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Diplomacy
24.01.2023 - Foto oficial da VII Cúpula da CELAC (52647149569)

Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean Nations as a strategy for integration with Asia and Africa

by Isaac Elías González Matute

Abstract This article analyzes the challenges and threats to global peace and stability, derived from the unipolar geopolitical vision of the United States and the application of the so-called “Donroe Doctrine”, promoted during the Trump administration and characterized by the “Maximum Pressure” strategy promoted by the America First Policy Institute. Through a methodology of documentary review of primary and secondary sources, together with a prospective analysis of risk trends, the strategic and leading role of CELAC in the defense of the interests of Latin America and the Caribbean is dimensioned, highlighting how this organization opens opportunities to strengthen trade relations with Asia and Africa, contributing to the construction of a multipolar world order by promoting initiatives such as China's Belt and Road as an alternative mechanism to the global economic war of the United States and its “US-CUM” project, framed in its foreign policy based on national security interests. Introduction 21st-century geopolitics has undoubtedly been characterized by strong pragmatism in the exercise of states’ foreign policy, balancing between two visions — specifically between the Unipolar Geopolitical Vision and the Multipolar Geopolitical Vision — which have categorized the praxis of international relations of the so-called Global North and Global South, respectively; a context that clearly shows a fervent struggle for political control of resources and for hegemony, where the United States competes for global supremacy with emerging poles of power such as Russia and China. Given the current international scenario, it becomes increasingly imperative to identify and understand both the needs and the challenges for the planet’s sustainable development, from a global perspective in all areas (economic, political, social, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military). In this regard, the present research prospectively analyzes the administration of President Donald Trump as part of the multidimensional threats that the U.S. represents not only for Latin America and the Caribbean but also for Africa and Asia, considering the impact of current U.S. foreign policy both on the American continent and for Africa and Asia. All of this is with a view to highlighting, through debate, the importance of rethinking CELAC as an international organization that systematically advances in a transition process from “Community” to “Confederation,” as an intergovernmental entity with the capacity to confront the threats of a unipolar geopolitical vision foreign policy, and in line with the goals established as development projects under the so-called “CELAC 360 Vision” [1], aligned with the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) of the 2030 Agenda, adopted by the United Nations (UN). Regarding the referred geopolitical transition, it is worth noting, as Guendel (2024) states: “The rising multipolarity will provoke, starting from this first decade of the 21st century, the emergence of historical events that mark the reaction to the expansion of Western geopolitical power to those old regions that were under another geopolitical influence. Among the most notable events, we must consider the processes of de-dollarization of the world economy, the war in Ukraine, the tension in the Taiwan Strait, and, of course, the war in Palestine. Under this reference, it is possible to characterize the current international geopolitical scenario as a moment of transition between the previous form of unipolar power and the new multipolar relations (123) [2]. Building on the above, the current geopolitical transition is a systemic process sustained by the multipolarity of international relations, driven by the struggle for power and the quest for economic dominance in both domestic and international markets. This has given rise to a growing trend in states’ foreign policy toward the construction of a multipolar world, where territorial governance over strategic resources forms part of the necessary geopolitical counterweight in regional dialogue, cooperation, and integration to face the challenges of the present century. The changes in the world order require Latin America and the Caribbean, Africa, and Asia to promote an idea of continental unity, framed within an anti-imperialist mindset, allowing progress toward Latin American, African, and Asian continentalism, compatible with the multipolar geopolitical vision, under the sustainable development approach put forward through the BRICS. Regarding this last international actor, Guendel (2024) notes: “In the development of a new phase of the globalization process after the end of the Cold War — what was geopolitically a new scenario for consolidating unipolar power relations — new lateral actors emerged, the so-called BRICS, which, by proposing alternative ways of thinking and economic relations favorable to Third World countries, would foster the emergence of a new global geopolitical scenario of multipolar relations (123). According to this scenario, the trend toward multipolarity in international relations —strengthened by globalization and technological advancements — will allow for the consolidation of a multipolar world, though not without first becoming a causal factor of various conflicts and challenges on a global scale, specifically in all spheres of power (economic, political, social, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military). Hence the importance of formulating a strategy for regional integration of Latin America, Asia, and Africa that aligns with global sustainable development plans — such as China’s Belt and Road Initiative — which, combined with the BRICS, constitute two fundamental pillars in strengthening the multipolar world. However, this will also accentuate the differences in geopolitical interests between the strategic agenda of the Global North (led by the U.S. through the G7) and that of the Global South (BRICS countries) regarding the projected economic growth of each. Having this in mind, the present research aims to analyze the challenges and threats to global peace and stability as a consequence of the U.S. unipolar geopolitical vision and the application of the so-called “Donroe Doctrine,” promoted by President Donald Trump and the policies advanced by his main think tank, the America First Policy Institute (AFPI), characterized by the “Maximum Pressure.” Development U.S.: Foreign policy oriented toward a new global fundamentalism The new White House administration, under the presidency of Donald Trump, challenges the so-called conservative Establishment [3] in the U.S., and according to Myriam Corte (2018), in her article on “Analysis of the U.S. ‘Establishment’” [4], the following statement is mentioned: “The residence of the current president is the site that houses political power, but at the same time reflects migratory power, since it is a construction built in the 18th century by African slaves, based on Irish architecture. As for the cabinet, it is made up of wealthy white men, who are responsible for administering power, but in the current administration some members have been accused of domestic abuse and misogynistic practices; therefore, it is important to identify whether Trump represents that old, conservative, and rigid establishment, or if there is any change” (1). According to what has been stated, there is undoubtedly a perception of a different stance associated with the “Deep State” Establishment in the U.S., with relevant structural changes that have a strong impact on both domestic and foreign policy. An example of this, according to Myriam Corte (2018), is represented in the very fact that: “Another variant is the Bible study group that was formed in the White House, as well as the group of fellows made up of 147 young people between the ages of 21 and 29, with a characteristic profile: all are wealthy individuals, among them the son of the president of the World Bank, who represent the new generation that will inherit power…” (1). In this context, the U.S.’s status as a major power revolves around a scenario of geopolitical conflict, even prioritizing its national interests over those of its main strategic allies, as a consequence of the systemic deterioration of its hegemony vis-à-vis Russia and China. This has generated hostile political actions as strategies to justify its territorial ambitions, in an attempt to counter the exponential growth of the BRIC and the crisis this represents for the global dollar system. A clear example of some hostile political actions is reflected in what happened with its European (NATO) partners recently, as well as with Canada, Mexico, and Greenland, becoming part of the geopolitical pragmatism promoted by the Donald Trump administration. Now, in direct relation to the unipolar geopolitical vision that characterizes U.S. foreign policy, it oscillates between defending the interests of the conservative Establishment and the postulates and ideals promoted by the AFPI [5], which maintain a clear influence in the conduct of U.S. foreign policy, acting as a think tank. Regarding this matter related to the influence of AFPI in the Donald Trump administration, it is worth mentioning some aspects associated with the practice of U.S. foreign policy for a better understanding of its current dynamics, which revolve around a new global fundamentalism with a marked unipolar geopolitical vision. Among them, we have the following: New global fundamentalism against the conservative national security establishment The AFPI serves as the main think tank for the Trump administration, according to Seibt (2024), who in his article “The America First Policy Institute, a discreet ‘combat’ machine for Donald Trump” [6], states the following: “America First” is often associated solely with Donald Trump’s isolationism. But behind the scenes, it is also linked to an ultra-conservative think tank with growing influence, the America First Policy Institute (AFPI)” (1); a fact that justifies the appointments made before and after Donald Trump’s swearing-in as President of the U.S., as he has been using an increasingly influential group in high-level decisions, subtly and systematically modifying changes in strategic agendas from the so-called “Deep State,” starting from what Seibt (2024) also refers to: “…the election of Brooke Rollins marks the consecration of AFPI’s influence, of which she is president, and which has been described by the New York Times as ‘a group as influential as it is little known’ in the orbit of Trumpism… Brooke Rollins is not the only person from AFPI that Donald Trump has chosen for his future government. Linda McMahon, chosen to be Secretary of Education, is the director of this think tank. And let us not forget Pam Bondi, who has been called to replace the too-controversial Matt Gaetz as Attorney General, and who oversees all the legal matters of the America First Policy Institute” (para. 5). In this context, there is clear evidence of AFPI’s influence within the Trump administration; therefore, to understand where the unipolar geopolitical vision recently adopted by the U.S. is headed — together with its prospective analysis — it is necessary to understand, from the very foundations of AFPI, how this organization envisions the path of what it calls, from a supremacist perspective, “America First.” To this end, it is enough to review the main AFPI website [7], where both its vision and analysis of what the U.S. should be, as well as how it should approach the exercise of foreign policy, are broken down and organized — with a curious detail that sets it apart: placing the interests of the American people above the interests of the conservative National Security establishment, stimulating the need to create a nation different from what they consider a “theoretical United States.” As AFPI (2025) states and describes: The Center for American Security at the America First Policy Institute defends Americans rather than a “theoretical United States” imagined by Washington’s national security establishment. The exercise of American power requires a clear justification, and an “America First” approach ensures that such power is used for the benefit of Americans. To promote this objective, the Center seeks to ensure the rigorous advancement of policies that constitute an authentically American alternative to the increasingly obsolete orthodoxy of Washington’s foreign and defense policy… (para. 2). As outlined, AFPI both promotes and warns about the exercise of power, prioritizing U.S. interests, as long as these remain distant from what it considers the “obsolete orthodoxy of foreign policy” that has characterized the U.S. for decades and centuries. In this sense, the likelihood increases of perceiving the presence or formation of a different establishment in the U.S., one that rivals the Anglo-Saxon conservatism rooted since the nation’s very founding. Domestically, the perception of a new global fundamentalism in U.S. foreign policy grows — one with an even more marked unipolar geopolitical vision of an imperialist nature — based on what AFPI (2025) doctrinally dictates in terms of foreign policy: The phrase “America First” refers to an approach rooted in the awareness of the United States’ unique role in the world and its unparalleled ability to do the most for others when its people are strong, secure, and prosperous. It means that any commitment of American lives or dollars abroad must bring concrete benefits to the American people. Every investment of U.S. resources must generate a substantial security benefit (para. 3). From this, it is possible to infer the direction of the U.S. strategic agenda under the current administration and doctrinally supported by AFPI as its main think tank. However, the deep changes that are occurring — both inside and outside the U.S. — and how the global economic and financial situation fluctuates because of these changes, in a certain way, compel major economies to reconsider new mechanisms for economic and financial coordination and cooperation. This includes strengthening regional integration frameworks that allow them to navigate the ongoing process of reconfiguring the current world order, laying the groundwork for the construction of a multipolar world. Proxy Control of Global Territorial Governance, Backed by the “Donroe Doctrine” The exercise of current U.S. foreign policy, characterized by a unipolar geopolitical vision under the new Trump administration, is the result of the application of a doctrine carefully designed and reformulated from its dogmas, supported by a strong religious fundamentalism and associated with racial supremacism; wherein the U.S. seeks to perpetuate its global hegemony by returning to its original imperialist character. All of this turns the exercise of U.S. power toward National Security, but with a practical approach different from the so-called “obsolete orthodoxy of conservative foreign policy.” As AFPI (2021) has emphasized since its founding: Religious freedom is a fundamental human right guaranteed not only in the Constitution of the United States but also in Article 18 of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights. It is a natural right inherent to all of humanity (para. 3). With the above, at first glance, AFPI appears to delineate its religious fundamentalism, oriented toward the promotion of a new global fundamentalism through the exercise of foreign policy that justifies its actions in favor of U.S. supremacist interests, in line with what AFPI (2021) reiterates as its mission on its platform: AFPI exists to promote policies that prioritize the American people. Our guiding principles are freedom, free enterprise, national greatness, U.S. military superiority, foreign policy engagement in the interest of the United States, and the primacy of American workers, families, and communities in all we do (para. 1). To this, we must add the disposition — regarding national security — of driving U.S. supremacism through the application of Hard Power [8], economic warfare, and the increased implementation of Unilateral Coercive Measures (UCMs) against any country that contravenes U.S. interests, by perpetuating interventionist policy in all spheres of power (economic, political, social, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military). An example of the above is referred to by AFPI (2025) on its website [9], as follows: The American victories in World War II and the Cold War established our country as “the last best hope for man on Earth.” The cause of freedom everywhere in the world depends on a strong United States. With our country secure, we can, with greater confidence, promote American security abroad. U.S. security is exemplified by a strong military, fair trade agreements, alliances that are equitable, aggressors who are isolated, and those who harm us, destroyed. The AFPI views American security abroad as a prerequisite for peace at home: always putting American interests first. This includes moving away from endless and unnecessary wars to rebuild the homeland, while also understanding our indispensable role in maintaining a peaceful world… (para. 4). With a brief reading of the above, it is possible to see at first glance the practical description of current U.S. foreign policy, starting from the fact of recent attempts to end the Ukrainian conflict; however, skepticism when addressing both the geopolitical feasibility and the reliability of the proposals made by the Trump administration reveals a hidden objective, particularly associated with proxy control of global territorial governance through hostile policies and the use of the government itself as a weapon. An example of this is the stimulation of a trade war by the U.S. against Canada, Mexico, and the European Union (NATO allies), all with the aim of establishing as a rule the use of Hard Power for political persuasion over strategic resources — an example of this being the recent (and forcibly) signed rare earths agreement by Ukraine — in favor of the United States. U.S.-CUM, a New Nation-State and Persuasive Technology: Utopia or Global Geopolitical Threat? Geopolitical changes in the 21st century are advancing in parallel with technology, the economy, and global energy interdependence. For this reason, the use of Persuasive Technologies [10], through various media and information channels, plays a fundamental role in creating opinion frameworks and the mass manipulation of perceptions on a global scale. In other words, in the Era of Disinformation, technology is the primary tool, stemming from the communication needs of modern society. In this regard, Tusa et al. (2019) state the following: “…fake news has always existed. What is happening now is a greater emergence on open and free access platforms, which causes this type of information to grow exponentially in a matter of seconds. Therefore, fake news creates a wave of disinformation, a fact that motivates academia and civil society to counter it, to achieve the return of good journalism and truthful information” (20). [11] In this context, current disinformation processes respond to pre-established objectives by power poles linked to fluctuating geoeconomic interests in the world order, in which the Global North with a unipolar geopolitical vision and the Global South with a multipolar geopolitical vision are in open confrontation. In relation to this, Valton (2022) points out: “…economic globalization, finance, and the development of new technologies have opened spaces for the new geoeconomy. Thus, geoeconomy as part of the process of change plays an essential role that affects international relations, with an impact on international trade, global markets, and conflicts in the quest for capital accumulation. Geopolitical interests are closely linked to the economic gains of major capitalist powers and transnational corporations in their eagerness to increase their revenues, maintain and expand their area of influence in other regions, at the expense of the indiscriminate exploitation of the natural resources of underdeveloped countries, with high poverty rates and environmental damage” (2). [12] Now, considering the unipolar geopolitical vision of U.S. foreign policy and the doctrinal influence of the AFPI in the new Trump administration, there is a curious growing communication campaign on different digital platforms, specifically associated with persuasive technologies, that fosters the perception of the creation of a new State called U.S.-CUM. While this corresponds to a very subtle disinformation campaign and somewhat utopian in nature, it is nonetheless surprising that, in the facts and actions of the new White House administration, they have not stopped flirting with certain ideas related to the mentioned State in question.   To be more specific, the U.S.-CUM is a utopian idea of a territorial expansion of the current United States, adding the territorial spaces of Canada and Mexico with the goal of increasing the economic, political, financial, and military capacities of the U.S., to counter emerging powers and prevent the consolidation of a multipolar world. An example of this can be found in some posts made on the Reddit platform, a social network popular among the U.S. population, similar to Instagram, X, TikTok, and Facebook, among others. The U.S.-CUM utopia has now moved from a mere concept to a possible threat to global geopolitics, the moment the foreign policy of the Trump administration suggests the possibility of territorially adding Canada, turning it into the 51st state of the United States. Colvin (2025), in his AP article titled “Trump says he is serious about making Canada the 51st U.S. state,” refers to the following: President Donald Trump said he was serious about wanting Canada to become the 51st state of the United States in an interview aired Sunday during the Super Bowl pregame show… The United States is not subsidizing Canada. Americans purchase products from the resource-rich nation, including raw materials such as oil. Although the goods trade deficit has grown in recent years to $72 billion in 2023, it largely reflects U.S. imports of Canadian energy… (paras. 1-4). [13] In relation to the same policy undertaken with Canada, the Trump administration began a very dangerous strategy against its territorial neighbors, with the following actions: declaring Mexican drug cartels as terrorist groups (knowing how the U.S. has manipulated the concept of terrorism to justify military interventions), implementing migrant deportation policies, waging a fight against fentanyl, and additionally launching a tariff war with both Mexico and Canada. It has also reiterated its intention to annex Greenland, accompanied by threats of tariffs and a trade war against Denmark and other EU countries, including undermining the existence of NATO. All the above is carried out under the close advice and influence of the AFPI, clearly reflected in its supremacist doctrinal positions and aspirations to create a large imperialist nation. An example of these ambitions has been openly published by various international media outlets, including the news channel FRANCE24. In this outlet, Blandón (2025) refers to the following: During a meeting with NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte, U.S. President Donald Trump reiterated that control of Greenland is necessary to improve international security, while once again confirming his interest in annexing this territory… Outgoing Greenland Prime Minister Mute Egede responded on the social network Facebook: “The U.S. president has once again raised the idea of annexing us. Enough is enough!”, and added that he will call on the leaders of all parties to convince them to prevent it… (paras. 1, 2).   In other words, it is appropriate to infer that the direction and intentionality of the foreign policy of the new Trump administration is aimed at territorial expansionism and the promotion of proxy control of global territorial governance, supported by the “Donroe Doctrine” and enhanced through the use and development of Persuasive Technology, aligned with a global strategic agenda (influenced by the AFPI), which seeks to counter the strengthening of a multipolar world and perpetuate U.S. imperialist hegemony under a global supremacy fundamentalism. CELAC as a Geopolitical Counterweight to the Real Threat of the U.S. and Its New Imperialist Format for Hegemonic Survival The Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC), as an intergovernmental organization, currently acquires strategic value for the entire continent and its sustainable development, within the framework of creating new mechanisms for coordination, cooperation, and regional integration with Africa and Asia — especially China — through the Belt and Road Initiative, considering the entire current geopolitical context where markets play a predominant role in defining internal policies and in directly influencing the strategic agendas of each nation's foreign policy, according to constantly changing global challenges, heightened by the stance adopted by the Global North, led by the U.S., against the Global South, led by BRICS countries. Once the real threat posed by the U.S. has been identified — based on the unipolar geopolitical vision that has characterized the exercise of its foreign policy — this is compounded by the supremacist trend in implementing Unilateral Coercive Measures (UCMs) [14] against free and independent nations that, upholding the principle of self-determination, do not submit to or share the interests of the Anglo-Saxon establishment, promoted by the new U.S. administration. Now then, conducting a prospective analysis of how and on what grounds the U.S. sustains and describes its current hegemonic behavior, it is possible to predict, with certain elements and data, what its courses of action will be — courses that Latin America and the Caribbean, as well as Africa and Asia (especially China), should consider. Among these, the following stand out: Territorial Expansion of the U.S. Trade War The current trade war declared between the U.S., Canada, and Mexico — initially through the reciprocal imposition of tariffs — considering the influence of the AFPI as a U.S. Think Tank, is clearly perceived as territorial expansion, in search of proxy control over territorial governance previously mentioned, of all strategic resources in Latin America and the Caribbean. This comes because of the fiscal, economic, and financial weakening the U.S. is experiencing through the increase of public debt, which is practically unsustainable. In this sense, the actions taken by the Trump administration in appointing certain cabinet positions can be understood to some extent. However, it is curious and at the same time causal that many appointments obey and are related — directly and indirectly — to the training of officials associated with and linked to the AFPI, as part of its strategic objective. An example of this are the words of Colonel Robert Wilkie, co-chair of the Center for American Security, member of the AFPI, quoted by King (2025) in his press article titled “AFPI Welcomes President Trump’s Renewal of the American Dream”, where the following was stated, making direct reference to peace through strength: President Trump proclaimed that America is back, which means our Armed Forces are back: the greatest force for peace in the history of the world. He has restored the highest combat standards so that our soldiers fight, win, and return home to their loved ones as soon as possible. President Trump has restored the place of honor our warriors hold in the hearts and minds of the American people. He has restored America’s deterrent power and told the world that the most powerful words in the language are: “I am an American citizen.” Our borders are stronger, our seas safer, and every wrongdoer knows that the eagle is watching them. (para. 6) The above statement does not set aside its imperialist and supremacist character, denoting the philosophical and doctrinal thinking deeply rooted in the officials who hold government functions at all decision-making levels, promoting pro-U.S. policies that disrespect international law and encourage the establishment of a rules-based world order, with full disregard for the international rule of law. This is, in fact, a very complex and dangerous geopolitical situation, which threatens not only the self-determination of peoples, but also the ability to advance in areas of coordination, cooperation, and integration to achieve the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) adopted in the United Nations 2030 Agenda, to which CELAC countries adhere through the implementation of development plans seeking mutual benefit. Now then, the world order is in permanent change, with a tendency toward the consolidation of a multipolar world because of the crisis of capitalism and the Anglo-Saxon economic model represented in the Bretton Woods System. This situation favors the opening of new mechanisms supported by the multipolarity of international relations, depending on the behavior of the world economy, as a result of the policies of both the U.S. and emerging powers—especially the BRICS countries. However, it is precisely the economic pulse that will redefine the hostile actions of the U.S. in defense of its global hegemonic power, equally and in parallel influenced by the energy capacities of the world powers in conflict — an element that is preponderant in geopolitical influence. An example in this chapter is Russia’s advantage in gas and oil during the Ukrainian conflict. The exponential economic growth of the BRICS compared to the G7 is the clearest expression of the multilateral influence trend of member countries, in line with the multipolarity of international relations, where the geopolitical positioning of both the Global North (G7) and the Global South (BRICS) can be clearly observed. This economic and financial disparity accelerates the weakening of the Bretton Woods System and, consequently, the collapse of the dollar system within the Anglo-Saxon economic model, leading to the loss of hegemonic influence of the Global North countries — especially the U.S. as its main exponent. Other data are relevant when conducting a prospective analysis, with the aim of identifying growth and sustainable development opportunities, as well as understanding the challenges to achieving strategic objectives for comprehensive development by nations. Among the data to consider in the prospective analysis, we have the following chart, associated with excessive global consumption in the 21st century compared to the 20th century:   According to the chart on excessive global consumption, in only six years of progress into the 21st century, modern society has exceeded more than half of what it consumed in the 20th century, with a 75% increase above the average recorded over the last 100 years — a truly alarming percentage with a tendency to increase, as a consequence of economic activity, technological advancement, and the increase of armed conflicts worldwide. Within this context, the U.S. will increasingly seek to influence countries that significantly represent an economic interest in terms of territory, population density, manufacturing and industrial capacity, and geographic position. Through proxy control of territorial governance, it will aim to increase its hegemonic capacity in the economic and financial spheres against its main geopolitical rivals in the struggle for global supremacy — namely Russia and China — whose multipolar geopolitical vision entirely rivals the unipolar geopolitical vision of U.S. foreign policy. Given this scenario, CELAC presents a fundamental characteristic that allows it to move forward as a geopolitical counterweight to the U.S., broken down as follows:Territorial extension: all member countries together cover an enormous territorial space rich in strategic resources, with common areas of influence and mutual interest for sustainable development. Shared future, based on history, language, customs, and other cultural expressions that strengthen Latin American and Caribbean identity, which can be leveraged in the processes of regional consultation, cooperation, and integration with Africa and Asia. The increase in the hostile trend of U.S. foreign policy worldwide will require greater effort from CELAC to advance in consolidating full regional integration. However, the current progress of the intergovernmental organization has been limited to certain and specific areas, namely the economic, cultural, social, and political spheres of its members. Transition toward the Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean States as a strategy for geopolitical counterbalance and sustainable development For CELAC to consolidate itself as a geopolitical counterweight to U.S. hegemonic ambitions in the region, it must be grounded in the exercise of a foreign policy with a multipolar geopolitical vision, compatible with the mutual sustainable development interests of the Global South. In this regard, Palacio de Oteyza (2004), in his essay "The Imperial Image of the New International Order: Is This Political Realism?" states the following: “The second realistic image of the international order, partially compatible with the geoeconomic image, consists of a return to a traditional multipolar system of balance of power, but with a decisive weight given to the military factor. The multipolar system is characterized by the absence of a hegemon and a flexibility of alliances among the great powers, aimed at restraining any potential challenger” [13]. In this context, the geopolitical counterweight that CELAC needs to confront the U.S.’s hegemonic ambitions in the region — and even globally — is regional integration in other areas not currently contemplated by the Community of Nations due to its nature. That is, increasing integration in the military, geographic, and social spheres through the transition toward a confederation of nations would enhance international relations capabilities, contributing to the adoption of deterrent measures for the prevention of armed conflicts and even facilitating its integration into other centers of power with a multipolar geopolitical vision, such as the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), to further strengthen relations with both Russia and China and their respective sustainable development plans. Economic opening and new formulas for regional integration with Africa and Asia An economic opening is the result of the globalization process, the advancement of new technologies, and the effects of the exercise of states’ foreign policies in accordance with their interests and the geopolitical vision they adopt, for geopolitical analysis that enables the identification of risks, threats, and opportunities in the international arena. That said, within the framework of regional integration, CELAC must also prioritize investment sectors for the establishment of common development interests among CELAC, Africa, and Asia. One of the most notable current realities is the fact that the Global South’s economy began systematically, setting challenges and then experiencing growth in less time compared to the growth of the G20, led by the U.S., with China taking the lead according to the percentage value recorded in 2024. In this scenario, CELAC, by reconsidering its transition toward a Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean States, would allow for greater autonomy in its integration into the global architecture implied by the strengthening and consolidation of the BRICS at the global level as an alternative system to the Bretton Woods System. In doing so, advances toward strengthening regional integration — embedded within a new multipolar world, with the combined capabilities of the Global South — can become, more than a reality, a necessity to confront the real threats posed by the U.S., serving as a geopolitical counterweight and a tool for insertion into the multipolar world through continental alliances between Latin America and the Caribbean, with Africa and Asia. Conclusions It was possible to assess the leading role of CELAC and its strategic nature in defending the regional interests of Latin America and the Caribbean, opening a world of opportunities in trade relations with Asia and Africa for the construction of a multipolar world through the promotion of China’s Belt and Road Initiative as an alternative mechanism to confront the U.S. economic war on a global scale and its project to create the so-called “U.S.-CUM”, as part of its foreign policy based on its national security interests. In this regard, in an environment of geopolitical changes and international crisis, as part of the transition process toward the consolidation of a multipolar world, CELAC can promote or drive significant advances aimed at the creation of a Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean Nations (CONLAC) as part of a strategy for integration with Asia and Africa, considering the multipolar geopolitical vision shared by the Global South, where the concept of shared development represents a key point for international dialogue and cooperation — specifically in the economic, social, political, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military spheres. All of this would serve to act as a geopolitical counterweight to the threats and global challenges promoted by the U.S., in the exercise of its unipolar geopolitical vision in foreign policy, of an imperialist, hegemonic, and supremacist nature. Notes [1] Fuente: https://celacinternational.org/projects/[2] Revista Comunicación. Año 45, vol. 33, núm. 1, enero-junio 2024 (pp. 120-133). Fuente: https:// www.scielo.sa.cr/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1659-38202024000100120[3] Conjunto de personas, instituciones y entidades influyentes en la sociedad o en un campo determinado, que procuran mantener y controlar el orden establecido. Fuente: https://dpej.rae. es/lema/establishment[4] https://gaceta.politicas.unam.mx/index.php/poder-estadounidense/[5] https://americafirstpolicy.com/issues/security/national-security-defense[6] https://www.france24.com/es/ee-uu-y-canad%C3%A1/20241126-el-america-first-policy-institute-una-discreta-m%C3%A1quina-de-combate-de-donald-trump[7] https://americafirstpolicy.com/centers/center-for-american-security[8] El poder duro se da cuando un país utiliza medios militares y económicos para influir en el comportamiento o los intereses de otras entidades políticas. Es una forma de poder político a menudo agresiva, es decir, que utiliza la coerción. Su eficacia es máxima cuando una entidad política la impone a otra de menor poder militar o económico. Fuente: https://www. jagranjosh.com/general-knowledge/what-isthe-difference-between-hard-power-and-softpower-1608095574-1[9] https://americafirstpolicy.com/centers/center-for-american-security[10] La tecnología persuasiva está concebida para permitir que los usuarios voluntariamente cambien sus actitudes o comportamientos por medio de la persuasión y la influencia social. Al igual que la tecnología de control, utiliza actuadores y un algoritmo de influencia para ofrecerle información eficaz al usuario. Fuente: https://osha.europa.eu/es/tools-and-resources/eu-osha-thesaurus/term/70213i#:~:text=Context:,ofrecerle%20informaci%C3%B3n%20eficaz%20al%20usuario[11] https://revistas.usfq.edu.ec/index.php/perdebate/article/view/1550/2661[12] Fuente: https://www.cipi.cu/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/1-elaynevalton.pdf[13] https://apnews.com/article/trump-canadagolfo-america-super-bowl-bret-baier-musk-cc8848639493d44770e60e4d125e5a62[14] Medidas Coercitivas Unilaterales.[15] Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, núm. 64, p. 7-28 References Colvin, J. (2025, 9 de febrero). Trump dice que habla en serio al afirmar que Canadá sea el estado 51 de EEUU. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/trump-canada-golfo-america-super-bowl-bret-baier-musk-cc8848639493d44770e60e4d125e5a62Corte, M. (2018, 7 de mayo). Análisis del ‘establishment’ estadounidense. Gaceta UNAM. https://gaceta.politicas.unam.mx/index.php/poder-estadounidense/Guendel Angulo, H. (2024). Escenarios de transición: De la geopolítica mundial unipolar a la multipolar. Revista Comunicación On-line. https://www.scielo.sa.cr/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1659-38202024000100120Palacio de Oteyza, V. (2003). La imagen imperial del nuevo orden internacional: ¿es esto realismo político? Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, (64), 7-28. https://www.cidob.org/publicaciones/la-imagen-imperial-del-nuevo-orden-internacional-es-esto-realismo-politicoSeibt, S. (2024, 26 de noviembre). El America First Policy Institute, una discreta máquina de "combate" de Donald Trump. France24. https://www.france24.com/es/ee-uu-y-canad%C3%A1/20241126-el-america-first-policy-institute-una-discreta-m%C3%A1quina-de-combate-de-donald-trumpTusa, F., & Durán, M. B. (2019). La era de la desinformación y de las noticias falsas en el ambiente político ecuatoriano de transición. Perdebate. https://revistas.usfq.edu.ec/index.php/perdebate/article/view/1550/2661Valton Legrá, E. (2022). La geopolítica de la tecnología: una visión sistémica. CIPI. https://www.cipi.cu/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/1-elaynevalton.pdfZelada Castedo, A. (2005). Perspectiva histórica del proceso de integración latinoamericana. Revista Ciencia y Cultura, (17), 113-120. Universidad Católica Boliviana San Pablo, La Paz, Bolivia.

