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Diplomacy
Paz pereira

Bolivia: The challenges facing Rodrigo Paz’s incoming government

by Franz Flores

After ending two decades of MAS hegemony, Rodrigo Paz assumes the presidency of Bolivia with the legitimacy of change, but faces the enormous challenge of governing without a solid party structure.   The center-left candidate from the Christian Democratic Party (PDC), Rodrigo Paz, secured victory with 54% of the votes, gaining nearly ten points over his rival, Jorge “Tuto” Quiroga. This triumph not only puts an end to two decades of dominance by the Movement for Socialism (MAS), led by Evo Morales, but also grants strong legitimacy to the new administration. However, the political challenges facing the government of Paz, set to take office on November 9, are substantial.   The first major test for Paz will be consolidating his power base in the legislature. The main weakness lies in the fact that the Christian Democratic Party (PDC) functioned as a “rented womb”—an instrumental vehicle lacking social or national roots to support the candidacy. Although Paz managed to attract votes from the MAS “hard core” in several regions, he did not inherit his predecessor’s party structure or mobilization capacity. This fragility within the party gives rise to two points of friction.   Within the PDC’s parliamentary bloc, multiple factions could emerge, each seeking its share of power. The tensions already visible between Paz and his running mate, Edman Lara, during the campaign could deepen, complicating executive governance and the management of the Plurinational Legislative Assembly (ALP).   At the same time, Paz will need to build consensus with other parties. Although he enjoys the explicit support of Samuel Doria Medina’s Unidad party—formalized during the runoff—the relationship with Quiroga’s party, LIBRE, is more strained. Despite sharing ideological affinities (market economy, openness to the world, respect for institutions), the aftermath of the aggressive campaign will make an alliance difficult. A simple majority in the ALP is secured through the PDC–Unidad alliance, but deeper reforms—such as a potential constitutional change—will require rapprochement and negotiation with LIBRE, which holds the key to the two-thirds majority.   A second crucial challenge will be the relationship with powerful and decisive social movements. While the support of these organizations for the PDC ticket was a determining factor in its victory, it does not guarantee unconditional loyalty. With a strong history of political empowerment, these groups will seek to safeguard their privileges and, if they feel sidelined, could resort to mobilizations that threaten social stability. Their backing will be essential to legitimize any economic or social adjustment. How the new government manages tensions with these sectors—and how it handles the legacy of “Masismo”—will be vital to maintaining national stability. In many ways, these are anti-system forces capable of obstructing Paz’s government.   The new administration’s ability to pursue any economic or social policy depends on overcoming these two political challenges: securing a legislature aligned with the executive and establishing effective coordination with social movements.   Once these political hurdles are addressed, the next major challenge will be economic. Paz inherits a country in crisis, facing a shortage of U.S. dollars, inflation, and dwindling international reserves. The removal of fuel subsidies—a crucial step for fiscal sustainability—could trigger serious social unrest. The precedent of 2010, when Evo Morales was forced to reverse a similar measure under pressure from social movements, underscores the delicacy of the situation.   October 19 not only marked the end of a political era but also opened a crucial question: Is Bolivia heading toward genuine transformation—or merely a continuation of the MAS model by other means?   The answer to this question will determine the country’s direction in the coming years. If Rodrigo Paz’s new government chooses the path of genuine transformation, it will be essential to undertake structural reforms aimed at strengthening democratic institutions. These reforms would include reducing presidentialism and establishing a justice system free from political influence.   If, on the other hand, the Paz administration focuses solely on addressing the most pressing economic issues—such as inflation and fuel shortages—while ignoring their deeper causes, the MAS model may well endure. That model is characterized by a narrow-based economy, lacking significant industrialization and stable job creation.   It is likely that MAS, now without a parliamentary majority, will initially grant the new administration some room to maneuver. However, the political landscape will not be fully defined until next year’s subnational elections. Only then will the new balance of power in the country become clearer. For now, Bolivia is taking its first steps beyond the hegemonic dominance of MAS and the shadow of Morales.

Diplomacy
Aerial view Panama Canal, third set of locks, water shortages, maritime traffic, water reuse vats, summer drought.

What CK Hutchison told us in the Panama Case?

by Wallace Loo

The attempted sale of CK Hutchison’s Panama Canal operations to the US-based company BlackRock and Terminal Investment Limited was more than a commercial transaction. When Beijing publicly opposed the deal, branding it a betrayal of national interests, it transformed into a case study in how global business is being reshaped by strategic rivalry. The controversy illustrates a deeper question: Can Hong Kong’s leading conglomerates still operate on commercial logic alone, or are they inevitably drawn into the geopolitical contest between the United States and China? For Hutchison, the Panama case shows that the room for neutrality is shrinking. Why does it matter? Beijing’s intervention signals to Hong Kong businesses and foreign investors alike that commercial neutrality is no longer assured. Loyalty, alignment, and political sacrifice are emerging as expectations alongside profit and efficiency. For global decision-makers, this raises two critical issues: Why did Hutchison seek to exit its Panama Canal holdings in the first place? Why did Beijing judge it necessary to intervene in a transaction that, on the surface, was driven by corporate strategy? Why Hutchison sold its Panama Canal operations? 1. Strategic Realignment Toward Core Businesses CK Hutchison has steadily repositioned itself around two “twin engines”, i.e. real estate in Asia and infrastructure in Europe. While ports in Latin America once fit into its global footprint, they were never central to this model. By selling its Panama Canal operations, Hutchison freed resources to consolidate strengths where it sees long-term stability and growth. This is part of a deliberate shift visible over the past decade: acquiring the German infrastructure firm ISTA in 2017 and securing UK regulatory approval in 2024 for the £11 billion merger of Vodafone UK and Hutchison’s subsidiary Three. These moves point to a concentration of capital in Europe’s regulated infrastructure and Asia’s high-demand property markets, underscoring a deliberate pivot toward strengthening European operations and ensuring cash flow visibility. This implies that Hutchison is reducing its exposure and a systematic exit to regions marked by political uncertainty and doubling down on reinvesting into higher-yielding and strategically aligned assets, particularly in European infrastructure platform while deepening its Asian real estate footprint. For governments and investors, this suggests that Hong Kong conglomerates are not retreating from globalization but are planning to recalibrate toward safer, higher-visibility assets. 