By Eurasia Group analyst Jonas Horner

Nigeria -- an OPEC member, the world's fifth largest oil producer, and a major oil supplier for the United States -- has enough high quality crude in the ground to pump more than 3 million barrels per day. It's now producing about half that, because virtually all of that oil is located in or around the Niger Delta, a densely populated, marshy region along Nigeria's southern coastline. For many years, this area has been plagued by militant groups demanding that locals receive a larger share of oil revenue and criminal organizations that steal oil directly from local pipelines.

This is a growing problem for Nigeria's federal government, which finances 60 percent of its budget with the proceeds from oil exports. The conflict in the Delta costs the country's treasury billions each year, and in recent months, it has been digging into its considerable cash reserves to buoy a sinking currency and to stabilize a struggling economy. In addition, violence in the Delta has spread to other Gulf of Guinea states, like Equatorial Guinea, Togo, Cameroon, and Sao Tome and Principe.

To quell unrest and boost production, former President Olusegun Obasanjo and current president Umaru Yar'Adua have adopted strategies ranging from direct negotiation with the militants to all-out military assaults on them. Nothing has worked. Now the government is offering a 60-day amnesty to militants willing to trade their weapons for promises of immunity from prosecution and access to vocational training.

Why is the government offering an amnesty now? An intense military offensive in May drove armed groups from the western Delta, but it also made refugees of large numbers of civilians. That ensures that local communities will continue to provide a steady stream of young men ready to wield increasingly sophisticated weapons imported from dealers in the Balkans, the former Soviet Union, Ghana, and South Africa against Nigerian soldiers and foreign oil workers. Having scored a military victory, state officials claim, now is the time to offer members an incentive not to carry on the fight.

The government has budgeted for some 20,000 youths to participate in the vocational training program, and many will line up to take advantage of the benefits on offer. But the amnesty isn't going to work, because the government doesn't enjoy much credibility in the Niger Delta region, having failed for more than a decade to address the area's extreme poverty, and because the militants have good reason to accept the terms and to regroup to fight another day.

This is not the first time the government has offered amnesty. In 2004, the federal and local governments paid militants $2,800 for each surrendered weapon, regardless of quality or condition. At the time, a relatively new AK-47 cost about $350. Selling your old weapon for enough cash to buy eight new ones makes good economic (and military) sense.

The pricing equation was no accident. Several local governors wanted to buy a little near-term peace and quiet in the run-up to the 2007 elections. Once the votes were cast, some of these governors then cut deals with the most influential and cash-rich of the militant groups to use them for political purposes of their own.

The government's troubles became more serious with formation of the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND), a far more cohesive, well-armed, media-savvy and influential umbrella movement under which former militia members gathered following the government's quiet withdrawal from its amnesty duties. Unlike previous armed groups that acted nominally as ethnic militias, MEND multiplied its firepower by welcoming all ethnic groups into its fold.

That's where we are today. And that's why headlines suggesting that militants are accepting government offers of amnesty shouldn't encourage us to believe that Nigeria's central security challenge is any closer to resolution.

By Eurasia Group analyst Daniel Kerner

Argentina has seen better days.

Following a dramatic political and economic crisis in late 2001 and the largest sovereign default in recent economic history, Argentina enjoyed a remarkable economic recovery over the next several years. Under President Nestor Kirchner (2003-2007), a favorable international environment helped boost the country's economy at a record pace, enabling him to consolidate power and to become one of the most popular and successful presidents in Argentine history. His popularity (approval ratings of close to 70 percent for most of his mandate) allowed him to transfer political power to his wife, Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner, who was elected president by a comfortable margin in October 2007.

But the trouble began even before Nestor Kirchner stepped aside. Despite his political success, his government's reluctance to address rising inflation, unpaid external debt and energy shortages began to raise doubts over the sustainability of Argentina's growth. Inflation began to climb in 2005. The government responded with expansionary fiscal and monetary policies, manipulated inflation statistics, and heavy and sustained pressure on the private sector to keep prices low. Hopes that the Fernandez de Kirchner administration would more openly address these problems were quickly dashed.

But it was last year's four-month conflict with the farming sector over export taxes that delivered the heaviest blow to the Kirchners' popularity. The conflict began after the government sharply raised taxes on soybean exports and refused to reduce them despite massive protests. The taxes were repealed only after the senate voted against the government's proposal. The government's decision to shore up its fiscal position by nationalizing local pension funds further undermined confidence in both the government and in Argentina's economic prospects.

But it was last weekend's election results that finally closed the door on the Kirchner era in Argentine politics. Months ago, the Kirchners knew they had a fight on their hands. Afraid a bad economy would only get worse, the government surprised many observers by pushing forward the date of mid-term elections from October to June. Aware that even the earlier elections would leave them at a disadvantage in key electoral districts, the Kirchners upped the stakes. Nestor Kirchner himself announced that he would seek a lower house seat representing the province of Buenos Aires.

