A new bloody phase has opened up in Syria, as if it was ever possible to contemplate another one in that tormented land. Silly terms such as “moderate” are being paired with “rebels”, a coupling that can also draw scorn.

What counts as news reporting on the subject in the Western press stable adopts a threadbare approach. We read or hear almost nothing about the dominant backers in this latest round of bloodletting. “With little warning last Wednesday, a coalition of Syrian rebels launched a rapid assault that soon seized Aleppo as well as towns in the nearby Idlib and Hama provinces,” reported NBC News, drawing its material from the UK-based Syrian Observatory for Human Rights.

We are told about the advances of one organisation in particular: Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), an outgrowth of Jabhat al-Nusra, a former al–Qaeda affiliate. While the urgent reporting stressed the suddenness of it all, HTS has been playing in the jihadi playground since 2017, suggesting that it is far from a neophyte organisation keen to get in on the kill.

From Al Jazeera, we get pulpier detail. HTS is the biggest group in what is dubbed Operation Deterrence of Aggression. HTS itself comprises Jabhat Fateh al-Sham, Liwa al-Haqq, Jabhat Ansar al-Din and Jaysh al-Sunna. That umbrella group is drawn from the Fateh al-Mubin operations centre, which is responsible for overseeing the broader activities of the armed opposition in northwestern Syria under the control of the Syrian Salvation Government (SSG). It is through the offices of SSG that HTS delivers essential goods while running food and welfare programs. Through that governance wing, civil documentation for some 3 million civilians, two-thirds of whom are internally displaced people, has been issued.

The group, headed by Abu Mohammed al-Jawlani, himself an al-Qaeda recruit from 2003, then of Jabhat al-Nusra, has done much since its leader fell out with Islamic State and al-Qaeda. For one, HTS has a series of goals. It purports to be an indigenous movement keen on eliminating the Assad regime, establishing Islamic rule and expelling all Iranian militias from Syrian soil. But megalomania among zealots will always out, and al-Jawlani has shown himself a convert to an even broader cause, evidenced by this remark: “with this spirit… we will not only reach Damascus, but, Allah permitting, Jerusalem will be awaiting our arrival.”

All of these measures conform to the same Jihadi fundamentalism that would draw funding from any Western intelligence service, provided they are fighting the appropriate villain of the moment. We should also expect routine beheadings, frequent atrocities and indulgent pillaging. But no, the cognoscenti would have you believe otherwise. We are dealing, supposedly, with a different beast, calmer, wiser, and cashed-up.

For one thing, HTS is said to be largely self-sufficient, exercising a monopoly through its control of the al-Sham Bank and the oil sector through the Watad Company. It has also, in the words of Robin Yassin-Kassab, become a “greatly moderated and better organised reincarnation of Jabhat al-Nusra.” This could hardly cause cheer, but Yassin-Kassab at least admits that the group remains “an authoritarian Islamist militia” though not in the eschatological fanatical mould of its forebears. “It has a much more positive policy towards sectarian and ethnic minorities than ISIS.” Fewer beheadings, perhaps.

A fascinating omission in much commentary on these advances is Turkey’s outsized role. Turkey has been the stalking figure of much of the rebel resistance against the Assad regime, certainly over the last few years. Of late, it has tried, without much purchase, to normalise ties with Assad. In truth, such efforts stretch as far back as late 2022. The topics of concern for Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdoĝan are few: dealing with the Kurdish resistance fighters he sorely wishes to liquidate as alleged extensions of the PKK, and the Syrian refugee problem. The Syrian leader has made any rapprochement between the two states contingent on the withdrawal of Turkish forces from Syria.

With Damascus proving icily dismissive, Ankara got irate. Indeed, there is even a suggestion, if one is to believe the assessment by Ömer Özkizilcik of the Atlantic Council, that Turkey was instrumental in initially preventing the rebels from attacking as far back as seven weeks ago.

Much in the latest spray of analysis, along with unfolding events, will require much revisiting and revision. There is the issue of lingering Turkish influence, and whether Erdoĝan’s words will mean much to the charges of HTS as they fatten themselves on the spoils of victory.There is the behaviour of HTS, which is unlikely to remain restrained in a warring environment that seems to treat atrocities as mother’s milk. (Al-Jawlani has not shown himself to be above the targeting and massacring of civilians.) The retaliation from the Syrian government and Russian forces not otherwise deployed against Ukraine also promises to be pitilessly brutal.

Then there are the untold consequences of a Syria free of Assad, a fate longed for by the coarsened righteous in Western circles and emboldened al-Jawlani. This is certainly not off the books, given that both Iran and Russia are preoccupied, respectively, with Israel and Ukraine.

Were the regime, bloodthirsty as it is, to collapse, yet another cataclysmic tide of holy book vengeance is bound to ripple through the region. Never mind: the babble about God and theocracy will be happily supplemented by covert operations and arms sales, all overseen by a wickedly smiling Mammon.

The comity of nations, at least when it comes to international humanitarian law, took a rather curious turn with the announcement by France that it would regard Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s immunity as unimpeachable even before an arrest warrant approved by the International Criminal Court. This view was expressed despite France claiming to be a strong proponent of the ICC and international law.

On November 27, Foreign Minister Jean-Noël Barrot had mooted the point on Franceinfo radio that France, while being “very committed to international justice and will apply international law based on its obligations to cooperate with the ICC” had to still consider the limits of the Court’s own statute, which “deals with questions of immunities for certain leaders.” Giving himself room to exit a potential legal tangle, he merely left it up to “the judicial authorities to decide.”

The central reason for not cooperating with the ICC on this point centres on the play of Articles 27 and 98 of the Rome Statute. The former makes it clear that, “Immunities or special procedural rules which may attach to the official capacity of a person […] shall not bar the Court from exercising its jurisdiction.” The provisions of the latter prevent the Court from proceeding with a request for surrender or assistance requiring the requested State “to act inconsistently with its obligations under international law with respect to the State or diplomatic immunity of a person or property of a third State” unless cooperation had been obtained from that third state for a waiver of the immunity.

A statement from France’s Foreign Minister merely served to show that the warrant’s effectualness should be gauged by whether Israel was a member of the Rome Statute, an interpretation as disingenuous as it was inaccurate. “A state cannot be held to act in a way that is incompatible with its obligations in terms of international law with regards to immunities granted to states which are not party to the ICC.” It followed that Netanyahu and his ministers had the necessary immunities “and must be taken into consideration should the ICC ask us to arrest them and hand them over.”

Rather shoddy lip service to a proud legal and political tradition supposedly shared by Israel and France follows. Both shared a “long-standing friendship”. Both were “democracies committed to the rule of law”. Both showed “respect for a professional and independent justice system.” These were remarkable observations, given the provisional measures and opinions issued by the International Court of Justice about Israel’s operations in the Gaza Strip and, more broadly, the Occupied Territories.

These include the genuine risk that genocide is taking place in Gaza (the case begun by South Africa is ongoing), the deprivation of necessities, instances of famine and starvation, and the illegal status of the settlements that involve laws and practices of dispossession and separation constituting racial discrimination and apartheid. And what are we to make of Netanyahu’s authoritarian attack on Israel’s judicial system itself, intended to give more free rein to executive power?