2. Capitalizing on Market Timing and Asset Valuation The divestment also reflected classic Hutchison discipline: Buying early and exiting when valuations reach the peak. With global demand for strategic infrastructure rising, the Panama Canal assets commanded a premium. The resulting HK$19 billion in proceeds and a sharp rise in share price underlined investor confidence. Such timing underscores Hutchison’s longstanding strategy of opportunistic repositioning. This divestment was both value-accretive and strategically well-timed. By crystallizing gains now, the group strengthens its balance sheet and cash-reserve, maintaining its flexibility to reinvest or return capital to shareholders. For policymakers, this implies that global infrastructure assets are increasingly financialized. Strategic nodes like the Panama Canal are no longer just trade arteries but high-value commodities in global capital markets. Governments must therefore view divestments not only as corporate decisions but as moves that can shift control of strategic assets between geopolitical actors. 3. Geopolitical Considerations and Risk Mitigation The Panama Canal is a corridor of strategic significance and what US-President Donald Trump calls Chinese ownership on the potential dual-use nature of port terminals there inevitably drew scrutiny in Washington. U.S. allies have already tightened the screening of Chinese-linked infrastructure deals and the EU’s 2019 FDI framework explicitly flagged ports as areas requiring “special oversight”. Against this backdrop, Hutchison sought to avoid being cast as a “Chinese state-backed actor”, an extension of Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative. Hutchison has taken deliberate steps to present itself as a neutral and commercially driven multinational investor, rather than an extension of Chinese state policy. The company restructured in 2015 to a Cayman Islands base carefully positioning itself apart from state-linked Chinese enterprises, which creates an international legal identity rather than retaining a mainland Chinese or Hong Kong corporate domicile. By exiting Panama, Hutchison not only monetized assets but also reduced exposure to the intensifying Sino-U.S. rivalry in one of the world’s most contested trade chokepoints. For European and U.S. decision-makers, this implies that Hutchison’s move signals how Hong Kong firms navigate geopolitical pressure. It shows that even Chinese-origin conglomerates may prefer retreat to avoid being entangled in state rivalries. Hutchison pre-emptively mitigated the risk of being labelled a “Chinese state proxy” in a critical geopolitical theatre. This move not only alleviated Western concerns about Hutchison’s control of Panama’s ports but also demonstrated the group’s ability to act with commercial neutrality and flexibility, preserving its ability to operate, finance, and expand in Western markets without being constrained by the “Chinese capital” label. For Beijing, however, this retreat risks weakening China’s global port footprint. This highlights a potential divergence between the commercial logic of Hong Kong firms and China’s strategic ambitions. Why did Beijing intervened? 1. Loss of Chinese Strategic Assets and Diplomatic Advantage The Panama Canal is among the world’s most critical maritime chokepoints and control of its ports carries weight far beyond commerce. For China, investment in Latin American terminals has been part of a wider strategy to shape global shipping routes and enhance strategic reach. From Beijing’s perspective, CK Hutchison’s divestment was more than a business transaction. This was a strategic setback. The transfer of control to U.S.-linked interests was seen as a symbolic “recapture” of the terminals, which weakens China’s presence at a vital corridor. Within the Chinese leadership, the ports had been regarded as potential bargaining leverage in trade negotiations with Washington. But this loss reduced Beijing’s diplomatic toolkit at a time of rising frictions. The episode illustrates how Chinese policymakers increasingly view overseas ports as instruments of geopolitical positioning, not just commercial assets. Hutchison’s decision to sell underscored a broader reality: not all Chinese-affiliated enterprises act in alignment with state objectives. For Beijing, this implies that the Panama case highlighted the limits of relying on Hong Kong conglomerates to advance strategic interests abroad. For foreign governments and firms, it signalled both China’s heightened sensitivity to divestments in contested regions and the growing tension between corporate autonomy and state geopolitical expectations. 2. Absence of Beijing’s Prior Approval Sparked Political Backlash In the Panama Canal divestment, Beijing’s leadership reacted strongly against CK Hutchison’s “transaction first, then approval” approach. Beijing expressed dissatisfaction and even instructed state-owned enterprises to suspend new collaborations with the Li family, who serve as the controlling shareholders and principal decision-makers of Hutchison. Hutchison defended this sale as a “purely commercial and competitive process” by emphasizing Mediterranean Shipping Company as the principal buyer. Yet, in the context of intensifying Sino-U.S. rivalry, this stance was no longer acceptable. Regulatory pressure and political intervention from Beijing slowed negotiations, preventing the transaction from proceeding as planned. The broader precedent is clear: in strategically sensitive areas, Beijing now expects Hong Kong firms to align commercial decisions with state priorities. Neutrality is no longer an option. This marks a fundamental shift in the operating environment, binding the leading Hong Kong conglomerates more closely to state interests and constraining their room for independent strategic choices. For policymakers and investors, this implies that the Panama case shows how Beijing is extending political oversight into commercial domains once seen as autonomous. Hong Kong enterprises face increasing limits on their ability to separate business logic from state loyalty, particularly where Sino-U.S. rivalry is at stake. 3. Public Opinion as Strategic Pressure: Shaping a New Regional Order Beijing’s response to Hutchison’s Panama sale was not confined to official channels. Pro-Beijing media denounced the deal as disloyal and profit-driven, framing it as a matter of national honour. When the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office of the State Council, which is the Beijing central body responsible for overseeing Hong Kong and Macao affairs, amplified these narratives, they gained quasi-official status and exerted pressure on both Hutchison and other Hong Kong firms. This discourse resonated beyond China. The Panama Canal Authority warned that excessive concentration of terminal assets could undermine neutrality and competitiveness. This wording strikingly complies with Beijing’s “anti-hegemony” rhetoric. By shaping the terms of debate, Beijing positioned itself to argue for greater balance and competition in Panama’s port operations. Looking ahead, China advocates to leverage new concession tenders to advance its tactical objectives: strengthening the role of China Ocean Shipping Company, counterbalancing U.S. and European dominance and embedding Chinese capital in Latin America’s maritime infrastructure. More broadly, the case illustrates how Beijing integrates public opinion, regulatory narratives, and commercial strategy to shape a regional order more favourable to its interests. For policymakers, this implies that Panama demonstrates how Beijing transforms domestic media pressure into a tool of international influence. What begins as reputational discipline at home can translate into bargaining leverage abroad, particularly in contested regions where infrastructure and influence are intertwined. Points of Special Relevance: Beijing’s Strategic Signal Beijing’s intervention in the Panama Canal case should be read not as a single act but as a strategic signal. Its aims to prevent U.S. and European firms from consolidating control at a vital chokepoint and to avoid the appearance of “losing” strategic assets. At the same time, Beijing used this episode to remind Hong Kong conglomerates that in sensitive geopolitical contexts, commercial logic alone is no longer sufficient. The Panama case demonstrates how Beijing leverages commercial disputes as instruments of statecraft. The more plausible outcome is a conditional arrangement to encourage Panama to introduce mechanisms that limit Western influence in Latin America. China seeks structural adjustments that preserve its influence and reshape the regional order to its