Subscribe to our weekly newsletters for free

Subscribe to an email

If you want to subscribe to World & New World Newsletter, please enter
your e-mail

Diplomacy
UAE planes drop humanitarian aid on displaced people's tents in Al-Mawasi, west of Khan Yunis city in the southern Gaza Strip, on Oct 17, 2024.

New peace plan increases pressure on Israel and US as momentum grows for Palestinian statehood

by Scott Lucas

A new vision for Middle East peace emerged this week which proposes the withdrawal of Israel from Gaza and the West Bank, the disarming and disbanding of Hamas and the creation of a unified Palestinian state. The plan emerged from a “high-level conference” in New York on July 29, which assembled representatives of 17 states, the European Union and the Arab League. The resulting proposal is “a comprehensive and actionable framework for the implementation of the two-state solution and the achievement of peace and security for all”. Signatories include Turkey and the Middle Eastern states of Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Egypt and Jordan. Europe was represented by France, Ireland, Italy, Norway, Spain and the UK. Indonesia was there for Asia, Senegal for Africa, and Brazil, Canada and Mexico for the Americas. Neither the US nor Israel were present. Significantly, it is the first time the Arab states have called for Hamas to disarm and disband. But, while condemning Hamas’s attack on Israel of October 7 2023 and recalling that the taking of hostages is a violation of international law, the document is unsparing in its connection between a state of Palestine and an end to Israel’s assault on Gaza’s civilians. It says: “Absent decisive measures toward the two-state solution and robust international guarantees, the conflict will deepen and regional peace will remain elusive.” A plan for the reconstruction of Gaza will be developed by the Arab states and the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation – a Jeddah-based group which aims to be the collective voice of the Muslim world – supported by an international fund. The details will be hammered out at a Gaza Reconstruction and Recovery Conference, to be held in Cairo. It is a bold initiative. In theory, it could end the Israeli mass killing in Gaza, remove Hamas from power and begin the implementation of a process for a state of Palestine. The question is whether it has any chance of success. First, there appears to be growing momentum to press ahead with recognition of the state of Palestine as part of a comprehensive peace plan leading to a two-state solution. France, the UK and, most recently, Canada have announced they would take that step at the UN general assembly in September. The UK stated that it would do so unless Israel agreed to a ceasefire and the commencement of a substantive peace process. These announcements follow those made in May 2024 by Spain, Ireland and Norway, three of the other European signatories. By the end of September at least 150 of the UN’s 193 members will recognise Palestinian statehood. Recognition is largely symbolic without a ceasefire and Israeli withdrawal from both Gaza and the West Bank. But it is essential symbolism. For years, many European countries, Canada, Australia and the US have said that recognition could not be declared if there was the prospect of Israel-Palestine negotiations. Now the sequence is reversed: recognition is necessary as pressure for a ceasefire and the necessary talks to ensure the security of both Israelis and Palestinians. Israel accelerated that reversal at the start of March, when it rejected the scheduled move to phase two of the six-week ceasefire negotiated with the help of the US, and imposed a blockade on aid coming into the Strip. The Netanyahu government continues to hold out against the ceasefire. But its loud blame of Hamas is becoming harder to accept. The images of the starvation in Gaza and warnings by doctors, humanitarian organisations and the UN of an effective famine with the deaths of thousands can no longer be denied. Saudi Arabia and Qatar, behind the scenes and through their embassies, have been encouraging European countries to make the jump to recognition. Their efforts at the UN conference in New York this week are another front of that campaign. Israel and the Trump administration But in the short term, there is little prospect of the Netanyahu government giving way with its mass killing, let alone entering talks for two states. Notably neither Israel nor the US took part in the conference. Trump has criticised the scenes of starvation in Gaza. But his administration has joined Netanyahu in vitriolic denunciation of France and the UK over their intentions to recognise Palestine. And the US president has warned the Canadian prime minister, Mark Carney, that recognition of Palestinian statehood would threaten Canada’s trade deal with the US. In response to Trump’s concern over the images of starving children and his exhortation “We’ve got to get the kids fed,” Israel has airdropped a few pallets of aid – less than a truck’s worth. Yet this appears more of a public relations exercise directed at Washington than a genuine attempt to ease the terrible condition on the Strip. A small number of lorries with supplies from UN and humanitarian organisations have also crossed the border, but only after lengthy delays and with half still held up. There is no security for transport and delivery of the aid inside Gaza. A sacrifice for a state? So the conference declaration is not relief for Gaza. Instead, it is yet another marker of Israel’s increasing isolation. After France’s announcement, the Netanyahu government thundered: “Such a move rewards terror and risks creating another Iranian proxy … A Palestinian state in these conditions would be a launch pad to annihilate Israel.” But while recognising Hamas’s mass killing of October 7 2023, most governments and their populations do not perceive Israel as attacking Hamas and its fighters. They see the Netanyahu government and Israeli military slaying and starving civilians. Even in the US, where the Trump administration is trying to crush sympathy for Palestine and Gazans in universities, non-governmental organisations and the public sphere, opinion is shifting. In a Gallup poll taken in the US and released on July 29, only 32% of respondents supported Israel’s actions in Gaza – an all-time low – and 60% opposed them. Netanyahu was viewed unfavourably by 52% and favourably by only 29%. Israel has lost its moment of “normalisation” with Arab states. Its economic links are strained and its oft-repeated claim to being the “Middle East’s only democracy” is bloodstained beyond recognition. This will be of no comfort to the people of Gaza facing death. But in the longer term, there is the prospect that this sacrifice will be the catalyst to recognise Palestine that disappeared in 1948.

Diplomacy
Create a sleek, futuristic background for a technology summit, featuring a glowing digital map of africa on a blue background. the design should include modern tech elements like neon circuits, digital grids, and abstract data streams, all in vibrant

The politics of locationality: Interrogating AI development, locational (dis)advantage and governance in Africa

