diplomacy

Fighting has escalated between Cambodia and Thailand, forcing hundreds of thousands of civilians to flee their homes on both sides of the neighbouring countries’ border.

Now, the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) is taking the lead in attempts to end the violence and reach a peace deal.

All this comes after an attempt by United States President Donald Trump to end the war failed.

The Thai and Cambodian foreign ministers are set to meet in the coming days in hopes of reaching what Thailand has called a “true ceasefire”.

But without any letup in the long-running conflict, what will it take to bring it to an end?

Presenter: Dareen Abughaida

Guests:

Chheang Vannarith – Chairman of Angkor Social Innovation Park and a former assistant to Cambodia’s defence minister in 2011 and 2012

Ilango Karuppannan – Adjunct senior fellow at the Nanyang Technological University and former Malaysian High Commissioner to Singapore

Phil Robertson – Director of Asia Human Rights Labour Advocates and former deputy director of Human Rights Watch’s Asia Division

WASHINGTON — As the dawn rose on President Trump’s second term, one key figure from his first administration stood back, content to focus on his personal business interests and not retake a formal government role.

Now, nearly a year into Trump 2.0, Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner has been drawn back into the foreign policy fold and is taking a greater role in delicate peace negotiations. Talks had initially been led almost solo by special envoy Steve Witkoff, a real estate mogul who had no government experience before this year.

The shift reflects a sense among Trump’s inner circle that Kushner, who has diplomatic experience, complements Witkoff’s negotiating style and can bridge seemingly intractable differences to close a deal, according to several current and former administration officials who, like others, spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss the internal deliberations.

That role was on display this weekend as Kushner and Witkoff took part in a blitz of diplomacy in Miami.

On Sunday, they concluded two days of talks with Russian negotiator Kirill Dmitriev in Miami on the latest proposals to end Russia’s war in Ukraine.

The talks with Dmitriev came after they met on Friday in Florida with the Ukrainian negotiating team, led by Rustem Umerov, as well as senior British, French and German national security officials. The Ukrainians and European officials stuck around Florida for more talks with U.S. government officials facilitated by Trump’s envoys.

Witkoff and Kushner also squeezed in meetings on Friday with Turkish and Qatari officials to discuss the fragile truce between Israel and Hamas in Gaza as they look to implement the second phase of Trump’s ceasefire plan.

Kushner and Witkoff employ contrasting styles

Witkoff, a longtime pal of Trump’s, is seen by some inside the administration as an oversize character who has traveled the world for diplomatic negotiations on his private jet and does not miss an opportunity to publicly praise the president for his foreign policy acumen, the officials say.

Kushner has his own complicated business interests in the Middle East and a sometimes transactional outlook to diplomacy that has distressed some officials in European capitals, a Western diplomat said.

Still, Kushner is seen as a more credible negotiator than Witkoff, who is viewed by many Ukrainian and European officials as overly deferential to Russian interests during the war that began with Moscow’s invasion in February 2022, the diplomat said.

“Kushner has a bit more of a track record from the first administration,” said Ian Kelly, a retired career diplomat and former U.S. ambassador to Georgia who now teaches diplomacy at Northwestern University. Kelly stressed, however, that the jury is still out on Kushner’s intervention.

Trump views Kushner as a “trusted family member and talented adviser” who has played a pivotal role in some of his biggest foreign policy successes, said White House deputy press secretary Anna Kelly.

Trump and Witkoff “often seek Mr. Kushner’s input given his experience with complex negotiations, and Mr. Kushner has been generous in lending his valuable expertise when asked,” Kelly added.

State Department spokesman Tommy Pigott called Kushner “a world-class negotiator.” Pigott noted that Secretary of State Marco Rubio is grateful for Kushner’s “willingness to serve our country and help President Trump solve some of the world’s most complex challenges.”

In an interview with CBS’ “60 Minutes” in October, Kushner spoke about his unconventional approach to diplomacy.

