Veinte días de 2011 eximen a Shakira de pagar a la Hacienda española los impuestos de ese año

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Benja Anglès Juanpere, Profesor titular de Derecho financiero y tributario, UOC – Universitat Oberta de Catalunya

Shakira, en septiembre de 2011, durante un concierto celebrado en Río de Janeiro. A.RICARDO/Shutterstock

La Audiencia Nacional de España acaba de dar la razón a Shakira, obligando a Hacienda a devolver lo pagado indebidamente por la cantante en concepto de los impuestos de la renta y de patrimonio correspondientes al ejercicio 2011, y anula las sanciones que le fueron impuestas.

Todo el caso Shakira se reduce, básicamente, a establecer si su residencia fiscal estaba en España durante los años 2011, 2012, 2013 y 2014, lo que determinaría si estaba obligada o no a pagar impuestos en España.

Según la legislación española, una persona debe tributar en España por los dos citados impuestos en caso de que su residencia habitual se ubique en territorio español, con independencia del lugar donde estén situados sus bienes.

De este modo, no solo tener la nacionalidad determina la obligación de tributar en España, sino también tener la residencia efectiva en el territorio (esto es, residir más de 183 días al año).

El acuerdo del 23

En 2023, Shakira llegó a un acuerdo con la Fiscalía española y aceptó reconocer haber cometido fraude fiscal los años 2012, 2013 y 2014. Además, pagó la deuda tributaria que se le reclamó (más las sanciones correspondientes). Todo con el objetivo de reparar el daño causado a la Hacienda pública y evitar el posible ingreso en prisión en caso de condena.




Leer más:
Shakira, culpable de fraude fiscal: no todo es culpa de la monotonía


En cambio, la cantante no aceptó el mismo criterio para 2011 (hasta 2015 la cantante declaró las Bahamas como lugar de residencia fiscal) y decidió recurrir la resolución administrativa. Ahora, tres años después, una nueva sentencia, en este caso de la Audiencia Nacional, le da la razón y considera que en 2011 no podía considerarse que tuviera residencia en España. Por tanto, ese año no estaría sujeta a tributar por los impuestos de la renta y de patrimonio.

Residencia fiscal 2011: Bahamas

A diferencia de los ejercicios posteriores, por los que sí fue condenada en 2023, en 2011 no existía vínculo conyugal con un residente español (aunque sí había una relación sentimental estable) ni hijos menores de edad residentes en España. Por lo tanto, no existía unidad familiar, ni se podía acreditar que radicara en territorio español el núcleo principal o la base de sus actividades o intereses económicos.

En una resolución de 19 de diciembre de 2022, el Tribunal Económico Administrativo Central (TEAC) abordó la configuración del concepto de centro de intereses económicos señalando: “ha de atender tanto a la renta como al patrimonio del contribuyente, teniendo en cuenta no solo el lugar de ubicación de esos bienes o de obtención de las rentas, sino donde se gestionan o donde tienen lugar los ingresos o los gastos del contribuyente”.

Por el contrario, la sentencia señala que el entramado empresarial que se atribuía a la cantante aquel año, así como el desarrollo mayoritario de su actividad económica, radicaba fuera del territorio español. De hecho, señala que la estancia de Shakira en España fue de 163 días, 20 menos de los 183 días estipulados por la ley: “Por tanto, que Bahamas sea o no un paraíso fiscal en 2011 es irrelevante, porque la recurrente ha probado la permanencia de al menos 183 fuera de España (lo cual no es discutido)”.

Lo que pasó en 2011 no afecta a los tres años siguientes

Los magistrados recalcan que la situación analizada se circunscribe al ejercicio 2011 y que los cambios producidos en las circunstancias de la residencia de la cantante en ejercicios posteriores no afectan al ejercicio objeto de la sentencia. Por tanto, este pronunciamiento tampoco afectaría a las conclusiones y condena de los años posteriores (2012, 2013 y 2014).

No obstante, la Agencia Tributaria ya ha anunciado que recurrirá la sentencia ante el Tribunal Supremo. Así pues, por el momento, esta resolución no sería firme y habrá que esperar a un nuevo pronunciamiento judicial.

Bien podría dedicar esta frase a la Agencia Tributaria: “Te creíste que me heriste, y me volviste más dura”. En cualquier caso, se trata de una buena noticia para la cantante, que tras perder en tres ejercicios, ahora ha conseguido un tanto que, aunque no le da la victoria, sí sabe a gol del honor. Veremos qué dice el VAR del Supremo.

The Conversation

Benja Anglès Juanpere no recibe salario, ni ejerce labores de consultoría, ni posee acciones, ni recibe financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y ha declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado.

ref. Veinte días de 2011 eximen a Shakira de pagar a la Hacienda española los impuestos de ese año – https://theconversation.com/veinte-dias-de-2011-eximen-a-shakira-de-pagar-a-la-hacienda-espanola-los-impuestos-de-ese-ano-283187

Avales públicos en pandemia: de medida urgente a herramienta para la recuperación de las pequeñas empresas

Source: The Conversation – (in Spanish) – By Enrique Acebo, Profesor de Organización de Empresas, Universidad de León

tigercat_lpg/Shutterstock

Durante los meses más duros del confinamiento derivado de la covid-19, los gobiernos abrieron el grifo del crédito para evitar un colapso del tejido productivo. En España, el Instituto de Crédito Oficial (ICO) movilizó 140 000 millones de euros en líneas de avales para sostener la liquidez de las empresas. La pregunta incómoda apareció enseguida: ¿estábamos prolongando la agonía de firmas inviables, las llamadas empresas zombis, o tendiendo un salvavidas para que negocios viables sobrevivieran a un shock sin precedentes?

Para dar una respuesta a este interrogante hemos analizado más de 400 000 empresas españolas. Y encontramos que las ayudas no se limitaron a apoyar a compañías viables. En muchos casos, también facilitaron una recuperación real y medible de empresas que estaban en peores condiciones.

¿Qué es una empresa zombi?

Una empresa zombi es aquella que sigue operando gracias a condiciones externas favorables (financiación a bajos tipos de interés o garantías de préstamos públicos) pero que no genera ingresos suficientes para cubrir sus costes financieros. El debate surge porque, si se dirigen recursos públicos y privados a negocios improductivos, el conjunto de la economía pierde dinamismo, se frena la inversión en innovación y cae la productividad.

Antes de 2020 ya se alertaba de ese riesgo, pero la pandemia planteó un dilema distinto: el shock sanitario obligó a cerrar temporalmente sectores enteros que en condiciones normales eran viables. De ahí que los gobiernos tuvieran que decidir si dejaban que el mercado hiciera su trabajo de “selección natural” o evitaban una crisis aún mayor interviniendo masivamente?




Leer más:
Las empresas zombis existen e influyen en la competitividad y el empleo


El experimento natural de las garantías ICO

Entre 2020 y 2021 el ICO avaló gran parte de los nuevos préstamos para que el crédito siguiera fluyendo durante los confinamientos y la reapertura. La cobertura alcanzó hasta el 80 % en pymes (que constituyen el 99,8 % de las empresas en España) y se situó entre el 60 y el 70 % en empresas mayores.

Hemos analizado 181 526 pymes que accedieron a estas garantías y las comparamos con otras 220 179 que no lo hicieron, considerando su tamaño, sector de actividad y situación financiera previa (zombi o no-zombi). La comparación permite observar no solo si sobrevivieron más empresas con apoyo, sino si mejoraron también en ingresos y número de trabajadores.