Energy & Economics
The Belt and Road Initiative

Introduction to Special Issue: Belt and Road Initiative – 10 Years on

by Kerry Brown

Abstract It has been over a decade since the emergence of what is now best known as the “Belt and Road Initiative” (BRI). This Special Issue, a decade after the BRI was launched, highlights the immense complexity not only of the idea itself but also of China's global influence and the varied attitudes and responses towards it. We hope that these studies, with their diverse approaches and evidence bases, contribute to enriching the expanding literature on the BRI – a trend that is unlikely to wane anytime soon as China continues to be a major global force in the twenty-first century. It has now been over a decade since Xi Jinping first announced the “Silk Road Economic Belt” (丝绸之路经济带, sichou zhilu jingji dai) on land in Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, in September 2013. Later that year, in October, he also announced a new “twenty-first century Maritime Silk Road” (21世纪海上丝绸之路, ershiyi shiji haishang sichou zhilu) in Indonesia. These announcements marked the beginning of what is now best known as the “Belt and Road Initiative” (BRI; 一带一路, yidai yilu). For several years in the early first decade of the twenty-first century, as China's economy grew exponentially in size following its entry into the World Trade Organisation in 2001, there were increasing calls for the country to clarify its global ambitions now that it was a genuinely global economic power. The short-lived notion – around the period between 2003 and 2005 – of China enjoying a “peaceful rise” (和平崛起, heping jueqi) didn’t help much in this regard, with the US and others calling on Beijing to state more clearly its commitment not just to multilateral trade agreements and arrangements, but to their underpinning values (Glaser and Medeiros, 2007). Hu Jintao's presidency from 2002 to 2012 coincided with a period of spectacular gross domestic product (GDP) growth and diplomatic silence. When China did indeed surpass Japan as the world's second-largest economy in overall GDP terms in 2010, the need to clearly articulate its view on its global role became more urgent. Since Xi Jinping took power in 2012, the era of the “China Dream” (中国梦, zhongguo meng) and of “telling China's story well” (讲好中国故事, jianghao zhongguo gushi), both internally and externally, has finally begun (Wang and Feng, 2016; Xue Er Shi Xi, 2021). The BRI, therefore, was a core part of the messaging that the country was now engaged in. The initial policy document jointly issued by three ministries of the State Council in 2015 talked of connectivity, a zone of free trade, people-to-people links, and greater cultural communication, all of which were predicated on win–win outcomes (National Development and Reform Commission, Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Ministry of Commerce, 2015). That was met increasingly, however, with external criticisms, which ranged from the general vagueness attributed to the BRI to its role in creating indebted partner countries as well as the suspicion that this was about attempting to acquire power, rather than being a cooperative, constructive member of the international community (Perlez and Huang, 2017). Former US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, for instance, labelled the initiative something that did “harm” and framed it as the primary vehicle by which Beijing was extending its malign influence across the world to support authoritarianism and push back against democratic values (Murray-Atfield and Staff, 2020). With over a decade now in existence, this is a good time to reflect on and review what the BRI has meant to the world so far. In 2015, there was no real track record, beyond alluding to China's growing energy and economic interests in Africa, Latin America, and what became labelled as the “Global South.” Since then, a plethora of different treatments and studies have emerged, utilising various metrics, conceptual frameworks, and datasets (e.g. Garlick, 2020; Garlick and Havlová, 2020; Gerstl, 2020; Shakhanova and Garlick, 2020; Turcsanyi and Kachlikova, 2020; Vangeli, 2020). This Special Edition contributes to that literature with a set of contrasting approaches and geographical focuses regarding the BRI. This is a testament to the complexity of the phenomenon itself and its multidimensional character. The one thing that each contribution has, for all their differences, is a recognition of how complex the BRI is, and how it quickly evades straightforward frameworks and unilinear approaches. In Africa, as Ajah and Onuoha (2025) write in their study of Nigerian experiences with the BRI, the record shows that things are not as simple as to support the notion that China is using its newly acquired economic assets solely to assert its power in its own interests. Acknowledging the often critical analysis offered by subscribers to neocolonial, neo-realism and dependency prism theorists, they opt to use complex interdependence theory, stating that the BRI has “provided Nigeria with an opportunity to secure funds for rehabilitating and upgrading its railway infrastructure” (Ajah and Onuoha, 2025: 134). Based on detailed interviews and field research in the country, they show a situation in which the BRI, not just in railways, but in ports and airports, has “yielded tangible results in addressing Nigeria's infrastructural deficits” (Ajah and Onuoha, 2025: 137). That issue of tangibility is essential, with empirical data on both the amount Chinese partners have spent and the results they have achieved.  Recognising the issues around lack of transparency by Chinese partners at some points, and the problems around terms of funding and how these are negotiated and settled, the authors nonetheless conclude that the BRI offers Nigeria more opportunity than vulnerability, providing a cogent corrective to the blanket accusation of one-sided deals where “win–win” for China means that it gains twice. Comerma (2024) addresses the issue of values and frameworks in the differing context of the European Union, and in particular, how normative language emanating from the Chinese government appeared in the eighty Memoranda of Understanding (MOUs) issued between China and various European governments since 2018. To some, this was a clear attempt by China to gain validation more widely for its signature foreign policy initiative, and ultimately, for its own desire for influence, recognition, and status. It was linked, as Comerma argues, to a push for a form of soft power with Chinese characteristics, which was popular in the first decade of the twenty-first century and which lingered during the early Xi era. However, leaving aside those MOUs that were impossible to get hold of, in the two that she offers detailed analysis of – those with Italy and Hungary – the outcomes proved very different in the end. Despite adopting some of China's normative language, its soft power was limited, particularly with an audience that holds European values (Comerma, 2024: 242). As she concludes, even if governments did accept Chinese normative language, which overrode their subscription to market values and democratic principles, in implementation, things have not gone smoothly. This is further testified to by the fact that Italy allowed its agreement on the BRI to lapse in 2022. Lin's (2024) approach looks not at a region or territory and its experience and engagement with BRI, but at the issue of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR). As this article shows, China has shown interest not so much in soft power, but in what is labelled as “soft connectivity,” recognising that there were issues and responsibilities in terms of engagement and management of its overseas interests through the BRI that needed to be considered. As Lin writes, historically, China has “found itself at the receiving end of norms diffusion” (Lin, 2024: 154). With its own celebrated “Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence” adopted in the 1950s, China stands by a position of non-interference in the affairs of others. That should mean that its investments and engagements in the outside world do not seem to have overt social and political aims, despite the accusations made to the contrary by the country's critics. Lin argues that while China, of course, does not compromise on observing its own mode of doing things domestically, it has proven a “rational and pragmatic” actor externally (Lin, 2024: 172). In environmental issues, in particular, it has found at least a relatively non-contentious space by which to explore CSR-related actions in ways which are seen as mutually beneficial and acceptable, even as its stance on labour rights has been far fainter. The BRI land route was, as noted at the start of this introduction, initially announced in Kazakhstan. It is therefore timely that this volume includes a contribution by Primiano and Kudebayeva (2023) on how students at a university in Almaty view the BRI and Chinese influence generally. Their findings make sobering reading. Despite Central Asia being a key focus of BRI activity and often regarded as a region of largely positive relations with China, the views revealed through the surveys are largely negative and critical. Unsurprisingly, those with greater adherence to liberal and democratic values are the most critical of China, viewing the latter's investments as a threat to the country's oil and gas interests and displaying high levels of unease. At the same time, it is interesting and perhaps significant to note that the study also found a general lack of knowledge regarding the BRI and China's presence in Kazakhstan. Finally, shifting our attention to the sea, Schmitz (2024) offers an assessment of China's historical statecraft in the context of BRI, with a specific focus on the instrumentalisation of the Chinese notion of tianxia (天下, all under heaven) by the country's political and academic elites to narrate both China's past and present as a maritime power and legitimate its claims over various maritime territories. Drawing on textual materials sourced from the China National Knowledge Infrastructure, one of the largest databases of academic publications in the country, Schmitz analyses the resurrection of memories of the now-celebrated Ming-era eunuch admiral Zheng He, as well as the archaeological and historical records of Zheng's extensive explorations up to the coast of eastern Africa in the early fifteenth century. For Schmitz, the BRI embodies this expansive thinking of tianxia, which maps out a world where there are the “core region” and “surrounding, concentric zones of influence” (Schmitz, 2024: 215). Acknowledging that “[d]espite the ambitious narrative that frames it, in practice, BRI is a patchwork […],” Schmitz argues, the narrative of tianxia under the sea should be understood as “more than simply a strategy used to calm fears” (Schmitz, 2024: 214), but presenting a different notion of what international space might be, and of how, at least from China's perspective, it seeks to operate within that space. This Special Issue, a decade after the BRI appeared, shows the enormous complexity not only of the idea itself, but also of China's global influence and the range of attitudes and responses to it. That the contributions contain perspectives from Africa, Europe, Central Asia, and the Asian region itself proves how expansive the reach of the project is, as well as how many different issues, from values to CSR, notions of power and dependency, and intellectual frameworks, are involved with it. We hope that these studies, with their very different approaches and evidence bases, help to enrich the growing literature on the BRI – a trend that is unlikely to disappear anytime soon as China continues to be a global force in the twenty-first century. 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 iDsKerry Brown https://orcid.org/0000-0002-3472-2357Sinan Chu https://orcid.org/0000-0002-9518-1953ReferencesAjah Anthony Chinonso, Onuoha Jonah Isaac (2025) China’s Belt and Road Initiative and infrastructure development in Nigeria: unveiling a paradigm shift or repackaging of failed ventures? Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 119–148. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026251330645.Comerma Laia (2024) The normative influence of the Belt and Road Initiative in Europe. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 233–246. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026241277215.Garlick Jeremy (2020) The regional impacts of China’s Belt and Road Initiative. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 49(1): 3–13.Garlick Jeremy, Havlová Radka (2020) China’s “Belt and Road” economic diplomacy in the Persian Gulf: strategic hedging amidst Saudi–Iranian regional rivalry. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 49(1): 82–105.Gerstl Alfred (2020) Malaysia’s hedging strategy towards China under Mahathir Mohamad (2018–2020): direct engagement, limited balancing, and limited bandwagoning. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 49(1): 106–131.Glaser Bonnie S., Medeiros Evan S. (2007) The changing ecology of foreign policy-making in China: the ascension and demise of the theory of “peaceful rise.” The China Quarterly 190(June): 291–310.Lin Yue (2024) Evolving normative dynamics: understanding China’s varied approaches to overseas corporate social responsibility in the Belt and Road Initiative era. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 149–182. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026241283916.Murray-Atfield Yara, and Staff (2020) Ambassador intervenes after Mike Pompeo warns US could “disconnect” from Australia over Victoria’s Belt and Road deal. ABC News, 24 May. Available at: https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-05-24/mike-pompeo-warning-over-victoria-belt-and-road-deal/12280956 (accessed 01 July 2025).National Development and Reform Commission, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and Ministry of Commerce (2015) Vision and actions on jointly building Silk Road Economic Belt and 21st-Century Maritime Silk Road. Ministry of Foreign Affairs, People’s Republic of China. March. Available at: https://www.mfa.gov.cn/eng/zy/jj/2015zt/xjpcxbayzlt2015nnh/202406/t20240606_11381659.html (accessed 01 July 2025).Perlez Jane, Huang Yufan (2017) Behind China’s $1 trillion plan to shake up the economic order. The New York Times, 13 May. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/13/business/china-railway-one-belt-one-road-1-trillion-plan.html (accessed 01 July 2025).Primiano Christopher B., Kudebayeva Alma (2023) A bumpy ride for China’s Belt and Road Initiative in Kazakhstan: findings from a university survey. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 183–211. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026231211354.Schmitz Frederik (2024) Tianxia under the sea: China’s quest for maritime history. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 212–232. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026241283070.Shakhanova Gaziza, Garlick Jeremy (2020) The Belt and Road Initiative and the Eurasian Economic Union: exploring the “greater Eurasian partnership.” Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 49(1): 33–57.Turcsanyi Richard, Kachlikova Eva (2020) The BRI and China’s soft power in Europe: why Chinese narratives (initially) won. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 49(1): 58–81.Vangeli Anastas (2020) Belt and Road and China’s attempt at region building in central-east and southeast Europe. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 49(1): 14–32.Wang Long 王龙, and Dapeng Feng 冯大鹏 (2016) 关于 “中国梦”, 习近平总书记是这样描绘的 [General secretary Xi Jinping describes “China Dream” as such]. 新华网 [Xinhua Net], 29 November. Available at: http://www.xinhuanet.com//politics/2016-11/29/c_1120016588.htm (accessed 01 July 2025)Xue Er Shi Xi 学而时习 (2021) 习近平:讲好中国故事,传播好中国声音 [Xi Jinping: Tell China’s story well, spread China’s voice well]. 求是网 [QSTheory], 02 June. Available at: http://www.qstheory.cn/zhuanqu/2021-06/02/c_1127522386.htm (accessed 01 July 2025). 