“I was trained in foreign policy really in President Trump’s first term by seeing an outsider president come into Washington with a different school of foreign policy than had been brought in place for the 20 or 30 years prior,” he said.

But some Democrats and government oversight groups have expressed skepticism about Kushner’s role in shaping the administration policies in the Middle East while he manages billions of dollars in investments, including from Saudi Arabia and Qatar’s sovereign wealth funds through his firm, Affinity Partners.

Similarly, Witkoff has faced scrutiny for his and his family’s deep business ties to Gulf nations. Witkoff last year partnered with members of Trump’s family to launch a cryptocurrency company, World Liberty Financial, which received a $2 billion investment from a United Arab Emirates-controlled wealth fund.

“What people call conflicts of interests, Steve and I call experience and trusted relationships that we have throughout the world,” said Kushner, who is not drawing a salary from the White House for his advisory role.

White House counsel David Warrington said in a statement that Kushner’s efforts for Trump “are undertaken in full compliance with the law.”

“Given that Jared Kushner was a critical part of the efforts leading to the historic Abraham Accords and other diplomatic successes in the first Trump Administration, the President asked Mr. Kushner to be available as the President engages in similar efforts to bring peace to the world,” Warrington said in a statement, referring to Trump’s first-term effort that normalized relations between Israel and several Arab nations. “Mr. Kushner has agreed to do so in his capacity as a private citizen.”

Kelly and other veterans of U.S. diplomatic encounters with the Russians over many years are also skeptical about Kushner’s ability to secure a Russia-Ukraine deal because Witkoff technically remains in the lead.

“I don’t see that the Witkoff approach is going to work,” Kelly said. “He doesn’t really read the Russians well. He misunderstands what they say and reports the misunderstandings back to Washington and the Europeans.”

“They seem to have this idea that the magic key is money: investment and development,” Kelly said. “But these guys don’t care about that, they are not real estate guys except in the sense that they want the land, period.”

Kushner was out of the spotlight until he wasn’t

For the first half of the year, Kushner stayed out of the spotlight, even as he pushed, unsuccessfully in some cases, to install some former associates — those with whom he worked on negotiating the Abraham Accords — into powerful roles in the new administration, according to the current and former administration officials.

Kushner had told Trump and others that while he would not be joining the second-term White House, he stood ready to offer his counsel if it was desired. That is a role he also played on a few occasions during the Biden years as the Democratic administration tried, without success, to expand the Abraham Accords.

Although Kushner remained an informal sounding board for Trump and top advisers, he resisted getting directly involved, even as the president expanded his peacemaking pursuits, until it became clear to him and others that the job might be too much for Witkoff to seal on his own, the officials said.

As Trump’s efforts to forge an agreement to end the Israel-Hamas war in Gaza faltered over the summer, Kushner came in, trading on his experience and contacts in negotiating the Abraham Accords to help Witkoff push Trump’s plan over the finish line.

Agreed to in late September after frantic talks surrounding the annual U.N. General Assembly, the 20-point plan is still a work in progress, but its implementation is being coordinated by Kushner and numerous members of his Abraham Accords team.

“We always bring Jared when we want to get that deal closed,” Trump told Israel’s parliament, the Knesset, shortly after the agreement. “We need that brain on occasion.”

As soon as the Gaza plan was finalized, Kushner said he was returning to his family and day job in Miami, where he heads a multibillion-dollar private equity firm. His involvement in high-stakes peacemaking was only temporary, Kushner said, joking that his wife, Ivanka, might change the locks if he did not get home soon.

“I’m gonna try to help set it up, and then I’m gonna hopefully go back to my normal life,” Kushner said in October.

But within weeks of shepherding the Gaza ceasefire, Trump turned again to his fixer-in-law to dive into the Russia-Ukraine negotiations. They had been deadlocked for months despite persistent efforts by the White House to lure both Russian President Vladimir Putin and Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelensky into an agreement.