La sorpresa: las pequeñas empresas zombis resucitan

Los resultados desafían lo esperado. Entre las empresas pequeñas (con plantillas de 10 a 49 personas) clasificadas como zombis, aquellas que recibieron avales del ICO registraron un aumento de ingresos cercano al 80 % frente a las que no lo hicieron. Dos años después, su empleo había crecido alrededor del 30 % y su tasa de recuperación, medida como abandono del estatus zombi, alcanzó el 46,2 % frente al 34,9 % de las no apoyadas. No hablamos de compañías mantenidas artificialmente a flote sin cambios reales. Hablamos de negocios que, gracias a un empujón de liquidez, reordenaron operaciones, recuperaron clientes y volvieron a generar empleo.

Las microempresas (con menos de 10 trabajadores) zombis también mejoraron, aunque de forma más contenida, con alzas en torno al 20 % en ingresos y al 5 % en empleo. Su mayor vulnerabilidad estructural y la falta de músculo para acometer cambios explican parte de esa diferencia. Sin embargo, el impacto de las ayudas fue mayor que el registrado entre las microempresas no zombis (con diferenciales alrededor del 13 % en ingresos y del 3 % en empleo, en comparación con las que no recibieron ayudas).

Lecciones para la próxima crisis

Estos resultados tienen importantes implicaciones para el diseño de políticas públicas en futuras crisis pues:

  1. Refutan los recelos hacia las ayudas públicas por, supuestamente, generar despilfarro y una mala asignación de recursos. Estos resultados demuestran que el apoyo gubernamental, si se dirige adecuadamente, puede facilitar la recuperación real de las empresas en dificultades, y no solo posponer su inevitable salida del mercado.

  2. Sugieren que las intervenciones deben tener en cuenta el tamaño de las empresas, siendo las pequeñas las que más se benefician de estas ayudas.

El estudio también revela que los ingresos se recuperan más rápidamente que el empleo. Este patrón es típico en las recuperaciones económicas: las empresas primero estabilizan su cuenta de resultados y luego, gradualmente, aumentan su fuerza laboral.

Una segunda oportunidad que funciona

La evidencia española sugiere que las políticas de apoyo durante la pandemia no dieron lugar a una zombificación de la economía. Por el contrario, las pequeñas empresas zombis que recibieron apoyo no solo sobrevivieron, sino que muchas se transformaron en negocios viables, contribuyendo nuevamente al crecimiento económico y al empleo. Este estudio demuestra que, en circunstancias excepcionales, abrir el grifo del crédito público para mantener vivas a las empresas golpeadas es la estrategia correcta a seguir.

Para los responsables de políticas públicas que deban enfrentarse al diseño de mecanismos extraordinarios por razones de emergencia o de recuperación, el mensaje es claro: el apoyo financiero del Estado puede ser una herramienta poderosa para la recuperación económica, especialmente cuando se enfoca en las empresas pequeñas que muestran mayor agilidad y capacidad de adaptación.

The Conversation

Las personas firmantes no son asalariadas, ni consultoras, ni poseen acciones, ni reciben financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y han declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado anteriormente.

ref. Avales públicos en pandemia: de medida urgente a herramienta para la recuperación de las pequeñas empresas – https://theconversation.com/avales-publicos-en-pandemia-de-medida-urgente-a-herramienta-para-la-recuperacion-de-las-pequenas-empresas-268524

Even if the UK changes prime minister, voters now expect to hear the language of populism

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Stephen Coleman, Emeritus Professor of Political Communication, University of Leeds

Beyond the high drama surrounding the Makerfield by-election and the contest to be the UK prime minister lies a more fundamental battle. It is the struggle between the incremental pragmatism of mainstream politics and the magical thinking of populism.

The great catchword of recent UK politics has been “change”. Brexit, it was said, would change the country’s declining position in the world. Boris Johnson said after his landslide electoral victory in 2019 that he was going to take on “the problems that no government has had the guts to tackle before”.

Labour’s 2024 election manifesto, entitled “Change”, declared that a Starmer-led government would “stop the chaos, turn the page, and start to rebuild our country”.




Read more:
English local elections 2026: a story of a new kind of politics


But people have different ideas of what change means and how fast it can happen.
In a world full of entrenched, unequal social structures and complex, intractable
global problems, change is inevitably a long-term project. But voters tend not to be in the business of long-term evaluation.

Similarly, they are not impressed by graphs showing that the UK economy is currently the fastest-growing in the G7 or that waiting times for NHS treatment in England are at their lowest level in more than three years.

There are undoubtedly better ways of communicating long-term change and
identifying quick wins than the current government has adopted. However, the real battle is not between rival tellers of the mainstream narrative, but between two completely different conceptions of change. Remembering this will be crucial for Andy Burnham when he takes on Reform UK in the Makerfield by-election in his bid to return to Westminster to challenge Keir Starmer for the leadership of the Labour party and his job as prime minister.

Feelings over facts

Populist leaders are successful not because they have more convincing policies for house-building, ending child poverty or realising energy security. The change they offer appeals to visceral feelings rather than material needs. “Imagine how you will feel on the day that we come to power,” they say. “Think of how shattered all of those people who have ignored you, talked down to you, taken your jobs and pushed ahead of you in the queue for services will feel.”

Populists such as Reform UK (according to current polls the most likely party to win the next UK general election) are less interested in setting out a policy programme than in connecting with voters’ raw nerves.

That is why the most crucial lesson for Labour from the 2026 local elections
was not their devastating defeat, but the unstoppable surge of Reform’s appeal to
voters that threatened to leave them in the margins in the next general election.
Labour’s reflex response was to look at deposing its leader. And possibly at least one of Starmer’s rivals for the job would be more effective at taking on this new form of political opposition.

More important, however, is to be clear what is involved in taking on
populism. A new prime minister will be faced with exactly the same challenges as
the current one and will not be able to deliver transformative change simply by force of an appealing personality.

Europe will still be involved in its longest war since 1945. The US will continue to be an unreliable partner. The climate emergency will go on wreaking havoc. Social care for an ageing population will remain a massive challenge. National debt will still limit the capacity for public investment. Regional disparities and indefensible social inequalities will still exist.

andy burnham holding a microphone and addressing an audience.
Graphs aren’t enough – Andy Burnham will have to show that he can speak to voters’ fears and frustrations.
R Heilig/Shutterstock

All of these challenges and more will result in sections of the electorate feeling alienated and disappointed – the very sentiments upon which populism depends.

The big question for whoever is going to be prime minister in the next three years is not just about policy and delivery (although it is also very much about that), but about offering an alternative to the psychic appeal of populism. That will entail adopting a three-point strategy.

First, politicians need to acknowledge the depth of disappointment felt by people whose parents and grandparents had once believed that the government was there to look after them in times of need. The prime minister should declare an urgent mission to build an infrastructure of cradle-to-grave care, which exists not to tell people how they should be feeling, but to be democratically accountable to their needs and priorities as individuals and communities.

Second, there is a need for a complete overhaul of political language, led by the prime minister’s example, eschewing the lexicon of technocratic cliche and adopting the conversational tone of speaking with rather than speaking at people.

Third, there is a need for boldness in calling out the ugly sentiments of populism and appealing explicitly to the more generous, positive feelings and beliefs of the majority that are too often excluded from the domain of hardheaded politics.

A new prime minister will need to be imaginative in demonstrating that populists are not the only ones who can appeal to people’s deepest apprehensions and desires. And they will have to show that politics can be more like an inclusive conversation than a PowerPoint presentation. In that case, then perhaps the recent soap opera will not be as inconsequential as many people perceive it to be.

