Saturday, June 21, 2025

Let's Talk About Poverty (4)

War and poverty are not merely tragic neighbours—they are often cause and consequence of each other. Where war erupts, poverty spreads like wildfire. Bombed-out schools and hospitals mean that education halts and health deteriorates. Displacement robs people of homes, identities, and livelihoods. Markets collapse, food becomes scarce, and the value of currency crumbles under the weight of uncertainty.
But the cycle doesn’t stop there. Poverty itself can become the kindling for war. In communities where hunger simmers and jobs vanish, people grow desperate. They become susceptible to radical ideologies, willing to fight not out of conviction, but out of economic survival. Political actors exploit this, turning poverty into a weapon—arming the jobless, fuelling rebellion, masking inequality under the banner of nationalism or revolution.

History, from Sierra Leone to Syria, whispers the same warning: where there is no bread, there will soon be blood. Peace requires more than treaties—it requires dignity, stability, and the assurance that life will be worth living after the guns fall silent.

The Iran–Israel conflict, while often framed in terms of religion, ideology, or nuclear ambition, is also deeply connected to the economic wounds of war and the enduring shadow of poverty. In the broader Middle East, generations have grown up under sanctions, blockades, military occupation, and aerial bombardment. These conditions have left entire populations economically stunted and psychologically scarred.
The recent Iran–Israel conflict was sparked by a surprise Israeli airstrike on 13 June 2025, dubbed Operation Rising Lion. The attack targeted Iran’s nuclear and military facilities in Natanz and Isfahan, resulting in significant casualties, including civilians and senior officials.
Israel defended the strike by claiming Iran had enriched uranium close to weapons-grade levels (around 60%)—a potential breach of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. Iran denied these accusations, insisting its nuclear programme was strictly for civilian purposes.
In retaliation, Iran launched True Promise III, a large-scale missile and drone attack on major Israeli cities, including Tel Aviv, Haifa, and Jerusalem. The strikes caused casualties and damage to key infrastructure, such as hospitals and public buildings.
This confrontation stems not only from recent events but also from years of deep-rooted hostility. Iran’s backing of groups like Hezbollah and Hamas, alongside Israeli intelligence operations across the region, has kept tensions simmering for decades.

Iran, for decades, has faced international sanctions that cripple its economy. These sanctions, imposed in the name of preventing nuclear escalation, have contributed to widespread inflation, unemployment, and scarcity of medicine and food—burdens that fall heaviest on the poor. Within this hardship, the government mobilises nationalism and resistance narratives to maintain legitimacy and consolidate power.
Israel, on the other hand, channels immense resources into security and military preparedness. This has produced a technologically advanced state, but also a society burdened by perpetual tension. Though far wealthier than many of its neighbours, Israel still faces inner economic divides, especially between Jewish and Arab citizens, and between the centre and the periphery.

The ongoing conflict between Iran and Israel has significantly disrupted the global geopolitical landscape and sent tremors through the world’s energy economy. Following Israel’s airstrikes on Iranian nuclear and military facilities, fears of a broader regional war have intensified. In response, Iran has threatened to close the Strait of Hormuz—a narrow but crucial maritime passage through which nearly a fifth of the world’s oil supply flows. This threat alone has already caused oil prices to surge by over $10 per barrel.
Such a spike in oil prices has far-reaching consequences. Countries that rely heavily on energy imports, particularly developing economies like Indonesia, India, and even parts of Europe, are now grappling with rising fuel costs. This, in turn, drives up the price of transportation, food, and everyday goods, worsening inflation and placing additional strain on household budgets.
Moreover, global trade routes have been thrown into uncertainty. Shipping through the Red Sea and the Strait of Hormuz has become riskier, prompting higher insurance premiums and longer delivery times. Exporters in Asia are already reporting delays and increased freight costs, which could ripple across supply chains worldwide.
Diplomatically, the conflict is testing international alliances. The United States and European Union are under pressure to respond, while China—heavily dependent on Iranian oil—is urging restraint to protect its energy interests. Meanwhile, financial markets have reacted nervously. Stock indices, including Indonesia’s IHSG, have dipped as investors grow wary of prolonged instability.
This is not merely a regional skirmish—it is a geopolitical earthquake with the potential to reshape global energy flows, trade dynamics, and diplomatic relations for years to come.