Trump hinted then that he would continue to lean on Kushner when the stakes are highest, just as he has done.

Lee and Madhani write for the Associated Press.

The Eurovision likes to sell itself as a glittering exercise in European unity, colorful, loud, proudly diverse, and (officially) above politics. Yet anyone who has watched the contest with both eyes open knows that “apolitical” has always been more of a brand promise than a lived reality. In late 2025, that gap widened into a full-blown crisis, as a number of broadcasters reported across outlets that Spain, Ireland, Slovenia, the Netherlands, and Iceland signaled they would not take part in Eurovision 2026 after the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) decided not to exclude Israel amid the ongoing war in Gaza, Palestine.

This episode is not simply “politics invading culture.” It reflects a shift in how legitimacy is demanded and contested in Europe’s cultural diplomacy, particularly when public broadcasters operate under constant online scrutiny. A constructivist lens helps explain why withdrawal can become socially “appropriate” not only because of interests, but because identities, norms, and public expectations set the boundaries of acceptable action.

Eurovision’s political DNA

Eurovision was launched in 1956 as a post-war cultural bridge. Its origin story is important: a shared stage was meant to build familiarity, and familiarity was meant to soften rivalry. That heritage still shapes the contest’s self-image. But Eurovision has long functioned as a stage where politics appears in coded ways through voting patterns, representation debates, and symbolic messaging.

In 2026, the argument is no longer coded. The EBU’s insistence that Eurovision must remain apolitical is being tested by publics who increasingly expect cultural institutions to reflect basic humanitarian values. This tension has been building for years, but the Palestine crisis and the EBU’s decisions have turned it into a legitimacy problem, not merely a public relations headache.

Why withdrawal became “appropriate”

Constructivism in international relations focuses on how identities and norms shape behavior. States and national institutions do not act only from material interests; they also act from what is socially acceptable, what fits their self-image, and the expectations of their audiences.

Three dynamics stand out.

Identity signalling, domestically and externally

For several withdrawing countries, participation carried an identity cost. Public broadcasters—especially those that see themselves as guardians of civic values—operate within national narratives about solidarity, rights, and moral responsibility. Remaining in the contest while public debate framed Israel’s participation as incompatible with humanitarian concerns risked looking like complicity or indifference. Withdrawal, by contrast, functioned as a signal: this is who we are, and this is the line we will not cross.

Importantly, this signalling was not addressed only to external audiences. It was also addressed inward towards domestic publics, artists, and civil society networks. In many European societies, those constituencies are no longer passive consumers of cultural events; they are active participants in the reputational economy surrounding public institutions.

Norm cascades and moral momentum

Once a few broadcasters moved towards withdrawal, the decision quickly gained social momentum. This is what Finnemore and Sikkink described as a “norm cascade”: when a norm shifts from being optional to being expected, and the reputational cost of non-compliance rises. In practical terms, it can start to feel safer to leave than to stay—because staying invites condemnation, while leaving can be framed as moral coherence.

This is also why the dispute escalated so quickly. A single broadcaster withdrawing is a story. Multiple broadcasters withdrawing is a pattern, and patterns trigger moral comparisons. The question changes from “Why did they leave?” to “Why are you still staying?”

The ‘apolitical’ norm is under strain because it looks selective.

The apolitical claim does not collapse simply because people become more emotional. It collapses when it appears inconsistent. Critics repeatedly pointed to Russia’s exclusion in 2022 after the invasion of Ukraine and asked why a different standard was being applied now. The EBU, for its part, has emphasized the contest’s non-political ethos and introduced new rules aimed at insulating Eurovision from government influence.

But in the public sphere, the argument is not purely procedural. It is moral and comparative: if Eurovision can act decisively in one case, why not in another?

Constructivism predicts that institutions struggle when the norms they rely on no longer align with the moral intuitions of their audiences. That is exactly what this crisis reveals.