The French approach waters down the effect of the warrants by effectively rejecting ICC jurisdiction over Israel’s officials and commanders, despite the court’s own finding that it had jurisdiction by virtue of Israel’s operations on Palestinian territory and the accession to the Rome Treaty by the Palestinians. This did not impress the International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH) and its French member organisation, the Ligue des droits de l’Homme (LDH), which emphasised the importance of Article 27. Suspicion about the effectiveness of international law, according to Nathalie Tehio, President of the LDH, “dangerously undermines it at a time when it is urgently needed.”

Relevantly, Tehio noted that no arguments of any equivalent immunity had ever been raised regarding the ICC warrant for Russian President Vladimir Putin, despite Russia not being a party to the Rome Statute. This revealed a “double standard” that damaged France’s reputation, “particularly in relation to the countries of the South.”

Other countries in the European Union are also flirting with the idea that arresting Netanyahu would simply not be advisable, adopting various slippery arguments. Italy’s Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani rather missed the point in suggesting that the warrant was not feasible as the Israeli PM would “never go to a country where he can be arrested.” (His colleague, Defence Minister Guido Crosetto, disagreed.) With this muddled reading of international justice, Tajani went on to declare that arresting Netanyahu was “unfeasible, at least as long as he is prime minister.” A closer reading of the Rome Statute would have put Tajani’s dim doubts to rest.

The issue of executing warrants for high-ranking leaders and commanders accused of violating international humanitarian law comes down to sometimes tawdry political calculation over diligent legal observance. France has merely confirmed this state of affairs, following previous approaches taken by Mongolia (towards Putin) and South Africa (towards Omar al-Bashir). Having been one of the key negotiating parties behind the fragile ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah that commenced on November 27, Emmanuel Macron and his diplomatic team will not miss out on posterity’s calling. As the ministry statement promises, “France intends to continue to work in close collaboration with Prime Minister Netanyahu and other Israeli authorities to achieve peace and security in the Middle East.”

Be careful who you condemn and ostracise. They just might be supplying you with a special need. While the United States security establishment deems Russia the devil incarnate helped along by aspiring, mischief–making China, that devil continues supplying the US energy market with enriched uranium.

This dependency has irked the self-sufficiency patriots in Washington, especially those keen to break Russia’s firm hold in this field. That, more than any bleeding-heart sentimentality for Ukrainian suffering at the hands of the Russian Army, has taken precedence. For that reason, US lawmakers sought a ban on Russian uranium that would come into effect by January 1, 2028, by which time domestic uranium enrichment and conversion is meant to have reached sustainable levels.

The May 2024 Prohibiting Russian Uranium Imports Act, signed by President Joe Biden as law H.R.1042, specifically bans unirradiated low-enriched uranium produced in Russia or by any Russian entity from being imported into the US. It also bars the importation of unirradiated low-enriched uranium that has been swapped for the banned uranium or otherwise obtained in circumstances designed to bypass the restrictions.

At the time, Secretary of Energy Jennifer M. Granholm struck a note of hollering triumphalism. “Our nation’s clean energy future will not rely on Russian imports,” she declared. “We are making investments to build out a secure nuclear fuel supply chain here in the United States. That means American jobs supporting the Biden-Harris Administration’s commitment to a clean, safe, and secure energy economy.”

This does not get away from current circumstances, which see Russia’s provision of some 27% of enrichment service purchases for US utilities. The Russian state-owned company Rosatom is alone responsible for arranging imports of low-enriched uranium into the US market at some 3 million SWU (Separative Work Units) annually. Alexander Uranov, who heads the Russian analytical service Atominfo Center, puts this figure into perspective: that amount would be the equivalent of the annual uranium consumption rate of 20 large reactors.

Given this reliance, some legroom has been given to those in the industry by means of import waivers. H.R.1042 grants the Department of Energy the power to waive the ban in cases where there is no alternative viable source of low-enriched uranium available to enable the continued operation of a nuclear reactor or US nuclear energy company and in cases where importing the uranium would be in the national interest.

The utility Constellation, which is the largest operator of US nuclear reactors, along with the US enrichment trader, Centrus, have received waivers. The latter also has on its book of supply, the Russian state-owned company Tenex, its largest provider of low-enriched uranium as part of a 2011 contract.

No doubt knowing such a state of play, Moscow announced this month that it would temporarily ban the export of low-enriched uranium to the US as an amendment to Government Decree No 313 (March 9, 2022). The decree covers imports “to the United States or under foreign trade contracts concluded with persons registered in the jurisdiction of the United States.”

According to the Russian government, such a decision was made “on the instructions of the President in response to the restriction imposed by the United States for 2024-2027, and from 2028 – a ban on the import of Russian uranium products.” Vladimir Putin had accordingly given instructions in September “to analyse the possibility of restricting supplies to foreign markets of strategic raw materials.” The Russian state nuclear corporation Rosatom confirmed that the ban was a “tit-for-tat response to actions of the US authorities” and would not affect the delivery of Russian uranium to other countries.

In a Russian government post on Telegram, the ban is qualified. To make matters less severe, there will be, for instance, one-time licenses issued by the Russian Federal Service for Technical and Export Control. This is of cold comfort to the likes of Centrus, given that most of its revenue is derived from importing the enriched uranium before then reselling it. On being notified by Tenex that its general license to export the uranium to the US had been rescinded, the scramble was on to seek a specific export license for remaining shipments in 2024 and those scheduled to take place in 2025.

In a filing with the US Securities and Exchange Commission, Centrus warned that any failure by Tenex “to secure export licences for our pending or future orders […] would affect our ability to meet our delivery obligations to our customers and would have a material adverse effect on our business, results in operations, and competitive position.” While Tenex had contacted Centrus of its plans to secure the required export licenses in a timely manner, a sense of pessimism was hard to dispel as “there is no certainty whether such licenses will be issued by the Russian authorities and if issued, whether they will be issued in a timely manner.” The sheer, sweet irony of it all.

The slow, often grinding machinery of international law has just received a push along with the issuing of three arrest warrants by the International Criminal Court. They are for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel’s former defence minister, Yoav Gallant, and, rather incongruously, Hamas figure Mohammed Deif. The last issue is somewhat odd given claims by Israel that he was killed in an airstrike in July, though Hamas has never confirmed nor denied the fate of the man also known as Mohammed Diab Ibrahim Al-Masri.

The issue of the warrants was the culmination of a request on May 20 by the ICC prosecutor to a Pre-Trial Chamber of the court to issue arrest warrants for Netanyahu, Gallant, and three senior Hamas officials. Two have been withdrawn, given the confirmed killings of both Yahya Sinwar and Ismail Haniyeh.