Let’s dive into the worst-case scenario and how Asian nations might navigate their way out of this geopolitical storm.
In the worst-case scenario, the Iran–Israel conflict could spiral into a full-scale regional war, drawing in major powers and paralysing global energy flows. If Iran were to fully blockade the Strait of Hormuz, the consequences would be catastrophic. Oil tankers would be unable to pass through the narrow waterway, cutting off nearly 20% of the world’s crude supply. This would send oil prices skyrocketing—potentially beyond $150 per barrel—triggering a global recession.
Such a disruption would hit Asia particularly hard. Countries like China, India, Japan, and South Korea are heavily dependent on Middle Eastern oil. Their economies, already under pressure from inflation and post-pandemic recovery challenges, would face severe energy shortages and soaring costs. Manufacturing hubs could grind to a halt, and food and fuel prices would surge, sparking unrest in vulnerable regions.
To mitigate this crisis, Asian nations would need to act swiftly and strategically. First, they could tap into their strategic petroleum reserves to cushion the initial shock. Simultaneously, they might accelerate energy diversification—ramping up investments in renewables, nuclear power, and alternative suppliers like Russia, Central Asia, and even Africa.
Diplomatically, countries such as China and India could leverage their ties with both Iran and Israel to push for de-escalation. ASEAN nations might also band together to call for regional stability, recognising that prolonged conflict threatens not just oil, but global trade routes and food security.

In the longer term, this crisis could serve as a wake-up call for Asia to reduce its overreliance on fossil fuels and Middle Eastern geopolitics. It may well be the catalyst for a more resilient, self-sufficient energy future. Let’s explore how this crisis could reshape Indonesia’s energy policy and potentially spark the birth of a new energy alliance in Asia.

The Iran–Israel conflict has acted as a wake-up call for Indonesia, exposing the country’s vulnerability due to its heavy reliance on imported oil. As global prices soar and supply chains grow increasingly fragile, Indonesian policymakers are being forced to rethink the nation’s energy strategy. The government, already under fiscal pressure, is now accelerating efforts to boost domestic oil production, expand renewable energy initiatives, and strengthen strategic fuel reserves.
One of the most immediate responses has been the push to increase domestic oil output, with lifting targets now exceeding 610,000 barrels per day. Simultaneously, the government is doubling down on its biodiesel programme—particularly the B50 blend—as a way to reduce dependence on fossil fuel imports. Geothermal energy is also gaining traction, especially in remote regions where diesel generators have long been the norm.
But beyond national policy, the crisis is also nudging Asian countries toward greater regional cooperation. With shared vulnerabilities and overlapping interests, there is growing momentum for an Asian Energy Alliance—a coalition that could coordinate strategic reserves, negotiate joint procurement deals, and invest in cross-border renewable infrastructure. Countries like China, India, Indonesia, and South Korea are already in informal talks, recognising that energy security in the 21st century may require collective resilience rather than isolated strategies.
For Indonesia, this moment could mark a turning point—not just in reducing its dependence on imported oil, but in helping shape a more integrated and sustainable energy future for the region.

The cycle of tension fuels armament, and armament perpetuates poverty. Billions are spent on war, while people live without decent housing, education, or peace of mind. Every missile launched, every strike conducted, is both a military act and an economic decision—money not spent on healing, but on hurting. In this light, the Iran–Israel conflict becomes not only a political dispute, but a human tragedy shaped by poverty, pride, and the price of fear.
The situation remains volatile, with many fearing wider regional fallout. Global powers have urged restraint, but peace still seems a distant hope.

In The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries are Failing and What Can Be Done About It (2007, Oxford University Press), Paul Collier presents a sobering picture of a world divided—not simply between rich and poor, but between those who are developing and those who are stuck. His focus is on approximately sixty countries, home to nearly one billion people, where poverty is not just persistent but deepening. These countries, Collier argues, are trapped in a vicious cycle where war, corruption, and economic failure feed into one another, making true progress painfully elusive.
One of the most devastating traps he describes is the conflict trap. Civil wars in these countries are not brief or isolated—they are long, recurring, and economically catastrophic. Conflict wipes out infrastructure, displaces millions, and consumes national budgets. Worse still, countries emerging from war have a high likelihood of falling back into conflict within a few years, locking them in a cycle of violence and poverty.
Collier does not leave us with despair. He insists that this situation is neither natural nor inevitable—it is the result of global neglect, bad governance, and poorly designed aid strategies. His solution is not charity but smart, strategic intervention: international peacekeeping, reforming aid, enforcing laws against corruption, and creating economic incentives for peace. Collier’s work is a call to recognise that poverty and war are inseparable in many parts of the world—and that solving one without addressing the other is not only naïve, but dangerous.