Diplomacy
18th National Congress of the Communist Party of China

Leadership, Thought, and Succession in the CCP

by Jonathan Ping , Anna Hayes

As Xi Jinping tightens his grip on power amid economic headwinds and political uncertainty, questions of succession loom large. The path beyond Xi, marked by purges, rivalries, and competing visions for China’s future, remains shrouded in secrecy but carries global consequences. In October, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is scheduled to hold its annual plenary session where the Central Committee will meet to determine policy and the country’s general direction, including leadership. In China, the CCP and the leader hold immense, omnipotent power. The single-party state controls its population through SkyNet, a real-time urban surveillance system enforcing compliance; through the Great Firewall and Great Canon, which restrict information, encourage self-censorship, and spread disinformation; and through brutal oppression, particularly in remote regions such as Tibet and Xinjiang. At the top of the Party, the General Secretary imposes a narrative—leadership thought—often expressed as an aphorism. The leader’s thought guides behaviour and justifies sacrifices made for socialism. Mao Zedong’s anti-imperialist rhetoric and recasting of Marxism-Leninism devolved into a leadership cult, which ultimately resulted in the chaos of disrupted education and the madness of the Cultural Revolution. Subsequently, the Party attempted to limit the power of leaders by setting two-term limits. As leader, Deng Xiaoping prioritised economic reforms, famously asserting that the colour of a cat—its ideology—was irrelevant, so long as it could catch mice and function effectively in economic terms. While urging caution abroad under his “Hide and Bide” strategy (hide your strength, bide your time, never take the lead), he promoted bravery in domestic reform. His approach, expressed through the Chinese metaphor, “Cross the river by feeling for the stones,” was pragmatic, experimental, and gradualist. Jiang Zemin added his “Theory of Three Represents” to expand the Party’s base, while Hu Jintao emphasised a “Scientific Outlook for Development,” which aimed to reduce the widening inequalities within China to build a “Harmonious Socialist Society,” thereby lessening the chance for social conflicts to emerge. Within the leadership pantheon, the most consequential since Mao is Xi Jinping. Now 72 years old, Xi has enshrined his leadership role by removing the two-term limit and embedding his own thought— “Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era”—into the constitution. Xi’s thought is expansive and multifaceted, earning him the nickname “Chairman-of-Everything.” It is reinforced by the promise of fulfilling the “China Dream” of national rejuvenation: a long-held desire that China would reemerge as the global leader under a Sino-centric world order. Xi also side-stepped Deng’s “hide and bide” strategy, adopting a more assertive and aggressive foreign policy, believing China’s time had arrived. China’s economy is increasingly unstable, particularly in the property sector. Youth unemployment remains high, the Zero-Covid policy ended in failure, and the country is facing a demographic decline earlier than expected. More significantly, the leadership has retreated from consumption-led growth—a path that poses political risks Xi Jinping appears unwilling to confront. This shift has forced bankrupt provincial governments to sustain both real and superficial growth through the shadow economy and opaque financial instruments that merely circulate debt. These economic pressures are not just technical—they reflect deeper leadership challenges, raising questions about the resilience of Xi’s governance model, the fraying social contract between the Party and the people, and the viability of a fourth term for Xi amid growing internal and external scrutiny. At some point, China will have a new leader, but the path to that inevitable change is obscured and speculative. While Xi has not appointed a clear successor, discussions of potential replacements typically include Ding Xuexiang, Li Qiang, Cai Qi, Liu Jie, and, more recently, Wang Yang. Wang was Party Secretary of Guangdong and served as a member of the Politburo Standing Committee between 2017 and 2022. At 70 years old, he isn’t a young leader but has a reputation as a liberal reformer. Succession and the path to leadership in China can be difficult, if not horrific. Liu Shaoqi, who headed the PRC from 1959, was purged in 1968, publicly denounced, and beaten by Mao’s Red Guards before dying alone on a concrete floor. Xi was a member of the sent-down youth, experiencing the hardships of that time, and Deng was purged many times before his final rehabilitation, before becoming leader. Purge and renewal remain a Party tool for self-purification. For example, Bo Xilai was put on trial in 2011 shortly before his rival for power, Xi, took the leadership. Xi’s decades-long anti-corruption campaigns are widely viewed as purges of his political rivals, allowing him to cement his power. Of the more than 100 recently, Wang Renhua, Secretary of the Central Military Commission, Wang Chunning, Commander of the People’s Armed Police, and Zhang Jianchun, from the Central Propaganda Department, were caught up in Xi’s military purges. However, Xi’s Stalinist approach to purging, targeting allies and appointees alike, now leaves him in a precarious position. While the CCP leadership succession process has several negative elements, it does enable abrupt change and has built a leadership group with useful skill sets. China altered immensely from Mao to Deng and, subsequently, the world around it. Forty percent of new Politburo members since 2022 have a military-industrial background. These engineering skills and CCP dominance have shaped the Chinese domestic market, leading to global development prowess as the lead supplier of electric cars (70 percent of global production) and solar panels (exceeding 80 percent of global production). In comparison, most Ministers and Cabinet Members in the US and Australia have Law and Arts degrees. The question of what comes after Xi will have wide ranging implications. Given the trade war with the US, economic de-linking, and domestic turmoil, a Xi successor would attempt to quell and consolidate. The Party may seek short-term stability to consolidate Xi’s gains in the US conflict, awaiting the next US president, and focus on regional influence through soft power initiatives and structural power around the Nine-Dash Line and Taiwan. The new leader might echo the aphorism 固守阵地 (gù shǒu zhèn dì): “hold the fort” or “defend the position” as a basis for policy positions. Wang appears as likely a candidate as any. He holds a master’s in engineering, attended the Central Party School, and isn’t seen as a “rising star” but more of a seasoned politician.This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

Energy & Economics
Global business connection concept. Double exposure world map on capital financial city and trading graph background. Elements of this image furnished by NASA

Liaison countries as foreign trade bridge builders in the geo-economic turnaround

by Eva Willer

Introduction Geopolitical tensions are making global trade increasingly difficult. In order to reduce the associated risk of default, companies are shifting their trade relations to trading partners that are politically similar to them. In the course of the beginnings of geo-economic fragmentation, politically and economically like-minded countries are also gaining in importance for German and European decision-makers. Liaison countries1 in particular can form a counterforce to the trend towards polarization in foreign trade - especially between the USA and China: they are characterized by a pronounced economic and trade policy openness that overrides differences between geopolitical or ideological camps. Consequently, the question arises: How can relevant connecting countries for Germany and Europe be identified? What opportunities and risks do closer trade relations with these countries offer in order to strengthen foreign trade resilience in geopolitically uncertain times?  With a high degree of openness - defined as the sum of imports and exports in relation to gross domestic product - of over 80 percent2 , the German economy is strongly integrated into global trade. Accordingly, the disruptive effect of geo-economic fragmentation on the German economy would be above average. The defensive strategy to strengthen Germany's economic security by pushing for trade policy independence would only reinforce geo-economic fragmentation. Against the backdrop of comparatively high economic vulnerability, it is necessary to focus on those potential partner countries with which German and European foreign trade could be developed and expanded even under the condition of increasing fragmentation.  Geoeconomic Fragmentation  The term "geo-economic fragmentation" is used to describe the politically motivated reorganization of global goods and financial flows, in which strategic, economic and political interests primarily determine the choice of countries of origin and destination for trade flows.3 In the scenario of geo-economic fragmentation, the result would be the formation of a bloc within the global community of states, which would fundamentally change the regulatory structure of global economic networking. In this case, trade and investment would probably concentrate from a previously diverse range of economic partner countries - prior to the formation of the bloc - on those countries that now - since the formation of the bloc - belong to the same bloc.  The likelihood of this scenario occurring and leading to an increased fragmentation of the global economic order has increased again in the recent past. For example, Donald Trump's second term as US president is causing increasing geopolitical uncertainty worldwide.  Statements on the concrete form of a possible demarcation of potential blocs are subject to a great deal of uncertainty. However, the division of a large part of the global economy into a "US bloc" and a "China bloc" is a conceivable scenario for which German politics and business should prepare.  Data already shows that, at a global level, foreign trade openness has decreased in the recent past. Data from the World Trade Organization (WTO) illustrates the increasing hurdles in global trade in goods. While 3.1% of global imports were still affected by tariff or non-tariff barriers to trade in 2016 - including under WTO rules - this figure rose to 11.8% in 2024 over the following years.4 This development goes hand in hand with a noticeable loss of importance and enforcement of the WTO since the 2010s, which previously played a central role as the guardian of the rules-based global economic order.  Studies by the International Monetary Fund (IMF) have already found indications of an incipient geo-economic fragmentation along potential bloc borders. It shows that trade in goods and foreign direct investment between countries that would belong to the opposing camp in the event of a bloc formation declined on average in 2022 and 2023 - in contrast to foreign trade between countries that are geopolitically close.5  In this initial phase of geo-economic fragmentation, liaison countries are beginning to establish themselves as a counterforce, holding the fragmenting global community of states together with new trade and investment routes.  Identification of liaison countries Specifically, liaison countries have the following characteristics: a pronounced openness to foreign trade in the form of a high foreign trade quota and low tariff and non-tariff trade barriers, as well as pronounced economic relations with partner countries from different geopolitical camps. The geopolitical orientation of countries can be examined using data on voting behavior within the United Nations.6 This involves analyzing whether a country can be assigned to the US or Chinese camp - or whether there is no pronounced proximity and therefore political neutrality or "non-alignment" in the sense of ideological independence. The data-based identification of connecting countries is relatively new. Empirical analyses are also limited to connecting countries in the context of US-Chinese foreign trade - specifically US imports from China. In this case, the characteristics of a connecting country can be broken down into (1) "non-alignment" - i.e. a geopolitical distance to both a Western and an Eastern bloc - as well as (2) an increase in imports and foreign investment from China and (3) a simultaneous increase in exports to the United States. In a narrower sense, this is an evasive reaction to trade restrictions, i.e. circumventing trade. If the foreign trade indicators - specifically the trade and investment data relating to the US and China - of "non-aligned" countries for the period from 2017 to 2020 show corresponding characteristic-related changes compared to previous years, these can be identified as countries connecting the US and China.  The analysis of trade data shows that the value of direct exports from China to the USA fell during Donald Trump's first term in office. At the same time, both Chinese exports to some of the "non-aligned" countries and exports from these countries to the USA have increased significantly. These countries have presumably stepped in as a link on the export route from China to the US after the previously direct trade flow was interrupted by trade barriers and had to find a new route. Companies producing in China are therefore likely to have sought new, indirect ways to maintain access to the US sales market.  A certain statistical inaccuracy in the foreign trade data makes it difficult to draw a definitive conclusion in this context. It should be noted: No single commodity can be tracked across national borders in trade data collection. Whether the additional goods imported from China actually found their way to the United States can only be assumed approximately. However, if the trade flows are aggregated, a clearer picture emerges and the circumvention trade via selected connecting countries - including Vietnam and Mexico - becomes visible.  Data on foreign direct investment rounds off the analysis.7 "Non-aligned" countries in which an increase in Chinese investment can be seen between 2016 and 2020 in addition to trade flows can be identified as connecting countries. Here, too, available data suggests that the companies concerned either exported their goods to the United States via a stopover or even outsourced parts of their production destined for the US market to connecting countries. Five connecting countries between the US and China Based on the 2017-2020 study period, various connecting countries can be empirically identified that were used to indirectly maintain access to the US market. In terms of foreign trade volume, the economically most important connecting countries include Mexico, Vietnam, Poland, Morocco and Indonesia.8 All five countries are characterized by the fact that both their exports of goods to the US and their imports of goods from China increased significantly between 2017 and 2020. In addition, greenfield investments (foreign direct investment to set up a new production facility) have risen significantly compared to the period before 2017.  However, the five countries show different priorities in their development, which differentiate them in their role as connecting countries between the USA and China. In Vietnam, exports to the USA in particular have risen sharply. China has been the most important procurement market for Vietnamese companies for years. Poland, Mexico and Indonesia are characterized as connecting countries primarily by the significant increase in imports from China. Morocco, in turn, was able to attract more Chinese foreign investment in particular. Greenfield investments have almost tripled here since 2017. However, Poland - a rather surprising candidate for the role of liaison country, as it is intuitively assigned to the US-oriented bloc - is positioned fairly centrally between the US and China according to the analysis of voting behavior within the United Nations9. In addition, Poland qualifies primarily due to the sharp rise in greenfield investments from China, primarily in the expansion of domestic battery production.10  It cannot be concluded from the previous studies on the USA and China whether German companies are also circumventing trade barriers from the USA via the countries identified. As the trade policy conflicts between the US and China differ significantly from those between the EU and China, there has been a lack of comparable empirical data to analyze connecting countries in the EU context. Opportunities and challenges As the German economy is strongly oriented towards foreign trade and is closely networked with both the USA and China, German companies play a particularly exposed role in the area of tension between the USA and China. Increased economic exchange with potential connecting countries would offer German companies an opportunity to mitigate the expected shock of a geopolitical bloc. They could at least maintain international trade to a certain extent and thus secure some of the endangered sales and procurement markets. On the other hand, there are also costs associated with expanding foreign trade relations with potential connecting countries. The greater complexity also increases the risk in the value chains. Companies that position themselves wisely within this trade-off buy themselves valuable time in the event of a shock to reorganize themselves against the backdrop of changed foreign trade conditions.  From the perspective of foreign trade policy, it is also possible to examine the extent to which stronger foreign trade cooperation with (potential) connecting countries could have advantages. The trade-off between resilience and complexity must then be assessed at a macroeconomic level, beyond individual company interests. In order to make it easier for companies to connect to potential connecting countries and to create appropriate framework conditions, German and European policy can build on existing comprehensive strategies at national and European level. Both the China Strategy11 and the National Security Strategy12 focus foreign policy on connecting countries as part of a stronger economic and political risk diversification. There is also a similar framework at European level with the EU's Strategic Compass13 . Following on from this, the German government could create targeted incentives to open up new markets in liaison countries, which would diversify critical supply chains and reduce one-sided dependencies.  At the same time, connecting countries pose a challenge. These can be used to circumvent foreign trade measures such as sanctions if flows of goods can find alternative routes via connecting countries more easily than before.  In order to realize opportunities and overcome challenges, close cooperation between science, politics and companies is required. This first requires the identification of a selection of potential connecting countries through scientifically sound analysis. This creates the basis for the subsequent steps in which European and German policymakers work closely with companies to create attractive framework conditions for trade with potential connecting countries - for example through bilateral trade agreements.  Attractive foreign trade framework conditions can create the necessary incentive to actually expand trade relations with potential connecting countries. Companies need to weigh up individual cases and make forward-looking decisions: To what extent is there a risk of a loss of production triggered by geopolitical conflicts? And how much would the complexity of the value chain increase if more potential connecting countries were included? Ultimately, the actual choice of preferred sales and procurement markets lies with the individual companies. LicenseThis work is licensed under CC BY 4.0 References1. Verbindungsländer werden im Sinne von Connectors verstanden, vgl. Gita Gopinath/Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas/Andrea F Presbitero/Petia Topalova, Changing Global Linkages: A New Cold War?, Washington, D.C.: IMF, April 2024 (IMF Working Paper) <https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/WP/Issues/2024/04/05/Changing-Global-Linkages-A-New-ColdWar-547357/>. 2. Statistisches Bundesamt (Destatis), Außenwirtschaft. 2025, <https://www.destatis.de/DE/Themen/Wirtschaft/Globalisierungsindikatoren/aussenwirtschaft.html#246 078/>.  3. Shekahar Aiyar/Franziska Ohnsorge, Geoeconomic Fragmentation and ‚Connector’ Countries, Online verfügbar unter:  <https://mpra.ub.uni-muenchen.de/121726/1/MPRA_paper_121726.pdf>.4. WTO, WTO Trade Monitoring Report, Genf, November 2024, <https://www.wto.org/english/tratop_e/tpr_e/factsheet_dec24_e.pdf/>. 5. Gita Gopinath/Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas/Andrea F Presbitero/Petia Topalova, Changing Global Linkages: A New Cold War?, Washington, D.C.: IMF, April 2024 (IMF Working Paper) <https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/WP/Issues/2024/04/05/Changing-Global-Linkages-A-New-ColdWar-547357/>.  6. Michael A. Bailey/Anton Strezhnev/Erik Voeten, »Estimating Dynamic State Preferences from United Nations Voting Data«, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 61 (2017) 2, S. 430-456, <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0022002715595700/>.7. Gita Gopinath/Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas/Andrea F Presbitero/Petia Topalova, Changing Global Linkages: A New Cold War?, Washington, D.C.: IMF, April 2024 (IMF Working Paper) <https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/WP/Issues/2024/04/05/Changing-Global-Linkages-A-New-ColdWar-547357/>. War-547357. 8. Enda Curran/Shawn Donnan/Maeva Cousin, »These Five Countries are Key Economic ‚Connectors‘ in a Fragmenting World«, in Bloomberg (online), 1.11.2023, <https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-1102/vietnam-poland-mexico-morocco-benefit-from-us-china-tensions/>.9. Michael A. Bailey/Anton Strezhnev/Erik Voeten, »Estimating Dynamic State Preferences from United Nations Voting Data«, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 61 (2017) 2, S. 430-456, <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0022002715595700/>.  10. Enda Curran/Shawn Donnan/Maeva Cousin, »These Five Countries are Key Economic ‚Connectors‘ in a Fragmenting World«, in Bloomberg (online), 1.11.2023, <https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/202311-02/vietnam-poland-mexico-morocco-benefit-from-us-china-tensions/>.11. Auswärtiges Amt, China‐Strategie der Bundesregierung, Berlin, Juli 2023, <https://www.auswaertigesamt.de/resource/blob/2608578/810fdade376b1467f20bdb697b2acd58/china-strategie-data.pdf/>.  12. Auswärtiges Amt, Integrierte Sicherheit für Deutschland: Nationale Sicherheitsstrategie, Berlin, Juni 2023, <https://www.bmvg.de/resource/blob/5636374/38287252c5442b786ac5d0036ebb237b/nationalesicherheitsstrategie-data.pdf/>.  13. Rat der Europäischen Union, Ein Strategischer Kompass für Sicherheit und Verteidigung, Brüssel, März 2022, <https://data.consilium.europa.eu/doc/document/ST-7371-2022-INIT/de/pdf/>.

Diplomacy
Kim and Trump shaking hands at the red carpet during the DPRK–USA Singapore Summit 2018

Democratic People's Republic of Korea and Trump 2.0: Another cycle with new attributes?