On November 21, the three-judge panel of Pre-Trial Chamber I unanimously rejected Israel’s assertion that the ICC lacked jurisdiction over the Situation in the State of Palestine in general and over Israeli nationals more specifically, “as the Court can exercise its jurisdiction on the basis of the territorial jurisdiction of Palestine.” The Chamber also rejected Israel’s request that the Prosecution provide a new notification of an initiation of investigation into its authorities under the ICC Statute, given that the parameters of the investigation had not essentially changed. Nor had Israel pursued a request for deferral of the investigation when given the chance in 2021.

The arrest warrants, issued in accordance with the law of international armed conflict, remain the most telling aspect of the determinations. Despite being classified as “secret”, the Chamber deemed it important to release some degree of detail on what they entail. Accordingly, it found reasonable grounds to believe that Netanyahu and Gallant bore criminal responsibility as “co-perpetrators for committing the acts jointly with others: the war crime of starvation as a method of warfare; and the crimes against humanity of murder, persecution, and other inhumane acts”. There were also reasonable grounds to believe that both figures bore “criminal responsibility as civilian superiors for the war crime of intentionally directing an attack against the civilian population.”

The ghoulish picture of alleged conduct is sketched with chilling detail. The alleged crimes against humanity against the civilian population in Gaza were deemed to be widespread and systematic. It was reasonable to believe that Netanyahu and Gallant had, with intent and knowledge, deprived the population of Gaza of such necessities to survival as food, water, medicine, medical supplies, fuel and electricity “from at least” October 8, 2023 to May 20, 2024. This finding was easy to reach, largely because humanitarian aid had been impeded and restricted without evident military necessity or justification under international humanitarian law. When decisions to allow or increase humanitarian aid into Gaza were made, these were conditional.

The warrant for Deif, as chief commander of the military wing of Hamas (the al-Qassam Brigades) was issued because the chamber found “reasonable grounds” to believe he had allegedly been responsible for various crimes against humanity (murder, extermination, torture, rape and other forms of sexual violence) and traditional war crimes. It remains to be seen whether that can be executed appropriately, given the likelihood that Deif is no longer alive.

International law remains a curious creature, one of mixed shape and uneven maturity. Being based on the mutual, grudging acknowledgment of conventions between countries, its success, or failure, depends on mutual observance. ICC warrants to arrest international figures have been issued with varying results, with signatory states of the Rome Statute making their own decisions whether to execute them. Political interests can rear a nasty head, blowing off legally minded types keen to see judicial proceedings pursued by member states.

When an ICC warrant was issued against Russian President Vladimir Putin in March 2023 over the alleged directing of attacks on civilians in Ukraine and the unlawful deportation and transfer of Ukrainian children to the Russian Federation, the spectacle of such a figure being hauled off to The Hague was simply too much for countries keen to engage with the Kremlin. Putin, for instance, was assured by Mongolia on a state visit this year that he would not be arrested, despite the country being a party to the ICC.

More caution was exercised by Putin regarding the BRICS meeting in Johannesburg in 2023, probably due to such experiences as those of former Sudanese president, Omar Al-Bashir. Despite being the subject of ICC arrest warrants in 2009 and 2010, the defiant leader, wanted for a string of alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity against civilians in Darfur, tested the waters by visiting South Africa in 2015 for an African Union summit. His presence, however, interested the judicial authorities, who ordered him to stay in South Africa while consideration was given to his potential arrest.

Bashir’s exit was prompt, leading to a ruling the following year by the South African Court of Appeal that the failure by the authorities to arrest him was unlawful. A Pre-Trial Chamber of the ICC also found that the warrant should have been executed as part of South Africa’s obligations, and the Sudanese leader could not rightly have claimed immunity from arrest during his visit.

The warrants against the Israeli figures will have some practical effects. Gallant and Netanyahu will think twice before travelling to member states of the Rome Statute, though such states will naturally reach their own decisions on the issue. But while it is hard to see these men being carted off to proceedings in The Hague bar exceptional circumstances, the warrants have provided a fillip for civil society groups in Israel.

The indomitable efforts of the non-profit B’Tselem organisation called the ICC efforts “a chance for us, Israelis, to realize what we should have understood long ago: that upholding a regime of supremacy, violence and oppression necessarily involves crimes and severe violation of human rights.” Unfortunately for the starving and dying in Gaza, the pity of war will not, at least at this time, halt before any stern judicial eye, especially one cast from an international court.

The Australian government is being run ragged in various quarters. When ragged, such a beast is bound to seek a distraction. And what better than finding a vulnerable group, preferably children, to feel outraged and noble about?

The Albanese government, armed such problematic instruments as South Australia’s Children (Social Media Safety) Bill 2024, which will fine social media companies refusing to exclude children under the age of 14 from using their platforms, and a report by former High Court Chief Justice Robert French on the feasibility of such a move, is confident of restricting the use of social media by children across the country by imposing an age limit.

On November 21, the government boastfully declared in a media release that it had officially “introduced world-leading legislation to enforce a minimum age of 16 years for social media.” The proposed legislation, known as the Online Safety Amendment (Social Media Minimum Age) Bill 2024, is supposedly going to “deliver greater protections for young Australians during critical stages of their development.”

The proposed legislation made something of an international splash. NBC News, for instance, called the bill “one of the toughest in the world”, failing to note its absence of muscle. To that end, it remains thin on detail.

These laws constitute yet another effort to concentrate power and responsibilities best held by the citizenry in the hands of a bureaucratic-political class governed by paranoia and procedure. They are also intended to place the onus on social media platforms to place restrictions upon those under 16 years of age from having accounts.

The government openly admits as much, seemingly treating parents as irresponsible and weak (their consent in this is irrelevant), and children as permanently threatened by spoliation. “The law places the onus on social media platforms – not parents or young people – to take reasonable steps to ensure these protections are in place.” If the platforms do not comply, they risk fines of up to A$49.5 million.

As for the contentious matter of privacy, the prime minister and his communications minister are adamant. “It will contain robust privacy provisions, including requiring the platforms to ring fence and destroy any information collected to safeguard the personal information of all Australians.”

The drafters of the bill have also taken liberties on what is deemed appropriate to access. As the media release mentions, Australia’s youth will still “have continued access to messaging and online gaming, as well as access to services which are health and education related, like Headspace, Kids Helpline, and Google Classroom, and YouTube.”

This daft regime is based on the premise it will survive circumvention. Children, through guile and instinctive perseverance, will always find a way to access forbidden fruit. Indeed, as the Digital Industry Group Inc says, this “20th Century response to 21st Century challenges” may well steer children into “dangerous, unregulated parts of the internet.”

In May, documents uncovered under Freedom of Information by Guardian Australia identified that government wonks in the communications department were wondering if such a scheme was even viable. A document casting a sceptical eye over the use of age assurance technology was unequivocal: “No countries have implemented an age verification mandate without issue.”

Legal challenges have been launched in France and Germany against such measures. Circumvention has become a feature in various US states doing the same, using Virtual Private Networks (VPNs).

While this proposed legislation will prove ineffectual in achieving its intended purpose – here, protecting the prelapsarian state of childhood from ruin at the hands of wicked digital platforms – it will also leave the apparatus of hefty regulation. One can hardly take remarks coming from the absurdly named office of the eSafety Commissioner, currently occupied by the authoritarian-minded Julie Inman Grant, seriously in stating that “regulators like eSafety have to be nimble.” Restrictions, prohibitions, bans and censorship regimes are, in their implementation, never nimble.