The Conversation

Stephen Coleman does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Even if the UK changes prime minister, voters now expect to hear the language of populism – https://theconversation.com/even-if-the-uk-changes-prime-minister-voters-now-expect-to-hear-the-language-of-populism-283088

Ancient tooth proteins suggest ‘Homo erectus’ may have left a genetic legacy in people today

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Sally Christine Reynolds, Associate Professor in Hominin Palaeoecology, Bournemouth University

For most of the 20th century, the model of human origins was a tree: with the trunk dividing into branches, and then twigs. Each species of human relative (hominin) was a neat, single branch.

As an undergraduate, I was taught that Homo sapiens was one of these branches that emerged in Africa, spread across the world, and displaced every archaic human it encountered.

Neanderthals, Homo erectus, and other ancient relatives were evolutionary dead ends – unfortunate cousins who left no descendants. In the 30 years since I left university, those early lessons are now radically revised.

That neat replacement story is now comprehensively wrong, largely thanks to studies like the one published in Nature this week by Qiaomei Fu from the Chinese Academy of Sciences and colleagues. The paper achieves something that would have seemed impossible a decade ago: it recovers meaningful biological information from H. erectus fossils far too old for DNA.

Instead of genetic sequences, the team extracted ancient proteins from the enamel of six teeth from three Chinese sites – Zhoukoudian (which, in the early 20th century, produced fossil remains known as “Peking Man”), Hexian and Sunjiadong – all dating to around 400,000 years ago.

Homo erectus is widely regarded as the first hominin to leave Africa; the evidence suggests this species had moved into Eurasia nearly two million years ago. It remains the most geographically widespread human ancestor that ever lived. The new study indicates that Homo erectus exchanged genes (probably through interbreeding) with Denisovans in East Asia roughly 400,000 years ago.

The study suggests that some of that genetic legacy, it now appears, was passed on to living people in the Philippines, Papua New Guinea, and across south-east Asia.

Tooth enamel is the hardest tissue in the body, and its proteins survive long after DNA has degraded beyond recovery. What the team found in those proteins is striking. All six specimens share a previously unknown amino acid variant – a tiny molecular signature, a single letter changed in the protein sequence, never seen in any other hominin alive or dead.

This variant clusters these east Asian H. erectus into a distinct group, confirming their identity and settling a long-running debate about whether the unusual Hexian fossils were H. erectus at all. A second variant they share, however, is not unique to H. erectus.

A statue at the Zhoukoudian site, where the Peking Man fossils were discovered.
beibaoke / Shutterstock

It also appears in Denisovans – a mysterious archaic (non-Homo sapiens) human group known mainly from a cave in Siberia. The corresponding genetic variant turns up in living people at frequencies of 21% in the Philippines and about 1% in India, distributed in a pattern that matches what we’d expect if it entered modern humans via Denisovan ancestry.

The most reasonable interpretation is that H. erectus populations in east Asia passed this variant to Denisovans through interbreeding, and Denisovans later passed it on to the ancestors of modern south-east Asians and Oceanians. This transfer of genetic material from one species to another is known as introgression.

The lineage we once thought was a dead end has, it turns out, left a small but detectable trace in living human genomes – a molecular thread connecting a Peking Man tooth to living people in Asia.

A pattern repeated

But the significance of today’s paper extends well beyond the specific variant or the specific populations involved. What it really shows is that interbreeding between archaic human lineages was not exceptional. It was routine.

Every major hominin lineage we have been able to examine genomically shows admixture. Modern humans outside Africa carry roughly 2% Neanderthal DNA. Papuans and Aboriginal Australians carry an additional 2–5% Denisovan ancestry.

West African populations carry genetic signatures from an unidentified archaic lineage. Even Denisovans themselves, as today’s study adds further weight to, received gene flow from something older and more diverged — likely H. erectus.

The Harbin skull, discovered in north-east China, was recently identified as a probable Denisovan.
Fu et al. Cell, CC BY-SA

A 2019 review in the American Journal of Physical Anthropology documents at least three distinct introgression events from Denisovan-like populations into south-east Asian and Oceanic ancestors alone, some occurring as recently as 20,000 years ago. The picture is not one of clean lineages but of a tangled web of contact and exchange extending across millions of years.

The implications are far-reaching. Our genomes are not the product of a single unbroken lineage emerging from Africa. They are mosaics, assembled from contributions by multiple archaic groups, each adapted to its own regional environment.

Some of the Denisovan-derived variants in Papuan genomes, for instance, appear to influence immune function. The H. erectus-derived variant identified today has unknown functional consequences – that remains an open question – but the precedent from other gene variants that have introgressed (genes that have passed from one species into another) suggests that adaptation to new environments may have been part of the story.

Ghost populations

Perhaps most intriguing is what the new paper implies about all the populations we cannot yet study. H. erectus survived in Indonesia until perhaps 100,000 years ago. Homo floresiensis, the diminutive “hobbit” species, was present on Flores when modern humans arrived. Another human lineage, Homo luzonensis, occupied the Philippines.

None of these populations have yielded DNA, and until today none had yielded any molecular data at all. Were they also absorbed, at least partially, into the human populations that replaced them? The genomic evidence from living people has not, so far, detected their signal clearly – but the tools available until recently were blunt instruments.

The proteomic approach demonstrated in today’s paper offers a way forward. If proteins can be recovered from H. erectus enamel at 400,000 years, the same approach applied to floresiensis or luzonensis material might finally reveal whether those lineages, too, contributed something to the humans who came after them.

The old metaphor of a tree – a single trunk branching into distinct species – has been quietly replaced in the scientific literature. It might be better to consider the process as a braided river, with many channels running partly together and partly apart, exchanging water continuously.

This new study is one more confirmation that when ancient human populations disappeared, they left traces of themselves behind.

The Conversation

Sally Christine Reynolds does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Ancient tooth proteins suggest ‘Homo erectus’ may have left a genetic legacy in people today – https://theconversation.com/ancient-tooth-proteins-suggest-homo-erectus-may-have-left-a-genetic-legacy-in-people-today-282785

Why indie sleaze feels nostalgic – even for people who never lived it

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Lucy Bennett, Lecturer in Popular Music, Digital Culture and Fandom, Cardiff University

Scrolling through social media, it feels as though “indie sleaze” never went away. Grainy flash photography, smudged eyeliner and a soundtrack of early 2000s indie music are once again dominating feeds.

This revival is more of a reworking than a straightforward comeback. Today’s indie sleaze – exemplified in the music video for Charli XCX’s new track, Rock Music – is an algorithmically curated version of a once messy, participatory subculture. Its renewed appeal seems to lie partly in this aesthetic of imperfection, partly in its connection to earlier digital platforms and partly in what it evokes – a specific cultural moment associated with pre-social media digital life.

The original “indie sleaze” moment emerged in the early-mid 2000s, connecting with music, fashion, nightlife and online culture. It coalesced around a wide mix of genres, including electro and “indie” rock, particularly bands from New York such as The Strokes and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and in the UK The Libertines, Long Blondes, Arctic Monkeys and Franz Ferdinand. However, it was it more than just the music – the visuals and lifestyle played a core part.


No one’s 20s and 30s look the same. You might be saving for a mortgage or just struggling to pay rent. You could be swiping dating apps, or trying to understand childcare. No matter your current challenges, our Quarter Life series has articles to share in the group chat, or just to remind you that you’re not alone.

Read more from Quarter Life:


Equally important were the digital platforms that enabled new forms of fan participation and visibility. Sites like MySpace, LiveJournal and later Tumblr, allowed fans, bloggers and photographers to document and curate the scene in real time.

