Science diplomacy in the age of war

Published on May 5th , 2022

Luk Van Langenhove, Professor at the Brussels School of Governance of the Vrije Universiteit Brussel and Professorial Fellow at the United Nations University's Institute on Comparative Regional Integration Studies (UNU-CRIS)

Luc Soete, Professor and the Dean of the Brussels School of Governance. He is also a Honorary Professor of international economics at Maastricht University, The Netherlands and currently the Dean of the Institute for European Studies and Vesalius College

Eric Piaget, Visiting Research Fellow at the United Nations University's Institute on Comparative Regional Integration Studies (UNU-CRIS)

Science diplomacy has many faces. One of them is viewing scientific collaboration as a possible tool to keep dialogue lines open between states in conflict. More often, science is mobilized for diplomatic purposes or conflict resolution, as part of countries’ foreign-affairs apparatuses. The rationale is that scientists speak the same “language”, which can weave cultures together and build trust, irrespective of political animosities between governments. In this context, science diplomacy is frequently considered a soft-power tool. However, science can also be a tool in the hard-power arsenal—instead of stimulating scientific connectivity, science can be targeted by sanctions that make collaborations difficult or impossible. Sanctions could entail cutting funds for international scientific collaborations and isolating scientists in the targeted country from the rest of the world. Sanctions of this nature can, paradoxically, thus be regarded as an alternative form of science diplomacy. While the deployment of coercive power is justified in times of war, one must still ask to what extent science diplomacy should fall within the arsenal of hard-power tools. This article will address this question within the context of the current war in Ukraine.

War is an extremely polarizing phenomenon that divides nuances into black and white. As Russian forces rolled into Ukraine, the Western response was to shut Russia out of virtually all partnerships and areas of cooperation. It seemed a justified reaction to a country seeking to reintroduce war into Europe after decades of peace. But, as inexcusable as the actions of the Putin regime are, we risk being blind to the nuances of the situation as we respond. It is difficult to employ rationality in times of war, when emotion takes the driver’s seat, but it is nonetheless crucial to ask the following questions in assessing our response: Do these actions stifle the Kremlin’s war objectives? Do they help Ukraine? What is the impact on humanity at large?


Commentary


 Introduction

Science diplomacy has many faces. One of them is viewing scientific collaboration as a possible tool to keep dialogue lines open between states in conflict. More often, science is mobilized for diplomatic purposes or conflict resolution, as part of countries’ foreign-affairs apparatuses. The rationale is that scientists speak the same “language”, which can weave cultures together and build trust, irrespective of political animosities between governments. In this context, science diplomacy is frequently considered a soft-power tool. However, science can also be a tool in the hard-power arsenal—instead of stimulating scientific connectivity, science can be targeted by sanctions that make collaborations difficult or impossible. Sanctions could entail cutting funds for international scientific collaborations and isolating scientists in the targeted country from the rest of the world. Sanctions of this nature can, paradoxically, thus be regarded as an alternative form of science diplomacy. While the deployment of coercive power is justified in times of war, one must still ask to what extent science diplomacy should fall within the arsenal of hard-power tools. This article will address this question within the context of the current war in Ukraine.

 

Putin’s War

As Vladimir Putin continues his horrific war in Ukraine, the West continues its historically coordinated response: imposing all-encompassing sanctions on Russia, detaching it from the global community. This reaction is clearly warranted in a war that is unleashing immense suffering on the Ukrainian people, vilely disregarding the rules-based international system, and nudging the world perilously close to nuclear conflict. Indeed, drastic times call for drastic measures, including sanctions. However, the heat of the moment may blind us to the implications of cutting all ties with Russia. Scientific collaboration, the essence of science diplomacy, is one area that demands careful consideration before the doors are sealed shut. Obviously, there are more pressing things on the agenda, starting with ending the fighting and solving the continually unfolding humanitarian crisis. However, we should remember that one day, this conflict will be over—and thus not lose sight of the post-conflict picture. To that end, this article—while emphasizing that the devastating consequences of the war dwarf any issues of international scientific cooperation—seeks to underline a few reasons why certain collaborations with Russian scientists should not be counted as additional victims of the war.