For all that, even Inman Grant has reservations about some of the government’s assumptions, notably on the alleged link between social media and mental harm. The evidence for such a claim, she told BBC Radio 5 Live, “is not settled at all”. Indeed, certain vulnerable groups – she mentions LGBTQ+ and First Nations cohorts in particular – “feel more themselves online than they do in the real world.” Why not, she suggests, teach children to use online platforms more safely? Children, she analogises, should be taught how to swim, rather than being banned from swimming itself. Instruct the young to swim; don’t ringfence the sea.

Rather appositely, Lucas Lane, at 15 something of an entrepreneur selling boys nail polish via the online business Glossy Boys, told the BBC that the proposed ban “destroys… my friendships and the ability to make people feel seen.”

Already holed without even getting out of port, this bill will serve another, insidious purpose. While easily dismissed as having a stunted moral conscience, Elon Musk, who owns X Corp, is hard to fault in having certain suspicions about these draft rules. “Seems like a backdoor way to control access to the internet by all Australians,” he wrote to a post from Albanese. One, unfortunately, among several.

COP29 was always going to be memorable, for no other reason than the hosting country, Azerbaijan, is a petrostate indifferent to the issue of emissions and scornful of ecological preachers. It has seen its natural gas supply grow by 128% between 2000 and 2021. Between 2006 and 2021, gas exports rose by a monumental 29,290%. A dizzying 95% of the country’s exports are made up of oil and gas, with much of its wealth failing to trickle down to the rest of the populace.

The broadly described West, as stated by President Ilham Aliyev in his opening address to the Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, was in no position to be lecturing his country about cutting back on the use of fossil fuels. They were, he grandly claimed, “a gift from God”. In this, he should have surprised no one. In April 2024, he declared that, as a leader of a country “which is rich in fossil fuels, of course, we will defend the right of these countries to continue investments and to continue production.”

A few days later, Aliyev played the other side of the climate change divide, suggesting at a meeting with island leaders that France and the Netherlands had been responsible for “brutally” suppressing the “voices” of communities in such overseas territories as Mayotte and Curaçao concerned with climate change. (Aliyev himself is no stranger to suppressing, with dedicated brutality, voices of dissent within his own country.) This proved too much for France’s Ecological Transition Minister, Agnès Pannier-Runacher, who cancelled her planned attendance to the summit while attacking Baku for “instrumentalising the fight against climate change for its undignified personal agenda.”

On the second day of the summit, the UN Secretary-General, Antonio Guterres, tried to turn the attention of delegates to the urgent matter at hand. “The sound you hear is the ticking clock – we are in the final countdown to limit global temperature rise to 1.5°C, and time is not on our side.” Others, however, heard the sound of money changing hands, with the fossil fuel industry lurking, fangs and pens at the ready, presided over by the good offices of a petrostate.

In the background lie assessments of gloomy inevitability. The Climate Change Tracker’s November 2024 briefing notes this year was one characterised by “minimal progress, with almost no new national climate change targets (NDCs) or net zero pledges even though government have agreed to (urgently) strengthen their 2030 targets and to align them with the 1.5°C goal of the Paris Agreement.”

As easy as it is to rage against the opportunistic Aliyev, who crudely blends environmentalism with ethnic cleansing, few attending the summit in Baku come with clean hands. As with previous COP events, Baku offers another enormous event of emitters and emission, featuring tens of thousands of officials, advisors and minders bloviating in conference. That said, the 67,000 registrants at this conference is somewhat lower compared with the 83,000 who descended on Dubai at COP28.

The plane tracking website FlightRadar24 noted that 65 private jets landed in the Azerbaijani capital prior to the summit, prompting Alethea Warrington, the head of energy, aviation and heat at Possible, a climate action charity, to tut with heavy disapproval: “Travelling by private jet is a horrendous waste of the world’s scarce remaining carbon budget, with each journey producing more emissions in a few hours than the average person around the world emits in an entire year.”

COP29 is also another opportunity to strike deals that have little to do with reducing emissions and everything to do with advancing the interests of lobby groups and companies in the energy market, much of it of a fossil fuel nature. In the spirit of Dubai, COP29 is set to follow in the footsteps of the wily Sultan Ahmed Al Jaber, who chaired COP28 in Dubai. Prior to the arrival of the chatterati of climate change last year, the Sultan was shown in leaked briefing documents to the BBC and the Centre for Climate Reporting (CCR) to be an avid enthusiast for advancing the business of the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (Adnoc). It was hard to avoid the glaring fact that Al Jaber is also the CEO of Adnoc.

The documents in question involve over 150 pages of briefings prepared by the COP28 team for meetings with Jaber and various interested parties held between July and October this year. They point to plans to raise matters of commercial interest with as many as 30 countries. The CCR confirms “that on at least one occasion a nation followed up on commercial discussions brought up in a meeting with Al Jaber; a source with knowledge of discussions also told CCR that Adnoc’s business interests were allegedly raised during a meeting with another country.”

The COP29 chairman, Samir Nuriyev, had already put out feelers as early as March this year that a “fair approach” was needed when approaching countries abundant with oil and natural gas, notably in light of their purported environmental policies. He went so far as to argue that Azerbaijan was an ideal interlocutor between the Global South and Global North. His colleague and chief executive of the COP29 team, Elnur Soltanov, showed exactly how that process would work in a secret recording ahead of the conference in which he discusses “investment opportunities” in the state oil and gas company with a person posing as a potential investor. (The person in question purported to be representing a fictitious Hong Kong investment firm with a sharp line in energy.) “We have a lot of gas fields that are to be developed,” Soltanov insists. “We will have a certain amount of oil and gas being produced, perhaps forever.”

In many ways, the Baku gathering has all the hallmarks of a criminal syndicate meeting, held under more open conditions. Fair play, then, to the Azerbaijani hosts for working out the climate change racket, taking the lead from Dubai last year. Aliyev and company noted months in advance that this was less a case of being a theatre of the absurd than a forum for business. And so, it is proving to be.

Two more United Nations committee resolutions. Both concerning the conduct of Israel past and current. While disease, hunger and death continue to stalk the Gaza Strip, and the West Bank remains under the thick thumb of occupation, deliberations in foreign fora continue to take place about how to address this hideous state of affairs. While these international matters can often seem like insipid gestures marked by ineffectual chatter, they are increasingly bulking a file that is making Israel more isolated than ever. And this is not an isolation of virtue or admiration.

On November 13, the Second Committee (Economic and Financial) of the UN approved two resolutions. The first focused on requesting that Israel assume responsibility for prompt and adequate compensation to Lebanon and any associated countries, including Syria, affected by an oil slick on their shores arising from the destruction of storage tanks near the Lebanese Jiyah electric power plant. The strike took place in July 2006 during Israel’s previous war against Hezbollah, resulting in, to quote the words of Lebanon’s thenEnvironment Ministry director general Berge Hatjian, “a catastrophe of the highest order for a country as small as Lebanon”. According to Lebanon’s UN representative, the damage arising from the oil spill had hampered the country’s efforts to pursue the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) by 2030.