In Greed and Grievance: Economic Agendas in Civil Wars (2000, Lynne Rienner Publishers), editors Mats Berdal and David Malone bring together a collection of scholarly essays that challenge the traditional notion that civil wars are purely ideological or ethnic. Instead, the book explores how economic motives—particularly poverty, inequality, and access to resources—fuel and prolong violent conflict.
The authors argue that civil wars often emerge not only from deep-seated grievances like injustice or exclusion, but also from opportunities for financial gain. In impoverished societies where the state is weak and unemployment is rampant, war becomes an economy in itself. Rebel groups, militias, and even corrupt governments may exploit war zones to traffic resources such as diamonds, oil, timber, or narcotics—financing continued violence while civilian populations suffer.
The central thesis is both unsettling and eye-opening: poverty is not merely a backdrop to war—it is often weaponised by those who stand to profit from chaos. The poor are not just victims but are frequently manipulated into becoming the very fuel of war. Rather than healing society, conflict becomes a business model that sustains itself.
Ultimately, Greed and Grievance urges readers and policymakers to look beyond political speeches and into the economic incentives that sustain violence. If poverty and conflict are intertwined, then peacebuilding must involve not just ceasefires and elections, but a restructuring of the economy that gives people something better than war to live for.

In The Looting Machine: Warlords, Oligarchs, Corporations, Smugglers, and the Theft of Africa’s Wealth (2015, William Collins), investigative journalist Tom Burgis unveils a chilling portrait of how modern warfare, corruption, and global capitalism collide to trap entire nations in poverty—while a small elite, both local and international, grows obscenely rich. Focusing particularly on sub-Saharan Africa, Burgis shows how war is no longer merely a political failure, but part of a global economic system designed to extract wealth from the poor and reward the powerful.
He traces how resource-rich countries—especially those with oil, diamonds, and rare minerals—become arenas of endless conflict, not in spite of their wealth, but because of it. Local warlords, multinational corporations, foreign governments, and shady middlemen all play roles in what he calls a "looting machine": a network that profits from conflict, fuels instability, and ensures that the masses remain impoverished and voiceless.
Burgis’s account is grounded in firsthand reporting—from war zones, boardrooms, and corrupt ministries. He paints a sobering picture: while children die in crumbling hospitals and farmers flee burned villages, CEOs sign deals over cocktails in London and Geneva. The victims of this system live in tents and rubble; the beneficiaries wear suits and fly business class.
In exposing this machinery of inequality, The Looting Machine asks an urgent question: if war and poverty are profitable for some, how can we ever hope to end them?

Taken together, The Bottom Billion by Paul Collier, Greed and Grievance edited by Mats Berdal and David Malone, and The Looting Machine by Tom Burgis form a powerful trilogy that exposes the entangled relationship between poverty, conflict, and exploitation in the modern world.

In The Bottom Billion, Paul Collier shines a light on approximately sixty countries that remain trapped in poverty despite global economic growth. He introduces the concept of the “conflict trap,” where war devastates infrastructure and displaces millions, making development nearly impossible. His diagnosis is empirical and policy-driven: poverty fuels conflict, and conflict sustains poverty. He argues for strategic international interventions to disrupt this cycle, including smart aid, targeted governance reform, and peacekeeping.

Greed and Grievance, meanwhile, broadens the lens by interrogating the motives behind civil wars. The book challenges the old belief that conflict is driven solely by ideology or historical tensions. Instead, the authors expose how economic gain—through looting resources or gaining power—often lies at the heart of sustained violence. They highlight how poverty is exploited by warlords and corrupt actors who turn chaos into capital. Civil wars, they argue, become not just political breakdowns but calculated business ventures.

Then comes The Looting Machine, which rips the veil off the global economic system that enables this violence to persist. Tom Burgis moves the spotlight to multinational corporations, foreign governments, and financial elites who profit—often legally—from war-torn, resource-rich countries. His investigation shows that the real looters are not just rebels in the bush, but executives in boardrooms. Poverty, in this context, becomes not an unfortunate accident, but a carefully maintained condition that secures profit.

What unites all three books is a shared conviction: that poverty and conflict are no longer isolated tragedies, but components of a deliberate and highly profitable global system. These works call for more than empathy—they demand systemic change. They expose how the rich world’s silence, and in some cases complicity, allows wars to rage and millions to suffer. Ending poverty, they argue, requires dismantling not only local war machines, but global ones.

[Part 5]
[Part 3]