by Vincent Obia

Abstract The paper considers the question of location in the development and governance of artificial intelligence in Africa. The discussion draws from ideas on locational advantage and the mix of factors that affect inequalities in AI development and how this influences the ability that countries have to shape AI norms, cultures and governance. It analyses policy documents and internet databases to highlight Africa’s place in AI development, the continent’s governance approach and the symbiotic relationship that explains the influence of advanced countries and tech corporations in the AI landscape. Based on this, it proposes the concept of the ‘politics of locationality’ to extend our understanding of how the power resident in AI systems is associated with their primary situatedness and how this reality, in turn, (re)produces imbalances and unequal opportunities for Africa in AI development and governance. It concludes with implications for Africa’s contribution to global AI cultures, design and governance at this time of pressing need for well-balanced AI policies. KeywordsAI governance, culture, ethics, inequality, locational advantage, politics of locationality Introduction The race for supremacy in AI development and governance has gathered pace among leading countries such as the US, European nations and China (Bradford, 2023). Many of the largest AI companies and models trace their origins to these countries and benefit from massive investments in computing, data and skills (Moorosi, 2024). By contrast, African countries mainly boast of AI startup ecosystems coordinated by technology hubs such as Kenya’s ‘Silicon Savannah’ (Eke et al., 2023) and African journalists have had to grapple with tools like ChatGPT, given the relevance of generative AI for media production (Gondwe, 2023). Although many of these experiences show Africa’s creative potential in the AI sector, as well as its growing market for AI technologies and tools (Okolo et al., 2023), there remain complex historical, cultural, political, legal, economic, labour and data factors that the continent faces in its drive towards AI development and governance. This mix of factors is a subject that scholars have considered to varying degrees (Muldoon and Wu, 2023; Png, 2022). I build on this by examining the question of locationality within that mix and how locationality helps to explain aspects of the symbiotic relationship between countries and platforms in shaping AI design and governance principles within a global context. My discussion sits at the intersection of critical media studies (Ott and Mack, 2014), digital geopolitics (Wong, 2021) and AI studies (Crawford, 2021), seeking to demonstrate why AI, understood as a political tool for constructing knowledge and generating maps of meaning, should be situated. This focus on situatedness further ties into studies on economic geography and locational advantage (Dunning, 1998; Iammarino and McCann, 2013), which explain why multinationals such as AI companies are more likely to choose certain locations as headquarters and how these locations are better placed to acquire greater leverage and power. It relates to the understanding that the location where a technology company is headquartered has considerable influence to shape that company’s decisions (Sargsyan, 2016), presupposing that advanced AI development confers locational advantage on the place where this development is primarily domiciled, making it a locus of power in shaping global AI ethics, norms and governance. This presupposition is what I interrogate by asking: How do issues around the location of AI development explain the impact that African countries have to shape AI design, cultures and governance in light of inequalities between advanced nations and the majority world? This question is crucial as it indicates which countries are better positioned as key definers of AI at a time when the design, norms, ethics, principles and governance of the technology are being concretised. It also leads to my argument on what I call the ‘politics of locationality’ as a concept to advance our understanding of how the primary situatedness of leading AI companies in advanced locations (such as the Global North) reveals inequalities in AI development and governance in the majority world. In this paper, advanced locations refer to the US, Europe and China – following Bradford’s (2023) description of them as the three digital empires, having the capacity not only to define the digital ecosystem in line with their cultures and priorities, but also shape the digital values of other countries that fall under their influence. The discussion that follows flows through a review of the literature, my methodology and findings, culminating in my argument on the politics of locationality. Locationality and the mix of factors in AI development Across the AI landscape, ethical principles are vital because they guide AI development, design and governance (Tidjon and Khomh, 2022). In Africa, some of the ethical and cultural values that researchers contend should guide AI development include ubuntu (communal humaneness), humanism and indigenous knowledge (Nayebare, 2019; Mhlambi and Tiribelli, 2023). Not enough of this has been realised, however, given that AI technologies on the continent remain a largely Western import (Eke et al., 2023). Nonetheless, home-grown African AI systems have been on the rise, evident in the creation of technology centres such as Kenya’s ‘Silicon Savannah’, Ethiopia’s ‘Sheba Valley’ and Nigeria’s ‘Yabacon Valley’ (Eke et al., 2023). The centres serve as ecosystems that provide leverage for AI startups that are supported by communities such as Data Science Nigeria and Deep Learning Indaba (Nuwer, 2024). Okolo et al. (2023) found that there are at least 102 of these startups in Africa. But they face challenges ranging from limited infrastructure for energy and computing-intensive technology and lack of expertise (Nuwer, 2024). These challenges presuppose that AI development on the continent is likely to lag behind global advancements – with implications for the influence that the continent has as a place from which AI norms, ethics and governance are shaped. The US remains a dominant player in shaping AI ethics and governance. Chan et al. (2021), for instance, observe that the US is predominant in the AI development space, in line with its economic and cultural dominance and China follows closely behind, pointing to a US-China tech war in digital geopolitics (Wong, 2021). China, in particular, has exported AI facial recognition and smart city technologies to Africa, serving as the continent’s largest foreign ICT investor (Lin, 2024), with increasing access to African datasets (Okolo et al., 2023) – a worrying trend. Also, investments in AI still concentrate in countries like the US and China, with only 1% of global venture capital flows into Africa (Moorosi, 2024). This means profits from AI development are typically reinvested in the leading countries, creating further disparities between them and the majority world (Chan et al., 2021). Although major tech companies (e.g. Google and Microsoft) have invested in Africa by establishing AI labs in African countries, Chan et al. (2021) note that it is common for staff working in these labs to be based in advanced countries. These major AI companies have also diversified their locational presence by outsourcing some operations through an international division of labour across Africa. But they tend to do so in exploitative ways such as hiring low-wage data annotators, highlighting the continent’s locational disadvantage (Ludec et al., 2023). What this points to is the relation of labour and capital, which further underscores Muldoon and Wu’s (2023) description of the global AI supply chain as colonial, since it is actualised through an international division of digital labour that extracts value from labour in the majority world for the benefit of Western technological companies. It also reinforces hegemonic knowledge production through Western values and knowledge that marginalise non-Western alternatives (Muldoon and Wu, 2023). This hegemonic knowledge production leads to questions on the role of the human in the machine, since AI is not based on abstract models, but is embedded in human agency and cultural values (Natale and Guzman, 2022). Additionally, this hegemonic knowledge production not only ties into discourses on power in critical media studies (Ott and Mack, 2014), but also on the relevance of AI for creative and cultural work (Lee, 2022) – as seen in the use of ChatGPT, which, African journalists say, is built on a poor and non-representative African corpus and perpetuates stereotypes of the continent (Gondwe, 2023). What the foregoing, therefore, indicates are the mix of historical, technological, economic, labour and cultural factors that underpin AI development and deployment in Africa’s locational context, with implications for governance outcomes. AI governance and digital regulation in Africa In terms of governance, state actors in Africa have drawn up policy and legal instruments at local levels and are only just taking part in global multistakeholder conversations. Examples of these multistakeholder fora include the AI Governance Alliance of the World Economic Forum (2025), where three African countries (Rwanda, South Africa and Kenya) are represented and the Global Partnership on Artificial Intelligence (2025), where Senegal is the only African country. It is unclear what influence African countries wield in multistakeholder bodies like these, but the indication is that inclusion is usually performative and exists for ‘virtue signalling and promotional purposes’ (Png, 2022: para. 17). At continental and regional levels, Plantinga et al. (2024) observe that African countries have increasingly turned towards AI strategies, but without considering how feasible these are to implement and their suitability to local contexts. There are also data localisation laws, which stipulate that data be stored and processed in the location where they are generated, with restrictions on data transfers across borders (Giovane et al., 2023). These laws, which point to the geographical relevance of data, have been introduced by at least 16 African countries, including Mauritius, Lesotho and Ivory Coast; they are also present in legal instruments on data protection, financial transactions, cybersecurity and telecommunications in several countries across the continent (CIPESA, 2022). Locationality is therefore the underlying principle in data localisation, underscoring the importance of data for AI control and governance. Sargsyan (2016: 2224), for instance, notes: ‘countries that host intermediaries’ data centres and offices have more opportunities to exercise influence over companies’ decisions and claim jurisdiction over data stored in their territory.’ What is crucial here is the presence of data centres which is vital for AI production, and African countries face challenges in relation to data, since the continent’s data centre landscape is nascent although growing (DCByte, 2023). When it comes to enforcement, only a few countries have been successful in imposing local laws and claiming jurisdiction over data stored in data centres, the most successful being the US (Sargsyan, 2016: 2231). This underscores the difficulties of AI policy implementation that African governments face, since, as CIPESA (2022) notes, there is barely any evidence that data localisation laws have been enforced in Africa. Where implementation has been more practicable is in the imposition of internet taxes on users in countries like Guinea, Benin, Uganda and Zimbabwe (Bergére, 2019). The infrastructure platforms through which governments enforce the taxes are local Internet Service Providers (ISPs) and telecommunication providers (Bergére, 2019). The same process finds expression in the imposition of internet bans in Africa – enforcement targets usage disruption and is done through local ISPs (Parks and Thompson, 2020). African countries ordinarily enjoy a positive balance of power in comparison with local ISPs. Also, the fact that major tech and AI companies can be banned from operating or delivering services in any African country points to the power that the state has to impose controls as a means of last resort. Users can also deploy collective action against AI companies (Fratini and Musiani, 2024). All these highlight the diverse ways in which power and governance are contested at local levels but say little about the place that Africa holds in contributing to and shaping AI ethics, governance and worldviews in the global sense. If, as Sargsyan (2016) notes, the location where a technology company is headquartered has significant powers to influence the decisions of the technology company, then what does Africa’s record in AI development imply for its ability to shape AI design, ethics, cultures and governance? This question is what I aim to answer in interrogating the relevance of the politics of locationality for AI in Africa. Method To this end, I draw from a methodological approach informed by textual analysis of AI policy documents and critical analysis of internet databases containing the location associated with AI companies/models. For the AI policy documents, I focussed on three domains. The first domain concerned the AI policies of African countries, where I selected the AI Strategies of four countries: Mauritius (Mauritius AI Strategy, 2018), Egypt (Egypt AI Strategy, 2021), Rwanda (Rwandan National AI Policy, 2022) and Nigeria [draft] (Nigerian AI Strategy, 2024), representing South, North, East and West Africa respectively. I also reviewed the African Union’s (2024) AI Strategy. Mauritius, Egypt and Rwanda are particularly relevant because they are the first three countries to introduce AI strategies in Africa. I chose AI strategies because they comprise one of the major emphases for policymakers on the continent (Maslej et al., 2024). I analyse the strategies based on themes, which I developed after reviewing and coding the texts. The second domain included the AI policies of leading global players in AI: the US, EU and China. Here, my analysis aimed to ascertain whether these policies mandate AI firms to develop their technologies in line with principles and standards upheld by the leading countries. The third domain included the policies of some of the largest AI companies/models: OpenAI and Gemini (for the US), Darktrace (for the UK) and UBTECH and Qwen (for China). My aim was to examine whether these AI companies/models subject their policies and practices to the countries or places where they are headquartered. For the database searches, I accessed and reviewed the following to ascertain the location of AI companies globally: Datamation (see Jungco, 2024), AI Directory (2024) and the Companies Market Capitalisation (2024). I also drew from sources such as Epoch AI (2024), the Emerging Technology Observatory’s (2024) AI Country Activity Tracker and the AI Index Report (Maslej et al., 2024). Overall, my goal was to assess Africa’s place in AI development in comparison with the leading countries in AI before considering the leverage that locationality affords to nations when it comes to AI design, ethics and governance – the underlying premise for the politics of locationality. Locational advantage and AI development in Africa While acknowledging the mix of factors that comprise AI development, my findings focus on locationality by considering the number of AI companies headquartered in Africa and elsewhere. Here, I found that most AI companies are headquartered in advanced countries, with many of the largest AI companies being in the US. These are companies that have significant capitalisation as listed on the Companies Market Cap to scale globally and invest in AI infrastructure and models that fundamentally impact societies. Jungco’s (2024) review shows that the overwhelming majority (80%) of these companies are based in the US (81 out of 101 companies). The closest to this was the UK, which had eight companies out of 101. India and Canada had three each; China and Germany had two each; and Israel and Hong Kong had one each. The same is true for data compiled by AI Directory (2024) and the Companies Market Capitalisation (2024). I compiled the three listings (Jungco, 2024; AI Directory and the Companies Market Cap) and removed duplicates. The combined list comprised 234 of the largest AI companies (see Table 1), ranging from Apple valued at $3.3 trillion to FR8Tech valued at $2.1 million. The outcome shows that at 73%, the US is the undoubted leader. It is followed by India (5.98%), the UK (5.56%), China (2.99%) and Canada (2.56%). There is no African country on the list.   There is a similar outcome for data on notable AI models, such as OpenAI’s ChatGPT, Alibaba’s Qwen and Meta’s Llama. Table 2 shows that, when isolating for AI models owned by organisations or entities that come from only one country, two-thirds (67.7%) of these notable AI models are traceable to the US. Again, no other country comes close; the closest countries are the UK, China, Canada and Germany. Maslej et al. (2024), in the AI Index, also show that foundation AI models, which are the basis for generative AI, are far more prevalent in the US. Again, there are no entries for Africa.   If Africa does not serve as a headquarter for the largest AI companies or models, what then can be said about AI startups? To answer this, I consulted the 2024 AI Country Activity Tracker, which presents data on the number of approved AI patents based on country locations, including patents for AI startups. The data, presented in Table 3, show that Africa is only ahead of the Middle East; even at this, Africa accounts for only 0.000006% or 157 of the 250,224 AI patents captured in the tracker. And only three African countries account for the continent’s figures: South Africa (139 patents), Morocco (17 patents) and Kenya (1 patent). Although this figure of 157 is slightly more than the 102 startups that Okolo et al. (2023) provided, the conclusions are similar: Africa has some way to go in making up for AI development in the future.   All these show that although Africa provides labour and data for AI companies globally and is poised to be a significant market as internet connectivity spreads (Access Partnership, 2024), it barely serves as a headquarter for AI companies, particularly the largest ones. This underscores Africa’s nascent standing in AI development and suggests that African countries will likely be constrained in their ability to shape wider AI ethics, cultures and governance. It perhaps explains why no African country has passed AI legislation into law (although some attempts are underway), with focus instead on AI task forces, national policies and strategies (Maslej et al., 2024). I turn next to the analysis of these strategies to examine the policy approach to AI development and governance in Africa. Analysing AI strategies in Africa My analysis of the AI strategies/policies of Mauritius, Egypt, Rwanda, Nigeria and the AU shows that they coalesce around four main themes: AI adoption for economic growth, AI partnership and collaboration, improving AI ethics and governance and strengthening local AI capacity. The focus on AI for economic growth is understandable, given that AI’s potential for economic transformation is a major attraction. This focus, which is present in all the strategies, highlights how AI can enhance economic development in various sectors (see in particular, the Mauritian Strategy). But more important, in the context of my discussion, are the inequalities in international cooperation and multistakeholder governance that the strategies point towards. To establish this, I refer to Pillar Two of the Nigerian AI Strategy, which underscores the need for partnership and collaboration among local and international stakeholders to leverage AI expertise and resources. The Rwandan AI Policy also recommends international partnerships and collaboration in AI development. But collaborations, especially with international private actors, highlight the need to evaluate where the major partners come from. These partners can collaborate with African countries and invest in AI, but they still operate primarily by rules set in their home countries, even if they also subscribe to laws in subsidiary countries (I establish this point in the next section). The exception would be collaboration within the continent, as can be found in the Egyptian and AU Strategies. The third theme, which focusses on ethics and governance, acknowledges the risks of AI and the need to mitigate them. It considers the importance of having AI principles such as fairness, transparency and accountability (see the Nigerian Strategy). The AU Strategy also mentions the need to guard against bias and risks to African values, indigenous knowledge and cultural heritage. This is connected to the AU’s Agenda 2063, which has a media and culture mandate to support inclusive and ethical AI through values such as ubuntu. But the plan to address these risks, for the most part, points to multistakeholder governance. The Egyptian Strategy, for instance, seeks to ‘actively contribute to global efforts and playing an active role in AI in different international fora’ (Section 5.1). Rwanda’s Policy also intends to ‘actively contribute to shaping responsible AI principles and practices in international platforms’ (Key Policy Recommendation 14). Likewise, the AU Strategy promotes a ‘multi-tiered governance approach’ (Section 2.4.1). They highlight a move towards greater inclusivity in international governance – hence the use of the word ‘actively’ in many of the strategies. My point, however, is that no matter how ‘actively’ African countries intend to influence AI cooperation, ethics and governance, there is a need to first reckon with Africa’s standing in AI development. Policymakers on the continent seem to have recognised this reality, and it is noticeable in their focus on strengthening local AI capacity. The AU Strategy, for instance, notes that Africa faces challenges around lack of computing platforms, limited data for training AI models and a scarce supply of AI skills, observing that, as of 2023, all the world’s supercomputers are located in only 30 countries. The Nigerian Strategy also recognises the need to build ‘affordable and localised infrastructure foundations and the compute capacity’ (Section 1.4.2) by making high-performance computing available. In Rwanda and Egypt, there is emphasis on AI training in schools. Evident here is a recognition that the continent lags behind in AI development, although it has a growing AI startup ecosystem and an unsaturated market for AI. It underscores the need to interrogate AI development, the locational advantages and disadvantages it represents and its links to governance inequalities. I argue that this should be a major consideration in Africa, based on what I describe as the politics of locationality. The politics of locationality Having established the foundational basis for my argument, I now define the politics of locationality as the way in which the power resident in Big Tech and AI systems is associated with their primary situatedness in places of advanced technological and AI development and how this underlying reality, in turn, (re)produces imbalances and unequal opportunities for AI development and governance faced by countries in the majority world, particularly Africa. The politics of locationality highlights the mix of advantages that countries such as the US, China and those in Europe where the largest AI companies are headquartered have. By contrast, African countries, despite advances that have been made in the AI startup ecosystem and state policy interventions, suffer from a range of disadvantages in locational, political, economic, cultural, data, labour and historical spheres. Addressing this mix of disadvantages is what the continent needs to become a location of influence from which the values, ethics and governance that circumscribe AI can be shaped. To expand on my argument, I refer to the AI policies of some of the largest companies and the guiding principles for AI that leading tech countries have drafted. Take OpenAI for instance. The OpenAI (2024) Terms of Use specify that dispute resolution between the company and users anywhere in the world would be coordinated by National Arbitration and Mediation, headquartered in New York. The law that governs the arbitration is the US Federal Arbitration Act. It adds that, ‘California law will govern these Terms’ and ‘claims arising out of or relating to these Terms will be brought exclusively in the federal or state courts of San Francisco, California’ (see Governing Law Section). This is not surprising, given that OpenAI is headquartered in San Francisco. Also, for Gemini (2024), owned by Google, the governing law of its User Agreement is the laws of New York, and the Agreement is seen as a ‘contract wholly entered into and wholly performed within the State of New York’ (see Governing Law Section). I found a similar pattern in the UK and China. In the UK, Darktrace (2024), an AI cybersecurity firm, notes that the governing law of its Master Services Agreement is the laws of England and Wales, except if the customer is located in the US, in which case the laws of California apply. In China, Section VII of the Terms of Use of UBTECH (2023), an AI robotics firm, states: ‘The establishment, effectiveness, performance, interpretation and dispute resolution of this [user] agreement are subject to the laws of the People’s Republic of China (excluding Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan).’ The same goes for Alibaba’s Qwen (2023), which is covered by the Alibaba Cloud International Website Terms of Use, the governing law of which is that of Singapore, where Alibaba has its office in the Asia Pacific. Hence, I note that AI companies uphold the laws of the countries where they are headquartered, and they subject the governance of their technologies to these laws. AI companies have also come under sustained pressure to develop rules according to the values, ethics and standards of their host nations, thanks, in part, to the dictates of digital geopolitics and the competition for AI supremacy. The US, for instance, had the Biden Administration’s Executive Order on Safe, Secure and Trustworthy Artificial Intelligence (US Executive Order, 2023), through which it sought to promote an AI market that emphasises US innovation and leadership on AI (Section 2(h)) and the need to encourage international partners to support the voluntary commitments of US AI companies (Section 11(a)(ii)). But these voluntary commitments are underpinned by the need for US leadership and ‘to ensure that artificial intelligence is aligned with values shared by all Americans’ (proposed National AI Commission Act (2023), Section 3(g)(1)). The Biden Executive Order was replaced in January 2025 by the Trump AI Executive Order, aptly named, ‘Removing Barriers to American Leadership in Artificial Intelligence.’ All these underscore that a key intention of US policy is that the design of AI mirrors America’s geopolitical leadership, cultural norms, ethics and jurisprudence. A similar line of argument applies to Europe and China. In Europe, the first clause of the European Union (2024) AI Act says its purpose is to lay ‘a uniform legal framework’ for AI development and deployment ‘in accordance with Union values’ (Section 1) and it supports the ‘European human-centric approach to AI and being a global leader’ in AI development (Section 8). In China, there is the Generative AI Measures released in August 2023. The regulation includes a stipulation that generative AI technologies should not produce content that incite the ‘subversion of national sovereignty or the overturn of the socialist system’ (Henshall, 2023: para. 2). The same ethos is evident in China’s 2023 Management of Deep Synthesis of Internet information Services enacted by the Cyberspace Administration of China (2022). It mandates that in developing products such as AI, companies must abide by Chinese laws, correct political direction and value orientation. This was clearly evident in the January 2025 roll out of DeepSeek, a China-based AI assistant, which when asked about Tiananmen Square, refused to answer, saying it follows ‘ethical guidelines’ and added: ‘I respect the laws and cultural contexts in which I operate’ (author’s conversation with DeepSeek). It goes to show that expansive or restrictive design and deployment of AI technologies are subject to the value system prevalent in their originating countries. Hence, the politics of locationality sustains the different visions that leading tech countries have of AI in their battle for supremacy – visions that are not necessarily inclusive of African perspectives even though they find expression on the continent through pervasive deployment and usage. Conclusion In this paper, I have examined the importance of the location of AI companies and, by so doing, introduced the politics of locationality as a concept to extend our understanding and explain the standing that nations have in AI development and how this translates to the influence they wield in AI governance. My discussion showed that although Africa has a growing AI startup ecosystem, a burgeoning user market base and state influence in policymaking, the continent still faces a mix of disadvantages in historical, technological, political, legal, economic, labour and data spheres. This mix reveals the locational disadvantage that confronts Africa as a place from which AI ethics, cultures and governance can be shaped in the global sense. It relates to Hassan’s (2023) point on the ‘lack of African AI innovations that are rooted in the local context but [have] the potential to compete at the global scale’ (p. 1430). What I found was that AI companies that have global scale and presence are headquartered mainly in leading tech countries (the US, China and European nations) and have subjected themselves to the governing laws of these countries. Conversely, the laws and policies of leading tech countries mandate that these companies, among other things, embed the respective country’s ethos, values and cultures into AI systems. The link between AI systems and cultural values as outlined in this paper, therefore, points to the connection between media and cultural studies and AI. In particular, the paper highlights the importance of considering how AI is produced and shaped by cultural understandings, and how AI further projects, shapes and extends culture. It suggests the need for greater research emphasis on the connections between media, AI and culture, given that AI represents the intersection of human labour, machine learning, infrastructure (e.g. data centres), mineral resources (e.g. lithium), media inputs (vast troves of data: information, texts, pictures, videos, maps, and codes) and classification systems that all combine to transform AI models into mechanics of knowledge construction (Crawford, 2021). The outcome are mediated outputs (e.g. AI responses to prompts and automated decisions) – outputs that simultaneously represent and transform culture, even as they are shaped by it. Equally crucial and more important, in the context of this paper, is the need to consider the locationality of it all. By this I mean the globalised and complex interaction of locations in AI development and governance that potentially determines whose culture is elevated and whose culture is progressively silenced in a relationship defined by hegemony and inequality. Key to understanding this hegemony-inequality mix is the principle of locational advantage, which Iammarino and McCann (2013) describe as a two-way relationship between multinationals and their locational headquarters, noting that just as location is becoming increasingly vital for multinationals, so also are multinationals progressively more important for location (i.e. cities or countries). It underscores my argument on the politics of locationality, which shows that just as large AI firms need locations, such as the US or China, that have the right mix of advantages to serve as headquarters, so also do leading tech countries need and use these firms in setting the cultural and governance paradigm for AI technologies. This structural makeup reflects the imbalances in AI development, explaining why AI governance systems exist within institutional-heterogenous regimes that reproduce Global North dominance (Png, 2022). Addressing these imbalances is what African countries, supported by the AU, should focus on, and there are initial signs that African countries are starting to do this (as seen in the AI strategies). However, a bolder and more robust approach to AI development that is attuned to Africa’s unique sociopolitical context and economic evolution is needed to confront the imbalances tied to the politics of locationality. By so doing, Africa can be positioned to assume locational advantage, with important consequences for inclusive AI and the contribution of global majority countries to the cultures and values embedded in AI systems and the ethics and frameworks by which they are governed. AcknowledgmentsThe author extends appreciation to the editors and reviewers for their helpful and constructive comments, and also to the participants at the 2023 International Symposium on AI Cultures at the University of Turin for their feedback – all of which strengthened the article.Declaration of conflicting interestsThe author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Leverhulme Trust as part of an Early Career Fellowship. The University of Sheffield provided open access funding.ORCID iDVincent Obia https://orcid.org/0000-0003-1650-9103ReferencesAccess Partnership (2024) Tech Policy Trends 2024. Available at: https://accesspartnership.com/tech-policy-trends-2024-the-global-south-is-the-new-epicentre-of-internet-governance-innovation/ (accessed 4 January 2025).African Union (2024) Continental artificial intelligence strategy. Available at: https://au.int/sites/default/files/documents/44004-doc-EN-_Continental_AI_Strategy_July_2024.pdf (accessed 10 October 2024).AI Directory (2024) Database of artificial intelligence & machine learning companies. Available at: https://www.aidirectory.org/ (accessed 10 September 2024).Bergére C (2019) “Don’t tax my megabytes”: Digital infrastructure and the regulation of citizenship in Africa. International Journal of Communication 13: 4309–4326.Bradford A (2023) Digital Empires: The Global Battle to Regulate Technology. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Crossref.Chan A, Okolo CT, Terner Z, et al. (2021) The limits of global inclusion in AI development. arXiv. Crossref. PubMed.CIPESA (2022) Which way for data localisation in Africa? Available at: https://cipesa.org/wp-content/files/briefs/Which_Way_for_Data_Localisation_in_Africa___Brief.pdf (accessed 16 December 2024).Companies Market Capitalisation (2024) Largest AI companies by market capitalization. Available at: https://companiesmarketcap.com/artificial-intelligence/largest-ai-companies-by-marketcap/#google_vignette (accessed 5 September 2024).Crawford K (2021) The Atlas of AI: Power, Politics, and the Planetary Costs of Artificial Intelligence. New Haven: Yale University Press.Cyberspace Administration of China (2022) Provisions on the management of deep synthesis of internet information services. Available at: https://www.cac.gov.cn/2022-12/11/c_1672221949354811.htm (accessed 12 October 2024).Darktrace (2024) Master services agreement. Available at: https://cdn.prod.website-files.com/626ff4d25aca2edf4325ff97/66fc2bc0317776db72ac418c_Darktrace%20MSA%20v2.0%202024-10-01.pdf (accessed 4 October 2024).DCByte (2023) Africa’s key data centre markets. Available at: https://africadca.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Title_Africas-Key-Data-Centre-Markets.pdf (accessed 17 December 2024).Dunning JH (1998) Location and the multinational enterprise: A neglected factor? Journal of International Business Studies 29(1): 45–66. Crossref. Web of Science.Egypt AI Strategy (2021) Egypt National Artificial Intelligence strategy. Available at: https://mcit.gov.eg/Upcont/Documents/Publications_672021000_Egypt-National-AI-Strategy-English.pdf (accessed 5 July 2023).Eke DO, Wakunuma K, Akintoye S (2023) Introducing responsible AI in Africa. In: Eke DO, Wakunuma K, Akintoye S (eds) Responsible AI in Africa: Challlenges and opportunities. Chan, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, pp.1–11. Crossref.Emerging Technology Observatory (2024) AI Country Activity Tracker. Available at: https://cat.eto.tech/?countryGroups=Africa%2CAsia%20Pacific%2CEurope%2CLatin%20America%20and%20the%20Caribbean%2CNorthern%20America%2COceania&dataset=Patent&expanded=Summary-metrics (accessed 7 September 2024).Epoch AI (2024) Notable AI models. Available at: https://epoch.ai/data/notable-ai-models?view=table#explore-the-data (accessed 7 September 2024).European Union (2024) Artificial Intelligence Act. Available at: https://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN/TXT/PDF/?uri=OJ:L_202401689 (accessed 25 January 2025).Fratini S, Musiani F (2024) Data localization as contested and narrated security in the age of digital sovereignty: The case of Switzerland. Information, Communication & Society: 1–19. Crossref. Web of Science.Gemini (2024) User Agreement. Available at: https://www.gemini.com/legal/user-agreement#section-business-day (accessed 4 October 2024).Giovane CD, Ferencz J, López-González J (2023) The nature, evolution and potential implications of data localisation measures. OECD Trade Policy Papers, No. 278. Paris, France: OECD Publishing.Global Partnership on Artificial Intelligence (2025) GPAI Members. Available at: https://gpai.ai/community/ (accessed 7 January 2025).Gondwe G (2023) CHATGPT and the Global South: How are journalists in sub-Saharan Africa engaging with generative AI? Online Media Global Communication 2(2): 228–249. Crossref.Hassan Y (2023) Governing algorithms from the South: A case study of AI development in Africa. AI & Society 38: 1429–1442. Crossref. Web of Science.Henshall W (2023) How China’s new AI rules could affect U.S. companies. Times, 19 September.Iammarino S, McCann P (2013) Multinationals and Economic Geography: Location, Technology and Innovation. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar. Crossref.Jungco KG (2024) 100 top AI companies trendsetting in 2024. Available at: https://www.datamation.com/featured/ai-companies/ (accessed 9 September 2024).Lee H-K (2022) Rethinking creativity: Creative industries, AI and everyday creativity. Media, Culture & Society 44(3): 601–612. Crossref. Web of Science.Lin B (2024) Beyond authoritarianism and liberal democracy: Understanding China’s artificial intelligence impact in Africa. Information, Communication & Society 27(6): 1126–1141. Crossref. Web of Science.Ludec CL, Cornet M, Casilli AA (2023) The problem with annotation. Human labour and outsourcing between France and Madagascar. Big Data & Society 10(2): 1–13. Crossref.Maslej N, Fattorini L, Perrault R, et al. (2024) The AI index 2024 annual report. Available at: https://aiindex.stanford.edu/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/HAI_AI-Index-Report-2024.pdf (accessed 23 September 2024).Mauritius AI Strategy (2018) Maritius Artificial Intelligence strategy. Available at: https://ncb.govmu.org/ncb/strategicplans/MauritiusAIStrategy2018.pdf (accessed 20 June 2023).Mhlambi S, Tiribelli S (2023) Decolonizing AI Ethics: Relational Autonomy as a Means to Counter AI Harms. Topoi 42: 867–880. Crossref. Web of Science.Moorosi N (2024) Better data sets won’t solve the problem — we need AI for Africa to be developed in Africa. Nature 636: 276. Crossref. PubMed. Web of Science.Muldoon J, Wu BA (2023) Artificial intelligence in the colonial matrix of power. Philosophy & Technology 36(80): 1–24.Natale S, Guzman AL (2022) Reclaiming the human in machine cultures: Introduction. Media, Culture & Society 44(4): 627–637. Crossref. Web of Science.National AI Commission Act (2023) National AI Commission Act (H.R.4223). Available at: https://www.congress.gov/bill/118th-congress/house-bill/4223/text (accessed 4 October 2024).Nayebare M (2019) Artificial intelligence policies in Africa over the next five years. XRDS 26(2): 50–54 Crossref.Nigerian AI Strategy (2024) National Artificial Intelligence strategy [draft]. Available at: https://ncair.nitda.gov.ng/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/National-AI-Strategy_01082024-copy.pdf (accessed 4 October 2024).Nuwer R (2024) Africa’s newest resource could be a game-changer for the global south. Nature, 19 September.Okolo CT, Aruleba K, Obaido G (2023) Responsible AI in Africa—Challenges and opportunities. In: Eke DO, Wakunuma K, Akintoye S (eds) Responsible AI in Africa: Challenges and Opportunities. Chan, Switzerland: Palgrave, pp.35–64. Crossref.OpenAI (2024) Terms of Use. Available at: https://openai.com/policies/row-terms-of-use/ (accessed 4 October 2024).Ott BL, Mack RL (2014) Critical Media Studies: An Introduction. West Sussex: Wiley Blackwell.Parks L, Thompson R (2020) The slow shutdown: Information and Internet regulation in Tanzania from 2010 to 2018 and impacts on online content creators. International Journal of Communication 14: 4288–4438. Web of Science.Plantinga P, Shilongo K, Mudongo O, et al. (2024) Responsible artificial intelligence in Africa: Towards policy learning. Data & Policy 6: e72. Crossref. Web of Science.Png M-T (2022) At the tensions of South and North: Critical roles of Global South stakeholders in AI governance. In: Bullock JB, Chen Y-C, Himmelreich J, et al. (eds) The Oxford Handbook of AI Governance. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Crossref.Qwen (2023) Alibaba cloud international website terms of use. Available at: https://www.alibabacloud.com/help/en/legal/latest/alibaba-cloud-international-website-terms-of-use-alibaba-cloud-international-website-terms-of-use (accessed 8 October 2024).Rwandan National AI Policy (2022) The national AI policy. Available at: https://rura.rw/fileadmin/Documents/ICT/Laws/Rwanda_national_Artificial_intelligence_Policy.pdf (accessed 5 July 2023).Sargsyan T (2016) Data localization and the role of infrastructure for surveillance, privacy, and security. International Journal of Communication 10: 2221–2237. Web of Science.Tidjon LN, Khomh F (2022) The different faces of AI ethics across the world: A principle-implementation gap analysis. arXiv. Crossref.UBTECH (2023) Terms of Use. Available at: https://www.ubtrobot.com/en/privacy/termOfUse (accessed 4 October 2024).US Executive Order (2023) Executive order on the safe, secure, and trustworthy development and use of artificial intelligence. Available at: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2023/10/30/executive-order-on-the-safe-secure-and-trustworthy-development-and-use-of-artificial-intelligence/ (accessed 10 January 2024).Wong PN (2021) Techno-Geopolitics: US-China Tech War and the Practice of Digital Statecraft. London: Routledge. Crossref.World Economic Forum (2025) AI Governance Alliance - Our partners. Available at: https://initiatives.weforum.org/ai-governance-alliance/partners#countries=Africa (accessed 7 January 2025).