Israel’s representative gruffly rejected the premise of the resolution, which received 160 votes in its favour, citing the usual argument that it has been unfairly targeted. Other current adversaries – here, the Houthis, who had been attacking ships in international waters – had been left unscrutinised by the committee. The issue of environmental damage had been appropriated “as a political weapon against Israel”.

The second resolution, introduced by the Ugandan representative, was of particular interest to the Palestinians. Entitled “Permanent sovereignty of the Palestinian people in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and of the Arab population in the occupied Syrian Golan over their natural resources”, it expressed pointed concerns about Israel’s continued efforts to exercise, with brute force, control over the territories. There was concern for “the exploitation by Israel, the occupying Power, of the natural resources of the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and other Arab territories occupied by Israel since 1967”. Ditto the “extensive destruction by Israel […] of agricultural land and orchards in the Occupied Territory” and “widespread destruction” inflicted upon “vital infrastructure, including water pipelines, sewage networks and electricity networks” in those territories.

Concerns also abounded about unexploded ordnance, a situation that despoiled the environment while hampering reconstruction, and the “chronic energy shortage in the Gaza Strip and its detrimental impact on the operation of water and sanitation facilities”. The Israeli settlements come in for special mention, given their “detrimental impact on Palestinian and other Arab natural resources, especially as a result of the confiscation of land and the forced diversion of water resources, including the destruction of orchards and crops and the seizure of the water wells by Israeli settlers, and the dire socioeconomic consequences in this regard.”

There are also stern remarks about needing to respect and preserve “the territory unity, contiguity and integrity of all Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem”, a situation increasingly compromised by the rampant, unchecked zealotry of thuggish Israeli settlers, emboldened by lawmakers and authorities.

The vote on this occasion – 158 in favour – was unusual for featuring a number of countries that would normally be more guarded in adding their names, notably in the context of Palestinian sovereignty. Their mantra is that backing an initiative openly favouring Palestinian self-determination over any specific subject would do little to advance the broader goals of the peace process in the absence of Israeli participation.

Australia, for instance, backed the resolution, despite opposition from the United States and Canada. It marked the first time the country had favoured a “permanent sovereignty” resolution since being introduced in a resolution. This was done despite disappointment by the Australian delegation that the resolution made no reference to other participants in the conflict such as Hezbollah. A spokesperson for Australian Foreign Affairs Minister Penny Wong stated that the vote reflected international concerns about Israel’s “ongoing settlement activity, land dispossession, demolitions and settler violence against Palestinians”. Such conduct undermined “stability and prospects for a two-state solution.”

As for Israel’s firmest sponsor in arms, inexplicable good will and dubious legal padding, the words “Palestinian” and “sovereignty” continued to grate. The fiction of equality and parity between Israel and the Palestinians, a device long used to snuff out the independent aspirations of the latter, had to be maintained.

In remarks made by Nicholas Koval of the US Mission to the UN, it was clear that Washington was “disappointed that this body has again taken up this unbalanced resolution that is unfairly critical of Israel, demonstrating a clear and persistent institutional bias directed against one member state.” The resolution, in its “one-sided” way, would not advance peace. “Not when they ignore the facts on the ground.”

While Koval is not wrong that the claimed facts in these resolutions are often matters of conceit, illusion and even omission, the events unfolding since October last year have shown, in their biblical ferocity, that the Palestinians are no longer merely subjects of derision by the Israeli state. They are to be subjugated, preferably by some international authority that will guard against any future claims to autonomy. Their vetted leaders are to be treated as amenable collaborators, happy to yield territory that Israel has no right to.

Eventually, it is hoped by the likes of National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, that the Palestinian problem will vanish before forcible annexation, erasure and eviction. At the very least, resolutions such as those passed on November 14 provide some record of resistance, however seemingly remote, against the historical amnesia that governs Israeli Palestinian relations.

It is hard to credit one of the least impressive Secretary of States, the United States has ever produced with any merit other than being a plasterwork that, from time to time, moved with caution on the world stage for fear of cracking. On the stage, Antony Blinken’s brittle performances have been nothing short of unimpressive, notably in pursuing such projects comically titled “Peace in the Middle East.” Each time he has ventured to various regions of the world, the combatants seem keener than ever to continue taking up arms or indulging in slaughter.

A sense of Blinken’s detachment from the world can be gathered from his Foreign Affairs piece published on October 1, intended as something of a report on the diplomatic achievements of the Biden administration. It starts with the sermonising treacle that is all a bit much – the naughty states on the world stage, albeit small in number (Russia, Iran, North Korea and China), “determined to alter the foundational principles of the international system.”

The Biden administration had, in response, “pursued a strategy of renewal, pairing historic investments in competitiveness at home with an intensive diplomatic campaign to revitalize partnerships abroad.” This served to counter those challengers wishing to “undermine the free, open, secure, and prosperous world that the United States and most countries seek.” Then comes the remark that should prompt readers to pinch themselves. “The Biden administration’s strategy has put the United States in a much stronger geopolitical position today than it was four years ago.”

An odd assessment for various reasons. There is the continued war in Ukraine and Washington’s refusal to encourage any meaningful talks between Kiev and Moscow, preferring, instead, the continued supply of weapons to an attritive conflict of slaughter and such acts of industrial terrorism as the attack on the Nord Stream pipeline.

There has been the relentless watering down of the “One China” understanding over the status of Taiwan, along with continued provocations against Beijing through the offensive pact of AUKUS with Australia and the UK. That particularly odious pact has served to turn Australia into a US military garrison without the consent of its citizens, an outcome sold to the dunces in Canberra as utterly necessary to arrest the rise of China. Along the way, an arms buildup in the Indo- and Asia-Pacific has been encouraged.

With such a view of the world, it’s little wonder how blind Blinken, and other members of the Biden administration, have been to Israel’s own rogue efforts at breaking and altering the international system, committing, along the way, a goodly number of atrocities that have seen it taken to the International Court of Justice by South Africa for committing alleged acts of genocide.

Through his various sojourns, the point was always clear. Israel was to be mildly rebuked, if at all, while Hamas was to be given the full chastising treatment as killers without a cause. When the barbarians revolt against their imperial governors, they are to be both feared and reviled. In June this year, for instance, Blinken stated on one of his countless missions for a non-existent peace that Hamas was “the only obstacle” to a ceasefire, a markedly jaundiced explanation given the broader programs and objects being pursued by the Israeli Defence Forces. Hamas has been accused of being absolutist in its goals, but one can hardly exempt Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu from the charge. Not for Blinken: “I think it is clear to everyone around the world, that it’s on them [Hamas] and that they will have made a choice to continue a war that they started.”