advantage. From Neutrality to National Loyalty As U.S. China tensions intensify, many multinational firms pursue de-risking strategies: not full decoupling as it is economically unviable, but carefully calibrated ambiguity that allows them to operate in both markets without explicit political commitments. This balancing act is becoming harder in Hong Kong. Since 1997, the influx of mainland state-linked enterprises has blurred the line between state and market. Benefiting from the “One Country, Two Systems” framework, these firms embedded political expectations into business norms. Ties to the National People’s Congress or the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference are increasingly relevant in Hong Kong. By 2019, Beijing moved further, promoting patriotism in the business sector such as the Greater Bay Area Business Support Scheme, which channels funding toward firms demonstrating “patriotic entrepreneurship” or contributions to “national rejuvenation”. The result is a growing convergence of economic and political expectations. Commercial autonomy is increasingly contingent on political alignment, eroding the distinction between business logic and ideological loyalty. For investors and firms, this raises strategic concerns: - Will political loyalty requirements constrain the free flow of capital? - Could companies risk state intervention or even nationalization if perceived as acting against China’s interests? These questions remain unresolved, but Hutchison’s Panama case shows how quickly a commercial decision can be redefined as a matter of national loyalty. The broader uncertainty surrounding Hong Kong’s business environment will shape the city’s role as a financial hub in the decade ahead. This is my view on things: An Outlook on Hong Kong Looking ahead, the space for Hong Kong conglomerates to maintain commercial neutrality is narrowing. The rise of a nationalist business paradigm means companies must increasingly balance political conformity with economic self-interest. Two scenarios are emerging: 1. “Hong Kong, then China”: firms retain some operational autonomy and global credibility by prioritizing commercial logic, while carefully managing political sensitivities. 2. “China, then Hong Kong”: political loyalty takes precedence, with business priorities subordinated to national strategic goals of the Chinese Communist Party. Which path prevails will determine Hong Kong’s role as a financial hub. The tension between economic liberalism and political loyalty is no longer abstract. It is becoming the defining fault line for Hong Kong’s business landscape in the decade ahead.

Diplomacy
Sharm El Sheikh Summit for Peace: Agreement to End the War in Gaza, 13 October 2025. Photo by Roman Ismayilov. President.az, CC BY 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Gaza Peace Plan: End of war, or A beginning of occupation?

by Muhammad Abdullah

On 29 September 2025, President Trump held a press conference along with his counterpart, Prime Minister of Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu, and issued 20 Points detailed peace plan for the war-torn Gaza, though he claims that the plan was backed by prominent Muslim states, including Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Qatar, Pakistan and some other’s. By and large these Muslim states also welcomed the Plan, most importantly Palestinian political body which is Palestinian Liberation Organization also called the plan an opportunity to end the war on Gaza. Some significant points of the peace plan. Gaza will be a deradicalized terror-free zone that does not pose a threat to its neighbors. Gaza will be redeveloped for the benefit of the people of Gaza, who have suffered more than enough. If both sides agree to this proposal, the war will immediately end. Israeli forces will withdraw to the agreed upon line to prepare for a hostage release. During this time, all military operations, including aerial and artillery bombardment, will be suspended, and battle lines will remain frozen until conditions are met for the complete staged withdrawal. Within 72 hours of Israel publicly accepting this agreement, all hostages, alive and deceased, will be returned. (Gjevori, 2025)Role of ArabsSince the start of Trump’s tenure  and the new American administration Arabs were making efforts to stop the long running Gaza War, they propose alternatives to Trump’s Gaza Rivera plan and so on. (Jazeera, 2025) Now, when eventually Gaza Peace Plan announced by Trump, they (Arabs ) not only endorsed the Plan but also Nations like Qatar, Egypt and Türkiye take part in negotiations with Hamas and Israel, along with envoy to Middle East Steve Witkoff, and finally brought some relief for Gazans like (ceasefire and immediate supplies of aid) which is very crucial for the starving people Gaza. (Irish, 2025)Proposed Governance ModelGaza would be governed by technocrats, apolitical Palestinian committee responsible for day-to-day public services and municipal functions in Palestine. The committee would be composed of qualified Palestinian and International experts. They will be overseen by a body called the Board of Peace. There would be a temporary International Stabilization Force (ISF). To oversee security in Gaza during transition. (Walsh, 2025)Parties response to the plan.Hamas, which is the military body of Gaza has also issued a response to Trump’s Plan, in which they accepted the demands like hostage release, and to hand over the administration of Gaza to independent Technocrats, but they clearly stated that they want to negotiate over some points through mediators.PLO which is Political body of Palestine, welcomed the ceasefire but they are opposed to hand over Gaza’s governance to foreign actors, as Nasser al- Qudwa, a prominent Palestinian and Nephew of Yasser Arafat, has warned against foreign governance of Gaza post-Hamas, (Newspaper, 2025) stressing that leadership must be rooted locally rather than imposed from abroad. The statement highlights the potential opposition and undermines the credibility of the plan.The Israeli Prime Minister called the plan as their victory and fulfillment of their objectives, as they want to decommission Hamas, they will achieve this once the plan is implemented. The tunnels which were in Gaza and which caused Israel unbearable damage, especially in early days of war. (Bronner l., 2025) They are also going to get rid of them by Hamas exclusion and their deradicalization and development of infrastructure by independent actors. The most favorable point for Israel is Trump's statement that “if Hamas does not accept the plan then you [Netanyahu] are allowed to finish the job in Gaza and destroy Hamas completely”. (Griner, 2025) Which I think is a very provocative statement and can cause more bloodshed of innocent civilians. which may end up in complete occupation of the Strip.  Since the day Trump’s plan for Gaza was announced, the Israeli military did not slow down their advancement in the strip, instead they continued with their actions against civilians which reflect their intentions clearly.But for the implementation of the so-called peace plan and to further discuss over its terms both parties take part in negotiations in Egypt. With the mediation of Qatar and Egypt, these negotiations continued for days and then concluded with the statement made by Donald Trump that Israel and Hamas have agreed to his peace plan for Gaza. The Israeli military says that a ceasefire in Palestinian territory took effect on Friday 10th. And that it has begun to withdraw from parts of the Strip as per plan. The first phase of Trump's plan is expected to see the release of all 20 living Israeli hostages in exchange for around 250 Palestinian prisoners and 1,700 detainees from Gaza. Increased amounts of aid will also enter the Strip. (BBC, 2025). On October 13th, Hamas released the 20 living hostages and Israel began to release the Palestinian prisoners. (BBC, 2025) The same day, in Sharm El Shaikh, Egypt, an international peace summit was held, attended by representatives from various nations, - including Canada, France, Germany, Indonesia, Italy, Jordan, Oman, Pakistan, Palestine, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, UAE, UK, among others – but notably excluding Hamas and Israel representatives. The summit focused on humanitarian access to Gaza and mechanisms to monitor the proposed ceasefire, aiming to end the two-year war. The outcome was the signing of a joint declaration by Egypt, US, Qatar and Türkiye. Despite these recent developments, the Plan gave the UN only a minimal role, limited to the supply of aid. Although the UN was created to maintain world peace and to resolve conflicts peacefully, when we see the plan, Trump did not assign any role to the peace keeping body, instead he appointed Tony Blair [former British PM, who invaded Iraq in 2003] as head of the Board of peace, which is an international Transitional body whose responsibility is to supervise the apolitical Palestinian committee (responsible for day to day running activities in Gaza). AnalysesThe future of the 20 Points Plan is quite uncertain because it neither has a security guarantee for Palestinian nor any durable provisions about the existence of Palestinian state. The plan calls for an ISF (International stabilization Force) which will be deployed in Gaza immediately for ensuring peace, but the fact is the world does not have a pool of experienced peacekeeping force for this purpose that can handle the situation.  