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At a high-stakes meeting at the White House on August 18, the US president, Donald Trump, and his Ukrainian counterpart, Volodymyr Zelensky, tried to hammer out the broad contours of a potential peace agreement with Russia. The tone of their encounter was in marked contrast to their last joint press conference in Washington back in February which ended with Zelensky’s humiliation by Trump and his vice president, J.D. Vance. The outcomes of the presidential get-together, and the subsequent, expanded meeting with leaders of the European coalition of the willing, were also a much more professional affair than Trump’s summit with his Russian counterpart, Vladimir Putin, on August 15. The results of the meetings in the White House were still far from perfect. But they are a much better response to the reality in which Ukrainians have lived for the past more than three-and-a-half years than what transpired during and after the brief press conference held by the two leaders after their meeting in Alaska. This relatively positive outcome was not a foregone conclusion. Over the weekend, Trump had put out a statement on his Truth Social platform that: “President Zelenskyy (sic) of Ukraine can end the war with Russia almost immediately”. But this came with the proviso that Zelensky would need to accept Ukraine’s loss of Crimea to Russia and forego his country’s future Nato membership. This, and similar ideas of land swaps between Russia and Ukraine, have already been roundly rejected by the Ukrainian president. Importantly, Kyiv’s position has been fully backed by Ukraine’s European allies. Leaders of the coalition of the willing issued a joint statement on August 16 to the effect that any territorial concessions were Ukraine’s to make or refuse. On Nato membership, their statement was more equivocal. European leaders asserted that Russia should not be allowed to have a veto on Ukraine’s choices. But the coalition’s reiteration of the commitment that it is “ready to play an active role” in guaranteeing Ukraine’s future security opened up a pathway to Trump to “Article 5-like protections” for Ukraine against future Russian aggression and promising “a lot of help when it comes to security”. Nato’s Article 5 guarantees that an attack on one member is an attack on all and commits the alliance to collective defence. A possibly emerging deal – some territorial concessions by Ukraine in exchange for peace and joint US and European security guarantees – appeared to become more certain during the televised meeting between Trump and his visitors before their closed-door discussions. In different ways, each of the European guests acknowledged the progress that Trump had made towards a settlement and they all emphasised the importance of a joint approach to Russia to make sure that any agreement would bring a just and lasting peace. As an indication that his guests were unwilling to simply accept whatever deal he had brought back with him from his meeting with Putin in Alaska, the US president then interrupted the meeting to call the Russian president. Signals from Russia were far from promising with Moscow rejecting any Nato troop deployments to Ukraine and singling out the UK as allegedly seeking to undermine the US-Russia peace effort. Peace remains elusive When the meeting concluded and the different leaders offered their interpretations of what had been agreed, two things became clear. First, the Ukrainian side had not folded under pressure from the US, and European leaders, while going out of their way to flatter Trump, held their ground as well. Importantly, Trump had not walked away from the process either but appeared to want to remain engaged. Second, Russia had not given any ground, either. According to remarks by Putin’s foreign policy advisor, Yuri Ushakov, posted on the Kremlin’s official website, Russia would consider “the possibility of raising the level of representatives of the Ukrainian and Russian parties”. His statement falls short of, but does not rule out, the possibility of a Zelensky-Putin summit, which Trump announced as a major success after the White House meetings yesterday. Such a meeting was seen as the next logical step towards peace by all the participants of the White House meeting and would be followed, according to Trump, by what he called “a Trilat” of the Ukrainian, Russian and American presidents. The lack of clear confirmation by Russia that such meetings would indeed happen raises more doubts about the Kremlin’s sincerity. But the fact that a peace process – if it can be called that – remains somewhat intact is a far cry from an actual peace agreement. Little if anything was said in the aftermath of the White House meeting on territorial issues. Pressure on Russia only came up briefly in comments by European leaders, whose ambitions to become formally involved in actual peace negotiations remain a pipe dream for the time being. And, despite the initial optimism about security guarantees, no firm commitments were made with Zelensky only noting “the important signal from the United States regarding its readiness to support and be part of these guarantees”. Peace in Ukraine thus remains elusive, for now. The only tangible success is that whatever Trump imagines as the process to a peace agreement did not completely fall apart. But as this process unfolds, its progress, if any, happens at a snail’s pace. Meanwhile the Russian war machine deployed against Ukraine grinds forward. At the end of the day, yesterday’s events changed little. They merely confirmed that Putin keeps playing for time, that Trump is unwilling to put real pressure on him and that Ukraine and Europe have no effective leverage on either side. Trump boldly claimed ahead of his meetings with Zelensky and the leaders of the coalition of the willing that he knew exactly what he was doing. That may be true – but it may also not be enough without knowing and understanding what his counterpart in the Kremlin is doing.

In a landmark advisory opinion, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruled on 23 July 2025 that all UN member states have legal obligations under international law to address climate change, which the court described as an existential threat to life on Earth. Powerful countries too must be held responsible for their current emissions and past inaction. Possibly in anticipation of such a ruling, Chris Wright, the US Secretary of Energy and former chief executive of Liberty Energy (an oilfield services company), published an article in The Economist a week earlier, arguing that “climate change is a by-product of progress, not an existential crisis”. Whereas the ICJ relied primarily on the IPCC reports, “which participants agree constitute the best available science on the causes, nature and consequences of climate change”, Wright’s view is based on a particular temporal logic.  According to the IPCC reports, most greenhouse gases come from burning fossil fuels, with additional emissions from agriculture, deforestation, industry, and waste. They drive global warming, which is projected to reach 1.5°C between 2021 and 2040, with 2°C likely to follow. Even 1.5°C is not considered safe for most nations, communities, and ecosystems, and according to IPCC, only deep, rapid, and sustained emission cuts can slow warming and reduce the escalating risks and damages. The 2024 state of the climate report, published in BioScience, presents even more worrying assessments. Among other things, the report cites surveys indicating that nearly 80% of these scientists anticipate global temperatures increasing by at least 2.5°C above preindustrial levels by the end of the century, and nearly half of them foresee a rise of at least 3°C.  Wright’s article suggests that the issue of amplifying doubt about climate change may have little to do with engagement with science but rather reflects a deeper temporal logic. This logic is rooted in a Whiggish account of progress to date, a resistance to the reality of the future and the desire for nostalgic restoration. I will explain these elements one by one. The first tier: Whiggism Wright disagrees with most scientific anticipations. His views are likely representative not only of the Trump II administration but also of conservative right-wing populism more generally. It is difficult to understand their climate denialism without an analysis of their views on time and temporality. The most important question concerns the reality of the future. At the first level, Wright provides a kind of textbook example of Whig history, portraying progress as linear, inevitable, and driven by liberal values. Herbert Butterfield introduced the idea of Whig history in his influential 1931 book The Whig Interpretation of History as a critique of a specific way of writing history that he regarded as flawed and intellectually dishonest. Focusing on inevitable progress distorts historical analysis by promoting simplified cause-and-effect reasoning and selective storytelling, emphasising present-day evaluation (and glorification) over understanding the real causes of historical change. In a Whiggish manner, Wright claims that the last 200 years have seen two big changes to the human condition: “human liberty” and affordable energy. As a result of these two things, life expectancy has nearly doubled, and the percentage of people living in extreme poverty has dropped from 90% to 10%. However, Wright’s argumentation is based on non-contextual and, in that sense, timeless representations of the world, despite its “progressivism”.  For example, consider the claim that extreme poverty has dropped from 90% to 10%. It is based on using a fixed dollar threshold, such as USD 2 per day, to measure poverty over 200 years. This is misleading because most people in the 19th century lived in largely non-monetised economies where subsistence needs were met outside of market exchange, and monetary income was minimal or irrelevant. These metrics also obscure shifting and context-bound definitions of basic needs; rely on incomplete historical data; and ignore the role of colonial dispossession and structural inequality in shaping global poverty. While it is true that life expectancy has doubled, largely due to improvements in hygiene and healthcare, the idea that extreme poverty has plummeted from 90% to under 10% also ignores the fact that the global population has grown eightfold, affecting the entire Earth system with devastating ecological and geological consequences. It further ignores that the rise in life expectancy and poverty reduction has come not only from liberalism or economic growth more generally but from ethical and political struggles and public health interventions. Often, these struggles have been fought in the name of socialism and won despite capitalist incentives, market mechanisms, and related political forces. The second tier: blockism At a deeper level, Wright’s views seem to presuppose what Roy Bhaskar calls “blockism”: the postulation of a simultaneous conjunctive totality of all events. This may sound abstract, but it has been a common assumption among many 20th-century physicists and philosophers that the universe forms a static, closed totality. This view stems from an atomist ontology, where individuals are seen as abstract, events follow regular patterns, time is viewed as spatial, and laws that can be expressed mathematically are considered reversible.  In such a conception, time appears as just another “spatial” dimension. According to the block universe model, the past, present, and future all exist equally and tenselessly. The universe is imagined as a four-dimensional geometric object, like a “block” of spacetime. Time is not something that “flows” or “passes”; instead, all moments are spatially extended points in a timeless whole. Blockism suggests that change and becoming are not truly real but are simply parts of our subjective experience.  The real challenge is to reconcile Whiggism and blockism. Wright is not a theorist and might not need to worry about the coherence of his ideas, but the issue is that Whiggism assumes movement, direction, and a normatively positive evolution of change, whereas the block universe denies real temporality: there is no becoming, no novelty, no agency – only timeless existence. Some versions of the block universe attempt to preserve development by proposing that the block grows. The “block” expands as new events are added to reality, but in this view, the present defines the upper boundary of the block, and the future is not truly real. This appears to be consistent with what Wright says about climate change. Everything he has to say about global warming is limited to one short paragraph: We will treat climate change as what it is: not an existential crisis but a real, physical phenomenon that is a by-product of progress. Yes, atmospheric CO2 has increased over time – but so has life expectancy. Billions of people have been lifted out of poverty. Modern medicine, telecommunications and global transportation became possible. I am willing to take the modest negative trade-off for this legacy of human advancement. From the ICJ’s perspective, this interpretation is dreadful, as the current impacts of climate change are already at odds with the rights of many groups of people. It also exhibits basic injustice, as many of the groups that suffer the most from these impacts have done next to nothing to cause the problem. However, here I am mostly concerned with the temporality of Wright’s claims. This temporality is a combination of Whiggism and blockism: so far, history has exhibited progress, but time and processes stop here, in our present moment. The third tier: nostalgia Wright’s view of time is not limited to an ultimately incoherent combination of Whiggism and blockism. There is also more than a mere hint of nostalgia. This is evident in the appeal of a Golden Age at the outset of his article: I am honoured to advance President Donald Trump’s policy of bettering lives through unleashing a golden age of energy dominance – both at home and around the world. The appeal to the Golden Age somewhat contradicts Whiggism. From a nostalgic perspective, it seems that society has been on a downward trajectory instead of progressing. In other words, regression must be possible. Within an overall Whiggish narrative, one can blame certain actors, such as the Democrats in the US political context, for causing moral and political decline.  A nationalist narrative of a “golden age” and a return to a better past (“making us great again”) is essentially connected to the denial of planetary-scale problems, such as climate change, that would clearly require novel global responses. Climate change from a real-time perspective By merging Whiggism with a block-universe ontology (either static or growing), one ends up with a pseudo-historicism that speaks of “progress” while erasing real time. In a way, such a view “performs change” through a highly selective historical narrative, while denying the ontological preconditions of real change. Real change – emergence, transformation, causation – requires a temporal ontology, where the future is real though not yet fully determined. Thus, there is no mention of global emissions that have continued to rise, their delayed effects, feedback loops, or emergent risks given multiple processes of intertwined changes. Are the basic IPCC models based on real historical time? IPCC models often treat the climate system as a bounded system with internally consistent and deterministic dynamics. The IPCC relies on modelling and uses Bayesian methods to assess uncertainties in climate projections. Bayesian statistics involve updating the probability of a hypothesis as more evidence becomes available, based on prior knowledge (priors) and new data (likelihoods). Such an approach tends to be conservative (based on moving averages, for example) and assumes the quantifiability of uncertainty. It may also convey illusory precision, especially when the underlying models or data are uncertain or incomplete. The IPCC models nonetheless indicate – in contrast to Wright – that the future is real, though the future is approached in a somewhat cautious and deterministic manner. However, many climate scientists go beyond the IPCC consensus by assuming that global heating may reach 2.5 °C or even above 3 °C degree warming by the end of the century.  From a critical scientific realist viewpoint, even such anticipations may be too circumspect. Assuming exponential growth (involving cascading events etc.) and given that recent data shows a rise from 1.0°C to 1.5°C in just 15 years (actual data taken on an annual basis, not moving averages), and using this as a basis for anticipating the future, we seem likely to reach the 2 °C mark in the 2040s and the 3 °C mark in the 2060s.  The plausibility of anticipations depends significantly on how the real openness of the future is treated. Anticipations are reflexive and can shape the future. Real time and historical change involves human freedom and ethics. The evolving universe, where time is real, is stratified, processual, and open-ended. Time involves genuine processes, real possibilities, agency, and emergent structures. Such characteristics indicate that the future is not predetermined but can be shaped by transformative agency.  To sum up, from a real historical time perspective, Wright’s combination of Whiggism, blockism, and nostalgia is a recipe for reactionary politics. Glorifying the present, thinking in a timeless way, and longing for a golden age of the past can play a major role in bringing about a dystopian planetary future.

Where is the "East" for Russia? This is the central question of the "pivot to the East" policy. Throughout Russian history, the debate over East and West has never ceased, embodied most clearly in the opposition between Slavophiles and Westernizers. Their discussion unfolded mainly within the framework of the "East–West" problem. However, it would likely be incorrect to view their debate through the lens of today’s understanding of East and West. The "East", as understood by the Slavophiles, was not Asia in the usual sense of the word—neither geographically nor culturally. The Slavophiles called for a "return to Asia," but by "Asia" they meant Slavic civilization in contrast to Europe, in other words, Russia itself—not the East Asian Confucian civilization led by China. They argued that Russia’s traditions and history were distinct from those of Europe and self-sufficient, and that Russia should follow its own path—one that is Slavic, not Asian. Moreover, the Slavophiles did not consider Russia part of Asian civilization. The views of Slavophiles and Westernizers on whether Russia belongs to Europe are diametrically opposed, but on the question of whether Russia belongs to Asia, their opinions coincide: neither considered Russia to be part of Asian civilization. Thus, the subject of their debate does not lie in choosing between Europe and Asia, but in choosing between Europe and Russia. In the context of their dispute, the "East" refers to the Asian part of Russia and Russia itself. Russian Eurasianism emerged in the 1920s and, according to its ideas, Russia has both European and Asian features but is neither Europe nor Asia. Instead, it represents a “closed and complete geographic, economic, and ethnic whole” [1]. In other words, from the point of view of Eurasianist philosophy, Russia was seen as a unique civilization — a notion that echoes Slavophile thinking. After the collapse of the USSR, neo-Eurasianism appeared in Russia, which includes various strands. Unlike classical Eurasianism, neo-Eurasianism goes beyond theoretical discussion and has a practical orientation. When the former Soviet republics began gaining independence, neo-Eurasianism also started to carry certain political and geopolitical meanings. The idea of Eurasia’s self-sufficiency was inherited from classical Eurasianism. Thus, neither Slavophilism, nor Westernism, nor Eurasianism actually turns to Asia. Westernism is by nature outward-looking and advocates integration with Europe. Slavophilism and Eurasianism are inward-oriented, calling for a return to one's roots. How, then, did the turn to the East happen if none of these major currents focused on Asia? Does this not present a contradiction? In fact, there is no contradiction. The essence of the debate among Russian intellectual traditions concerns the characteristics of Russian civilization and its development path, while the pivot to the East relates primarily to foreign relations and external policy. In the first case, it is about the spiritual East and West — or the civilizational and cultural East and West. In the second, it is about the East and West in terms of international relations, where specific countries and regions matter more than the civilizations they belong to. There is no conflict between these two planes: the first one emphasizes the civilizational position of the country, while the second concerns the direction of its foreign policy. Civilizational position and diplomatic position are not the same. The civilizational position of a country reflects its value system and spiritual orientation. The diplomatic position reflects key aspects of its foreign policy at a given moment. The civilizational aspect influences foreign policy, but it does not determine a permanent shift in foreign policy priorities. A country’s official foreign policy is shaped not only by its civilizational identity, but also by its actual political, economic, and security interests. The last factor usually plays a decisive role in a complex international environment. The civilizational position is also not necessarily closely tied to interstate relations. Although Russia belongs to European civilization, this does not mean that its relations with Western countries will necessarily be better or worse than with non-Western ones. In practice, many of Russia’s friendly relations are with non-Western countries, while it has very few friends among Western states. The historical context of Russia’s pivot to the East. Russia’s modern pivot to the East is not the first in the country’s history. It should be noted that throughout the history of Russian foreign policy, the meaning of the term “East” has changed from one era to another. As a rule, the East was understood to mean Asia — geographically separate from Europe and culturally different from it. However, in different contexts, the meaning of “East” varies significantly. Typically, the East refers to the Asian region surrounding Russia — not only geographically to the east of the country (such as China and East Asia), but also in a broader sense. Culturally, the East was perceived as a non-Christian region: the Ottoman Empire, the Caucasus, the Qing Empire, and the Central Asian khanates — all of these were outside the Christian cultural sphere. The Russian language includes a popular expression: “The East is a delicate matter.” This phrase comes from the main character of the Soviet film White Sun of the Desert, Red Army soldier Fyodor Sukhov. His line became a well-known saying used to describe the East. In this context, “the East” refers to Central Asia, which apparently was part of the “East” in the Russian mindset of the 1920s (i.e., the time in which the film is set). However, Central Asia is not part of the current concept of the “pivot to the East.” It is often said that Russia has turned to the East many times, but there is no consensus on when this first occurred. Even during the imperial period, the East was an important direction in Russian foreign policy — the Ottoman Empire and the Caucasus were an inseparable part of this eastern vector [2]. After the 16th century, Russia continued to focus on the East by developing relations with the Ottoman Empire, the Chinese Qing Empire, the Central Asian khanates, and others. Emperor Peter I not only “opened a window to Europe,” but also paid significant attention to the East. In 1716, he ordered a military expedition to Khiva and Bukhara, although it ended unsuccessfully [3]. From the late 17th century onward, ten Russo-Turkish wars were fought over more than 200 years. And although the Ottoman Empire was considered part of the East, the regions where the wars were fought — the Caucasus, Lower Volga, Crimea, Western Ukraine, Moldova, Bessarabia, Istanbul, and the Balkans — are today typically viewed as part of the West. These warm, fertile regions close to Europe cannot be called the East in the true sense of the word. Indeed, this was a major shift in Russian foreign policy, but it was not a pivot to the East — it was more accurately a pivot from the North to the South. Since the Middle Ages, the Grand Duchy of Moscow had exported furs and timber through the Baltic Sea in the north. However, this alone was not enough, and Russia came to understand that in order to become a powerful state, it needed to look southward and gain access to the Black Sea. The development of this southern foreign policy reached its peak during the reign of Catherine II (1762–1796) and continued up until the start of the Crimean War (1853–1856) [4]. Some researchers believe that Russia’s first true pivot to the East began in the late 19th century and was closely associated with the name of Count Sergei Witte. During the reigns of Emperors Alexander III (1881–1894) and Nicholas II (1894–1917), Witte held several high-ranking positions in government: Minister of Transport, Minister of Finance, Chairman of the Council of Ministers, and Chairman of the Committee of Ministers. Thanks to Witte’s efforts, the pivot to the East was formalized as an economic, trade-investment, and transport-logistics strategy. He supported the idea of building the Trans-Siberian Railway; under him, the construction of the Chinese Eastern Railway — stretching from northeastern China to Vladivostok — was planned and completed; and the Russo-Chinese Bank was created in connection with this project. Although Witte’s plans were not fully realized, he was the first to propose a clear eastern strategy. Some scholars argue that until the late 19th century, Russia did not have a clearly formulated strategy toward Asia. Many significant Russian actions in Central Asia and the Far East were not directed from the top but were undertaken independently on the ground. When these expansionist actions succeeded, the imperial government not only acknowledged them but also accepted their outcomes. For example, under the Treaty of Nerchinsk (1689) between Russia and China, the Amur River basin (Heilongjiang in Chinese) belonged to China. Even before the Crimean War, Russian troops were already present in that territory, taking control of settlements and establishing outposts. Although the imperial authorities understood that this violated the bilateral treaty and encroached on Chinese territory, Emperor Nicholas I (1825–1855) famously declared: “A Russian flag once raised must never be lowered.” [5] There is also an opinion that Russia’s first pivot to the East took place in the early years of the Soviet Union and was reflected in the foreign policy of People’s Commissar for Foreign Affairs Georgy Chicherin. The author is convinced that the first pivot of Russia to the East — in the modern sense of the term — occurred after the end of the Crimean War and continued until the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905). The eastern strategy proposed by Sergei Witte emerged precisely during this period [6]. The main content of this first pivot to the East was territorial expansion and colonization of the East, while economic interests played a secondary role. Central Asia, the Far East, and the Caucasus were the primary directions. As a result, Russia took control of the Caucasus in the west, conquered all of Central Asia in the south, and expanded its influence eastward to the Pacific coast. Russia had already been present in Central Asia in the early 18th century, and by the time of the Crimean War had penetrated deeper into the region — for example, the Vernoye Fortress was built by Russian troops in 1854–1855, which became the foundation for the city of Verny (modern-day Almaty). After the Crimean War, in order to be able to deter a potential war with Britain in Central Asia, a strategy of southward advancement was adopted. This strategy involved the incorporation of parts of Central Asia, the conquest of Turkestan and the Central Asian steppes, and approaching the borders of Afghanistan. The development of this strategy was assigned by the emperor to Colonel N.P. Ignatiev [7]. During Russia’s advance in Central Asia, expansion and colonization became an end in themselves, while the goal of containing Britain faded into the background. From 1858, under the command of General M.G. Cherniaev — whom the press dubbed the "Yermak of the 19th century" — Turkestan was annexed, and the cities of Chimkent, Semipalatinsk, Tashkent, and others were captured. In 1867, the Turkestan Governor-Generalship was established, led by K.P. Kaufman, who had previously served as the Vilna Governor-General. In the following years, the Bukhara Emirate, the Khanates of Khiva and Kokand came under Kaufman’s control. At that point, the Russian conquests and colonization of Central Asia were effectively completed. China became the most important direction of this wave of the "pivot to the East." Several years after the Crimean War, taking advantage of the situation in which Beijing was occupied by British and French troops and internal unrest was growing, Russia forced the Qing government to sign a series of treaties. As a result, China lost over 1.5 million square kilometers of land in the northeast and northwest of the country. The person responsible for this was the Russian Empire’s envoy to China, N.P. Ignatiev. Russia’s advance eastward did not stop there. It crossed the Amur River, moved into northeast China, and attempted to annex all of Manchuria by realizing the idea of “Yellow Russia” [8] — turning this territory into a second Bukhara [9]. This idea ultimately failed, mainly because the great powers entered into disputes and conflicts over dividing spheres of influence in China. In 1896, the Russian Empire and the Qing government signed an alliance treaty (the Aigun Treaty), which included a clause on joint military actions against Japan if it attacked either side or Korea. The treaty also granted Russia the right to build a railway through northeastern Chinese territory — nominally for troop transport in wartime — but in reality it became a tool for implementing the idea of Yellow Russia. In 1897, Germany occupied the port of Qingdao. The Qing government turned to Russia for help. The Russian Empire refused, citing its obligation to help only in case of a Japanese attack, and instead used the opportunity to force the Qing to cede Port Arthur (Lüshun). In 1900, Russia joined the Eight-Nation Alliance and deployed troops in China, which was essentially an act of war. Russia occupied all of northeastern China, and in the 64 villages of Jiangdong, it carried out “numerous cleansings” of the Chinese population. The Russo-Japanese War broke out in 1904–1905 due to the rivalry between Russia and Japan over Manchuria and Korea. The main theater of military operations was northeastern China. After the war, Russia supported the independence of Outer Mongolia, as a result of which China lost control over this territory. It is evident that Russia and China view the history of their bilateral relations — and its key figures — in very different, even opposite ways. In the historical consciousness of the Chinese people, Russo-Chinese relations of that period are seen as part of the "century of humiliation," which brought suffering to China and left deep wounds in the hearts of the Chinese people. The complex history of Russian-Chinese relations includes both dark pages and times of friendship and mutual assistance — particularly the Soviet Union’s military support during the war against Japan (1938–1945) and the large-scale assistance provided after the founding of the PRC (1949). These pages, too, have a lasting place in China’s historical memory. In the nearly half-century that passed since Russia’s first pivot to the East, its expansion in this direction reached its peak, resulting in vast territorial gains and reaching the natural limits of expansion in the Far East and Central Asia. This process culminated in the formation of the eastern borders of the Russian Empire, which remained in place until the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. Modern Pivot to the East Russia's turn to the East now has different content and character. It is often linked to the Ukrainian crisis that broke out in 2014 and the conflict with the West. There is some truth in this, but not completely. The shift was driven by a set of factors: first, the shift of the global political and economic center to the Asia-Pacific region; second, Russia’s need to develop Siberia and the Far East; third, the influence of the international situation. In the early 21st century, the Asia-Pacific became home to many economic powers with growing political and economic influence. This attracted Russia’s attention and pushed it to develop closer ties with Asia-Pacific countries, strengthening its position in the region. This reason has been stated repeatedly by Russian President Vladimir Putin. The development of Siberia and the Far East is a key part of the “turn to the East” policy. All measures in this direction aim at this goal. In 2012, when Putin presented the strategy of turning East, he outlined the goal of developing Siberia and the Far East. These regions are rich in natural resources, which have been sought after since the days of tsarist Russia. This is important not only for the regions themselves but for the entire Russian state. Russia