These platforms operated differently from today’s social media environment. They were less centralised or driven by algorithm recommendation, allowing different music scenes to emerge more gradually and at times unevenly across networks of different users.

Rock Song by Charli XCX taps into indie sleaze nostalgia.

As media researcher Henry Jenkins has argued, spaces like these foster forms of participatory culture, in which audiences actively shape and circulate media, often connecting with their own personal pleasures. Indie sleaze deeply connects with this, being a scene produced as much through fan practices such as blogging, photographing and sharing, as through the music itself.

What’s changed

The current revival can be traced back to a viral TikTok trend forecast in 2021, which predicted that the scene would be returning and gave it its specific name and coherence. Nobody was describing the scene as “indie sleaze” during its original heyday.

Since then, TikTok “indie sleaze” content has circulated through recognisable formats such as “get ready with me” videos styled for nights out or themed parties, slideshows of grainy flash photography, makeup tutorials and nostalgic edits imagining early 2000s club culture.

This is supplemented by accounts such as the curated @indiesleaze on Instagram, which highlights the importance of earlier platforms such as Flickr in documenting the scene. It allows followers to contrast the media we had then and its dynamics, with what we have now.

What stands out about this revival is its relationship to nostalgia. Many of the TikTok users producing indie sleaze content now were too young to have experienced the original scene. Instead, they engage with it through fragments such as archived images, music playlists and viral videos that reconstruct the past as a particular aesthetic and feeling. As a result, what circulates is not the lived reality of mid 2000s nightlife, but a stylised and selective memory of it.

For some music fans, this nostalgia is about a different experience of digital culture – one that feels less dominated by platforms, filters, AI and algorithms. For those who lived through indie sleaze, this revival may also produce a different kind of nostalgia that rests on memory.

On platforms like TikTok, “indie sleaze” has become a template that others can engage in through a set of visual cues and references that can be easily reproduced and widely circulated. This suggests that it is precisely indie sleaze’s messiness that makes it appealing and draws some people in. Its grain, blur and imperfection offer such a stark contrast to the polished, filter heavy and increasingly AI-mediated environments that characterise much of our contemporary social media.

There is also a sense of irony here. While indie sleaze is often appealing because of its rawness and imperfection, some of these visuals are now recreated through the very technologies they seem to resist. Filters and editing apps can add effects to smartphone images, digitally reproducing the look of older cameras and online photography. In this sense, the messiness associated with indie sleaze is no longer entirely spontaneous, but increasingly stylised for social media platforms.

Similar dynamics were at play in the reception of Charli XCX’s Brat album in 2025, which also resonated with audiences through its deliberately bold, messy, self aware aesthetic.




Read more:
Brat by Charli XCX is a work of contemporary imagist poetry – and a reclamation of ‘bratty’ women’s art


Music is often used by fans to connect to another time, whether through memory, or imagined pasts, bringing a sense of these moments into the present. In this sense, the return of indie sleaze is not simply a revival of a past musical movement, but a nostalgic reworking of it in the present.

As I have explored in previous research with Rafal Zaborowski on the resurgence of Kate Bush on TikTok, such revivals are often shaped by the logics of the platforms through which they circulate, connecting with forms of affect or nostalgia. What emerges then is not a faithful reconstruction or revival, but instead a version of the past that is made visible, shareable and open to reinterpretation in new ways and to new generations.

Ultimately this revival tells us as much about the present as it does about the past, raising broader insights about how digital platforms are reshaping not just what music fans remember, but the ways in which those memories are formed and shared.

The Conversation

Lucy Bennett does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Why indie sleaze feels nostalgic – even for people who never lived it – https://theconversation.com/why-indie-sleaze-feels-nostalgic-even-for-people-who-never-lived-it-282542

Drug shortages continue to be a problem in the UK – yet strengthening supply chains alone won’t solve this issue

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Emilia Vann Yaroson, Assistant Professor in Operations and Supply Chain Management, University of Sheffield

Zhenny-zhenny/ Shutterstock

The UK continues to experience shortages of many common prescription drugs, despite efforts to strengthen supply chains.

Drugs for ADHD, epilepsy, GLP-1s for type 2 diabetes and weight loss, as well as ramipril (which is used to treat high blood pressure and heart failure), have all faced supply shortages since the end of last year or beginning of this year.

As products become unavailable, pressure increases across the system to secure alternatives. If patients do not receive treatment promptly and consistently, their quality of life can suffer.

Medicine supply shortages pose a significant threat to the UK’s public health. And, as a recent government inquiry revealed, the UK’s current medicine supply chain is very vulnerable to disruptions.

Making supply chains more resilient would normally have been the best strategy for ensuring the UK can maintain supplies of medicine and recover quickly when problems do occur. But growing global and supply chain pressures mean medicine shortages are likely to continue unless deeper system weaknesses are addressed.

Why shortages keep happening

Medicine supply chains are global, highly regulated and complex. Challenges such as factory maintenance, transport delays or rising demand in other countries can quickly affect medicine supplies in the UK.

Recent disruptions, such as the Iran conflict, have raised concerns about future medicines security. The war has already driven up the cost of some prescription drugs by 30%. This is largely due to the jump in gas and diesel prices, making manufacturing and shipping more costly.

The rising cost of raw materials and energy can also contribute to increasing drug costs for patients and healthcare systems.

The supply and demand for medicines can fluctuate as well depending on disease prevalence, access to diagnosis, market pricing and people’s ability to pay. For instance, ongoing HRT shortages have partly been blamed on increased demand for the drug following GP consultations.

It can therefore be challenging to ensure a constant supply of medication. But this is not just a UK issue – it’s a worldwide problem.

The UK competes globally for access to medicines and critical ingredients. Approximately 80% of the medicines used to treat UK patients are non-branded or “generics”. These are mainly manufactured in China and India. Generics are clinically effective but less expensive than branded drugs, so there’s a heavy reliance on them internationally.

China and India are also the primary manufacturers of many basic pharmaceutical ingredients. This increases global reliance on these countries. Manufacturing problems or transport delays in these countries can quickly reduce worldwide access to medicines.

Community pharmacies, which buy the medicines dispensed to patients in the UK, are directly affected by drug shortages. When medicines are not available and demand exceeds supply, market prices can rise quickly. These independent businesses may therefore be financially challenged by drug prices.

Although the Department of Health & Social Care (DHSC) has agreed prices and will refund pharmacies for the medicines they buy, the pharmacies can still make a loss on the purchases – and DHSC payments are always in arrears.

Patients usually access their medications through their local community pharmacy. But in the past five years, more than 1,000 community pharmacies have closed in the UK. Some of the causes of these closures are directly related to drug supplies, including medicine reimbursement and pressure due to shortages. Closing local community pharmacies puts pressure on the remaining pharmacies to maintain stock.

If patients cannot access their medicines, it can trigger panic orders and stockpiling, which may place even greater pressure on already fragile supply chains and waste. In some cases, these shortages also create opportunities for counterfeit medicines to infiltrate the market, as desperate patients seek alternative sources to meet their needs.

A person's hand holding three orange prescription medicines vials which are empty.
Shortages can trigger panic and stockpiling.
Diomedes Cordero Acevedo/ Shutterstock

Low medicine prices have also been cited as a key reason for suppliers leaving the market or companies such as AstraZeneca reducing UK investment.

A lack of timely and informative communication about prescription drug shortages can lead to patient concerns, providers panicking and trading opportunism. Patients do not know why they can’t access their medicines or how long the situation will last.