On the issue of aid to Gaza’s strangled, dying population, Blinken has been, along with his equally ineffectual colleague in the Pentagon, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin, cringingly ineffective. Their October 13 letter sent to their Israeli counterparts made mention of several demands, including the entry of some 350 aid trucks into Gaza on a daily basis, and refraining from adopting laws, now in place, banning the UN Agency for Palestinian Refugees (UNRWA). Each demand has been swatted back with a school child’s snotty petulance, and aid continues being blocked to various parts of Gaza.

On October 24, Americans for Justice in Palestine Action (AJP Action) “urgently” called on the Secretary of State “to stop wasting his time with failed diplomatic visits and to demand an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and Lebanon.” Those at AJP Action must surely have realised by now that Blinken would be utterly rudderless without those failed visits. Indeed, Osama Abu Irshaid, Executive Director of the organisation, went so far as to say that “Blinken’s diplomatic theatre is enabling Netanyahu’s war crimes.” To arm and fund Israel “while requesting a ceasefire” was a policy both “hypocritical and ineffective.” Such is the nature of that sort of theatre.

In the meantime, the tectonic plates of international relations are moving in other directions, a point that has been aided, not hindered, by the policy of this administration. Through BRICS and other satellite fora, the United States is finding itself gradually outpaced and isolated, even as it continues to hide behind the slogan of an international rules-based order it did so much to create. This is not to say that the US imperium has quite reached its terminus. If anything, the Biden administration, through the good offices of Blinken, continues to insist on its vitality. But US hegemony long left unchallenged is, most certainly, at an end.

The scene is memorable enough. November 2016. The Twin Peaks Tavern, Castro District. Men gathered, beside themselves. “It’s shocking how those people voted him in,” splutters one over a Martini. “Yes,” says a companion, bristling in anger at the election of Donald J. Trump, sex pest, dubious businessman, orange haired monster and reality television star. “Why were they ever given the vote?” History had come full circle, the claim now being that tens of millions of voters in the 2016 US presidential election should have been disenfranchised. In their mind, this bloc was to be abominated as Hillary Clinton’s designated “deplorables”, a monstrous collective needing to be pushed into the sea.

In November 2024, we see similar tremors of doubt and consternation, though the official stance, as expressed by President Joe Biden, is to “accept the choice the country made.” In the vast, noisy hinterland of social media speculation lie unproven claims that some 20 million votes have gone missing, necessitating a recount. Ditto problems with failing voting machines. In a statement of cool dismissive confidence, Jen Easterly, director of the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency, is adamant: “we have no evidence of any malicious activity that had a material impact on the security and integrity of our election infrastructure.”

2016 might have given the Democrats meditative pause as to why Trump was elected. Even more significantly, why Trump’s election was more apotheosis rather than gnarly distortion. Instead of vanishing as aberrant over the Biden years, Trumpism has come home to roost in winning, not only the Electoral College but the majority vote by convincing margins.

Much is made of Trump’s pathological campaign against the legitimacy of his loss in 2020, as well as it might. Less is made, certainly from the centre left and Democratic quarters, of the conspiratorial webbing that served to excuse an appalling electoral performance on behalf of the donkey party and their chosen candidate, Hillary Clinton. Doing so shifted any coherent analysis about loss and misjudgement to plot and the sorcery of disruption – the very sorts of things that Trump would use to such effect after 2020. Indeed, the seeds of election denialism were already sown in 2016 by the Democrats. Trump would draw on this shoddy model with vengeful enthusiasm in 2020.

In Shattered: Inside Hillary Clinton’s Doomed Campaign, journalists Jonathan Allen and Amie Parnes make the point that the Clinton team took a matter of hours to concoct “the case that the election wasn’t entirely on the up-and-up… Already, Russian hacking was the centrepiece of the argument.”

In declassified notes provided in September 2020 by the then Director of National Intelligence John Ratcliffe to the Senate Judiciary Committee, the picture of pre-emptive delegitimization becomes vivid. Clinton, in late July 2016, “had approved a campaign plan to stir a scandal against US Presidential candidate Donald Trump by tying him to Putin and the Russians’ hacking of the Democratic National Committee.” Then Central Intelligence Agency Director John Brennan “subsequently briefed President Obama and other senior national security officials on the intelligence, including the ‘alleged approval by Hillary Clinton July 26, 2016 of a proposal from one of her foreign policy advisors to vilify Donald Trump by stirring up a scandal claiming interference by Russian security services’.”

Since her loss, Clinton has been impervious to the notion that she lacked sufficient appeal in the electoral race. Trump was, she has continued to insist, never a legitimate president to begin with.

Other Democrat worthies never deviated from the narrative. The late Californian Senator Dianne Feinstein was certain in January 2017 that the change in fortunes in the Clinton camp had much to do with the announcement the previous October that the FBI would be investigating Clinton’s private email server. Typically, the issue of what was exposed was less relevant than the fact of exposure. The former was irrelevant; the latter, Russian, unpardonable, causal and fundamental.

In June 2019, former President Jimmy Carter went even further, showing that the Democrats would remain indifferent to Trump as a serious electoral phenomenon. “I think a full investigation would show that Trump didn’t actually win the election in 2016,” he stated on a panel hosted by the Carter Center at Leesburg, Virginia. “He lost the election, and he was put into office because the Russians interfered on his behalf.” This execrable nonsense was fanned, fed and nurtured by media servitors, to such a degree as to prompt Gerard Baker, currently editor-at-large for the Wall Street Journal, to remark that it was mostly “among the most disturbing, dishonest, and tendentious I’ve ever seen.”

An odd analysis in Politico by David Faris about the latest election suggests that Democrats “have the advantage of introspection” while the Republicans, after losing in 2020, “chose not to look inward and instead descended into a conspiratorial morass of denial and rage that prevented them, at least publicly, from addressing the sources of their defeat.”

Faris misses the mark in one fundamental respect. The Democrats were, fascinatingly enough, the proto-election denialists. They did not storm the Capitol in patriotic, costumed moodiness, but they did try to eliminate Trump as an electoral force. In doing so, they failed to see Trumpland take root under their noses. His stunning and conclusive return to office demands something far more substantive in response than the amateurish, foamy undergraduate rage that has become the hallmark of a distinct monomania.

It was catastrophic, cataclysmic and all destructive. It wiped out empires and aristocracies and tore through the middle class. The First World War was a conflict that should never have happened, was pursued foolishly and incestuously by the royal families of Europe and fertilised the ground for an even greater war two decades later. It produced an atmospheric solemnity of grief and loss, and a lingering, collective neurosis.

On November 11, 1918, when the guns fell silent in Europe, some 16 million had been left dead. A ceremonial ritual grew up around commemorating the fallen. So horrific were those events that a convention known as the Kellogg-Briand Pact was born, an instrument that initially began as a bilateral agreement between the United States and France to abandon war as an instrument of foreign policy. Eventually, virtually all the established states of the day signed it, heralding a most fabulous illusion, pursued even as countries began rearming.