Diplomacy
Russia-Latin America parliament conference (2023-09-29)

Latin America’s Attitudes towards Russia’s War in Ukraine

by Maria Puerta Riera

In Latin America, Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela are not alone in their support for Russia and its invasion of Ukraine. In many cases, support has been disguised as an interest in peace or a neutral stance towards the conflict, as seen in the cases of Colombia, Mexico, and Brazil. While we find manifold diplomatic approaches toward Russia and Ukraine in Latin America, the underlying motivations can be understood in terms of support or rejection. While a majority of nations reject the invasion, considering it a threat to territorial sovereignty and self-determination, others have been reluctant to place any blame on Russia. More broadly, there has been less of an ideological bloc and more of an anti-imperialist or anti-colonial sentiment, with a few exceptions, such as Gabrie Boric from Chile who has publicly repudiated Russia’s aggression against Ukraine. His opposition is a departure from other Latin American leftist leaders like Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Gustavo Francisco Petro who have been more critical of Volodymyr Zelensky than Vladimir Putin. However, we can still identify three distinctive approaches to the crisis: 1) geopolitical, 2) economic, and 3) historical. The region has a keen interest in keeping its doors open to Russia. BRICS members like Brazil have managed to maintain their alleged neutrality in the pursuit of peace—even as President Lula has explicitly supported  Putin—while simultaneously protecting their economic interests. Others like Colombia and Mexico have shielded their unwillingness to condemn Putin’s invasion of Ukraine in an apparent push for peace. On the economic front, attitudes towards Russia are more tenuous given that Russia’s capability for foreign direct investment has been significantly reduced by the brunt of the war, along with the impact of the economic sanctions that followed their aggression. To be sure, Russia’s investments in the region have been winding down for some time, with a decreasing profile in areas such as energy, oil, and gas, as well as software and IT. However, the economic ties are more significant in the cases of Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela—where they are joined more by their subjection to economic sanctions, and therefore the necessity to evade the consequences of economic isolation. There are specific areas key to this alliance: Russian fertilisers, along with oil and diesel, are critical to bypassing Western sanctions. Meanwhile, historical ties are more consequential than is commonly understood. Misinterpretations of Russia’s Soviet past by leftist-governed Latin American countries and longstanding social and cultural commonalities partially explain the continued support from diverse leaders such as Lula and Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil. These ties, rooted in shared anti-colonial sentiments and cultivated over decades, and regardless of ideological shifts, illustrate Russia’s multifaceted regional influence. This context underscores the fact that Russia’s regional impact transcends ideological lines, with both left and right-wing governments either explicitly supporting Russia or criticising Ukraine’s NATO aspirations to justify Russia’s aggression. The return of Donald Trump to the White House has prominent leaders of the Latin American left aligning with the new administration, resulting in significant consequences for the region. The new US administration’s criticism of Kyiv resonates with positions held by Brazil, Mexico, Colombia, Cuba, and Nicaragua. Despite ideological differences, their alignment emerges from a mix of political affinities, geopolitical strategies, and historical connections. Putin’s explicit defiance of Donald Trump’s negotiation efforts raises questions about Latin America’s influence over the conflict, largely due to its initial reluctance to adopt a decisive stance against Putin. The lonely voice condemning Putin’s war of attrition continues to be Chilean President Gabriel Boric, in stark contrast to Lula DaSilva and Gustavo Petro, who remain in Putin’s corner, making it unlikely they can be viewed as honest brokers in a peace initiative. Trump’s policies have prompted Brazil and Colombia to voice limited concerns about US plans for Ukraine, although still refraining from outright condemnation of Russia. This stance appears less a genuine support for Ukraine and more an opposition to US involvement in peace processes, even blaming Ukraine as partially responsible. Meanwhile, ideology alone has proven insufficient to prompt unified condemnation of Russia or widespread support for Ukraine in Latin America. Previous efforts by the Biden administration to secure regional military assistance for Ukraine were met with firm rejection and reluctance. This distancing, interpreted as tacit support for Russia, contributes to concerns about increasing authoritarian tendencies in the region, reflecting a diminished commitment to emerging democracies in crisis. Effectively abandoned by the international community, Ukraine faces negotiations with nations seeking its valuable earth minerals in exchange for protection, essentially framing it within a debt relief context. The absence of significant Latin American critique of this neocolonial approach underscores a troubling shift where sovereignty and self-determination appear increasingly disposable, contingent upon geopolitical interests and contexts. Maria I. Puerta Riera is a Visiting Professor of Political Science at Valencia College in Orlando, FL., where she teaches U.S. Government and International Politics. She holds a PhD. in Social Sciences, with her research focusing on the crises of democracies in Latin America. She has a special interest in Venezuela, Cuba, and Nicaragua, and is currently working on the effects of the illiberal regimes of China and Russia and their use of sharp power in the region. This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

Diplomacy
iran and china flags on gears, gas rig model between them, gas transit from iran to china

China in the Middle East: Geoeconomic Challenges in a High-Tension Region, from Tehran to Tel Aviv

by Kambiz Zare

In the Middle East, China seeks to appear neutral by engaging in dialogue with all actors, from Tehran to Tel Aviv, including Riyadh. Beijing's objective is clear: to establish itself as a guarantor of stability to secure its energy and commercial interests. The People's Republic of China's (PRC) commitment to the Middle East reflects a carefully calibrated geostrategic approach, aiming to preserve regional stability, ensure uninterrupted access to energy resources, and promote its famous Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), also known as the 'New Silk Roads.' In this region, the Sino-Iranian relationship is most often highlighted due to its political weight and military dimension; however, whether in economic, diplomatic, or strategic terms, Beijing's presence in this area certainly extends beyond its ties with Tehran. As elsewhere in the world, in the Middle East, China divides its diplomatic partnerships into several types, listed here in descending order of intensity: "global strategic partnerships" (in the Middle East: Egypt, Iran, Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, and Bahrain); "strategic partnerships" (Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Syria, Turkey, and the Palestinian Authority); "friendly cooperation partnerships" (Lebanon and Yemen); and finally, "innovative global partnerships" (Israel). China is redefining its priorities in the Middle East  Energy dependence is one of the essential drivers of China's policy in the region. Gulf countries, particularly Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Kuwait, are among the main suppliers of crude oil to the PRC—well ahead of Iran in terms of volume, as well as reliability and investment opportunities. This economic reality compels China to invest much more heavily in the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries, where financial stability, political predictability, and institutional openness promote sustainable strategic partnerships and infrastructure development, unlike in Iran. For these reasons, the Gulf countries have indirectly become essential nodes in the architecture of the BRI through trade, receiving nearly six times more Chinese investments than Iran. Although Iran has geographical interest as a potential corridor between China and Europe, the persistent effect of international sanctions, poor economic management, and regional adventurism severely limit its ability to attract sustainable Chinese investments. In contrast, Israel offers a functioning and favorable environment for investors, making it a preferred destination for Chinese capital and infrastructure projects. Its economy is based on solid infrastructure and a dynamic technology sector. Despite geopolitical shocks, including the recent clashes with Iran – which will undoubtedly impact the country's business environment – Israel, as a member of the OECD, remains attractive in terms of business environment and investment, mainly because the foundations of its economic environment are stronger than those of Iran or Saudi Arabia. The Hebrew state occupies an increasing place within the BRI – not due to the volume of Chinese direct investments, but because of its strategic position and ambitious infrastructure agenda. Its geographical location – straddling Europe, Asia, and Africa via the Mediterranean – makes it a key land and maritime connectivity point that provides an alternative option to Iran for linking China to Europe. In this context, China and Israel have made progress in their negotiations for a free trade agreement that has been discussed since 2016. Although discussions have been suspended since 2023, there remains hope that an agreement could be signed once stability returns to the region. China's trade with Israel and Iran: divergent trajectories China's commercial relations with Israel and Iran reveal two distinct economic approaches.  With Israel, trade is increasingly marked by imports of high technologies - particularly in the semiconductor field - reflecting a growing technological interdependence.  In contrast, trade with Iran remains focused on industrial goods and natural resources, illustrating a more traditional partnership based on access to raw materials. These contrasting dynamics reflect China's strategic flexibility, which relies on Israeli innovation while securing its supplies from Iran.  Tensions in the Strait of Hormuz are testing China's strategy in Iran  For nearly fifty years, Iran has turned to China for economic support. However, despite 21 Chinese greenfield investment projects between 2003 and 2020 – mainly in the energy sector – Beijing has gradually begun to disengage due to international sanctions and ongoing regional instability. Large companies such as CNPC and Sinopec have reduced their stake, or even abandoned some projects, while tech companies like Huawei and Lenovo have also scaled back their presence in the Iranian market. Between 2017 and 2019, Iran reportedly saw an outflow of Chinese capital estimated at $990 million. China views instability in the Middle East, particularly the confrontation between Israel and Iran, as a direct threat to its economic and commercial interests. As the world's largest buyer of Iranian oil, China is especially concerned about potential disruptions in strategic maritime routes, particularly the Strait of Hormuz. In June 2025, Chinese oil imports from Iran significantly increased, reaching up to 1.8 million barrels per day – a surge that occurred just before the military escalation between Israel and Iran, which raised concerns about the security of the Strait of Hormuz. A sign of the weight of the PRC in this region: after the reciprocal airstrikes between Israel and Iran, and Tehran's threat to close this crucial passage, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio urged Beijing to intervene, emphasizing China's heavy dependence on this oil route. China–United States: strategic tensions in a transitioning Middle East China and the United States recently signed a trade agreement and established a 90-day tariff truce, aiming to resolve some key disputes and stabilize economic relations. Furthermore, on the military front, Iran and China signed a military cooperation agreement as early as 2016, reflecting their mutual desire to counter American influence in the region and secure trade routes. Historically, China has supported Iran through arms sales, technology transfers, and training programs. Moreover, despite the official rhetoric, some reports suggest that Chinese technologies have contributed to the development of Iran's ballistic program. The Sino-Iranian relationship in defense illustrates a two-level diplomacy: China discreetly supports Iran's military autonomy while ensuring it does not compromise its strategic relationships with other important regional partners, including Israel, with whom it also maintains top-level security dialogues. This highlights Beijing's broader ambition: to avoid regional polarizations and maintain a balance of power favorable to its interests. China's strategy in the Middle East towards the United States is based on a principle of equidistance: to increase its influence without direct confrontation, while drawing strategic benefits from Saudi Arabia, Israel, Iran, and Egypt. In this perspective, the People's Republic of China does not seek to replace the United States as the dominant power in the region, but rather to offer a multipolar presence focused on preserving stability. Maintaining the status quo, avoiding direct conflicts, and building a parallel system of influence through infrastructure, trade, and diplomacy are the pillars of China's position in the Middle East. This approach ensures Beijing secure access to energy, trade corridors, and sustainable geopolitical influence from Tel Aviv to Tehran.