What can we do?

There are calls from within the sector for earlier signalling of supply issues and changes in demand. This would give UK suppliers more time to find alternative medicines, plan production schedules, reduce delays and disruption and hopefully better prevent medicine shortages.

Effective and timely communication is also needed to support providers in doing their jobs and allay patient concerns.

Focusing on the pricing of medicines and its wider impact on our healthcare system is another important factor. The UK Life Sciences Sector Plan aims to support the sector and attract investors to strengthen local medicine production and reduce the impact of medicine shortages.

Educating stakeholders can help reduce medicine shortages by improving awareness, coordination and responsible behaviour across the supply chain. Educating community pharmacists and patients of the causes and impact of medicine shortages is also key. This can reduce panic orders, unnecessary stockpiling of medicines and prevent counterfeit or unregulated products entering the market.

The UK government should also collaborate more extensively with European partners by sourcing products from trusted or geographically close countries. This would not only promote stronger relationships but also create direct access to alternate medicine supply sources.

The current market leaders benefit from economies of scale and scope, however. More local and distributed manufacture may be stable but expensive. Key ingredients still often have single (or few) sources.

Improving supply resilience is essential for maintaining the availability of prescription drugs and reducing service pressures. But it isn’t the only strategy the UK government should rely on. Appreciation of the role of the patient and the provider as recipients is important in managing the impact and continuity of supply issues.

For patients experiencing shortages, it’s important you don’t panic buy and stockpile items, and continue ordering your prescription only when needed. Your pharmacist can also give you advice on what to do if your usual medicine is not in stock.

The Conversation

Liz Breen is affiliated with the House of Lords Public Select Committee Medicines Security Inquiry as a Specialist Advisor. She received funding from the House of Lords.

Emilia Vann Yaroson and Jonathan Silcock do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Drug shortages continue to be a problem in the UK – yet strengthening supply chains alone won’t solve this issue – https://theconversation.com/drug-shortages-continue-to-be-a-problem-in-the-uk-yet-strengthening-supply-chains-alone-wont-solve-this-issue-282682

Eurovision 2026 : les Européens « unis par la musique », vraiment ?

Source: The Conversation – in French – By Florent Parmentier, Secrétaire général du CEVIPOF. Enseignant, Sciences Po

Par-delà la victoire surprise de la candidate bulgare Dara et les chiffres d’audience toujours massifs, la 70ᵉ édition du concours Eurovision, le « plus grand événement musical en direct du monde », aura reflété les tensions qui traversent actuellement le continent.


Pour sa 70ᵉ édition, célébrée à la Stadthalle de Vienne (Autriche) et organisée par l’ÖRF, le groupe audiovisuel public autrichien, le concours Eurovision a, une fois encore, été profondément marqué par la géopolitique européenne et les dynamiques internationales.

Depuis sept décennies maintenant, ce concours se proclame apolitique, par la lettre (son règlement) et par l’esprit (promotion d’une forme d’unité européenne et pacifisme post-1945). Pourtant, c’est aussi un champ de frictions politiques, culturelles et médiatiques entre des imaginaires et des États, où nombre d’acteurs entendent se saisir de la visibilité de l’événement afin de promouvoir leurs priorités politiques et leurs valeurs.

Prendre un peu de recul est nécessaire pour évaluer la portée de l’édition 2026, loin du vacarme des polémiques et de la transe d’un spectacle télévisé de plus de trois heures pour la seule finale. Désormais installé dans le paysage médiatique international mondial, « l’événement monstre » (selon l’expression de l’historien Pierre Nora) que constitue l’Eurovision donne la mesure de la géopolitique actuelle.

Longévité du concours, concurrence des récits

Le rassemblement viennois a souligné combien l’Eurovision est devenu un rituel médiatique et symbolique continental : il a réuni des dizaines de millions de téléspectateurs, et drainé vers Vienne des dizaines de milliers de spectateurs, de fans, de touristes et de professionnels. Si l’édition 2026 a pu rencontrer un tel succès malgré le boycott de cinq pays – l’Espagne, l’Irlande, l’Islande, les Pays-Bas et la Slovénie –, c’est que cette grand-messe musicale, séculière et commerciale rencontre une tendance profonde de la géopolitique contemporaine : le besoin de jalons collectifs et la lutte des narratifs.

En effet, les relations internationales sont désormais dominées par une succession ininterrompue de sommets, expositions, concours, commémorations, défilés, qui sont autant de jalons collectifs car fortement médiatisés. Le calendrier mondial est scandé par ces événements. Mais il est aussi marqué par les affrontements auxquels ces événements donnent lieu : en faire partie ou non, telle est la question.

La charge géopolitique extra-européenne

Le bilan géopolitique de l’Eurovision 2026 ne saurait être complet s’il ne comprenait son lot de polémiques, fugaces ou fondamentales.

Cette année, la principale polémique a porté sur la participation au concours de Noam Bettan, candidat franco-israélien porté par la KAN, l’audiovisuel public de Tel-Aviv. Sa présence avait suscité des débats acharnés et mené au boycott des cinq pays sus-cités au nom de la condamnation de la politique du gouvernement Nétanyahou à l’égard des Palestiniens. Le 11 mai, à la veille du début du concours, le New York Times a d’ailleurs publié une longue analyse consacrée à la façon dont Israël utilisait l’Eurovision comme un outil de soft power.

Le premier ministre Pedro Sanchez a affirmé que l’Espagne était « du bon côté de l’Histoire » en boycottant l’édition de cette année au nom du respect du droit international et des droits de l’homme. Rappelons que les polémiques sur la participation d’Israël au concours (le pays a été admis en 1973) sont récurrentes au sein de l’UER depuis des années. Elles ont enflé avec l’exclusion de la Russie et de la Biélorussie en 2022, et été considérablement amplifiées par les opérations militaires destructrices et meurtrières de l’armée israélienne à Gaza menées en représailles des massacres commis par le Hamas, le 7 octobre 2023. Depuis lors, plusieurs groupes audiovisuels ont agité le spectre du boycott, et cinq d’entre eux ont mis cette fois cette menace à exécution – une rupture avec les éditions 2024 et 2025 qui n’avaient pas connu de boycott, alors même que la guerre à Gaza était plus intense.

Ce ne fut pas la seule polémique ayant marqué l’édition 2026. Quelques heures avant la finale du 16 juin, le patron de l’Eurovision, le Britannique Martin Green, a évoqué un possible retour de la Russie au concours. Ce jugement choque à Kiev et chez ses soutiens, alors même que Moscou a été exclu depuis 2022, organise son propre concours, l’Intervision, et continue de bombarder massivement l’Ukraine.

Par ailleurs, si depuis 2013 la Turquie ne participe plus à l’Eurovision, qu’elle juge « immorale » car certains musiciens affichent explicitement leur appartenance à la communauté LGBTQIA+, elle a été irritée par la chanson du groupe croate Lelek, qui a mis en lumière le sicanje, une tradition remontant à l’époque de l’occupation ottomane : les jeunes femmes catholiques de Croatie et de Bosnie-Herzégovine se faisaient alors souvent tatouer les mains et le visage pour ne pas être prises de force en concubines par des militaires ottomans.

Polyphonie en hymne à la diversité

À plusieurs égards, l’Eurovision 2026 a également illustré les accords et désaccords de l’Europe actuelle.