sees the potential of these regions and believes they will be a source of wealth and drive the country's prosperity in the 21st century. In this regard, Vladimir Putin set a priority for the entire 21st century — the development of the Far East. At the IX Eastern Economic Forum in September 2024, he again stressed the importance of developing Siberia and the Far East, saying the future of Russia largely depends on it. There is a gap in development between the western and eastern parts of Russia. A visible socio-economic divide causes problems for both the economy and national security. Siberia and the Far East are vast and rich in resources, but sparsely populated and economically underdeveloped, with outdated infrastructure and population decline. These regions border China, Japan, and South Korea — economically stronger, densely populated countries with high demand for resources. Russia believes that if it does not develop Siberia and the Far East, the economic and social gap between its western and eastern parts will grow, and the population in the eastern regions will shrink. These trends could later deepen regional imbalances and reduce the appeal of these territories for residents, weakening the influence of the political center and risking a loss of control. The Ukrainian crisis played a significant role in Russia’s geopolitical and territorial reorientation. All past turns to the East happened after setbacks in the European direction. The turn in the second half of the 19th century came after the defeat in the Crimean War, and early Soviet eastern development also began due to difficult relations with the West. In such cases, as European powers moved East, Russia, losing chances in the West, turned to the weaker East, which it could dominate more easily. This helped it look away from Europe’s pressure and gain in the East to offset losses in the West. The Ukrainian crisis became the most serious conflict between Russia and the West since the Cold War’s end. It changed their relations fundamentally. The West imposed strict and broad sanctions on Russia after the start of the conflict, cutting almost all political, economic, financial, technological, transport, cultural, sports, educational, and humanitarian ties — something that never happened before in Russia-Europe relations. Even during the Crimean War, Europe did not fully cut economic ties with Russia; trade continued through neutral countries. Now, a wall separates Russia from the West, dividing Europe in two, with almost all European countries on the other side. The shadow of war now looms between Russia and the West. Russia began focusing on the East to break the Western political blockade and replace lost markets and resources in Europe. But this only sped up the turn to the East; it did not cause it, since the policy began before the Ukrainian crisis. The turn to the East has been developed both as a scientific concept and a political strategy in academic circles for a long time. One viewpoint holds that the initiator of this idea was Yevgeny Primakov: in 1996, while serving as Minister of Foreign Affairs, he proposed a corresponding concept. In 2012, the Valdai International Discussion Club published an analytical report titled “Toward the Great Ocean, or the New Globalization of Russia,” which promoted the idea of Russia’s development in the direction of the Asia-Pacific region. The authors of this study — Professor S.A. Karaganov and T.V. Bordachev — are among the most active supporters of the turn to the East and later published a series of reports and articles on the topic to shape public opinion accordingly. Professor A.V. Lukin, a leading Russian expert on China, also published a work on the subject of the turn to the East back in 2014. Many other Russian researchers have written a large number of articles addressing this issue. The state policy of the “turn to the East” was proposed later than the concept itself but also before the start of the Ukrainian crisis. The idea of turning East emerged during the presidency of Dmitry Medvedev (2008–2012). In his 2010 address to the Federal Assembly, he stated that Russia faced the task of regional integration into the Asia-Pacific economic space and that expanding ties with countries in the region was taking on strategic importance. After Vladimir Putin returned to the presidency in 2012, the “turn to the East” strategy took its final form. As already noted, this direction began to be developed in 2012, and in his 2013 address to the Federal Assembly, President Putin used the phrase “Russia’s pivot to the Pacific Ocean,” which essentially means the same as the turn to the East. At different times, the term “turn to the East” has had different meanings in terms of goals and direction. Even within the same period, its content changed and was supplemented depending on circumstances. In Russian foreign policy, the turn to the East was initially seen as a supplement to the Eurocentric direction. Its main function was to reduce dependence on Europe without changing the structure of Eurocentric foreign policy. Until Medvedev’s presidency, this was the ideological content of the turn. Later, the eastern vector in Russia’s foreign policy became as important as the European one, aiming for symmetrical development. After 2012, the balance between the eastern and western directions became the central idea of the turn to the East. With the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict in 2022, the ideological meaning of the turn was adjusted again. As the road to the West was blocked, the turn to the East (including to the Global South) became the only option. In this context, it started to represent the center of gravity and support for Russia’s foreign policy. The turn to the East no longer just balanced the European and Asian directions — it became the main direction of foreign policy, with Europe becoming secondary, at least for the time being. However, in Russian academic circles, there are also more absolutist views on this matter. Some believe that with the beginning of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, the 300-year journey of Russia through Europe, which began with Peter the Great, came to an end. The “window to Europe” closed for a long time, and Russia “returned home” — to the East. This conclusion was drawn a century and a half ago by the great writer Fyodor Dostoevsky: back in the 19th century, he argued that Russia had completed its historical path in Europe and should go its own way. But let us remember that in the early post-Soviet years, Westernism was extremely popular, and Russia rushed into the embrace of the West without hesitation (here the author understands “Westernism” more as admiration for the West). After the September 11 attacks, Russian-American relations quickly warmed, and optimistic forecasts were voiced: Russian society had chosen its path — the European one, and the easing of relations with the U.S. drove “the last nail into the coffin” of Eurasian values. Clearly, that scenario did not work out. Time will tell whether predictions about a final separation between Russia and Europe will come true. However, considering historical events, it seems unlikely. In 1697–1698, Peter the Great organized the Grand Embassy — a diplomatic mission to Europe, and after Russia’s victory in the Great Northern War (1700–1721), the country became a great power and from then on actively participated in European affairs, sometimes as a partner of European states, sometimes as an adversary, but always inseparable from Europe. The current confrontation with Europe is a result of the Russia–Ukraine conflict and sanctions. It is not expected to become the norm in Russia’s foreign policy, as it does not align with the patterns of international politics and economics. The present situation is caused by a political conflict, not by a loss of Europe’s importance to Russia. Europe still matters to Moscow in political, economic, and security terms. Russia and Europe remain connected by geography, culture, and religion. President Vladimir Putin has stated that Russia is still part of European civilization, and Europe is an important player — cutting ties with it would be politically unwise, economically undesirable, and impossible from a security standpoint. Russia–Europe relations may go through different phases, but Russia is a European country and cannot ignore Europe or abandon the development of its European direction. If given the opportunity, it will return to it. Russian scholars argue that both Europe and Asia are key directions in the country’s foreign policy. Russia has always approached both regions based on the need for a multi-vector foreign policy and diversified economic cooperation with its external partners. It is possible to predict that the end of the Russia–Ukraine conflict and the lifting of Western sanctions will be followed by a gradual normalization of relations. After that, business ties between Russia and Europe will slowly begin to recover, although this process may take a long time, and relations may not return to their pre-conflict state. As history shows, when Russia goes too far in one direction — West or East — it eventually turns the other way. The success or failure of the turn to the East can only be judged by the goals it sets for itself. It is no longer just a foreign policy and economic concept, but a comprehensive national development strategy. Therefore, its success should be assessed accordingly. Three key criteria can be identified: socio-economic development of the Far East and Siberia; the degree of Russia's integration into the Asia-Pacific economy; and the strengthening of Russia's discursive power in the Asia-Pacific. Progress in all three areas will indicate success, while setbacks will suggest stagnation or regression. These indicators must be evaluated based on long-term data — short-term results show only temporary trends and are not sufficient to judge the overall effectiveness of the strategy. The turn to the East is a long process, inevitably accompanied by difficulties and setbacks. Russian history shows that each shift in foreign policy direction has taken decades and gone through many ups and downs, sometimes even failures. Yet Russia has always stood up again, showing resilience in pursuing long-term goals. In today’s world, development happens at a faster pace. The completion of the turn to the East cannot wait another hundred years, but structural transformation will still take at least ten years, and success is not guaranteed. Much has been achieved over the past decade, but many challenges remain — most of them within Russia itself. Understanding the East holds intangible but important meaning. In the minds of Russians, especially Westernizers, the East and West are opposites. The West symbolizes civilization and progress, while Asia is seen as barbaric and backward. The word “Aziatchina” in Russian carries negative connotations linked to cultural backwardness, roughness, and lack of civility. Europe, by contrast, is viewed positively — for example, by Vissarion Belinsky: “Everything great, noble, human, and spiritual has risen, grown, flourished, and borne luxurious fruit on European soil.” This perception still exists to some extent and traditionally forms a cultural bias in Russia, especially against modern Asia. Because of this cultural barrier, Russia cannot fully become either a European or an Asian country. To truly become part of Asia, Russia must entirely and objectively rethink its understanding of it. The efficiency of Russian government agencies is extremely important, and that of local governments is even more so. Government institutions at all levels are key to implementing the turn to the East strategy. The enthusiasm and effectiveness of local officials play a large role in determining the success of the strategy. Bureaucratic red tape and apathy can ruin even the most promising programs, while weak governance and corruption can destroy any successful policy. Finding a rational and effective model for the development of Siberia and the Far East is a difficult task. The situation in these regions is unique. Chinese, Japanese, and Korean models do not suit Russian conditions. The global economy is currently undergoing changes, and Russia needs to adapt, take advantage of its strengths, and form its own development path. The internal turn to the East requires innovative development. The task is not simple — to ensure the prosperity of Siberia and the Far East while considering their rich natural resources, underdeveloped infrastructure, labor shortages, limited markets, and small-scale processing and scientific industries. Significant efforts are needed for Vladivostok — the capital of the Far Eastern Federal District — to stand out among Tokyo, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and other regional and global financial, tech, innovation, and logistics hubs. Excluding the energy and defense sectors, Russia will find it difficult to carve out a niche in the Asia-Pacific market, which already has a stable structure, well-defined labor division, and strong competition. Russia will need to demonstrate extraordinary competitiveness to enter the Asia-Pacific market successfully. Attracting foreign investment is an important tool for the development of Siberia and the Far East. However, its application requires greater openness to the outside world, a favorable investment climate, reliable legal guarantees, appropriate political measures, rational tax policy, efficient customs procedures, pragmatic labor policy, and a mentality that views foreign capital positively. State policy must be consistent and coordinated, and there must also be an increase in the awareness of the business community [population — translator's note] about market-based rules of economic cooperation. The Ukrainian crisis contributed to the turn to the East, but at the same time brought unforeseen challenges to its implementation. As a result of tough political and economic Western sanctions, foreign investment opportunities have been greatly reduced. Not only were Western investment channels blocked, but investment from other countries has also become severely limited. Scientific and technological cooperation with many countries cannot proceed due to the threat of Western sanctions. Bilateral trade also faces restrictions, and there are serious difficulties and problems with financial settlements. Changes in the global geopolitical and geoeconomic landscape after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict have affected the original concept of the “turn to the East.” First, the Ukrainian crisis narrowed the geographical scope of this process. Major Asian economic and technological powers — Japan and South Korea — played an important role in the turn to the East, but they imposed sanctions on Russia following the United States, and trade cooperation was suspended. As a result, Japan and South Korea are no longer considered part of the turn to the East, which has created challenges for the strategy. Second, the scale of some important projects associated with the turn had to be reduced. For example, the development of the Northern Sea Route. The Northern Sea Route is a key project in the context of the turn to the East: it is a transport artery connecting East Asia and Europe. It is much shorter than the sea route from East Asia to Europe via the Indian Ocean (Suez Canal), which allows for significantly lower shipping costs and shorter delivery times. With the acceleration of global warming, the navigational period — when the Arctic Ocean can be traveled without an icebreaker — is expected to increase. Completion of transport infrastructure along the Northern Sea Route would change the system of international shipping, bringing economic benefits to Russia and raising its geopolitical and geoeconomic significance. However, after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, European sanctions against Russia blocked transport routes to Europe, putting the functioning of this corridor in question. Now, transportation operates only to Murmansk, which supports Russian-Chinese trade but causes difficulties on the European side. In addition, sanctions impact the construction of infrastructure and icebreaking ships. Despite this, in the long term, the value of the Northern Sea Route as a new Eurasian shipping corridor remains, though the restoration of this function should be expected only after an improvement in Russia–Europe relations. China in the context of the turn to the East Russia’s turn to the East does not mean a turn solely to China — the strategy also includes other Asia-Pacific countries such as India, Vietnam, and Southeast Asian states. Japan and South Korea are temporarily not considered due to sanctions. Russia aims to diversify its relationships in Asia while carefully balancing them with China, given its significant role in the current world order. The turn to the East does not carry emotional weight; it is a state strategy based on national interests and needs, not driven by affection for Asia or China. Some opinions — whether intentional or not — equate the turn to friendship with China, which is an emotional interpretation, though it is true that friendly ties help strengthen cooperation between Russia and China. Nevertheless, China is undoubtedly the main direction of Russia’s turn to the East. China is the world’s second-largest economy, second only to the U.S. in nominal GDP. It is a strategic partner of Russia and the world’s largest exporter. Border regions between the two countries require strengthened economic cooperation. Because of all these factors, China holds a central position in Russia’s eastern strategy. China has vast potential for economic collaboration. Trade relations between Russia and China are actively developing — China has been Russia’s top trading partner for 14 years, though there is still room to grow in bilateral trade. China is one of the largest markets for Russian energy exports: in 2023, Russia exported 107 million tons of oil and 8 million tons of LNG to China. By 2025, gas exports to China are expected to reach 38 billion cubic meters. China is also a key player in Arctic development and the Northern Sea Route. It is the second-largest shareholder in the Yamal LNG project, which involves dozens of Chinese companies. The Northern Sea Route requires significant infrastructure development and a fleet of icebreakers, as well as companies responsible for cargo management. China is involved in all these areas and has the capacity to play a major role in infrastructure development across Siberia and the Russian Far East. It is a global leader in fields such as artificial intelligence, ICT, digital economy, and e-commerce. Expanding bilateral cooperation in these areas is essential for regional development. China is also a major market for Russian agricultural, forestry, and seafood products. Due to geographic proximity, economic interaction between Northeast China and the Russian Far East has become very close, directly impacting the lives of local border populations. Despite the fact that the turn to the East is now an established state strategy, Russian public opinion on it is mixed. The once-popular “China threat,” particularly the fear of demographic expansion, has faded. While some fears remain, they are no longer dominant. These fears stem from various sources. One is deep-seated distrust of China and uncertainty about its intentions — concerns over whether China will be a friend or foe in the future, reflecting a lack of confidence in the long-term trajectory of relations. Another factor is the entrenched ideology of Westernism, which clashes with the turn to the East. Advocates of this worldview believe Russia’s future lies in the West and argue that China cannot provide technologies, equipment, or capital on par with the West. They see the pivot as a last resort after being shut out by the West, with little to gain from it. The greatest concern influencing public opinion is the fear of overdependence on China. Some believe it could result in Russia becoming China’s “junior partner,” a “raw material appendage,” or a vassal of China’s economy; that rising reliance on China’s energy market threatens Russia’s energy security; and that Russia may lose neutrality and freedom of maneuver in a possible conflict between China and Asian nations. At the Eastern Economic Forum in September 2024, a moderator even asked a Chinese delegate what was being done to ensure that Chinese businesses remained in China and did not enter Russia. The various sources of these viewpoints share a common background: the asymmetry in development between Russia and China. A key feature of modern Russian-Chinese relations — which have taken shape since the collapse of the USSR in 1991 — is that China’s growth has outpaced Russia’s. For the first time in over 300 years of bilateral ties (dating to the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689), China has surpassed Russia in national power. In 2023, Russia’s GNP was $2.02 trillion, while China’s reached $17.79 trillion — more than eight times higher. Russia’s per capita GDP is only slightly above China’s: $13,800 vs. $12,600. China’s armed forces outnumber Russia’s, are better equipped with modern weapons, and benefit from higher military spending. In 2022, China’s military budget was about $292.2 billion, compared to Russia’s $86 billion. While China’s budget is much smaller than the U.S.’s $877 billion, it still exceeds Russia’s by more than three times. Since the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, Russia’s military budget has increased annually, mainly to meet the needs of the special military operation. However, when measured in U.S. dollars, this increase has been less noticeable due to the sharp devaluation of the ruble. Adequate military spending is crucial to building a modern and capable army. Technological rivalry lies at the core of modern international competition. China is confidently leading the Fourth Industrial Revolution, which is radically transforming the global landscape. The country produces an enormous variety of goods and is often referred to as the “world’s factory.” It possesses strong investment potential and engages in active investment worldwide, especially in countries participating in the Belt and Road Initiative. Despite encountering challenges and difficulties, China’s steady development trend remains intact. Its capacities in investment, technology, and equipment continue to grow. Due to the vast size of the Chinese economy, the scale of Russian-Chinese economic cooperation is also significant, and its share in Russia’s foreign trade is inevitably increasing. This is a natural and non-negative process. It indicates that economic cooperation is becoming increasingly beneficial and important for both countries. Neither the Russian nor Chinese governments express concern about the scale of economic interaction. On the contrary, both sides believe the full potential of their economic cooperation has yet to be realized. China may not provide Russia with everything that Europe can, but likewise, Europe cannot offer what China can. Both Europe and China have their own economic strengths and weaknesses. Trends show that Chinese technologies can replace European products such as automobiles, high-speed rail, communication systems, alternative energy sources, computers, and mobile phones. Europe, in turn, can only substitute for certain Chinese goods. To gain economic benefits, it's not only investments, equipment, and technologies that matter, but also the ability to purchase essential goods and services from abroad, as well as to earn foreign currency through exports and service trade. In 2023, Russia earned $90.5 billion from energy exports to China, generating considerable economic benefits. Economic cooperation is a relationship of mutual dependence. In such relationships, countries both give and take. The more interdependent they are, the more their interests align and the greater the benefits. The level of interdependence varies between bilateral partnerships. While countries strive to diversify their foreign relations, economic interdependence does not necessarily lead to stagnation. A major trend in the global economy today is increasing interdependence between nations. Globalization, regional integration, and cooperation mechanisms are accelerating this process. Typically, countries seek to expand economic cooperation and deepen ties based on equality for mutual gain. There is indeed a power gap between large and small economies. The same trade volume can have very different weight in economies of different sizes. But this doesn’t imply inequality, nor does it mean that one country becomes the vassal of another. If economic relations between unequal economies were inherently unfair, true economic cooperation would not exist. China is the largest or main trading partner of more than 150 countries, all of which — except the U.S. — have smaller economies. If none of those countries became China’s vassal, then how could Russia, as the world’s fourth or fifth largest economy, become one? The issue of overdependence is complex and relative. On one hand, it can be positive — strengthening ties and increasing benefits. On the other, it can cause negative outcomes like loss of economic sovereignty or national security concerns. But what counts as “overdependence” is hard to define because each country’s relationships are unique. In some cases, economic independence is essential for security; in others, full autonomy isn’t pursued. For example, in the EU, the goal of multilateral relations is to create an economic community where overdependence isn’t considered a problem. Moreover, the conditions under which overdependence emerges can vary and are not always within a country’s control. Overdependence has negative consequences only when relations become antagonistic and countries “weaponize” their economic ties, turning them into tools of sanctions and conflict. The clearest example is the Western sanctions imposed on Russia after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict. However, this is not a typical situation in international economic relations. China holds the most prominent position in Russia’s foreign trade structure. In 2023, Russia’s total foreign trade turnover amounted to $710.2 billion, with trade with China accounting for $240 billion — more than 30%. The most important sphere of economic cooperation between the two countries is energy. In 2023, Russia exported 234 million tons of oil, of which 107 million tons (45%) went to China. The same year, Russia’s natural gas exports totaled 139 billion cubic meters, with 34 billion cubic meters (about 25%) going to China. However, these numbers are not stable. They reflect a sharp decline in Russia–Europe trade since the onset of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, a significant drop in Russia’s overall foreign trade, and a rapid rise in trade with China. Influential factors include dramatic changes in the structure of Russia’s energy exports, a reduction in natural gas exports in particular, structural shifts in trade flows, the relegation of the European vector to a secondary role, and the potential suspension of Russian gas supplies to Europe. Still, China remains far from the role once held by Europe in Russia’s foreign trade and energy exports. As great powers, both Russia and China strive to avoid excessive dependence on external players, especially in strategically important areas. This concern is naturally embedded in their national security thinking. In energy, Russia seeks to diversify its export markets, while China aims to diversify its import sources. At the same time, maintaining friendly and stable long-term relations is a necessary condition for developing mutual dependence in a positive and productive direction. Yet whether out of rational caution or political reasoning, the notion of “overdependence” does not accurately describe current Russia–China relations. Modern bilateral economic cooperation is based on objective conditions and internal needs, and most importantly, it brings significant benefits to both countries. After losing its European partners, Russia must urgently complete its pivot to the East and expand its presence in Asian markets — especially in the energy sector, which is of strategic importance. Russia’s current policy agenda prioritizes active development of cooperation with Asian countries, especially energy partners, rather than reducing its scale. Unlike ordinary goods, energy impacts national economic growth and population well-being. Supply and demand in energy create a two-way dependence, not a one-sided one. In this context, fears of overdependence are largely misplaced. Typically, exporters are more proactive than importers. Historically, it is the exporting country that has been more capable of using energy as a political instrument. China has no intention of being a “big brother” to any country, nor of having “little brothers.” This concept is inconsistent with both its political philosophy and policy. The idea of “older and younger brothers” does not align with modern Chinese political thinking. Russia is a proud nation that would never accept the status of a junior partner. China’s relations with its neighbors, regardless of the size of their economies, are based on equality and mutual respect. China never treats them condescendingly or claims seniority. So how could Russia — a global power — become China’s “little brother”? First published in the journal “Russia and the Asia-Pacific.”DOI: 10.24412/1026-8804-2025-2-162-185Trubetskoy, N.S. History. Culture. Language. Moscow: Progress, 1995. p. 258.History of Russian Foreign Policy. 18th Century. Moscow: International Relations, 1998. p. 48.History of the Civilizations of Central Asia. Beijing: China Foreign Translation and Publishing Corporation, 2006. Vol. 5, p. 270.Figes, O. The Crimean War: Forgotten Imperial Conflict. (Translated by Lü Pin and Zhu Zhu). Nanjing: Nanjing University Press, 2022. p. 26.Ayrapetov, O.R. 