Diplomacy
Flag of Iran waving in the wind against the bloody red sky and portrait Ayatollah Khomeini from the iranian banknote

Iran’s Quiet Recalibration: Post-Conflict Strategy Challenges Sanctions Logic

by Bahram P. Kalviri

The recent conflict between Iran and Israel, irrespective of its military and security ramifications, marks the genesis of a new phase in Iran’s engagement with the world. This has the potential not only to alter the regional balance but also to redefine the trajectory of Iran’s nuclear program, its sanctions regime, and its diplomatic capacities. While many anticipated that this confrontation would escalate political and economic pressures on Iran, certain strategic realities and diplomatic indicators suggest that, conversely, this crisis might initiate a recalibration in international policy concerning Iran. Ostensibly, the Western alliance continues to voice concerns about Iran’s nuclear program. However, at deeper levels, the question arises: if Iran’s key nuclear facilities have been targeted and completely obliterated, what justification remains for continuing “maximum pressure“? Does this situation, despite its inherent difficulties, not present an opportunity for Iran to enter a new phase of diplomatic play without explicitly signaling retreat? A phase where novel tools, such as collaboration with third countries, the strategic use of silence, and intelligent avoidance of direct negotiation, could supersede the exhaustive path of the past. This analysis endeavors to present a clear and comprehensive picture of the sanctions landscape, the outlook for a potential agreement, and innovative diplomatic avenues for Iran post-conflict. The central question is whether Iran can leverage this crisis into an opportunity to restore its economic and strategic standing, or if the post-conflict environment will merely exacerbate the challenges in its engagement with the world. To begin with, the logic of sanctions has always rested on a simple principle: to generate pressure for behavioral change. However, this logic is deemed effective only when the sanctioned entity retains maneuverability or the motivation to resist. Now, following an attack that the U.S. claims to have inflicted on sensitive parts of Iran’s nuclear infrastructure, a clear contradiction has emerged in Western sanctions policy: if Iran is no longer capable of quickly returning to a high level of nuclear activity, what is the meaning and justification for continuing a policy of maximum pressure? From the perspective of independent observers, this juncture could represent a strategic rupture. Maximum pressure is justifiable when Iran is on an escalating trajectory with its nuclear program and the technical balance of power is shifting in Tehran’s favor. However, if, as claimed by the opposing side, Iran’s nuclear capability has been set back, then maintaining the sanctions structure would be less an instrument of foreign policy and more an indication of the aimlessness and inertia within the U.S. policymaking apparatus. Under such circumstances, some circles in Tehran speak of the necessity of adopting “intelligent silence.” This approach, instead of sharp reactions or widespread propaganda, relies on leveraging strategic ambiguity and granting itself time. This is particularly relevant if conditions arise where the West, to maintain the appearance of their operation’s success, is compelled to temporarily halt or alleviate pressures. In this scenario, Iran, without abandoning its principled positions, could create space for a recalibration of international actors’ behavior. The critical point is that sanctions are effective only when dynamically linked to a specific objective. If the goal was to alter nuclear behavior, and that behavior is now contained, then the continuation of sanctions is not a tool of statecraft but a sign of the absence of an alternative strategy. Iran can exploit this contradiction, provided it accurately comprehends the changing strategic landscape and avoids falling into the trap of hasty reactions. Building on this evolving dynamic, the recent conflict not only disrupted strategic calculations in Tehran and Tel Aviv but also palpably darkened the political and diplomatic atmosphere between Iran and the West. Prior to this conflict, although indirect nuclear negotiations between Iran and the U.S. were proceeding in a fragile silence, avenues for reviving the 2015 agreement (JCPOA) were still conceivable. Now, however, following explicit military threats from the U.S. and its overt role alongside Israel, even this fragile path has been severely questioned. In Tehran, many analysts believe that the strategy of appeasement and cautious engagement with the West regarding the nuclear dossier requires reconsideration. The recent military threats posed by Washington and its allies, more than being psychological pressure, carried an operational message—a message that effectively put those political elites in Iran who had always dismissed Western threats as mere rhetoric into a position of weakness. It is now acknowledged that complete disregard for threats can be costly for the country. Consequently, the decision-making discourse in Tehran has undergone a new realism: neither complete appeasement nor hasty confrontation; rather, the management of the balance between threat and opportunity. Nevertheless, direct negotiation with the U.S. remains a red line that is rooted not only in domestic politics but also intrinsically linked to Iran’s strategic prestige. On the other hand, the Trump administration faces domestic challenges and electoral constraints and does not wish to enter a process, on the eve of elections, that could be interpreted by its domestic opponents as “conceding to Tehran.” This is particularly true given that the recent conflict has created a more aggressive image of Iran in Western public opinion, an image that significantly complicates the space for flexible diplomacy. Given this diplomatic deadlock, traditional options are practically defunct. Neither the Vienna path is effective, nor do the Omani or Qatari channels operate with the same ease as before. Therefore, either innovative models must be considered—or it must be accepted that the agreement, in its previous form, has reached a historical dead end, and the time has come for a new architectural approach to engagement. One such idea is the adoption of a “third-party commitment” model, which could resolve part of the nuclear and sanctions crisis without requiring a direct agreement with the U.S. In this model, Iran could entrust a portion of its nuclear technical and supervisory commitments, through bilateral or multilateral agreements, to regional third countries such as Qatar, Oman, or Saudi Arabia. These countries, which maintain more balanced relations with Washington, could act as guarantors of these commitments and, simultaneously, negotiate with the U.S. government for specific sanctions waivers to facilitate economic and banking cooperation with Iran. For instance, Tehran could agree with Saudi Arabia or Qatar that part of the oversight process for enrichment or peaceful nuclear activities would be pursued through structures supervised by these countries or joint regional bodies. In return, these countries could receive licenses from the U.S. Treasury, Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) to participate in energy, banking, or transportation projects with Iran. This model, while circumventing the political sensitivities of direct negotiation, could provide a limited breathing space for Iran’s economy at the technical and executive levels. Another advantage of this approach is the strengthening of Iran’s regional position through the institutionalization of cooperation with its neighbors. Such a model transforms Iran’s image from a threatening actor to a cooperative partner, and effectively, contrary to Israel’s narrative, leaves the path open for regional dialogue. Evidently, this model is not without challenges, including Iran’s need to gain the trust of these countries, provide sufficient technical and legal guarantees, and prevent Israeli maneuvering aimed at disrupting this process. However, in the current circumstances, “third-party commitment” is one of the few options that can overcome the current impasse without imposing the heavy costs of a direct agreement. To fully grasp the broader diplomatic calculus, one must look beyond regional conflicts and into the structural shifts within global geopolitics. For a precise analysis of U.S. sanctions and diplomatic behavior towards Iran, it is insufficient to focus solely on military skirmishes or rhetorical threats. Official and semi-official U.S. foreign policy documents in recent years clearly indicate that Washington’s strategic priority is not Iran, nor even the Middle East, but rather containing China in global competition. This prioritization has created a divergence between verbal threats and the actual U.S. willingness for military engagement or even sustained maximum pressure. Although Washington symbolically and periodically sided with Tel Aviv in the recent Iran-Israel conflict, it was never eager for direct military involvement. In fact, many American analysts warned that drawing the U.S. into a new war in the Middle East would divert the country’s strategic focus from containing China, controlling Taiwan, and technological-economic competition with East Asia. In this vein, the Trump administration—contrary to the traditional perception of its aggressive policy—is disinclined towards costly and protracted wars in the Middle East. Even during his first term as president, he emphasized the withdrawal of troops from the region, reducing foreign expenditures, and focusing on the domestic economy. Therefore, although his policy towards Iran appears more hostile on the surface, in practice, he might prefer an option for managing tension without war; a model that could include maximum economic pressure, occasional threats, and perhaps even a show negotiation, but not direct engagement. Taken together, these factors—shifting U.S. priorities, regional recalibrations, and tactical innovation—suggest that the recent Iran-Israel conflict was a turning point that not only impacted the regional security balance but also provided an opportunity to revisit the path of sanctions, diplomacy, and nuclear policies. Contrary to popular belief, this war may have transformed into a saturation point in the West’s sanctions logic, rather than merely an excuse to intensify pressure—a point where continued pressure, without a clear objective, amounts to strategic self-sabotage. On the other hand, Trump’s return to power, with all its sharp and symbolic implications, conceals a contradictory reality: this president might be less inclined than any of his predecessors to engage in a costly war in the Middle East. The prioritization of China, domestic economy, and Trump’s transactional approach all indicate that Iran can utilize the existing environment to design a new path, one that does not necessarily lead to a classic agreement, but rather to smart tension management through informal and regionally focused tools. In this context, initiatives such as third-party commitments, leveraging neighbors’ capacities to reduce pressure, and pursuing a policy of strategic silence and ambiguity can enable Iran to redefine its economic and diplomatic trajectory – and to do so without retreat, without costly negotiations, and without falling into the trap of zero-sum games. However, success on this path requires several fundamental preconditions: (1) a precise understanding of strategic changes in the US; (2) realism in confronting new threats without succumbing to emotional reactions; (3) intelligent coordination among domestic decision-making bodies; and finally (4) revival of Iran’s economic and regional diplomatic capacity with the aim of exploiting limited but important opportunities. Ultimately, the fundamental question is not whether a grand agreement is imminent or if sanctions will be lifted overnight. The question is whether Iran, at this historical juncture, can calmly, precisely, and with an integrated view of security, economy, and diplomacy, transform the crisis into a platform for recalibrating its role in the regional and global order. The answer to this question depends not merely on external developments, but on the will and initiative within Iran. The text of this work is licensed under  a Creative Commons CC BY-NC 4.0 license.

Diplomacy
Displaced Palestinians return to their homes in Gaza City and the north via Netzarim after a year and a half of displacement, as part of the ceasefire agreement, on January 26, 2025.