by Jesús de los Ángeles Aise Sotolongo

Abstract Never before had a sitting U.S. president managed relations with the DPRK as Donald Trump did, nor had any leader from Pyongyang sat face-to-face with a sitting U.S. president during their term as Kim Jong Un did. With Trump’s potential return, could there be another cycle of rapprochement? This paper seeks to address this question. The failure of the previous negotiating cycle, the DPRK’s advances in deterrence, and shifts in peninsular, regional, and global circumstances suggest that both leaders might bring new attributes to their interactions, potentially yielding surprising outcomes Introduction Except for a few moments of rapprochement, since the founding of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), U.S. administrations have maneuvered with various forms and methods to destabilize its political and economic system. And since Pyongyang decided to develop nuclear weapons, Washington has labeled them illegal, demanding that they be abandoned, sponsoring United Nations Security Council (UNSC) sanctions, and implementing strict unilateral penalties. Meanwhile, successive DPRK leaders have persevered in a military doctrine based on the development of nuclear deterrence to guarantee national defense and security. Nevertheless, an unprecedented moment that broke with that persistent circumstance took place during Donald Trump’s previous term, when the relationship shifted from “fire and fury” to successive summits with Kim Jong Un in 2018 and 2019, in Singapore, Hanoi, and Panmunjom. The exchange of insults — Trump calling Kim “little rocket man” and Kim referring to Trump as a “dotard” — mutated into their approaching one another as “pen pals.” This surprising shift in U.S. policy toward the DPRK temporarily, though without the expected results, loosened the “Korean Gordian knot.” No U.S. president has managed relations with the DPRK as Donald Trump did, and in history, no North Korean leader had ever stood face-to-face, on equal footing, with a sitting U.S. president as Kim Jong Un did. Former President Barack Obama delivered several appealing speeches, but he seemed weak to many countries in East Asia, including U.S. allies and partners. For eight years, he did nothing about North Korea, calling it “strategic patience.” This eroded deterrence and allowed Pyongyang to advance its weapons and nuclear programs (Kausikan, 2025). For his part, at the beginning of his term, Joe Biden announced a “new strategy” toward the DPRK that never materialized; he pleaded for dialogue with Kim Jong Un while simultaneously increasing war threats; he grouped China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea into an ideological category that resurrected the Bush-era notion of the “axis of evil.” Biden’s simplistic binary categorization was not a policy. It ignored the differences in how these four countries define their interests, the degree of integration into the global economy, and the scope of their ambitions. These differences should be the starting point for U.S. diplomacy toward North Korea (Kausikan, 2025). The purpose of this article is to examine the circumstances, obstacles, and expectations for a new cycle of negotiations between Washington and Pyongyang with Donald Trump’s return to the U.S. presidency. Development This second term of President Donald Trump, more transactional and less predictable, seems to be raising expectations of reducing confrontational stress on the Korean Peninsula, and everything indicates that it brings with it a modification of Washington’s policy toward the DPRK. This is conditioned by the following radical changes in strategic circumstances compared to his previous term: DPRK’s nuclear and missile programs have undergone new and sophisticated advances. The DPRK has broken all ties and symbols of its relations with the Republic of Korea, which it classifies as its “principal and unchanging enemy.” Declaring that it has no intention of avoiding war, it has instructed the Korean People’s Army to accelerate preparations to “occupy, subdue, and completely reclaim” South Korea. There has been a tightening of ties between Pyongyang and Moscow. The two Kim Jong Un–Vladimir Putin summits, and Kim’s reference to Putin as his “closest comrade,” have shown the very high level of understanding and commitment between the parties. This is reflected in the DPRK’s unrestricted support for Russia’s special military operation in Ukraine and the signing of a Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Treaty, ratified by both legislatures, which includes a “mutual military assistance” clause. Meanwhile, Russia supports the DPRK diplomatically and economically, opposing multilateral and unilateral sanctions, and expanding its exports — essentially oil, raw materials, and food — as well as providing assistance in various fields. An emerging anti-U.S. and anti-Western axis has been taking shape among China, Russia, the DPRK, and Iran, which has become so significant that Washington and its allies describe it as a “new axis.” Within this interconnection, the DPRK holds important advantages in three strategic dimensions: economic, military, and diplomatic. The removal of President Yoon Suk Yeol over his irresponsible Martial Law is reinforcing the possibility of a new government led by the Democratic Party, with Lee Jae Myung as the clear favorite and, as of today, more likely to win. [1] This would open the door to a revival of North–South détente reminiscent of the Moon Jae In era. Trump’s foreign policy objectives are based on his “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) vision — now reinforced — which prioritizes U.S. strategic and economic interests over traditional alliance commitments (e.g., South Korea and Japan). At least these six factors seem to be significantly influencing Donald Trump’s decision to return to diplomacy with Kim Jong Un. While the DPRK occupies a relatively lower position on Trump’s list of priorities (with China and the Russia–Ukraine conflict taking precedence), and dialogue does not appear imminent, he has made it clear that he would like to reconnect with Kim Jong Un, seems willing to reopen negotiations, and is evaluating and discussing possible avenues of interaction that could lay the groundwork for a potential summit. It is said that Washington has been holding discreet conversations with Pyongyang, consulting external experts, and considering options to potentially restart dialogue. Meanwhile, Kim Jong Un — clearly more assertive and militarily more powerful in Washington’s eyes — has not publicly shown any willingness to renew his earlier offers related to denuclearization. In his own words: “the DPRK’s nuclearization is non-negotiable,” and he continues to exert pressure by showcasing the country’s missile–nuclear power. This has been illustrated unequivocally and consistently when Kim Jong Un visited nuclear material production facilities and the Nuclear Weapons Institute (NWI) in September 2024 and January 2025. For the DPRK, survival is an existential matter, and Pyongyang considers its nuclear–missile programs absolutely indispensable to secure it; there is nothing we can see that would persuade or force it to renounce them, as that would imply regime change. Everything indicates that the U.S. president is aware that his counterpart has not yet overcome the discouragement caused by the failure of the previous negotiation process, and for that reason, he is sending increasingly precise messages about the possibility of renewed talks, while boasting of his personal relationship with Kim Jong Un. At the same time, however, Pyongyang continues to issue contradictory signals of distrust toward Washington, in response to the confrontational attitude and the increasingly close military and intelligence ties with the DPRK’s immediate neighbors. It is worth noting that, this past February, the U.S. sent a nuclear submarine and several B-1B bombers to South Korea; U.S. military forces carried out multiple war exercises, including live-fire drills along the Demilitarized Zone, as well as heavy bombing maneuvers and even space force operations. In March, a large-scale scheduled exercise took place—70 percent larger than the one held the previous year. Nevertheless, it appears that by the end of 2024 the DPRK leadership decided to create a certain margin of diplomatic maneuver in anticipation of the incoming Trump administration. The coverage given to Trump’s inauguration on January 22 marked a shift from Pyongyang’s initial decision to remain silent on the outcome of the U.S. presidential elections in November. Moreover, this information was published in media outlets aimed at both domestic and international audiences, suggesting that North Korea has begun preparing its people for a new approach to Trump, when appropriate. Despite the steady flow of official statements and media commentary criticizing the United States, anti-American rhetoric has become somewhat less intense. Notably, the use of the expression “U.S. imperialists” has significantly decreased since then. This is also true of Kim’s public statements, which are considered the most authoritative in North Korea. For example, Kim’s speech at the Ministry of Defence on February 8 was the harshest and most detailed on the United States since his speech at a national defence exhibition in November 2024. However, unlike in many of his previous speeches at defence-related venues or events, he did not use derogatory terms such as “U.S. imperialists.” In fact, the last reported use by Kim of the term “U.S. imperialists” was in his defence exhibition speech last November. While there has been a rise in criticism of the United States since early February, as demonstrated by a series of “KCNA commentaries,” the broader trend since December still holds. The media have refrained from mentioning Trump by name, even when criticizing U.S. statements or actions. When issuing criticism, they have only referred to “the new U.S. administration,” “the current administration,” or the “U.S. ruler.” KCNA’s commentary on February 12 regarding the Gaza Strip, for example, blamed the “current U.S. administration” for the plan to take control of Gaza, omitting Trump’s name. All these articles were published in outlets aimed at domestic audiences, likely because they addressed foreign policy issues not directly relevant to North Korea. In contrast, the North Korean Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ criticism of Rubio’s statement about the “rogue state” was only published on external websites and not disseminated to the domestic audience. This allowed Pyongyang to register its rejection of the statement to external audiences while controlling the narrative about the Trump administration at home. Pyongyang also appears to be creating diplomatic space by attempting to influence Washington’s thinking while it awaits the new Trump administration’s policy toward North Korea. Its Ministry of Defence stated that the United States was “openly ignoring the DPRK’s security concerns” in reference to a U.S. nuclear-powered submarine that entered a South Korean port — an unusually direct accusation that the United States “ignores” its security concerns. If we consider the reverse side of this message (do not ignore North Korea’s security concerns), it is in fact a call from Pyongyang to the new administration to take its “security concerns” into account in its policy toward North Korea (Minyoung Lee, 2025). We can therefore see some Trumpist signals that could prove attractive to Pyongyang’s leadership: Repeated references by the U.S. president, describing the DPRK as a “nuclear power,” a concept recently reinforced when he qualified it as a “great nuclear power.” It is noteworthy that very recently U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio used the expression “nuclear-armed state” to refer to the DPRK, implicitly admitting Pyongyang’s possession of nuclear weapons. This comment suggests that the U.S. is unofficially considering the DPRK as a nuclear-armed nation, just as it does with India, Pakistan, and Israel. There are signs of a strategic shift aimed at overcoming deadlock and building trust by moving from denuclearization as the priority toward nuclear security. In other words, instead of demanding denuclearization, the focus would be on improving the safety of nuclear facilities — such as preventing accidents, leaks, or proliferation risks to third countries — through active bilateral technical cooperation that aligns reciprocal interests. The decisions that have shaken the peninsular geopolitical context and the Washington–Seoul alliance, when the U.S. classified South Korea as a “sensitive country,” as well as the so-called “strategic flexibility” that “modifies the mission of U.S. Forces Korea (USFK).” It is true that many officials in the Trump administration continue to officially reiterate their commitment to the DPRK’s denuclearization. However, statements by the U.S. president and his Secretary of State suggest that they recognize North Korea as a nuclear-armed state, generating a dual reaction: on one hand, surprise at an abrupt shift in policy toward the DPRK’s nuclearization, and on the other, uncertainty about what would happen to the security concerns of its allies — South Korea and Japan — as well as those of the U.S. itself. It should be noted that Trump stated — no less than in front of NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte — that he intended to re-establish relations with Kim Jong Un, that “he would do it,” that he has “…an excellent relationship with Kim Jong Un and we’ll see what happens.” And he declared: “But without a doubt, it is a nuclear power.” In that same setting, Trump also mentioned that India and Pakistan possessed nuclear weapons, effectively recognizing them as de facto nuclear-armed states, adding that Kim Jong Un “possesses numerous nuclear weapons” and that “others possess them as well.” Therefore, the statements by Trump and Rubio that tacitly recognize the DPRK as a “nuclear power” indicate a shift in Washington’s policy toward Pyongyang. It seems that interactions between the DPRK and the U.S. are moving toward a turning point: from denuclearization as the priority to nuclear security — a strategic change in U.S. policy aimed at overcoming deadlock and establishing trust, as a preliminary step toward a possible peace treaty. The repeated reference by U.S. President Donald Trump to the DPRK as a nuclear power could be an effort to draw Pyongyang back to the negotiating table, since North Korea seeks de facto recognition by the U.S. as a nuclear-armed state. Trump seems to be maintaining the perspective that the next negotiation should focus on reducing threats rather than denuclearization, despite his stated pursuit of “complete denuclearization.” Everything suggests that Trump is emphasizing the evident reality of Pyongyang’s progress in its nuclear program. It can also be considered that Trump’s remarks may imply that, as a result of the failure of his summit efforts to reach an agreement with Kim Jong Un to halt North Korea’s nuclear program, he may now be encouraging the consideration of an alternative strategy. However, Pyongyang is publicly and incessantly rejecting Trump’s attempts to restart dialogue; this stance has much to do with the recent history of U.S. negotiations and the president’s insufficient reciprocity to the concrete measures proposed by Kim Jong Un. In addition to the above, it is worth highlighting the latest developments that have shaken the peninsular geopolitical context and the Washington–Seoul alliance, which could, to some extent, influence a shift in Pyongyang’s perception and lead it to accept talks with Washington. We refer to the classification of South Korea as a “sensitive country” and the idea of “modifying the mission of U.S. Forces Korea (USFK).” The U.S. Department of Energy (DOE) designated South Korea as a “sensitive country,” a classification that significantly restricts collaboration in areas of advanced technology, including nuclear energy, artificial intelligence, quantum science, and advanced computing. This measure, which took effect on April 15, subjects South Korean researchers to stricter controls for collaborating or participating in research at DOE facilities or research centers and marks the first time South Korea has received such a designation from the U.S. government. In this regard, the “sensitive country” classification is based on unilateral criteria such as national security, nuclear non-proliferation, regional instability, threats to economic security, and alleged support for terrorism. This list, maintained by the DOE’s Office of Intelligence and Counterintelligence (OICI) along with the National Nuclear Security Administration (NNSA), already included countries such as India, Israel, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and Taiwan. Additionally, North Korea and Iran are designated as “state sponsors of terrorism,” while China and Russia are considered “countries of concern.” Such a designation suggests that the U.S. has growing concerns about the increasing voices among South Korean academics, politicians, and citizens who support the development of domestic nuclear weapons. Recent surveys reveal that popular support for nuclear armament has reached between 60% and 70%, apparently stemming from the belief that South Korea must take a bold defensive measure against North Korea’s growing nuclear threats. Although some who favor this idea believe that President Donald Trump’s skeptical view of alliances — focused on reducing the financial burden of protecting U.S. allies — might allow Seoul to develop nuclear weapons and thus reduce Washington’s responsibilities on the Korean Peninsula, the likelihood of this happening remains slim. However, the debate will not disappear in the short term due to growing skepticism about the so-called U.S. “extended deterrence,” which relies only on the deployment of strategic assets in the South of the peninsula. In the meantime, the DPRK is very likely to feel satisfied, as it sees its long-standing desire fulfilled: to witness cracks in the Washington–Seoul alliance. Another decision that would benefit the DPRK under the so-called “strategic flexibility” is the projection that the Trump administration may deploy U.S. troops stationed in South Korea in the event of a conflict in the Taiwan Strait, following the circulation of a purported Pentagon memorandum detailing its objective of deterring China from occupying Taiwan. As is well known, the primary mission of the 28,500 U.S. troops in South Korea is to deter threats from the DPRK. Should this decision materialize, their mission would then shift to countering China, considered a key component of the current administration’s foreign policy. This would create a security vacuum for Seoul and further strain its relations with Beijing. In such a circumstance, the Trump administration could pressure South Korea to handle conventional military actions from the DPRK independently, with the U.S. intervening only in the case of nuclear threats. Therefore, the best option for Seoul is to significantly strengthen its defensive capabilities, preparing for a scenario in which U.S. troops are not involved in a conventional war with the DPRK. The notion of “strategic flexibility” for the USFK reflects a shift in the main mission of U.S. forces abroad, moving from the defense of nations through their permanent presence to rapid deployment in other parts of the world where conflicts arise. As expected, unease is growing in Seoul in the face of Pyongyang’s increasing assertiveness, while the latter shows greater defiance. First, due to the possibility that Trump’s second administration may divert part of the USFK’s resources to a conflict in the Taiwan Strait, which would leave South Korea more vulnerable. Second, because South Korea is currently in open political turmoil over the impeachment of President Yoon Suk Yeol, and everything seems to indicate that the so-called South Korean democracy has failed to demonstrate itself as reliable in the eyes of Trump and his team. It is worth mentioning what Moon Chung In, emeritus professor at Yonsei University, stated in his most recent book, titled “Why American Diplomacy Fails”. The expert describes North Korea’s nuclear problem as an illustrative failure of U.S. diplomacy. His remarks are eloquent when he says: “In my conversations with members of the Trump administration during my trip to America, I had the impression that they firmly feel that Korea [South Korea] has been getting a free ride [on U.S. security] for far too long. South Korea’s excessive dependence on the United States could have serious consequences. The Korean government needs to develop autonomous strategic thinking. It needs to explore creative contingency plans for the worst-case scenario of a U.S. absence from the Korean peninsula.” We can see that Trump’s return is testing diplomatic limits and fueling a key question: Will Trump’s return to the White House open another cycle of engagement with Kim Jong Un, but with new attributes? The U.S. president always highlights his good personal relationship with the DPRK leader, something that, undoubtedly, could have a positive effect. But, as of today, Pyongyang seems to lack incentives to negotiate with Washington for four essential reasons: Military, it has achieved significant advances in its conventional weapons programs, strategic missiles, and nuclear arms, which provide it with a high deterrent capability. Economically, even under heavy sanctions, it is experiencing moments of economic expansion, it has made progress in import substitution, its local industry is reviving, and infrastructure construction is in full development. This makes negotiating the lifting of sanctions, in general and with Washington in particular, less urgent for Pyongyang. Its willingness to take political risks in exchange for economic benefits has clearly diminished. Geostrategically, its military alliance with Russia may generate new revenues, transfers of military technology, practical experience in modern warfare, and weaken the international sanctions regime. Geopolitically, the world is entering a period of dynamic geopolitical realignment that could eventually result in a multipolar order. The DPRK seems well positioned due to its ties with two key actors in the multipolarization process: Russia and China. At the same time, it observes the disruption of the traditional alliance structure with the United States and sees Washington distancing itself from its main allies, who are also DPRK’s adversaries in East Asia. Therefore, it appears willing to watch the evolution of events and their outcome. Donald Trump has stated that his administration has opened a line of communication with the DPRK and considered that, at some point, “something will probably happen,” emphasizing: “There is communication. I have a very good relationship with Kim Jong Un… I get along wonderfully with him… I think it is very important. It is a ‘great nuclear nation,’ and he is a ‘very smart guy.’ I got to know him very well… We will probably do something at some point.” It cannot be ruled out in this analysis that the DPRK is doubly leveraged. On one hand, with stable trade with China; on the other, with Russia’s reciprocity for its declared and materially sustained support for Russia’s special military operation in Ukraine. Therefore, additional incentives directly linked to DPRK’s comprehensive security must emerge. If the U.S. were to formally recognize the DPRK as a “de facto nuclear power,” which would represent a radical change in U.S. strategy, the prospect of future negotiations focused on threat reduction rather than denuclearization would open up. Despite Trump’s flattering words and the expectations they raise, it is not clear whether the U.S. president would be able to secure internal consensus within his administration to make such a decision without major obstacles, and, at the same time, manage to mitigate the suspicion and animosity of Kim Jong Un and the leadership around him. Conclusions The viability of negotiations between the U.S. and the DPRK under Trump’s new government remains uncertain, but it is possible that Trump will pursue a new “diplomatic victory” — similar to his 2018 Singapore summit with Kim Jong Un — through an alternative strategy that bilaterally satisfies Pyongyang’s aspiration to be recognized as a de facto nuclear state. However, it is unlikely that the international community would accept the U.S. unilaterally recognizing the DPRK as a nuclear-armed state. According to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), a vote by the UN Security Council would be required, where the United Kingdom and France would surely veto it; and if it were brought to the General Assembly as a resolution, the number of opposing votes would probably be a majority. It is worth noting that the DPRK is doubly leveraged: it has stable trade with China and reciprocity from Russia for its material support, in addition to enjoying the diplomatic backing of both powers. Given its persistent distrust of Washington, it is to be expected that Pyongyang will maintain its close coordination with Beijing and Moscow and use it to strengthen its position vis-à-vis Washington. Thus, for the time being, it is not clear whether the U.S. president will be able to mitigate the suspicion and animosity of Kim Jong Un and the leadership surrounding him. Notes[1] Lee Jae Myung was elected as president of the Republic of Korea after the June 3rd, 2025 elections. References Aise Sotolongo, J. (2025). Return of Donald Trump: Continuity or change with the DPRK? World and New World Journal. https://worldnewworld.com/page/content.php?no=4082Chan-kyong, P. (2025, 12 de marzo). Kim Jong Un seeks negotiating leverage over Trump's new nuclear demands, analysts say. South China Morning Post. https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/politics/article/3296722/kim-jong-un-seeks-negotiating-leverage-over-trump-new-nuclear-demands-analystsChung-in, M. (2025, 15 de febrero). It's time Korea prepares itself for a peninsula without the US, expert advises. The Korea Herald. https://m.koreaherald.com/article/10455463Depetris, D. R. (2025, 9 de abril). Kim Jong Un is watching Trump's Ukraine diplomacy with interest. 38 North. https://www.38north.org/2025/04/kim-jong-un-iswatching-trump-ukranie-diplomacy-with-interestEFE. (2025a, 10 de enero). Pionyang dice que sus armas nucleares no son moneda de cambio para negociar. Swissinfo. https://www.swissinfo.ch/spa/pionyangdice-que-sus-armas-nucleares-no-son-moneda-decambio-para-negociar/88844909EFE. (2025b, 22 de marzo). Washington, Seúl y Tokio reafirman su compromiso para desnuclearizar a Corea del Norte. Swissinfo. https://www.swissinfo.ch/spa/washington%2C-se%C3%BAl-y-tokio-reafirman-su-compromiso-para-desnuclearizar-a-corea-del-norte/88881832EM Redacción. (2025, 12 de marzo). Estados Unidos califica a Corea del Sur como un "país sensible", limitando la cooperación en tecnología avanzada. Escenario Mundial. https://www.escenariomundial.com/2025/03/12/estados-unidos-califica-a-corea-del-sur-como-un-pais-sensible-limitando-la-cooperacion-en-tecnologia-avanzada/KBS WORLD. (2025, 5 de febrero). Seúl y Washington acuerdan limitar el término "desnuclearización" a Corea del Norte y no a toda la península. http://world.kbs.co.kr/service/news_view.htm?lang=s&Seq_Code=92262Kipiahov, O. (2025, 9 de febrero). Rossiian vstrechaiut s ulybkami posol RF v KNDR rasskazal kak zhivet severnaia koreia. Rossiyskaya Gazeta. https://rg.ru/2025/02/09/rossiian-vstrechaiut-s-ulybkami-posol-rf-v-kndr-rasskazal-kak-zhivet-severnaia-koreia.htmlKYODO NEWS. (2025, 18 de marzo). China eyes teaming up with Japan, South Korea to denuclearize N. Korea. https://english.kyodonews.net/news/2025/03/c5e26b7d5347-htmlLankov, A. (2025, 9 de febrero). Trump’s North Korea nuclear diplomacy: Between bad and worse. Asialink Diplomacy. https://asialink.unimelb.edu.au/diplomacy/article/trump-north-korea-diplomacy-between-bab-and-worse/McCartney, M. (2025, 17 de abril). Trump plans to disarm North Korea, but Kim wants more nuclear weapons. Newsweek. https://www.newsweek.com/us-north-korea-kim-jong-un-donald-trump-nuclear-weapons-2022678Minyoung Lee, R. (2025, 25 de abril). North Korea leaving maneuvering room with the US while preparing for long-term confrontation. 38 North. https://www.38north.org/2025/04/noth-koreas-acknowledgement-of-war-participation/Reddy, S. (2025, 9 de febrero). Russian envoy to DPRK says Moscow welcomes talks between US and North Korea. NK News. https://www.nknews.org/2025/02/russian-envoy-to-dprk-says-moscow-welcomestalks-between-us-and-north-korea/Sneider, D. (2025, 3 de abril). Is North Korea the next target of Trump’s search for a deal? Keia. https://wwwkeia.org/2025/04/north-korea-the-netx-target-oftrmps-search-for-a-deal/Sputnik. (2025, 31 de marzo). Trump valora su relación con líder norcoreano Kim Jong Un y planea un eventual contacto. El País CR. https://www.elpais.cr/2025/03/31/trump-valora-su-relacion-con-lidernorcoreano-kim-jong-un-y-planea-un-eventual-contacto/YONHAP. (2025, 8 de marzo). Trump appears to use 'nuclear power' label to lure N. Korea to dialogue: US expert. The Korea Times. https://m.koreatimes.co.kr/pages/article.asp?newsIdx=394200

Defense & Security
LNG plant based on gravity type with a gas carrier. The Arctic LNG-2 project. Utrennoye deposit, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Region, Russia. 3d rendering

Securing the ‘great white shield’? Climate change, Arctic security and the geopolitics of solar geoengineering

