infrastructure.

However, many have their doubts about legalizing coca products. For example, Ana María Rueda, an adviser to Colombia’s drug policy director, says there’s no market for coca products. Rueda also mentions that if the government legalized coca, it would need to be able to regulate the coca market. Without a significant state presence in the countryside, effective regulation would be very difficult. Thus, the problem comes back to state capacity and the government’s ability to fund rural infrastructure.

In a perfect world, Colombia should not have over-promised, but here we are. Above all else, Colombia must focus on raising money for its comprehensive rural reform. The government will likely need to look to innovative solutions, like promoting alternative uses for the coca leaf. Ultimately, peace will not last long if the government continues on its present course.