Silencing Palestinian voices: On freedom of expression and Gaza

by Stefania Di Stefano

Abstract The right to freedom of expression is currently facing a global crisis unleashed by the conflict in Gaza. The conflict has led to a high polarisation of public opinion, with opposing factions supporting either Israel's actions or the Palestinian cause. Yet, the right to freedom of expression of Palestinian activists and their supporters is facing systematic suppression worldwide. In this column, I shed light on how state and non-state actors have been active vehicles for the restriction of the right to freedom of expression by targeting voices in support of the Palestinian cause and I consider the application and scope of the right to freedom of expression in this context. The column concludes that the failure to protect the right of Palestinians to have their voices heard contributes to the erosion of our collective right to freedom of expression and has wider repercussion on the promotion and protection of human rights more generally. KeywordsFreedom of expression, Gaza, peaceful protests, media freedom, academic freedom‌, International Law Department, Geneva Graduate Institute, Geneva, Switzerland 1. INTRODUCTION Since 7 October 2023, the right to freedom of expression has been severely restricted worldwide. Irene Khan, current UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Opinion and Expression, has depicted the current situation as ‘a global crisis of freedom of expression’ unleashed by the conflict in Gaza.1 The threats to the exercise of this fundamental human right have been so extensive and granular that, for instance, in early October 2024, a beekeeper was fined in Italy for merely having exposed a banner at his market stall reading ‘Stop bombing Gaza – stop genocide’.2 Despite the fact that the International Court of Justice has confirmed that what we see on our screens and read about in the newspapers (which cannot even fully reflect the reality that Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank face every day) may amount to a real and imminent risk of genocide already in January 2024,3 the right to freedom of expression of Palestinian activists and their supporters is severely restricted, especially in North America and Europe. It has been commented that ‘rarely has a conflict challenged freedom of opinion and expression so broadly and so far beyond its borders’.4 As a result, in this column I shed light on how both state and non-state actors have been active vehicles for the restriction of the right to freedom of expression in the context of the conflict in Gaza by targeting voices in support of the Palestinian cause in different ways. I then consider the application and scope of the right to freedom of expression in this context and I draw some conclusions on the wider implications that restrictions imposed on freedom of expression bear for the protection and promotion of human rights more generally. 2. SILENCING THE PALESTINIAN CAUSE: THE ROLE OF STATE AND NON-STATE ACTORS Since the beginning of the conflict in Gaza, public opinion has become highly polarised, with opposing factions supporting either Israel's actions or the Palestinian cause. Yet, Palestinian voices and their supporters have faced systematic suppression, with both states and non-state actors actively taking measures to silence their positions. Protests in support of the Palestinian cause have been severely restricted in many countries across the world, often on the grounds that these measures are necessary to protect public order and security, to counter “support of terrorism”, and/or to “prevent antisemitism”. Governments, and Western ones in particular, have imposed specific restrictions, blanket bans or pre-emptive bans on demonstrations in support of Palestine.5 Additionally, law enforcement officials have often resorted to excessive use of force and arbitrary detention to disrupt the protests.6 Although in some instances these protests have seen incidents of violence or vandalism, oftentimes the imposed restrictions have been disproportionate. In Germany, for instance, public authorities have imposed pre-emptive bans on several solidarity gatherings in support of Palestinians, based on concerns for ‘public security’, a need to prevent the ‘public celebration of the Hamas terrorist attacks’ of 7 October 2023, and ‘the increase in antisemitic attacks’ in the country.7 These decisions, however, were often grounded on ‘unspecified risks of “inciting, antisemitic exclamations, glorification of and incitement to violence, and acts of violence”’.8 In Italy, protests have been met with excessive use of force by police. For instance, during a protest organised in Pisa in February 2024, riot police and police vehicles were deployed against protesters to block the route to the university square, where participants were directed. In an effort to prevent the participants to reach the square, police charged forward and hit students with batons.9 The disproportionate response by law enforcement led to an unprecedented statement by Italian President of the Republic Sergio Mattarella, who criticised the policing of the protest.10 These restrictions have not been limited to public demonstrations. Academic freedom, in fact, has also faced severe challenges. In many university campuses across the world, students have set up encampments, in solidarity with the Palestinian people, to call for a ceasefire as well as to demand that their universities divest from corporations profiting from the conflict and occupation of the Palestinian territories.11 However, these initiatives have also been met with restrictions: university administrations and local authorities have forcibly removed the encampments, often employing excessive use of force and arbitrarily arresting protestors.12 Students who have participated in the protests have even faced disciplinary measures: as underscored by the UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Expression, these have included ‘suspension, possible expulsion, eviction from campus housing and the threat of deportation of some foreign students, which could jeopardize their scholarships and future careers’.13 Universities have also increasingly cancelled and even prohibited the holding of events on Israel and Palestine. The recent suspension of a planned event with Francesca Albanese, current UN Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the Palestinian territories occupied since 1967 by the University of Munich14 and by the Free University of Berlin15 are only the latest example in a long list of events on Palestine canceled by universities across the globe.16 Journalists, and the media more generally, have been subjected to an unprecedented level of attacks. Israel has not only denied access to Gaza to foreign press,17 thereby preventing proper reporting from the ground, but those journalists with access to Gaza have been deliberately killed or arbitrarily detained: according to the Committee to Protect Journalists, as of 3 February 2025, 167 journalists and media workers were confirmed killed (159 Palestinian, 2 Israeli, and 6 Lebanese), 49 journalists were reported injured, 2 journalists were reported missing, and 75 journalists were reported arrested.18 Under international humanitarian law, the deliberate killing of journalists is prohibited and the killing of civilians is a war crime.19 Israel has also banned Al-Jazeera20 and raided its offices.21 Recently, the Israeli government has additionally sanctioned the newspaper Haaretz and banned government funding bodies from communicating or placing advertisements with the newspaper on the grounds that Hareetz published ‘many articles that have hurt the legitimacy of the state of Israel and its right to self-defence, and particularly the remarks made in London by Haaretz publisher Amos Schocken that support terrorism and call for imposing sanctions on the government.’22 Additionally, the Israeli government relies on a military censor, which is empowered to fully or partially redact any article dealing with “security issues”: in 2023, 613 articles were barred from publication, and 2,703 articles were redacted.23 Traditional and social media have also played a huge role in censoring pro-Palestinian content. While journalists reporting from Gaza and the West Bank have been silenced by Israel, a worrying majority of media outlets from North America and Europe have consistently failed to perform their watchdog role and speak truth to power: newspaper headlines and TV shows have regularly dehumanised Palestinians,24 and their coverage of the situation in Gaza has consistently employed wording that contributes to the creation a “normality” where, as also underscored by Fuad Zarbiyev, Palestinian lives are not as grievable as Israeli ones.25 Social media platforms have played a crucial role in providing real-time information about the situation in Gaza. This is especially so given that, as mentioned, Israel has severely restricted foreign media access. Nonetheless, despite their crucial role for providing access to information on the situation in Gaza, social media platforms have also significantly contributed to censoring Palestinian content, either because of their inadequate and biased content moderation systems, or following governmental requests for content removal. A human rights due diligence exercise reviewing the impact of Meta's policies and activities during the May 2021 crisis in Israel and Palestine confirms that Meta's policies and practices have resulted in biased outcomes which have specifically impacted Palestinian and Arabic speaking users.26 For instance, the report revealed that Arabic content had greater over-enforcement, meaning that platforms were erroneously removing Palestinian voices.27 While platforms’ content moderation systems already disproportionately restrict Palestinian voices, governmental requests for content removal further exacerbate the issue. As reported by Human Rights Watch, between 7 October and 14 November 2023 alone, Israel's Cyber Unit sent social media platforms 9,500 content takedown requests, 60% of which went to Meta, and platforms overwhelmingly complied with these requests in 94% of cases.28 Content that was shared in support of the Palestinian cause was frequently removed by social media platforms, including the slogan “From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free”. Although this slogan has been meant and interpreted by many as a peaceful call for the right to self-determination of Palestinians,29 it has been removed by the platforms.30 The slogan has even been criminalised or sanctioned in some countries.31 Taken together, this range of measures represent a substantial and highly problematic attack on the right to freedom of expression and access to information and, in turn, to the promotion and protection of human rights more generally. I will now set out the application and relevance of the contours of this right in this context. 3. THE RIGHT TO FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION The right to freedom of opinion and expression is protected by article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR),32 as well as under article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR).33 Additionally, article 20 of the ICCPR prohibits ‘any advocacy of national, racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence’.34 The right to freedom of expression also includes the ‘freedom to seek, receive and impart information and ideas of all kinds, regardless of frontiers, either orally, in writing or in print, in the form of art, or through any other media of his choice’.35 Freedom of expression is integral to the enjoyment of the rights to freedom of assembly and association,36 protected under article 20 of the UDHR, article 21 of the ICCPR37 and article 11 of the ECHR.38 Crucially, for the right to freedom of expression to be restricted, such restriction must meet three cumulative criteria: (1) it must be provided by law; (2) it must pursue a legitimate aim (the respect of the rights or reputations of others or the protection of national security or of public order, or of public health or morals); and (3) the restriction must be necessary and proportionate for pursuing such aim.39 Because the right to freedom of expression is considered to be an enabler for the exercise of other fundamental rights,40 any restriction must be construed narrowly so as not to impair its exercise. Restrictions to freedom of expression, even when pursuing the legitimate aims of protecting the rights of others (for example, the right to non-discrimination of Jewish people and the fight against antisemitism) or public order, need to be proportionate. The rise of antisemitism, Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian racism requires all states to take the necessary measures to protect Jews, Muslims, Palestinians and Arabs from discrimination and hate speech. However, oftentimes restrictions to freedom of expression have relied upon a definition of “antisemitism” which is, in itself, contrary to international human rights law. Many governments rely, in fact, on the working definition of antisemitism provided by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance.41 This definition is overly broad, does not contain the element of “incitement”, and conflates criticism of the state of Israel with antisemitism, therefore contravening the right to freedom of expression since international human rights law allows for criticism of all states.42 The reliance by many governments on this working definition has been considered as a ‘politically motivated instrumentalization of the fight against antisemitism’,43 primarily harming Palestinians and human rights defenders advocating on their behalf.44 As also underscored by Irene Khan, ‘[t]he central conceptual flaw of the “working definition” is the inherent conflation of Zionism, a political ideology, with antisemitism’, which results in “the suppression of legitimate criticism of Israel, not the enhancement of protection of Jews from racial and religious hatred and intolerance”.45 The disruption or prohibition of peaceful protests through the means of excessive use of force, the forcible removal of peaceful student encampments, or even the prohibition of events addressing the topic of Palestine or criticising the state of Israel's actions without it being necessary and proportionate for pursuing a legitimate aim cannot be considered measures in compliance with international human rights law. As also underscored by the UN Human Rights Committee and the Special Rapporteur on the right to Freedom of Assembly and Association, isolated instances of violent conduct are not sufficient to taint an entire assembly as non-peaceful46 and ‘[w]here isolated instances of violence take place in the context of a protest, law enforcement personnel must make all efforts to locate and remove the violent individuals, to allow other protesters to exercise their rights to assemble peacefully and express themselves’.47 Likewise, the attacks on journalists and on media freedom violate everyone's right to freedom of expression and to access to information and, in some instances, they also contravene international humanitarian law. These violations become even more troublesome given the ‘allegations of targeted attacks on media as part of a strategy to cover up evidence of war crimes’.48 At the same time as governments are violating their own obligations under international human rights law, corporate entities such as traditional media and social media are acting in contravention of their own responsibility to respect human rights. By virtue of the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, ‘[b]usiness enterprises should respect human rights’, meaning that “they should avoid infringing on the human rights of others and should address adverse human rights impacts with which they are involved”.49 As such, both traditional media and social media platforms should ensure that their business activities do not infringe on the rights to freedom of expression and access to information. This would include ensuring that reporting does not perpetuate double standards and that content moderation systems do not disproportionately censor Palestinian content. Precisely because the exercise of the right to freedom of expression and access to information acts as a catalyst for the exercise of other fundamental rights, its restriction has wider repercussion on the promotion and protection of human rights more generally. Not only the right to freedom to peaceful assembly is also heavily impacted, but, more crucially, the right to self-determination of Palestinian people is also affected. The blanket ban on the use of Palestinian symbols is but one example of the impact that restrictions on the right to freedom of expression have on the Palestinian right to self-determination. The lack of proper protection of the right to freedom of expression also results in the failure to shed light on a variety of human rights violations that Palestinians are subjected to everyday in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, including the right to life and the right to be free from torture and inhuman and degrading treatment.50 4. CONCLUSION That a beekeeper is fined for exposing a banner calling for the end of a genocide, that students lose their scholarship or visas for calling on their government to demand a ceasefire and on their university to divest from corporations profiting from the conflict and occupation, that a professor is prevented from giving a lecture about Gaza in a university premise, that our governments respond to student peaceful protests with violence – these are issues that should concern each of us. Each of these restrictions, when failing to comply with the standards of legality, legitimacy, necessity and proportionality (as set out in international human rights law), violates our fundamental right to freedom of expression. The right to freedom of expression is considered to be an enabler to the exercise of other fundamental rights. As reiterated by the UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Expression, ‘the genocide in Gaza, the violation of human rights in the occupied Palestinian Territory and the failure of Israel to respect its international legal obligations, including the occupation of Palestinian territory, are matters of global public interest’.51 By failing to stand up for the exercise of our right to freedom of expression in support of the Palestinian cause, and by failing to demand accountability from those actors who consistently violate it, we contribute to its erosion. And by failing to stand up for the rights of Palestinians, including their right to have their voices heard, we fail to stand up for human rights. Declaration of conflicting interestsThe author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article. Notes1. Irene Khan, Global threats to freedom of expression arising from the conflict in Gaza - Report of the Special Rapporteur on the promotion and protection of the right to freedom of opinion and expression 2024 [A/79/319] para 1.2. Federico Berni, ‘Striscione pro Palestina al mercato di Desio, arrivano i carabinieri: multa di 430 euro all’apicoltore’ Corriere della Sera (16 October 2024) <https://milano.corriere.it/notizie/lombardia/24_ottobre_16/striscione-pro-palestina-al-mercato-di-desio-arrivano-i-carabinieri-multa-di-430-euro-all-apicoltore-7c08956e-a16b-4070-a1e7-93b3c5b31xlk.shtml> accessed 3 February 2025.3. Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v Israel) (International Court of Justice). See also, Francesca Albanese, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the Palestinian territories occupied since 1967 - Anatomy of a genocide 2024 [A/HRC/55/73].4. Khan (n 1) para 1.5. ibid 34.6. ‘Europe: Under Protected and Over Restricted: The State of the Right to Protest in 21 European Countries’ (Amnesty International, 2024) <https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/eur01/8199/2024/en/> accessed 3 February 2025.7. ibid 97.8. ibid, emphasis added.9. ibid 98.10. ibid.11. Khan (n 1) para 40; Michael Williams, ‘Pro-Palestinian Student Protests around the World – in Pictures’ the Guardian (7 May 2024) <https://www.theguardian.com/world/gallery/2024/may/07/pro-palestinian-student-protests-around-the-world-in-pictures> accessed 3 February 2025.12. Khan (n 1) para 41.13. ibid 42.14. Francesca Albanese, UN Special Rapporteur oPt [@FranceskAlbs], ‘The University of Munich Has Canceled My Talk, a Decision I Hope They Will Reconsider. If Not, I Look Forward to Seeing You Elsewhere, German Friends. May Freedom of Expression and Your Right to Be Informed Prevail. @LMU_Muenchen’ <https://x.com/FranceskAlbs/status/1885703501516267743> accessed 4 February 2025. On how anti-Palestinian racializing processes and repression operate within a framework of liberal freedom in German education, see Anna Younes and Hanna Al-Taher, ‘Erasing Palestine in Germany's Educational System: The Racial Frontiers of Liberal Freedom’ (2024) 33 Middle East Critique 397.15. ‘Statement Regarding the Planned Public Lecture and Discussion with Francesca Albanese and Eyal Weizman on February 19, 2025’, Freie Universität Berlin (12 February 2025) <https://www.fu-berlin.de/en/presse/informationen/fup/faq/nahost/wissenschaftliche-veranstaltung/index.html> accessed 24 February 2025. On the gravity of these actions for academic freedom, see Isabel Feichtner, ‘Where Is Our Outcry?' (Verfassungsblog, 19 February 2025) <https://verfassungsblog.de/where-is-our-outcry/> accessed 24 February 2025; Khaled El Mahmoud, ‘Special Editorial: A Nation in Crisis: The Suppression of Academic Freedom and the Rise of Ideological Conformity’ (Völkerrechtsblog, 21 February 2025) <https://voelkerrechtsblog.org/special-editorial-a-nation-in-crisis/> accessed 24 February 2025.16. See, for example, Vimal Patel and Anna Betts, ‘Campus Crackdowns Have Chilling Effect on Pro-Palestinian Speech’ The New York Times (17 December 2023) <https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/17/us/campus-crackdowns-have-chilling-effect-on-pro-palestinian-speech.html> accessed 4 February 2025; ‘Harvard Medical School Cancels Class Session With Gazan Patients, Calling It One-Sided’ The Harvard Crimson (22 January 2025) <https://www.thecrimson.com/article/2025/1/23/hms-cancels-gaza-patient-panel/> accessed 4 February 2025.17. ‘Open up Access to Gaza and Protect Journalists’ Le Monde (29 October 2023) <https://www.lemonde.fr/en/opinion/article/2023/10/29/open-up-access-to-gaza-and-protect-journalists_6212695_23.html> accessed 4 February 2025.18. ‘Journalist Casualties in the Israel-Gaza War’ (Committee to Protect Journalists, 3 February 2025) <https://cpj.org/2025/02/journalist-casualties-in-the-israel-gaza-conflict/> accessed 4 February 2025.19. Under art. 79 of the Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and relating to the Protection of Victims of International Armed Conflicts (Protocol I) (signed on 12 December 1977, entered into force on 7 December 1979) 1125 UNTS 3. “Journalists engaged in dangerous professional missions in areas of armed conflict shall be considered as civilians within the meaning of Article 50, paragraph 1”; Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (adopted 17 July 1998, entered into force 1 July 2002) 2187 UNTS 3, art 8(2).20. Al Jazeera Staff, ‘Israel Bans Al Jazeera: What Does It Mean and What Happens Next?’ Al Jazeera (6 May 2024) <https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/5/6/israel-bans-al-jazeera-what-does-it-mean-and-what-happens-next> accessed 4 February 2025.21. ‘Israel Raids and Shuts down Al Jazeera's Bureau in Ramallah in the West Bank’ AP News (22 September 2024) <https://apnews.com/article/israel-palestinians-al-jazeera-gaza-war-hamas-4abdb2969e39e7ad99dfbf9caa7bb32c> accessed 4 February 2025.22. ‘Israel Sanctions Haaretz Due to Articles That “Hurt” Israeli State’ Al Jazeera (24 November 2024) <https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/11/24/israel-sanctions-haaretz-due-to-articles-that-hurt-israeli-state> accessed 4 February 2025.23. Amjad Iraqi, ‘Israeli Military Censor Bans Highest Number of Articles in over a Decade’ +972 Magazine (20 May 2024) <https://www.972mag.com/israeli-military-censor-media-2023/> accessed 4 February 2025.24. The dehumanisation of Palestinians in traditional media is a longstanding phenomenon. See, for example, Laura Albast and Cat Knarr, ‘Opinion | How Media Coverage Whitewashes Israeli State Violence against Palestinians’ Washington Post (28 April 2022) <https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2022/04/28/jerusalem-al-aqsa-media-coverage-israeli-violence-palestinians/> accessed 4 February 2025.25. Fuad Zarbiyev, ‘“What about October 8? What about October 9? What about October 10? What about October 11?” On the Grievability of Palestinian Lives’, Geneva Graduate Institute (14 October 2024) <https://www.graduateinstitute.ch/communications/news/the-grievability-of-palestinian-lives> accessed 4 February 2025.26. ‘Human Rights Due Diligence of Meta's Impacts in Israel and Palestine | Reports | Sustainable Business Network and Consultancy’, BSR (22 September 2022) <https://www.bsr.org/en/reports/meta-human-rights-israel-palestine> accessed 4 February 2025.27. ibid 5.28. Rasha Younes, ‘Meta's Broken Promises’, Human Rights Watch (21 December 2023) <https://www.hrw.org/report/2023/12/21/metas-broken-promises/systemic-censorship-palestine-content-instagram-and> accessed 4 February 2025.29. Ellen Ioanes, ‘“From the River to Sea,” the Phrase Used amid the Israel-Hamas War, Explained’ Vox (24 November 2023) <https://www.vox.com/world-politics/23972967/river-to-sea-palestine-israel-hamas> accessed 17 February 2025.30. Human Rights Watch has found that “[i]In hundreds of cases, th[e] slogan [“From the River to the Sea”], as well as comments such as “Free Palestine,” “Ceasefire Now,” and “Stop the Genocide,” were repeatedly removed by Instagram and Facebook under “spam” Community Guidelines or Standards without appearing to take into account the context of these comments.”, ibid 27.31. See, for example, Federal Ministry of the Interior, “Announcement of a ban on associations in accordance with Section 3 of the Association Act Ban on the association ‘HAMAS (Harakat al-Muqawama al-Islamiya)” in German), 2 November 2023, available at <https://www.bundesanzeiger.de/pub/publication/M0JVrk5Qop55DhqscjE/content/M0JVrk5Qop55DhqscjE/BAnz%20AT%2002.11.2023%20B10.pdf?inline>32. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (adopted 16 December 1966, entered into force 23 March 1976) 999 UNTS 171, art 19.33. Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (European Convention on Human Rights, as amended) (ECHR), art 10.34. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (n 32), art 20.35. ibid 19(2).36. Human Rights Committee, ‘General Comment No. 34, Article 19, Freedoms of Opinion and Expression’ (2011) CCPR/C/GC/34 para 4.37. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (n 32), art 21.38. Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (n 33), art 11.39. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (n 32), art 19(3).40. Frank La Rue, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the promotion and protection of the right to freedom of opinion and expression 2011 [A/HRC/17/27] para 22.41. Khan (n 1) para 79.42. ibid, para 80.43. Tendayi Achiume, Combating glorification of Nazism, neo-Nazism and other practices that contribute to fuelling contemporary forms of racism, racial discrimination, xenophobia and related intolerance - Report of the Special Rapporteur on contemporary forms of racism, racial discrimination, xenophobia and related intolerance, E. Tendayi Achiume 2022 [A/77/512] para 71.44. ibid 76.45. Khan (n 1) para 81.46. Human Rights Committee, ‘General Comment No. 37, (2020) on the Right of Peaceful Assembly (Article 21)’ (2020) CCPR/C/GC/37 para 19; Clément Voule, Protection of human rights in the context of peaceful protests during crisis situations - Report of the Special Rapporteur on the rights to freedom of peaceful assembly and of association, Clément Nyaletsossi Voule 2022 [A/HRC/50/42] para 40.47. Voule, (n 46), para 40.48. Khan (n 1) paras 17 & 89.49. OHCHR, ‘Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights - Implementing the United Nations “Protect, Respect and Remedy” Framework’ (2011) HR/PUB/11/04 Principle 11.50. OHCHR, ‘Israel's Escalating Use of Torture against Palestinians in Custody a Preventable Crime against Humanity: UN Experts’ (5 August 2024) <https://www.ohchr.org/en/press-releases/2024/08/israels-escalating-use-torture-against-palestinians-custody-preventable> accessed 18 February 2025; Amnesty International, ‘Israel/OPT: Horrifying Cases of Torture and Degrading Treatment of Palestinian Detainees amid Spike in Arbitrary Arrests’ (8 November 2023) <https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2023/11/israel-opt-horrifying-cases-of-torture-and-degrading-treatment-of-palestinian-detainees-amid-spike-in-arbitrary-arrests/> accessed 18 February 2025.51. Khan (n 1) para 88.*This column is based and expands upon a short article previously published on the Geneva Graduate Institute website, available here https://www.graduateinstitute.ch/communications/news/silenced-voices-freedom-expression-gazaCorresponding author(s):Stefania Di Stefano, International Law Department, Geneva Graduate Institute, Geneva, Switzerland. Email: stefania.distefano@graduateinstitute.ch

Diplomacy
European and US flags in European Council in Brussels, Belgium on April 4, 2023.

Navigating uncertainty: Where are EU–US relations headed?