Une Europe qui est restée unie lorsqu’il a fallu exclure la Russie en 2022, mais qui s’avère divisée en ce qui concerne le sort d’Israël, redessinant la carte du concours. C’est aussi une Europe qui s’interroge sur l’équilibre entre souveraineté culturelle et mondialisation : si la gagnante bulgare a concouru en anglais, 60 % des pays ont chanté dans leur langue en 2026, y compris dans l’Europe nordique qui présente généralement des candidats chantant en anglais, contre seulement 24 % en 2016.

Classiquement, on a retrouvé une Europe avec un certain nombre d’invariants dans sa géographie affective, traversée par les proximités géographiques et les diasporas : le jury chypriote a voté pour la Grèce et réciproquement, la Suède a voté pour la Finlande, le Monténégro pour la Serbie, la Norvège pour le Danemark, l’Albanie pour l’Italie. Tout juste pourra-t-on s’étonner, pour un concours qui a vu la victoire du groupe ABBA en 1974 avec Waterloo, des douze points attribués par le jury britannique à la candidate française Monroe.

Le bon classement (deuxième place) du candidat présenté par Israël démontre, une fois encore, que la politique n’explique pas tous les palmarès du concours : le groupe audiovisuel israélien KAN présente régulièrement d’excellents artistes, des chansons attrayantes et des chorégraphies qui suscitent l’intérêt. En outre, par-delà le boycott de certains pays, certaines autres opinions publiques ont manifesté leur sympathie pour Israël. Dans les votes en faveur de Noam Bettan, la part des soutiens artistiques et politiques est difficile à évaluer, sans même parler des soupçons de manipulation en sa faveur dans plusieurs États. Là encore, politique, technique, marketing et chorégraphies se sont mêlés.

Enfin, et c’est peut-être plus surprenant, on perçoit une Europe qui peut vivre une crise en son sein, mais continuer d’exercer une certaine attractivité au-delà de ses frontières, comme en témoigne l’expansion en novembre prochain du concours à l’Asie une première. L’Eurovision s’est même étendue aux antipodes avec l’Australie, membre affiliée de l’Union européenne de radio-télévision (UER) et participante depuis une dizaine d’années, et le Canada s’interroge sérieusement sur sa participation.

En dépit de tout, l’historien et prospectiviste israélien Yuval Noah Harari, détracteur de Benyamin Nétanyahou, rappelle combien ce modèle peut être nécessaire aujourd’hui :

« Aujourd’hui, alors que des forces politiques remettent en cause de nombreuses institutions internationales et que des technologies telles que les réseaux sociaux et l’intelligence artificielle menacent de pousser les gens à s’éloigner les uns des autres au lieu de les rapprocher, l’Eurovision offre un rappel d’une vision très différente de l’avenir. »

The Conversation

Les auteurs ne travaillent pas, ne conseillent pas, ne possèdent pas de parts, ne reçoivent pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’ont déclaré aucune autre affiliation que leur organisme de recherche.

ref. Eurovision 2026 : les Européens « unis par la musique », vraiment ? – https://theconversation.com/eurovision-2026-les-europeens-unis-par-la-musique-vraiment-283128

Entre l’art et le luxe, des liaisons dangereuses ?

Source: The Conversation – France (in French) – By Élodie de Boissieu, Professeure associée en marketing, EM Normandie

Le film *Parthenope* (2025), de Paolo Sorrentino, fait la part belle aux créations de la marque Yves Saint Laurent et les met en scène de façon appuyée. Capture d’écran/AllôCiné

D’un côté, l’art offre une légitimité culturelle aux marques de luxe ; de l’autre, la culture s’appuie sur le luxe pour s’offrir une plus grande visibilité. Un rapprochement de plus en plus marqué qui ne va pas sans risques, en particulier pour la liberté artistique.


En 2023, l’artiste plasticien britannique Ryan Gander déclarait :

« Les raisons pour lesquelles les artistes veulent travailler avec des marques et les raisons pour lesquelles les marques veulent travailler avec des artistes sont probablement très différentes. »

Dans les années 1930 et avant qu’Andy Warhol ne sacralise le parfum Chanel No 5, la créatrice de mode Elsa Schiaparelli priait Salvador Dali de créer pour elle une collection d’objets de mode. De cette amitié artistique naît, entre autres, la célèbre robe Homard (1937) immortalisée par la plus subversive des célébrités de l’époque, Wallis Simpson future duchesse de Windsor, qui la porte peu avant son mariage avec l’ex-roi Edward VIII et se fait photographier par Cecil Beaton pour le magazine Vogue. Se dépeignant elle-même comme surréaliste, Schiaparelli offre sa marque comme lieu d’expression de l’œuvre artistique de Dali : le luxe reste à sa place d’éditeur d’art et l’artiste n’est contraint que techniquement.

Près d’un siècle plus tard, les collaborations entre marques et artistes se sont considérablement transformées et les co-brandings fonctionnels aux objectifs partagés ont laissé la place à une prédominance du luxe à tous les niveaux de la scène artistique.

Exposition Schiaparelli, Musée des arts décoratifs (Paris), 2022.
Élodie de Boissieu

Omniprésence du luxe dans l’art

Malgré une réduction récente du nombre de consommateurs, l’achat de produits de luxe est perçu comme un investissement presque rassurant dans le contexte économique actuel. Aussi, toute caution culturelle et artistique supplémentaire renforce la valeur spécifique de l’objet à laquelle il est attaché. Offrir une légitimité culturelle à sa marque pour l’éloigner d’une vision purement consumériste est devenu stratégique. Par ailleurs, une présence dans le monde de l’art lui permet de cultiver son aura d’exclusivité en augmentant l’écart, la distance psychologique qui la sépare avec ses consommateurs au risque de les exclure encore davantage.

Exposition « Chanel fait son numéro », Grand Palais Éphémère (Paris), 2023.
Élodie de Boissieu

À l’opposé, la présence du luxe sur la scène artistique et culturelle le rend plus accessible, car il s’introduit partout dans l’espace public. Ainsi, quand les marques de luxe s’invitaient dans des musées pour dévoiler leur histoire et leur patrimoine dans le but de rallonger le temps de conversation avec leur public et ce, sans parler transaction, celles-ci se font désormais agents culturels en curant elles-mêmes les collections des artistes mises en avant dans leurs boutiques (boutique Guerlain à Paris). Certaines autres vont même jusqu’à ouvrir leur propre musée dédié à leur marque (Galerie Dior, musée Bréguet, Musée Yves Saint Laurent, Fondation Azzedine Alaïa, musée Baccarat, etc.) transformant leurs produits grâce à des procédés muséographiques en véritables objets d’art.

Tandis que quelques marques de montres et d’alcool prenaient place sur le plateau de tournage de James Bond, celles-ci commandent des films à leur effigie (Veuve Clicquot, Christian Dior, Chanel et certains grands groupes créent même des structures consacrées au monde du cinéma (Saint Laurent Productions pour le groupe Kering, 22 Montaigne Entertainment pour LVMH, Prada Film Fund pour Prada).

Alors qu’elles se glissaient au gré des humeurs des chanteurs (de Zadig et Voltaire chez Philippe Delerm à LVMH pour Booba), inspiraient déjà de grands auteurs à la fin du XIXᵉ siècle (Au Bonheur des Dames, d’Émile Zola, pour le Bon Marché), les marques de luxe deviennent de véritables créatrices de contenu musicaux (Hedi Slimane chez Céline) ou curatrices de romans (Charlotte Casighari avec Leïla Slimani dans les Rendez-vous littéraires de Chanel). De simple sponsor financier à travers le co-branding, la marque s’est imposée par sa toute-puissance symbolique sur la scène artistique et indique désormais au visiteur, au cinéphile, au lecteur ce qu’il faut regarder pour faire partie de sa communauté.