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Abstract This paper analyzes, from Immanuel Wallerstein's Analysis of the World – System, an introduction, the emergence of the modern world – system, the permanence of the colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system from a decolonial approach. It examines how the center – periphery structure has determined the economic, political and epistemic dynamics at the global level. Through this approach we study how coloniality has influenced the construction of knowledge. It also analyzes the impact of this structure on the recognition of States and the negotiation of international treaties, showing how Western power has conditioned the legitimacy and autonomy of peripheral nations. It also addresses the persistence of the center-periphery logic in local relations, as well as in gender and racial inequality, highlighting the role of anti-systemic movements in the struggle against these structures. It concludes that, although colonial dynamics continue to operate through debt, extractivism and the imposition of political models, decolonial perspectives offer tools to make visible and resist them. Introduction This paper will analyze the dynamics of the current international system based on the work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System” by Immanuel Wallerstein. In it, Wallerstein (2005) argues that the modern capitalist world-system has structured the global order since the 16th century, consolidating a hierarchical division between the center and the periphery. This division has not only shaped economic and political dynamics but has also established patterns of domination and dependency that persist to this day. The colonial expansion of European powers not only guaranteed access to resources and markets but also legitimized a system of exploitation based on racism and the hierarchization of colonized peoples. The decolonial perspective of Walter Mignolo (2013) will be adopted, which posits that this is a political and epistemic project aimed at dismantling the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity. From this framework, the article will analyze how colonial logic continues to operate in the capitalist world-system through the economic and political subordination of the peripheries. It will also examine the impact of the colonial worldview on knowledge production during the 18th and 19th centuries, as well as the reproduction of the center–periphery dynamic in the recognition of states during the 20th century and in the negotiation of international treaties during the 21st century. Likewise, it will address how this dynamic manifests not only internationally but also within local structures, perpetuating inequalities expressed in labor, gender, and racial relations today. This work seeks to provide a critical perspective on the persistence of colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system, emphasizing the need to rethink power structures from a decolonial perspective that makes visible and vindicates the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced. Development Colonial Logic in the Capitalist World-System In his work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System”, Wallerstein seeks to understand the structure and dynamics of the world-system, taking the 16th century as the starting point —a period when the conquests of the territories we now know as the Americas took place. The colonial period clearly illustrates the core–periphery dynamic (Wallerstein, 2005), as the Spanish, British, and Portuguese empires engaged in the extraction of resources from their colonies, while colonized peoples endured oppression and racism to which they would be condemned for centuries. This oppression brought significant benefits to the modern world-system, as it enabled massive capital accumulation — but exclusively in the core. This was because the colonial process built peripheral economies around the needs of the core, forcing them into subordination to the interests of the global market, generating dependency and underdevelopment. Quijano and Wallerstein (1992) argue that “[…] ethnicity was the inevitable cultural consequence of coloniality. It delineated the social boundaries corresponding to the division of labor” (p. 585). Due to the colonial period, the modern capitalist world-system laid its foundations and strengthened its market-based economic model through racism and hierarchization — circumstances that have legitimized the exploitation and domination of non-European peoples throughout history. Control over the resources of peripheral states by core states has endured to this day, along with the imposition of Western production and consumption models that perpetuate inequality. The colonial period’s greatest legacy remains systemic violence and subalternity. On this basis, it is important to analyze this work from a decolonial perspective. For Walter Mignolo (2013), “decoloniality is not a concept, but a practice and a political, epistemic, and ethical project aimed at disengaging from the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity” (p. 21). This perspective also draws on the notion of epistemic subalternity, which refers to the experiences and knowledge of colonized and subaltern peoples that are rendered invisible, devalued, or reduced to particular cases — without being considered an integral part of the world-system (Mora, 2008). Coloniality in the Construction of Knowledge At the end of the 18th century, the modern university emerged, dividing its studies into two faculties: sciences and humanities. In the 19th century, another division took place within the humanities, opening the space for the study of social sciences, which would later also be split — on one side, those leaning toward scientism, and on the other, toward the humanistic approach. This led to the creation of new disciplines: economics, political science, and sociology (Wallerstein, 2005). These new sciences built their worldview and knowledge construction from a Eurocentric and colonialist perspective, thus assigning labels to peoples different from their own. These new sciences categorized the study of the world’s peoples into three groups. First, civilized peoples — Western nations, considered as such because they believed their social and political organization systems were the most advanced. Second, the high civilizations — India, China, Persia, and the Arab world — classified in this way because they possessed writing, religion, language, and customs. They were regarded as civilized peoples but not modern, under the previously mentioned concept. This category gave rise to orientalist scholars, with a Eurocentric and exoticizing view. Finally, the so-called primitive peoples — those who, from the colonial perspective, lacked writing, religion, language, and customs. This perception of the “uncivilized other” was used to justify colonial processes in the periphery, which even today enable the reproduction of exploitative and racist practices. Segregation in the construction of knowledge, imbued with colonial and Eurocentric thought, is based on criticizing the behavior of these peoples and on what should be changed about them (Zapata, 2008). The Eurocentric conception asserts categorically that the modus vivendi of these peoples is not appropriate according to Western standards. Although this way of thinking has evolved over time, its essence remains the same and has led Western countries to grant themselves the power to change the way of life of these peoples through invasions, neocolonial processes, and violent interventions via military force or economic interference. The Center and the Periphery in the Recognition of States As previously mentioned, Europe established a correspondence between modernity and the West; this includes the institution of the nation-state as its derived product (Zapata, 2008). From the Eurocentric perspective, for civilizations to be considered nation-states, they must possess four characteristics: territory, population, government, and sovereignty. In Public International Law, sovereign states are the main subjects of international relations, and for a state to be recognized as such, it must be acknowledged by the majority of states that are part of the international system. The center–periphery concept operates both economically and politically, which can be observed when a new state seeks recognition from members of the international system. The recognition granted by a state from the center carries more weight than that from the periphery, since states in the center, with greater political and economic capacity, influence the decisions of their allies — both within the center and the periphery. This need for state recognition has been extremely beneficial for the modern capitalist world-system, as political and economic interdependence, along with the perpetuation of power in the countries of the center — particularly those belonging to the West — ensures that they act, whether in matters of state recognition, political agendas, or economic issues, entirely to their own advantage, disregarding the interests of “the other.” From a decolonial perspective, state recognition is a Western construct designed to maintain control over who meets the imposed criteria to belong to the Eurocentric international system. These criteria clearly do not align with the social organization of all non-Western civilizations but were conceived in such a way as to subordinate them to the needs of the world-system, which inevitably serves the interests of Western core states. This can be exemplified by the case of Taiwan. In 1971, the Kuomintang lost recognition from the government of mainland China, and starting in 1985, Taiwan’s government sought to strengthen diplomatic relations with states that already recognized it and to develop relations with those that did not, with the aim of obtaining their approval (Connelly, 2014). Despite the passage of time, recognition of Taiwan as a state by core countries seems inconvenient for them, likely due to the ongoing political dispute between Taiwan and China. As a result, only 14 peripheral states recognize it as such. Despite this, the Northeast Asian country maintains unofficial relations with 47 states and the European Union, for purely economic reasons. The Modern Capitalist World-System in International Treaties It is worth mentioning that the idea of the center–periphery permeates the negotiation of international agreements. As mentioned earlier, the so-called “primitive peoples” were civilizations that, from the Eurocentric perspective of knowledge, lacked writing, religion, languages, or customs. This idea persisted into the 20th century, as reflected in the Statute of the International Court of Justice, which in Chapter II, Article 38, states that “the Court, whose function is to decide in accordance with international law such disputes as are submitted to it, shall apply: […] the general principles of law recognized by civilized nations” (UN, 1945). The Eurocentric conception of a civilized nation in the postwar period was based on the type of government existing in each state. Thus, countries without a democratic political system were not considered civilized nations. This conception forced nations not to determine their own system of government, but rather to adhere to the one imposed by the Western international system in order to be accepted, disregarding their customs and traditions. A more current example of the imposition of Eurocentric ideas on systems of government is the signing of the Free Trade Agreement between the European Union and Mexico in 2000. Ratification of the trade agreement was conditioned on what they called the “democratic clause.” The agreement was not ratified by the Italian government until July 3 of that year, when the presidential elections resulted in the victory of Vicente Fox (Villegas, 2001). On the same day, the European Commission’s spokesperson, Gunnar Wiegand, said in his press release: “A historic vote has taken place in Mexico. The Commission congratulates the Mexican people for exercising their democratic rights in such a mature and exemplary manner” (Caracol Radio, 2000). The spokesperson’s mention of the Mexican people’s maturity refers to the notion that, in the past, the exercise of democracy had not possessed this quality — an observation made from a paternalistic and Eurocentric perspective. Had the election results been different, Mexico could have faced the possibility of the European Union “imposing sanctions as a reaction to the verification of interruptions in democratic processes, which, in addition to affecting development, constitute a threat to international peace and security” (Cordero Galdós, 2002, p. 128). The criticism of the imposition of the “democratic clause” centers on the recurring practice of requiring peripheral states to adapt to the political ideologies and economic needs of the core. The Reproduction of the Center–Periphery Dynamic at the Local Level As mentioned in the development of this work, the effects of colonialism persist across all systems and subsystems through the coloniality of power, knowledge, and being, the latter of which will be addressed later. This is manifested in global inequalities, the exploitation of natural resources in peripheral countries, and the persistence of racist and Eurocentric power structures. From Wallerstein’s perspective, the world-system is a historical structure which, although in constant transformation, reproduces power relations and inequalities over time through the domination of the core and the exploitation of the peripheries (Wallerstein, 2005). Thus, the world-system has evolved in several ways; one of these is the introduction of the term semi-periphery into the analysis. During the colonial period, there were only core and peripheral nations. Over the centuries, however, semi-peripheral states have emerged — nations that not only extract raw materials or engage in manufacturing but also have the capacity to produce cutting-edge technology (Wallerstein, 2005). This positions them in a more privileged place than peripheral countries in the international system. Yet, despite appearing to have overcome the systemic oppression that once kept them in the periphery, the colonial mindset within their institutions perpetuates their subordination to the core. Good examples of semi-peripheral states in Latin America are Mexico and Brazil. Both countries were victims of the exploitation and systemic violence of colonialism. This shaped the development of their societies and economies for centuries. Even after achieving independence and building productive and economic systems that placed them in the semi-periphery, their economic progress was built on a legacy of oppression and racism that continues to reproduce the abuses described. In this way, the concept of core and periphery permeates social and family subsystems. This can be observed in labor relations, where capitalists depend on the core–periphery or superior–subordinate relationship to sustain the production model. It is also evident in social relations, which Wallerstein refers to as anti-systemic movements. Society perpetuates the core–periphery principle by placing women and racialized communities in the periphery, while men — especially white men with power — occupy the core. Anti-systemic movements paved the way for the struggle against these inequalities, giving rise, for example, to feminist and Indigenous movements. These have led to the development of theoretical perspectives such as decolonial feminism, which adds analytical variables to the decolonial perspective. According to Yuderkys Espinosa, it emerges from “[…] a subaltern, non-hegemonic voice […] anti-colonial, anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist. […] Its aim is to question and oppose an imperial and racist rationale” (Barroso, 2014, p. 2). Conclusions The modern capitalist world-system has managed to sustain and expand itself thanks to colonial structures that, far from disappearing with decolonization processes, have mutated and perpetuated dynamics of domination and dependence. As discussed, the core–periphery logic has been key to the organization of the international system, not only in economic terms but also in the construction of knowledge, the legitimization of states, the negotiation of international agreements, and the imposition of political and social models from Western hegemony. The colonial legacy remains in the structural subordination of peripheral economies to the interests of the core, the imposition of international norms that favor core countries, and the persistence of racialized and gender-based inequalities within peripheral states themselves. This scheme has not only ensured capital accumulation in the core but has also limited the self-determination of historically colonized peoples, while normalizing their exclusion from political, economic, and epistemic spheres. At the international level, neocolonialism operates through mechanisms such as external debt, unequal trade agreements, and political interference in the internal affairs of peripheral states. In addition, extractivism and territorial dispossession continue to reproduce colonial logics, affecting both peripheral countries and Indigenous communities as well as other historically marginalized groups. In this sense, the modern capitalist world-system not only perpetuates economic exploitation but also reinforces power structures based on racism, sexism, and subalternity. However, as decolonial perspectives point out, the coloniality of power is not an immutable phenomenon. This approach questions the structures of power and knowledge inherited from colonization, seeking to deconstruct Eurocentric discourses and make visible the voices and experiences of the subaltern. Anti-systemic movements have sought to challenge these structures, reclaiming the agency of subaltern peoples and promoting the construction of alternatives that confront the colonial matrix of power. Particularly, decolonial feminism has emerged as a key critique of the intersection between patriarchy and coloniality, showing how women — especially racialized women — have been relegated to the periphery of the system. Thus, analyzing the world-system from a decolonial perspective allows us not only to understand the continuity of structures of domination but also to recognize the spaces of resistance and contestation that emerge within it. In conclusion, the decolonial perspective enables us to rethink the modern world-system from a critical standpoint, recognizing structural inequalities and the need to transform the power dynamics that perpetuate the domination of the core over the periphery. Decolonialism makes it possible to redefine notions of progress, development, and modernity from a perspective free from colonial stereotypes and hierarchies, recognizing the diversity of knowledge and worldviews of Indigenous peoples. It seeks to decentralize power by rethinking and decolonizing power relations between the core and the periphery, between the state and local communities, aiming for a more equitable distribution of resources and benefits. It is essential to make visible and vindicate the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced, promoting an epistemic and political shift that dismantles the foundations of this system and paves the way for fairer and more inclusive models. References Andrade, V. M. (diciembre, 2019). La Teoría Crítica y el pensamiento decolonial: hacia un proyecto emancipatorio post–occidental. Revista Mexicana de Ciencias Políticas y Sociales, 65(238). https://doi.org/10.22201/fcpys.2448492xe.2020.238.67363Barroso, M. (2014). Feminismo decolonial: crítica y propuesta. Revista Estudos Feministas, 22(1), 1–15.Caracol Radio. (3 de julio, 2000). Europa felicita a mexicano por votación ejemplar. Caracol Radio. https://caracol.com.co/radio/2000/07/03/nacional/0962604000_023535.htmlConnelly, M. (2014). Historia de Taiwán. El Colegio de México.Corderos Galdós, H. (agosto, 2002). La denominada cláusula democrática como modalidad de condicionamiento en los Programas de Ayuda al Desarrollo de la Unión Europea. Agenda Internacional, (16), 123–136. https://doi.org/10.18800/agenda.200201.007Donoso Miranda, P. V. (diciembre, 2014). Pensamiento decolonial en Walter Mignolo: América Latina: ¿transformación de la geopolítica del conocimiento? Temas de Nuestra América, 30(56), 45–56.Mignolo, W. D. (2013). Geopolítica de la sensibilidad y del conocimiento: Sobre (de)colonialidad, pensamiento fronterizo y desobediencia epistémica. Revista de Filosofía, 80(1), 7–23.Mora, M. (2008). Decolonizing politics: Zapatista indigenous autonomy in an era of neoliberal governance and low intensity warfare [Tesis doctoral, The University of Texas at Austin]. https://repositories.lib.utexas.edu/server/api/core/bitstreams/68ba681a-a78b-4ddd-9441-32a92b0edf5c/contentOrganización de las Naciones Unidas (1945). Estatuto de la Corte Internacional de Justicia. 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AbstractThe increasing presence of foreign fighters in the armed conflict in Ukraine has posed significant challenges to the application of International Humanitarian Law (IHL). These foreign fighters, often motivated by political, ideological, or religious reasons, do not neatly fit into traditional legal categories such as lawful combatants, civilians, or mercenaries. Their involvement on both sides of the conflict between those supporting either Ukrainian forces or Russian-backed groups, presents a complex issue that requires careful consideration within the context of IHL, which currently lacks clear provisions for addressing their legal status. This study focuses on the research question: Does the involvement of foreign fighters in the armed conflict in Ukraine comply with the principles of International Humanitarian Law? This issue is particularly important as it exposes significant gaps in IHL, revealing its inability to adequately address the complexities of modern armed conflicts involving non-state actors. Employing a juridical-normative approach, this study examines the application of IHL to foreign fighters in the Russia-Ukraine conflict, focusing on their rights, responsibilities, and accountability. The findings show that IHL lacks specific provisions to regulate the legal status of foreign fighters, relying instead on general human rights principles that fail to address their unique circumstances. This creates a legal vacuum, undermining both their protection and the enforcement of accountability for violations. The study concludes that targeted reforms in IHL are urgently needed to establish clear legal standards for the classification, protection, and prosecution of foreign fighters, thereby strengthening the overall humanitarian framework for contemporary armed conflicts.KeywordsForeign fighters, Russia, Armed conflict, Humanitarian law, Ukraine 1. Introduction The Russia-Ukraine conflict, which has been ongoing since Russia's annexation of Crimea in 2014, has escalated into a complex and devastating war. This conflict, deeply rooted in geopolitical tensions, has drawn the attention of the international community, not only due to the implications for regional stability but also for the growing role of foreign fighters. The involvement of foreign fighters in the conflict adds a new layer of complexity to the already volatile situation. These individuals, who join armed conflicts in foreign territories, are often motivated by political, ideological, religious, or financial reasons, and their presence in Ukraine raises serious legal, political, and humanitarian questions (Asya et al., 2024). The role of foreign fighters has become increasingly significant in modern warfare, with their participation often blurring the lines between combatants, civilians, and mercenaries (Anjelika et al., 2024)The primary challenge posed by the involvement of foreign fighters in Ukraine lies in the legal uncertainty surrounding their status under International Humanitarian Law (IHL). IHL, which governs the conduct of armed conflicts and seeks to protect individuals who are not actively participating in hostilities, does not provide clear guidelines for foreign fighters. These fighters, who do not represent a state or recognized party to the conflict, do not neatly fall into categories such as lawful combatants or civilians, making their legal status ambiguous. This creates a gap in the legal framework, complicating the application of IHL to their actions and raising critical questions about accountability, rights, and protections under international law (Alexander, 2023) (see Table 1, Table 2).   The significance of this study stems from the need to address these legal uncertainties and to understand how IHL can be adapted to regulate the involvement of foreign fighters in modern conflicts. Despite the growing prevalence of foreign fighters in conflicts around the world, the existing body of IHL has not sufficiently addressed their status or the challenges they pose to the protection of human rights and the enforcement of accountability (Paulussen, 2021). By focusing specifically on the Ukraine conflict, this study aims to fill a significant gap in current legal scholarship by analyzing the implications of foreign fighters' participation through the lens of IHL. The involvement of foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict has profound implications not only for the legal treatment of these individuals but also for the broader geopolitical context (Idris & Mu'tashim, 2023). Their participation exacerbates tensions between Russia and Western countries, as foreign fighters supporting Ukraine often come from nations with opposing political interests to Russia. This dynamic further complicates diplomatic efforts aimed at resolving the conflict and maintaining international peace. Additionally, the presence of foreign fighters contributes to the growing trend of non-state actors engaging in warfare, challenging traditional notions of state sovereignty and complicating international efforts to regulate armed conflict (Lekatompessy et al., 2024). From a humanitarian perspective, the presence of foreign fighters increases the risks of violations of IHL and human rights, as these individuals may not be subject to the same legal frameworks as state actors. The lack of clear legal provisions for foreign fighters leaves them vulnerable to exploitation, abuse, and violations of their rights, while also creating a situation in which accountability for violations becomes difficult to enforce (Akbar & Sadiawati, 2023). This not only undermines the protection of civilians but also weakens the enforcement of humanitarian norms, further complicating the efforts of international organizations and states to address violations of IHL. This study is particularly important because it seeks to address the legal vacuum that exists concerning foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict. By examining the application of IHL to foreign fighters, this research contributes to the broader field of international law by proposing a more comprehensive framework for regulating their involvement. Through this examination, the study aims to provide concrete recommendations for legal reforms within IHL that would better address the challenges posed by foreign fighters in modern armed conflicts. The rationale for this study lies in the growing recognition that IHL, as it currently stands, is insufficient to address the complexities of modern warfare, particularly when it comes to the participation of non-state actors like foreign fighters. As the world witnesses an increasing number of foreign fighters engaging in conflicts worldwide, it is essential to adapt international legal frameworks to these new realities. This study not only contributes to the understanding of IHL's limitations but also proposes practical legal reforms that could enhance its effectiveness in protecting human rights and ensuring accountability in future conflicts. The involvement of foreign fighters in Ukraine represents a critical point at which the gaps in IHL are laid bare. As such, this study holds significant relevance for policymakers, international legal scholars, and human rights advocates, as it highlights the urgent need for reform and provides insights into how IHL can evolve to better respond to contemporary challenges. By addressing the legal status and accountability of foreign fighters, this study aims to contribute to the development of a more robust and responsive international legal system that can effectively address the complexities of modern warfare and uphold humanitarian principles in the face of emerging threats. 1.1. Literature review Previous research by Akbar and Sadiawati (2023), titled "Analysis of the Russian Invasion of Ukraine in Terms of Humanitarian Law", focuses on examining violations of the 1949 Geneva Conventions during the invasion and emphasizes the role of the United Nations in promoting global peace. The study provides a comprehensive analysis of the international legal framework, particularly humanitarian law, in addressing war crimes and violations committed during the conflict. Similarly, Nasution and Raudia (2022, pp. 361–374), in their article "Analysis of Russian War Violations in the 2022 Ukrainian Conflict Based on the Perspective of International Humanitarian Law", discusses the breaches of humanitarian law committed by Russia during the conflict. Their study highlights key violations under international legal standards and emphasizes the need for accountability based on humanitarian law principles. Masri et al. (2024), in their study titled "Implementation of International Humanitarian Law in the Russia-Ukraine Conflict", explore the application of international humanitarian law (IHL) within the context of the Russia-Ukraine war. Their research delves into how IHL has been enforced and its effectiveness in mitigating harm during the conflict. While these studies extensively analyze IHL violations in the Russia-Ukraine war, they focus primarily on state actors, with limited attention to the role of foreign fighters. This paper fills this gap by analyzing the participation of foreign fighters, their classification under IHL, and the legal protections afforded to them. 1.2. Theoretical framework1.2.1. Theories of state sovereignty and territorial integrity The theory of state sovereignty and territorial integrity originates from classical thinkers like Bodin (2009), Hugo Grotius (1964), and Kant (1991). Bodin defined sovereignty as supreme authority free from external interference, while Grotius emphasized its role as a cornerstone of international law. Kant argued that territorial integrity was vital for peaceful inter-state relations. These principles were codified in Article 2(4) of the UN Charter (1945), prohibiting threats or force against a state's territorial integrity or political independence. In the Russia-Ukraine conflict, these principles are acutely relevant. Russia's annexation of Crimea (2014), support for separatists in Donetsk and Luhansk, and the 2022 invasion breach sovereignty and international law. Moerdijat (2022) highlights these violations' severity, while Pisano (2022) examines their destabilizing effects on regional geopolitics. Thus, this theory offers a legal and analytical lens to assess the conflict's ramifications for the global order. 1.2.2. Theories of international humanitarian law (IHL) The development of IHL stems from contributions by scholars like Jean Pictet, who stressed protecting individuals in conflicts, and Hugo Grotius, whose De Jure Belli ac Pacis advocated for war regulation through moral and legal principles. J.F. Murphy (1982) linked IHL with human rights, Antonio Cassese (2013) explored IHL's role in mitigating human rights violations during war, and Theodor Meron (2006) advanced civilian protections and war crime regulations. These foundations emphasize protecting non-combatants, limiting warfare methods, and clarifying states' obligations. In Ukraine, IHL faces challenges like the ambiguous legal status of foreign fighters. Akbar and Sadiawati (2023) highlight gaps in their protections, while the BBC (2023) reports on the Wagner Group's role in exacerbating violations, such as civilian attacks and disproportionate force. These challenges underscore the need for stricter adherence to IHL to mitigate humanitarian crises and uphold legal standards. 1.2.3. Theories of globalization in modern warfare Theories on globalization's impact on warfare are shaped by thinkers like Mary Kaldor (2013), who contrasts traditional "old wars" with "new wars" involving non-state actors, and Zygmunt Bauman (1998), who links globalization to interconnected dynamics reshaping warfare. Robert D. Kaplan (1994) connects globalization to growing socio-economic inequalities and asymmetric conflicts. These theories argue that globalization's technological, economic, and communicative aspects have transformed war by introducing non-state actors and advanced technologies. The Russia-Ukraine conflict illustrates globalization's role in modern warfare. The participation of foreign fighters, whether aiding Ukraine's International Territorial Defense Legion or Russia's Wagner Group, reflects globalization's influence. Mehra and Thorley (2022) note motivations like ideology and economics, while Chakyan Tang (2022) highlights both solidarity and challenges introduced by non-state actors. Globalization expands conflicts' scope and complexity, complicating regulation while reshaping modern warfare's nature. 2. Methodology This research employs a juridical-normative method using a legal approach to examine the Ukraine-Russia conflict within the framework of International Humanitarian Law (IHL) (Gunawan et al., 2023). The primary objective is to explore how the actions of the parties involved align with the established principles and norms of international law. A juridical-normative approach is used to systematically analyze laws, regulations, and legal principles applicable to the conflict, particularly focusing on how these norms are implemented or potentially violated by the involved actors. The study relies on qualitative normative research methods, which involve document analysis of legal texts and secondary sources to gain a comprehensive understanding of the legal framework governing the conflict. This includes examining court decisions, legal doctrines, international treaties (such as the 1949 Geneva Conventions), and other relevant international instruments. Secondary sources, such as legal theories and expert opinions, also form a key part of the analysis. Through this approach, the research offers a comprehensive analysis of compliance with, or violations of, the principles of International Humanitarian Law (IHL) in the conflict. The document analysis process, as the primary data collection method, incorporates legal hermeneutics to interpret and clarify the meaning of legal texts, ensuring an accurate understanding of their application in the context of the Ukraine conflict. Comparative analysis is also employed to examine how IHL principles have been applied in similar conflicts, providing a benchmark for evaluating their implementation or breach in this case. The analysis focuses on primary legal materials, including treaties, conventions, official communications, and resolutions from international organizations, to establish a foundational understanding of the legal framework. These are complemented by secondary legal materials, such as academic literature, legal commentaries, and expert opinions, which provide critical insights and context. This methodological combination ensures a robust and nuanced evaluation of how IHL principles are being upheld or violated, strengthening the validity and reliability of the findings. 3. Results and discussion3.1. Legal framework for foreign fighters The status of foreign fighters under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) remains contentious and ambiguous. While the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols primarily regulate the conduct of state actors and recognized combatants, they offer limited guidance for non-state participants, such as foreign fighters. These individuals find themselves in a legal gray area, as the Geneva Conventions focus mainly on the protection of civilians and combatants who are part of a state's armed forces or organized resistance groups. Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions and Additional Protocol II extend limited protections to non-state actors involved in non-international armed conflicts, emphasizing humane treatment and prohibiting acts like torture or degrading treatment (M, 2001). However, these provisions do not explicitly address the legal status, rights, or obligations of foreign fighters who may not be formally part of an organized state or non-state armed force. Additional Protocol I further complicates this issue. For example, Article 47 of Protocol I explicitly excludes mercenaries from the status of combatants or prisoners of war (POWs), effectively denying them the legal protections afforded to lawful combatants (Geraldy Diandra Aditya, Soekotjo Hardiwinoto, 2017). This exclusion raises questions regarding the legal status of foreign fighters who may not fit neatly into the categories of lawful combatant, civilian, or unlawful belligerent. As a result, the legal position of foreign fighters in modern armed conflicts, such as the Ukraine-Russia conflict, remains unclear and potentially subject to exploitation or abuse. A table listing key international treaties, conventions, and resolutions relevant to foreign fighters could illustrate the legal tools available for regulating their conduct and holding them accountable. The table could include categories such as. 3.1.1. Legal status and responsibilities of foreign fighters Foreign fighters have become a notable element of modern conflicts, including in Ukraine, where individuals from various countries have joined both sides of the conflict. Their participation raises significant legal and ethical questions, particularly regarding their status under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) and the accountability for their actions. IHL, as defined by the Geneva Conventions and the Hague Conventions, does not explicitly mention "foreign fighters" but provides a legal framework for determining their status based on their activities and allegiance. Foreign fighters are typically categorized as either lawful combatants, unlawful combatants, or civilians, and their rights and responsibilities are governed by the laws of war (Hasan & Haque, 2023). a. Lawful Combatants, foreign fighters who join the armed forces of a state party to the conflict (e.g., Ukraine in the context of the Russian invasion) may be considered lawful combatants. As lawful combatants, they are entitled to the protections of IHL, including protection from being targeted and humane treatment if captured. They are subject to the laws of armed conflict, particularly the Geneva Conventions, and must adhere to principles such as distinction, proportionality, and the prohibition of unnecessary suffering. However, this status is contingent upon them being members of an organized military force that follows IHL regulations.b. Unlawful Combatans, foreign fighters who join non-state armed groups, such as mercenaries or irregular militias not recognized under IHL, are considered unlawful combatants. They are not entitled to the same protections as lawful combatants and may be prosecuted for violations of IHL, including acts that could constitute war crimes. The status of unlawful combatants often leads to challenges in terms of legal accountability, as their actions may not be adequately covered by state-based military tribunals or national courts. International efforts to hold foreign fighters accountable for violations such as the targeting of civilians or the use of prohibited weapons can be complicated by the lack of a clear framework for prosecuting non-state actors.c. Civilians, foreign nationals who participate in the conflict but do not take a direct part in hostilities are considered civilians and are protected by IHL. Their involvement in combat can alter their status, and they may lose their protection from direct targeting once they engage in hostilities. This creates a complex dynamic for the prosecution and accountability of foreign fighters, as their status may change based on their activities in the field. A table that compares the legal status of foreign fighters in different contexts could help clarify the varying rights and responsibilities under International Humanitarian Law (IHL). The table could include categories such as: Here is the map illustrating the geographical origins of foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict, showing their involvement with either the Ukrainian or Russian side. This visual provides a global context to their participation. 3.2. Ukraine's historical struggle: Russia's colonialism and imperialistic attitudes The relationship between Russia and Ukraine stretches back for centuries, characterized by a complex and often turbulent history. From the medieval period to modern times, Ukraine has faced numerous instances of Russian dominance and interference, which has shaped its national identity and its ongoing struggle for independence. This historical context is essential to understanding Ukraine's motivations to fight, as it reflects a long-standing resistance to Russian colonialism and imperialism. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Russia began consolidating its control over Ukrainian territories, particularly after the Treaty of Pereyaslav in 1654, which marked the beginning of Ukrainian subordination to the Tsarist empire (Britannica, 2025). Over the centuries, Ukraine's autonomy was eroded, and it became an integral part of the Russian Empire, with many Ukrainians subjected to harsh policies of Russification. The suppression of Ukrainian culture, language, and national identity under Tsarist rule set the stage for future tensions. The most devastating chapter of this colonial history came under Soviet rule, which exacerbated the sense of Russian imperialism. The Holodomor, a man-made famine in the early 1930s, is one of the darkest episodes in Ukrainian history. Millions of Ukrainians perished as a result of Stalin's policies, which sought to enforce collectivization at the cost of the Ukrainian people. This tragedy has left a lasting scar on the collective memory of Ukraine, fueling a deep-seated distrust of Russia and reinforcing the narrative of Ukrainian victimhood under Russian imperialism. Even after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and Ukraine's declaration of independence, Russia has continually sought to exert influence over Ukraine, often invoking its imperial past to justify intervention. Russia's annexation of Crimea in 2014 and its ongoing military actions in eastern Ukraine are seen by many as a continuation of the imperialistic attitude that has defined Russia's relationship with Ukraine for centuries. Ukraine's motivation to fight in the current conflict is deeply rooted in its desire to protect its sovereignty and preserve its cultural and political independence from Russian influence. This struggle is not just a response to Russia's aggression but a continuation of a centuries-long fight for self-determination, dating back to the period of Tsarist colonialism and reinforced by the Soviet era. The ongoing war represents Ukraine's determination to break free from the chains of Russian imperialism and secure its future as an independent, sovereign nation. 3.3. International humanitarian law review of Russia's armed attack in Ukraine After the Russian annexation of Crimea, tensions in relations between Russia and Ukraine continued until February 2022. These tensions began when NATO sought to expand its membership into Eastern Europe by inviting Ukraine to join as a member (Andi Antara Putra & Dantes, 2022). NATO has expressed its commitment to Ukraine's future membership, stating: "We reaffirm that we will be in a position to extend an invitation to Ukraine to join the Alliance when Allies agree and conditions are met (NATO, 2024b)." This position underscores NATO's openness to Ukraine's membership, contingent upon unanimous agreement among current member states and Ukraine's fulfillment of specified criteria. While NATO has not issued a formal invitation to Ukraine, it acknowledges Ukraine's aspirations and is actively supporting its progress toward potential membership. This support includes enhancing interoperability and implementing democratic and security sector reforms (NATO, 2024a). This represents an escalation of tensions between Russia and Western countries, especially NATO, as Eastern Europe has become a critical arena for competing geopolitical interests. NATO's post-Cold War expansion, which saw the inclusion of former Eastern Bloc countries such as Poland, Hungary, and the Baltic states, has been interpreted by Russia as a direct encroachment on its sphere of influence and a threat to its security. This tension was further amplified by NATO's 2008 declaration that Ukraine and Georgia would eventually become members, which Russia perceived as a red line. The strategic importance of Eastern Europe, both as a buffer zone and as a transit corridor for energy resources, adds to the stakes for both NATO and Russia. Russia's aggressive actions, including the 2014 annexation of Crimea and its ongoing involvement in Eastern Ukraine, can be seen as attempts to counterbalance NATO's growing presence in the region. Conversely, NATO's military support to Eastern European nations underscores its commitment to collective defense and the deterrence of Russian aggression, further fueling the geopolitical rivalry. Geopolitical influence and efforts to strengthen military presence in the region are important factors in the dynamics of the ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine. Russia's insistence that it will not allow Ukraine to "break away," viewing it as a threat to its interests and security (Mamfaluthy, 2014), raises significant tensions with international law principles, particularly the respect for national sovereignty. The United Nations Charter guarantees every state the right to sovereignty, territorial integrity, and political independence, which includes Ukraine's right to determine its domestic and foreign policies without external interference. While Russia argues that Ukraine's potential NATO membership or Western alignment threatens its security, such concerns do not justify actions that violate Ukraine's sovereignty, such as the annexation of Crimea or support for separatist movements in Eastern Ukraine. Although international law permits states to take measures to protect legitimate security interests, these must align with legal norms and avoid infringing on the sovereignty of other states. Russia's actions contravene these principles, as reaffirmed by UN General Assembly resolutions recognizing Ukraine's territorial integrity. This tension highlights a clash between Russia's realpolitik approach to securing its strategic interests and the international legal obligation to respect the sovereignty and independence of other nations. In Putin's view, all countries that are members of NATO have the full right to organize and protect their territories from all threats, both from within and outside the country (Pradana & Ramadhoan, 2022). Putin's opinion reflects the view that NATO membership by countries surrounding Russia, including Ukraine, is perceived as a threat to Russia's security. This is reflected in concerns over the deployment of NATO military infrastructure near Russia's borders, which could be perceived as a direct threat to Russia's strategic interests. Putin has therefore insisted on taking measures he deems necessary to protect Russia's interests and sovereignty. This has led to increased tensions between Russia and Western countries that support Ukraine's membership in NATO. Russia's response to Finland's NATO membership contrasts sharply with its actions toward Ukraine, mainly due to the differing historical and cultural ties with each country. Finland views its NATO membership primarily as a defensive strategy, while Ukraine's relationship with Russia has deep historical and cultural roots. Finland's strong military, combined with NATO's collective defense principles, serves as a deterrent to Russian aggression, whereas Russia, already heavily engaged in Ukraine, avoids provoking NATO. This difference highlights that Russia's actions toward Ukraine are driven by regional dominance ambitions, rather than NATO expansion. Russia's intervention in Ukraine violates the principle of non-intervention, which is a fundamental tenet of international law. Non-intervention asserts that each state has the right to manage its internal affairs without external interference (Octavia & Husniyah, 2023). Article 2, paragraph 4 of the UN Charter emphasizes the importance of peaceful dispute resolution and the avoidance of armed conflict. Russia's actions also contravene the Declaration on Principles of International Law (A/RES/25/2625, 1970), which upholds the national sovereignty, territorial integrity, and political independence of states, emphasizing that disputes should be resolved peacefully and without violence (Mahfud, 2015; Rudy, 2011). Furthermore, Article 38 of the Statute of the International Court of Justice broadens the sources of international humanitarian law (IHL), allowing for inclusion of legal principles recognized by civilized nations, international organizations, and expert opinions, not limited to international treaties (Budisantosa, 2021). This further underscores the importance of respecting IHL and the sovereignty of states in the global legal framework. While the international treaties that are the main foundation of IHL are the Hague Conventionand the Geneva Convention (Pasorong et al., 2023). The Hague Convention regulates the laws of war governing the treatment of individuals and property in armed conflicts, while the Geneva Convention sets minimum standards for the treatment of war victims, including the protection of civilians, prisoners of war, and medical personnel. These two conventions form an important legal framework for safeguarding humanity during armed conflicts and have been the main basis for the formation of further IHL rules. IHL cannot cover all actions in international wars, but parties to armed conflicts are obliged to respect and uphold the basic principles of IHL these include (Danial, 2017). a. The Humanitarian Principle: Demands that actions in armed conflict should take into account the interests of humanity and avoid unnecessary suffering of individuals not involved in the conflict.b. Military Interests: Recognizes that military actions taken should be proportionate to the military objectives to be achieved and should minimize unnecessary losses.c. Proportionality: States that military actions must be in accordance with legitimate military interests and must be proportionate to the threat faced.d. Distinction: Stipulates that parties to a conflict must distinguish between individuals participating in the conflict (military) and those not participating (civilians), as well as between military and non-military objects.e. Prohibition of Unnecessary Suffering: Prohibits acts that cause unnecessary suffering or that are incompatible with legitimate military objectives.f. Separation of Ius ad Bellum and Ius in Bello: Distinguishes between the law governing the authority to use military force (Ius ad Bellum) and the law governing the behavior of the parties to the conflict (Ius in Bello). Russia's armed attack on Ukraine violated several fundamental principles of international humanitarian law (IHL). First, it breached the principle of state sovereignty by violating Ukraine's territorial integrity and political independence, contravening Article 2, paragraph 4 of the UN Charter, which prohibits the use of force against another state's territorial integrity. Second, the attack violated the principle of distinction, as there have been reports of civilian casualties from Russian military strikes, which should have been targeted at combatants and military objectives. Third, the strikes caused unnecessary suffering to the civilian population and infrastructure, violating the prohibition against unnecessary suffering in IHL. Overall, Russia's actions are considered serious violations of IHL and universally recognized humanitarian principles. 3.4. Foreign fighters in the context of international humanitarian law The conflict in Ukraine has brought attention to the complexities of international law, particularly regarding foreign fighters in armed conflicts. According to Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions, the conflict qualifies as a Non-International Armed Conflict (NIAC), which involves non-state armed groups like insurgents or separatists against state forces (Brits, 2017; Mehra & Thorley, 2017; Mehra & Thorley, 2022). However, the involvement of Russia complicates this classification, leading some to argue the conflict may be an International Armed Conflict (IAC) governed by the Geneva Conventions and the First Additional Protocol, which set standards for the protection of civilians and prisoners of war (Susetio & Muliawan, 2023). The Second Additional Protocol (APII) further outlines protections for civilians and individuals not directly participating in hostilities, providing essential legal instruments for the Ukraine conflict (Ismail, 2018). Despite the ongoing debate over the conflict's classification, IHL standards, including protections against torture and inhumane treatment, apply. These standards include principles such as proportionality and distinction, aiming to safeguard civilians and regulate military conduct (Gisel et al., 2020; Murray, 2019). The classification of the conflict is crucial in determining the application of IHL, especially regarding civilian protection, and distinguishing between military targets and non-combatants (Diakonia, 2022). The influx of foreign fighters, particularly through the International Territorial Defense Legion initiated by Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, has further complicated the conflict. Since 2014, thousands of foreign fighters from 55 nations have joined the conflict, which could escalate tensions and potentially violate IHL if human rights abuses occur (Egle E. Murauskaite, 2022; Nigel Walker, 2023). The presence of foreign fighters raises significant questions regarding their legal status and responsibilities within the conflict. The term "Foreign Fighters" lacks a universally accepted definition in international law. The most authoritative definition originates from UN Security Council Resolution 2178, which references "foreign terrorist fighters." A foreign terrorist fighter is defined as an individual who travels to a country other than their own to engage in activities that support terrorism, including (Bramantyo, 2023). a. Committing acts of terrorism, characterized by violence or threats aimed at instilling fear or causing harm to civilians for political objectives.b. Planning or preparing acts of terrorism, such as target surveillance, recruitment, or weapon acquisition.c. Participating directly in acts of terrorism, providing logistical support, or harboring perpetrators.d. Receiving or providing terrorism-related training, which includes the use of weapons, explosives, or guerrilla tactics. The UN Security Council's approach to foreign fighters emphasizes counterterrorism, evident in the focus of Resolution 2178 on their roles in terrorism. However, this counterterrorism perspective has been adopted at the national level by various member states, shaping their responses to foreign fighters. Various definitions of "foreign combatants" have emerged in academic literature, with one prevalent definition describing individuals motivated by ideology, religion, or kinship to leave their country to join an armed conflict abroad (Van Poecke & Cuyckens, 2023). Key aspects of this definition include. 1) Motivation, foreign combatants are driven by ideological, religious, or familial factors rather than personal gain.2) Movement, they travel from their home country to engage in conflict in another nation.3) Active involvement, their participation extends to combat or related activities. The classification of "foreign combatants" specifically refers to individuals joining non-state armed groups in conflicts abroad, often motivated by ideological, religious, or kinship ties (Baker-Beall, 2023). This classification excludes mercenaries or volunteers driven by other factors. While national security and counterterrorism are frequently the focus of discussions about foreign fighters, categorizing them as terrorists does not negate the application of International Humanitarian Law (IHL), which applies equally to all belligerents, including foreign fighters. Their actions in armed conflicts should be evaluated according to IHL principles (Ho, 2019). The term "foreign terrorist fighters" may complicate legal proceedings by focusing primarily on counterterrorism rather than recognizing the nuances of foreign fighter involvement in armed conflicts. These individuals often participate in both non-state armed conflicts and terrorist activities (Karska & Karski, 2016). The distinction between "foreign fighters" and "mercenaries" is also important, as foreign fighters typically join armed groups for ideological reasons, whereas mercenaries are financially motivated (Floress, 2016; Dano, 2022). Russia's use of the term "mercenaries" may be intended to influence public perception and emphasize the economic aspects of their participation.  Article 47 of the 1977 First Additional Protocol (API) to the Geneva Conventions outlines the legal status of foreign fighters and the limitations on applying the Convention's provisions to individuals from non-signatory states. However, Article 47(2) reinforces that human rights protections remain in effect for foreign fighters, and the responsibilities of conflict parties under IHL are unaffected (Gregorious, 2023). As foreign fighter involvement in conflicts like Ukraine increases, challenges arise regarding their legal status and protections under IHL, necessitating careful consideration of both legal and humanitarian aspects in addressing these issues. 3.5. Human rights of foreign fighters in the context of international humanitarian law The ongoing conflict between Ukraine and Russia has resulted in severe material and psychological consequences for both the civilian population and combatants. Amidst this turmoil, the participation of foreign fighters has garnered significant attention, raising questions about their status and human rights within the framework of International Humanitarian Law (IHL). Despite their involvement in armed conflict, foreign fighters retain certain rights and protections under IHL, necessitating a thorough assessment of their legal status, actions during the conflict, and involvement in armed groups. Thus, the protection of their human rights must be carefully considered in accordance with the principles of IHL, which guarantee fair and humane treatment for all parties involved. 3.5.1. Concerns regarding due process and human rights violations The recent sentencing of three foreign fighters to death by the Supreme Court of the Donetsk Republic has raised serious concerns about adherence to international legal standards. These sentences were issued after proceedings criticized for being swift and unfair, raising alarms about violations of the right to a fair trial, including access to legal counsel and the right to present a defense. The United Nations Commission on Human Rights has previously reported violations in the region, indicating a troubling disregard for internationally recognized human rights norms. In response, the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) intervened, directing Russia to halt the use of the death penalty and to respect the rights of foreign fighters. This underscores the critical need to uphold fundamental human rights, even amidst armed conflict, and to ensure that individuals engaged in hostilities receive basic protections recognized by international law. 3.5.2. The issue of citizenship and nationality The citizenship status of foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict is complex due to varying national legal frameworks and policies regarding participation in foreign armed conflicts. Some countries have enacted laws revoking citizenship for involvement in terrorist activities or foreign conflicts, citing national security concerns, though critics argue these measures often lack transparency and due process, risking arbitrary deprivation of nationality. The revocation of citizenship leaves individuals in a legal limbo, vulnerable to prosecution or ill-treatment in other states. Statelessness, a common outcome of citizenship loss, exacerbates vulnerability by denying individuals access to basic rights like education, healthcare, and employment. This issue has significant implications for international human rights. The UN plays a key role in addressing these challenges by facilitating dialogue, monitoring compliance with international law, and advocating for human rights protections. Regional organizations, such as the EU, are also critical in promoting unified approaches and adherence to human rights standards in the treatment of foreign fighters. 3.5.3. Human rights protections under IHL The Geneva Conventions, particularly the Fourth Geneva Convention, emphasize the humane treatment of all individuals in conflict, including civilians and those detained. Article 3 requires non-participants in hostilities, such as civilians and prisoners, to be treated humanely, ensuring respect for basic human rights regardless of nationality or political affiliation. In light of citizenship revocation, states involved in armed conflict must assess their obligations under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) to avoid human rights violations. Revoking citizenship can undermine protections for prisoners of war (POWs), who are entitled to humane treatment, a fair trial, and protection from torture. Arbitrary revocation of nationality risks violating due process, leaving individuals stateless and vulnerable to ill-treatment. States must ensure that national security policies do not compromise fundamental rights. Upholding human rights is not just a legal requirement but a reflection of a state's commitment to justice. International organizations, such as the United Nations and regional bodies, have a crucial role in monitoring compliance and advocating for the rights of those affected by armed conflict. 3.5.4. Obligations of states and international accountability The right to return is a fundamental principle in international law, safeguarding individuals from arbitrary state actions that could lead to statelessness or human rights violations. This right is especially relevant for foreign fighters, who may face citizenship revocation upon returning from conflict zones, further exacerbating their vulnerabilities. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) stresses that states are obligated to investigate war crimes committed by their nationals and ensure accountability. Revoking citizenship and transferring legal responsibility to other states can create a culture of impunity and hinder accountability for war crimes. Denying the right to return can lead to further human rights abuses, including inhumane detention or exposure to violence in conflict zones. Article 12 of the ICCPR affirms that all individuals have the right to return to their own country, emphasizing that this right is not contingent on actions or affiliations. States must avoid arbitrary deprivation of nationality, particularly in conflict contexts, to preserve these rights. Adhering to International Humanitarian Law (IHL) and human rights standards is crucial to maintaining trust and accountability within the international community. A balanced approach that considers both security and humanitarian principles is necessary in addressing modern conflicts. 4. Research limitations While this study provides valuable insights into the legal frameworks surrounding foreign fighters in the context of the Russia-Ukraine conflict, it is important to acknowledge several limitations. First, the study is limited to a normative analysis of IHL, focusing primarily on the legal aspects of Russia's military aggression against Ukraine, without delving deeply into the political and social dynamics that also play a significant role in shaping the conflict. Second, the sources of data utilized are predominantly drawn from international legal documents and reports issued by international organizations, which may not fully capture the perspectives of all parties involved, particularly those who are underrepresented in global discourse. Third, while the study adheres to established international legal approaches, it faces challenges in assessing the practical application of IHL in the field, due to difficulties in obtaining sensitive or potentially biased information from diverse sources. Fourth, the research does not specifically address the role of third-party states supporting one of the conflicting parties, a dimension that could significantly complicate the interpretation of IHL. In light of these constraints, it is recommended that future research adopt a more holistic and inclusive approach to explore these complexities in greater depth. 5. Conclusion The ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine involves direct military engagements between Russian and Ukrainian forces, along with the participation of pro-Russian separatist groups in eastern Ukraine. Foreign combatants have also become a significant factor on both sides of the conflict. Individuals from various countries have joined the Ukrainian side, either as volunteers or part of organized military units, while Russia has provided support to pro-Russian factions, including involvement of Russian foreign combatants. The legal status of foreign combatants is unclear under International Humanitarian Law (IHL), which primarily addresses the rights and obligations of states, military forces, and civilians, leaving ambiguous the status of foreign combatants, whether they act on behalf of non-state armed groups or as independent volunteers. There is a need to avoid misusing terrorism laws that do not differentiate between foreign volunteers, combatants, and mercenaries, as this could undermine the core objectives of IHL, which include ensuring humane conduct in war. IHL's primary goal is to mitigate human suffering during war, not to prevent conflict. It aims to make warfare more humane, ensuring that all combatants, including foreign ones, enjoy the same human rights as nationals. Violations of these rights, such as deprivation of citizenship or the right to life, cannot be justified under any circumstances. As the conflict persists, all parties must respect IHL to safeguard the dignity of individuals and ensure justice and accountability in the conflict. CRediT authorship contribution statementKhoirunnisa Khoirunnisa: Conceptualization. Brian Matthew: Resources. Didi Jubaidi: Conceptualization. Agung Yudhistira Nugroho: Conceptualization.Data availability statementThe data used in this study were obtained from publicly available sources such as the Open Access Library, DOAJ (Directory of Open Access Journals) and , as indicated in the Data section of the article.Funding statementThis research was supported by a grant from xxxxxxxx which had no role in study design, data collection, analysis, interpretation of results, or writing of this article.Declaration of competing interestThe authors declare that there are no conflicts of interest associated with this publication. No financial, personal, or professional relationships with other individuals or organizations have influenced or could potentially influence the work presented in this manuscript.AcknowledgementsThe authors would like to thank all those who have provided technical support and valuable input during this research process.Khoirunnisa Khoirunnisa, Brian Matthew, Didi Jubaidi, Agung Yudhistira Nugroho, The Ukraine-Russia conflict: An international humanitarian law review of the involvement of foreign fighters, Social Sciences & Humanities Open, Volume 11, 2025, 101340, ISSN 2590-2911, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ssaho.2025.101340.ReferencesAkbar and Sadiawati, 2023, M.N. Akbar, D. Sadiawati, Analysis of the Russian invasion of Ukraine in terms of humanitarian law, Jurnal Ilmiah Mizani: Wacana Hukum, Ekonomi, Dan Keagamaan, 10 (1) (2023), p. 160, 10.29300/mzn.v10i1.10760Alexander, 2023, A. 