by Nikolaj Kornbech , Olaf Corry , Duncan McLaren

Abstract The Arctic has been identified by scientists as a relatively promising venue for controversial ‘solar geoengineering’ – technical schemes to reflect more sunlight to counteract global warming. Yet contemporary regional security dynamics and the relative (in)significance of climate concerns among the key Arctic states suggest a different conclusion. By systematically juxtaposing recently published schemes for Arctic geoengineering with Arctic security strategies published by the littoral Arctic states and China, we reveal and detail two conflicting security imaginaries. Geoengineering schemes scientifically securitise (and seek to maintain) the Arctic’s ‘great white shield’ to protect ‘global’ humanity against climate tipping points and invoke a past era of Arctic ‘exceptionality’ to suggest greater political feasibility for research interventions here. Meanwhile, state security imaginaries understand the contemporary Arctic as an increasingly contested region of considerable geopolitical peril and economic opportunity as temperatures rise. Alongside the entangled history of science with geopolitics in the region, this suggests that geoengineering schemes in the Arctic are unlikely to follow scientific visions, and unless co-opted into competitive, extractivist state security imaginaries, may prove entirely infeasible. Moreover, if the Arctic is the ‘best-case’ for geoengineering politics, this places a huge question mark over the feasibility of other, more global prospects. Introduction ‘The Arctic region plays a key role in the global climate system acting as a carbon sink and a virtual mirror’ (Carnegie Climate Governance Initiative (C2G), 2021: 1) – thus reads a typical introduction to the rationale for solar geoengineering (SG) in the Arctic. To most, SG – any large-scale intervention that seeks to counteract anthropogenic global warming by reflecting sunlight – is still an obscure idea. However, it is quickly gaining traction among some groups of climate scientists, entrepreneurs and even some governments as climate impacts provoke an ever-increasing sense of alarm and urgency. Debates concerning potential governance of SG routinely acknowledge its potential international governance challenges, but have tended to leave security dimensions mostly unexamined (but see Nightingale and Cairns, 2014), usually by framing the challenge primarily in terms of coordinating efforts and dealing with potentially unwanted side effects (Corry et al., forthcoming). While climate change itself is often understood as a potential security threat, it has not yet motivated exceptional or decisive state action, but rather seems to produce a series of routine practices through which ‘climate change is rendered governable as an issue of human security’ (Oels, 2012: 201). Geoengineering could potentially change this situation. The potentially high-leverage, transboundary nature of large-scale SG has led to suggestions that it would involve disagreements over the methods and intensity of interventions (Ricke et al., 2013) and could lead to international conflicts, not least from uni- or ‘mini’-lateral deployment (Lockyer and Symons, 2019). In addition, with its potential to make climatic changes and catastrophes attributable to (or able to be blamed on) the direct and intentional actions of states, SG could also make the rest of climate politics a more conflictual field (Corry, 2017b). Other scholars have examined geoengineering itself through a human security frame – recently developed as ‘ecological security’ with ecosystems as the main referent object (McDonald, 2023), where the insecurity arising from climate change is seen to go beyond the particularity of state interests. This casts geoengineering as a potential ecological security measure, or even as a potentially ‘just’ one, if it would protect groups otherwise vulnerable to climate threats (Floyd, 2023). However, the entanglement of geoengineering, even if framed as an ‘ecological security’ measure, with national and international security dynamics, would remain a distinct risk, in similar ways to how humanitarian aid and development have become entangled with, and for some historically inseparable from, security (Duffield, 2007). In this article, we seek to move beyond theoretical speculation about the International Relations of geoengineering abstracted from historical or regional security dynamics, using a case study of the Arctic to investigate how geoengineering might (not) enter this political space and to derive conclusions of broader relevance to the international debate. We make use of the empirical richness revealed by schemes for Arctic geoengineering to identify how security imaginaries – ‘map[s] of social space’ (Pretorius, 2008: 112) reflecting common understandings and expectations about security – are already implicit in scientific and technical visions of geoengineering. We contrast these scientific security imaginaries with current state security imaginaries that play a dominant role in the anticipation of Arctic futures more generally. As we will show, scientific security imaginaries consider the Arctic as a best case for geoengineering in terms of political feasibility. This allows for analytical inference based on critical case selection (Flyvbjerg, 2006): if even in the Arctic these scientific security imaginaries have little compatibility with current state security imaginaries, geoengineering faces major obstacles of political feasibility in other regions and globally, unless deployed in pursuit of security rather than global environmental protection. Many different ideas for SG have been explored as ways to cool the Arctic. These include marine cloud brightening (MCB): spraying salts from sea vessels to make marine clouds more reflective (Latham et al., 2014) or covering ocean or ice surfaces with reflective materials (Field et al., 2018). Related ideas involve using wind power to pump water onto ice to help thicken it (Desch et al., 2017), underwater ‘curtains’ to protect ice from warmer water streams (Moore et al., 2018) or reintroducing large animals to graze and trample so that dark boreal forest is replaced by reflective snow-cover, protecting permafrost (Beer et al., 2020).1 The technique of stratospheric aerosol injection (SAI) – spraying reflective aerosols like sulphur or calcite into the stratosphere – is also included as an option by some organisations working with Arctic geoengineering2 or explored in simulations or other research (Jackson et al., 2015; Lane et al., 2007; Robock et al., 2008). In practice, however, aerosols distributed in or near the Arctic would likely spread over much of the Northern hemisphere, and model studies of Arctic-targeted SAI generally conclude that is it not a desirable option due to particularly severe negative side effects outside the Arctic (Duffey et al., 2023). While geoengineering scientists seek to distance their work from geopolitical concerns (Svensson and Pasgaard, 2019), scientific research in the Arctic – even that involving cooperation between Cold War adversaries – has long been deeply entangled with state security objectives and military interests (Doel et al., 2014; Goossen, 2020). Similarly, weather modification schemes have a history of (largely failed) entanglement with military purposes (Fleming, 2010), while climate modelling evolved partly through and with military scenario-making (Edwards, 2010). Climate modelling occupies a more civilian location in multilateral institutions now but still shares its particular way of seeing the climate – as a space of geophysical flows – with a military gaze (Allan, 2017). More importantly, the interrelated environmental, economic and geopolitical interests in opening up the Arctic that are emerging with global warming make for a particular set of contradictions and tensions in the region that we argue will be much more likely than global environmental concerns to determine what role (if any) geoengineering could or would play. Arctic SG ideas are emerging largely oblivious to this context, which is understandable, but makes for an interesting comparative analysis that, as will we show, raises questions concerning the overall feasibility of SG in the Arctic, especially deployment of it in line with scientific imaginaries. Since scientific literature tends to be central to governance-oriented assessments of SG (e.g. National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, 2021), a mismatch between assumptions has potentially serious policy implications, not least in terms of overall feasibility, which in turn augments risks of such schemes failing and contributing to mitigation deterrence (when they were hoped or planned for, delaying emissions reductions (McLaren, 2016)). Attention to the geopolitical complexities of Arctic geoengineering could prevent scientific work being translated into policy prescriptions in unintended ways or having unexpected effects – if the complexities can be foregrounded when interpreting such work and be considered in designing future research. Approach We analyse both Arctic geoengineering schemes and state strategies for the Arctic as security imaginaries. This concept draws on Charles Taylor’s (2004) notion of the social imaginary, ‘the ways people imagine their social existence, how they fit together with others, how things go on between them and their fellows, the expectations that are normally met, and the deeper normative notions and images that underlie these expectations’ (p. 23). Imaginaries, in this sense, are worldviews – sets of assumptions that may or may not correspond to social reality but affect it in significant and material ways. They are not simply subjective constructions to be weighed against some objective reality, but (often competing) ways of constructing and institutionalising the world. Following Pretorius (2008), a security imaginary is then ‘that part of the social imaginary as “a map of social space” that is specific to society’s common understanding and expectations about security and makes practices related to security possible’ (p. 112). Regrettably, social imaginaries are often theorised through ‘internalism’: as if a society is determined by factors originating within that society alone (Rosenberg, 2016).3 This makes it difficult to explain why different societies often have similar security imaginaries. By breaking with internalism, national imaginaries can be understood as inherently international in the sense that they are deeply affected by coexistence with other societies. For Pretorius (2008), ‘the security imaginary is . . . open to influence from perceptions, beliefs and understandings of other societies about security’ due to ‘trans-societal exchanges’ such as travel (p. 112). But in a deeper way, the mere existence of multiple societies is fundamental to the whole idea of (national) security (Rosenberg, 2016). In addition, if the Arctic is considered a ‘regional security complex’ (Lanteigne, 2016) such that the security imaginary of societies in a region ‘cannot be reasonably analysed or resolved independently of each other’ (Buzan and Wæver, 2003: 44), then relations between societies become constitutive, even, of security imaginaries of that region. Scientific communities – in this case geoengineering researchers – can produce a different ‘map of social space’ from national ones, since the groups (in one version ‘epistemic communities’ (Haas, 1992)) producing these are not necessarily national, and use different tools and concepts than national security communities. At the same time, scientists are rarely unaffected by their backgrounds, and their technical and conceptual tools for producing such a ‘map’ reflect traces from state priorities and international structures, including colonial legacies (Mahony and Hulme, 2018). State and scientific security imaginaries are thus distinct but not separate, and as we shall see, they can clash or draw upon each other, often implicitly. The security imaginary concept captures three important characteristics of our empirical materials. First, geoengineering ideas and state security strategies are performative (rather than purely descriptive) in their anticipation of (Arctic) futures (Anderson, 2010). Second, they are based on understandings of social order which merge factual and normative claims – what is and what should be (Taylor, 2004). Third, they construct threats and necessary responses in terms of the security of that social order, irrespective of whether those threats are of a military nature or otherwise (e.g. a climatic threat); in other words, they can securitise a variety of referent objects (Buzan et al., 1998). In investigating scientific and state security imaginaries, we focus on the difference in the construction of two objects: climate and the international order. We ask: how is the ‘Arctic climate’ articulated and made legible in relation to the planetary climate and other factors, and further, how is the Arctic climate problematised and related to concerns of desirable or undesirable futures? What political, economic and international infrastructures are presumed? In sum, what threatens and what defends Arctic and international order? To explore the security imaginaries of Arctic geoengineering, we gathered materials that construct Arctic futures through searches in the peer-reviewed literature with the search terms ‘Arctic’ and ‘geoengineering’ using , as well as search hits on the term ‘Arctic’ in the archive of the Climate Engineering Newsletter run by the Kiel Earth Institute,4 which also covers grey literature and press coverage on the topic.5 We manually excluded texts exclusively focused on carbon removal forms of geoengineering, except those with positive effects on the surface albedo. For the state security imaginaries of the Arctic, we consulted policy documents and other official government publications looking for the most recent policy statement in each of the littoral states: Canada, the United States, Russia, Norway and Denmark (which controls the security and foreign policy of Greenland) concerning their respective Arctic security strategy.6 Public documents are often used as data in security studies as testaments to state preferences or intentions, despite the often performative character of such documents. Such documents generally attempt to portray the institutions that produce them as competent and coherent – and of value to particular external audiences. As such they are potentially unreliable as sources for underlying intentions, levels of capacity and commitment behind policy goals. However, as documents set out to perform a future which is seen as desirable – either by the authors themselves or the audiences they appeal to – they are a useful guide to the underlying assumptions of social and international order guiding Arctic security politics – the state security imaginaries, in other words. We therefore study them for their performative content, with particular emphasis on the intended audiences and messages (Coffey, 2014). Similarly, geoengineering publications also perform a material and political Arctic future to advance scientific or research agendas, and we therefore analyse the underlying imaginary of their desired futures, without prejudice to the climatological or technical feasibility of the envisioned schemes. However, as the imaginaries of many researchers typically invoke global benefits from Arctic geoengineering, in particular through preventing tipping events, it bears mentioning that recent literature questions these benefits. Research indicates that that some techniques (ice restoration in particular) would have limited impacts on the global climate (Van Wijngaarden et al., 2024; Webster and Warren, 2022; Zampieri and Goessling, 2019), and a recent comprehensive review finds only limited support for the claim that Arctic sea ice is a tipping element in the climate system (Lenton et al., 2023: 58–60, 66–68). Even so, it should not be assumed that scientific considerations alone will drive decisions to geoengineer the Arctic, and the growing interest in these ideas makes it important to examine their political imaginaries. Finally, we must acknowledge the highly consequential difference in the power to securitise between the actors which produce the imaginaries. The state apparatuses producing the state security imaginaries are more aligned with, and therefore more likely to influence, actors with the power to securitise (Floyd, 2021). We read both sets of imaginaries in this light. The ‘great white shield’: scientific security imaginaries In geoengineering studies and policy papers, the Arctic is foremost understood as a part of the global climate system (Corry, 2017a), with focus placed on potential tipping points in terms of alarming above-average warming, the sea ice albedo feedback and the potential release of methane and carbon dioxide from thawing permafrost or undersea clathrates. These may push the Earth into feedback cycles of further warming. The Arctic is therefore seen as a ‘great white shield’ for the global climate, but a fragile one: ‘the weakest link in the chain of climate protection’ (Zaelke, 2019: 241). Many of those advocating exploration of Arctic geoengineering argue that emissions cannot be reduced in time to prevent tipping points. One paper contends that cryospheric tipping points ‘are essentially too late to address by standard political processes [for climate management]’ (Moore et al., 2021: 109). This pessimistic assessment spawns a complementary opposite: hopes that geoengineering might prove especially feasible and desirable in the Arctic, with associated aspirations for near-term experimentation and potential deployment. One researcher coined the term ‘Arctic Premium’, arguing that the particular climatic characteristics of the region will enable ‘a dividend for regionally based climate interventions that could be less expensive, more effective and achieve faster results than if they were targeted over the whole earth’ (Littlemore, 2021: 2) – the Arctic imagined as an effective and relatively accessible lever for operating on the global climate system as a whole.7 While regional benefits such as the preservation of ice-dependent Indigenous ways of life are sometimes mentioned (Moore et al., 2021: 110), this tends to occur when regional benefits align with what are understood as global climatic interests. This instrumental attitude can also be seen in proposals that, echoing some of the early literature on SG (Lane et al., 2007; Robock et al., 2008), see the Arctic as a testing ground. These include ‘SCoPEx’, which would have tested SAI equipment over Indigenous Sámi land, and the suggested use of the Sermeq Kujalleq glacier in Greenland – Inuit territory – as a prototype for more substantial glacial geoengineering in the Antarctic. The Sermeq Kujalleq proposal is justified on the basis of ‘fewer global environmental impacts’, despite the considerable amount of local socio-environmental impacts and acknowledgement that ‘the reactions of local people would be mixed’ (Moore et al., 2018: 304). In a quote that sums up the assessment of most researchers Bodansky and Hunt (2020) argue that ‘as bad as Arctic melting is for the Arctic itself, its global effects are more concerning’ (p. 601). The concern with global effects infuses scientific security imaginaries with urgency. The ostensible ‘speed’ (Zaelke, 2019: 244) of SG is contrasted with the slowness of politics, emissions reductions and large-scale carbon removal.8 In many cases, such invocations of urgency lead to claims that geoengineering is necessary: that ‘excluding polar ice restoration could make the 1.5° C goal impossible to achieve’ (Field et al., 2018: 883) or that ‘more and more people see geoengineering as a necessity more than an option, making it a matter of when rather than if’ (Barclay, 2021: 4). One proposal notes that ‘these are expensive propositions, but within the means of governments to carry out on a scale comparable to the Manhattan Project’ (Desch et al., 2017: 121); others also specify funding by rich states as the way to move forward on research and deployment (Moore et al., 2021). The urgent threat of Arctic climate change is seen as a job for decisive state action, and thus, it is argued to be salient in so far as it appears as a universal threat to state interests. At the same time, the causes of climate change are downplayed and depoliticised across the literature. Attributing climate change to emissions from ‘human societies’ (Beer et al., 2020: 1), the literature frames out the vastly unequal responsibility for climate change and the social and economic dynamics driving historical and continued emissions.9 One policy paper neglects social causes of climate change altogether, contrasting geoengineering only to ‘conventional mitigation policies’ (Bodansky and Hunt, 2020: 597) and ‘decarbonisation of the global economy’ (p. 616). In this way, Arctic climate change is constructed as a global security threat, seen as stemming from the ‘tight couplings within global systems, processes, and networks’ (Miller, 2015: 278) rather than the actions of any specific group of humans, and as a threat to global ‘human security’ and therefore not subject to the division and distrust of international politics. In this, the imaginary resembles much liberal environmentalism in International Relations, characterised by a ‘global cosmopolitanism’ which does not seriously engage with inequalities of power and intersocietal difference (Chandler et al., 2018: 200). This imaginary is probably adopted to construct scenarios for technical research, since it fits neatly with modelling tools that produce visions of geoengineering in purely technical Earth system terms. But the liberal imaginary also shapes assessments of political feasibility and could impinge on the technical design of geoengineering schemes, including in ways that can be hard to unpick when the research enters the political sphere. Most publications entirely omit considerations of state security, including some papers that focus on governance (Bodansky and Hunt, 2020; Moore et al., 2021). The mentions of security that do exist are brief and vague: C2G (2021) notes that ‘evidence suggests potential security issues may arise’ (p. 2) in the case of SAI. Another paper notes as an example of ‘geo-political . . . friction’ that ‘Arctic regions such as Russia, Alaska and the Canadian Yukon would be providing a global public good . . . which would add a major new dimension to international relations’ (Macias-Fauria et al., 2020: 10), suggesting that geoengineering can be adequately grasped through rationalist decision frameworks where global public goods offer non-rival and universal benefits, which is disputed (Gardiner, 2013). In the research, the omission of geopolitics is justified by relegating it as a problem which only concerns the ostensibly more controversial techniques such as SAI deployed globally. There is a hope that ‘Arctic interventions pose less of a governance challenge than global climate interventions’ (Bodansky and Hunt, 2020: 609). This rests on the twin claim that the physical effects of Arctic interventions will be more limited and therefore less risky and that the Arctic’s political environment is more conducive to geoengineering than the ‘global’ polity as a whole. In terms of physical effects, many Arctic interventions are argued to be ‘low-risk’ (Barclay, 2021: 4) due to fewer and less severe environmental side effects. What Zaelke (2019) calls ‘soft geoengineering’ (p. 243) approaches are presented as ‘more natural’ (Littlemore, 2021: 2) than the most commonly considered SG techniques such as SAI or MCB which involve physical and chemical manipulation of the atmosphere.10 In particular, efforts to restore sea ice without atmospheric interventions are promoted highlighting the ostensibly more ‘natural’ character of their intervention (Field et al., 2018: 899). ‘Unlike other [SG] methods, thickening sea ice is attractive because it merely enhances a naturally ongoing process in the Arctic’, claims one proponent (Desch et al., 2017: 112). Efforts at ecological intervention in ecosystems to halt permafrost thaw are also described as ‘a return to a more “natural state”’ (Moore et al., 2021: 111). ‘Soft’ geoengineering concepts are in many cases linked to discourses of conservation, with the sometimes-explicit expectation that this will make them more benign and less politically controversial: ‘Since it is rooted in the preservation of the existing state rather than introducing new and undeniably controversial elements into the atmosphere, it likely presents easier governance challenges’ (Moore et al., 2021: 116). Such distinctions between ‘natural’ and ‘unnatural’ interventions may well facilitate cooperation around some methods, but notions of ‘natural’ are also situated, making distinctions inevitably difficult to maintain in practice. While aiming to preserve select parts of the Arctic environment (such as land ice, sea ice or permafrost), geoengineering interventions will likely also introduce significant changes and risks to Arctic ecosystems (Miller et al., 2020; Van Wijngaarden et al., 2024).11 In this way, ostensibly ‘natural’ Arctic interventions would lead to unprecedented anthropogenic – and for others therefore ‘unnatural’ – impacts on ecosystems in the Arctic and possibly beyond, since remote impacts are plausible but not yet well understood.12 This reveals an imaginary prevalent among proponents of Arctic geoengineering, where a distinct construction of ‘natural’ emerges to bridge aspirations of technical manipulation of the climate with what scientists see as palatable to (or believe to be) social ideals of ‘nature’. In addition, the adjectives used to describe ‘soft’ geoengineering – ‘targeted’ (Moore et al., 2021: 108), ‘localized’ (Latham et al., 2014: 3), ‘reversible’ (Barclay, 2021: 4) and ‘intelligent’ (Field et al., 2018: 900), all point to an imaginary where aspirations towards the ‘natural’ are combined with expectations of fine-grained, scientifically calibrated control. As Zaelke (2019) explicitly suggests, ‘in other words, we have control over soft geoengineering’ (p. 243) – the ‘we’ here left ambiguous. The idea of having a relatively large degree of control originates in restraint vis-a-vis ‘global’ SG, in that it recognises large risks from attempting to control the global climate system as such. But this sense of fine-grained control may also encourage more Promethean dreams of a ‘designer climate’ (Oomen, 2021), as speculation over future possibilities of ‘fine-tun[ing] the flows of heat, air and water’ using localised MCB indicates (Latham et al., 2014: 10). In terms of the Arctic’s political environment, discourse on the feasibility of geoengineering reveals further elements of a liberal imaginary, relying on (existing or imagined) international law and institutions, distributive justice and consequentialist ethics (Baiman, 2021; Barclay, 2021), a focus on cost minimisation (Desch et al., 2017; Field et al., 2018) and market-based approaches such as payments for ecological services (Moore et al., 2021) or carbon credits (Macias-Fauria et al., 2020) in the implementation of geoengineering schemes. Taken together, such measures rather well resemble a ‘liberal cosmopolitan framework through the advocacy of managerialism rather than transformation; the top-down coercive approach of international law; and use of abstract modernist political categories’ (Chandler et al., 2018: 190). Distributive notions of justice and consequentialist ethics are arguably also at the root of claims that local populations in the Arctic, including its Indigenous peoples, may be uniquely receptive to geoengineering schemes. While many advocate public engagement (Desch et al., 2017; Macias-Fauria et al., 2020) and stress that ‘Northern people who use and depend upon the existing landscape need a strong voice’ (Littlemore, 2021: 3), there is a general expectation that such engagement will not be prohibitively conflictual. One policy scholar suggested that ‘given that Northern people are already seeing the effects of climate change, the North may be a place for a more pragmatic, constructive, and legitimate deliberative discussion on Arctic interventions’ (Ted Parson, quoted in Littlemore, 2021: 5). Other researchers have concluded that using SAI would conserve ‘indigenous habits and lifestyles’ in the Arctic (Chen et al., 2020: 1) as a direct consequence of reducing permafrost thaw. These assumptions were strained by the SCoPEx controversy, where the Sámi Council strongly opposed the experiment planned in their territory (Cooper, 2023). Equally, Arctic populations (Indigenous and non-Indigenous) have varied interests that cannot be assumed to be oriented to preventing or reversing Arctic climatic change, some seeing new opportunities for economic development and potentially political independence in the case of Greenland (Jacobsen, 2020). Political feasibility of geoengineering plans is often assessed through legal analyses that weigh up specific techniques and target environments in relation to existing treaties and other legal regimes (Barclay, 2021; Bodansky and Hunt, 2020). Some place hope in techniques such as permafrost/glacier preservation that may be deployed within the bounds of a single nation’s territory, which would, in their view, sidestep the need for international governance altogether: ‘for example, Russian and Canadian policies could change the carbon released from thawing permafrost. Similarly, Greenland’s ice sheet would be the primary responsibility of the Greenlanders’ (Moore et al., 2021: 109). While such techniques might be localised in effect, and only intended to slow climate feedback effects such as the rate of ice loss, inclusion of such measures in market credit schemes, as attempted by the Real Ice project,13 could prove controversial and under some conditions undermine any SG-based climate effect (Fearnehough et al., 2020: Chapter 3). For cross-border geoengineering schemes, the Arctic Council14 is in some cases highlighted as a favourable site for governance (Desch et al., 2017). One paper calls it an ‘obvious institution’ for international governance of Arctic geoengineering in general, contending that ‘because of its relatively small size, the Arctic Council has been a relatively effective forum to develop regional policies relating to the Arctic’ (Bodansky and Hunt, 2020: 610). However, in a later article, one of the authors described the Arctic Council as ‘an informal institution that lacks any regulatory powers and shows no signs of being up to the task of taking significant action’ on Arctic climate change (Bodansky and Pomerance, 2021: 2). Moore et al. (2021) similarly contend that ‘the Arctic Council is not a true international organization with rule-making power’ (p. 113). Yet Moore et al. (2021) still argue the Arctic is a politically tractable space for geoengineering due to the low number of states that would need to come to an agreement – in contrast to global SG which ‘would ideally need at least near-global consensus’ (p. 109). This reveals an important complexity in the concept of globality that permeates the geoengineering imaginaries. While the Arctic, as we showed above, is instrumentalised for a global community – operated on to mitigate climatic effects across the planet – it is also differentiated from ‘global interventions’ that take the global Earth system as their direct object of intervention (Bodansky and Hunt, 2020: 597). As Moore et al. (2021) state explicitly, ‘targeted geoengineering is done on regional scales but aims to conserve the various parts of the global climate and earth system’ (p. 109). The politically salient objects are imagined to be the methods of intervention, spatially bounded in the Arctic region while the intended global climatic effects are in effect rendered unproblematic and therefore without need for governance. Arguably this reflects a common assumption that governance is only relevant in the case of ‘adverse or unintended effects’ (Barclay, 2021: 5) – the intended effect of albedo modification implicitly understood as an unambiguous global public good. On a technical level, this assumption is questionable – since remote consequences of Arctic geoengineering are not yet well understood. But more crucially, the assumption projects exactly those liberal rationalist norms which are argued to be especially present in the Arctic on to the wider geopolitical context. The specific imaginary constructed to justify regional geoengineering interventions as politically feasible while still being part of a global solution to climate change cannot work without a general liberal imaginary of international politics. Otherwise, the global effects of regional interventions would threaten to undo the validity of the ‘regional feasibility’ argument. Arctic state security imaginaries The history of scientific research in the Arctic reveals the liberal security imaginaries underlying Arctic geoengineering to be a relatively recent phenomenon. Doel et al. (2014) describe the intertwinement of 20th-century Arctic research projects and three broad state goals, shared to varying degrees by all littoral states: national security, exploitation of natural resources and extension of territorial sovereignty to disputed areas. When intercontinental and submarine-launched ballistic nuclear missiles were introduced from the late 1950s, the Arctic became a ‘buffer zone’ between the Cold War powers, experiencing a continuous period with low military activity and absence of conflict that likely paved a way for increased cooperation after the Cold War, with Mikhail Gorbachev famously declaring the Arctic a ‘zone of peace’ (Gjørv and Hodgson, 2019: 2). The Arctic came to be seen as an ‘exceptional’ region in the post-Cold War period, where institutionalised multilateral cooperation on regional issues, particularly environmental and scientific activities, could blossom (Lackenbauer and Dean, 2020). In this section, we examine recent state strategies and developments in the Arctic to assess the contours of the current leading security imaginary among Arctic states. The key characteristic of Arctic exceptionalism is that geopolitical conflicts and tensions from outside the Arctic are excluded from affecting cooperation on internal Arctic issues and that, as a corollary, specifically ‘Arctic issues’ are compartmentalised: ‘Actors . . . can talk about everything except contentious issues, not least military security’ (Gjørv and Hodgson, 2019: 3, original emphasis). However, this compartmentalisation is hard to find in recent state assessments. The US emphasised in 2019 that ‘The Arctic remains vulnerable to “strategic spillover” from tensions, competition, or conflict arising in these other regions’ (United States Department of Defense (USDOD), 2019: 6). In 2020, the Danish Minister for Foreign Affairs spoke of ‘a new security-political dynamic in the region. Disagreements and conflicts originating in other areas of the world are also being expressed in the Arctic’ (Kofod, 2020: 1).15 For the four North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) members in the Arctic littoral, such concerns were obviously directed at the only non-NATO state: Russia (even before the invasion of Ukraine). Denmark expressed concern over ‘the Russian build-up of military capabilities’ (Kofod, 2020: 2); Norway stated that ‘Russian build-up of forces and military modernisation can challenge the security of Norway and allied countries directly’ (Royal Ministry of Foreign Affairs (RMFA), 2020: 23) and cited the Russian annexation of Crimea as a key moment in increased tensions and deteriorating optimism regarding peaceful cooperation in the Arctic (RMFA, 2020: 10). Russia, for its part, described ‘military buildup by foreign states in the Arctic and an increase of the potential for conflict in the region’ as a ‘challenge’ (Office of the President of the Russian Federation (OPRF), 2020: 5). Among the NATO states, these assessments have for several years been accompanied by a call for deeper military cooperation. Denmark has pledged to ‘support NATO’s role in the Arctic and the North Atlantic’ (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, 2022: 23), a change from previous strategy documents which stressed that ‘enforcement of the realm’s sovereignty is fundamentally the responsibility of the realm’s authorities’ (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, Greenland and the Faroe Islands, 2011: 20). Canada aims to ‘increase surveillance and monitoring of the broader Arctic region’ in collaboration with the United States, Denmark and Norway (Government of Canada, 2019: 77), while Norway in 2021 negotiated a deal with the United States to allow it access to two Arctic military installations – the Ramsund Naval Base and the Evenes Airfield. Trust has only deteriorated further since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. All Arctic Council member states except Russia announced they would suspend participation in council meetings because of the invasion, subsequently announcing a ‘limited resumption’ of projects without Russian participation (Global Affairs Canada, 2022). The recent US Arctic strategy describes ‘increasing strategic competition in the Arctic . . . exacerbated by Russia’s unprovoked war in Ukraine’ (The White House, 2022: 3) and claimed that ‘Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine has rendered government-to-government cooperation with Russia in the Arctic virtually impossible at present’ (The White House, 2022: 14). Russia interprets Arctic politics on similar terms; the Arctic ambassador has stated that the Finnish and Swedish bids to join NATO ‘will of course lead to certain adjustments in the development of high altitude [sic] cooperation’ (quoted in Staalesen, 2022). This dynamic of de-exceptionalisation, where the Arctic is increasingly reintegrated into great power politics, is the contemporary context in which the littoral states interpret the region’s present and future climatic changes. The state goals associated with early and mid-20th century Arctic science are reappearing as a background for envisioning the impact of climate change. Of the three goals identified by Doel et al. (2014), assertion over disputed territories is arguably of lesser importance today. All states have indicated a willingness to settle territorial continental shelf disputes via international law, and such statements are generally accepted by commentators as genuine (Østhagen, 2018). But the goals of military national security and extraction of natural resources are growing in salience, and changing in character, as the ice melts and the permafrost thaws. In contrast to the geoengineering literature, climate change is rarely addressed as a primary threat in state policies but described in more restricted terms. Adaptation problems from ‘sea-ice loss, permafrost thaw and land erosion’ (Government of Canada, 2019: 63) are emphasised, and both Canada (Government of Canada, 2019: 18) and Norway (RMFA, 2020: 14) describe climate change as a cultural threat to Indigenous peoples. Nonetheless, the task of emission reductions does not figure as a specifically Arctic objective (e.g. RMFA, 2020: 14). In this way, climate change figures less as a problem that must urgently be dealt with and more as an unavoidable condition of Arctic politics. In the context of military security objectives, climate change is understood primarily as a driver of increased navigability and accessibility of the Arctic. The US Navy anticipates an increasingly ice-free ‘blue Arctic’, where ‘peace and prosperity will be increasingly challenged by Russia and China, whose interests and values differ dramatically from ours’ (United States Department of the Navy, 2021: 2). Cold War-era interpretations of the Arctic’s geographical significance are being reinvigorated: Canada stresses the importance of maintaining air and missile capabilities in its Arctic region due to its location along the shortest path from Russian to US territory (Government of Canada, 2019: 77). And as the region becomes more accessible, it rises in strategic importance. The US Department of Defense presents the Arctic as ‘a potential corridor – between the Indo-Pacific and Europe, and the U.S. homeland – for expanded strategic competitions’ (USDOD, 2019: 6) and stresses that ‘maintaining freedoms of navigation and overflight are critical to ensuring that . . . U.S. forces retain the global mobility guaranteed under international law’ (USDOD, 2019: 13). The increased accessibility of the Arctic also brings new hopes of further use of the region’s natural resources as a vehicle for economic growth (Keil, 2014). Such goals have become intertwined with development discourses and policies that focus on lack of modern infrastructure, low employment and population decline and, in this way, align the economic objectives of faraway capitals with local concerns. Canada aims to ‘close the gaps and divides that exist between this region, particularly in relation to its Indigenous peoples, and the rest of the country’ (Government of Canada, 2019: 36) and presents these gaps in a consumerist national imaginary where being ‘full participants in Canadian society’ means having ‘access to the same services, opportunities and standards of living as those enjoyed by other Canadians’ (Government of Canada, 2019: 36). The Russian government frames its Arctic policy goals in terms of avoiding a dystopia of a depopulated region lacking economic growth, and such fears are directly presented in security terms: ‘population decline’ and ‘insufficient development’ of infrastructure and business are named ‘primary threats to national security’ (OPRF, 2020: 4–5). In Norway, Northern depopulation is presented as a key concern to be addressed through investment in public education and business infrastructure (RMFA, 2020: 11). The emphasis in such ‘development’ is on natural resources such as fossil fuels and rare earth minerals, trans-Arctic shipping routes and tourism. Russia is particularly clear in its focus on fossil fuels; ‘increasing oil and gas extraction rates, advancing oil refining, and producing liquefied natural gas and gas-chemical products’ are considered ‘primary objectives for the economic development of the Arctic zone’ (OPRF, 2020: 7). The development of the Northern Sea Route as a ‘competitive national transportation passage in the world market’ is named a ‘primary’ Russian national interest (OPRF, 2020: 4). Other states also emphasise ‘new economic opportunities, for example in the form of new maritime routes and extraction of natural resources’ (Kofod, 2020: 1). In some states, the role of fossil fuels in extractive ambitions is arguably receding. In its previous Arctic strategy, the US anticipated the Arctic’s role in ‘future United States energy security’ through its ‘proved and potential oil and gas natural resources that will likely continue to provide valuable supplies to meet U.S. energy needs’ (The White House, 2013: 7). Now, ‘the Arctic’s significant deposits of in-demand minerals essential to key technology supply chains’ (The White House, 2022: 6) have ostensibly replaced fossil fuels as the main extractive interest. Yet such shifts leave intact visions of major extractive operations dependent on (or facilitated by) a warming Arctic. More generally, there is an assumption of compatibility between interests in extractivism and economic growth and climate and environmental policies. Imagined futures contain ‘safe and environmentally-responsible shipping’ (Government of Canada, 2019: 49), ‘the sustainable use of natural resources’ (OPRF, 2020: 9) and ‘sustainable tourism’ (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, Greenland and the Faroe Islands, 2011: 24). Technological innovation is, unsurprisingly, anticipated as the main way to realise the sustainability of these activities. In contrast to this assumed compatibility with environmental objectives, the economic opportunities are portrayed as in need of protection against interests from other states. The US expresses commitment to protect ‘freedom of navigation’ in the Arctic against perceived Russian threats, alleging that Russia ‘is attempting to constrain freedom of navigation through its excessive maritime claims along the Northern Sea Route’ (The White House, 2022: 6). As described above, this interest in freedom of navigation is partly military, but also acts to protect an economic order. The US argues for ‘a shared interest in a peaceful and stable region that allows the Arctic nations to realise the potential benefits of greater access to the region’s resources’ (USDOD, 2019: 4), underpinned by US military power. Russia, for its part, has named ‘actions by foreign states and (or) international organizations to obstruct the Russian Federation’s legitimate economic or other activities in the Arctic’ a ‘primary challenge to national security’ (OPRF, 2020: 5). Here, China is also constructed by Western states as an economic security threat. While under the President Biden, the US threat perception in the Arctic appears to have shifted to an almost exclusive focus on Russia (The White House, 2022); the prior Trump administration indicated strong concerns that ‘China is attempting to gain a role in the Arctic in ways that may undermine international rules and norms, and there is a risk that its predatory economic behavior globally may be repeated in the Arctic’ (USDOD, 2019: 6), a sentiment shared by Denmark and Norway (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, 2022: 23; RMFA, 2020: 11). China is certainly explicit about its ambitions in the Arctic, which it portrays as an increasingly ‘global’ space. It argues that due to the changing environment and increased accessibility, ‘the Arctic situation now goes beyond its original inter-Arctic States or regional nature’, and the stress on ‘global implications’ is used to justify China’s identification as a ‘Near-Arctic State’ and ‘important stakeholder in Arctic affairs’ (english.gov.cn, 2018). Yet contrary to the impression given by Western states, Chinese material and institutional visions for the future are strikingly similar to those of the littoral states: development of shipping routes, materials extraction and tourism under promises of sustainable development and governed by international law (english.gov.cn, 2018). Hence, the mistrust expressed by other states does not concern explicit differences in visions of Arctic futures. Rather, the imaginary of economic development is securitised along the lines of geopolitical blocs, with economic cooperation across these blocs rendered problematic. Implications for the security politics of solar geoengineering Our analysis has revealed stark differences between scientific security imaginaries in the geoengineering literature and the security imaginaries of Arctic states. First, climate change is constructed as a concern in different ways. In the scientific imaginaries, climate change, and especially the prospect of Arctic tipping points, are front and centre. The Arctic is primarily interpreted through its climate-restorative potential, as imagined through computational Earth system models that imagine futures of controlled Arctic climates – and by extension, controlled global climates. By contrast, state imaginaries of the Arctic are not oriented towards preventing climate change but anticipate a mixture of desirable and undesirable outcomes from rising temperatures, which are seen as an inevitable background for the region’s future. Responses to climate change – such as increased demand for rare earth minerals – are becoming issues of concern and questions of security, more so than climate change itself (cf. McLaren and Corry, 2023), which stands as an unquestioned precondition for other strategic decisions. Whether the Arctic should be a venue of increased activity is not in doubt. This stands in sharp contrast to ideas of geoengineering which presuppose that hindering accessibility in the region for economic and military purposes, for example, by restoring sea ice, would be acceptable to all states involved. Second, the scientific security imaginaries exhibit a liberal institutionalist understanding of international politics and rely on a view of the Arctic as a global commons to be leveraged for the needs of an ostensible global humanity. In this, imaginaries of Arctic geoengineering do not differ from their planet-scaled counterparts (McLaren and Corry, 2021), except perhaps in the immediacy of imagined experimentation and deployment. Yet the Arctic case contains a unique contradictory claim. Geoengineering in the Arctic is justified partly by claims that it would be more politically tractable, drawing on discourses of Arctic exceptionalism that see it as a special region where inter-state cooperation on common interests can be shielded from exterior geopolitical dynamics and conflicts. But while the envisaged methods of geoengineering are bounded in the Arctic, they still aim to achieve global climatic effects.16 Prospective geoengineers thus make two further assumptions: that effects outside the Arctic are overall benign and/or that governance is only relevant in the case of unfavourable effects. The latter relies on a liberal rationalist imaginary of world politics, where costs and benefits are readily identified and acted upon, coordinated by institutions if required, undermining the initial presumption that the Arctic can be shielded from global conflictual geopolitics. Especially with the Russian invasion of Ukraine, this idea of Arctic exceptionalism is also increasingly obsolete – the Arctic is undergoing de-exceptionalisation, as indicated by the de facto collapse of the flagship of Arctic multilateralism, the Arctic Council. Schemes that envision deployment of Arctic geoengineering as market-driven are also likely to be less immune to geopolitical obstacles than their developers imagine. Such interventions assume an international order governed by multilateral institutions including markets for carbon removals or ‘cooling credits’. But even for those states which subscribe to similar liberal aspirations, this order is subject to uncertainty, in the Arctic and elsewhere, and is consequently understood as something which must be secured. The mistrust from Western states about China’s interests in the Arctic, although ostensibly similar and compatible with Western aspirations of Arctic futures, highlights the current and increasing uncertainty over the future of such a Western-dominated liberal economic order. Taken together, these differences reveal a deep disjuncture between the security imaginaries of Arctic geoengineering and state strategies. Given the relative strength of state security actors and institutions compared to environmental ones, the political feasibility of Arctic geoengineering appears to preclude a purely environmental logic driving development and/or deployment. It raises the question of which rationales and scenarios would become subject to modification – or disappear completely – to take account of economic, geopolitical, security and other aims. In this light, it is notable that there is one point of convergence between the state and scientific security imaginaries: technological solutionism. States might conceivably adopt geoengineering to partly mitigate Arctic warming (or ice degradation) while still leaving the environment accessible enough for increased resource extraction, transcontinental shipping and tourism. However, such a scenario – a form of mitigation deterrence (McLaren, 2016) – is hardly an expression of the scientific security imaginary, which, having securitised Arctic tipping points as a threat to a global humanity, sees the protection and restoration of the Arctic climate as the overarching priority. Furthermore, far from prospective geoengineers’ expectations that envision the interventions as supported by local and Indigenous populations, this scenario would further instrumentalise the Arctic to the ends of interests outside the region, which clearly amounts to a continuation and intensification of the neo-colonialism that characterises many parts of the Arctic to this day (Greaves, 2016). As clearly indicated by Sámi-led opposition to SCoPEx and opposition to the Arctic Ice Project led by Arctic Indigenous organisations,17 many Arctic Indigenous persons consider SG incompatible with their understandings of sustainability. As a case study, the Arctic provides more general lessons for SG and security. The region has attracted the attention of geoengineering researchers in part because they understand it as a political best case, and the legacy of multilateralism and science diplomacy in the region might seem to support such an assessment. However, even in a such a best case, the underlying imaginaries of geoengineering clash directly with the political ambitions of the states which would need to support, if not implement, the geoengineering interventions. In other words, SG is unlikely to be implemented for the purposes envisioned in scientific circles, in the Arctic context or elsewhere, least of all in the kind of globally ‘optimal’ manner envisaged in computer model experiments. Should further climatological research reveal SG to be technically feasible and climatically desirable – a question not yet settled – the technology would enter the quagmire of an increasingly competitive and conflictual planetary geopolitics and would need to be integrated with state policies that, for the moment, show no signs of adopting climate change as a primary issue. Our conclusions also have implications for McDonald’s (2023) contemplation of geoengineering albeit only ‘in the service of ecological security: a concern with the resilience of ecosystems themselves’ (p. 566). While McDonald acknowledges the problem of finding political purchase for making nature itself the object of security, he does not explore in detail the particular form geoengineering would take as a security measure. Here, we have studied the work of researchers and others who, arguably, invoke ecological security through appeals to necessity or emergency with Arctic ecosystems as the referent object. Through their work to develop geoengineering from general principles into workable interventions (i.e. which technique would be used, how it would be designed, who would be deploying it and where and with what purpose), they appeal to particular understandings of international security. This demonstrates how even attempts to make nature itself the referent object of security in practice depends on understandings about human societies – here theorised as imaginaries. Importantly, these scientific security imaginaries do not appear to align with state security imaginaries. In drawing our conclusions, we do not suggest that state imaginaries alone will determine the future of Arctic geoengineering. We afford them more power relative to the scientific imaginaries, since the former are backed by considerably more institutional, material and discursive power. But imaginaries are dynamic entities subject to change in unpredictable ways. There are prior examples of scientific cooperation between nations under geopolitical strife, including in the Arctic during the Cold War (Bertelsen, 2020), and a scenario where technical cooperation on SG leads to ‘spillover effects’ inducing restorative and sustainable forms of peacebuilding has been suggested as a hypothesis to be investigated (Buck, 2022). Still, there is also a long and consistent history of science being a proxy for and entangled with geopolitics and economics in the region (Doel et al., 2014; Goossen, 2020), and our analysis of Arctic de-exceptionalisation suggests that ‘geoengineering peacebuilding’ is getting increasingly unlikely as tensions continue to rise. A different vein of uncertainty concerns the internal contradictions of state security imaginaries – between the willingness to seize new opportunities for resource extraction and shipping, and other policy goals of environmental protection and national security. How these contradictions are managed, and which aspects are ultimately prioritised, will play a key role in forming the future of the Arctic (cf. Albert and Vasilache, 2018) and in deciding the opportunities for and political desirability of geoengineering interventions. Therefore, while analysing imaginaries can only take us so far in anticipating the security implications of SG, they provide an important foundation for conceptualising the very problems at stake in this anticipation. As climate impacts intensify and the incentives for geoengineering deployment increase – whether as a technocratic ‘climate policy option’ (Irvine and Keith, 2021), as a way of defending empire (Surprise, 2020) or “fossil fuel-dependent ‘ways of life’” (McLaren and Corry, 2023: 1), the imaginaries outlined in this article will be increasingly likely to collide, in the Arctic and elsewhere. AcknowledgmentsThe research for this article was part of the International Security Politics and Climate Engineering (ISPACE) project hosted at the Department of Political Science, University of Copenhagen. The authors thank the three anonymous reviewers for their insightful comments and suggestions and are grateful for comments given to an initial presentation of the research idea at the International Congress of Arctic Social Sciences (ICASS X) in June 2021. N.K. thanks the Copenhagen Center for Disaster Research for hosting him while conducting the analysis for this article in 2022.FundingThe author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research was carried out with funding from the Independent Research Fund Denmark (Danmarks Frie Forskningsfond).Footnotes1. The latter approaches may also be categorised as ‘nature-based solutions’ or adaptation. In this sense, they are hybrid measures, and we include them here because they also directly or indirectly affect the radiation balance.2. See Centre for Climate Repair. Available at: https://www.climaterepair.cam.ac.uk/refreeze (accessed 5 March 2024).3. For an influential example of internalism, see Jasanoff (2015).4. Now, the ‘carbondioxide-removal.eu’ newsletter. Available at: https://carbondioxide-removal.eu/news/ (accessed 1 August 2023).5. Searches were conducted in the spring of 2022.6. We later chose to include China’s Arctic policy for important additional context.7. In terms of technical effectiveness, some estimates in fact suggest interventions in the Arctic may be less effective than at lower latitudes (Duffey et al., 2023).8. For the latter, see Desch et al. (2017).9. There are some limited exceptions (Baiman, 2021; Moore et al., 2021).10. Although many invocations of soft geoengineering explicitly exclude SAI and MCB, arguments that employ the core distinction between global, risky approaches and more targeted benign ones have also been used to justify Arctic-specific MCB, due to the ‘vastly reduced levels of seeding’ making negative side effects ‘vastly reduced or eliminated’ (Latham et al., 2014: 9). The former UK Chief Scientific Advisor David King has also recently referred to MCB as ‘a biomimicry system’ (The Current, 2022). While much rarer, arguments about reduced side effects have also been applied to Arctic-targeted SAI (Lee et al., 2021).11. Van Wijngaarden et al.’s full review of environmental risks is found in their supplemental compendium (https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10602506).12. We thank an anonymous reviewer for the insight on remote impacts. In the extreme case, strong Arctic cooling without proportional cooling of the Antarctic would create a change in hemispheric heat balance which would most likely shift the Intertropical Convergence Zone southwards, leading to severe decreases in rainfall across the Sahel, parts of the Amazon and Northern India; however, this risk is usually discussed as an outcome of SAI specifically, due to its higher cooling potential (Duffey et al., 2023).13. 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Diplomacy
President Vladimir Putin, Prime Minister Narendra Modi and President Xi Jinping together at SCO Summit