Furthermore, the Israeli PM made it clear that there is no meaningful withdrawal of the IDF from Gaza anytime soon.Moreover, the Plan prohibits Israeli annexation of Gaza, but it does not address the issue of the West Bank. Annexation there is opposed by present and potential Abraham Accord States. But I think soft annexation there would be continued through expansion and establishment of settlement. (weller, 2025)ConclusionWhile the world is admiring Trump’s 20 Points Peace Plan, how can we think of peace anywhere, without an army, and most importantly without recognizing the place as a sovereign State with demarcated borders? Although the Plan has some appealing aspects like immediate ceasefire, entry of aid, development of infrastructure in Gaza and exchange of prisoners, it lacks in terms of security from future Israeli aggression, and it also has no provision about the Palestinian state with borders of before 1967 with East Jerusalem as its Capital. Furthermore, if the plan is implemented Palestinians will be governed by the people of other countries, who will govern them as per the policy devised by the committee, (whose members probably belong to West and other States) not according to the needs and opinion of Palestinians. Which may add more to their misery. So, for a short span of time the Plan may seem like the end of war, but in the long run if more reforms like the recognition of Palestinian statehood and its existence will not be made, then this is just a start of a new occupation. References BBC. (2025, october 9).  BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cvgqx7ygq41o.ampBBC. (2025, october 14). BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c740jx07vz0oBronner, L. (2025, september 30). Le Monde.  https://www.lemonde.fr/en/international/article/2025/09/30/netanyahu-accepts-trump-s-gaza-peace-plan-under-pressure-but-sets-conditions_6745930_4.html?utmGjevori, E. (2025, sep 29). al jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/amp/news/2025/9/29/heres-the-full-text-of-trumps-20-point-plan-to-end-israels-war-on-gazaGriner, A. (2025, oct 3). AL Jazeera. from https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/10/3/trump-issues-sunday-deadline-for-hamas-to-accept-gaza-peace-proposal?utm_sourceIrish, J. (2025, october 8). Reuters. from https://www.reuters.com/world/middle-east/europeans-arabs-meet-flesh-out-next-phase-trump-gaza-plan-2025-10-09/?utm_sourceJazeera, A. (2025, feb 21). Al Jazeera. Arab leaders hold a meeting and discuss alternatives to GazaNewspaper, T. T. (2025, october). the times.  https://www.thetimes.com/world/middle-east/article/nasser-al-qudwa-gaza-hamas-palestine-israel-news-vl7xmgct9?utm_sourceWeller, M. (2025, oct 2). Cathom house. https://www.chathamhouse.org/2025/10/can-trump-peace-plan-gaza-succeed?utm

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
canada between Israel and Palestine.  Israel canada Palestine

Israel/Palestine and Canada’s Empty Support for International law

by Alex Neve

Abstract Canada has long maintained that international law must be central to resolution of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. But has there been appropriate follow-through when international law has been violated? This policy brief examines Canada's positions and, importantly, actions, in the face of violations of international law by the Israeli government during its military offensive on Gaza following the 7 October 2023 attacks in southern Israel by Hamas and other armed Palestinian groups. The analysis makes it clear that Canada has rarely condemned those violations, let alone imposed sanctions or other consequences for them.Keywordshuman rights, Israel, Palestine, Gaza, Canada, Canadian foreign policy, international law, International Court of Justice, International Criminal Court, international humanitarian law Professed respect for international law “Israel has a right under international law to take the necessary measures, in accordance with human rights and international humanitarian law, to protect the security of its citizens from attacks by terrorist groups.” In many respects, this statement—taken from the section detailing “Support for Israel and its Security” in Global Affairs Canada's overview of “Canadian policy on key issues in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict”1—captures what is right in principle, but so terribly wrong in practice, when it comes to Canada's foreign policy regarding Israel and Palestine. As it should be, international law is lifted up and given a spotlight. Canada's position is grounded in an expectation that international human rights and international humanitarian law will be respected. But what the statement does not convey is that there is rarely an appropriate response by the Canadian government when it becomes clear that actions taken by Israel—particularly the Israel Defense Forces—to protect the security of its citizens consistently amount to grave, widespread, and systematic violations of both international human rights and international humanitarian law. International law and human rights also feature prominently in other key elements of Canada's policy regarding the conflict. Canada recognizes the “Palestinian right to self-determination.” The rights of Palestinian refugees are to be respected, “in accordance with international law.” Canada notes that the “Fourth Geneva Convention applies in the occupied territories” and consequently that Israeli settlements are in violation of that convention, as is the Israeli government's construction of the barrier inside the West Bank and East Jerusalem. Failure to uphold international law This is all good, in principle. But how does Canada react to the fact that the Palestinian right to self-determination and the rights of Palestinian refugees have undeniably been abrogated for decades? And what is Canada's response to the defiant expansion of the Geneva Convention–violating settlements throughout the West Bank and East Jerusalem? Rather than mount a robust defence (or any defence, for that matter) of the international legal principles at stake, Canada's policy more or less goes quiet at this point. There is no condemnation of the breaches of international law, and consideration of the possible implications under Canadian law is reluctant at best, with a bare minimum of legal, trade, or other consequences for these blatantly unlawful actions. The disconnect between rhetorical flourishes of support for the professed importance of international law but the failure and unwillingness to champion it when it is breached has, unfortunately but perhaps not surprisingly, dominated the key aspects of Canada's response to Israel's unrelenting assault on Gaza following the brutal attacks launched by Hamas and other armed Palestinian groups in southern Israel on 7 October 2023. It was evident from the outset. October 7th, Gaza, and Canada's empty resort to international law Reacting to the horror of the October 7th attack, Canada, like the United States, Australia, New Zealand, and many of its allies in Western Europe, almost immediately referenced the fact that Israel had a right to defend itself. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau's first statement, on October 8th, noted that Canada “reaffirm[ed] its support for Israel's right to defend itself.”2 But what, as a matter of international law, did that actually mean? The question as to whether Israel as a nation has the right to defend itself from attack is dictated by Article 51 of the United Nations (UN) Charter, International Court of Justice (ICJ) jurisprudence, and other public international law sources. As Marko Milanovic, professor of public international law at the University of Reading School of Law notes, “[M]any who think there is a single, clearly correct answer to the question whether Israel has a right to self-defence do so simply because the answer fits their prior narratives and worldviews.” Milanovic lays out the complexity and uncertainty in considerable detail and concludes that “the jus ad bellum is indeterminate on the question of whether non-state actors, whose conduct is not attributable to a state, can commit armed attacks in the sense of Article 51 of the Charter.”3 With the threshold question of whether an attack carried out by an armed group such as Hamas constitutes an armed attack of the nature that would trigger application of Article 51 being at best indeterminate, so too is the question as to whether a right of self-defence arises. As such, the Canadian government's simple assertion, without any further expansion or discussion, is clearly not without debate. Offering no qualification or explanation alongside that assertion, on a matter that is unsettled and complex within international law, is problematic. Article 51 states: “Nothing in the present Charter shall impair the inherent right of individual or collective self-defence if an armed attack occurs against a Member of the United Nations[.]”4 What emerges from a review of applicable international law, however, are differing views as to whether, and to what extent, a nation's right under Article 51 to resort to armed force in response to an attack—in other words, to go to war as a means of self-defence—arises when the attack is carried out by another state, not when the perpetrator is a non-state actor or armed group such as Hamas or the other Palestinian armed groups responsible for the October 7th attacks, operating within territory that is controlled by the state concerned. That is reflected in the conclusion of the ICJ in its 2004 Advisory Opinion, Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory: Article 51 of the Charter thus recognizes the existence of an inherent right of self-defence in the case of armed attack by one State against another State. However, Israel does not claim that the attacks against it are imputable to a foreign State. The Court also notes that Israel exercises control in the Occupied Palestinian Territory and that, as Israel itself states, the threat which it regards as justifying the construction of the wall originates within, and not outside, that territory. The situation is thus different from that contemplated by Security Council resolutions 1368 (2001) and 1373 (200 l), and therefore Israel could not in any event invoke those resolutions in support of its claim to be exercising a right of self-defence. Consequently, the Court concludes that Article 51 of the Charter has no relevance in this case.5 Having determined that Article 51 was not relevant, the Court also went on to consider whether Israel could more broadly rely on the customary international legal principle of a “state of necessity” to justify construction of the wall. The Court agreed that Israel had “the right, and indeed the duty, to respond in order to protect the life of its citizens” but noted that “measures taken are bound nonetheless to remain in conformity with applicable international law.”6 This is essentially where Canada's stated policy lands as well. For example, the now former prime minister's October 8th statement, referenced above, goes on to qualify that Israel's right to defend itself must be exercised “in accordance with international law.” This, in turn, echoes the numerous references to the need to respect international law noted above, which are scattered throughout Canada's overall Israel/Palestine policy—established long before October 7th. The phrase “in accordance with international law” has been repeated consistently in written statements, social media posts, and press comments by the prime minister,7 the minister of foreign affairs,8 and other ministers9 at various stages of the current conflict. But we do not find any further explanation as to what that entails-for instance, that regardless of whether or not a right of self-defence to an armed attack exists in these circumstances and legally justifies Israel launching a war against Hamas, fundamental principles from international humanitarian law, such as the requirements of necessity and proportionality, nevertheless always apply. That failure to have clearly acknowledged the applicable international humanitarian law framework is particularly problematic, because the evidence that those legal obligations have been systematically and gravely violated, to the extent of undeniably constituting war crimes, has become incontrovertible. Yet as Israel's full-scale assault on Gaza was launched and expanded—and as reports from the UN,10 humanitarian agencies,11 international12 and national13 human rights organizations, local human rights monitors,14and journalists15 made it clear that massive human rights violations and breaches of international humanitarian law were occurring—nothing more was said. Canada did not move from stating that international law must be respected to stating the obvious—that it was well-established that this was not happening. The Canadian government refused to criticize Israel for breaches of international law, let alone press for accountability and consequences for the violations. Canada and the ICJ's Genocide Convention case Nowhere has this been more apparent, or more consequential, than in Canada's response to announcements and rulings from the two international courts that have a key role in upholding international law in situations such as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict: the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court (ICC). Canada is often regarded as one of the world's most reliable champions of international courts. As such, its failure to show the expected support at this time has been widely noted with concern. The ICJ is actively engaged with the conflict through two separate cases. On 29 December 2023 South Africa launched proceedings16 against Israel, alleging violations of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Genocide Convention) with respect to Israel's actions in Gaza. Given the gravity and urgency of the situation on the ground in Gaza, South Africa has applied to the Court on four separate occasions,17 seeking orders for interim provisional measures while the case proceeds. The Court consequently indicated a range of provisional measures in various orders18 issued between January and May 2024. The Court's provisional measures have been grounded in a finding that “at least some of the rights claimed by South Africa under the Genocide Convention and for which it was seeking protection were plausible, namely the right of the Palestinians in Gaza to be protected from acts of genocide and related prohibited acts mentioned in Article III, and the right of South Africa to seek Israel's compliance with the latter's obligations under that Convention.”19 The legal semantics of that ruling are nuanced, but nonetheless significant and with very real consequences. The Court has not reached any conclusion as to whether genocide has occurred in Gaza—or even whether it has possibly or potentially occurred—nor would it be expected to at this early stage of the case. But it is a clear statement that the Court considers the rights protected under the Genocide Convention to be plausibly pertinent to Israel's military operations in Gaza. Drawing on the Court's conclusion, many commentators,20 including legal experts and human rights organizations, now