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Abstract Recent changes in US foreign policy and strategic posture have forced Europe to think about meeting its security needs without US support. One issue that requires a particular focus is the question of how to deter and defend against Russia in a conventional war. This article attempts a high-level assessment of European military capability and considers whether existing military doctrine is adequate. It argues that Europe should maintain its focus on NATO’s manoeuvrist mode of war fighting and identifies key capability gaps that need to be filled for (a) a coalition of the willing and (b) Europe as a whole to be able to fight in this way. It cautions against an unduly defensive, attritional method of fighting, based on conscript armies, as playing to Russia’s strengths instead of our own. Introduction War has come back to Europe and so has the need to think about how to fight it. Between 24 February 2022 and 21 January 2024, we put the need to rethink our defence to one side, because the Biden administration allowed us the luxury of being able to repurpose Cold War institutions (most obviously NATO), deterrence and habits to support Ukraine and dissuade Russia from another overt attack. This was a mixed blessing, because while it saved us the need to put our societies and economies on a war footing, it also blinded us to the need to build something new. The old system was not the best to contend with Russia’s aggression. While the US had only half an eye on Europe—with the rest of its focus on China—Western Europeans continued to free-ride on American resources. Neither Germany’s Zeitenwende, nor the aspersion cast by Emanuel Macron that ‘NATO is brain-dead’ (Macron 2019) translated into larger defence budgets, increased orders for ammunition, the conversion of civilian manufacturing to military use or the running of plants in shifts to replenish stockpiles. Only the Nordics, Baltics and Poland really moved to a war footing, and even their restructuring suffered from a desire, exposed as wishful thinking by Trump’s victory in November 2024, to keep the US involved. Now, with the US being led by an unstable pro-Russian Donald Trump and an anti-European JD Vance, the choice has been made for us. Steps are already being taken to prepare Europe’s industrial base, whether it is the creation of a European defence commissioner, Germany’s removal of its debt brake or initiatives such as the EU’s proposed Security Action for Europe (SAFE) financing instrument. But our political elite also needs to educate itself beyond these industrial and economic matters. War has once again become an essential part of what every responsible political leader needs to know. As it had been until 1945, if not 1989, some understanding of the military arts has, unfortunately, again become indispensable for European statespeople. This article will start by outlining certain concepts to help inform our debate about how we defend ourselves against Russia. It will relate them to the state of our military equipment, and pose questions about how we should fight with what we have, and how we should make more of what we need to fight in the way that gives us the maximum advantage over Russia. It will ask what elements of the existing NATO way of war should be kept, and which ought to be replaced, as a new European way of war—a European ‘doctrine’—is developed. And it will identify the key gaps in capability that need to be filled to apply such a doctrine in two scenarios: one where most of Europe confronts Russia (excluding neutrals, such as Ireland or Austria; potentially hostile states, such as Hungary and Slovakia; and Greece and Turkey, which deploy military resources to deter a conflict between themselves), and another where the burden is taken up by a coalition of the willing. This coalition is drawn up narrowly to constitute the Nordic–Baltic Eight (NB8),1 the UK, Poland and Ukraine. Other countries, for example, Czechia and the Netherlands, would currently be considered part of this coalition, but their contributions have, conservatively, been excluded for the purpose of this assessment. This article does not assume that the European military effort should replicate the American one (for the cost of replication, see Wolff 2025). Instead it seeks to assess how Europe would deter and defeat Russia in ways that exploit our advantages against the Russian military. We do not need to replace the Americans one-for-one, but nor should we replicate Russia’s relatively low-technology and low-skill warfare. That would be to give up the strongest advantages our free and technologically advanced societies provide. Centre of gravity The first concept we need to outline is the ‘centre of gravity’: the phrase, whose application to war we owe to Clausewitz (1918, 270), refers to that feature of a belligerent that will cause it to change its behaviour when subject to pressure. The aim of military strategy, he argued, was not necessarily the destruction of the enemy’s forces, still less their population, but the application of force to their centre of gravity in order to achieve your war aim. With this in view, the most important question for European military planners is, where is Putin’s, or Russia’s, centre of gravity? This question will occupy our strategists’ minds for the foreseeable future: its answer includes determining whether it is Putin, or some other group in the Russian elite, such as the military, energy producers or business oligarchs, on whom pressure should be applied, and if so what pressure is required. Under what conditions would Putin sue for peace, or be replaced by someone who would, if Russia extended its war to conventional military aggression against Europe? Only once these conditions have been identified, is it then relevant to ask how they might be brought about. This consideration of centre of gravity begs an important question: how is Russia to be deterred from attacking Europe? How can sufficiently severe consequences be imposed on Russia, bearing in mind that the loss of almost 400 aircraft (Minfin.com.ua 2025) and several thousand tanks, and close to a million men killed and wounded have not been enough to push Putin to retreat from Ukraine? It is, however, necessary to pose this question, because there is a temptation to avoid it by focusing on ‘deterrence by denial’. This idea would be to defend ourselves in the manner in which the Chinese are thought to defend themselves against the US: by preventing US forces from landing in China by attacking its large, expensive ships. This does not apply to the Russian case for two reasons: first, Russia is willing to sacrifice men and equipment in human-wave assaults; the only equipment it seems to have decided to preserve is its air force. Second, Russia has a land border with Europe, so it does not need to attack using small numbers of vulnerable ships. Denial is extremely difficult against human-wave attacks, as US forces found in Korea, and Iraqis found in the Iran–Iraq war when revolutionary Iran employed them. (See Meyer zum Felde 2024 for a deterrence by denial–focused approach.) Order of battle A second concept is the ‘order of battle’: what are the forces arranged on either side of a conflict and how do they measure up to each other? As well as military units, it is worthwhile also considering the broader elements of societal strength—economic, political and cultural—that each side has, and how these contribute to the war effort. For example, our open societies leave us more vulnerable to hybrid attacks and disinformation, but on the other hand supply great strength and flexibility. Democratic societies do not wait for the government to tell them what to do, but organise social defence in ways that dictatorships find more difficult; the market economy possesses enormous flexibility that centrally planned systems do not; and an entrepreneurial can-do culture can also produce superior military performance through the concept of ‘mission command’ (see below). But the first question is who would be fighting? Sometimes pieces are written as if it would only be Britain and France confronting Russia (Barker et al. 2025), but borders have shifted since the Cold War: Eastern Europe, including the highly capable Polish and Finnish militaries, as well, of course, as Europe’s strongest army, Ukraine’s, would be arrayed against Moscow, not operating under its orders. Europe’s total military-age population is considerably greater than Russia’s. If Austria, Hungary, Ireland and Slovakia are excluded for political reasons, and Greece and Turkey as well, because they will wish to preserve resources in case a conflict breaks out between them, ‘Europe’ has 89.5 million military-age men and 88 million military-age women, compared to Russia’s 31 million military-age men and 33 million military-age women.2 The question of how such forces are recruited and generated, particularly in the economically more successful parts of Europe, is of course relevant, but the sheer capacity to provide sufficient personnel is not in doubt. It is useful to consider the matter of mobilisation. Russia was in transition from a conscript to a professional army when it launched its attack on Ukraine. It still mobilises 160,000 men per year, mostly to fill rearguard positions and free up front-line deployment for professional troops. This is equivalent to 17% of the annual cohort of young men.3 Europe (as defined above) could generate similar forces without much difficulty. A one-year cohort of the European population includes 2.7 million men and 2.5 million women. Even if it limited itself to calling up men, it would only need to recruit 6% of the population. Such a number would be feasible with a voluntary reserve service programme, and would not require universal conscription. Considering the countries most at risk of Russian aggression, and most likely to need to defend against it, presents a starker picture. The NB8 plus Poland and the UK between them have an annual cohort of 7.7 million men and 7.3 million women. If the male population of these countries took part in military service at the same rate as Russians, this would generate 130,000 personnel, requiring an additional 30,000 female personnel to match Russian numbers. This would require a female reserve participation rate of 4%, which is an achievable figure. For example, at least 25% of Norway’s annual conscription quota comprises women. Despite a recent surge in calls to reintroduce universal military service in Europe, this is not necessarily advisable in all countries. Training a large cohort of conscripts takes resources away from exercises and advanced training for professional officers. While it may be justified for small nations on the front line, it is not the best use of resources for larger countries. The required manpower needs can in most cases be met by a selective reserve system. European stocks of platforms (as distinct from ammunition stocks, which are dangerously low) are also not outrageously out of balance with the requirement for a mission against Russia, though this is partly due to Ukraine’s destruction of Russian equipment since 2022. The following (table 1) compares stocks of fighter jets, main battle tanks and artillery pieces across several groups of European countries (some including Ukraine) versus Russia. This analysis is necessarily somewhat crude, as it excludes infantry fighting vehicles, mortars and other equipment. It also completely sets aside analysis of naval forces. Its fighter aircraft figures comprise fourth-generation fighters, old fighters (predating the fourth generation or the Warsaw Pact) and F35s.4 Finally, these figures do not take future production (either European or Russian) or the evolution of land and air drones into account (International Institute for Strategic Studies 2024).   Source: International Institute for Strategic Studies (2024). Note: This table compares the main platforms (fighter jets, main battle tanks and artillery pieces, including rocket artillery) that various European countries have at their disposal. Countries are placed in different categories and then compared against Russia. Each category also appears in two variants: one including Ukraine, and one that does not include Ukrainian forces. The ‘NB8+ coalition’ is the NB8 plus the UK and Poland. Non-neutral Europe means EU members plus the UK and Norway, but minus Ireland, Austria, Hungary and Slovakia. Using this table one can see, for example, that the NB8+ coalition has 542 fewer fighter jets at its disposal than Russia but essentially the same number of main battle tanks. With the exception of the scenario in which only the NB8+ coalition and Ukraine face off against Russia, Europe currently has approximately the required numbers of platforms to resist a Russian attack (bearing in mind a deficit in artillery pieces if Ukraine is not included). This leads to the following conclusions: • Ukraine needs to be considered an integral part of European defence against Russia, and its defeat would allow Russia to focus its forces on EU territory.• The coalition faces a notable air-power shortage in confronting Russia. While it has enough planes to deter Russian use of its aerospace, it does not have sufficient equipment to attempt to establish air superiority.• At an overall European level the priority should not be buying new platforms. Platform acquisition should be part of any rearmament plan, but priorities should be determined by the specific needs of a campaign against Russia, with importance given to filling the key gaps needed to conduct such a campaign. Platforms, ammunition and network-centric warfare The analysis above is only a first approximation of military strength. It considers only equipment and mobilisation potential, rather than force generation, and concentrates on land and air forces, setting aside the navy because a Euro-Russian conventional war would largely be fought on land. (The air force calculations do include naval aviation equipment, however, as these could be brought to bear). It also deals only with the main ‘platforms’: main battle tanks, fighter planes and artillery pieces, ignoring armoured personnel carriers and infantry fighting vehicles, engineering and support equipment, and, most importantly, ammunition. Simply replicating Russian numbers of platforms without considering communications, software and unmanned systems risks equipping ourselves to fight the last war (Tallis 2025). The spectrum that runs between a platform, which serves to move weapons systems into a place where they can be fired, and a piece of ammunition, fired from a platform, is another dimension of analysis. For example, during the Second World War the distinction was clear: an artillery shell was ammunition; an artillery piece a platform. But how should one categorise a cruise missile, which could be launched from a plane (so it appears to be ammunition launched from a platform), or directly from land, in which case it could arguably be a platform on its own? What is the difference between a cruise missile and a long-range drone? The war in Ukraine has seen the rapid development of short-range single-use drones that behave, in some ways, like super-intelligent artillery shells; and actual shells have incorporated guidance systems, and even propulsion systems, so that they have become what are known as ‘loitering munitions’. The point here is that strength is not just measured by platforms, but by the things that can be delivered to the battlefield with them (or independently of them), and an assessment of military strength needs to include an understanding of stocks of ammunition, the ability to replenish it and to fire it at where it is needed. This brings us to the idea of networks. War has always given the advantage to the side that could bring force to bear in a coordinated fashion while itself avoiding being the target of a coordinated enemy attack. The latest iteration of this is known as ‘network-centric warfare’, which, in its ideal form, means that every participant in the battle, from planes and ships all the way down to individual soldiers and drones can observe the ‘battlespace’ and communicate information about it to the right layer of command. Using this information, commanders, assisted by artificial intelligence, can decide where ‘effect’ is to be concentrated to bring about maximum damage to the enemy, more quickly than it can cause damage. This capability is not necessarily confined to the most expensive high-tech armies. Ukraine has shown how off-the-shelf electronic components can be added to existing systems to improve them (for example, to allow its artillery to concentrate fire on a single target despite the artillery systems themselves being dispersed). Precision If in the popular imagination precision weapons are used mainly to reduce collateral damage (and this was indeed their main use during the campaigns against terrorist groups in the first two decades of this century), in high-intensity war their advantage is that they conserve resources and time. Even if an individual precision artillery shell is more expensive, it is more useful to be able to use one or two guided shells to hit a target than 30 or 40 unguided ones. Not only is less ammunition used, but fewer troops are needed to operate it, and the wear and tear on the artillery pieces is considerably less. Precision results in greater ‘effect’ from the inputs to the process. Though sometimes presented as its opposite, precision should be understood as a way of delivering ‘mass’; this concept, also from Clausewitz (1918, 98), refers to the quantity of force that can be brought to bear against an enemy at a particular time. It matters because fighting is not a continuous linear process where the amount of force one applies has an effect in proportion to its quantity—in war having more power at one place at the right time means you will win the battle and the enemy will be weaker for the next one. The slightly stronger force can often inflict damage on the weaker one in a way that is disproportionate to the difference in their strength. To take a simple example for the purposes of illustration, suppose we start with 100 tanks, and so do they. Thanks to our commander’s skill we are able to concentrate 50 of our tanks against 40 of theirs. We lose 10 tanks, they lose 35. Now we have 90 tanks, they have 65. In this example our ability to get those extra 10 tanks in the right place has given us an advantage that can be pressed further in the next battle. It is these facts that underpin the approach that NATO, and the West more broadly, has applied to fighting. Although Western democracies have been able, due to their superior economic systems and technological advantage, to outproduce their enemies, winning a war of attrition is not where they consider their advantage to come from. Instead they emphasise their speed of movement and thought, and their ability to confuse their enemies, tricking them into dividing or misdirecting their forces, and then pouncing at the right moment; this is the ‘manoeuvrist’ creed of war, in which we fight smart and overcome the enemy by more than brute force. It is important not to draw the distinction between attrition and manoeuvre too crudely. Manoeuvre warfare is easier when you have more and better kit, and your leaders are informed by better intelligence obtained through technological as well as human sources. It also takes advantage of the characteristics of free societies. Manoeuvre warfare is strengthened by ‘mission command’: the notion that subordinate officers are given the ability to decide exactly how to fulfil their orders. This gives Western militaries a flexibility that is absent from the armies of dictatorships, in which such freedom is rarely granted,5 but of course this depends on officers and soldiers being sufficiently well-trained, and possessing a good enough level of general education, to operate independently. It is the best way for us, as free and well-educated peoples, to fight—it is not necessarily the best for everyone. A manoeuvrist force, is, as the name suggests, on the move. It is constantly advancing, communicating its changing position, attempting to bypass and confuse the enemy. It operates at a high tempo in order to overwhelm the enemy mentally as well as physically, and the ability to sustain this type of fighting informs training, equipment command and intelligence: ‘the key to winning battles is to have greater forces at the key location than does the enemy. The trick is to outwit the enemy and thus out-concentrate him at the right time’ (Warden 1998, 79). This matters for learning the right lessons from Ukraine’s fight for survival. Ukraine has only been able to master some of the lessons of manoeuvrist warfare. It has been hampered by its limited capacity in the air, which slows it down and makes it hard to break Russian lines except with artillery and long-range fire (such as the famous HIMARS rockets). It is in transition from Soviet- to Western-style command. But it has also shown tremendous capacity to innovate, particularly in its use of drones to hold a defensive line. Ukraine’s tremendous first-person drone capacity allows it to stop Russian attacks while risking far fewer troops (drone operators work behind the lines, where they are at much lower risk than the men in the trenches) and even compensate for artillery.6 These principles feed into NATO’s existing doctrine (NATO 2022), which involves identifying the enemy’s centre of gravity, achieving air superiority to deliver firepower against its command and control nodes, and then overcoming its disoriented forces at speed. It relies on synthesising intelligence through networks of sensors and exploiting the information they provide to deploy massed precision against them. Such operations, however, require certain capabilities that depend on equipment and structures provided mostly by the US. The first of these is NATO’s command structure. NATO’s armies have a single command structure that conducts exercises together. At the top is the Supreme Allied Commander (American) and the Deputy Supreme Allied Commander (European). American units are integrated throughout the force structure. European forces will need to plan, exercise and be ready to fight without these American elements—it is not merely a matter of detaching them. The second is the intelligence and planning capability to carry out those war plans and adapt to the evolving battle. These integrate intelligence gathered from sensors, satellites and human sources, and artificial intelligence is increasingly involved in its processing as extremely large amounts of data must be handled quickly and secretly. As well as certain sensors (satellites and aircraft), the US’s processing software is also vital here, though Europeans have equivalent capabilities at reduced scale. Third are the sensors, software and missiles needed to suppress enemy air defences (SEAD). SEAD missions are a prerequisite for establishing air superiority against adversaries that possess sophisticated air defence systems, such as Russia. Indeed, the failure of Russia’s SEAD missions in Ukraine, and Ukraine’s ability to deter Russian aviation, may also indicate that an effective air defence is easier to mount than had been thought.7 Europe, however, currently lacks the ability to make the latest generation of anti-radiation missiles (which target enemy radar) essential to the success of SEAD. India’s poor performance against Pakistan, where it appears to have attempted to conduct deep strikes against its rival without conducting SEAD, underlines the importance of these capabilities (Economist 2025). It will take some years to develop them, and this needs to be prioritised. A full discussion of the requirements for successful SEAD against Russia can be found in Bronk and Watling (2025). Finally there is the question of Russia’s nuclear threats. Though the UK and France possess ‘strategic’ nuclear arsenals, these, because they threaten the complete destruction of the world, can only credibly deter the most extreme sort of attack. Russia and the US both have low-yield or ‘tactical’ nuclear weapons, and Russia has regularly threatened to use them. These threats would significantly complicate elements of a European campaign to deter Russia, which might involve actions such as seizing Kaliningrad or advancing from Finland towards the environs of St Petersburg. Europe needs the ability to restrict Russia to conventional weapons in such circumstances. Though such deterrence does not have to be supplied using tactical nuclear weapons of our own (Hoffmann 2021), these would be the most straightforward instrument for this purpose. As the UK’s nuclear weapons systems are submarine launched (and use American missiles), France’s arsenal would have to be expanded to provide this capability, and be able to be deployed closer to the front as, for example, Donald Tusk has hinted.8 Conclusion and recommendations Fighting without the Americans does not necessarily mean we need to replace exactly what they used to supply. Instead we need to understand the mission required, which is to deter Russia by credibly showing how Russian forces would be defeated, in the field, should Putin attempt to attack us. In an ideal world this credible threat would cause the military to remove Putin should he attempt further adventurism against Europe, but we cannot rely on such an eventuality. This means that we have to think carefully about how we would fight and sustain political support for a major European war. The good news is that provided that the bulk of Europe is willing to contribute, we have the resources and equipment needed to defeat Russia. Upgrades, in particular in SEAD capability and tactical nuclear weapons, need to be made, but they are not out of reach. In addition, we have a solid basis in military doctrine that can be used to organise a campaign that takes advantage of our military cultures and technological lead. The less good news is that the countries that can be guaranteed to make up a ‘coalition of the willing’ (the NB8 plus Poland, the UK and Ukraine) would currently struggle to mount an offensive campaign on their own. They would, in particular, struggle to field a sufficiently large air force to win air superiority over Russia, though they have enough aircraft to deny Russia air superiority of its own. This would limit their ability to put manoeuvrist doctrine into practice, and, notwithstanding advances in drone warfare pioneered by the Ukrainians, could cause them to fall back to static defence and attritional warfare, as illustrated by the proposed Baltic Defence Line. Such an approach would stretch the human resources of a coalition of the willing extremely thin. It is perhaps ironic that Europe as a whole could win a war of attrition against Russia, but it also would not have to, as it could prosecute a campaign of manoeuvre against the Russian military and Putin’s state. Accordingly my recommendations are laid out below. Europe should focus on what it needs to defeat Russia, rather than what would be required to replace the American commitment to NATO. Nevertheless, it should not, as a whole, revert to using conscript-based armies designed to fight a war of attrition against Russia. These give up the greatest advantages of technologically advanced free societies and would leave us fighting the kind of war Russia would want us to fight. Certain small front-line states might need to make different calculations. Universal military service might be required so that they can, in extremis, mount a defensive campaign—for example, if Finland and the Baltic states were required to fight on their own without support from European allies. This highly extreme scenario is sufficiently unlikely that it should not form the basis of other countries’ military planning. The core ‘coalition of the willing’—the Nordic countries, the Baltic states, plus Poland, the UK and Ukraine—could defend themselves against Russia, and with some effort would be able to conduct an offensive campaign to bring about Russian defeat. They would need, however, to make important improvements to their defence. The coalition would require an integrated command structure and a programme of exercises. The expansion of the UK-led Joint Expeditionary Force and the UK’s command headquarters would be a suitable nucleus for such capability. The coalition would face a manpower deficit compared to Russia, and matching Russian mobilised reserve levels would be a challenge. The coalition could, however, match Russian mobilisation levels with a Swedish- or Norwegian-style selective military service programme for young men and women (it could achieve sufficient coverage for defensive purposes by recruiting 16% of men and 6% of women each year). The coalition is also severely short of aircraft with which to pursue an air superiority campaign against Russia. Though it would fare better than Ukraine on its own, increasing the size of the coalition’s air forces must be a priority, and the risk of over-dependence on the F35 needs to be considered. Though ‘kill switches’ are a myth, a sovereign spare parts supply chain (as Finland is creating) and sovereign intelligence software (as used by Israel) are required to reduce the risk of US unreliability. The coalition would also need to consider replacing the F35’s intelligence and command capabilities with replacements that could operate on European aircraft, such as the Gripen or Rafale. The lack of stealth capability would also hamper the coalition’s air forces until a sixth-generation fighter could be developed. Europe as a whole has forces of the necessary scale to conduct operations against Russia. Its shortfalls in ammunition production and inefficiencies due to the diversity of its equipment have been covered elsewhere. Some inefficiency is likely to persist as long as Europe remains a relatively decentralised continent, but it is likely to be better to bear the extra cost now, than waste time with the ambitious political integration projects required to eliminate it quickly. Europe as a whole would need to develop its own command structure. At this level it may be possible to repurpose NATO’s Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE) using the Berlin Plus process, though care would need to be taken to avoid a potentially hostile US, as well as unfriendly NATO members, such as Hungary, blocking operations. As urgent as ammunition production (a category that includes missiles as well as artillery) is the manufacture of equipment to conduct SEAD campaigns. Reviving European capacity to produce anti-radiation missiles and in intelligence capability to uncover targets for them should be a matter of the highest priority. The final priority area is the expansion of Europe’s tactical nuclear capability. Though the French and British strategic arsenals can provide the ultimate deterrence against Russia, tactical, or low-yield, weapons are needed to deter Russia from threatening European forces with its tactical nuclear weapons. As the British programme is not suitable, these would have to be based on the French programme, and questions related to how this expansion would be paid for, and how tactical nuclear use would be authorised, would need to be addressed. Footnotes1. Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Estonia, Lithuania and Latvia.2. These estimates are based on Eurostat data for the EU member states, the Office for National Statistics population projections for the UK and the most recent available data for Russia, which is based on UN data not currently available but which have been reported on Wikipedia. The Russian data are from 2012, so these overestimate Russian demographic strength slightly. The military age calculation aggregates the standard five-year demographic groups between 20 and 49. Obviously a military may mobilise younger and older people as well, but the comparison remains valid.3. In this case, by taking the 10-year sample of 15–24-year-olds and dividing it by 10 to smooth out fluctuations. Again, because of declining Russian demographics (even without accounting for losses due to the war), this is likely to be an underestimate of the proportion mobilised (because the total number of 18-year-old men is lower than the statistics indicate).4. F35s are easily the most advanced fighter available, and the only one reliably able to penetrate Russian air defences before suppression of enemy air defence missions have been accomplished. The deterioration in relations with the US, however, poses questions about the ongoing reliability of the supply chain associated with them. Though ‘kill-switches’ are a myth, European countries will need to maintain their own spare parts supply and software upgrade path if they are to gain the most out of the aircraft in the long run. Finland, for example, is establishing its own sovereign spare parts supply, and Israel has a sovereign software intelligence solution on its F35s.5. An exception was the Wehrmacht, which inherited mission command from the Prussian Army; however, its generals found themselves micromanaged by Hitler, which (fortunately) affected their performance.6. These small drones are very different from those deployed in the early stages of the war such as the Bayraktar TB2 or Western drones such as the Reaper. They are much closer to ammunition than platforms, and (in good weather, at least) replace artillery or close air support.7. It could also indicate that Russian aviation is not as good as had been thought, but it would be dangerous to plan on that assumption.8. Author’s conversation with a Polish official who wished to remain anonymous.ReferencesBarker K., Smialek J., Erlanger S. (2025). Europe prepares to face Russia as Trump’s America steps back. New York Times, 24 February.Bronk J., Watling J. (2025). Rebalancing joint fires to deter Russia. Royal United Services Institute Occasional Paper. London, 15 April. https://static.rusi.org/rebalancing-european-joint-fires-to-deter-russia.pdf. Accessed 15 April 2025.Clausewitz K. von. (1918). On War. Trans. Graham J. J. (London: K. Paul Trench, Trubner & Co.)Dalaaker A. (2017). Statement by Norway on gender equality in the military – universal conscription. Organisation for Co-operation and Security in Europe. 8 March. https://www.osce.org/files/f/documents/b/9/304861.pdf. Accessed 9 April 2025.Economist. (2025). Chinese weapons gave Pakistan a new edge against India. 15 May. https://www.economist.com/asia/2025/05/15/chinese-weapons-gave-pakistan-a-new-edge-against-india. Accessed 16 May 2025.Hackett M., Nagl J. (2024). A long hard year. Russia–Ukraine war lessons learned 2023. Parameters, 54(3), 41–52.Hoffmann F. (2021). Strategic non-nuclear weapons and strategic stability – promoting trust through technical understanding. Fondation pour la recherche strategique. https://frstrategie.org/sites/default/files/documents/programmes/Programme TNP - P5/2021/202103.pdf. Accessed 9 April 2025.International Institute for Strategic Studies. (2024). The military balance. London: Routledge.Meyer zum Felde R. (2024). Kann sich Europa konventionell gegen eine militärische Bedrohung durch Russland behaupten? Sirius, 8(3), 267–83.Minfin.com.ua. (2025). Casualties of the Russian troops in Ukraine. Updated daily. https://index.minfin.com.ua/en/russian-invading/casualties/. Accessed 5 March 2025.Nagl J., Crombe K. (2024). A call to action: Lessons from Ukraine for the future force. Carlisle, PA: US Army War College Press.NATO. (2022). Allied joint doctrine. December. https://www.gov.uk/government/collections/allied-joint-publication-ajp. Accessed 9 April 2025.Tallis B. (2025). Emerging defence: Offset and competitive strategies for Europe. Democratic Strategy Initiative. https://www.democratic-strategy.net/_files/ugd/dcfff6_ca54854b6dc7499e829a5fa4d7b01b74.pdf. Accessed 16 March 2025.Warden J. (1998). The air campaign: Planning for combat. Washington, DC: National Defence University Press.Wolff G., Burlikov A. (2025). Defending Europe without the US: First estimates of what is needed. Bruegel, 21 February. https://www.bruegel.org/analysis/defending-europe-without-us-first-estimates-what-needed. Accessed 9 April 2025.