India’s strategic reset in Tianjin

by Harsh V. Pant , Atul Kumar

The 2025 Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) Summit in Tianjin turned out to be the largest gathering in the institution’s history, convening 20 foreign leaders and 10 heads of international organisations, including United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres. More than a display of institutional breadth, the summit served as a stage for geopolitical signalling, most visibly through the joint presence of the leaders of China, India, and Russia. Their highly choreographed meetings were designed for maximum optics and deployed as deliberate instruments of international messaging, reflecting the emergence of a multipolar world. For Russian President Vladimir Putin, the summit provided an opportunity to engage closely with both India and China while demonstrating that Moscow is not bereft of partners. Chinese President Xi Jinping aimed to use the occasion to burnish his credentials as the architect of an emergent political and economic order. Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, however, conveyed a distinct and calculated message — that Indian foreign policy is rebalancing its strategic relations with the world’s major powers and restoring its posture to the centre. In doing so, New Delhi is translating its long-proclaimed doctrine of multi-alignment into practice, positioning itself as a pivotal actor in an increasingly multipolar system. Strategic Leverage  Since the end of the Cold War, Indian foreign policy has been adjusting by building its ties with the West in general and the US in particular. To illustrate in just one domain, New Delhi has purchased an array of advanced US systems, including C-17 and C-130 strategic airlift aircraft, P-8I maritime patrol planes, Chinook, Apache, and MH-60R helicopters, F404/414 engines, and MQ-9 drones, transactions that together totalled $24 billion between 2000 and 2024. This surge in US acquisitions has coincided with a marked decline in Russian influence: Moscow’s share of India’s arms imports fell from 76 per cent during 2009–2013 to just 36 per cent over the past five years. India’s pivot toward the US, and its rapid defence and economic diversification have kept Beijing on edge. During the Cold War, China extracted substantial strategic and economic benefits while playing a swing-state role between Washington and Moscow. Today, Chinese observers worry that India may play a similar role as its vaunted strategic autonomy has given way to a de facto US alignment, visible in defence procurement, economic cooperation, and a network of mini-laterals aimed at constraining Beijing. However, this narrative has softened somewhat after President Trump imposed a 50 per cent tariff on Indian exports, introducing a note of friction into the US-India equation. Against this backdrop, New Delhi and Beijing, cautiously engaging since the 2024 Kazan Summit, have stepped up their rapprochement efforts. At their bilateral meeting in Tianjin, both sides signalled a clear desire to restore stability and predictability: The focus on peace along the border and rebuilding mutual trust was unmistakable. Mr Xi emphasised strengthened communication, expanded exchanges, and multilateral cooperation, all aimed at returning bilateral relations to a pre-2020 baseline. Mr Modi, visiting China after seven years, framed a peaceful border as essential to the smooth development of the broader relationship. He also ensured that counterterrorism remained front and centre at the SCO, with the final Tianjin Declaration explicitly and emphatically condemning the Pahalgam terror attack in India. Structural Tension Vs Strategic Triangulation Beneath the polished optics, the India-China standoff remains unresolved. Around 60,000 troops on each side still face off along the Line of Actual Control, and Tianjin offered no concrete road map for demobilisation or border delimitation. Disputes over Pakistan, Tibet, and Taiwan persist, a reminder that diplomacy cannot paper over deep strategic fissures. Strategic triangulation adds another layer of complexity. Both capitals have long leveraged ties with third powers to boost bargaining power and extract economic or diplomatic advantage. Beijing seeks a show of unity with India against Washington’s tariffs but remains wary: If New Delhi secures a better deal, alignment with the US is always on the table. Institutionally, the SCO continues to lag behind Brics in global visibility, yet its operational significance is rising. China’s trade with SCO members hit $512.4 billion in 2024, doubling the 2018 level. Therefore, Mr Xi’s advocacy for a “new type of international relations”, coupled with initiatives such as the SCO Development Bank and multilateral cooperation in energy, infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and the digital economy, reflects a strategic calculus: to insulate Beijing from the volatility of Washington while steering the engines of future economic growth. Ultimately, the India-China meeting in Tianjin exemplified a nuanced balancing act: cooperation where feasible, vigilance where imperative, and a stark reminder that even as optics improve, the underlying geopolitical chessboard remains fiercely contested. Conclusion Mr Modi’s Tianjin visit and his meeting with Mr Xi signalled New Delhi’s growing international leverage. The summit remains low on concrete agreements, but it revitalised efforts to normalise ties and restart Chinese investment in India. Therefore, visa restrictions are loosening, direct flights are set to resume, and barriers to Chinese exports of fertiliser, machinery, and rare earths are gradually falling. Beneath the diplomatic optics, however, structural competition between India and China persists. Nevertheless, New Delhi is carefully striving to avoid overreliance on Washington, resisting a return to single-nation dependency. The India-China-Russia camaraderie on display in Tianjin sends a deliberate signal: Indian foreign policy will not be shy to reclaim its centrist, multi-aligned stance, leveraging strategic autonomy to navigate a complex, multipolar world. This commentary originally appeared in Business Standard.