He lost. And the government lost its majority in both houses of congress. In fact, government candidates fell in most of the country's largest electoral districts, including the Capital, Buenos Aires, Cordoba, Entre Rios, Mendoza and Santa Fe.

The Kirchners were hoping to maintain what was left of their grip on the Peronist Party and to dominate the political agenda heading into the next presidential election in 2011. Instead, the sun rose Monday morning on a new set of opposition leaders, like Vice President Julio Cobos, Senator Carlos Reutemann, and Buenos Aires mayor Mauricio Macri, who are well positioned to challenge for the presidency in two years. The country's most powerful politician, Nestor Kirchner, resigned Monday as leader of the Peronist Party. Though two years remain in her presidency, Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner has become a lame duck.

The key economic policy question is whether the Kirchners, who have refused to negotiate or compromise with rivals both inside and outside the Peronist Party can navigate the newly treacherous political waters.

If so, they'll have to fundamentally shift the way they've done business for the past six years. That's why it probably won't happen -- and why Argentina's political and economic forecast will remain mostly cloudy until a new president is elected in 2011.

CLAUDIO SANTANA/AFP/Getty Images

By Ian Bremmer

The George W. Bush administration learned the limits of a policy approach to America's antagonists (like Iran and North Korea) that relies almost exclusively on political pressure and economic coercion. Even as Washington issued warning after warning, Iran made enormous progress toward a nuclear capability, and North Korea amassed a small nuclear arsenal.

But the Obama administration is now learning the limits of constructive engagement. Iran is ignoring U.S. calls for an end to a crackdown on Iranian demonstrators, and North Korea is threatening the United States with a "fire shower of nuclear retaliation." What do we learn from this? That, as time passes, U.S. policymakers have less and less ability to influence events within isolated countries and the choices made by their leaders.

In fact, events inside Iran over the past two weeks represent something close to a worst-case scenario for Washington. Since Obama became president, his tactical approach to Iran has been governed by a simple principle: Don't do or say anything that will help Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad use Washington to rally support. That was a wise choice, but one that came to nothing because, as Joseph Stalin once observed, "It's not he who votes that counts but he who counts the votes."

Obama responded to the stolen election and the protests that followed with characteristic caution, using vivid language of condemnation only after the level of violence in Tehran demanded it. But it will be harder now to make the deal he wants over Iran's nuclear program, because whatever he offers Iran will open him to charges of "appeasement," and because Iran's weakened government will likely respond to U.S. warnings with renewed belligerence.

On North Korea, whatever the president's approach, uncertainty within that country is generating a level of anti-American vitriol that's unusual even by North Korean standards. Kim Jong-Il has apparently tapped his 26 year-old son, Kim Jung Un, to succeed him. Whether this latest of the Kims will actually rule or the North Korean military will wield new power within a kind of dictatorship by committee, we can only guess. But it's clear that, for the moment, U.S. officials can plan for various contingencies and respond to events, but can't do much to influence what comes next.

The Obama approach to these problems is to try to keep as many options open as possible. That might help to protect him against the charges of hubris that rained down on Bush-era neocons, but it also allows others who don't play by the same rulebook to outmaneuver him. Political decision-makers inside Iran and North Korea are now defining the terms of their engagement with the United States.

By Ian Bremmer

Moisés Naím wisely warns us in his latest FP column that transnational problems are pressing just at a moment when multinational consensus on solutions has become nearly impossible to achieve. If 20 countries produce 85 percent of global GDP, 20 countries generate three-quarters of global greenhouse gasses, just 21 are directly concerned with nuclear non-proliferation, and 19 account for almost two-thirds of AIDS deaths, limiting negotiations over collective action to the smaller number of states needed for workable solutions makes good sense. But in today's geopolitical environment, 20 is still a very big number.

The ongoing economic meltdown has accelerated the inevitable transition from a G7 to a G20 world. Gone are the days when the United States, UK, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, and Canada could credibly claim global political and economic leadership. Today, no institution that excludes China, India, Russia, Brazil, and a few other emerging heavyweights can fully address the biggest international challenges.

But it's not simply that it's tougher to forge compromises with 20 negotiators at the table than with seven. It's that some of the new players have fundamental disagreements with the established powers on some very big questions -- like what role government should play in an economy. Agreements on managing transnational health crises, nuclear proliferation, regional security, or greenhouse gasses and global warming will involve complex policy solutions with direct impact on domestic economies.