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.

Abstract We examine the roles of Gold and Bitcoin as a hedge, a safe haven, and a diversifier against the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic and the Ukraine War. Using a rolling window estimation of the dynamic conditional correlation (DCC)-based regression, we present a novel approach to examine the time-varying safe haven, hedge, and diversifier properties of Gold and Bitcoin for equities portfolios. This article uses daily returns of Gold, Bitcoin, S&P500, CAC 40, and NSE 50 from January 3, 2018, to October 15, 2022. Our results show that Gold is a better safe haven than the two, while Bitcoin exhibits weak properties as safe haven. Bitcoin can, however, be used as a diversifier and hedge. This study offers policy suggestions to investors to diversify their holdings during uncertain times. Introduction Financial markets and the diversity of financial products have risen in both volume and value, creating financial risk and establishing the demand for a safe haven for investors. The global financial markets have faced several blows in recent years. From the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) to the outbreak of the pandemic and uncertainty regarding economic policy measures of governments and central banks, the financial markets including equity markets around the world were faced with severe meltdowns. This similar behavior was observed in other markets including equity and commodity markets, resulting in overall uncertainty. In this scenario, the investors normally flock toward the safe-haven assets to protect their investment. In normal situations, investors seek to diversify or hedge their assets to protect their portfolios. However, the financial markets are negatively impacted when there are global uncertainties. Diversification and hedging methods fail to safeguard investors’ portfolios during instability because almost all sectors and assets are negatively affected (Hasan et al., 2021). As a result, investors typically look for safe-haven investments to safeguard their portfolios under extreme conditions (Ceylan, 2022). Baur and Lucey (2010) provide the following definitions of hedge, diversifier, and safe haven: Hedge: An asset that, on average, has no correlation or a negative correlation with another asset or portfolio. On average, a strict hedge has a (strictly) negative correlation with another asset or portfolio.Diversifier: An asset that, on average, has a positive correlation (but not perfect correlation) with another asset or portfolio. Safe haven: This is the asset that in times of market stress or volatility becomes uncorrelated or negatively associated with other assets or a portfolio. As was previously indicated, the significant market turbulence caused by a sharp decline in consumer spending, coupled with insufficient hedging opportunities, was a common feature of all markets during these times (Yousaf et al., 2022). Nakamoto (2008) suggested a remedy by introducing Bitcoin, a “digital currency,” as an alternative to traditional fiduciary currencies (Paule-Vianez et al., 2020). Bitcoin often described as “Digital Gold” has shown greater resilience during periods of crises and has highlighted the potential safe haven and hedging property against uncertainties (Mokni, 2021). According to Dyhrberg (2016), the GFC has eased the emergence of Bitcoin thereby strengthening its popularity. Bouri et al. (2017) in their study indicate that Bitcoin has been viewed as a shelter from global uncertainties caused by conventional banking and economic systems. Recent research has found that Bitcoin is a weak safe haven, particularly in periods of market uncertainty like the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) crisis (Conlon & McGee, 2020; Nagy & Benedek, 2021; Shahzad et al., 2019; Syuhada et al., 2022). In contrast to these findings, a study by Yan et al. (2022) indicates that it can function as a strong safe haven in favorable economic times and with low-risk aversion. Ustaoglu (2022) also supports the strong safe-haven characteristic of Bitcoin against most emerging stock market indices during the COVID-19 period. Umar et al. (2023) assert that Bitcoin and Gold are not reliable safe-havens. Singh et al. (2024) in their study reveal that Bitcoin is an effective hedge for investments in Nifty-50, Sensex, GBP–INR, and JPY–INR, at the same time a good diversifier for Gold. The study suggests that investors can incorporate Bitcoin in their portfolios as a good hedge against market volatility in equities and commodities markets. During the COVID-19 epidemic, Barbu et al. (2022) investigated if Ethereum and Bitcoin could serve as a short-term safe haven or diversifier against stock indices and bonds. The outcomes are consistent with the research conducted by Snene Manzli et al. (2024). Both act as hybrid roles for stock market returns, diversifiers for sustainable stock market indices, and safe havens for bond markets. Notably, Bhuiyan et al. (2023) found that Bitcoin provides relatively better diversification opportunities than Gold during times of crisis. To reduce risks, Bitcoin has demonstrated a strong potential to operate as a buffer against global uncertainty and may be a useful hedging tool in addition to Gold and similar assets (Baur & Lucey, 2010; Bouri et al., 2017; Capie et al., 2005; Dyhrberg, 2015). According to Huang et al. (2021), its independence from monetary policies and minimal association with conventional financial assets allow it to have a safe-haven quality. Bitcoins have a substantial speed advantage over other assets since they are traded at high and constant frequencies with no days when trading is closed (Selmi et al., 2018). Additionally, it has been demonstrated that the average monthly volatility of Bitcoin is higher than that of Gold or a group of international currencies expressed in US dollars; nevertheless, the lowest monthly volatility of Bitcoin is lower than the maximum monthly volatility of Gold and other foreign currencies (Dwyer, 2015). Leverage effects are also evident in Bitcoin returns, which show lower volatilities in high return periods and higher volatilities in low return times (Bouri et al., 2017; Liu et al., 2017). According to recent research, Bitcoins can be used to hedge S&P 500 stocks, which increases the likelihood that institutional and retail investors will build secure portfolios (Okorie, 2020). Bitcoin demonstrates strong hedging capabilities and can complement Gold in minimizing specific market risks (Baur & Lucey, 2010). Its high-frequency and continuous trading further enrich the range of available hedging tools (Dyhrberg, 2016). Moreover, Bitcoin spot and futures markets exhibit similarities to traditional financial markets. In the post-COVID-19 period, Zhang et al. (2021) found that Bitcoin futures outperform Gold futures.Gold, silver, palladium, and platinum were among the most common precious metals utilized as safe-haven investments. Gold is one such asset that is used extensively (Salisu et al., 2021). Their study tested the safe-haven property of Gold against the downside risk of portfolios during the pandemic. Empirical results have also shown that Gold functions as a safe haven for only 15 trading days, meaning that holding Gold for longer than this period would result in losses to investors. This explains why investors buy Gold on days of negative returns and sell it when market prospects turn positive and volatility decreases (Baur & Lucey, 2010). In their study, Kumar et al. (2023) tried to analyse the trends in volume throughout futures contracts and investigate the connection between open interest, volume, and price for bullion and base metal futures in India. Liu et al. (2016) in their study found that there is no negative association between Gold and the US stock market during times of extremely low or high volatility. Because of this, it is not a strong safe haven for the US stock market (Hood & Malik, 2013). Post-COVID-19, studies have provided mixed evidence on the safe-haven properties of Gold (Bouri et al., 2020; Cheema et al., 2022; Ji et al., 2020). According to Kumar and Padakandla (2022), Gold continuously demonstrates safe-haven qualities for all markets, except the NSE, both in the short and long term. During the COVID-19 episode, Gold’s effectiveness as a hedge and safe-haven instrument has been impacted (Akhtaruzzaman et al., 2021). Al-Nassar (2024) conducted a study on the hedge effectiveness of Gold and found that it is a strong hedge in the long run. Bhattacharjee et al. (2023) in their paper examined the symmetrical and asymmetrical linkage between Gold price levels and the Indian stock market returns by employing linear autoregressive distributed lag and nonlinear autoregressive distributed lag models. The results exhibit that the Indian stock market returns and Gold prices are cointegrated. According to the most recent study by Kaczmarek et al. (2022), Gold has no potential as a safe haven, despite some studies on the COVID-19 pandemic showing contradictory results. The co-movements of Bitcoin and the Chinese stock market have also normalized as a result of this epidemic (Belhassine & Karamti, 2021). Widjaja and Havidz (2023) verified that Gold was a safe haven asset during the COVID-19 pandemic, confirming the Gold’s safe-haven characteristic. As previously pointed out, investors value safe-haven investments in times of risk. Investors panic at these times when asset prices fall and move from less liquid (risky) securities to more liquid (safe) ones, such as cash, Gold, and government bonds. An asset must be bought and sold rapidly, at a known price, and for a reasonably modest cost to be considered truly safe (Smales, 2019). Therefore, we need to properly re-examine the safe-haven qualities of Gold and Bitcoin due to the mixed evidences regarding their safe-haven qualities and the impact of COVID-19 and the war in Ukraine on financial markets. This work contributes to and deviates from the body of existing literature in the following ways. We propose a novel approach in this work to evaluate an asset’s time-varying safe haven, hedge, and diversifier characteristics. This research examines the safe haven, hedging, and diversifying qualities of Gold and Bitcoin against the equity indices; S&P 500, CAC 40, and NSE 50. Through the use of rolling window estimation, we extend the methodology of Ratner and Chiu (2013) by estimating the aforementioned properties of the assets. Comparing rolling window estimation to other conventional techniques, the former will provide a more accurate representation of an asset’s time-varying feature. This study explores the conventional asset Gold’s time-varying safe haven, hedging, and diversifying qualities during crises like the COVID-19 pandemic and the conflict in Ukraine. We use Bitcoin, an unconventional safe-haven asset, for comparison. Data and Methodology We use the daily returns of three major equity indices; S&P500, CAC 40, and NSE 50 from January 3, 2018, to October 15, 2022. The equity indices were selected to represent three large and diverse markets namely the United States, France, and India in terms of geography and economic development. We assess safe-haven assets using the daily returns of Gold and Bitcoin over the same time. Equity data was collected from Yahoo Finance, Bitcoin data from coinmarketcap.com, and Gold data from the World Gold Council website. Engle (2002) developed the DCC (Dynamic Conditional Correlation)-GARCH model, which is frequently used to assess contagion amid pandemic uncertainty or crises. Time-varying variations in the conditional correlation of asset pairings can be captured using the DCC-GARCH model. Through employing this model, we can analyse the dynamic behavior of volatility spillovers. Engle’s (2002) DCC-GARCH model contains two phases; 1. Univariate GARCH model estimation2. Estimation of time-varying conditional correlation. For its explanation, mathematical characteristics, and theoretical development, see here [insert the next link in “the word here” https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/09711023251322578] Results and Discussion The outcomes of the parameters under the DCC-GARCH model for each of the asset pairs selected for the investigation are shown in Table 1.   First, we look at the dynamical conditional correlation coefficient, ρ.The rho value is negative and insignificant for NSE 50/Gold, NSE 50 /BTC, S&P500/Gold, and S&P500/BTC indicating a negative and insignificant correlation between these asset pairs, showing Gold and Bitcoin as potential hedges and safe havens. The fact that ρ is negative and significant for CAC 40/Gold suggests that Gold can be a safe haven against CAC 40 swings. The asset pair CAC/BTC, on the other hand, has possible diversifier behavior with ρ being positive but statistically insignificant. Next, we examine the behavior of the DCC-GARCH parameters; α and β. We find that αDCC is statistically insignificant for all the asset pairs, while βDCC is statistically significant for all asset pairs. βDCC quantifies the persistence feature of the correlation and the extent of the impact of volatility spillover in a particular market’s volatility dynamics. A higher βDCC value implies that a major part of the volatility dynamics can be explained by the respective market’s own past volatility. For instance, the NSE 50/Gold’s βDCC value of 0.971 shows that there is a high degree of volatility spillover between these two assets, with about 97% of market volatility being explained by the assets’ own historical values and the remainder coming from spillover. Thus, we see that the volatility spillover is highly persistent (~0.8) for all the asset pairs except NSE 50/BTC. The results above show that the nature of the dynamic correlation between the stock markets, Bitcoin and Gold is largely negative, pointing toward the possibility of Gold and Bitcoin being hedge/safe haven. However, a detailed analysis is needed to confirm the same by employing rolling window analysis, and we present the results in the forthcoming section. We present the rolling window results for S&P500 first. We present the regression results for Gold in Figure 1 and Bitcoin in Figure 2   Figure 1. Rolling Window Regression Results for S&P500 and Gold.Note: Areas shaded under factor 1 represent significant regression coefficients. In Figure 1, we examine the behavior of β0 (intercept term), β1, β2, and β3 (partial correlation coefficients). The intercept term β0 will give an idea about whether the asset is behaving as a diversifier or hedge. Here, the intercept term shows significance most of the time. However, during 2018, the intercept was negative and significant, showing that it could serve as a hedge during geopolitical tensions and volatilities in the global stock market. However, during the early stages of COVID-19, we show that the intercept is negative and showing statistical significance, suggesting that Gold could serve as a hedge during the initial shocks of the pandemic. These findings are contrary to the results in the study by Tarchella et al. (2024) where they found hold as a good diversifier. Later, we find the intercept to be positive and significant, indicating that Gold could act as a potential diversifier. But during the Russia-Ukraine War, Gold exhibited hedge ability again. Looking into the behavior of β1, which is the partial correlation coefficient for the tenth percentile of return distribution shows negative and insignificant during 2018. Later, it was again negative and significant during the initial phases of COVID-19, and then negative in the aftermath, indicating that Gold could act as a weak safe haven during the COVID-19 pandemic. Gold could serve as a strong safe haven for the SP500 against volatility in the markets brought on by the war in Ukraine, as we see the coefficient to be negative and large during this time. From β2 and β3, the partial correlation coefficients of the fifth and first percentile, respectively, show that Gold possesses weak safe haven properties during COVID-19 and strong safe haven behavior during the Ukraine crisis. Next, we examine the characteristics of Bitcoin as a hedge/diversifier/safe haven against the S&P500 returns. We present the results in Figure 2.   Figure 2. Rolling Window Regression Results for S&P500 and Bitcoin.Note: Areas shaded under factor 1 represent significant regression coefficients. Like in the previous case, we begin by analysing the behavior of the intercept coefficient, which is β0. As mentioned earlier the intercept term will give a clear picture of the asset’s hedging and diversifier property. In the period 2018–2019, the intercept term is positive but insignificant. This could be due to the large volatility in Bitcoin price movements during the period. It continues to be minimal (but positive) and insignificant during 2019–2020, indicating toward weak diversification possibility. Post-COVID-19 period, the coefficient shows the significance and positive value, displaying the diversification potential. We see that the coefficient remains positive throughout the analysis, confirming Bitcoin’s potential as a diversifier. Looking into the behavior of β1 (the partial correlation coefficient at tenth percentile), it is positive but insignificant during 2018. The coefficient is having negative sign and showing statistical significance in 2019, suggesting that Bitcoin could be a good safe haven in that year. This year was characterized by a long list of corporate scandals, uncertainties around Brexit, and tensions in global trade. We can observe that throughout the COVID-19 period, the coefficient is showing negative sign and negligible during the March 2020 market meltdown, suggesting inadequate safe-haven qualities. However, Bitcoin will regain its safe-haven property in the coming periods, as the coefficient is negative and significant in the coming months. The coefficient is negative and shows statistical significance during the Ukrainian crisis, suggesting strong safe-haven property. Only during the Ukrainian crisis could Bitcoin serve as a safe haven, according to the behavior of β2, which displays the partial correlation coefficient at the fifth percentile. Bitcoin was a weak safe haven during COVID-19 and the Ukrainian crisis, according to β3, the partial correlation coefficient for the first percentile (coefficient negative and insignificant). According to the overall findings, Gold is a stronger safe haven against the S&P 500’s swings. This result is consistent with the previous studies of Triki and Maatoug (2021), Shakil et al. (2018), Będowska-Sójka and Kliber (2021), Drake (2022), and Ghazali et al. (2020), etc. The same analysis was conducted for the CAC 40 and the NSE 50; the full analysis can be found here [insert the next link in “the word here” https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/09711023251322578]. However, it is important to highlight the respective results: In general, we may say that Gold has weak safe-haven properties considering CAC40. We can conclude that Bitcoin’s safe-haven qualities for CAC40 are weak. We can say that Gold showed weak safe-haven characteristics during the Ukraine crisis and good safe-haven characteristics for the NSE50 during COVID-19. We may say that Bitcoin exhibits weak safe haven, but strong hedging abilities to NSE50. Concluding Remarks In this study, we suggested a new method to evaluate an asset’s time-varying hedge, diversifier, and safe-haven characteristics. We propose a rolling window estimation of the DCC-based regression of Ratner and Chiu (2013). Based on this, we estimate the conventional asset’s time-varying safe haven, hedging, and diversifying properties during crises like the COVID-19 pandemic and the conflict in Ukraine. For comparison purposes, we include Bitcoin, a nonconventional safe-haven asset. We evaluate Gold and Bitcoin’s safe haven, hedging, and diversifier properties to the S&P 500, CAC 40, and NSE 50 variations. We use a rolling window of length 60 to estimate the regression. From the results, we find that Gold can be considered as a better safe haven against the fluctuations of the S&P 500. In the case of CAC 40, Gold and Bitcoin have weak safe-haven properties. While Bitcoin demonstrated strong safe-haven characteristics during the Ukraine crisis, Gold exhibited strong safe-haven characteristics during COVID-19 for the NSE 50. Overall, the findings indicate that Gold is the better safe haven. This outcome is consistent with earlier research (Będowska-Sójka & Kliber, 2021; Drake, 2022; Ghazali et al., 2020; Shakil et al., 2018; Triki & Maatoug, 2021). When it comes to Bitcoin, its safe-haven feature is weak. Bitcoin, however, works well as a diversifier and hedge. Therefore, from a policy perspective, investing in safe-haven instruments is crucial to lower the risks associated with asset ownership. Policymakers aiming to enhance the stability of financial portfolios might encourage institutional investors and other market players to incorporate Gold into their asset allocations. Gold’s strong safe-haven qualities, proven across various market conditions, make it a reliable choice. Gold’s performance during crises like COVID-19 highlights its potential to mitigate systemic risks effectively. Further, Bitcoin could also play a complementary role as a hedge and diversifier, especially during periods of significant volatility such as the Ukraine crisis. While Bitcoin’s safe-haven characteristics are relatively weaker, its inclusion in a diversified portfolio offers notable value and hence it should not be overlooked. Further, policymakers may consider how crucial it is to monitor dynamic correlations and periodically rebalance portfolios to account for shifts in the safe haven and hedging characteristics of certain assets. Such measures could help reduce the risks of over-reliance on a single asset type and create more resilient portfolios that can better withstand global economic shocks. For future research, studies can be conducted on the estimation of the rolling window with different widths. This is important to understand how the safe-haven property changes across different holding periods. Further, more equity markets would be included to account for the differences in market capitalization and index constituents. This study can be extended by testing these properties for multi-asset portfolios as well. We intend to take up this study in these directions in the future. Data Availability StatementNot applicable.Declaration of Conflicting InterestsThe authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.ReferencesAkhtaruzzaman M., Boubaker S., Lucey B. M., & Sensoy A. (2021). Is gold a hedge or a safe-haven asset in the COVID-19 crisis? Economic Modelling, 102, 105588. Crossref. Web of Science.Al-Nassar N. S. (2024). Can gold hedge against inflation in the UAE? A nonlinear ARDL analysis in the presence of structural breaks. PSU Research Review, 8(1), 151–166. Crossref.Barbu T. C., Boitan I. A., & Cepoi C. O. (2022). Are cryptocurrencies safe havens during the COVID-19 pandemic? A threshold regression perspective with pandemic-related benchmarks. Economics and Business Review, 8(2), 29–49. 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Abstract This analysis examines Ukraine’s integration into European defence cooperation through the SAFE fund, highlighting its unique status as a semi-integrated security partner (SISP) despite not being an EU member. Ukraine’s pursuit of NATO and EU membership is driven by security concerns, economic benefits, and cultural alignment with Europe, particularly in response to Russian aggression since 2014. NATO membership promises collective defence under Article 5, enhanced military capabilities, and political reforms, while EU accession offers economic integration, governance improvements, and strengthened defence capacities. Russia opposes Ukraine’s NATO aspirations due to security fears and the potential democratic contagion threatening its regime. Still, it is more accepting of Ukraine’s EU membership, viewing it as an economic rather than a military alliance. Historical assurances to the USSR against NATO expansion eastward fueled Russia’s objections. Ukraine’s integration into European structures symbolises a break from Russian influence but poses challenges of escalation and geopolitical tension. The SAFE fund’s inclusion of Ukraine reflects the evolving boundaries of EU defence cooperation amid the ongoing conflict. Key Words: SAFE, EU, Ukraine, Russia, Security Introduction In the first article on SAFE[EE1] , published once again in the World & New World Journal, the analysis concluded on a somewhat skeptical note: “It appears that despite some initial intentions to end the Ukrainian war as early as April 2022, it is the European elites, especially French, German and Polish, who stand for the prolongation, if not escalation, of the Ukrainian war, potentially at the expense of the security of the whole European continent and definitely at the expense of Ukrainians and their country”.[1] Moreover, the author, adopting a critical perspective, raised some questions about the consequences of the ongoing war. Firstly, the longer the war continues, the more destroyed Ukraine becomes and the greater the number of Ukrainians killed. Secondly, the longer the war continues, the greater the likelihood of escalation, which poses a threat to the entire European continent. Thirdly, despite mainstream media reports, the Russian Federation appears to have adapted to operating effectively despite the sanctions, which may strengthen its economy in the short to medium term and, more importantly, bring it closer to cooperating with China and North Korea. Finally, since every war serves as a testing ground for new technologies, the Russians, especially the North Koreans and the Chinese, are gaining invaluable insight into the nature of modern warfare, which is often referred to as the next Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA).The inclusion of Ukraine in the SAFE fund, despite its non-EU status, suggests a functional military alliance. This analysis will, therefore, explore how such an alliance redefines the line between EU and non-EU defence cooperation, specifically in the context of Ukraine as a semi-integrated security partner (SISP), and how this semi-integration is likely to influence Russia’s threat perception.  European Aspirations of Ukraine  Source: https://www.freeworldmaps.net/europe/political.html Ukraine’s pursuit of NATO and EU membership reflects a complex approach driven by security, economic, political, and cultural imperatives, particularly in the context of its ongoing conflict with Russia and its aspiration for a stable and prosperous future. Ukraine’s engagement with NATO began in the early 1990s, with formal steps toward membership marked by the 2008 Bucharest Summit, which decided that Ukraine would become a member.[2] This commitment was reaffirmed at the 2024 Washington Summit, emphasising Ukraine’s “irreversible path” to NATO integration. For the EU, Ukraine applied for membership on February 28, 2022, shortly after Russia’s full-scale invasion, highlighting the urgency driven by security concerns.[3]  The EU granted candidate status in June 2022, and accession negotiations opened in December 2023, reflecting strong political support. The primary rationale for NATO membership is security, particularly in response to Russia’s actions since 2014, including the annexation of Crimea and the 2022 invasion. Ukraine views NATO’s collective defence mechanism, especially Article 5, as a credible deterrent to further aggression. NATO has provided significant support, including EUR 50 billion in 2024, with nearly 60% of the funding coming from European Allies and Canada. The alliance has also established NATO Security Assistance and Training for Ukraine (NSATU) at the 2024 Washington Summit.[4] EU membership, although not primarily a military-focused endeavour, enhances political stability by reducing vulnerability to external threats through economic and diplomatic ties. Recent developments in June 2025, such as NATO Defence Ministers agreeing on new capability targets and statements from Baltic states calling for concrete steps at the upcoming 2025 NATO Summit in The Hague, underscore ongoing international backing.[5] However, challenges remain, with some ambiguity about explicit mentions in NATO communiques and concerns over U.S. political shifts, as noted by Estonian President Alar Karis on June 9, 2025.