regularly reference plausible, potential, or prima facie genocide in Gaza. The Court's final ruling on whether Israel has in fact breached its obligations under the Genocide Convention is still some way off—likely late 2025, at the earliest. Among the provisional measures indicated by the Court to date are orders that Israel prevent the commission of all acts of genocide, prevent and punish incitement to genocide, enact immediate and effective measures to enable the provision of urgently needed basic services and humanitarian assistance in Gaza, and immediately halt its military offensive and any other action in Rafah that may inflict on Palestinians in Gaza conditions of life that could bring about their physical destruction as a group, in whole or in part. Canada's response to the ICJ rulings has been, at worst, tepid and incoherent, and at best, only supportive when consistent with Canada's already established positions. Following the first provisional measures indicated by the Court in January, Canada's foreign affairs minister, Mélanie Joly, issued a statement expressing support for the ICJ's “critical role … in upholding the international rules-based order,” but stressed that this support did “not mean that [Canada accepted] the premise of the case brought by South Africa.”21 There was not a word from the Canadian government calling on Israel to comply with the Court's order, which is what would have been expected from a self-declared champion of the Court. The response four months later to the Court's provisional measures concerning Rafah was stronger. Prime Minister Trudeau reiterated what was by then Canada's established position, calling for “no more military operations in Rafah by Israel, and certainly no escalation of military operations in Rafah.” The prime minister also underscored that the “ICJ's proposals are binding and we expect everyone to follow them as a matter of international law.”22 However, as is well established, Israel did not comply with the Court's ruling with respect to Rafah, and Canada has issued no express condemnation, let alone imposed any consequences, for that disregard of international law. Canada and the ICJ's advisory opinion The second ICJ case dealing with Israel-Palestine is an advisory opinion requested in January 2023,23 following a December 2022 UN General Assembly resolution seeking the Court's views on the legal consequences of Israeli practices in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (OPT), including East Jerusalem. The Court's Advisory Opinion24 was issued on 19 July 2024. The Court was unequivocal in concluding that “the sustained abuse by Israel of its position as an occupying Power, through annexation and an assertion of permanent control over the Occupied Palestinian Territory and continued frustration of the right of the Palestinian people to self-determination, violates fundamental principles of international law and renders Israel's presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory unlawful.”25 Notably, the ICJ specifically addresses the question of the legal consequences of Israel's unlawful presence in the OPT for third states, which would obviously include Canada, and concludes that “all States are under an obligation not to recognize as legal the situation arising from the unlawful presence of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. They are also under an obligation not to render aid or assistance in maintaining the situation created by Israel's illegal presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory.”26 This leads to a consideration of Canada's stance before and after the ICJ Advisory Opinion. Canada filed a written submission27 seven months in advance of the hearing, arguing that the Court should use its discretion and decline the General Assembly's request to issue an advisory opinion. Canada also initially requested an opportunity to make oral submissions during the hearing, and was one of fifty-four states and multilateral organizations slated to do so.28 However, as the hearing got underway on 19 February 2024, Canada withdrew its request to make an oral presentation29 and chose to rely solely on the earlier written submission—namely, that the Court should decline to issue an advisory opinion. The explanation offered for withdrawing from the oral hearing was that the government's position had not changed from the time of making its written submission. Apparently, that position was unchanged even though external circumstances had changed dramatically. After all, Canada's position had been formulated seven months earlier—before the October 7th attack in Israel, the subsequent Israeli offensive in Gaza, and the 26 January 2024 ICJ ruling on provisional measures in the case brought by South Africa under the Genocide Convention. Canada's response after the Advisory Opinion was issued was certainly lacking. The immediate reaction was limited to a statement that the government had “taken note” of the Advisory Opinion, stressing that it was “nonbinding.”30 Two weeks later, a passing reference to the Advisory Opinion appeared in a joint statement from Prime Minister Trudeau and the prime ministers of Australia and New Zealand reiterating their call for a ceasefire and expressing concern about the mounting hostilities between Israel and Hezbollah. The statement generically called on Israel “to respond substantively to the ICJ's advisory opinion,”31 but offered no examples as to what that substantive response should entail. Canada's response to the advisory opinion A resolution came before the UN General Assembly on 18 September 2024, following up on the ICJ Advisory Opinion, which had, after all. initially been sought by the General Assembly. Among other provisions, the resolution “[w]elcomes the Advisory opinion … [and] [d]emands that Israel comply without delay with all its legal obligations under international law, including as stipulated by the International Court of Justice.”32 The resolution passed with 124 votes in favour, 14 against, and 43 abstentions.33 Canada was one of the countries to abstain. Many of Canada's close allies, such as France, Ireland, Norway, and New Zealand, supported the resolution, while many others, including Australia, Germany, the Netherlands, and the United Kingdom, joined Canada in abstaining. Israel and the United States were among the fourteen states that opposed the resolution. In a statement, the government explained its decision to abstain rather than support the resolution, citing that it did not reference the “need to end terrorism, for which Israel has serious and legitimate security concerns” and that it contained “language that aligns with Boycott Divestment Sanctions, which Canada firmly opposes.”34 To a certain extent, the decision to abstain rather than oppose (which has tended to be Canada's voting record with UN General Assembly resolutions related to Israel/Palestine)35 the resolution may be seen as a small step forward. It was, however, sharply criticized by Canadian groups supportive of Israel.36 There has yet to be any acknowledgement of the steps that Canada is obliged to take—and therefore that it intends to take—in response to the ICJ's identification of a responsibility incumbent on third states not to “render aid or assistance in maintaining the situation created by Israel's illegal presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory.” What implications might there be, for instance, for Canadian trade policy, the charitable status of Canadian organizations, the involvement of Canadians in real estate deals in the OPT, or the possibility that the actions of some Canadians with respect to settlements in the OPT might even be tantamount to criminal liability for war crimes? Canada designated Hamas a “terrorist entity” under Canadian law in 2002.37 Numerous other Palestinian armed groups, such as Palestinian Islamic Jihad and the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, have similarly been designated. Since the October 7th attack, there have been four rounds of sanctions, targeting thirty-nine individuals, including Hamas leadership.38 Canada has been slower to take action against individuals and groups responsible for violence and human rights abuses against Palestinians. After considerable