Diplomacy
President of Russia Vladimir Putin meeting with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un (2025)

Why Xi, Putin and Kim on One Stage Matters

by Roie Yellinek

Beijing’s Victory Day parade in Tiananmen Square was designed to dazzle: ranks of uniformed troops, formations of aircraft, and an arsenal of new systems meant to underscore China’s rapid military modernization. But the most consequential image was not a missile or a stealth jet. It was a tableau of three leaders—Xi Jinping at the center, flanked by Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong Un—watching the spectacle together. The scene, widely broadcast and photographed, turned a commemorative event into a geopolitical marker. It was less a snapshot than a signal: the public normalization of a deepening alignment among China, Russia, and North Korea, at a moment when Western democracies are struggling to sustain cohesion on core strategic questions. The parade itself offered the familiar mixture of hardware and narrative. Coverage highlighted the unveiling or public confirmation of advanced systems across domains: upgraded intercontinental missiles, new submarine-launched ballistic missiles, hypersonic and anti-ship capabilities, long-range bombers, early warning aircraft, and a broad stable of unmanned platforms, including undersea vehicles and “loyal wingman” drones. Chinese media presented these developments as evidence of a “world-class” People’s Liberation Army (PLA) moving beyond legacy constraints and into truly multi-domain operations, with information, space, and cyber now integrated alongside land, sea, and air. Independent reporting catalogued the breadth of systems and emphasized a narrative of credible deterrence and strategic depth rather than mere choreography. Yet the more instructive message was political. The presence of Putin and Kim, alongside other leaders, was not a mere ceremonial occurrence. Each leader arrived with clear incentives to be seen at Xi’s side, and each gained by lending visual weight to Beijing’s story. For Moscow, the image reinforced the claim that Russia is not isolated, that it retains powerful partners and is embedded in a wider non-Western coalition. For Pyongyang, the moment was even more significant: an opportunity to step out of diplomatic isolation and be recognized publicly as a member of a consequential strategic grouping. For Beijing, hosting both leaders signaled that China can convene and coordinate—projecting status, reassuring sympathetic governments, and unsettling adversaries by hinting at a tighter web of cooperation among U.S. rivals. The convergence behind the optics has been building for years, and could have happened only on Chinese soil. China and Russia have expanded their coordination across energy, defense, and diplomatic, even as they preserve maneuvering room on sensitive issues. North Korea’s accelerating exchanges with Russia, alongside growing political warmth with Beijing, provide a third leg to this emerging tripod. None of this amounts to a formal alliance with mutual defense obligations. But it does resemble a strategic alignment held together by shared interests: resisting a U.S.-led order, blunting sanctions pressure, reducing vulnerability to Western technology restrictions, and demonstrating that alternatives exist to dollar-centric finance and Western supply chains. The choreography on the rostrum did not create this alignment; it made it more legible and clear. Memory politics is a key component of that legibility. Beijing’s decision to anchor the parade in the commemoration of victory over Japan allows contemporary power projection to be cloaked in a unifying moral narrative. China increasingly leverages World War II memory in diplomacy—shaping a “memory war” that reframes the post-1945 order and what is seen from China as its rightful place within it. Russia’s long-standing use of the “Great Patriotic War” plays a parallel role, justifying current policies through selective historical continuity. North Korea’s revolutionary mythology fits easily into this narrative architecture. By standing together at an anniversary of anti-fascist victory, the three leaders signaled an ideational convergence that complements their material cooperation: a claim to moral legitimacy as guardians of an alternative international vision. The military dimension of the parade, while not the core of this argument, still matters. Displays of a maturing triad—land-based ICBMs, submarine-launched systems, and an air-launched nuclear component—aim to convey survivable second-strike capacity. The public presentation of hypersonic and anti-ship systems is meant to complicate adversary planning in the Western Pacific. The range of unmanned platforms suggests an intent to saturate domains with relatively low-cost, attritable assets, improving persistence and compressing the sensor-to-shooter loop. It is prudent to treat parades cautiously: not all showcased systems are fully operational or fielded at scale, and performance claims are difficult to validate. But as an indicator, the breadth and integration of platforms reflect a planning culture committed to joint operations and “intelligentized” warfare, where AI-enabled targeting and decision support are not theoretical ambitions but programmatic priorities What, then, does the image of Xi–Putin–Kim actually change? First, it clarifies expectations. Observers no longer need to infer the trajectory of this triangular relationship from scattered bilateral overtures. The three leaders have chosen to make their alignment visible. Visibility creates deterrent value, raising the perceived costs of coercing any one member, and it can also facilitate practical cooperation: intelligence sharing, diplomatic coordination at the UN and other fora, synchronized signaling during regional crises, and mutually reinforcing sanctions-evasion practices. Second, it complicates Western planning. Even if Beijing keeps caution around direct military assistance in Europe or the Korean Peninsula, diplomatic top-cover, economic buffering, and technology flows short of lethal aid can still alter the correlation of forces over time. Finally, it resonates across the Global South. Many governments seek strategic autonomy and resist being forced into binary choices. The parade’s optics supplied a ready-made narrative for those who argue that the international system is already multipolar and that non-Western coalitions can deliver security and development without Western tutelage. The contrast with Western coordination was strikingly evident. In the transatlantic community, support for Ukraine remains substantial; however, debates about resource levels, war aims, and timelines have intensified. In the Indo-Pacific, there is a growing alignment on deterring coercion in the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea; however, national economic interests and differing risk tolerances result in uneven policies toward China. Across Europe and North America, electoral politics continue to inject volatility into foreign policy, complicating efforts to sustain long-term, bipartisan strategies. None of these frictions amounts to collapse, and there are genuine Western successes in coalition-building—from NATO enlargement to evolving minilateral formats in the Indo-Pacific. However, an analytically honest reading of the moment acknowledges that the authoritarian trio in Beijing has projected a unity of purpose that Western capitals currently struggle to match consistently. Three implications follow. The first is narrative competition. If Beijing, Moscow, and Pyongyang can turn a commemorative event into a global story about legitimacy and resilience, they will continue to use history as a strategic resource. The appropriate Western response is not to cede the narrative field but to invest in historically grounded, forward-looking messaging that explains the link between rules-based order and practical benefits—trade reliability, crisis management, and sovereignty protection—for diverse audiences. The second is coalition maintenance. Western policymakers will need to prioritize “coalition hygiene”: aligning export controls and investment screening where it matters most; building redundancy into critical supply chains; closing divergences in sanctions enforcement; and coordinating messaging so that tactical differences do not obscure strategic alignment. This requires political discipline more than new institutions. The third is theater integration. As the Beijing image suggested a cross-regional understanding among three adversarial capitals, allied planning must better account for cross-theater linkages—how actions in Europe affect deterrence in Asia, and vice versa—and ensure that resource allocations and industrial policies reflect genuinely global prioritization. It is important not to overstate. The emerging alignment among China, Russia, and North Korea is asymmetric and interest-based, not a tightly binding alliance. Beijing’s global economic integration imposes constraints that Moscow and Pyongyang do not share. Russia and North Korea each bring liabilities that China will manage carefully. Frictions—over technology, pricing, and regional equities—will persist. But the threshold crossed in Beijing is nonetheless meaningful. These governments judged that the benefits of public proximity now outweigh the costs. That judgment, once made, is difficult to reverse quickly; it tends to generate its own momentum through bureaucratic follow-through and sunk reputational costs. One image cannot rewrite the balance of power. It can, however, crystallize a trend and concentrate minds. The sight of Xi, Putin, and Kim standing together did exactly that. It captured an authoritarian convergence rooted in shared grievances and converging strategies, and it highlighted the challenge facing democracies that wish to preserve an open and stable order: maintaining the patience, unity, and policy discipline to act together. The test for the West is less whether it recognizes the signal—most capitals do—than whether it can convert recognition into sustained, collective action. If Beijing’s parade was a demonstration of choreography and intent, the appropriate answer is not a counter-parade, but the quieter work of alignment: aligning narratives with interests, interests with instruments, and instruments with partners. That work is not glamorous. It is, however, what turns a photo into policy.

Diplomacy
NEW YORK, USA - JUNE 21 2013 - United Nations security council hall headquartered in New York City, in a complex designed by architect Niemeyer open to public.

The UN in crisis: Justice without power, power without justice

by Francisco Edinson Bolvaran Dalleto

Abstract The United Nations (UN), eighty years after its creation, faces a structural crisis that reveals the tension between justice and power. This essay examines how the design of the Security Council, with its veto power, perpetuates an unequal order inherited from 1945 and limits the effectiveness of the collective security system. Through theoretical perspectives — Morgenthau, Schmitt, Habermas, Falk, and Strange — it is shown that international law remains subordinated to power interests, that proclaimed universality masks hegemonies, and that global economic dynamics lie beyond institutional reach. Cases such as Kosovo, Libya, Gaza, and Myanmar illustrate the paralysis and delegitimization of the Responsibility to Protect. Considering this scenario, two paths emerge: reforming multilateralism with limits on the veto and greater representativeness or resigning to a fragmented order. The conclusion is clear: without adaptation, the UN will become a symbolic forum, making chronic its inability to respond to current challenges. Dag Hammarskjöld, the second Secretary-General of the UN, warned: “The United Nations was not created to take us to heaven, but to save us from hell.” [1] Eighty years after its founding, that promise seems to falter in the face of multiple wars, such as those in Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, or Myanmar, among many others, with a sense of ineffectiveness, loss of prestige, and collective impotence being perceived: does the UN no longer fulfill the role it once assumed? At first glance, blame falls solely on the nature of the institution itself. But the root of the problem seems to lie not only in New York, but also in the main capitals of the world. The UN is nothing more than what States allow it to be. Its effectiveness depends on the will of those who comprise it; and the uncomfortable truth is that the great powers prefer to limit its scope rather than cede parcels of sovereignty. As John Rawls pointed out, a just international system requires that peoples accept common principles of justice. [2] Today, by contrast, it is a constant that collective interest systematically gives way to particular interest. The Security Council is the most evident symbol of this contradiction. It remains anchored in post-war logic, with five permanent members clinging to the privilege of the veto. That power, already met with skepticism in San Francisco in 1945, turned into a tool of paralysis. As Canada denounced in 2022, the veto is “as anachronistic as it is undemocratic” and has prevented responses to atrocities. [3] Aristotle said that “justice is equality, but only for equals.” [4] In the UN, the Assembly proclaims sovereign equality, while the Council denies it in practice: some States remain “more equal” than others. The UN Charter articulates its backbone in a few luminous rules: the prohibition of the use of force (Art. 2.4), non-intervention in internal affairs (Art. 2.7), and, as a counterbalance, the collective security system of Chapter VII (Arts. 39–42), which grants the Security Council the authority to determine threats to peace and authorize coercive measures. In parallel, Art. 51 preserves the right of self-defense against an “armed attack.” [5] This normative triangle — prohibition, collective security, defense — is the promise of a world governed by law and not by force, but it must be put into practice. In the 1990s, a dilemma arose: what to do when a State massacres its own population or is unable to prevent it? The political-legal response was the Responsibility to Protect (R2P), affirmed at the 2005 World Summit (paras. 138–139). [6] Its architecture is sequential: (I) each State has the primary responsibility to protect its population against genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing, and crimes against humanity; (II) the international community must help States fulfill that responsibility; and (III) if a State manifestly fails, the international community, through the Security Council, may adopt collective measures — preferably peaceful ones; as a last resort, coercive — case by case and in accordance with the Charter. Properly understood, R2P is not a license to intervene; it is a duty to protect framed within International Law. The historical record shows both its necessity and its perverse effects. Kosovo (1999) inaugurated, without authorization from the Council, the narrative of “humanitarian intervention,” based on a supposed “legitimate illegality.” [7] The precedent left a dangerous standard: humanitarian purposes invoked to circumvent the hard core of the Charter. Libya (2011) seemed to be the “ideal case” of R2P: the Council authorized “all necessary measures” to protect civilians. [8] However, the shift toward regime change eroded the trust of Russia and China, which since then have blocked robust resolutions on Syria, hollowing out the effectiveness of R2P. [9] The lesson is bitter: when protection is perceived as a vehicle of hegemony, the norm is delegitimized, and the veto becomes reflexive. Gaza and Myanmar display the other face of paralysis. In Gaza, the Council’s inability to impose sustainable ceasefires — despite patterns of hostilities that massively impact the civilian population — has shifted the debate to the General Assembly and the International Court of Justice through interstate actions and provisional measures. [10] In Myanmar, the genocide of the Rohingya mobilized condemnations, sanctions, and proceedings before the International Court of Justice (hereinafter, ICJ), [11] but did not trigger a coercive response from the Council. R2P exists on paper; its implementation is captive to the veto. Thus, the “right to have rights” that Arendt spoke of still depends on geopolitics. [12] History teaches that international law has always been strained by force. Rousseau warned that the strong seek to transform their power into law. [13] That is what the winners of 1945 did by crystallizing their hegemony in the Charter. And so, what Kant dreamed of as perpetual peace remains chained to an unequal order. [14] The UN, more than a republic of law, still seems a field of power. That fragility has opened space for alternatives. The BRICS, for example, have emerged as a heterogeneous bloc that combines the cohesion of historically homogeneous powers such as China and Russia with the diversity of India, Brazil, and South Africa. Paradoxically, their strength lies in articulating that heterogeneity against a common enemy: the concentration of power in the Security Council. [15] In a multipolar world, heterogeneity ceases to be a weakness and becomes a driver of plurality and resistance. The UN crisis is not only about security; it is also economic and distributive. The universalist promise of the Charter (Arts. 1.3 and 55–56, on cooperation for development) coexists with a global financial architecture whose heart beats outside the UN: the IMF and World Bank, designed in Bretton Woods, project a structural power — in Susan Strange’s terms — that conditions public policies, access to liquidity, and investment capacity. [16] The sovereign equality proclaimed in New York becomes blurred when the asymmetry of weighted voting in financial institutions (and the conditionality of credit) makes some States more “equal” than others. This is not a recent claim. Since the 1960s, the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development and, later, the Declaration on a New International Economic Order (1974), sought to correct structural problems such as the deterioration of terms of trade and the dependence between “center” and “periphery” countries, as Prebisch had pointed out. [17] However, the results were limited: ECOSOC lacks teeth, UNDP mobilizes cooperation but fails to change the rules of the system, and the 2030 Agenda sets important goals but without mandatory enforcement mechanisms. [18] The pandemic and the climate crisis have further worsened these inequalities, highlighting problems such as over-indebtedness, the insufficiency in the reallocation of Special Drawing Rights (SDRs), and climate financing that often arrives late and under unsuitable conditions. In this scenario, the New Development Bank of the BRICS emerges, seeking to open a path toward greater financial autonomy for developing countries. [19] International economic justice is the reverse side of collective security. Without fiscal space or technological transfer, the Global South remains trapped between development promises and adjustment demands. The UN has political legitimacy to outline a Global Economic Council (as proposed by the Stiglitz Commission in 2009) [20] to coordinate debt, international taxation, and global public goods, but it currently lacks normative muscle. The result is fragmentation: fiscal minilateralism, climate clubs, and value chains that distribute risks to the South and rents to the North. The solution does not lie simply in “more aid,” but in prudent rules such as: (I) a multilateral debt restructuring mechanism under UN auspices; [21] (II) effective international taxation on intangibles and the digital economy; [22] (III) binding compliance with the loss and damage fund in climate matters; [23] and (IV) a reform of quotas in IFIs that reflects the real weight of emerging economies. [24] Without constitutionalizing — even gradually — this economic agenda, sovereign equality will remain an empty liturgy and the discontent of the Global South a political fuel that erodes the UN from within. The truth is that the United Nations of 1945 no longer responds to the challenges of 2025. As the president of Brazil recently said: “The UN of 1945 is worth nothing in 2023.” [25] If States do not recover the founding spirit — placing collective interest above particular ones — the organization will remain prisoner of the veto and the will of a few. The question, then, is not whether the UN works, but whether States really want it to work. Taking the above into account, this essay will analyze the UN crisis from three complementary dimensions. First, the theoretical and philosophical framework that allows us to understand the tension between power and law will be addressed, showing how different authors highlight the structural roots of this contradiction. Second, historical episodes and current examples will be reviewed to illustrate the paralysis and democratic deficit of the organization. Finally, possible scenarios for the future will be projected, engaging in the exercise of evaluating the minimum reforms that could revitalize multilateralism in contrast to the alternative of critical global fragmentation. Considering all together, the argument is that the UN finds itself trapped between justice without power and power without justice, and that its survival depends on its ability to adapt to an international order radically different from that of 1945. I. The contradiction between power and law: Hans Morgenthau and political realism To understand the paralysis of the UN, it is useful to turn to Hans Morgenthau, a pioneer of realism in international relations. In his work “Politics Among Nations” (1948), he warned that the international order is always mediated by the balance of power and that legal norms only survive to the extent that they coincide with the interests of powerful States. [26] His idea is provocative: international law is not an autonomous order, but a language that powers use so long as it does not contradict their strategic objectives. Applied to the UN, this analysis is clear: the institution reflects less universal ethical commitment and more correlation of historical forces. The Security Council is not a neutral body, but the mirror of the hegemony of 1945, crystallized in Article 27 of the Charter, which enshrines the right of veto. The supposed universality of the UN is subordinated to a mechanism designed precisely to ensure that no action contrary to the superpowers could be imposed. Contemporary critiques confirm Morgenthau’s intuition. When Russia vetoes resolutions on Ukraine, [27] or the United States does the same regarding Gaza, [28] it becomes evident that international justice is suspended in the name of geopolitics. The legal is subordinated to the political. In this sense, the UN crisis is not an accident, but the logical consequence of its design, and what Morgenthau pointed out seventy years ago remains valid: as long as there is no coincidence between law and power, international norms will remain fragile. Political realism helps explain why the UN fails when it is most needed. States continue to act according to their national interests, even when this contradicts the international norms they themselves have subscribed to. The Security Council has become a space where powers project their strategies of influence, blocking collective actions whenever these affect their geopolitical priorities. The war in Ukraine, the invasion of Iraq in 2003, and the inaction in the face of the Rwandan genocide show that international law is applied selectively, reinforcing the idea that rules are valid only when they do not interfere with the power of the strongest. This pattern evidently erodes the legitimacy of the UN in the eyes of societies, because it generates the perception that the organization is incapable of representing the collective interest and, instead, merely reflects the correlation of forces of each historical moment. II. Carl Schmitt and the Myth of Universal Order Another voice that resonates is that of Carl Schmitt, who in “The Nomos of the Earth” (1950) argued that every international legal order arises from a founding political decision, that is, an act of power. [29] For Schmitt, there is no “universal law” that imposes itself; what is presented as universal is, in reality, the crystallization of a particular domain. The UN perfectly embodies this diagnosis. The founding discourse of San Francisco in 1945 spoke of “we the peoples of the United Nations,” [30] but in reality the Charter was written under the predominance of the winners of the Second World War. What was presented as a universal order of peace and security was, in fact, the codification of the Allied hegemony. Schmitt helps explain why the UN has never escaped that original logic. Although the General Assembly proclaims sovereign equality in Article 2 of the Charter, the structure of the Council reproduces the privilege of a few. [31] The international law of the UN appears, in Schmittian terms, as a “nomos” imposed by the winners, not as a true universal community. The consequence is a legitimate deficit that has persisted until today and explains much of the perception of ineffectiveness. The original structure of the UN perpetuates an unequal design that remains in force. The veto privilege is not only a defensive mechanism for the winners of the Second World War, but it has also functioned as a lock — one without keys — that prevents any real evolution of the system. Over eight decades, demands for reform have clashed with the resistance of those who benefit from keeping the rules intact. The contradiction is evident: developing States, which today represent the majority in the General Assembly, lack effective power in the most important decisions on international security. The gap between the universalist discourse of sovereign equality and the hierarchical practice of the Council undermines the credibility of the multilateral order. As long as this tension persists, the UN will hardly be able to become the space of global governance that the world requires more urgently than ever in the 21st century. III. Habermas and the Need for a Deliberative Community In contrast to this pessimism, Jürgen Habermas offers a different perspective. In “The Inclusion of the Other” (1996) and in later essays, he proposed moving toward a “constitutionalization of international law,” understood as the creation of a global normative space in which decisions are not based on force, but on rational deliberation. [32] From this perspective, the UN would be an imperfect embryo of a community of world citizens. The impact of this idea is enormous: it suggests that, beyond current deadlocks, the UN embodies the possibility of transforming power relations into processes of public deliberation. Article 1 of the Charter, which speaks of “maintaining international peace and security” and of “promoting friendly relations among nations,” can be read not only as a political mandate but also as a normative ideal of cosmopolitan coexistence. [33] Criticism of Habermas is evident: his proposal errs on the side of idealism in a world where national security interests remain paramount. However, his contribution is valuable because it allows us to think of the UN not only as a paralyzed body but also as a field of normative struggle. The problem is not only the strength of the vetoes but also the lack of will to transform that space into a true deliberative forum. [34] Thinking of the UN as a deliberative community requires recognizing that its current procedures do not guarantee authentic dialogue. Debate in the General Assembly is often reduced to formal statements, while crucial decisions, as everyone knows, are taken in restricted circles. The lack of effective mechanisms for the participation of non-state actors, such as regional organizations or civil society, further limits the inclusive character of the institution. Genuine deliberation should open spaces where multiple voices can influence decision-making processes, not only through speeches but by building binding consensus. However, the most powerful States fear losing control over the international agenda, which generates a vicious circle: an elitist governance system is maintained that protects privileges, but at the cost of sacrificing legitimacy and effectiveness. Thus, the promise of a deliberative order is reduced to a normative horizon that has not yet been realized. IV. Richard Falk and the Global Democratic Deficit A more recent contribution comes from Richard Falk, jurist and former UN rapporteur, who has insisted on the “democratic deficit” of the international order. In his view, the UN suffers from a structural contradiction: while the Charter proclaims the sovereignty of peoples, in practice it concentrates power in a small club of States. [35] This not only limits its effectiveness but also erodes its legitimacy in the eyes of the peoples of the world. The case of Palestine is emblematic. The General Assembly has repeatedly recognized the right of the Palestinian people to self-determination, but the veto in the Council blocks any effective measure. [36] Falk interprets this as evidence that the UN operates under a “democracy of States” but not under a “democracy of peoples.” The impact is devastating: millions of people perceive the organization not as a guarantor of rights, but as an accomplice to inequality. This leads us to a brief analysis of the International Criminal Court (ICC), born from the Rome Statute (1998), which promised a civilizational breakthrough: that the most serious crimes (“which affect the international community as a whole”) would not go unpunished. [37] Its design is cautious: complementarity (it acts only if the State is unwilling or unable), restricted jurisdiction (genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes, and — with limits — aggression), and jurisdiction based on territory, nationality, or referral by the Security Council. The two major milestones of the Council — referrals of Darfur (2005) and Libya (2011) —demonstrated both the potential and the limits. There were procedural advances and arrest warrants, but also contested operative clauses and very little cooperation for arrests. [38] The implicit message to the Global South was ambiguous: justice is universal, but its activation depends on the map of alliances in the Council. At the same time, key powers are not parties to the Statute (United States, China, Russia) and yet influence when the Court acts. The result fuels the argument of “winners’ justice” that several African foreign ministries have raised. The Court has tried to rebalance its map: investigations in Afghanistan, Palestine, and Ukraine, as well as arrest warrants against high-ranking authorities in cases of aggression or serious international crimes, have partly disproved the idea of a one-sided persecution. But the Achilles’ heel persists: without State cooperation, there are no executions of warrants; without the Council, there is no activation in key contexts; with the Council, there is a veto. In addition, Article 16 of the Statute allows the Council to suspend investigations for 12 renewable months, a political valve that subordinates the judicial to the geopolitical. [39] Integrating Falk’s critique into this essay makes it possible to highlight that the UN crisis is not only institutional but also democratic. Article 1.2 of the Charter proclaims respect for the principle of equal rights and the self-determination of peoples, but this ideal becomes empty when the veto power systematically contradicts it. [40] The democratic deficit of the UN is not limited to the Security Council but runs through the entirety of its institutional architecture. Developing countries have little influence on global economic governance, despite being the most affected by decisions on debt, trade, or climate financing. Unequal representation in bodies such as the IMF and the World Bank, together with dependence on international cooperation, reproduces relations of subordination that contradict the principles of equality and self-determination. Moreover, world citizenship lacks a real channel of influence: peoples see their demands diluted in state structures that do not always — or almost never — reflect their needs. This divorce between peoples and States turns the UN into an incomplete democracy, where the most vulnerable collective subjects fail to make their voices heard. Overcoming this limitation is essential to restoring the legitimacy of multilateralism. V. Susan Strange and the Geopolitics of the Economy Finally, Susan Strange adds another dimension: the economic one. In “The Retreat of the State” (1996), she argued that power in the contemporary world does not reside only in States, but also in transnational forces — financial markets, corporations, technologies — that escape institutional control. [41] The UN, designed in 1945 under the logic of sovereign States, lacks instruments to govern this new scenario. The impact is evident. While the Security Council is paralyzed in debates over traditional wars, global crises such as climate change, pandemics, or the regulation of artificial intelligence show that real power has shifted toward non-state actors. [42] Strange warns that if international institutions do not adapt to this reality, they risk becoming irrelevant. In this sense, the UN faces not only a problem of veto or representativeness, but also a historical mismatch: it was designed for a world of States and conventional wars, but today we live in a world of transnational interdependencies. The Charter, in its Article 2.7, continues to emphasize non-interference in the internal affairs of States, but this clause seems insufficient to govern global threats that transcend borders. [43] And it is vitally important to note that the global threats of the 21st century do not fit the traditional paradigm of interstate wars that has been preconceived. Challenges such as climate change, pandemics, and technological revolutions pose risks that no State can face alone. However, the UN lacks effective mechanisms to coordinate global responses in these areas. The fragmentation of climate governance, competition for vaccines during the pandemic, and the absence of clear rules to regulate large digital corporations illustrate the magnitude of the challenge. In this context, state sovereignty proves insufficient, and the principle of non-interference becomes obsolete. If the UN does not develop innovative instruments that integrate transnational actors and strengthen multilateral cooperation, it risks becoming a merely declarative forum, incapable of offering concrete solutions to the problems that most affect contemporary humanity — and it is important that these critiques be heard before it is too late. VI. Current Scenarios All the above opens up a momentous dilemma of our time: either we reform multilateralism so that law contains “force,” or we normalize “exception” forever. [44]Scenario A: A minimal but sufficient cosmopolitan reform. A critical group of States —supported by civil society and epistemic communities — agrees to self-limit the veto in situations of mass atrocities (ACT-type codes of conduct), promotes the expansion of the Council with some permanent presence of the Global South (India, Brazil, Germany, Japan, and one African seat, probably South Africa), and strengthens “Uniting for Peace” mechanisms to circumvent blockages. [45] The ICJ gains centrality with advisory opinions politically bound by prior compliance commitments, the ICC ensures interstate cooperation through regional agreements, and the UN creates a rapid civil deployment capacity for the protection of civilians, minimal cybersecurity, and climate response. [46] In the economic sphere, a Global Economic Council emerges within the orbit of the UN to coordinate debt, climate, and international taxation with common standards. [47] Scenario B: Ordered fragmentation of anarchy. Blockages become chronic. Security shifts to ad hoc coalitions and minilateralisms (NATO Plus, QUAD, expanded BRICS), economic governance is decided in restricted membership forums, and the UN remains a symbolic forum without decision-making capacity. [48] Exception becomes the rule: “preventive interventions,” widespread unilateral sanctions, proliferation of private military companies, opaque cyber-operations, and a data ecology controlled by a few platforms. [49] International law endures as a language, but its social force dissipates; incentives push toward strategic autonomy and legal security by blocs. In other words, the future of the UN will depend on its ability to balance justice and force in an international environment marked by multipolarity. I insist that one possible path is to advance toward gradual reforms that strengthen transparency, broaden the representativeness of the Council, and grant greater autonomy to the General Assembly and judicial bodies. Another, far more radical, is the consolidation of parallel mechanisms that de facto replace the role of the UN through regional alliances, ad hoc coalitions, and alternative economic forums. Both paths involve risks: reform may stagnate in the lowest common denominator, while fragmentation may deepen inequalities and conflicts. However, what seems clear is that maintaining the status quo will only prolong paralysis and further weaken the legitimacy of the multilateral system. The choice between reform or irrelevance will, ultimately, be the decisive dilemma of the 21st century. I believe that three milestones will indicate where we are headed: (1) effective adoption of commitments to abstain from vetoes in the face of mass atrocities; (2) funded and operational implementation of the climate loss and damage mechanism; (3) cooperation with the ICC in politically sensitive cases, without ad hoc exceptions. [50] VII. Conclusion: Between Disillusionment and Hope The UN marks eighty years caught in Pascal’s dilemma: “force without justice is tyranny, justice without force is mockery.” [51] The diagnosis is clear: the Security Council has turned justice into a mockery, while the great powers have exercised force without legitimacy. [52] The result is a weakened organization, incapable of responding to the most urgent tragedies of our time. However, it would be a mistake to fall into absolute cynicism. Despite its evident limitations and alongside all that has been mentioned, the UN remains the only forum where 193 States engage in dialogue, the only space where there exists even a minimal notion of common international law. [53] Its crisis should not lead us to abandon it, but rather to radically rethink it. Perhaps the path lies in what Habermas calls a “constitutionalization of international law,” as previously proposed, or in a profound reform of the Security Council that democratizes the use of force. [54] History teaches that institutions survive if they manage to adapt. [55] If the UN does not, it will be relegated to the status of a giant that humanity needs but that is paralyzed, a symbol of a past that no longer responds to the challenges of the present. [56] But if States recover something of the founding spirit of 1945, perhaps it can still save us from hell, even if it never takes us to heaven. [57] VIII. References [1] Dag Hammarskjöld. Hammarskjöld. Citado en Brian Urquhart. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1972.[2] John Rawls. The Law of Peoples. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999.[3] Permanent Mission of Canada to the United Nations. Statement on the Veto. UN General Assembly, 26 April 2022.[4] Aristóteles. Política. Traducido por Antonio Gómez Robledo. México: UNAM, 2000.[5] Naciones Unidas. Carta de las Naciones Unidas. San Francisco: Naciones Unidas, 26 de junio de 1945.[6] Naciones Unidas. World Summit Outcome Document. A/RES/60/1, 24 October 2005.[7] Jean-Jacques Rousseau. The Social Contract. New York: Penguin, 1968.[8] Immanuel Kant. Perpetual Peace: A Philosophical Sketch. 1795; repr., Indianapolis: Hackett, 2003.[9] Oliver Stuenkel. The BRICS and the Future of Global Order. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2015.[10] Susan Strange. States and Markets. London: Pinter, 1988. 11. Hedley Bull. The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics. New York: Columbia University Press, 1977.[12] Kenneth Waltz. Theory of International Politics. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1979.[13] Martha Finnemore. National Interests in International Society. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1996.[14] Alexander Wendt. Social Theory of International Politics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.[15] Francis Fukuyama. The End of History and the Last Man. New York: Free Press, 1992.[16] Samuel Huntington. The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996.[17] Joseph Nye. Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics. New York: Public Affairs, 2004.[18] Joseph Nye. The Future of Power. New York: Public Affairs, 2011.[19] Robert Keohane y Joseph Nye. Power and Interdependence. Boston: Little, Brown, 1977.[20] Robert Keohane. After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World Political Economy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984.[21] Stephen Krasner. Structural Conflict: The Third World Against Global Liberalism. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985.[22] Robert Cox. “Social Forces, States and World Orders: Beyond International Relations Theory.” Millennium: Journal of International Studies 10, no. 2 (1981): 126–55.[23] Robert Cox. Production, Power, and World Order: Social Forces in the Making of History. New York: Columbia University Press, 1987.[24] Charles Kindleberger. The World in Depression, 1929–1939. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973.[25] John Ikenberry. After Victory: Institutions, Strategic Restraint, and the Rebuilding of Order after Major Wars. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001.[26] John Ikenberry. Liberal Leviathan: The Origins, Crisis, and Transformation of the American World Order. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011.[27] Paul Kennedy. The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers. New York: Random House, 1987.[28] Michael Doyle. Ways of War and Peace: Realism, Liberalism, and Socialism. New York: W. W. Norton, 1997.[29] Charles Beitz. Political Theory and International Relations. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979.[30] Andrew Moravcsik. “Taking Preferences Seriously: A Liberal Theory of International Politics.” International Organization 51, no. 4 (1997): 513–53[31] Peter Katzenstein, ed. The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity in World Politics. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996.[32] Friedrich Kratochwil. Rules, Norms, and Decisions: On the Conditions of Practical and Legal Reasoning in International Relations and Domestic Affairs. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989.[33] Nicholas Onuf. World of Our Making: Rules and Rule in Social Theory and International Relations. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1989.[34] Christian Reus-Smit. The Moral Purpose of the State: Culture, Social Identity, and Institutional Rationality in International Relations. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999.[35] Martha Finnemore y Kathryn Sikkink. “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change.” International Organization 52, no. 4 (1998): 887–917.[36] Michael Barnett y Martha Finnemore. Rules for the World: International Organizations in Global Politics. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2004.[37] Ian Hurd. After Anarchy: Legitimacy and Power in the United Nations Security Council. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007.[38] Allen Buchanan y Robert Keohane. “The Legitimacy of Global Governance Institutions.” Ethics & International Affairs 20, no. 4 (2006): 405–37.[39] Thomas Franck. The Power of Legitimacy among Nations. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990.[40] David Held. Democracy and the Global Order: From the Modern State to Cosmopolitan Governance. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995.[41] Ian Hurd. After Anarchy: Legitimacy and Power in the United Nations Security Council. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007.[42] Permanent Mission of Canada to the United Nations. Statement on the Veto. UN General Assembly, 26 April 2022.[43] Oliver Stuenkel. The BRICS and the Future of Global Order. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2015.[44] Naciones Unidas. World Summit Outcome Document. A/RES/60/1, 24 October 2005.[45] Corte Internacional de Justicia. Advisory Opinions. La Haya: CIJ, varios años.[46] Naciones Unidas. Report of the High-level Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change. A/59/565, 2 December 2004.[47] Samuel Huntington. The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996.[48] Robert Keohane. After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World Political Economy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984.[49] Thomas Franck. The Power of Legitimacy among Nations. New York: Oxford University Press, 1990.[50] Joseph Nye. The Future of Power. New York: Public Affairs, 2011.[51] Blaise Pascal. Pensées. París: Éditions Garnier, 1976.[52] Brian Urquhart. Hammarskjöld. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1972.[53] Naciones Unidas. Charter of the United Nations. San Francisco: Naciones Unidas, 1945.[54] Jürgen Habermas. The Postnational Constellation: Political Essays. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2001.[55] John Ikenberry. Liberal Leviathan: The Origins, Crisis, and Transformation of the American World Order. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011.[56] Paul Kennedy. The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers. New York: Random House, 1987.[57] David Held. Democracy and the Global Order: From the Modern State to Cosmopolitan Governance. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995.