[6] EU membership is central to Ukraine’s economic aspirations, offering access to the European single market, financial aid, and investment crucial for post-war reconstruction. The EU has provided over €108 billion in financial, humanitarian, and military assistance since the war began, with the Ukraine Facility offering up to €50 billion from 2024 to 2027 for recovery and reforms.[7]  This support aligns with Ukraine’s goal of modernising its economy and institutions, including democratic governance and anti-corruption measures, as outlined in the EU’s 2022 Opinion and subsequent reports. NATO membership, while primarily security-focused, also implies a political alignment with Western democratic values, complementing European Union integration. Ukraine’s progress in aligning with NATO standards, as demonstrated by the removal of the need for a Membership Action Plan (MAP) at the 2023 Vilnius Summit, reflects its commitment to reforms that enhance both security and political stability.[8] Ukraine frames its European aspirations as a return to its historical and cultural roots, emphasising shared democratic values, human rights, and a rejection of Russian influence. This narrative is reflected in strong public support, with polls showing over 80% favouring NATO membership and 85-90% supporting EU membership.[9] The 2014 Euromaidan protests, sparked by the rejection of an EU Association Agreement and Russia’s subsequent actions, have solidified this national consensus. Constitutional amendments in 2019 formalised NATO and EU membership as strategic objectives, underscoring cultural alignment with Europe. To sum up, both NATO and EU memberships, according to Ukrainian society, represent a definitive break from Russia’s sphere of influence, ensuring long-term independence and countering Russian attempts to control post-Soviet states. This geopolitical strategy is evident in Ukraine’s legislative commitments, such as the 2017 parliamentary decision making NATO membership a strategic objective and the 2022 reiteration of membership requests following Russia’s illegal annexations.  Recent EU-NATO cooperation, highlighted in a May 28, 2025, meeting focusing on Ukraine, reinforces this alignment and highlights international solidarity.[10] Russian views on Ukraine’s NATO and EU membership Russia's objections to Ukraine joining NATO are driven by security, geopolitical, and ideological fears, with a particular emphasis on military alliances and democratic contagion. In contrast, Russia accepts Ukraine's EU membership, viewing it as an economic union with fewer security implications. Russia views NATO's eastward expansion as a direct threat to its national security. The potential inclusion of Ukraine would bring NATO's military infrastructure, including troops and missile defence systems, closer to Russian borders. This is seen as a violation of Russia's perceived security interests, especially given NATO's history of collective defence under Article 5. For instance, NATO's response to Russia's 2014 annexation of Crimea and the 2022 full-scale invasion has intensified cooperation with Ukraine, further heightening tensions. [11] Ukraine's historical ties to Russia, rooted in shared Soviet and imperial pasts, make its potential NATO membership a significant loss for Russia's sphere of influence. The shift toward Western alignment is perceived as a strategic defeat, as it reduces Russia's ability to exert influence in Eastern Europe. This is evident in Russia's actions, such as the annexation of Crimea and support for separatists in Donbas, which are seen as responses to Ukraine's NATO aspirations.[12] Russia specifically objects to the military aspects of NATO membership, fearing the deployment of foreign troops or advanced military systems near its borders. This concern is highlighted in statements from Kremlin officials, such as Dmitry Peskov, Press Secretary of the President of the Russian Federation, who have emphasised that military alliances pose a different threat compared to economic unions. [13] Western experts often claim that Russia's real objection is the democratic implications of Ukraine's alignment with the West. A successful, democratic Ukraine could serve as a model for democratic movements within Russia, challenging the authoritarian stability of Putin's regime. This fear is evident in Russia's reactions to democratic breakthroughs, such as the Orange Revolution (2004) and EuroMaidan (2013–14), which were met with military actions like annexing Crimea and supporting separatist conflicts in Donbas, resulting in over 14,000 deaths over eight years.[14] NATO Expansion: What Gorbachev Heard Russia often cites the alleged promise made during the fall of the Soviet Union that NATO would not expand eastward. This grievance is part of Russia's broader narrative of being encircled by Western institutions, fueling its opposition to Ukraine's NATO aspirations.  According to recently publicised documents, Western leaders gave Mikhail Gorbachev multiple assurances throughout 1990 and into 1991 that NATO would not expand eastward, particularly in the context of German unification and the broader European security architecture.[15] James Baker, U.S. Secretary of State, repeatedly assured Gorbachev in February 1990 that if Germany were to unify and remain in NATO, NATO's jurisdiction would not extend "one inch eastward" beyond its current position. Baker presented Gorbachev with a choice between a united Germany outside NATO or a united Germany in NATO with guarantees against eastward expansion. Gorbachev stated that any expansion of NATO would be unacceptable. West German Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher publicly stated in January 1990 that NATO should rule out expansion eastward and proposed a special status for the former East German territory within NATO. This "Tutzing formula" became the basis of diplomatic discussions with Gorbachev, where the idea of no eastward expansion applied not only to East Germany but also to other Eastern European countries. British Foreign Minister Douglas Hurd and Prime Minister John Major also conveyed to Gorbachev and other Soviet officials that NATO expansion was not being considered and that there was no plan to include Eastern European countries in NATO at that time. Major personally assured Gorbachev in March 1991 that strengthening or expansion of NATO was not planned. French President François Mitterrand expressed support for gradually dismantling military blocs and emphasised the need to create security conditions favourable to the Soviet Union. He promised to detail guarantees to Gorbachev regarding his country's security. Margaret Thatcher emphasised the transformation of NATO into a less militarily threatening alliance and the role of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE) as an inclusive forum that would incorporate the Soviet Union into discussions about Europe's future security. She stressed the importance of giving the Soviet Union confidence that its security would be assured. NATO Secretary General Manfred Woerner told a Russian delegation in 1991 that the NATO Council and most member states were against NATO expansion and that isolating the USSR from the European community should be avoided. President George H.W. Bush assured Gorbachev on several occasions, including at the Malta summit in 1989 and the Washington summit in 1990, that the U.S. sought no unilateral advantage and that German unification within NATO would not be directed against the Soviet Union. He emphasised the significance of the CSCE process and the transformation of NATO in response to Soviet security concerns. Overall, these assurances created a "cascade" of promises emphasising that NATO would not expand eastward and that Soviet security interests would be respected as part of a new European security architecture. Gorbachev agreed to German unification in NATO based on these assurances and his belief in the potential for a "common European home" that would include the USSR. However, these assurances were mainly given in verbal form or memos rather than formal treaties, and subsequent NATO expansion in the late 1990s led to later Soviet and Russian complaints about being misled. In summary, the significance of these promises lies in their role in enabling German unification within NATO, shaping Soviet expectations of post-Cold War security, influencing European security architecture, and later contributing to disputes over NATO enlargement and Russia's perception of being misled by the West. EU Membership: A More Accepting Stance In contrast, Russia's stance on Ukraine's potential membership in the EU is markedly different. Official statements, such as those from Vladimir Putin, indicate that Russia has "nothing against" Ukraine joining the EU, viewing it as an economic union rather than a military alliance.  This acceptance is likely due to the EU's focus on economic integration, which does not pose the same security threat as NATO's military framework.[16] Dmitry Peskov's comments reinforce this distinction, noting that Russia "won't dictate" its approach to EU membership but has a different approach to military alliances. This reflects Russia's willingness to engage in economic partnerships while opposing military alliances. While Russia accepts EU membership, it remains wary of the broader implications, such as increased Western influence and potential democratic reforms in Ukraine. However, these concerns are secondary to its objections to NATO, as the EU does not involve military commitments. Public opinion in Ukraine, as noted in sociological surveys, shows strong support for NATO membership, with 64% in favour in January 2022, particularly in western Ukraine and Kyiv. This contrasts with Russia's position, highlighting the geopolitical divide. Additionally, former European Commission President Jean-Claude Juncker has cautioned against Ukraine joining NATO, suggesting that internal debates within the West may align with Russia's narrative that NATO expansion is premature. Ukraine - de facto NATO and EU member? – opportunities and challenges NATO Experts claim that Ukraine's membership in NATO would likely provide a strong security guarantee under Article 5, deterring Russian aggression by ensuring collective defence. This means that an attack on Ukraine would be treated as an attack on all NATO members, including major powers such as the United States and the United Kingdom. This could potentially stabilise the region, reducing the risk of further conflict.[17] Ukraine's large and experienced military, with significant combat expertise, would also strengthen NATO's overall defence capabilities, particularly in modern warfare, such as drone and cyber operations. Membership in NATO would likely enhance Ukraine's military capabilities through the organisation's training programs and exercises, thereby improving interoperability with allied forces. Programs like the NATO Security Assistance and Training for Ukraine (NSATU), established in 2024, coordinate equipment and training with hubs in Eastern Europe. This would align Ukraine's forces with NATO standards, enhancing operational effectiveness, as demonstrated by past contributions to NATO-led missions in Bosnia and Kosovo.[18] It seems likely that NATO membership would attract more foreign investment, especially in defence, with Western companies already coproducing munitions in Ukraine. Financial support, such as the €40 billion pledged in 2024, would aid reconstruction and economic recovery, as outlined in the NATO Pledge of Long-Term Security Assistance. Politically, it could drive reforms in governance and anti-corruption, with strong public support (75% in favour) ensuring commitment.[19] Finally, policy-makers in the West also hope that Ukraine’s NATO membership could curb or even end Russian imperial ambitions, sending a clear message that the subjugation of Ukraine is futile. However, it could also escalate tensions with Russia. “While there is widespread recognition that the outcome of Russia’s war in Ukraine will shape the future of international relations, […] the alliance appears to be deeply divided on the issue. Objections centre around the potential for a further dangerous escalation in the current confrontation with the Kremlin. Opponents argue that by inviting Ukraine to join, NATO could soon find itself at war with Russia. Meanwhile, many supporters of Ukrainian NATO membership believe keeping the country in geopolitical limbo is a mistake that only serves to embolden Moscow and prolong the war”. [20] The EU The alleged opportunities resulting from Ukraine’s already de facto EU membership are numerous. According to experts, Ukraine's potential EU membership would likely enhance economic integration by granting access to the EU's single market, facilitating the free movement of goods, services, capital, and people. This could increase Ukraine's trade by 40% to 140% between 2030 and 2040, compared to the 2010-2019 averages, driven by foreign direct investment (FDI) and governance reforms.[21] The Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Area (DCFTA), which has been in force since 2017, would be further strengthened, thereby boosting economic ties with the EU.[22] The EU-Ukraine agreement improves the competitiveness of European businesses in the Ukrainian market and vice versa. Overall, for trade in goods, the agreement eliminated the majority of tariffs – 98.1% for the EU and 99.1% for Ukraine. For example, import duties on most agricultural goods imported into the EU were reduced to zero in 2016. Tariff rate quotas apply to the remaining farming goods that are not liberalised. The management of these quotas is done either on a first-come, first-served basis or via import licences. It seems likely that EU accession would drive reforms in governance, rule of law, and anti-corruption measures. Currently, Ukraine ranks poorly in governance metrics, performing worse than Russia and Belarus; however, EU conditionality could help elevate it to a well-governed state.  With 78% of Ukrainians supporting EU entry, there is strong public backing for these reforms.[23] Ukraine's membership is also likely to enhance EU security and defence capabilities. Ukraine's rapidly growing defence industry, including investments like Baykar's $100 million for drone production and a joint venture with Rheinmetall for artillery shells, would bolster the EU's defence ecosystem.[24]  With one of Europe's largest standing armies (around 1 million personnel) experienced in modern warfare, Ukraine could contribute valuable expertise.  The establishment of an EU Defence Innovation office in Kyiv further supports Ukraine's integration into European defence programs. There may be additional benefits in energy security, with Ukraine exporting low-carbon electricity and hydrogen to the EU, and technological advancements, particularly in drone and cyber capabilities, positioning Ukraine as a leader in tech R&D. Labour migration could help alleviate EU labour shortages, with projections of 3-6 million additional Ukrainian immigrants by 2029-2050. Conclusion In conclusion, Ukraine’s integration into European defence cooperation, particularly through NATO and the EU, represents a strategic shift that may strengthen European security and counter Russian influence. NATO membership offers Ukraine vital collective defence guarantees, enhances military capabilities, and could deter further Russian aggression, though it risks escalating tensions.  EU membership promises significant economic benefits, governance reforms, and deeper political alignment with Europe. Russia’s opposition centres mainly on NATO’s military threat, while it shows more acceptance of EU economic ties. Overall, Ukraine’s semi-integrated status in European defence frameworks exemplifies evolving security dynamics with profound implications for the regional security complex in Europe. References [1]  Sliwinski, K. (2025, July 7). Can SAFE make Europe safe? From civilian to military power Europe. World & New World Journal. https://worldandnewworld.com/safe-europe-military-power-3/[2] Relations with Ukraine. (2025, March 11). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_37750.htm[3] Ukraine. European Commission. https://enlargement.ec.europa.eu/european-neighbourhood-policy/countries-region/ukraine_en[4]  Relations with Ukraine. (2025, March 11). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_37750.htm[5] NATO Defence Ministers agree new capability targets to strengthen the Alliance. (2025, June 5). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/news_235900.htm[6] Estonian president: Ukraine’s NATO membership still possible despite Trump. (2025, June 9). European Pravda. https://www.eurointegration.com.ua/eng/news/2025/06/9/7213345/[7] Ukraine. European Commission. https://enlargement.ec.europa.eu/european-neighbourhood-policy/countries-region/ukraine_en [8] Vilnius Summit Communiqué. (2023, July 11). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/official_texts_217320.htm[9] Imagine that a referendum on Ukraine’s accession to the European Union (EU) is currently taking place. How would you vote? (2024, October 8). Statista. Https://Www.Statista.Com/Statistics/1284801/Ukraine-Opinion-on-Eu-Accession/. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/official_texts_217320.htm Also: Are you for or against Ukraine joining the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)? (2025, January 6). Statista. https://www.statista.com/statistics/1294468/public-opinion-on-ukraine-joining-nato/[10] NATO and the European Union unite for Ukraine at a NAC - PSC meeting. (2025, May 28). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/news_235693.htm[11] NATO’s response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. (2025, February 17). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_192648.htm[12] Person, R., & McFaul, M. (2022). What Putin Fears Most. Journal of Democracy, 33(2), 18–27. https://www.journalofdemocracy.org/articles/what-putin-fears-most/[13] Körömi, C. (2025, February 18). Russia: Ukraine has a ‘sovereign right’ to join EU — but not NATO. POLITICO. https://www.politico.eu/article/dmitrt-peskov-kremlin-ukraine-sovereign-right-join-eu-not-nato/[14] Person, R., & McFaul, M. (2022). What Putin Fears Most. Journal of Democracy, 33(2), 18–27. https://www.journalofdemocracy.org/articles/what-putin-fears-most/[15] National Security Archive. (2017, December 12). NATO expansion: What Gorbachev heard. The George Washington University. https://nsarchive.gwu.edu/briefing-book/russia-programs/2017-12-12/nato-expansion-what-gorbachev-heard-western-leaders-early[16] Putin says Russia has “nothing against” Ukraine joining EU. (2022, June 17). REUTERS. https://www.reuters.com/article/world/putin-says-russia-has-nothing-against-ukraine-joining-eu-idUSKBN2NY0NK/[17]  Relations with Ukraine. (2025, March 11). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_37750.htm[18] Sendak, C., & Timtchenko, I. (2025, January 16). Between Now and NATO: A Security Strategy for Ukraine. Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA). https://cepa.org/comprehensive-reports/between-now-and-nato-a-security-strategy-for-ukraine/[19] Relations with Ukraine. (2025, March 11). North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_37750.htm  [20] Grod, P. (2024, July 11). Five reasons why Ukraine should be invited to join NATO. North Atlantic Treaty Organization. https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/blogs/ukrainealert/five-reasons-why-ukraine-should-be-invited-to-join-nato/[21] Darvas, Z., Dabrowski, M., Grabbe, H., Léry, L., Moffat, A., Sapir, G., & Zachmann, G. (2024, March 7). 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Note: some parts of the article have been excluded, if you want to go deep in the article please check  https://doi.org/10.1177/01445987251314504 for the complete version. Abstract Nuclear power plays a pivotal role in sustainable electricity generation and global net zero emissions, contributing significantly to this secure pathway. Nuclear power capacity is expected to double, escalating from 413 gigawatts (GW) in early 2022 to 812 GW by 2050 within the net zero emissions (NZE) paradigm. The global energy landscape is undergoing significant transformation as nations strive to transition to more sustainable energy systems. Amidst this shift, nuclear power has emerged as a crucial component in the pursuit of a sustainable energy transition. This study examines nuclear power's multifaceted role in shaping sustainable energy transition. It delves into nuclear energy's contributions toward decarbonization efforts, highlighting its capacity to provide low-carbon electricity and its potential role in mitigating climate change. Furthermore, the study explores the challenges and opportunities associated with integrating nuclear power into energy transition strategies, addressing issues such as safety, waste management, and public perception. In conclusion, the global nuclear power capacity is anticipated to reach approximately 530 GW by 2050, representing a substantial shortfall of 35% compared with the trajectory outlined in the NZE pathway. Under the NZE scenario, nuclear power demonstrates exceptional expansion, nearly doubling from 413 GW in early 2022 to 812 GW by 2050. Concurrently, the trajectory highlights a transformative shift in renewable energy investments, with annual expenditures surging from an average of US$325 billion during 2016–2020 to an impressive US$1.3 trillion between 2031 and 2035. These projections underscore the critical role of nuclear and renewable energy investments in achieving global sustainability and emission reduction goals. Introduction Global warming and greenhouse gas emissions pose some of the most pressing challenges of the 21st century. The combustion of fossil fuels for electricity generation is a major contributor to these issues, releasing billions of tons of carbon dioxide (CO2) into the atmosphere annually (Abbasi et al., 2020; Nassar et al., 2024; Rekik and El Alimi, 2024a). In this context, nuclear energy emerges as a critical component of the solution. Unlike fossil fuels, nuclear power generates electricity with minimal greenhouse gas emissions, offering a reliable and scalable alternative to bridge the gap between energy demand and decarbonization goals. It operates independently of weather conditions, providing consistent energy output and complementing the intermittency of renewable sources like wind and solar (Rekik and El Alimi, 2024b, 2024c). Furthermore, advancements in nuclear technologies, including small modular reactors (SMRs) and generation IV reactors, have addressed historical concerns related to safety, waste management, and cost-effectiveness (Lau and Tsai, 2023). In 2022, global investment in low-emission fuels will maintain a robust growth trajectory, reaching a sum of US$13 billion. A significant portion of this investment was allocated toward liquid biofuels, totaling US$9.4 billion, and biogas, amounting to US$2.7 billion. It is important to emphasize that liquid biofuels constituted approximately 80% of the overall investment surge observed in 2022, with investments in biogas contributing 4% of the total. The residual portion of the investment was directed toward low-emission hydrogen production, which attained a sum of US$1.2 billion in 2022, representing an almost fourfold increase compared to the figures recorded in 2021 (Khaleel et al., 2024).Nuclear power is a pivotal component of low-carbon energy, which significantly contributes to the realization of a low-carbon economy and establishment of a green energy grid (Arvanitidis et al., 2023; El Hafdaoui et al., 2024; Fragkos et al., 2021). According to current data, 442 nuclear power reactors are operational worldwide, collectively generating 393 gigawatts (GW) of electricity, thereby furnishing a consistent and dependable source of low-carbon power (Mathew, 2022). Nuclear electricity constitutes approximately 11% of the total global electricity generation, representing a substantial portion of the global low-carbon electricity production (Alam et al., 2019). Recent advancements have enhanced the affordability and appeal of nuclear power as an alternative source of energy. These advancements encompass progress in large reactor technologies, the emergence of novel approaches such as advanced fuel utilization and SMRs, engineering breakthroughs facilitating the extension of operational lifespans for existing reactors, and innovations in materials science and improved waste management practices (Kröger et al., 2020; Zhan et al., 2021). Fast breeder reactor technology has transitioned into a commercial realm, offering benefits beyond electricity generation by enabling the production of surplus fuel and enhancing the efficiency of nuclear waste incineration, surpassing the capabilities of existing commercial reactor technologies (Lau and Tsai, 2023). Nuclear power plays a substantial role within a secure global trajectory toward achieving net zero emissions (NZE) (Addo et al., 2023; Dafnomilis et al., 2023). Nuclear power capacity experiences a twofold increase, progressing from 413 GW at the outset of 2022 to 812 GW by 2050 within the NZE paradigm. It is apparent that the annual additions to nuclear capacity peaked at 27 GW per year during the 2030s, surpassing the levels observed in the preceding decade. Despite these advancements, the global proportion of nuclear power within the overall electricity generation portfolio has experienced a marginal decline, settling at 8% (Murphy et al., 2023; Ruhnau et al., 2023). Emerging and developing economies (EMDEs) substantially dominate global growth, constituting over 90% of the aggregate, with China poised to ascend as a preeminent nuclear power producer prior to 2030. Concurrently, advanced economies collectively witness a 10% augmentation in nuclear power capacity as retirements are counterbalanced by the commissioning of new facilities, predominantly observed in nations such as the United States, France, the United Kingdom, and Canada (Bórawski et al., 2024). Furthermore, annual global investment in nuclear power has experienced a notable escalation, soaring from US$30 billion throughout the 2010s to surpass US$100 billion by 2030, maintaining a robust trajectory above US$80 billion by 2050 (IEA, 2022). In 2022, global nuclear power capacity experienced a modest increase of approximately 1.5 GW, reflecting a marginal year-on-year growth of 0.3%. This expansion was primarily driven by new capacity additions that surpassed the retirement of an over 6 GW of existing capacity (Fernández-Arias et al., 2023; Mendelevitch et al., 2018). EMDEs accounted for approximately 60% of the new capacity additions, underscoring their increasing significance in the global nuclear energy landscape. Conversely, more than half of the retirements were observed in advanced economies, including Belgium, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Table 1 shows the nuclear power capacity by region in the NZE from 2018 to 2030.   