The commemorators that tend to make an appearance on Remembrance Day often prove to be the war-makers of tomorrow. The demand that we all wear red poppies and contribute to the causes of veterans would be all the more poignant and significant were it to discourage killing, foster peace and encourage the brighter instincts of human progress. Instead, these occasions are used by the military-minded to ready the populace for the next conflict, a form of vulgar conditioning. Before his death in 2009 at the ripe age of 111 years, Harry Patch, a veteran of the Great War’s trench warfare, proposed that war was “a license to go out and murder. Why should the British government call me up and take me out to a battlefield to shoot a man I never knew, whose language I couldn’t speak?” That logic is hard to better.

The statement here is not “lest we forget” but “what should be remembered?” Corpses are only memorable if they are useful. The fallen serve as bricks and masonry for the next slaughter, engineered by war criminals, the negligent and the incompetent. They died so that you could live and prosper, or so we are told. The commemorative classes repeatedly refer to “democracy”, “freedom” and “our way of life”, a seedy way of suggesting value in sending the young to an early grave. Accordingly, so that your children should be able to live in a way befitting their standing, you must participate in the next murderous, maiming conflict.

If these commemorations served as lessons, then they should be revered, repeated and rerun with mighty fortitude. Unfortunately, those lessons are never observed. Were that to be the case, such quixotic, costly provocations as the AUKUS pact, which incites nuclear proliferation and arming for future conflict against phantom threats, would be matters of the past.

As things are, these commemorative days mark human idiocy and venality, anticipating the next bloodbath that will enlist the docile for war, leaving the planners untouched by accountability, be it in any legal or ethical sense. To this day, former Australian Prime Minister John Howard, former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, and former US President George W. Bush, remain at large for illegally invading Iraq in March 2003. It was an invasion based on a monstrous lie on Iraq’s capabilities, notably in the Weapons of Mass Destruction department, one that dismembered a state and unleashed an Islamic fundamentalist whirlwind in the Middle East.

Those in the Remembrance Day promotions business are keen to remind younger converts that the occasion is not just for previous generations. Bianca Wheeler, the new Director of Veterans SA, offers some unconvincing waffle to any unsuspecting newcomers to the creed: “Remember Day is about linking the past to the present, and then taking that and considering what it means for the future.” Wheeler, herself a former naval officer, is keen to change the conventional view of what a veteran is: not necessarily one festooned in medals from the great conflicts, but one dedicated to service. How eye-piping in sweetness.

With each November 11, there is a growing concern. The young seem increasingly estranged and disassociated from these occasions, worry those in the Remembrance Day amnesia racket. “For many young people,” ponders the Hawkesbury Post, a New South Wales paper, “Remembrance Day may seem like an event disconnected from their daily lives. After all, the wars it commemorates feel like ancient history.”

If history is but a record of agreed upon facts, then this occasion is one about agreed upon mythology. Wheeler would have you believe that a historical exercise is at play, hence the following platitude: “You can’t know where to go in the future without knowing where you come from.”

The onus should be on the war maker, the arms manufacturer and merchants of death, to explain why their nasty handiwork needs to be remembered. By focusing on the dead, we can ignore the reasons for their deployment, the circumstances they found themselves in countries they barely knew existed, falling for causes they could hardly articulate. The statues, monuments and honour boards always mention the heroically fallen; never do they mention those who signed their death warrants to guarantee the Grim Reaper his fill.

As things stand, the armaments complex has far better things to do than turning up at war memorials. Killing fellow human beings is a frightfully pressing business, and there is always ruddy cash to be made from the quarry of the eternally gullible.

Japan’s new prime minister, Shigeru Ishiba, is stirring the pot – notably on regional security matters. He has proposed something that has done more than raise a few eyebrows in the foreign and defence ministries of several countries. An Asian version of NATO, he has suggested, was an idea worth considering, notably given China’s ambitions in the region. “The creation of an Asian version of NATO is essential to deter China by its Western allies,” he revealed to the Washington-based Hudson Institute in September.

During his campaign for office, Ishiba had mooted changes to the deployment arrangements of the Japan Self-Defence Forces and the need to move beyond the purely bilateral approach to regional security anchored by US agreements with various countries, be it with Japan, South Korea, the Philippines and others.

Ishiba’s suggested changes to Japan’s self-defence posture builds on a cabinet decision made during the Abe administration to reinterpret the country’s constitution to permit exercising the right of collective self-defence. It was a problematic move, given the pacifist nature of a text that renounces the use of force in the resolution of international disputes.

In September 2015, then Prime Minister Shinzo Abe convinced the Diet to pass a package of security bills known as the Legislation for Peace and Security, thereby allowing Japan to participate in limited forms of collective self-defence. Opponents warned, understandably, that the legislation paved the way for Japan to attack a country in concert with another on the premise of collective self-defence, despite not itself being directly attacked. They have every reason to be even more worried given Ishiba’s recent meditations.

The intention to broaden the remit of how Japan’s armed forces are deployed is also a reminder to the United States that Tokyo is no longer interested in playing a subordinate role in its alliance with Washington. “The current Japan-US security treaty,” complains Ishiba, “is structured so that the US is obligated to ‘defend’ Japan, and Japan is obligated to ‘provide bases’ to the US.” He suggests “expanding the scope of joint management of US bases in Japan,” a move that would reduce Washington’s burden, and revising the Japan-US Security Treaty and Status of Forces Agreement to permit the stationing of Japanese forces on Guam.

What makes his suggestions disconcerting is not merely the establishment of a power bloc bound by the glue of collective self-defence – an arrangement that has much to do with defence as a growling provocation. Ishiba is intent on being even more provocative in suggesting that any such “Asian version of NATO must also specifically consider America’s sharing of nuclear weapons or the introduction of nuclear weapons into the region.”

Were such a move taken, it would, at least from a Japanese perspective, fly in the face of a doctrine in place since December 1967, when Prime Minister Eisaku Sato articulated the three non-nuclear principles of “not possessing, not producing and not permitting the introduction of nuclear weapons, in line with Japan’s Peace Constitution.”

As with so many in the business of preaching about international security, false paradigms and analysis are offered from the pulpit. The Japanese PM, much like neoconservative hawks in Washington and Canberra, prove incapable of seeing conflict in generic, transferrable terms. “Ukraine today is Asia tomorrow,” he falsely reasons. “Replacing Russia with China and Ukraine and Taiwan, the absence of a collective self-defense system like NATO in Asia means that wars are likely to break out because there is no obligation for mutual defense.” Ergo, he reasons, the need for an Asian version of NATO.

Ishiba’s suggestions have yet to gather momentum. Daniel Kritenbrink, US assistant secretary of state for East Asia and the Pacific, told a forum on Indo-Pacific security at the Stimson Center in September that he preferred the current “latticework” approach to US regional alliances featuring, for instance, the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue involving Japan, India and Australia, and AUKUS, featuring Australia and the UK. “It’s too early to talk about collective security in that context, and [the creation of] more formal institutions.” It was far better to focus on “investing in the region’s existing formal architecture and continuing to build this network of formal and information relationships.”