 

Selecting the Science

The word “certain” in the sentence above is critical because there are many areas of scientific cooperation that are not justified in times of conflict. The West was certainly right to cut Russia off from scientific research equipment and goods—like microchips and machinery—that could bolster its capacity to conduct war and perform other coercive actions. Sanctions that clip the wings of Russia’s national innovation system and knowledge economy, by limiting access to goods like semiconductors and tech hardware, are also warranted under the circumstances, due to the dual-use nature of these products. However, sanctions against the Russian scientific community appear to extend much further. For example, the European Commission cut all Horizon Europe funding to Russian entities. A massive constellation of Western governments and scientific research bodies have done the same, from the European Federation of Academies of Sciences and Humanities (ALLEA) to the European Society of Cardiology, to the European University Association and the European Space Agency. There have even been calls to bar Russian academics from publishing their work in Western journals.

While this display of Western solidarity with Ukraine is important and applaudable, it is concerning that many of the halted scientific projects and publications are focused on collaborative goals that go far beyond the scope of geopolitics. From microbiology to space exploration, thousands of collaborative endeavours with Russian scientists have no discernible connection to the war. The European-Russian Centre for Cooperation in the Arctic and Sub-Arctic (EURUCAS) and the Common Action Against HIV/TB/HCV Across the Regions of Europe (CARE) are recent examples of collaborative projects attempting to tackle problems threatening the planet and its inhabitants, irrespective of conflict and national boundaries. The European Virus Archive (EVAg) is another example of Russian involvement in a global pool of knowledge directed at solving universal problems. Expelling Russian scientists from collaborative projects aimed at tackling borderless, apolitical problems will not change Putin’s mind, nor will it help Ukraine in any meaningful way. It will, however, hamper the notion of shared solutions for shared problems.

Scientific sanctions should thus take a more selective, case-by-case approach. For instance, contrary to the idea of continued space collaboration, as exists for the current Expedition 66 in the International Space Station (with a crew of four Americans, two Russians, and a German), future missions have been cancelled or postponed, such as the European Space Agency’s ExoMars mission, which was expected to take off later this year using a Russian launcher. It would be hard to justify maintaining openness with the Russian space agency (Roscomos), given its proximity to the Kremlin. For example, after Russia illegally annexed Crimea, Roscomos moved its cosmonaut training camp there. Since, at the time, NASA was using Russian Soyuz rockets to transport its astronauts to the ISS, it became a very messy political issue—sending American astronauts to train in Crimea would represent a de facto recognition of Russia’s annexation. While an unfortunate victim of this war, space exploration is a very institutionalized endeavor—and Roscomos is an institution that propagates the politics of Kremlin to the point that cooperation with that institution is inappropriate.

In the midst of a devastating war, it is hard to stomach the notion of partnership with the aggressor. Any partnership must be carefully vetted to ensure it has no possibility of aiding Russian war objectives. However, due to the array of worsening global problems, the global scientific networks for solving such problems should be, in the spirit of the EU’s open science policy, “as open as possible and as closed as necessary”. In times of war, it is understandable that the balance will tip strongly towards closed, but that shift should not entail a disregard for any possibility of openness. After all, the 17 UN Sustainable Development Goals that constitute the 2030 Agenda are all united by the final one: global partnerships for implementing the goals.

 

Science for Peace

Breaking ties with all Russian scientists also overlooks the role of science diplomacy in resolving conflicts. Some countries, like Slovenia, have said they would “suspend [scientific] cooperation until a peace agreement in Ukraine is achieved”. Given the increasing geopolitical bifurcation, even prior to the start of the war, there is no guaranteed Russian appetite for scientific cooperation with the West once peace is achieved.

Nevertheless, maintaining certain forms of scientific cooperation with Russia throughout this war could provide a channel for eventual reconciliation. Remember how, at the height of the Cold War, American and Soviet scientists worked together in fields like space exploration, vaccine development, and nuclear fusion, which helped set the mood for détente. Similarly, US and Cuban meteorologists were integral in normalizing relations between their countries in 2014, thanks to their longstanding collaboration amidst a cold political climate. Thus, severing ties with Russia’s scientific community may destroy a channel that could one day aid the peace process, especially if embassies continue to downsize diplomatic staff and former president Medvedev’s comments about the pointlessness of traditional diplomatic relations with the West come to fruition.

As Russian bombs and rockets continue to wreak havoc on Ukrainian cities, the need to keep scientific relations alive may seem a very low priority. However, traditional diplomatic channels remain open in the interest of finding a solution. If science diplomacy is the pursuit of foreign-policy objectives through science, then scientific channels should also remain as open as possible, in pursuit of mutual trust and understanding that will be vital once the war comes to an end.