Digital activism as a legitimacy engine

If this controversy had happened twenty years ago, it would likely have moved more slowly, mediated by newspapers and official statements. Today it unfolds in a real-time digital public sphere where narratives travel quickly across borders and reputational costs escalate fast. Online mobilization—through petitions, artist statements, and hashtag campaigns—helped turn Eurovision into a symbolic battleground, pressuring broadcasters to respond to highly visible moral claims.

Two effects matter most. First, digital dynamics accelerate moral consolidation, which means once “selective neutrality” becomes a dominant frame, hesitation itself is read as a political stance. Second, institutions face continuous visibility. Decisions are no longer a single event but an ongoing justification process, renewed by viral moments and high-profile protest actions linked to Israel’s inclusion.

For cultural diplomacy, this shifts the logic of soft power from image-making towards moral credibility under public scrutiny.

Withdrawal as cultural diplomacy

Withdrawal from Eurovision is, in a strict sense, symbolic. But symbolism is precisely what cultural diplomacy trades in. The act of leaving, particularly when done by public broadcasters, served three strategic functions.

First, moral signalling, which meansbroadcasters and states communicated alignment with humanitarian values and a refusal to normalize perceived injustice.

The second one is reputation management.  In a digital environment, silence can be more costly than action. Withdrawal can reduce domestic backlash and preserve trust in public institutions.

Last, this is ethical positioning as soft power.  The logic of soft power is shifting from colorful branding to ethical coherence. A state may gain credibility not by appearing “fun,” but by appearing consistent with its professed values.

These functions help explain why the controversy is bigger than Eurovision. What is being tested is the idea that cultural platforms can remain insulated from global crises. Many audiences no longer accept that separation.

The EBU’s dilemma: rules, legitimacy, and consistency

The EBU now sits at the center of competing demands. On one side is the institutional need for predictability: rules that keep Eurovision from becoming an arena for state-to-state confrontation. On the other side is the public demand for moral consistency: rules that do not appear selective or politically convenient.

The EBU’s recent approach of avoiding an immediate exclusion decision while adjusting rules—may be defensible from a governance perspective.

Yet governance solutions do not automatically restore legitimacy, because legitimacy is also emotional and relational. It depends on whether audiences believe the institution is acting in good faith and applying standards fairly.

This is where cultural diplomacy meets a hard truth: neutrality is not simply declared; it is earned. And in the digital age, it is re-earned continuously.

What this means for Europe’s cultural diplomacy

Three implications stand out.

First, moral expectation is becoming structural.  European publics increasingly demand moral coherence not only from governments but from cultural institutions as well. Cultural diplomacy is being asked to carry ethical weight.

Second, “European values” are being operationalized. They are no longer abstract slogans. They are used as benchmarks to judge institutions and to accuse them of hypocrisy when they fall short.

Third, public opinion has become a strategic force, not background noise.  Digital mobilization can shape state behavior indirectly by pressuring broadcasters, artists, and institutions that sit at the heart of national identity.

Policy takeaways

If the EBU seeks to protect Eurovision’s legitimacy without turning it into a geopolitical tribunal, three steps would help. First, it should clarify participation principles by defining what “neutrality” means operationally and what thresholds trigger institutional action. Second, it should build a credible consistency mechanism, as audiences will continue comparing cases and demanding transparent reasoning. Third, the EBU should treat the digital sphere as part of governance: proactive engagement and rapid clarification now shape institutional survival as much as formal rule-making.

Conclusion

Eurovision 2026 is not simply a cultural controversy with political noise attached. It is a case study in how identity, norms, and digital activism are reshaping Europe’s cultural diplomacy. Constructivism helps explain why withdrawal became not only possible but, for some, necessary: it aligned state-linked institutions with the moral expectations of their publics.

Eurovision was built to bridge Europe after war. Ironically, its newest crisis shows that unity today is conditional: audiences increasingly expect cultural institutions to be transparent, consistent, and ethically credible, especially when global suffering is impossible to ignore.