Kritenbrink’s analysis hardly gets away from the suspicion that the “latticework” theory of US security in the Indo-Pacific is but a form of NATO in embryo. As Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi said with tartness in 2022, “The real goal for the [US] Indo-Pacific strategy is to establish an Indo-Pacific version of NATO. These perverse actions run counter to common aspirations of the region and are doomed to fail.”

From New Delhi, the view towards such an alliance is not a glowing one. On October 1, at an event held by Washington’s Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Indian Foreign Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar proved dismissive of any NATO replication in Asia. “We don’t have that kind of strategic architecture in mind.” India had “a different history and different way of approaching” its security considerations.

With the return of Donald Trump to the White House, the collective defence hawks so keen on adding kindling to conflict will have their teeth chattering. Ishiba’s ideas may well have to be put back into cold storage – at least in the interim. And as luck would have it, his own prime ministerial tenure already looks threatened.

The BHP Group, as with other mining giants, has much explaining to do in the way it has approached the environment. It has become a master of the greenwashing experiment, an adept promoter of sham environmental responsibility (take, for instance, its practice of merely selling its oil and gas business to Woodside Petroleum in 2021 rather than retiring them); and, it transpired recently, a ruthless negotiator and litigant over contentious claims.

After nine years of negotiations and attritive legal proceedings, BHP has reached a settlementwith Brazilian authorities regarding its role in the Fundão tailings dam collapse in Mariana, Minas Gerais. Taking place on November 5, 2015, the results were catastrophic to human life and nature, leaving 19 people dead and spilling toxic sludge over some 700 kilometres of land. The Samarco-owned facility, which held something like 26,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools’ worth of tailings (50 million cubic metres), was a joint venture between BHP and Vale. In addition to killing 14 company employees and five residents, the released tailings rapidly reached Bento Rodrigues, and part of the communities of Paracatu de Baixoand Gesteira and, for good measure, flooded the centre of the town of Barra Longa.

The catastrophe merely compounded, turning the Rio Doce Basin a filthy brown and affecting dozens of municipalities and hundreds of communities reliant on the Rio Doce for drinking water. The pollution also destroyed wildlife, fishing stocks, farmland and churches, and affected various Indigenous communities, including the Krenak, Tupiniquim, Guaranisand Quilombola.

In response to the collapse, BHP, Vale and Samarco established the Renova Foundation, intended to compensate individuals and small businesses for losses and ostensibly ameliorating environmental impacts. This was hardly a concession on BHP’s part of guilt. “Conveniently,” write the authors caustically in a Nature Conservation study on the disaster in August, “the company creates its foundation to repair its own damages. Through the dense patchwork of multiple lawsuits filed in Brazil, Australia, the United States and the United Kingdom, BHP has repeatedly denied any central culpability in the collapse.

Compensation payments to victims from the fund, to date, have also been scandalously tardy. The BHP 2024 annual report notes that R$17.5 billion (US$3.5 billion) had been paid to 430,000 people as of June 30 this year, with R$12.2 billion (US$2.5 billion) forked out to110,000 people under the Novel system, or “court mandated simplified indemnity system.” The company praises this arrangement as one that enabled “informal workers” (cart drivers, sand miners, artisanal miners and street vendors) to receive compensation despite having “difficulty proving the damages they suffered.”

What BHP fails to underscore is that those under the Novel system had to wait for seven years after the dam collapse to receive any cash, with 40% of those only paid in the last two years. Of the 430,000, some 290,000 received a pitiful R$1050 each for a disruption to their water supply for seven to 10 days following the dam collapse. And just to add to the nastiness of it all, the replacement housing for victims has been of questionable quality. Little wonder that Thatiele Monic, president of the Vila Santa Efigênia and AdjacênciasQuilombola Association, is suspicious of the efforts of the Renova Foundation.

The UK leg of proceedings, commenced in November 2018, is positively Dickensian in legal gyrations. It began as a High Court lawsuit against BHP involving 240,000 plaintiffs, including Brazilian municipalities and Krenak indigenous communities. In November 2020, the court dismissed the lawsuit, with Justice Turner making a memorable remark: “The task facing the managing judge in England would, I predict, be akin to trying to build a house of cards in a wind tunnel.” Various impediments, not least the size and scale of the claims,including “jurisdictional cross-contamination” and an abuse of process, were cited.

In March 2021, the Court of Appeal affirmed the decision, arguing that the plaintiffs were already seeking legal redress in Brazil. In July, the London court of appeal reversed the decision, granting permission to appeal on grounds that the case had a “real prospect of success.” To not do so would risk real injustice. In July 2022, a Court of Appeal ruled that English courts could hear the case, noting that, “The vast majority of claimants who have recovered damages have only received very modest sums in respect of moral damages for interruption to their water supply.” An April 2024 date was set for the commencement of trial proceedings.

In March 2023, the scale of the class action burgeoned further, with the addition of 500,000 claimants. Attempts by BHP to delay the lawsuit till mid-2025 were rejected by a London court in May 2023. On October 21 this year, the trial finally commenced. It would last all but a few days.

The settlement agreement signed on October 25 includes BHP, Vale, Samarco and some half a dozen Brazilian authorities. Of the 42 civil claims against BHP, the October 25 agreement covers the most monumental and contentious. Its value – R$170 billion (US$31.5 billion) – is deceptive. Brazilian authorities can have reason to cheer the result, as it comes close to the R$175 billion sought in civil claims in 2016. BHP’s Chief Executive Officer, Mike Henry, also seemed suspiciously satisfied, claiming that the agreement would deliver a laundry list of benefits including “expanded and additional programs for the environment and for the people, including designated funding for the health system, economic recovery, improved infrastructure and extensive compensation and income support measures, including for farmers, fisher people and Indigenous and Traditional communities.”

A sharp analysis from Tony Boyd of the Australian Financial Review, hardly a forum known for its humanitarians and bleeding hearts, offers a rather different reading of Brazilian effortsand the tactics employed by the mining giants. It was evident to Boyd “that over the past decade, BHP and Vale have outplayed the Brazilian federal government, and statements of Minas Gerais and Espírito Santo as well as the federal and state Public Prosecutors’ and Public Defenders’ Offices.”

Much of this has to do, as Boyd remarks, on the time value of money. Some 60% of the final R$100 billion settlement is payable over 20 years. Taking that time frame into account, thenominal amount comes to a net present value of R$48 billion. Using the net present value analysis also means that the R$32 billion commitment to cover the cost of removing tailings from the Rio Doce and R$30,000 compensation awards to individuals and small businesses who opt into the arrangement, is R$25 billion.

The financial burden arising from BHP’s compensatory undertakings has also been lessened by the near decade process of dispute resolution, allowing the reopening of the Samarco iron ore mine to take place in the meantime with healthy annual returns of US$750 million.

Even now, BHP’s mild description of the catastrophe is given a coolly confident assessment. The company’s website notes that since the dam breach, Samarco operates “with a strong focus on safety and sustainability.” Alleviating the use of dams has been possible because of the implementation of a “new filtration system”, while 80% of the tailings arising from the operations “are now dry stacked, with the rest deposited in a confined rocky pit.” Feeble assurance to those hundreds of thousands affected that fateful November in 2015.