pressure, in May, June, and September of 2024, the government imposed three rounds of sanctions against a total of fifteen individuals and seven groups deemed responsible for “extremist settler violence against Palestinian civilians in the West Bank.”39 These are the first ever sanctions of that nature. However, no sanctions have been imposed against Israeli political leaders who have been widely condemned for supporting, facilitating, and inciting that extremist settler violence—notably Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and Minister of Security Itamar Ben-Gvir.40 There have been repeated calls for Canada to impose a comprehensive arms embargo on any weapons, including parts and components, transferred either directly to Israel or indirectly through third countries, most notably the United States. While the government announced in January that no new export permits would be authorized, and later cancelled thirty existing permits, the ban is still far from comprehensive.41 For instance, Canadian-made parts are sold to companies in the United States, where they are used in the assembly of F-35 fighter jets destined for Israel. The Canadian Commercial Corporation, a Canadian Crown Corporation acting on behalf of General Dynamics Ordnance and Tactical Systems—Canada, also remains under contract to provide the US Department of Defense with artillery propellants that will be supplied to Israel.42 Reports indicate that C$95 million worth of military goods could be exported from Canada to Israel through to the end of 2025.43 It is also worth noting that the Canada–Israel Free Trade Agreement, which came into force in 1997 and was updated in 2019, extends its coverage to the “territory where [Israel's] customs laws are applied.”44 This means the trade deal includes Israeli settlements in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, which Canada considers to be unlawful. There was a concerted push by legal experts and human rights groups to exclude those unlawful settlements45—which, after all, constitute war crimes under international law—from the gamut of the trade deal when it was updated, but the government refused to make that change. Canada and the International Criminal Court Meanwhile, an announcement from Karim Khan, the chief prosecutor of the ICC, on 29 May 2024, raised further concerns about Canadian double standards regarding international law and institutions when it comes to Israel. Khan indicated that, as part of an ongoing investigation launched over three years ago, he was seeking arrest warrants for five key Israeli and Hamas leaders, including Israel's prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, and its then minister of defence, Yoav Gallant, on war crimes and crimes against humanity charges in connection with the October 7th attacks in southern Israel and the aftermath in Gaza.46 Canada, famously, was an ardent champion of the establishment of the ICC in 1998.47 Canada's foreign affairs minister at the time, Lloyd Axworthy, played a key leadership role, and a Canadian, Philippe Kirsch, served as the first ICC president. However, rather than express support and offer a commitment to cooperate with Khan and the Court as the case proceeds, Prime Minister Trudeau, Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland, and Foreign Affairs Minister Joly all pilloried the prosecutor for having sought the arrest warrants against Netanyahu and Gallant, decrying what they called an unhelpful “equivalence” between Hamas and the Israeli government.48 The government's position was criticized in an open letter to the prime minister from over 375 Canadian law professors, lawyers, legal scholars, academics, civil society, faith and labour movement leaders, and former diplomats and parliamentarians, including Axworthy and two former ambassadors to the United Nations, Allan Rock and Rosemary McCarney. The letter notes: The principles of equal treatment and access to justice in the field of international criminal justice do not, by any measure, amount to an equivalence of the nature you have decried. No country, no armed group, no corporation and no individual can be allowed to stand above or apart from the law. Nothing undermines justice more—at a national or international level—than double standards and exceptionalism. This commitment must be at the core of Canada's ICC position and foreign policy.49 Canada was among ninety-three states to subsequently endorse a joint statement on 14 June 2024 reaffirming that ICC officials and staff must be able to carry out their work “without intimidation.”50 While the statement does not explicitly mention the Israel/Palestine case, it is widely understood to be a response to threats that had been levelled at the Court by supporters of Israel, including the US House of Representatives.51 Beyond that, Canada's position regarding the application for the arrest warrants remained the same. On 21 November 2024, the ICC issued arrest warrants for Netanyahu, Gallant, and Mohammed Diab Ibrahim Al-Masri, more commonly known as Deif, commander-in-chief of the military wing of the Islamic Resistance Movement Hamas (known as the Al-Qassam Brigades). Warrants had initially been sought as well for Yahya Sinwar, then head of Hamas in the Gaza Strip, and Ismail Haniyeh, former head of the Hamas political bureau, but those applications were later withdrawn following evidence confirming their deaths.52 The arrest warrant issued for Deif was cancelled on 26 February 2025 after his death was also confirmed.53 In reaction to the news of the warrants against Netanyahu and Gallant being issued, Prime Minister Trudeau stated that Canada “will abide by all the regulations and rulings of the international courts.”54 Minister Joly, while declining to answer the “speculative” question about executing the Netanyahu and Gallant warrants if circumstances arose, confirmed that Canada must “abide by its treaty obligations.”55 While there is no explicit commitment to execute the warrants, the generic affirmations that Canada will abide by all rulings of the international courts, and by its treaty obligations, point in that direction. It is not as clear a statement of support as was made by many other governments, but at least it moves away from criticizing the prosecutor. Disregarding international law in Israel/Palestine weakens it everywhere And in the current volatile global context, with the United States, Russia, and China now regularly and flagrantly violating international law and disregarding—often contemptuously—international courts and human rights bodies, the need to vigorously and scrupulously reinforce international law has become imperative. The bottom line is that it is not enough, and is, in fact, dangerous hypocrisy, for the Canadian government to laud the important role of international law and international legal institutions in resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict if those legal standards and bodies are ignored, abandoned, or, at best, given lukewarm support by Canada when breached or disrespected. It is appropriate and necessary for international law to be at the heart of Canada's foreign policy with respect to the conflict. But that requires demonstrating, with decisive words and concrete measures, both internationally and nationally, that Canada means what it says in standing up for the rules-based international order that it has helped to shape since the 1940s. To do otherwise weakens the international legal framework at a time when it needs to be stronger than ever. Those consequences reverberate far beyond Israel and Palestine alone. Declaration of conflicting interestsThe author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.Notes1. Global Affairs Canada (GAC), “Canadian policy on key issues in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict,” https://www.international.gc.ca/world-monde/international_relations-relations_internationales/mena-moan/israeli-palestinian_policy-politique_israelo-palestinien.aspx?lang=eng (accessed 10 April 2025).2. Prime Minister of Canada, “Statement by the Prime Minister on attacks against Israel,” 8 October 2023, https://www.pm.gc.ca/en/news/statements/2023/10/08/statement-prime-minister-trudeau-attacks-against-israel (accessed 10 April 