Le luxe a-t-il vocation à nous proposer une vision du monde ? En principe, c’est le rôle de l’artiste de la donner. Au lieu d’« artifier » la consommation du luxe, l’art serait-il en passe d’être « luxifié ? »

« Le luxe, c’est la liberté d’esprit, l’indépendance, bref, le politiquement incorrect », disait déjà Christian Dior. Mais si le message semble rappeler celui porté par les artistes eux-mêmes, la marque de luxe ne répond pas au même objectif quand elle pénètre la sphère de l’art.

Dilution du luxe

Il est vrai que la hausse spectaculaire observée sur les prix du luxe, l’explosion du marché de la seconde main, de la contrefaçon et des dupes ainsi que la valse créative (« the Great Fashion Reset ») observés dans la mode et le luxe ces deux dernières années dénotent un essoufflement créatif.

Ce contexte a conduit les marques à revoir leur stratégie pour regagner en authenticité et surtout en désirabilité vis-à-vis de leurs consommateurs. Lancer des sneakers en éditions limitées ou faire habiller ses étendards par l’artiste japonaise Yayoi Kusama et réinterpréter les icônes de la maison ne suffisent plus pour inscrire la marque dans l’intemporalité. Il est vrai qu’à démultiplier les partenariats sans cohérence explicite et parfois avec les mêmes artistes (Takashi Murakami a collaboré en 2003 et en 2025 avec Louis Vuitton), à s’exposer dans des lieux de vente artifiés ou à recruter des artistes de la scène artistique (Pharrell Wiliams chez Tiffany’s et Louis Vuitton, Virgil Abloh chez Louis Vuitton, Nigo chez Kenzo, etc.) comme directeurs de studio, la marque se confond désormais avec l’artiste qu’il emploie quitte à diluer parfois son propre héritage et à gommer ses spécificités.

Bruno Alazard, ex-directeur digital chez LVMH et consultant e-commerce dans le luxe, confiait lors d’un entretien :

« Il y a dix ans, le directeur artistique interprétait les codes de la marque dans le respect de son identité, il y a cinq ans, il était choisi pour son fan-club qui venait aux défilés et faisait le buzz, maintenant il est supposé porter une vision sur le monde, la marque de luxe est holistique. »

Après avoir étendu la marque dans tous les domaines de la consommation de produits et de services, les managers du luxe investissent l’art non plus seulement comme un élément narratif, mais comme un domaine d’extension de leur marque à part entière, offrant aux consommateurs un accès à l’immatérialité du luxe.

Confusion des genres

« Une esthétique foncièrement publicitaire… le nombre de travellings aboutissant sur du vide. »

« Une beauté factice et trop ostentatoire […] l’omniprésence de marques de luxe transforme le film en exhibition de mode. »

Présenté à Cannes en 2024, le film Parthenope, de Paolo Sorrentino, a été largement critiqué, mettant en lumière les confusions de genre entre commerce de luxe et art et pointant du doigt YSL Productions dont la marque éponyme s’immisce artificiellement dans des scènes du film tels des panneaux publicitaires.

Cette mainmise dans les arts visuels, média particulièrement investi par les maisons de luxe pour sa portée auprès de la jeune génération, démontre l’ultraesthétisation de l’art au détriment de la liberté artistique. La perception de l’artiste et son rôle dans la société commencent à se modifier. De la haute cuisine à la haute couture, le chef ou le directeur de la création se transforme peu à peu en créateur artistique à la tête d’ateliers tandis que l’artiste ne fait plus qu’interpréter les icônes de la maison. Quand l’artiste contemporain n’est pas toujours bien compris, l’artiste qui collabore prend lui aussi des risques réputationnels.

Or, la jeune génération, qui passe ses marques favorites au crible de l’éthique sociale et culturelle, ne risque-t-elle pas de voir dans cette domination du luxe sur l’art une façon de s’approprier la scène artistique, et de pratiquer l’art washing, une nouvelle forme d’appropriation, cette fois-ci artistique ? Quand le directeur omnicanal et data (Chief Omnichannel and Data Officer) de LVMH Gonzague de Pirey craint un lissage de la création par le trop grand usage de l’IA dans le luxe, l’artiste, quant à lui, ne doit-il pas craindre un « lissage » de ses créations par les marques de luxe ?

The Conversation

Élodie de Boissieu ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d’une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n’a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.

ref. Entre l’art et le luxe, des liaisons dangereuses ? – https://theconversation.com/entre-lart-et-le-luxe-des-liaisons-dangereuses-279033

Mali’s military leader is consolidating power. Why this is dangerous

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Salah Ben Hammou, Postdoctoral Research Associate, Rice University

Malian officials announced on 4 May 2026 that junta leader General Assimi Goïta would take on the post of defence minister after the killing of General Sadio Camara a week earlier.

Camara’s death occurred amid an offensive by the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA) and Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin, which launched attacks across Mali. Insecurity persists in Mali despite years of military rule, which was justified on promises of restoring order and defeating insurgent violence.

On the surface, Goïta’s decision to absorb the defence portfolio appears to be a pragmatic wartime measure, aimed at ensuring continuity within the armed forces during a period of instability.

But the move also follows a broader political path that has become visible in Mali since the junta seized power in 2020. Rather than institutionalising military rule, Goïta has concentrated authority around the presidency, tightened control over the state’s coercive apparatus, and relied on a small circle of military elites.

As political scientists who have extensively published and written on military coups and regime trajectories in west Africa, we observe this behaviour is not unique to Mali. It is the third country in the region to see military leaders consolidate their authority around individual leaders rather than the armed forces.

Across the post-coup Sahel, military regimes have shifted from presenting themselves as temporary “corrective” interventions to becoming personalised systems of rule. The other two examples are Captain Ibrahim Traoré, who took power in Burkina Faso in September 2022, and Niger’s General Abdourahamane Tiani, who seized power in July 2023.

The distinction matters because military regimes governed collectively by officer coalitions retain some internal balance and institutional constraint. As power becomes concentrated around a single ruler, however, decision-making revolves around personal loyalty rather than broader military or state interests.

Military rule and personalisation in Mali

Goïta (then a colonel) and his companions in Mali toppled President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita in August 2020. The coup architects initially presented themselves as reluctant interveners. At the time, observers expected a short transition. Within months the regional body Ecowas had lifted its financial embargo.

Goïta pledged elections within 18 months, then 24.

A constitutional revision passed in 2025 removed the provision that had previously barred him from standing in any future presidential election. Political parties were banned. The transitional legislative body was filled by presidential decree. And civilian oversight institutions, including the electoral observation body, were dissolved.

The armed forces were restructured along lines scholars recognise as counterbalancing. This is best described as a coup-proofing mechanism. Regimes create parallel armed structures with distinct reporting lines to make it more difficult for any group to move against them.

In Mali, three specialised military units were created with overlapping counter-terrorism mandates that report to the executive. The police were also placed under military discipline.

Goïta assumed the defence portfolio, appointed the former chief of staff of the armed forces, Major General Oumar Diarra, as delegate minister, and named a new chief of staff to replace him.

The defence portfolio controls the largest share of the state budget, grown from 11.5% to 14.5% of GDP since 2020. It is where Mali’s relationship with Africa Corps, which since 2023 has replaced French forces in counter-terrorism operations, is managed daily.

As defence minister since the coup, Camara had been the primary link with Africa Corps.

The appointment of Diarra is consistent with what scholars describe as the rotation of commanders to limit the accumulation of loyalty around any single figure. Diarra had served as chief of staff since 2020.