by Ionela Maria Ciolan , Jason C. Moyer

Abstract The transatlantic relationship is undergoing a period of critical recalibration, marked by the return of a more transactional US administration and a world order moving towards multipolarity. The return of Donald Trump to the helm of the White House with an ‘America First’ doctrine raises serious questions about US involvement in the transatlantic alliance. President Trump’s repeated claims that the EU was set up to ‘screw’ the US reflect both that his administration is unwilling to engage productively with the EU and that it distrusts multilateral forums, preferring bilateral, nation-to-nation contacts. This article seeks to bring clarity to the future US–EU relationship by identifying some of the points of contention and offering a perspective on how the transatlantic partnership can move forward constructively. KeywordsTransatlantic relations, EU–US relations, Trump administration, EU, Bilateral relations, Multipolar world order Introduction Three years after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, a new axis of power is taking form, led by Russia and China and supported by North Korea, Iran and Belarus. This shift brings a profound transformation within the global balance of power and is a direct threat to the liberal international world order. In the midst of this geopolitical recalibration, the return of Donald Trump to the helm of the White House with an ‘America First’ doctrine poses serious questions about US engagement with the transatlantic alliance. There are growing worries about the US’s willingness to continue to honour its Article 5 commitments within NATO and maintain an active role in the collective defence of Europe, but also about the role of the US as a supporter of Ukraine and the liberal multilateral rule-based system. State of play in the EU–US partnership During the first Trump administration, at the state funeral of former US president George H. W. Bush, the EU’s ambassador to the US, David O’Sullivan, was asked to stand at the back of the line-up to pay his respects, breaking diplomatic protocol (Knigge 2019). He politely acquiesced, but in the days that followed it came to light that during the first Trump administration, the US Department of State had downgraded the diplomatic status of the EU in the second half of 2018 without informing the EU Delegation in Washington (Smith 2019). Beyond the failure to communicate this important diplomatic status change, which was not well received in Brussels, and in addition to the protocol issue of having a long-serving foreign ambassador downgraded on the spot at a state funeral, this sent a clear message: the Trump administration does not respect the EU, and nor does it view the Union as an interlocutor. On many occasions during his first administration, Trump’s officials clashed with the EU. In a major foreign policy speech in Brussels, then–Secretary of State Mike Pompeo openly questioned the continued value of the EU and urged European countries to reassert their national sovereignty (Pompeo 2018). As the second Trump administration begins its work with unprecedented vigour, so far the EU has hardly featured as a consideration for the president or his top officials. At the time of writing, the nominated US ambassador to the EU, Andrew Puzder, has not yet testified (Singh and Jones 2025). In his early remarks as secretary of state, Marco Rubio has hardly mentioned the EU at all. On 29 January, the first call between High Representative Kaja Kallas and Rubio took place, alleviating some concerns about the distinct lack of US–EU dialogue taking place due to the change in administration (Liboreiro 2025). However, at the 2025 Munich Security Conference, the new US administration went beyond the usual call for European allies to spend more on defence. Vice-President JD Vance drove home the seismic shift underway in the US commitment to European defence and upended decades of policy (Quinville 2025). Moreover, on the European side, the attempts by some members of the Trump administration to support far-right candidates in Europe (as done by Elon Musk and Vance in Germany and Romania) bring a new level of discomfort and mistrust, as it looks like parts of the administration and Trump’s brand of conservatism, colloquially known as ‘Make America Great Again’ (MAGA), want to export their domestic cultural wars to Europe, thus attacking the core shared value of the transatlantic partnership: liberal democracy. A divorce or just a rough patch in transatlantic relations? Over the past seven decades, successful cooperation between the US and European institutions has helped to build the liberal multilateral world order and to uphold the UN Charter by promoting global stability and prosperity. With a combined population of nearly 800 million people, the US and the EU have the most integrated economic cooperation in the world, accounting for 43% of global GDP and 30% of global trade in goods and services (European Council 2025). President Trump’s repeated claims that the EU was set up to ‘screw’ the US reflect the Trump administration’s unwillingness to engage productively with the EU and its distrust of multilateral forums, and hence its preference for bilateral, nation-to-nation contact. The administration’s growing distrust of the EU also reflects the changing public perception of the EU among segments of the American public, such that 29% of Republicans view the EU as ‘unfriendly’ or ‘hostile’, up from 17% last year, and negative perceptions of Europe among Democrats are also slowly rising (The Economist 2025). This represents an inward turn in American society as politics becomes increasingly polarised. On the other hand, favourable attitudes among Europeans towards the US have fallen below 50%, with only around a third of Germans (32%) and the French (34%) having a positive view of the current American administration, with the least favourable views being held in Denmark, where only 20% approve (Britton 2025). Less than 100 days into his second term, at the time of writing, Trump has already broken long-standing norms and practices in US–European relations. Vance’s critical discourse at the Munich Security Conference, which harshly attacked European values, brought a major departure from traditional diplomatic language. The US vote alongside Russia and North Korea, and against traditional allies, on a UN resolution condemning Russian aggression in Ukraine and calling for the return of occupied territory to Kyiv further deepened concerns (Landale and Jackson 2025). Additional actions, such as the controversial Oval Office meeting between the Trump administration and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, the temporary suspension of intelligence and military assistance to Ukraine, the exclusion of Europeans from Ukrainian peace negotiations, and the disproportionate and unjustified tariffs on the EU have heightened European anxiety. These moves have raised fears of a possible end to the transatlantic partnership and a wider US retreat from global leadership. For most Europeans, the second Trump administration appears to be strategically prepared, driven not only by revenge in domestic politics, but also by a sense of retribution in foreign policy. But while distrust has never been higher, it would be a mistake to take the path of severing the relations between the US and the EU. The Euro-Atlantic partnership has suffered similar lows in the past, from vastly different perspectives on the US invasion of Iraq, the Obama administration’s pivot to the Indo-Pacific and the botched withdrawal from Afghanistan. Points of tension and contentionTech On tech regulation, storm clouds are already gathering as Trump has lashed out at the EU for regulating big tech companies (Doan and Stolton 2025). During the transition, the new Trump administration has been noted for the active participation of several tech CEOs. This was most evidently on display during Trump’s inauguration, which saw the likes of Mark Zuckerberg (Meta), Jeff Bezos (Amazon) and Elon Musk (Tesla), as well as other billionaires from around the world (including TikTok’s CEO) gather to welcome in the new administration (Kelly 2025). These tech CEO supporters, not usually as prominently on display in American politics, are flocking to the new administration, which has pledged massive tax cuts for billionaires, the promotion and deregulation of cryptocurrencies, and the removal of restrictions on free speech and fact-checking (Samuel 2025). The EU’s attempts to regulate big tech companies under this new administration will be even more difficult, given their close proximity to and influence on the second Trump presidency. Energy Another likely area of divergence between the US and the EU is in their approaches to energy policy and climate policy. Trump has pledged to ‘drill baby drill’, promising to fund more fossil fuel extraction and curbing green and renewable projects. He has openly called climate change a hoax and ended US participation in the Paris Climate Agreement. Meanwhile, the EU and its member states continue to invest heavily in renewables, with clean energy sources accounting for 70% of the bloc’s electricity demand in 2024 (Vetter 2025). The US, already trailing in wind power and investment in renewables, now risks falling irrevocably behind most of the developing world in clean energy production. Trump might find less of a market for fossil fuels in the EU as a result of its heavy investment in renewables, instead having to turn to other markets. Trade and tariffs On the campaign trail, Trump vowed that as president he would impose tariffs on everyone from China to neighbours, Mexico and Canada, to allies such as the EU. Although the initial tariffs placed on Mexico and Canada were swiftly lifted, a new wave of tariffs of 25% on foreign steel and aluminium was announced on 11 February. This move mirrors that of his first administration (Wiseman 2025). The EU was swift to respond, announcing a slew of counter-measures targeting iconic US products such as jeans, bourbon, peanut butter, whiskey and motorcycles. European steel companies could see as much as 3.7 million tons of steel exports lost as a result of US-imposed tariffs. Together, as noted above, the US and the EU account for about 30% of global trade, with deeply intertwined production and supply chains. However, this does not appear to be part of the Trump administration’s reasoning behind its decision to impose ‘reciprocal’ tariffs of 20% on almost all other EU products as part of its Liberation Day plan. The proposed tariffs could affect around 70% of EU exports to the US, worth around €532 billion ($585 billion) in 2024, with potential tariffs on copper, semiconductors, pharmaceuticals and timber still on the cards (Blenkinsop 2025). As the trade wars begin again, US–EU trade and economic relations will undoubtedly face difficult times over the next four years and risk undermining or limiting cooperation in other areas as a result. Responding to Trump’s announcement, President of the European Commission Ursula von der Leyen, astutely summed up: ‘The global economy will massively suffer. Uncertainty will spiral and trigger the rise of further protectionism. The consequences will be dire for millions of people around the globe’ (European Commission 2025). The EU, in addition to planning and implementing counter-measures to Trump’s tariffs, has to walk a difficult tightrope to maintain its investment ties (Casert 2025). The Arctic Trump’s approach to the Arctic in the days leading up to the transition and in his first three months, most notably his refusal to promise not to invade Greenland by force, if deemed necessary (Kayali 2025), sparked widespread condemnation from European leaders. Trump raised the idea of purchasing Greenland from Denmark in 2019 during his first term, and reasserted his intention to acquire the vast island, rich with rare earth minerals, on a fiery phone call with Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen. In response, the Danish premier garnered support among European heads of state. However, Trump’s focus on Greenland could have profound implications for the balance of power in the Arctic region. Although the Arctic is increasingly discussed in geopolitical terms, in part due to Russia’s and China’s interests in new shipping routes, it remains a zone of peace. The implications of potential NATO infighting over Greenland, and the possibility that this could accelerate Greenland’s independence, could work to China’s or Russia’s advantage and risk disrupting the balance of power in the Arctic region that has allowed peace to prevail. Defence spending The Trump administration’s renewed push for European NATO allies to spend at least 5% of their GDP on defence has reignited tensions over transatlantic burden-sharing. During his first visit to a NATO defence ministers’ meeting, US Secretary of Defense Hegseth made it clear that the US no longer sees an indefinite American presence in Europe as guaranteed (Erling 2025). While these pressures reflect Washington’s frustration over decades of unequal defence spending, they also risk undermining alliance cohesion by demanding an unrealistic increase in European defence budgets. Most European states have already significantly increased their military spending, jointly spending €326 billion on defence in 2024, an increase of 30% since 2021 (European Defence Agency 2024). And the European Commission’s recently launched ReArm Europe/Readiness 2030 initiative proposes an additional €800 billion to help EU member states fill their defence gaps and increase their military production and capacity (Gomez 2025). However, calling for a sudden escalation to 5% of GDP overlooks the political, economic and social constraints within Europe and could provoke backlash rather than cooperation. A more realistic target of 3% to 3.5% of GDP offers a more balanced and politically realistic path, consistent with strengthening NATO’s European pillar, and could be discussed as a new NATO defence commitment at the upcoming Hague Summit this summer. EU defence market The EU is developing its European Defence Technological and Industrial Base in response to the challenging new security and geopolitical reality. A key focus within the plan is strengthening the European internal market for defence, which remains heavily underdeveloped and dependent on non-EU suppliers, notably the US, which accounts for more than half of the EU’s defence procurement. The European Defence Industrial Strategy, launched in 2024 by the European Commission, proposes some ambitious objectives: by 2030, at least 50% of member states’ defence acquisitions should go to the European defence industry, rising to 60% by 2035, and 40% of these procurements should be through collaborative projects (European Commission 2024). Nevertheless, this strategy is not without challenges, as some EU member states, particularly the Eastern European countries, still favour US suppliers and see buying American defence systems as a way to foster security ties with Washington. The return of Trump, along with signs of US disengagement from Europe, has led to a renewed debate within the EU about reducing reliance on American defence capabilities and investing more in equipment ‘Made in Europe’. At the same time, the evolving US position has complicated transatlantic defence industrial cooperation. While Rubio has recently stressed the importance of continued American participation in European defence procurement, the latest EU proposals to prioritise the European defence industry have raised concern in Washington (Cook and Croucher 2025). Any move to limit access for American defence companies might provoke a political backlash, even as European leaders become increasingly worried about the credibility of the US defence commitments. Recent events such as the politicisation of US military aid to Ukraine and the unpredictability of future armament deliverables have further shaken European confidence. But despite the growing uncertainty, EU countries should remain interested in cooperation with the US, not exclusion. The challenge now is to strike a balance: to build a more autonomous and resilient European defence market while maintaining a constructive and cooperative relationship with the US. Ukraine peace negotiations The peace negotiations for Ukraine are becoming a major point of divergence between the US administration under Trump and its European allies. Trump’s main goal is to quickly end the conflict in Ukraine and position himself as a successful deal maker on the global stage. So far, his administration has shown a willingness to make significant concessions to Russia, often unilaterally and without securing reciprocal commitments from Moscow. This approach might be part of a broader strategy that includes weakening Russia’s alliance with China, securing American access to Ukrainian rare earth resources and continuing a larger US strategic pivot towards the Indo-Pacific (Mills 2025). So far, this conciliatory ‘deal making’ has caused anxiety among European leaders, who fear that a hasty or unbalanced peace agreement might lead to a forced Ukrainian capitulation and would undermine long-term European security and stability. Therefore, European countries are insisting on being part of the discussions on defining what a just, long-standing and sustainable peace should look like, a peace that secures Ukraine’s sovereignty and deters further Russian aggression on the country or continent. In parallel, European countries are formulating their own vision for a lasting peace, independent of American leadership. Recent discussions and meetings led by the UK and France are proposing a ‘coalition of the willing’ that would send 10,000 to 30,000 troops to Ukraine to enforce a future ceasefire (O’Sullivan and Khatsenkova 2025). But current plans face significant obstacles: disagreements among European states over troop commitments and mandate, fears of escalation in a direct conflict with Russia and a lack of critical defence enablers that only the US can provide. While countries such as the UK, France and Sweden are considering ‘boots on the ground’ in Ukraine, Eastern European states, notably Poland, remain reluctant, preferring to commit to logistical roles rather than direct engagement. Moreover, European allies are seeking explicit US backstop support (logistical, intelligence and political) to enhance the credibility of the deterrence of these peacekeeping forces against future Russian aggression. The way in which the Ukraine peace negotiations unfold could be a source of further tension between the US and European partners in the months and years to come. A way forward The transatlantic relationship is undergoing a period of critical recalibration, marked by the return of a more transactional US administration and a world order migrating towards multipolarity. A possible way forward in Euro-Atlantic relations is to adopt a pragmatic approach that preserves cooperation where possible while accepting a more interest-based partnership. Paradoxically, as the US pivots towards the Indo-Pacific to counterbalance China’s global rise, this may offer a new avenue for transatlantic rapprochement. Both the US and the EU increasingly recognise the need to address China’s more assertive economic and geopolitical behaviour, and both see the growing socio-political and security threats from the rise of this axis of upheaval formed of China, Russia, Iran and North Korea. For Europeans, navigating this increasingly unstable geopolitical landscape will require clarity, political maturity and a greater sense of strategic responsibility. The EU must continue to invest in its strategic autonomy—not to disengage from the US, but to become a more equal and reliable transatlantic partner. The coming months will be vital in charting a new course for transatlantic cooperation, one that emphasises increased European defence investment, a coordinated approach to the Russian and Chinese threats, the need for a deeper EU–NATO cooperation, a responsible resolution to the war in Ukraine, and a more balanced EU–US partnership. As such, European leaders will need to make a concerted effort to build bridges with the Trump administration by focusing on areas of convergence and mutual strategic interest. What lies ahead is a period of repositioning, a reordering of the transatlantic relationship from one rooted primarily in shared norms, values and principles towards a more pragmatic and transactional partnership based on common interests and careful management of differences. While challenging, this transformation could lead to a more resilient and mature transatlantic alliance, shaped by partners on an equal footing, capable of adapting to the demands of an unstable and unpredictable multipolar world order. ReferencesBlenkinsop P. (2025). EU seeks unity in first strike back at Trump tariffs. Reuters, 7 April. https://www.reuters.com/markets/eu-seeks-unity-first-strike-back-trump-tariffs-2025-04-06/. Accessed 7 April 2025.Britton H. (2025). European favourability of the USA falls following the return of Donald Trump. YouGov, 4 March. https://yougov.co.uk/international/articles/51719-european-favourability-of-the-usa-falls-following-the-return-of-donald-trump. Accessed 8 March 2025.Casert R. (2025). EU vows countermeasures to US tariffs. Bourbon, jeans, peanut butter, motorcycles are easy targets. The Associated Press, 11 February. https://apnews.com/article/eu-us-tariffs-trump-trade-war-leyen-0b23d25d30428eb288b79bfda4fa25e9. Accessed 16 February 2025.Cook E., Croucher S. (2025). Europe’s plan to ditch US weapons spooks Trump administration: Report. Newsweek, 2 April. https://www.newsweek.com/europes-plan-ditch-us-weapons-spooks-pentagon-report-2054087. Accessed 2 April 2025.Doan L., Stolton S. (2025). Trump blasts EU regulators for targeting Apple, Google, Meta. Bloomberg, 23 January. https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2025-01-23/trump-blasts-eu-regulators-for-targeting-apple-google-meta. Accessed 5 February 2025.Erling B. (2025). Hegseth tells Europe to spend on defence as US presence may not last forever. Reuters, 14 February. https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/hegseth-tells-europe-spend-defence-us-presence-continent-may-not-be-forever-2025-02-14/. Accessed 17 February 2025.European Commission. (2024). The European Defence Industrial Strategy at a glance. https://defence-industry-space.ec.europa.eu/eu-defence-industry/edis-our-common-defence-industrial-strategy_en. Accessed 5 March 2025.European Commission. (2025). Statement by President von der Leyen on the announcement of universal tariffs by the US. 3 April. https://ec.europa.Eu/commission/presscorner/detail/mt/statement_25_964. Accessed 7 April 2025.European Council. (2025). EU relations with the United States. https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/policies/united-states/. Accessed 25 March 2025.European Defence Agency. (2024). EU defence spending hits new records in 2023, 2024. 4 December. https://eda.europa.Eu/news-and-events/news/2024/12/04/eu-defence-spending-hits-new-records-in-2023-2024#. Accessed 22 January 2025.Gomez J. (2025). Readiness 2030: How is Europe planning to rearm and can it afford it? Euronews, 26 March. https://www.euronews.com/my-europe/2025/03/26/readiness-2030-how-is-europe-planning-to-rearm-and-can-it-afford-it. Accessed 27 March 2025.Kayali L. (2025). Trump doesn’t rule out military intervention in Greenland—again. Politico Europe, 30 March. https://www.politico.eu/article/usa-donald-trump-military-intervention-greenland-again-denmark/. Accessed 30 March 2025.Kelly S. (2025). Trump’s inauguration billionaires, CEOs: Ambani, Zuckerberg, Bezos attend church, ceremony. Reuters, 21 January. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/trumps-inauguration-billionaires-ceos-ambani-zuckerberg-bezos-attend-church-2025-01-20/. Accessed 12 February 2025.Knigge M. (2019). Washington downgrades EU mission to US. Deutsche Welle, 1 August. https://www.dw.com/en/trump-administration-downgrades-eu-mission-to-us/a-46990608?maca=en-Twitter-sharing. Accessed 14 January 2025.Landale J., Jackson P. (2025). US sides with Russia in UN resolutions on Ukraine. BBC, 25 February. https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c7435pnle0go. Accessed 27 February 2025.Liboreiro J. (2025). In first call, Kaja Kallas and Marco Rubio agree to keep ‘maximum pressure’ on Russia. Euronews, 29 January. https://www.euronews.com/my-europe/2025/01/29/in-first-call-kaja-kallas-and-marco-rubio-agree-to-keep-maximum-pressure-on-russia. Accessed 3 February 2025.Mills C. (2025). Ukraine and Russia: A shift in US policy. House of Commons Library UK Parliament, 3 April. https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/research-briefings/cbp-10218/. Accessed 3 April 2025.O’Sullivan D., Khatsenkova S. (2025). French President Macron announces plan for ‘reassurance force’ in Ukraine. Euronews, 27 March. https://www.euronews.com/my-europe/2025/03/27/coalition-of-the-willing-meets-in-paris-to-strengthen-support-for-ukraine. Accessed 27 March 2025.Pompeo M. R. (2018). ‘Restoring the role of the nation-state in the liberal international order’. Speech made to the members of the German Marshall Fund, Brussels, 4 December 2018. U.S. Department of State. https://2017-2021.state.gov/restoring-the-role-of-the-nation-state-in-the-liberal-international-order-2/. Accessed 20 January 2025.Quinville R. S. (2025). Making sense of the Munich Security Conference. Wilson Center, 18 February. https://www.wilsoncenter.org/article/making-sense-munich-security-conference. Accessed 22 February 2025.Samuel S. (2025). The broligarchs have a vision for the new Trump term. It’s darker than you think. Vox, 20 January. https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/395646/trump-inauguration-broligarchs-musk-zuckerberg-bezos-thiel. Accessed 7 February 2025.Singh K., Jones R. P. (2025). Trump nominates former CKE Restaurants CEO Puzder as US ambassador to EU. Reuters, 23 January. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/trump-nominates-former-cke-restaurants-ceo-puzder-us-ambassador-eu-2025-01-23/. Accessed 1 February 2025.Smith K. E. (2019). The Trump administration downgraded the E.U.’s diplomatic status in Washington. That’s going to hurt. The Washington Post, 8 January. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/monkey-cage/wp/2019/01/08/the-trump-administration-is-downgrading-the-e-u-s-diplomatic-status-in-washington-thats-going-to-hurt/. Accessed 17 January 2025.The Economist. (2025). Schooled by Trump, Americans are learning to dislike their allies. 31 March. https://www.economist.Com/graphic-detail/2025/03/31/schooled-by-trump-americans-are-learning-to-dislike-their-allies. Accessed 1 April 2025.Vetter D. (2025). As Trump dumps clean energy, fossil fuels lose their grip on Europe. Forbes, 23 January. https://www.forbes.com/sites/davidrvetter/2025/01/23/as-trump-dumps-clean-energy-fossil-fuels-lose-their-grip-on-europe/. Accessed 13 February 2025.Wiseman P. (2025). Trump once again slaps taxes on foreign steel, aluminum, a move that proved costly in his first term. The Associated Press, 10 February. https://apnews.com/article/trump-tariffs-steel-aluminum-jobs-mexico-canada-89815eeb12ff28b83f5b855ca44f1820. Accessed 15 February 2025.Corresponding author(s):Ionela Maria Ciolan, Wilfried Martens Centre for European Studies, Rue du Commerce 20, 1000 Brussels Belgium. Email: iciolan@martenscentre.eu