In alignment with the Net Zero Scenario, it is imperative for the global nuclear capacity to undergo an expansion averaging approximately 15 GW per annum, constituting a growth rate slightly exceeding 3% annually, until 2030. This strategic augmentation is crucial for sustaining the contribution of the nuclear sector to electricity generation, maintaining its share at approximately 10% (Liu et al., 2023). Such an expansion necessitates concerted efforts in both advanced economies and EMDEs. Furthermore, prioritizing the extension of operational lifetimes of existing nuclear facilities within G7 member states would not only fortify the existing low-emission infrastructure, but also facilitate the integration of new nuclear capacity, thereby augmenting the overall nuclear energy portfolio. [...] The significant contribution of nuclear power to sustainable energy transitions is underscored by its multifaceted role in addressing the pressing challenges of climate change and energy security (Asif et al., 2024). As nations worldwide endeavor to shift toward greener energy systems, nuclear power has emerged as a critical pillar of the decarbonization journey. Its ability to provide low-carbon electricity, mitigate climate change impacts by 2050, and enhance energy security highlights its pivotal importance in the broader context of sustainable energy transitions (Bhattacharyya et al., 2023; NEA, 2015). Thus, to fully realize its potential, challenges such as safety, waste management, and public perception must be addressed effectively. By leveraging robust policy frameworks, technological advancements, and international collaboration, nuclear power is poised to play a vital role in shaping the future of sustainable energy transitions on a global scale. Furthermore, the dynamic landscape of nuclear power development is evident in the significant influence exerted by EMDEs, particularly China, which is expected to emerge as a leading nuclear power producer by 2030 (Fälth et al., 2021; Nkosi and Dikgang, 2021). Concurrently, advanced economies are witnessing notable expansions in nuclear power capacity driven by the commissioning of new facilities to offset retirements (Budnitz et al., 2018). This trend is further reinforced by a notable surge in annual global investment in nuclear power, underscoring the sustained commitment to nuclear energy's pivotal role in sustainable energy transitions in the foreseeable future (IEA, 2019). The primary objective of this article is to explore the strategic role of nuclear power in advancing global sustainability goals and achieving zero emissions. The objective is structured around the following key agendas: •Nuclear power: prominence and green electricity source•Nuclear's role in achieving net zero by 2050•Nuclear power's significance in power system adequacySpecific technologies for sustainability in nuclear energy production•Investment in nuclear power•Addressing policy implications This comprehensive analysis aims to provide actionable insights into harnessing nuclear power for sustainable electricity generation and its pivotal role in achieving global zero-emission targets. Data and methodology This article conducts an in-depth analysis of the role of nuclear power in achieving sustainable electricity generation and supporting NZE targets. The article also addresses the potential of nuclear energy as a prominent and environmentally favorable electricity source, examining nuclear power's contribution toward the net zero by 2050 goal, its critical importance in ensuring power system adequacy, investment imperatives, and the broader policy implications.  [...] Nuclear power: prominence and green electricity source In 2020, nuclear power will constitute approximately 10% of the global electricity generation portfolio. This proportion, which had previously stood at 18% during the late 1990s, has experienced a decline; nonetheless, nuclear energy retains its status as the second-largest provider of low-emission electricity, trailing only hydroelectricity, and serves as the primary source within advanced economies. Despite the substantial proliferation of wind and solar PV technologies, nuclear electricity production in 2020 surpassed the aggregate output of these renewable sources. As of 2021, the global cumulative installed nuclear capacity has reached 413 GW, with 270 GW of this total being installed in advanced economies (Guidi et al., 2023; Halkos and Zisiadou, 2023; Pan et al., 2023; Zhang et al., 2022). Nuclear power generation during this period amounted to 2653 TWh, positioning it as the second largest source of electricity generation after hydropower, which generated 4275 TWh, as depicted in Figure 1.   In addition to its significant role in power generation, nuclear energy plays a crucial role in mitigating carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions. Since the 1970s, nuclear power has helped avoid the global release of approximately 66 gigatons (Gt) of CO2 globally, as shown in Figure 2.   Without the contribution of nuclear power, cumulative emissions from electricity generation would have increased by approximately 20%, whereas total energy-related emissions would have increased by 6% over this period (Wagner, 2021). Advanced economies accounted for more than 85% of these avoided emissions, with the European Union accounting for 20 Gt and the United States for 24 Gt, representing over 40% and 25% of total electricity generation emissions, respectively. In the absence of nuclear power, Japan would have experienced an estimated 25% increase in emissions from electricity generation, whereas Korea and Canada would have seen an increase of approximately 50%. Nuclear's role in achieving net zero by 2050 Nuclear energy has emerged as a pivotal low-emission technology within the trajectory toward achieving NZE (Pioro et al., 2019). In addition, it serves as a complementary force, bolstering the accelerated expansion of renewables, thereby facilitating the reduction of emissions from the global electricity sector to net zero by 2040 (Krūmiņš and Kļaviņš, 2023; Islam et al., 2024). Beyond its intrinsic contribution to fostering a low-emission electricity supply, nuclear power is significant as a dispatchable generating asset, fortifying supply security through its provision of system adequacy and flexibility. Furthermore, it is instrumental in furnishing heat for district heating networks and in selecting industrial facilities. Despite this, the prospective role of nuclear energy hinges significantly on the deliberations and determinations of policymakers and industry stakeholders concerning the pace of new reactor construction initiatives and the continued operational lifespan of existing nuclear facilities (Li et al., 2016; Li et al., 2015).In terms of the NZE trajectory, the global nuclear power capacity exhibits a remarkable surge, nearly doubling from 413 GW at the onset of 2022 to 812 GW by 2050 (Price et al., 2023; Utami et al., 2022). This augmentation primarily stems from the vigorous initiation of new construction endeavors, which effectively counterbalance the gradual decommissioning of numerous extant plants. Such an escalation constitutes a pronounced acceleration in comparison to the preceding three decades, characterized by a mere 15% increment in capacity, equivalent to approximately 60 GW (Haneklaus et al., 2023; Obekpa and Alola, 2023; Sadiq et al., 2023). Figure 3 demonstrates the nuclear power capacity within each country/region under the NZE by 2050 scenario.   The expected growth in nuclear power capacity far exceeds the path outlined by the current policies and legal frameworks. According to the Stated Policies Scenario (STEPS), the nuclear capacity is projected to reach approximately 530 GW by 2050, which is 35% lower than that of the NZE pathway (Espín et al., 2023; Nicolau et al., 2023; Nnabuife et al., 2023; Wang et al., 2023). Without a significant shift from recent nuclear power development trends, achieving NZE would require a limited reliance on a smaller range of low-emission technologies. This could compromise energy security and lead to higher total investment costs, resulting in increased electricity prices for consumers. Table 2 shows the average annual capacity addition for global nuclear power in NZE from 1981 to 2030.   In 2022, the global deployment of new nuclear power capacity witnessed a notable upsurge, with 7.9 GW added, representing a substantial 40% increase compared to the preceding year (Ho et al., 2019). It is worth bearing in mind that China spearheaded this expansion by completing the construction of two reactors, maintaining its streak for consecutive years as the leading contributor to global nuclear power capacity augmentation. It is noteworthy that the projects were successfully completed in various other nations, including Finland, Korea, Pakistan, and the United Arab Emirates. Additionally, significant strides were made in the initiation of new construction endeavors, with the commencement of construction activities on five reactors in China, two reactors in Egypt, and one reactor in Turkey (Hickey et al., 2021). Nuclear power's significance in power system adequacy Nuclear power facilities have persistently underpinned the dependability of power systems, thereby bolstering the adequacy of the system. Across diverse national contexts, nuclear power plants have historically maintained operational readiness, manifesting availability rates consistently exceeding 90%, thereby demonstrating their reliability in power generation. Given that a substantial proportion of nuclear power capacity directly contributes to system adequacy metrics, its significance in fortifying system reliability and adequacy significantly outweighs its proportional contribution to the total power capacity (Orikpete and Ewim, 2024; Frilingou et al., 2023; Raj, 2023; Ragosa et al., 2024). The contribution of nuclear power to system adequacy is demonstrated by the consistent trajectory of its share within the aggregate dispatchable power capacity, hovering at around 8% between 2021 and 2050 within the NZE framework (IEA, 2022; OIES, 2024). Dispatchable electricity sources have historically constituted the primary mechanism for ensuring system adequacy, a trend that endures within the NZE paradigm, especially as electricity systems undergo evolution marked by an escalating reliance on variable solar photovoltaic (PV) and wind energy sources (Marzouk, 2024; Moon et al., 2024; Wisnubroto et al., 2023). It is indisputable that unabated fossil fuel resources predominantly dominate dispatchable capacity; however, their prominence clearly diminishes, declining by a quarter by 2030 within the NZE framework and experiencing a precipitous decline thereafter. Unabated coal-fired power, currently the most substantial dispatchable source, anticipates a decline exceeding 40% in operational capacity by 2030 and approaches a state of negligible contribution by the early 2040s. Conversely, the unabated natural gas-fired power capacity exhibits a sustained level of stability until 2030, primarily driven by the necessity to offset the diminishing role of coal; nonetheless, it subsequently undergoes a rapid descent throughout the 2030s. Oil, constituting a comparatively minor contributor, experiences rapid phasing out across most regions, except for remote locales, within the delineated scenario (Makarov et al., 2023; Ren et al., 2024). Figure 4 highlights the global capacity of dispatchable power categorized by category in the scenario of achieving NZE by 2050.   In this context, fossil fuels equipped with Carbon Capture, Utilization, and Storage (CCUS) technology have emerged as notable contributors to bolstering system adequacy. Yet, nuclear power remains a steady contributor to the power system flexibility. In advanced economies, the proportion of hour-to-hour flexibility is projected to increase from approximately 2% to 5% by 2050. Similarly, in EMDEs, this ratio is anticipated to increase from 1% to 3% over the same temporal span (Jenkins et al., 2018). It is worth highlighting that in France, where nuclear power fulfills the lion's share of electricity generation requisites, flexibility has been ingrained within reactor designs (Ho et al., 2019). This feature enables certain plants to swiftly modulate their output to align with the fluctuating electricity supply and demand, operating in a load-following mode (Chen, 2024; Jin and Bae, 2023; Kanugrahan and Hakam, 2023). Although many nations have not habitually engaged nuclear power in such operational dynamics, a considerable number of reactors are capable of performing load-following operations with minimal or no requisite technical adaptations (Caciuffo et al., 2020). Figure 5 demonstrates the hour-to-hour power system flexibility based on the source and regional grouping in the NZE by the 2050 scenario.   Innovation holds promise in enhancing the flexibility of nuclear power. Advanced technological advancements, such as SMRs, can facilitate nuclear reactors to adjust their electricity output with greater ease, as illustrated in Figure 6 (Ho et al., 2019; Lee, 2024; Wisnubroto et al., 2023). Moreover, these technologies offer the prospect of enabling reactors to transition toward generating heat or producing hydrogen either independently or concurrently with electricity generation. Initiatives are underway to disseminate information to policymakers and planners regarding the potential cost advantages associated with enhancing nuclear power flexibility.  Figure 6 demonstrates the nuclear system augmented by wind turbines for trigeneration.   Investment in nuclear power The renaissance of nuclear power within the NZE trajectory necessitates a substantial surge in investment in the coming decades. This surge is envisaged to encompass the construction of new nuclear reactors and extension of operational lifespans for existing facilities. Within this scenario, annual global investment in nuclear power is poised to escalate to exceed US$100 billion during the initial half of the 2030s within the NZE framework, surpassing the threefold average investment level of US$30 billion recorded during the 2010s (IEA, 2022). Subsequently, investment levels are expected to gradually decline as the imperative for dispatchable low emissions generating capacity diminishes, tapering to approximately US$70 billion by the latter half of the 2040s (Kharitonov and Semenova, 2023; Zimmermann and Keles, 2023). Over the period spanning from 2021 to 2050, the allocation of investment toward nuclear power constitutes a fraction representing less than 10% of the aggregate investment dedicated to low-emission sources of electricity (IEA, 2022). By comparison, within this framework, the annual investment in renewable energy experiences a notable escalation, escalating from an average of US$325 billion during the interval from 2016 to 2020 to US$1.3 trillion during the period 2031–2035 (EEDP, 2023; Rekik and El Alimi, 2024d). It is worth noting that the latter consideration elucidates the rationale behind the disproportionate allocation of investment toward advanced economies in later decades. China, for instance, requires an annual expenditure averaging close to US$20 billion on nuclear infrastructure by 2050, representing a nearly twofold increase compared to the average observed during the 2010s (Aghahosseini et al., 2023; Vujić et al., 2012). Conversely, other EMDEs witness a tripling of investment, reaching approximately US$25 billion per year, on average. In contrast to advanced economies, the imperative for investment in these nations is more pronounced in the period leading up to 2035 (Bhattacharyya et al., 2023; Khaleel et al., 2024). Thus, nuclear energy, despite its advantages as a low-carbon energy source, faces notable challenges. High capital costs and long deployment timelines, driven by complex construction and regulatory requirements, often hinder its adoption. The management of radioactive waste remains a costly and contentious issue, while safety concerns, shaped by historical incidents, continue to influence public perception. Additionally, reliance on uranium, with its geographically concentrated supply, raises geopolitical and environmental concerns. Nuclear power also competes with the rapidly advancing and cost-effective renewable energy sector, while decommissioning aging plants poses long-term financial and logistical burdens. Addressing these limitations through advanced technologies, public engagement, and international collaboration is crucial for enhancing nuclear energy's role in sustainable energy transitions. Technologies for sustainability in nuclear energy production The pursuit of sustainability in nuclear energy production has been supported by advancements in innovative technologies that enhance efficiency, safety, and environmental compatibility (Aktekin et al., 2024; Ali et al., 2024; Zheng et al., 2024; Khan et al., 2017). These technologies are crucial for positioning nuclear power as a key contributor to clean and sustainable energy transitions. Below are some of the most impactful technologies in this domain: Advanced nuclear reactors: Small modular reactors (SMRs): SMRs are compact, scalable, and safer than traditional large-scale reactors. Their modular design allows for deployment in remote locations, making them suitable for decentralized energy systems. Generation IV reactors: These reactors incorporate advanced cooling systems and fuel cycles to improve efficiency, safety, and waste reduction. Examples include sodium-cooled fast reactors and gas-cooled fast reactors. Thorium-based reactors: Thorium fuel cycle reactors use thorium-232 as an alternative to uranium, offering a more abundant and sustainable fuel source. Thorium reactors produce less nuclear waste and have a lower risk of proliferation. Fusion energy: Although still in the experimental stage, nuclear fusion promises to be a game-changing technology. Fusion produces minimal radioactive waste and harnesses abundant fuel sources like deuterium and tritium, making it a virtually limitless and clean energy solution. Molten salt reactors (MSRs): MSRs use liquid fuels or coolants, such as molten salts, which operate at lower pressures and higher temperatures. These reactors are inherently safer and have the capability to utilize a variety of fuel types, including spent nuclear fuel and thorium. Reactor safety enhancements: Passive safety systems: These systems enhance reactor safety by using natural forces like gravity, natural convection, or condensation to cool the reactor core without human intervention. Digital twin technologies: Digital simulations and monitoring of reactor systems allow for predictive maintenance and real-time safety management. Nuclear waste management technologies Fast reactors: These reactors can recycle spent fuel, reducing the volume and radioactivity of nuclear waste. Deep geological repositories: Advances in geotechnical engineering have improved the safety of long-term waste storage in deep geological formations. Hybrid nuclear-renewable systems: Combining nuclear power with renewable energy sources like wind and solar can optimize energy production and grid stability. Hybrid systems leverage the reliability of nuclear energy with the intermittency of renewables for a balanced, low-carbon energy mix. Artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning: AI and machine learning technologies are being deployed to enhance reactor performance, optimize fuel usage, and improve operational safety. Predictive analytics also play a critical role in maintenance and risk assessment. Fuel advancements: High-assay low-enriched uranium (HALEU): HALEU fuels enable reactors to operate more efficiently and reduce waste. Accident-tolerant fuels (ATFs): These are designed to withstand extreme conditions, reducing the likelihood of core damage during accidents. Integrated energy systems: Nuclear reactors are increasingly being used for purposes beyond electricity generation, such as hydrogen production, district heating, and desalination. The integration of digital technologies, including AI and machine learning, coupled with fuel advancements like HALEU and accident-tolerant fuels, highlights the continuous evolution of the nuclear sector. These innovations not only enhance efficiency and safety but also expand the applications of nuclear energy beyond electricity generation to include hydrogen production, desalination, and district heating. Despite these technological advancements, the sustainable deployment of nuclear energy requires robust policy frameworks, increased investments, and public acceptance. Addressing these challenges is critical to unlocking the full potential of nuclear power in achieving global energy security and NZE by 2050. [...] Discussion and policy implications Nuclear power presents a compelling case as a sustainable energy source owing to its several key advantages. Its high-energy density allows for substantial electricity generation from minimal fuel, enabling continuous operation, unlike intermittent renewables, such as solar and wind (Rekik and El Alimi, 2023a, 2023b), thus contributing significantly to grid stability (Cramer et al., 2023). Furthermore, nuclear power is a crucial tool for emissions reduction, boasting virtually no greenhouse gas emissions during operation. Although lifecycle emissions associated with fuel processing and plant construction exist, they remain comparable to or lower than those of renewables. Several studies have reported on the energy production capabilities of nuclear power and its contribution to reducing greenhouse gas emissions compared to other energy sources. A key aspect of these analyses is quantifying the potential contribution of nuclear power to reducing greenhouse gas emissions and achieving net zero targets. However, direct comparison of reported data can be challenging due to variations in model assumptions, geographic scope, and time horizons.  [...] From another perspective, radioactive waste generation poses a significant challenge to nuclear power because of its long-term hazardous nature. This necessitates meticulous management and disposal strategies to mitigate potential social impacts. These impacts arise from perceived or actual risks to human health and the environment, fueling public anxiety and opposition to nuclear power, which is often expressed through protests and legal action (Kyne and Bolin, 2016; Nilsuwankosit, 2017; Ram Mohan and Namboodhiry, 2020). Additionally, communities near waste sites can experience stigmatization, resulting in decreased property values and social isolation. The persistent nature of radioactive waste also raises intergenerational equity issues, burdening future generations with its management (Deng et al., 2020; Mason-Renton and Luginaah, 2019). Thus, transparent communication and stakeholder engagement are crucial for building public trust and ensuring responsible radioactive waste management (Dungan et al., 2021; Sančanin and Penjišević, 2023). There are various radioactive waste disposal pathways, each with unique social and technical considerations. Deep geological disposal, an internationally favored method for high-level waste disposal, involves burying waste deep underground for long-term isolation. Interim storage provides a secure temporary holding until a permanent solution is obtained (Chapman, 1992; Grambow, 2022). Reprocessing spent nuclear fuel recovers reusable materials, reducing high-level waste but creating lower-level waste. Advanced reactor technologies aim to minimize waste and improve safety, potentially converting long-lived isotopes into shorter-lived isotopes (Dixon et al., 2020; Englert and Pistner, 2023). Choosing a disposal pathway requires careful evaluation of factors, such as waste type and volume, geology, feasibility, cost, and public acceptance, often leading to a combined approach. Ongoing community engagement and addressing concerns are essential to safe and responsible waste management. Effective management and disposal of this waste require advanced technological solutions, robust regulatory frameworks, and long-term planning to ensure safety and sustainability (Abdelsalam et al., 2024; Rekik and El Alimi, 2024a), Moreover, its relatively small land footprint compared to other energy sources, especially solar and wind farms, minimizes the ecosystem impact and makes it a sustainable option in densely populated areas (Poinssot et al., 2016; Sadiq et al., 2022). Nuclear power also enhances energy security by reducing reliance on fossil fuels, which is particularly valuable in countries with limited domestic resources (Cramer et al., 2023; Ichord Jr., 2022). Additionally, nuclear power exhibits synergy with other clean technologies, providing a stable baseload complementing variable renewables and facilitating hydrogen production for diverse energy applications (Abdelsalam et al., 2024; El-Emam and Subki, 2021; Salam and Khan, 2018; Rekik, 2024; Rekik and El Alimi, 2024e). Finally, ongoing advancements in reactor design, such as SMRs, promise enhanced safety, reduced costs, and greater deployment flexibility, further solidifying the role of nuclear power in decarbonizing the electricity sector (Aunedi et al., 2023). Supportive policies and international cooperation are essential for fully realizing the potential of nuclear energy. Streamlined licensing and regulatory frameworks are crucial for reducing deployment time and costs and ensuring that safety standards are met efficiently (Gungor and Sari, 2022; Jewell et al., 2019). Furthermore, incentivizing investments through financial tools such as tax credits and loan guarantees can attract private capital and create a level-playing field for nuclear power (Decker and Rauhut, 2021; Nian and Hari, 2017; Zimmermann and Keles, 2023). Addressing public perception through education and engagement is equally important for building trust and acceptance. Moreover, international cooperation is vital in several respects. The disposal of radioactive waste remains a complex issue, requiring careful long-term management and securing geological repositories to prevent environmental contamination owing to the long half-life of some isotopes. Furthermore, while modern reactors incorporate advanced safety features, the potential for accidents such as Chernobyl and Fukushima remains a concern because of the potential for widespread radiation release and long-term health consequences (Denning and Mubayi, 2016; Högberg, 2013; Wheatley et al., 2016). Moreover, the high initial costs associated with design, construction, and licensing present significant barriers to new nuclear projects, particularly in developing countries. In addition, the risk of nuclear proliferation, in which technology intended for peaceful energy production is diverted for weapons development, necessitates stringent international safeguards, as highlighted by following reference. Public perception also plays a crucial role because negative opinions and concerns about safety and waste disposal can create opposition to new projects. Finally, the decommissioning of nuclear plants at the end of their operational life is a complex and costly process that requires substantial resources and expertise to dismantle reactors and manage radioactive materials. [...] Conclusion The role of nuclear power in sustainable energy transition is multifaceted and significant. As nations worldwide strive to transition toward more environmentally friendly energy systems, nuclear power has emerged as a crucial component of the decarbonization journey. Its capacity to provide low-carbon electricity, mitigate climate change, and contribute to energy security underscores its importance in the broader context of sustainable energy transitions. Despite this, challenges such as safety, waste management, and public perception must be addressed to fully harness the potential of nuclear power to achieve sustainability goals. By leveraging policy frameworks, technological innovations, and international cooperation, nuclear power can play a vital role in shaping the future of sustainable energy transition on a global scale. In this context, EMDEs exert a substantial influence on global growth, collectively accounting for over 90% of the aggregate, with China positioned to emerge as the foremost nuclear power producer before 2030. Concurrently, advanced economies have witnessed a notable 10% increase in their nuclear power capacity. This augmentation is attributed to the commissioning of new facilities, which offset retirements, manifestly observed in nations such as the United States, France, the United Kingdom, and Canada. Furthermore, there is a marked escalation in annual global investment in nuclear power, surging from US$30 billion throughout the 2010s to surpass US$100 billion by 2030. This upward trajectory is robustly sustained, remaining above US$80 billion by 2050. In conclusion, the remarkable decline in the levelized cost of electricity (LCOE) for solar PV and wind power over the past decade has positioned renewable energy as a cost-competitive and viable alternative to fossil fuels in many regions. The over 80% reduction in LCOE for utility-scale solar PV from 2010 to 2022 exemplifies the economic feasibility of renewables. Concurrently, the steady growth in renewable energy capacity, spearheaded by solar and wind energy, underscores their critical role in the global energy transition. With renewable electricity capacity surpassing 3300 GW in 2023 and accounting for over one-third of the global power mix, renewable energy is undeniably at the forefront of efforts to achieve a sustainable, low-carbon energy future. Declaration of conflicting interestsThe authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.ORCID iDSassi Rekik https://orcid.org/0000-0001-5224-4152Supplemental materialSupplemental material for this article is available online.ReferencesAbbasi K, Jiao Z, Shahbaz M, et al. (2020) Asymmetric impact of renewable and non-renewable energy on economic growth in Pakistan: New evidence from a nonlinear analysis. Energy Exploration & Exploitation 38(5): 1946–1967. Crossref. Web of Science.Abdelsalam E, Almomani F, Azzam A, et al. 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