Since Queen Elizabeth II died last week at the age of 96, tributes to her have poured in from the U.K. and across the world. But many Africans regard the late queen as the symbol of a cruel institution that subjugated millions, plundered wealth from their lands and imposed conditions that continue to haunt them to this day.
Last week’s change of government in the U.K., followed by the death of Queen Elizabeth II, put the spotlight on the country’s global role. Many regions got their share of news coverage in the memorials of Elizabeth’s life, but not the Middle East, reflecting its low importance on the list of London’s priorities.
The IAEA has found itself in the thick of two global political crises—securing a Ukrainian nuclear power plant and enforcing oversight of Iran’s nuclear program. Its chief, Rafael Grossi, has managed both files with dexterity, but his ongoing success will depend on his ability to avoid alienating any of the parties involved.
Just days after Liz Truss became the U.K.’s fourth prime minister in six years, Queen Elizabeth II, the longest-serving monarch in the country’s history, died at the age of 96. The wide range of reactions to her death, both within the U.K. and around the world, say a lot about the country, but also about current global politics.
In the aftermath of Mikhail Gorbachev’s death last week, many observers wondered if another Gorbachev-like figure could reverse Russia’s course after President Vladimir Putin leaves power, like Gorbachev did for the Soviet Union. But that’s unlikely. And the image of Gorbachev that guides such hopes is less than accurate.
Swedish voters head to the polls on Sept. 11, with no clear sign of what the outcome will be, and the leading coalitions running neck-and-neck. The general election comes at a time of global geopolitical and economic instability due to the war in Ukraine, which has had a major impact on Sweden’s foreign policy orientation.
Documents are flying around Brussels with various proposals to resolve Europe’s energy crisis, ahead of a pivotal emergency meeting of the EU’s energy ministers scheduled for tomorrow. But there remain several unanswered questions, including whether those proposals will be durable or sustainable in the long term.
In Western liberal democracies, anti-China rhetoric seeks to embolden patriotism among Western citizens and provide a clear framework around which to rally the public. In practice, however, this pattern of behavior reveals more about the West than it does about Beijing. It also works to undermine key premises of liberal democracy.
There is nothing more depressing than seeing policymakers surprised by a crisis that informed observers have been predicting for many years. A case in point is the way the EU and the U.K. have lurched into furious action after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine to address their energy dependence on Russia and other autocracies.
Britain’s Conservative party leadership battle ended on Monday with Liz Truss, the former foreign secretary, beating Rishi Sunak, former chancellor of the exchequer, to become the country’s fourth prime minister in six years. But the turbulence that has plagued British politics over much of the past decade looks set to continue.
European Union bureaucrats are busy figuring out how to implement the agreement reached this week in Prague by EU foreign ministers to end visa facilitation for Russian tourists visiting the union. But many of the bloc’s members fear that the policy could strengthen Putin’s hand and hurt ethnic Russians living in the union.
Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi’s tour of Central Asia in July highlighted Beijing’s growing influence in the region. China has become a top trade partner and investor, surpassing Russia, its silent rival there. With Moscow now preoccupied with the war in Ukraine, Beijing is poised to secure its lead once and for all.