Diplomacy
China flag painted on a clenched fist. Strength, Power, Protest concept

The international reconfiguration's process towards multipolarity. The role of China as an emerging power

by Rachel Lorenzo Llanes

Abstract The international system is currently undergoing a process of reconfiguration that is having an impact on all areas of global development. In this process of reordering power relations, there is a tendency to move towards multipolarity, leaving behind the unipolar coalition established after the Second World War. In this context, several emerging powers are gaining increasing international power, which has led to changes in the hierarchy of power on the international geopolitical chessboard. Such is the case of the People's Republic of China, which has established itself not only as a power of great impact and relevance in the Asian region, but also in the entire international system. Namely, the management of the government and the Party in terms of innovation, industrialization, informatization, productivity, expansion and internationalization of its economic model, positions this country as the most dynamic center of the international economy. Evidencing that alternative models to the capitalist system are possible and viable, which strengthens the trend towards a systemic transition and multipolarity in the International System Introduction In the last two decades, a set of geopolitical and geoeconomic tensions and conflicts have become evident, with significant implications extending throughout the International System. As a result, we are currently experiencing a convulsion of the established order, giving way to a process of new global reconfigurations. In this context, several researchers and academics such as Jorge Casals, Leyde Rodríguez, Juan Sebastián Schulz, among others, have noted that these conditions have led to a crisis and hegemonic transition process, with a trend toward multipolarity in which the Asia-Pacific region is gaining increasing relevance. This article, titled "The International Reconfiguration’s Process Towards Multipolarity: The Role of China as an Emerging Power," is dedicated to analyzing the position of this country within the current international reconfiguration of power. Accordingly, the first section will systematize some essential guidelines to understand the current crisis and the decline of the hegemonic order established in the post-World War II period. The second section will address China's positioning amid the international reconfiguration of power. In this regard, it is important to note that China's rapid rise highlights how development management aligned with the Sustainable Development Goals can lead to a shift in the paradigm of international relations, as well as power reconfigurations that challenge the current balance of forces. Thus, it can be affirmed that China's rise constitutes a decisive element within the current trend toward multipolarity. DevelopmentNew International Order: Approaches to the Multipolar Reconfiguration of the International System The current international context is marked by a process of crisis. This crisis reflects the fact that the world order no longer aligns with the correlation of forces that gave rise to it during the post-World War II period. It is not a circumstantial crisis, but rather the interlinking of various interconnected crises that span across all sectors of life. That is to say, the effects of one crisis often become the causes of another, involving economic, political, social, cultural, ethical, moral, technological, commercial, and environmental components. In other words, it is a structural and systemic crisis—one that cannot be resolved unless a similarly systemic transformation occurs. To gain greater clarity, it is important to consider that the consolidation of the capitalist system brought about the process of globalization. This, in turn, introduced large-scale production and technological development capable of increasing output. This process, along with other characteristics of the system, has exponentially accelerated social inequalities between developed and developing countries. It has also led to strategic tensions over the control of resources, raw materials, and inputs, resulting in geopolitical conflicts. Furthermore, the capitalist system has imposed an extremely high environmental cost, demonstrating that it is exceeding both its own limits and those of the planet. Specifically, in its constant pursuit of profit and maximization of gains, negative environmental impacts are not factored into cost-benefit analyses, leading to widespread environmental degradation. Among other harms caused by the system, we observe a decline in investment rates, an increase in public debt, loss of autonomy in monetary policy, rising unemployment levels, reductions in real wages, and growing inequality, among others. In short, capitalism has become an unsustainable system whose primary concern is profit generation—something that is currently entirely incompatible with environmental preservation and the responsible use of natural resources. Therefore, it can be affirmed that some of its most alarming effects include: vast amounts of currency without backing, increasingly concentrated in fewer hands; acceleration of capital concentration in the West; rising military expenditures; and environmental pollution and destruction (Casals, J., 2023). On the other hand, it is necessary to clarify that, for a particular state to be considered hegemonic, it must not only exert its influence predominantly within the system of international relations; its hegemonic role must also be linked to the founding and establishment of a universally accepted concept of world order. That is, the majority of other states must recognize it as such and identify with the model promoted by the hegemon. Therefore, it is not merely a matter of a hierarchical order among states, but rather the adoption of a dominant model of production that involves those states. As a result, certain mechanisms or general rules of conduct are established for the participating states. For this reason, a hegemonic crisis involving the dominant actor in the system of international relations leads to a crisis in the social, economic, political, and institutional structures upon which that actor’s dominance was built. In light of these elements, we currently observe a set of powers within the International System that are vying to establish a new distribution of power—one that moves away from the unipolar coalition led by the United States following World War II. From this perspective, Juan Sebastián Schulz asserts: “A hegemonic crisis occurs when the existing hegemonic state lacks either the means or the will to continue steering the interstate system in a direction broadly perceived as favorable—not only for its own power, but also for the collective power of the dominant groups within the system.” (Schulz, J. S., 2022) As a result, strategic alliances have been formed and new power groups have emerged that influence international relations.These blocs are precisely what the new polarity is forming around, increasingly reinforcing the trend toward multipolarity. This is a system in which hegemonic influence is not determined by a single power, but by two, three, or more. In this regard, Juan Sebastián Schulz further notes that a process of insubordination is becoming evident, particularly in the Western peripheries. As a consequence, several countries have begun to criticize the configuration of the contemporary world order, initiating efforts to organize and propose alternative models (Schulz, J. S., 2022). This reveals the emergence of a new kind of power hierarchy, generating a global order in which a diversity of forces and actors prevails. In this context, China has experienced rapid growth, thereby contributing to the trend toward multipolarity. While this does not imply that the United States will cease to be one of the central powers in the system of international relations—given its considerable global influence—it is evident that there is a noticeable decline in the dominance it held during the unipolar era that emerged after the collapse of the USSR in 1991. This process of intersystemic transition unfolds in various phases. First, there is an observable economic transition marked by a shift in the center of gravity of the global economy toward emerging and developing economies. This shift is accompanied by a necessary technological transition, characterized by a new struggle—this time to lead the technological revolution. These changes, in turn, must be supported by a political transition. Currently, countries from the Global South have gained increasing prominence on the international stage [1]. From this foundation, a geopolitical transition is also underway, where the center of gravity and decision-making—once concentrated in the Anglo-Saxon West—is shifting toward the Asia-Pacific region. Finally, a cultural or civilizational transition is taking place, wherein the previously dominant value system is giving way to the rise of a new worldview. Based on this, the phases of the transition process can be outlined as follows: Existence of a stable order that brings together the majority of nation-states in the International System. - A crisis of legitimacy begins to affect the established global order. - A deconcentration and delegitimization of power emerges, impacting the hegemonic power. - An arms race and formation of alliances ensue in an attempt to preserve the hierarchical order by any means. This leads to a widespread crisis and the rise and emergence of new actors. - A necessary resolution of the international crisis. - Renewal of the system. (Schulz, J. S., 2022) In light of the above, it can be stated that a “new international order” is taking shape. Its manifestations are multifaceted, such as: - The rise of movements and associations of states that serve as alternatives to the neoliberal order. - Emerging powers like China and Russia are gaining strength in various sectors of the international geopolitical arena. - Russia's confrontation with NATO in the context of the conflict with Ukraine. - Sanctions imposed by the United States on various NATO and European Union countries have strengthened the BRICS nations. - The incorporation of new members into BRICS can be seen as an attempt to counterbalance the economic and political dominance of the United States and the European Union. - The expansion of anti-imperialist and anti-neoliberal integration mechanisms that promote South-South cooperation, such as the G-77 + China group. - The financial sanctions imposed by the West on Russia in the context of the Ukraine conflict have sparked a debate about the viability of the international monetary system and the role of the U.S. dollar as a reserve currency. - China and Russia conduct transactions in yuan and sell oil in this currency to Iran, Venezuela, and Gulf countries. China has increased its economic and political influence in the world, which can be seen as a challenge to U.S. hegemony. Its leadership within BRICS and its growing role in the global economy may be indicators of a shift in the balance of power. All these developments reflect a growing awareness within the International System of States regarding the importance of international cooperation to address global challenges such as the climate crisis, pandemics, and food security. They also serve as indicators that a transformation is underway in the way countries interact with each other, resulting in a shift in the economic, political, and strategic center of gravity. In this context, the United States has unleashed a global hybrid war as a desperate attempt to defend and maintain its hegemonic position, which once appeared unshakable in the postwar world. To this end, it has targeted China, as the latter represents its main threat in the economic and scientific-technological order. From this perspective, tensions between the United States and China have significantly deteriorated since the Republican administration of President Donald Trump. Beginning in 2017, his policy took on an aggressive stance toward China, manifesting through a trade war and economic attacks aimed at preserving U.S. global hegemony. This demonstrates that, in response to a process of decline already underway, nationalist and protectionist efforts intensified in the U.S., with policies targeting some of the emerging pillars of the crisis-ridden world order—China being a primary example. Under the administration of Joseph Biden, the focus shifted toward competition, emphasizing the commitment to protect U.S. sovereignty from potential Chinese threats. A significant shift in U.S. foreign policy toward Taiwan became evident with the approval of arms sales to Taiwan in August 2023, which escalated tensions in the region (Collective of Authors). Furthermore, in recent years, the United States has increasingly worked to generate geopolitical and geoeconomic motivations aimed at fostering tensions between China and Russia, potentially sparking conflict between the two. It has strengthened alliances with neighboring countries of these powers—most notably Taiwan and Ukraine—which has triggered concerns and tensions in both nations. A containment policy has also been deployed, including the imposition of trade barriers and tariffs on Chinese products; restricting Chinese companies’ access to U.S. technology and markets; and promoting the diversification of supply chains to reduce dependence on China. Nevertheless, the ongoing sanctions and restrictions have only served to reaffirm the shared survival interests of both powers, strengthening corporate ties and relations between them. These actions also reflect the growing concern among U.S. power groups over the decline of their hegemonic dominance. The Emergence of China and Its Role in the Transition Toward Multipolarity In a previous article titled "The Synergy Between Economy and Environment in China Through the Achievement of the Sustainable Development Goals," (‘La sinergia entre economía y medio ambiente en China mediante la consecución de los Objetivos de Desarrollo Sostenible’) the process of socioeconomic transformations experienced in the People's Republic of China over the past decade was discussed. These transformations have been primarily aimed at revitalizing the nation in preparation for its centenary in 2049. This strategy is rooted in aligning the Centenary Goals with the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) set for 2030, under the leadership of the Communist Party and the momentum driven by President Xi Jinping. The results of this strategy have had an impact not only on the Asian Giant itself—now a decisive actor in the Asian region—but also on the international order as a whole. As a result, China has emerged as a powerful rising power, with promising prospects for further elevating its development standards. This is backed by sustained GDP growth, averaging between 6% and 8% annually, indicating a robust economy. In addition, China holds vast foreign exchange reserves, granting it economic stability and the capacity to withstand potential external shocks. It also invests heavily in modern infrastructure and cutting-edge sectors such as artificial intelligence, 5G technology, and renewable energy—all of which enhance its competitiveness and lay the groundwork for long-term sustainable growth (Lagarde, CH). Nonetheless, China has also had to confront significant challenges in its gradual and progressive approach to the desired development model. Among these is the environmental cost associated with its rapid economic growth. For instance, China still experiences high levels of greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions, along with air, water, and soil pollution. In response, measures have been implemented such as the establishment of a national monitoring network and the replacement of coal heating systems in Beijing. Efforts have also been made to purify water resources polluted by industrial processes, and imports of solid waste have been reduced to help decontaminate soils affected by industrial and agricultural activities (González, R., 2023). In general, the development of renewable energy and a circular economy model is being promoted to enable a gradual transition toward a green economy, grounded in the concept of an ecological civilization. For this reason, China’s new era is committed to scientific and technological innovation as a means of driving economic growth that is both sustainable and capable of ensuring a higher quality of life for its population. This, in turn, leads gradually toward a new model of political leadership and economic management. In this regard, Jin Keyu, Professor of Economics at the London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE), has stated that “trillions of dollars of investment are needed for the global green transition, and China is going to play an essential role in that transformation” (Feingold, S., 2024). Based on the aforementioned elements, various authors such as Dr. C. Charles Pennaforte, Dr. C. Juan Sebastián Schulz, Dr. C. Eduardo Regalado Florido, among others, have indicated that the millenary nation represents a threat to the hegemony held by the United States since World War II. Consequently, it is recognized that a process of hegemonic crisis and transition is currently underway, with the Asia-Pacific region emerging as the center of gravity of the global power, thereby contributing to the multipolar transformation of the International System. The authors of “Is China Changing the World?” argue that “market socialism with “Chinese characteristics” must gradually and more clearly diverge from capitalism if it is to embody a genuinely alternative path for all of humanity.” In pursuit of this goal, China bases its policy of peaceful coexistence on five fundamental principles:Respect for sovereignty and territorial integrity, regardless of a country's size, power, or wealth. Mutual non-aggression Non-interference in the internal affairs of other countries, acknowledging that each nation has the right to freely choose its own social system and path of development. Equality and mutual benefit Peaceful coexistence. (Herrera, R.; Long, Z.; and Andréani, T., 2023) The rise of China as a major international power under these principles has been consolidating since 2012 under the leadership of Xi Jinping and the Communist Party of China (CPC), gaining particular momentum from 2020 to the present. Thus, China has not only become the leading power within the Asian regional balance but has also expanded its presence across Europe, Africa, and Latin America—primarily through loans, investments, and multilateral cooperation initiatives such as the Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC) in Africa and the China-CELAC Forum in Latin America. In addition, China has positioned itself as a leader in several sectors, and it is projected that its economy may surpass that of the United States, increasing its Gross Domestic Product (Rodríguez, L., 2022). It has also undergone a process of opening up, energizing both its international trade and its overall foreign relations, all under the control of the Government and the Party. This, combined with its rise and development initiatives, has made China a focal point of interest for many countries within the International System seeking to jointly advance projects based on cooperation, the principle of shared advantage, and multilateralism. In this regard, the white paper "China and the World in the New Era," published by the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China in 2019, states: “The world is moving rapidly toward multipolarity, diverse models of modern development, and collaboration in global governance. It is now impossible for a single country or bloc of countries to dominate world affairs. Stability, peace, and development have become the common aspirations of the international community.” (People’s Republic of China, 2019. Quoted in Schulz, J. S., 2022) Undoubtedly, this rise has become a source of concern for U.S. power groups, which have increasingly applied geostrategic pressure. Notably, the United States has strengthened military alliances with India, Japan, and Australia in an effort to encircle China and attempt to control or obstruct its maritime routes—this also being a manifestation of the intensification of the imperialist arms race. Nonetheless, China has maintained its development strategy and, as part of it, has strengthened its diplomatic network and its relations with multiple countries across all world regions. For all these reasons, China has become the most dynamic center of the global economy. Notably, it went from representing 4% of global GDP in 1960 to 16% in 2020—undeniable evidence of rapid economic growth. Moreover, it has become the world’s largest exporter of goods and also the leading importer, establishing itself as a major industrial power. In this regard, United Nations data reveal that China leads global industrial production, accounting for 30% of the total. This figure surpasses other industrial powers such as the United States (16%), Japan (7%), Germany (5.7%), and South Korea (3.2%) (Schulz, J. S., 2022). In addition, China has remained the world’s leading manufacturing power for approximately 15 consecutive years, according to statements from the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology at the beginning of this year. This sector alone has contributed over 40% to overall growth. Likewise, in 2024, China experienced a significant increase in foreign investment, reflecting its interest in strengthening international cooperation for development. Efforts are also underway for urban renewal in 2024, with around 60,000 projects being implemented across various cities. These initiatives are primarily aimed at transforming underdeveloped neighborhoods and creating smarter urban areas (Embassy of the Republic of Cuba in the People's Republic of China, 2025). In this regard, the following graphs illustrate the value of China’s international trade during the 2016–2024 period, highlighting a strong presence of exports compared to imports. A second chart shows China's global export share, where it holds a dominant position.   Thus, China has risen as a center of power in the international system, with leadership not only in the economic domain but also in science and technology. At the same time, it has promoted a series of investments and a process of internationalizing its national currency. Accordingly, the Asian Giant offers an alternative model of development—one that is more comprehensive and sustainable—allowing it to propel the new phase of Chinese development. This phase aims not only to fulfill the dream of national rejuvenation but also to ensure the survival of its unique political, economic, and social model. Nevertheless, the significant challenges of sustaining growth cannot be overlooked. From this perspective, experts believe that new avenues of growth will be necessary for China to maintain the trajectory it has been experiencing. Specifically, the country must continue expanding its industrial sector while strengthening areas such as artificial intelligence, digital financial services, and green technologies (Feingold, S., 2024). It is also important to highlight the projected continuity and leadership of the Chinese government, with Xi Jinping identified as a key figure in the implementation of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) in China, in conjunction with the socioeconomic transformation strategy toward the 2049 centenary. This has been pursued through the defense of multilateralism, economic openness, and international integration and cooperation in support of global development. Conclusions In light of the above, a decline in U.S. hegemony can be observed, even though this process is not linear—nor is it certain whether any single power or coalition has come to occupy a hegemonic position. What is clear, however, is the existence of a trend toward multipolarity, driven by emerging powers and the strategic ties they are establishing. This is giving rise to a non-hegemonic reconfiguration of power blocs, which are building a multilateral and multipolar institutional framework. It can also be affirmed that China has become the most dynamic center of the global economy. This has been supported by its growth strategy focused on industrialization, digitalization, innovation, productivity, expansion, and internationalization of its development model—while maintaining a strong emphasis on environmental sustainability. A range of key initiatives and development projects have been implemented to support the country's rise, consolidating its role in the multipolar reconfiguration of the International System. All of this has been essential in driving China’s new phase of development and contributing to the broader process of multipolar transformation. Undoubtedly, China’s rapid ascent represents a significant challenge to the International System, as it reflects a shift in international relations and a transformation in the distribution and hierarchy of global power. Notes [1] It is important to clarify that the so-called Global South should not be equated with the Third World, as the distinction between the First and Third Worlds is primarily based on economic and technological differences, which do not align with the current circumstances of the International System of States. In contrast, the term Global South emerges from a new geopolitical perspective that arose in the post–Cold War context, driven by the need to promote South-South cooperation. Moreover, it does not refer to a geographically defined region, as it includes nations from Latin America, the Caribbean, Africa, and the Asia-Pacific.Revista Política Internacional | Volumen VII Nro. 2 abril-junio de 2025. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.15103898This is an open access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC 4.0). The opinions and contents of the published documents are solely the responsibility of their authors.ReferencesCasals, J. (2023). “El Nuevo orden global: amenazas y oportunidades”. Cuadernos de Nuestra América. Nueva época. No.5. RNPS: 2529.Colectivo de autores. “Crisis de hegemonía y ascenso de China. Seis tendencias para una transición”. Tricontinental. Instituto Tricontinental de Investigacion social. Buenoos Aires. Libro digital, PDF, Archivo Digital: descarga y online.Embajada de la República de Cuba en la República Popular China. (2025). Boletín informativo China-22 de enero de 2025. Oficina de Información y Análisis. Embajada de Cuba en República Popular China. Redacción y envío desde info3@embacuba.cn.Feingold, S. (2024). "¿Hacia dónde va la economía china?". World Economic Forum. Recuperado de: https://es.weforum.org/stories/2024/07/hacia-dondeva-la-economia-de-china/García-Herrero, A. (2024). "10 puntos y 18 gráficos sobre la política económica de Xi Jinping tras el tercer pleno". El Grand Continent. Recuperado de: https:// legrandcontinent.eu/es/2024/09/19/esta-china-estancada-10-puntos-y-18-graficos-sobre-la-politicaeconomica-de-xi-jinping-tras-el-tercer-pleno/González, R. (2023). " Medio ambiente en China: Impactos y respuestas del Partido y el Gobierno". CIPI. Recuperado de: www.cipi.cu/medio-ambiente- en-china-impactos-y-respuestas-del-partido-y-gobierno/Lagarde, CH. "Impulsar el crecimiento económico y adaptarse al cambio". Fondo Monetario Internacional. Discursos. Recuperado de: https://www.imf.org/ es/News/Articles/2016/09/27/AM16-SP09282016- Boosting-Growth-Adjusting-to-ChangePereira, CM (2022): “La reemergencia de China frente a la globalización neoliberal y el desafío de la conformación de un mundo multipolar”. Cuadernos de Nuestra America. Nueva Época. No. 05. RNPS: 2529.Schulz, J S. (2022). “Crisis sistémica del orden mundial, transición hegemónica y nuevos actores en el escenario global”. Cuadernos de Nuestra América. Nueva Época. No.03. RNPS: 2529. Bibliografía consultadaAmbrós, I. (2021). “ El Partido Comunista y los desafíos internos de China en el siglo XX”. Recuperado de: https://www.ieee.es/Galerias/fichero/cuadernos/ CE_212/Cap_1_El_Partido_C omunista_y_los_desafios_internos.pdfBanco Mundial (BM). (2023). Recuperado de: https:// datos.bancomundial.org/indicator/NY.GDP.PCAP. KD?locations=CNBBC News Mundo. (2021). "Cómo consiguió China erradicar la pobreza extrema (y las dudas que despierta ese triunfal anuncio del gobierno de Xi". Recuperado de: https://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias-internacional-56205219Boy, M. (2020). “ Crisis económica y medio ambiente: ¿cómo promover un desarrollo sustentable?”. Recuperado de: https://culturacolectiva.com/opinion/crisis-economica-y-medio-ambiente- mariana-boy-columna-opinion/García, A. (2021). “La globalización neoliberal en crisis”. Recuperado de http://www.cubadebate.cu/opinion/2021/08/30/la-globalizacion-neoliberal-en- crisisGonzález, R. (2020). “El Quinto Pleno del XIX Comité Central del Partido Comunista abre una nueva etapa para China” en “Transiciones del Siglo XXI y China: China y perspectivas post pandemia II”. Libro digital.Herrera, R; Long, Z y Andréani, T. (2023). “¿Está China transformando el mundo?”. Revista Política Internacional. Volumen V. Nro. 1 enero-marzo de 2023.ISSN 2707-7330.Liu, X. y González G. (2021) “El XIV Plan Quinquenal 2021- 2025: reto para el nuevo modelo de desarrollo económico de China”. México y la Cuenca del Pacífico. Vol 10, núm. 30. Recuperado de https://www.scielo.org. mx/pdf/mcp/v10n30/2007-5308-mcp-10-30-57.pdfOtero, M (2022). “La prosperidad común y la circulación dual: el nuevo modelo de desarrollo de China”. Recuperado de: https://www.realinstitutoelcano.org/analisis/la-prosperidad-comun-y-lacirculacion-dual-el-nuevo-modelo-de-desarrollo-de-china/Regalado, E. y Molina, E. (Coord.) (2021). “China y sus relaciones internacionales”. Asociación Venezolana de Estudios sobre China (AVECH) / CEAA / ULA – Centro de Investigaciones de Política Internacional (CIPI, Cuba), Libro digital.Rodríguez, L. (2022). “Configuración multipolar del sistema internacional del siglo XXI”. Revista Política Internacional. Volumen IV Nro. 1 enero-marzo de 2022. ISSN 2707-7330.Weiss, A. (2024). "La frágil fortaleza económica de Estados Unidos". The Economist. Recuperado de: https:// www.lavanguardia.com/dinero/20240212/9516764/ economia-eeuu- fortaleza-fragil-ia-bolsa-mercados. htmlYang, W. (2015). "La Planificación y Recomendaciones del XIII Plan Quinquenal". Recuperado de: https:// politica-china.org/wp- content/uploads/6sei-yangweimin-ES.pdf .