Second, the new governments at the table are preoccupied with problems much closer to home-issues that can be addressed on a (relatively) more modest and manageable scale. China's political leadership, an increasingly indispensable player on several transnational problems, is far more concerned with domestic than with international challenges. Much of its foreign policy is intended to fuel the continuation of explosive domestic economic growth-and the millions of jobs it creates. Its rhetoric may be global, but its focus is more often regional. The governments of India, Russia, and Brazil are likewise intent on managing the impact of the global recession on their domestic economies and advancing their political interests within their immediate neighborhoods. That's why much of the forward movement on transnational issues will come from regional groupings like the European Union, the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN).

Some respected observers of international politics have called for a G2, a meeting of US and Chinese minds for the ultimate in minilateralist institutions. There are many reasons why this won't happen anytime soon-if ever. The Chinese leadership may enjoy such talk, but its most seasoned policymakers know well that China cannot yet afford to shoulder such burdens. Nor are Washington and Beijing likely to agree on how to solve many of these problems. And to reduce international consensus to two countries is to ignore the growing importance of many others.

In other words, Moisés is correct that 20 is a much more manageable magic number than 200. But these 20 are unlikely to accomplish big things for the foreseeable future.

By Eurasia Group analyst Cliff Kupchan

The Iranian regime controls the guns and has the support of at least 30 percent of the population. That's probably enough to reestablish dominance in the streets and to avoid compromise in the bitter conflict stemming from the country's presidential election. That said, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei has tied himself as never before to Iran's controversial president -- and therefore could become increasingly vulnerable over the next year.

The crackdown now playing across front pages all over the world looks to be led by the police and the Basij, the militia blamed for much of the current violence. But press reports suggest it may also include elements of the Revolutionary Guard, demonstrating clearly that the government now means to quell the protests as fully and quickly as possible. Eyewitnesses placed the crowds of pro-opposition protesters last week at more than 100,000, but over the past two days, the numbers in the streets of Tehran have become noticeably smaller.

Iran's government will likely regain control of the streets of Iranian cities. Violent repression will intimidate protestors, and the arrests of reformist leaders and continuing limitations on the internet and mobile phones makes organization of protests difficult. Importantly, the regime has far better control of police, military and security forces than did the governments of Georgia, Ukraine, and Lebanon -- the focal points for "color revolutions" of recent years.

There is a short-term and a serious longer-term threat to Iranian stability. The shorter-term threat is of a fracture within Iran's governing elite. One of Mousavi's most high-profile supporters is Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, the former president and current head of the Assembly of Experts, who currently appears to be working to build support among the clerical establishment in Qom. His precise intentions are unclear, but Rafsanjani's actions represent a larger fracture occurring within the Iranian regime between the militaristic Revolutionary Guard (which supports Khamenei and Ahmadinejad) and the clerics (who support the regime but were never enthusiastic about Khamenei's elevation to supreme leader or Ahmadinejad's presidency).

Another key powerbroker, Parliamentary Speaker Ali Larijani, said publicly on Sunday that "a majority of people are of the opinion that the actual election results are different than what was officially announced," and warned the supervisory Guardian Council, which has final authority to rule on election appeals, against siding with one candidate. He's also called for support for the government and attended the supreme leader's Friday sermon last week. But if Larijani and other pragmatic conservative political figures jump ship, the government's non-military base will narrow further.

There's a greater long-term threat: The Leader's legitimacy, and by extension that of the system, is in question for the first time. In the past, the supreme leader managed to remain above politics, entering the fray only to mediate or impose a compromise. But the firm public and personal support he has expressed for Ahmadinejad, including at Friday prayer last week, makes Khamenei a partisan, now firmly linked to Ahmadinejad. This means that the Supreme Leader will also be connected in an unprecedented way to the president's actions, including his failed economic policy and extremist foreign-policy rhetoric -- factors that have divided many Iranian conservatives and motivated many of the protesters. Also, by endorsing an almost certainly rigged election, the Leader has further reduced his legitimacy. The vote matters to Iranians; the veneer of democracy in the system is a matter of national pride, and the Leader's repudiation of it will hurt him.

Finally, the opposition has been very effective in using Islamic symbolism against the Islamic Republic, focusing most of its protest on honoring the dead, wearing green, shouting ‘God is Great' from rooftops, and using other tactics reminiscent of the 1979 revolution. Especially in that context, every death will undermine the Leader's moral standing and further weaken the regime's legitimacy over the longer term.

Iran's hardliners will likely win the current battle in the streets, but Khamenei and Ahmadinejad now have a longer-term legitimacy problem. Further, if the regime continues on its current course, Iran will increasingly become a garden-variety military dictatorship, which would make the regime's ability to absorb internal shocks -- whether from economic crisis or social instability -- far narrower. The outcome of Iran's broader and deeper conflict is farther from certain. Iranian stability is in play as never before.

ALI SAFARI/AFP/Getty Images