Diplomacy
2025 SCO Summit - Tianjin Meijiang International Convention and Exhibition Center

SCO Summit 2025: an illusion of smiles and handshakes

by Hammad Gillani

Introduction The Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) is an intergovernmental organization with significant Chinese influence and spans over the vast Eurasian region. Considered to be among the world’s largest regional organizations, SCO has gained immense attraction and a boost in its mission, particularly in 21st-century geopolitics.(SCO 2017) Since its very inception in 2001, the SCO has been promoting three main objectives, including regional stability (terrorism, extremism and separatism), multilateral cooperation (politics, trade, economy and culture), and a multipolar global order.(Calderonio 2025) The fundamental geopolitical dynamics have been further elucidated by the SCO summit in 2025. Held in Tianjin province of China, the SCO 2025 was a notable diplomatic event where friends and foes were brought under a common framework. By extraordinary meet-and-greets, the summit sends a clear message to the Western bloc that accepting the realities is the key to success in the current international structure. While, on the stage, the summit depicted a united multipolar world, but the internal differences between the member states reveal the illusion behind the optics. Tianjin Summit: Strategic Signaling to the West The CCP selected Tianjin city for the summit, primarily due to the following reasons: · Historically, Tianjin had been under the control of European powers. China signals the West of its supremacy by holding a summit in the same city.· Located very close to Beijing, Tianjin is a port city that represents China’s economic might.· Tianjin is a technological and industrial hub of China. It represents China's readiness to advance its vision of peaceful development.· Tianjin is also a critical junction of China’s BRI project, which further glorifies China’s growing economic significance in the international arena. No doubt, China tried its best to project its economic superiority to the west by selecting Tianjin for the summit. But this selection can be considered as China centrism by the member states. It will give rise to the feelings of Chinese brand promotion rather than collective ownership. Summit Significance The current geopolitical dynamics make the 2025 SCO summit unique. This year witnessed the revival of President Trump in the Oval Office, which altered the political and economic status quo of the international arena in a very short period of time.(Jonathan Swan 2023) The Russia-Ukraine war is still there. The Trump administration has tried its best to somehow resolve the Ukraine war, but it has miserably failed to do so. The previous Biden administration, along with the European allies, had frozen the Russian assets. In addition, the ongoing Israel-Gaza tensions have further added fuel. This year witnessed the combined US-Israel efforts to denuclearize Iran through military means. Israel has put an iron hand on the axis of resistance. Last but not least, 2025 once again witnessed a military standoff between Pakistan and India, where China provided immense support to Pakistan.(Clary 2025) Similarly, the situation in the Middle East has completely deteriorated. The 2025 SCO summit gathers half of the world’s states on a single platform with a prime motto of multi-polarity to be the sole solution to increasing crises in the international arena. In spite of all this, this summit didn’t result in any new development. As usual, the initiatives were taken but remain merely declaratory. The consensus-driven decision-making has caused serious hurdles for the SCO to deduce some fruitful results. The difference of opinion of the member states belonging to different parts and blocs of the world creates a mess that at the end cannot produce any concrete decision. Dead Economies: Response to Trump After the recent tensions between the US and India due to the tariff issue, President Trump titled both Russia and India as dead economies. In a broad context, Trump slammed the eastern powers, saying that without US assistance, their economies are considered as fatal.(Kay 2025) However, President Trump's bold claims were shattered by the attendance of 26 world leaders at the SCO summit in 2025. To foster regional and global cooperation, nations from opposing ideologies came together under the SCO banner. Furthermore, the idea that China, Russia, and India were isolated nations that the West ignored was destroyed. Instead, the three major regional titans teamed up to strengthen their connections even more. Yet, one can say that this collective response to the West is just for a stage show. It is due to the fact that SCO is surrounded by internal rivalries and differences of opinion in driving the international structure. Concerns of Central Asian states are its best manifestation. According to them, SCO is becoming more a China-centric platform rather than a multi-vocal stage. Moreover, Chinese debt trap diplomacy and Uyghur issues are also a cause of divide. Similarly, Indian strategic rivalry with China and its close ties with the West, i.e., QUAD, will always be a major loophole in the SCO. The member states know the reality that the world is heading towards Multipolarity, but the US dominance and hold in the international arena can’t be neglected. UN Chief Participation The participation of the United Nations Chief, Antonio Guterres, in the SCO meeting at this juncture also gives more strength to the multipolar manifestation of the international system. This visit is of huge importance, as Trump's political and pro-Israeli actions have caused the allies, particularly the UN and European allies, to lose their confidence. By attending the SCO summit, Guterres positively sent the message that only the new international order dominated by China could provide a practical solution to global regional peace and security. Xi, in response, showed his willingness to work with the UN.(Fisayo 2025) But his statement is more like just a symbolic gesture. This is due to the fact that SCO, up till now, can’t meet the institutional level of the UN, NATO or the EU. With weak institutional structure, including consensus-based decision-making, absence of supranational authority, no permanent parliament or court, etc., the SCO is still very far away from that of the Western security and economic bloc. Thus, the participation of the UN Chief was no doubt of much significance, but the participation has to go beyond declaring statements and symbolic gestures. East Meets West: NATO Boots in SCO NATO’s prominent member state, Turkey, participated in the SCO summit 2025.(Xinhua 2025) In view of recent geopolitical dynamics, the revival of Turkey has increased its vitality. The role of Turkey in post-Assad Syria and its continuous support to Gaza has emboldened its footprints in the region. The strained relations between Turkey and Israel further added to the duel. Moreover, in the recent Indo-Pak conflict of May 2025, Turkey played its vital part assisting Pakistan alongside China against India. President Erdogan’s participation signals to the West that nations have many balls in the air to play with. Not only Turkey, but also the Slovakian Prime Minister also participated in the summit. Note that Slovakia is a member of both NATO and the European Union. Fico has a pro-Russian view, maintaining neutrality in the foreign policies. His government also denies President Trump’s proposal of raising NATO defense spending up to 5%. Similarly, the ideological rift with the EU has further broadened the gap. While meeting on the sidelines of the SCO summit 2025, President Putin praised Robert Fico’s policies, saying, “We are very grateful that you and your government are following an independent foreign policy and are not contributing to the widespread anti-Russo sentiment that is engulfing most of Europe. Right now, there are constant attempts to spread fear about Russia's alleged plan to attack Europe.”(Reuters 2025) In addition, many non-NATO US allies participated in the SCO summit 2025. These include Azerbaijan and Armenia. Armenia unquestionably belongs to the Russian Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO). But the latest peace brokered by the Trump administration between Azerbaijan and Armenia over the region of Nagorno-Karabakh has reduced the Russian influence in the region. Their participation in the summit at such a critical time suggests that the eastern flank, especially the PRC and China, can’t be ignored.(Yerevan 2025) Now, it seems like there is a clear divide in the western blocs i.e. NATO or the EU, and the SCO is going to attract these divided western members. But, that’s not the only case. There is also another side of the coin. No doubt, Turkey is taking interest in eastern initiatives, but still it is not given any permanent member status by China and Russia. It is still under the observer status. This is because Turkey has been an essential member of NATO for a very long period of time. As of now, Turkey is trying to balance its relationship with east and west. It can’t simply ignore the Western dominance and, at the same time, can’t leave the rising multipolar world alone. Similarly, several EU states, including Hungary and Slovakia, have some differences with the European Union, but it does not mean that they will be completely switching their blocs. Moreover, these EU states have a very low status in the Eastern Bloc, while on the other hand, they enjoy a higher degree of autonomy in the EU. Sino-Indian Convergence The participation of Indian Prime Minister Modi in the SCO summit 2025 after a five-year gap was an immediate shift. India emerged as a key ally of the United States in the Indo-Pacific, and the United States recognized India as the region's “Net Security Provider.”(Hassan and Ali 2025) But the recent clash between the Trump administration and India over the tariff issue and Trump’s supportive statements for Pakistan have created a political divide between the two allies. Participation of the Indian prime minister in the SCO summit explicitly signals to the US that they have an independent foreign policy, and if not the US, then the eastern flank is ready to cooperate with them. And the world witnessed that both Xi and Putin welcomed PM Modi warmly, signaling to the US that they have been successful in destroying the Indo-Pacific struggle of the US against China. President Xi stated while meeting with PM Modi, “Let the dragon and elephant dance together.”(Simone McCarthy 2025) Now, this statement by the Chinese leader is just like a symbolic gesture. The realities can’t be ignored. China is continuously increasing its military arsenals and building a new military city, but where? In the backyard of India. In addition, there are border disputes between both the states. For this, the Indian strategic thinking cannot compromise its security over diplomatic relations with China. Here, the long-term vital ally of India is only the US in the Indo-Pacific. The dragon and elephant will not dance together until and unless historical grievances, security dilemma and public perception are all addressed. Institutional Limitations of SCO   US Foreign Policy Failure From the very first day of his second tenure, President Trump has been trying to create a divide between China and Russia. During his election campaign, he used to propagate a pro-Putin stance, stating that he will be going to end the Ukraine war in just 24 hours.(Hagstrom 2023) Similarly, he has given multiple times this statement that Russia is a very big power, and the US doesn’t want to strain its relation with Russia. Trump also accepted Putin’s demands of expelling NATO from its eastern borders. At the same time, Trump started a tariff war against China. He tried to get the favor of the Russian president while creating tensions with China. This policy is not new. President Richard Nixon had done this before. But the current geopolitical dynamics have completely changed as compared to the past, and this is the reason that Trump’s Nixonian version has miserably failed.(Wright 2025) In doing so, it seems that the Trump administration has lost the trust of its historical allies, including the European states and India. Despite the fact that the ongoing situation is going against the US, we can’t ignore the strategic hold of the US in the international arena. Whether it is trade, security or technology, the US is still considered to be the dominant player. The rising multipolarity has no doubt created dents in the Western system, but the dollar monopoly in the international markets is still playing its part, with many nations, whether by choice or not, conducting their financial transactions in the US dollar. Cooperation and Caution in SCO The SCO member states are somehow caught in between balancing and hedging. They not only try to balance between East and West but also between China and Russia. The Central Asian republics can’t ignore Russia, which is sitting in their backyard. Similarly, they want Chinese to invest but simultaneously restrain from overdependence on China. Then comes the case of Iran, which tends to be active in eastern diplomatic and security initiatives. The western sanctions and isolation forced it to join the eastern camp. But, due to its economic constraints, Iran does not have much say in the decision-making process. Last but not least, Pakistan and India. Both rivals try to improve their image by projecting their different stances in the Eastern Bloc. Pakistan plays its part in the SCO to gain regional popularity, but its fragile economy is again the main hurdle. On the other hand, India does a to-and-fro motion by maintaining close strategic relations with the West, especially the US and on the sidelines, not ignoring Russia completely. This creates a fractured picture, which demonstrates that the outer layer is hard, but the inner one is soft enough to be broken by just a small shock. Conclusion The 2025 SCO summit has become a landmark event where friends and foes were seen under a common banner. It can be considered a political power show where China and Russia conveyed a clear message to the West that capitalist behavior is no longer a viable option for anyone. The world is moving towards a multipolar region where there are multiple options for states to collaborate with. But, simultaneously, the internal contradictions, fractured structure and geopolitical hedging have surrounded the SCO stage. Thus, we can conclude that the SCO is more a symbolic platform where cohesion and coherence is still absent. 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