 

The Scientists Themselves

Russian scientists are overwhelmingly horrified by the monstrous actions undertaken by their government, as can be seen in a letter condemning the war which, at the time of this writing, was signed by nearly 8,000 individuals in the Russian scientific community. Russian cosmonauts onboard the International Space Station dressed in the blue and yellow of the Ukrainian flag, in symbolic defiance. These scientists act in great peril to themselves, in light of the Duma’s law threatening up to 15 years in jail for those who refute the Kremlin’s “special military operation” propaganda. Cutting ties with these scientists thus leaves them in the cold, at the mercy of a regime that seems increasingly bent on crushing the freedom of inquiry that underpins their work.

For that reason, cooperation should continue as much as possible as a sign of solidarity, as long as it does not jeopardize the safety of the scientists or assist the Kremlin’s objectives. This sentiment has been echoed by many voices in the Western academic community, as seen in a letter from US and Canadian researchers, urging their governments to resist “shunning all Russian scientists for the actions of the Russian government”. They argue that doing so “would be a serious setback to a variety of Western and global interests and values”. Indeed, cutting Russian researchers out of the global science community completely, because they reside in a country ruled by a despicable dictator, disregards the Enlightenment principals of progress and toleration upon which Western societies are based.

There is also the question of the goal of Western sanctions. Sanctions seek to apply pressure on Putin and his siloviki, in hopes that they cease this horrendous war. The Russian public, which includes the scientific community, is one channel through which to deliver the intended pressure. However, the Kremlin has viciously cracked down on instances of public dissent, crippling the public’s effectiveness in applying pressure on its government. Arguably, those opposed to the war do not feel emboldened to risk humiliation, beatings, arrest, and 15 years in prison—especially in the absence of Western support for the pressure they could apply. Retaining bridges with the Russians who stand against their government helps to maintain an effective channel for exerting anti-war pressure.

The situation of Russian scientists should be closely monitored. If it becomes impossible for these scientists to conduct collaborative work, the West should open its doors to them. The noble initiative by the European Research Council (ERC) to provide jobs for Ukrainian researchers fleeing the war could be emulated for Russian researchers facing persecution for their Western ties. Although an extreme example, we should remember the lessons from Operation Paperclip, the secret operation that relocated scientists living under the Third Reich to America.

 

Conclusions

War is an extremely polarizing phenomenon that divides nuances into black and white. As Russian forces rolled into Ukraine, the Western response was to shut Russia out of virtually all partnerships and areas of cooperation. It seemed a justified reaction to a country seeking to reintroduce war into Europe after decades of peace. But, as inexcusable as the actions of the Putin regime are, we risk being blind to the nuances of the situation as we respond. It is difficult to employ rationality in times of war, when emotion takes the driver’s seat, but it is nonetheless crucial to ask the following questions in assessing our response: Do these actions stifle the Kremlin’s war objectives? Do they help Ukraine? What is the impact on humanity at large? Cutting ties with the Russian scientific community, when the respective answers to those questions are “no”, “no”, and “negative”, makes one think that scientific cooperation is just another victim of a pointless war.

A true science diplomacy approach to the situation in Ukraine and Russia is well illustrated by the statement issued by the Association of Polar Early Career Scientists (APECS). This organization expresses strong support of Ukraine and condemns Russia’s invasion. The statement also stresses that both countries are important contributors to polar research and that APECS will do everything in its power to “limit the isolation of polar early career researchers behind political borders, and encourage the continued participation of our Russian members, who may feel trapped in a situation imposed upon them”. That is indeed the way forward: we must realize that we live in the Anthropocene, and that humanity faces severe global crises that require scientific knowledge and international collaboration. Polar research is one of these areas. The current challenge for science diplomacy is to ensure that even warring countries keep working together on common threats. This can be done by supporting international cooperation at an individual level, and by ensuring support in the post-war period, to strengthen cooperation. The bonus is that scientific cooperation, even between states in conflict, can contribute to the development of mutual trust. After all, whatever the reasons for war, the reality is that all the world’s states face common problems. It is urgent that we mobilize scientists from all over the planet to combat climate change, for example.