Burkina Faso and Niger

In Burkina Faso and Niger, too, there have been signs that military regimes are concentrating power around individual military leaders rather than a collective of officers.

Traoré is perhaps the clearest example of this trend. Since seizing power in 2022, he has cultivated an image of himself as a revolutionary anti-colonial figure, drawing comparisons to the iconic Burkinabè leader Thomas Sankara.

Coordinated social media campaigns glorified Traoré while attacking critics. This was combined with nationalist rhetoric and highly publicised economic reforms. All helped elevate his image as the symbolic saviour of Burkinabè society.

Allegations of assassination attempts and coup conspiracies helped rally public support around Traoré as a besieged national leader. They also served as valuable pretexts for targeting political opponents and rivals in the military.

Traoré has appointed family members and trusted allies to strategic positions. Individuals like his brother, Inoussa Traoré, hold senior positions and help curate the regime’s digital message while maintaining links with sympathetic civil society.

Elections are repeatedly delayed and Burkinabes are urged to “forget about democracy”. Traoré is slated to remain in power until 2029.

In Niger, Tiani, the former commander of Mohamed Bazoum’s Presidential Guard, has extended his rule until at least 2030.

Much like Goïta, he has made the timeline conditional on the state of the country’s security.

Tiani dissolved political parties, promoted himself to army general, a first in Niger, and was cast as a national hero. He has reportedly retreated almost entirely from public life and conducts government from within the presidential guard compound.

From there, Tiani has militarised the civilian administration and placed trusted figures around him. General Salifou Mody at defence serves as his principal relay with Russian partners and with the chief of staff of the armed forces, General Moussa Salaou Barmou.

The regime also moved to repress political opponents through civilian-facing institutions, such as the Commission de lutte contre la délinquance économique, financière et fiscale.

The perils of personalism

For decades, political scientists have highlighted the dangers and weaknesses of personalist political systems. Concentrating power around a single ruler often weakens the institutions needed for effective governance and long-term stability.

In military-ruled countries like those in the Sahel, the consequences can be especially severe. Armed forces may be reorganised less around operational effectiveness than around protecting the ruler from rivals and internal threats.

Promotions and command positions become tied to loyalty, parallel security structures proliferate, and mistrust within the officer corps deepens. On the battlefield, these dynamics can undermine coordination and reduce the military’s ability to respond effectively to insurgent violence.

The Conversation

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Mali’s military leader is consolidating power. Why this is dangerous – https://theconversation.com/malis-military-leader-is-consolidating-power-why-this-is-dangerous-282923

Trump’s ‘cordial’ Beijing trip has not changed superpower rivalry

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Maria Ryan, Associate Professor in US History, University of Nottingham

Donald Trump’s appraisal of his recent state visit to China was, typically, positive and self-regarding. At the end of the trip, the US president told reporters that it had achieved “a lot of good” and “fantastic trade deals” had been signed. He concluded that a lot of different problems were settled “that other people wouldn’t have been able to solve”.

As usual, the US president appeared to enjoy the pageantry of a state visit. He likes meeting other “great” leaders – strongmen who lead powerful countries.

At face value, the trip appeared largely successful. The Trump-Xi relationship appeared cordial. There were no undiplomatic comments by Trump. Xi described it as “a milestone visit” of “historic” proportions. Trump said that his relationship with Xi is “a very strong one”. China pledged to buy 200 Boeing aircraft and also committed to buying billions of dollars of soybeans and other agricultural goods. These are all things Trump can present as wins, even if their significance is disputed.

The cordiality of the visit was a contrast to the Biden years, when “extreme competition” with China – in Biden’s words – was the central organising principle of US foreign policy. The Biden administration viewed China as a once-in-a-generation challenger to US power: politically, economically, militarily and ideologically. It believed Beijing was aggressively trying to displace the US as the world’s dominant power and actively sought to prevent this.

Over the past year, the second Trump administration has shifted attention away from great power conflict with China and focused on other things. These have included regime change in Venezuela (and, all the signs suggest, Cuba is now in his sights). He has changed America’s relationship with Europe, introduced an at-times erratic regime of tariffs in an attempt to address US trade deficits. And, above all, he has started a war with Iran.

Ely Ratner, a China hawk from the Biden administration has accused Trump of “strategic deference” towards Beijing. And there can be little doubt that the Trump administration has dialled down the Cold War-style ideological rhetoric about China.

Its 2025 national security strategy stresses that: “We seek good relations and peaceful commercial relations with the nations of the world without imposing on them democratic or other social change that differs widely from their traditions or histories.” This much was evident from Trump’s visit. Unlike Biden, Trump did not publicly raises human rights issues on his trip to China. This removed a persistent irritant in the relationship.

That said, the US Congress – and many of those around the president – still see the relationship with China as fundamentally competitive and adversarial. They want the US to remain the world’s primary power, militarily, economically and technologically. The desire to out-compete China is likely to drive policy in the longer-term.

The 2026 national defense strategy, published in January, states that Washington will be “clear-eyed and realistic about the speed, scale, and quality of China’s historic military buildup” and will “prevent anyone, including China, from being able to dominate us or our allies”. The strategy commits the US to deterring a Chinese invasion of Taiwan by keeping “a strong denial defense along the First Island Chain” north and south of Taiwan. The US secretary of state, Marco Rubio, who accompanied Trump to Beijing, confirmed that US policy on Taiwan has not changed as a result of the leaders’ meeting.

The Trump administration’s approach is driven primarily by economic interests. This is because it believes that “the Indo-Pacific will soon make up more than half of the global economy” and, according to the defense strategy: “Were China… to dominate this broad and crucial region, it would be able to effectively veto Americans’ access to the world’s economic center of gravity.”

This means the Trump administration will try to preserve the giant US military presence in Asia Pacific that the Chinese see as encirclement.

‘Conscious de-coupling’

The US president remains a mercurial character who can make unpredictable decisions. He likes to tout his prowess as a dealmaker and it is always possible that he could undermine the consensus view within his own government. But the US Congress is also firmly behind the drive to out-compete China and to “decouple” in advanced technology.

In July 2025, the bipartisan “One Big Beautiful Bill” Act (OBBBA) included US$58 billion (£43.5 billion) of federal investments in, and tax incentives for, AI production inside the US. These measures barred “prohibited foreign entities” from US supply chains. In 2018, Congress passed strict new export controls and investment restrictions into law to try to decouple from China in emerging new technologies. The House Select Committee on China is pushing for more of this.

Over the past year, the Trump administration launched a new strategy for rare earth metals. China’s dominance of the mining and processing of these metals is a huge advantage – they are critical to modern weapons systems and widely used in electronics, from smartphones to EVs.

In April 2025, Beijing began to impose export controls on rare earths in response to US tariffs. Since then, the US has launched a US$7.3 billion global effort to secure supplies of rare earths outside China and invest in domestic mining and processing capabilities. While this will take years to come to fruition, the goal is to speed up decoupling from China in rare earths – hardly a sign of trust.

Finally, Trump reportedly refused to extend the trade truce signed in October 2025 until the end of his administration as he believed he would lose leverage over China in future. It’s a clear sign that even he expects tension in future.

The Trump administration says that, unlike its predecessors, it is not looking for conflict with China. But its insistence on US dominance of Asia Pacific is likely to drive competition with China in the long-term.

The Conversation

Maria Ryan has received funding from the British Academy.

ref. Trump’s ‘cordial’ Beijing trip has not changed superpower rivalry – https://theconversation.com/trumps-cordial-beijing-trip-has-not-changed-superpower-rivalry-283107