Diplomacy
Main img

US backs Nato’s latest pledge of support for Ukraine, but in reality seems to have abandoned its European partners

by Stefan Wolff

Recent news from Ukraine has generally been bad. Since the end of May, ever larger Russian air strikes have been documented against Ukrainian cities with devastating consequences for civilians, including in the country’s capital, Kyiv. Amid small and costly but steady gains along the almost 1,000km long frontline, Russia reportedly took full control of the Ukrainian region of Luhansk, part of which it had already occupied before the beginning of its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. And according to Dutch and German intelligence reports, some of Russia’s gains on the battlefield are enabled by the widespread use of chemical weapons. It was therefore something of a relief that Nato’s summit in The Hague produced a short joint declaration on June 25 in which Russia was clearly named as a “long-term threat … to Euro-Atlantic security”. Member states restated “their enduring sovereign commitments to provide support to Ukraine”. While the summit declaration made no mention of future Nato membership for Ukraine, the fact that US president Donald Trump agreed to these two statements was widely seen as a success. Yet, within a week of the summit, Washington paused the delivery of critical weapons to Ukraine, including Patriot air defence missiles and long-range precision-strike rockets. The move was ostensibly in response to depleting US stockpiles. This despite the Pentagon’s own analysis, which suggested that the shipment – authorised by the former US president Joe Biden last year – posed no risk to US ammunition supplies. This was bad news for Ukraine. The halt in supplies weakens Kyiv’s ability to protect its large population centres and critical infrastructure against intensifying Russian airstrikes. It also puts limits on Ukraine’s ability to target Russian supply lines and logistics hubs behind the frontlines that have been enabling ground advances. Despite protests from Ukraine and an offer from Germany to buy Patriot missiles from the US for Ukraine, Trump has been in no rush to reverse the decision by the Pentagon.   Another phone call with his Russian counterpart, Vladimir Putin, on July 3, failed to change Trump’s mind, even though he acknowledged his disappointment with the clear lack of willingness by the Kremlin to stop the fighting. What’s more, within hours of the call between the two presidents, Moscow launched the largest drone attack of the war against Kyiv. A day later, Trump spoke with Zelensky. And while the call between them was apparently productive, neither side gave any indication that US weapons shipments to Ukraine would resume quickly. Trump previously paused arms shipments and intelligence sharing with Ukraine in March, 2025 after his acrimonious encounter with Zelensky in the Oval Office. But the US president reversed course after certain concessions had been agreed – whether that was an agreement by Ukraine to an unconditional ceasefire or a deal on the country’s minerals. It is not clear with the current disruption whether Trump is after yet more concessions from Ukraine. The timing is ominous, coming after what had appeared to be a productive Nato summit with a unified stance on Russia’s war of aggression. And it preceded Trump’s call with Putin. This could be read as a signal that Trump was still keen to accommodate at least some of the Russian president’s demands in exchange for the necessary concessions from the Kremlin to agree, finally, the ceasefire that Trump had once envisaged he could achieve in 24 hours. If this is indeed the case, the fact that Trump continues to misread the Russian position is deeply worrying. The Kremlin has clearly drawn its red lines on what it is after in any peace deal with Ukraine. These demands – virtually unchanged since the beginning of the war – include a lifting of sanctions against Russia and no Nato membership for Ukraine, while also insisting that Kyiv must accept limits on its future military forces and recognise Russia’s annexation of Crimea and four regions on the Ukrainian mainland. This will not change as a result of US concessions to Russia but only through pressure on Putin. And Trump has so far been unwilling to apply pressure in a concrete and meaningful way beyond the occasional hints to the press or on social media. Coalition of the willing It is equally clear that Russia’s maximalist demands are unacceptable to Ukraine and its European allies. With little doubt that the US can no longer be relied upon to back the European and Ukrainian position, Kyiv and Europe need to accelerate their own defence efforts. A European coalition of the willing to do just that is slowly taking shape. It straddles the once more rigid boundaries of EU and Nato membership and non-membership, involving countries such as Moldova, Norway and the UK. and including non-European allies including Canada, Japan and South Korea. The European commission’s white paper on European defence is an obvious indication that the threat from Russia and the needs of Ukraine are being taken seriously and, crucially, acted upon. It mobilises some €800 billion (£690 billion) in defence spending and will enable deeper integration of the Ukrainian defence sector with that of the European Union. At the national level, key European allies, in particular Germany, have also committed to increased defence spending and stepped up their forward deployment of forces closer to the borders with Russia. US equivocation will not mean that Ukraine is now on the brink of losing the war against Russia. Nor will Europe discovering its spine on defence put Kyiv immediately in a position to defeat Moscow’s aggression. After decades of relying on the US and neglecting their own defence capabilities, these recent European efforts are a first step in the right direction. They will not turn Europe into a military heavyweight overnight. But they will buy time to do so.

Diplomacy
Ursula von der Leyen & Emmanuel Macron - Choose Europe for Science event at La Sorbonne - 2025

Opinion – European Credibility and the Illusion of Normative Power

by Joseph Black

한국어로 읽기 Leer en español In Deutsch lesen Gap اقرأ بالعربية Lire en français Читать на русском On 30 May 2025, French President Emmanuel Macron delivered a speech at the Shangri-La Dialogue in Singapore – Asia’s premier security summit – and his comments were unusually blunt. He warned that the West – Europe and the US – risk losing credibility over the wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and unless these conflicts are resolved with integrity and consistency, the broader rules-based international order and Europe’s place in it will unravel. Macron’s concern wasn’t just about the tactical consequences of geopolitical instability, but something deeper: the symbolic and normative weight Europe claims to carry in global affairs. His comments mark a turning point, one that exposes the crisis of coherence at the heart of the European Union’s foreign policy – and the growing tension between the EU’s aspirational identity as a “normative power” and the harsh realities of a world governed by realpolitik. For over two decades, the EU has presented itself as a values-based actor, using diplomacy, development aid, legal harmonisation and multilateralism rather than coercion to wield influence. The concept of the EU as a “normative power” – famously coined by Ian Manners – is based on the idea that Europe seeks to shape global affairs by promoting norms such as human rights, democracy and international law. But the simultaneous occurrence of two deeply symbolic and contested wars – Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and Israel’s bombardment of Gaza – makes it increasingly hard for the EU to maintain this self-image without being accused of hypocrisy and selective morality. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the gap between Europe’s response to Ukraine and Gaza. In Ukraine, the EU has mounted one of the largest and most united responses in its history: military aid, sanctions, diplomatic isolation of Russia and open arms for Ukrainian refugees. In Gaza, the response has been fragmented, inconsistent and – by many accounts – morally ambiguous. Some European states like Ireland and Spain have called for recognition of Palestinian statehood and condemned Israeli actions, others have hesitated or doubled down on support for Israel in the name of counterterrorism and alliance politics. This has not gone unnoticed in the Global South, where Europe’s normative claims are increasingly seen as hollow, if not ridiculous. Macron’s talk of credibility reflects an elite awareness that Europe’s legitimacy is no longer taken for granted outside its borders. The credibility crisis he describes is not just about diplomacy – it’s about identity. If the EU says territorial integrity is sacred in Ukraine, how can it do nothing when the same principles are being flouted elsewhere? If the Union says human rights are universal, can it be silent – or ambiguous – on the civilian casualties in Gaza? These are not questions asked by foreign policy analysts; they are asked in international forums, in Asian capitals courted by Brussels and in the protests that fill European streets. The more the EU fails to match its words with its actions, the more its normative brand erodes. But there’s another layer to Macron’s intervention that needs to be looked at. His comments on “strategic autonomy” and not being caught in the crossfire of the US-China rivalry suggest Europe is dealing with more than just a credibility crisis. It’s facing a strategic choice that will redefine its global role: whether to double down on the postwar transatlantic compact or to chart a more independent course that allows it to mediate between blocs in a multipolar world. Macron’s consistent advocacy of strategic autonomy (however controversial) means he recognises the EU can’t outsource its geopolitical relevance to Washington indefinitely, especially with the return of Donald Trump to the White House. This dilemma is made worse by the structural weaknesses within the EU itself. The Union’s foreign policy is crippled by institutional fragmentation, national interests and a consensus-based decision-making process that often leads to lowest-common-denominator positions. While the EU was impressive in its initial unity on Ukraine, the Gaza crisis has shown the limits of that unity when values collide with political alliances or domestic political considerations. This is not just a crisis of perception but of capacity. Can the EU actually be a geopolitical player when its member states can’t even agree on what is legitimate force, occupation or humanitarian necessity? The illusion of normative power, then, is not just an external branding problem – it is an internal governance challenge. For Europe to maintain credibility abroad, it must first reconcile its internal contradictions. That means rethinking the balance between values and interests, between ideals and strategic imperatives. It may also require a degree of institutional boldness: deeper integration in foreign and security policy, a greater role for the High Representative, or a shift toward qualified majority voting in foreign affairs. At the same time, Europe must also acknowledge the changing global landscape in which it seeks to operate. In a world no longer dominated by Western hegemony, the EU’s normative influence depends not only on its coherence but on its ability to listen and engage with actors in Asia, Africa, and Latin America as equals rather than as recipients of European lectures. Macron’s call for a “positive new alliance” between Europe and Asia, one that resists domination by any superpower, hints at a potential path forward. But such an alliance will only be credible if Europe demonstrates that it is willing to apply its principles even when inconvenient—especially when those principles are tested not just by adversaries but by allies. In the end, Macron’s speech serves as a mirror held up to the European project itself. It reflects both its aspirations and its anxieties, its potential and its paradoxes. Whether Europe can move beyond this moment of crisis to forge a foreign policy that is both principled and strategic remains uncertain. What is clear, however, is that credibility cannot be commanded—it must be earned. And in an era of increasing global scrutiny, that will require more than rhetoric. It will require resolve. The text of this work is licensed under  a Creative Commons CC BY-NC 4.0 license.