We must stress, however, that a plea for science diplomacy in times of a hot conflict is totally different from science diplomacy during a cold war. One must tread carefully and be vigilant that science diplomacy is not interpreted as levelling the playing field. In the case of Russia and Ukraine, it should be clear that the Ukrainian scientific community needs prioritization, strong support, and special policy measures to continue its work amidst the Russian onslaught. As for the Russian scientific community, direct support is unacceptable given the cruelty of its governing regime and the reality that some members of Russia’s scientific community support the Kremlin’s war, as evidenced in a statement from the union of Russian university rectors. However, when it comes to Russian scientists themselves, sanctioning them without exception means ignoring the value of science diplomacy and its contribution to mitigating conflicts, agreeing on objective facts, and providing an antidote to “strategic war communication”. We should therefore not burn the bridges of collaboration completely. Still, a rigid set of criteria should be applied, based on two conditions: one, there should not be the slightest indication that scientists are defending or empowering the current regime; and two, the collaborative research of those scientists should be relevant to the global challenges facing humanity. It is assumed that one day, this war will end. When it does, to rebuild trust, the reconciliation process will need as many networks as possible. Meanwhile, the world will continue to require international scientific cooperation to address the daunting array of global challenges facing us all. That is the true spirit of science diplomacy: to stimulate dialogue amongst humans and to build partnerships geared towards tackling critical existential threats. Scientific progress cannot be nationalistic. It will always rely on global access. So, let's keep science as open as possible. The global challenges humanity faces need the input of all scientists, regardless of nationality and political conflicts.

The Authors

Luk Van Langenhove is a Professor at the Brussels School of Governance of the Vrije Universiteit Brussel and Professorial Fellow at the United Nations University's Institute on Comparative Regional Integration Studies (UNU-CRIS), where he serves as the coordinator for UNTRAD, the joint unit on non-traditional diplomacy. Before that he was Director of UNU-CRIS from October 2001 until September 2016. Prior to this directorship, he was Deputy Secretary-General of the Belgian Federal Ministry of Science Policy, Deputy Chief of Cabinet of the Belgian Federal Minister of Science Policy and a researcher and lecturer at the Vrije Universiteit Brussel. From 2006 until 2010 he acted as Vice-President of the International Social Sciences Council. He currently holds the positions of Academic Commissionar at the Vrije Universiteit Brussel, where he is the Academic Lead for the EUTOPIA project to create a European University. Luk Van Langenhove is also an Honorary Professorial Fellow with the University of Warwick in the ‘Politics and International Studies Department’ (PAIS). Professor Van Langenhove is a graduate of the Vrije Universiteit Brussel and received his PhD in Psychology from the same university. He has published widely on regional integration, social sciences theory, positioning theory and psychology.

Luc Soete is a Professor and the Dean of the Brussels School of Governance. He is also a Honorary Professor of international economics at Maastricht University, The Netherlands and currently the Dean of the Institute for European Studies and Vesalius College both linked to the Vrije Universiteit Brussel (VUB). He is also Vice-Chairman of the supervisory board of the Technical University Delft (TUD) and a member of CDHO (“Commissie Doelmatigheid Hoger Onderwijs”), a commission advising the Dutch Ministry for Education. In addition, he is a member of the Advisory Board of the University of Sussex Business School and of the Advisory Board of the UNU Institute on Comparative Regional Integration Studies (UNU-CRIS) in Bruges, Belgium. He is also a member of the Royal Dutch Academy of Arts and Sciences (KNAW). His research interests focus on the economics of innovation and technological change as well as the related policy and measurement issues, both at national and regional/local level as well as at European and international level.

Eric Piaget is a Visiting Research Fellow at the United Nations University's Institute on Comparative Regional Integration Studies (UNU-CRIS), where he is a member of UNTRAD, the unit on non-traditional diplomacy. His research focuses on public diplomacy, science diplomacy, the historical developments of diplomacy (with a particular focus on the Cold War), and the study of international relations conducted on the sub- and supranational levels by the ever-expanding constellation of non-state actors. Prior to academia, he has enjoyed a varied career in EU and international affairs, ranging from government, think tanks, and NGOs. Eric has a B.A. in History from the University of Sussex, a MSc in Communications from the Vrije Universiteit Brussel, and it currently working on a PhD that explores how states utilize rotating leadership structures of multilateral regional organizations for public diplomacy objectives.


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