2025).3. Marko Milanovic, “Does Israel have the right to defend itself?,” EJIL: Talk!, 14 November 2023, https://www.ejiltalk.org/does-israel-have-the-right-to-defend-itself/ (accessed 22 April 2025).4. United Nations (UN), Charter of the United Nations, 26 June 1945, Article 51, https://www.un.org/en/about-us/un-charter/full-text (accessed 10 April 2025).5. International Court of Justice (ICJ), Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, paragraph 139, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/131/131-20040709-ADV-01-00-EN.pdf (accessed 20 April 2025).6. Ibid., paragraph 141.7. Prime Minister of Canada, “Prime Minister Justin Trudeau speaks with Israel War Cabinet member Minister Benny Gantz, 16 November 2023,” https://www.pm.gc.ca/en/news/readouts/2023/11/16/prime-minister-justin-trudeau-speaks-israel-war-cabinet-member-minister (accessed 10 April 2025).8. GAC, “Statement by Minister Joly on the International Court of Justice's decision on South Africa's request for provisional measures in its case against Israel,” 26 January 2024, https://www.canada.ca/en/global-affairs/news/2024/01/statement-by-minister-joly-on-the-international-court-of-justices-decision-on-south-africas-request-for-provisional-measures-in-its-case-against-is.html (accessed 10 April 2025).9. Bill Blair (@BillBlair), “Canada continues to support Israel's right to defend itself in accordance with international law, following the brutal terror attack by Hamas on October 7. Hamas must immediately release those being held hostage,” X, 4 November 2023, https://x.com/BillBlair/status/1720983221398069565 (accessed 10 April 2025).10. UN Human Rights Council, The Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and Israel, https://www.ohchr.org/en/hr-bodies/hrc/co-israel/index (accessed 10 April 2025).11. International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), “ICRC president tells Gaza forum: civilians must be protected, hostages must be released unharmed,” 9 November 2023, https://www.icrc.org/en/document/icrc-president-tells-paris-conference-gaza-immediate-imperative-is-to-save-lives (accessed 10 April 2025).12. Amnesty International, “Damning evidence of war crimes as Israeli attacks wipe out entire families in Gaza,” 20 October 2023, https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2023/10/damning-evidence-of-war-crimes-as-israeli-attacks-wipe-out-entire-families-in-gaza/ (accessed 10 April 2025).13. B’Tselem—The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories, “Manufacturing famine: Israel is committing the war crime of starvation in the Gaza Strip,” April 2024, https://www.btselem.org/publications/202404_manufacturing_famine (accessed 10 April 2025).14. Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor, “About 10 percent of the Gaza Strip's population killed, injured, or missing due to the Israeli genocide,” 25 July 2024, https://euromedmonitor.org/en/article/6420/About-10-percent-of-the-Gaza-Strip%E2%80%99s-population-killed,-injured,-or-missing-due-to-the-Israeli-genocide (accessed 10 April 2025).15. Bethan McKernan et al., “Palestinian prisoners describe systemic abuse in Israel's jails,” The Guardian, 5 August 2024, https://www.theguardian.com/world/article/2024/aug/05/palestinian-prisoners-describe-widespread-abuse-in-israels-jails (accessed 10 April 2025).16. ICJ, Application Instituting Proceedings Containing a Request for the Indication of Provisional Measures, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel), 29 December 2023, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20231228-app-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).17. ICJ, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel) – Provisional Measures, https://www.icj-cij.org/case/192/provisional-measures (accessed 10 April 2025).18. ICJ, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel) – Orders, https://www.icj-cij.org/case/192/orders (accessed 10 April 2025).19. ICJ, Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide in the Gaza Strip (South Africa v. Israel) – Order, 24 May 2024, paragraph 32, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/192/192-20240524-ord-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).20. Alexandre Skander Galand and Wim Muller, “The ICJ's findings on plausible genocide in Gaza and its implications for the International Criminal Court, Opinio Juris,” 5 April 2024, https://opiniojuris.org/2024/04/05/the-icjs-findings-on-plausible-genocide-in-gaza-and-its-implications-for-the-international-criminal-court/ (accessed 10 April 2025).21. GAC, “Statement by Minister Joly,” 26 January 2024.22. Darren Major, “Trudeau says Israel needs to follow ICJ ruling and halt operations in Rafah,” CBC News, 24 May 2024, https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/trudeau-icj-decision-rafah-1.7214231 (accessed 10 April 2025).23. ICJ, Request for Advisory Opinion pursuant to General Assembly Resolution 77/247 of 30 December 2022: Legal Consequences Arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, 17 January 2023, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20230117-REQ-01-00-EN.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).24. ICJ, Advisory Opinion, Legal Consequences Arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, 19 July 2024, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20240719-adv-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).25. Ibid., paragraph 261.26. Ibid., paragraph 279.27. ICJ, Request by the United Nations General Assembly for an Advisory Opinion on the Question of the “Legal Consequences Arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem,” Written Statement of the Government of Canada, 14 July 2023, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20230724-wri-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).28. ICJ, Legal Consequences arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem (Request for Advisory Opinion), Public hearings to be held from Monday 19 to Monday 26 February 2024, Press Release, 9 February 2024, https://www.icj-cij.org/sites/default/files/case-related/186/186-20240209-pre-01-00-en.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).29. Justice for All Canada, “Canada's absence from ICJ hearings is a blow to Palestinian justice,” 20 February 2024, https://www.justiceforallcanada.org/icj-canada-withdrawal-feb20-2024.html (accessed 10 April 2025).30. The Canadian Press, “Ottawa says it has ‘taken note’ of UN court call for end to Israeli settlements,” The Globe and Mail, 19 July 2024, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/canada/article-ottawa-says-it-has-taken-note-of-un-court-call-for-end-to-israeli/ (accessed 10 April 2025).31. Prime Minister of Canada, “Joint statement by the prime ministers of Australia, Canada and New Zealand,” 26 July 2024, https://www.pm.gc.ca/en/news/statements/2024/07/26/joint-statement-prime-ministers-australia-canada-and-new (accessed 10 April 2025).32. UN General Assembly, Resolution ES-10/24: Advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice on the legal consequences arising from Israel's policies and practices in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and from the illegality of Israel's continued presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, UN Document A/RES/ES-10/24, 9 September 2024, paragraphs 1 and 3, https://documents.un.org/doc/undoc/gen/n24/272/75/pdf/n2427275.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).33. UN, “UN General Assembly demands Israel end ‘unlawful presence’ in Occupied Palestinian Territory,” 18 September 2024, https://news.un.org/en/story/2024/09/1154496 (accessed 10 April 2025).34. GAC, “Canada abstains from United Nations General Assembly resolution on the Advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice on the legal consequences arising from Israel's policies and practices in the Occupied Palestinian Territory,” 18 September 2024, https://www.canada.ca/en/global-affairs/news/2024/09/canada-abstains-from-united-nations-general-assembly-resolution-on-the-advisory-opinion-of-the-international-court-of-justice-on-the-legal-conseque.html (accessed 10 April 2025).35. Jeremy Wildeman, “Assessing Canada's foreign policy approach to the Palestinians and Israeli-Palestinian peacebuilding, 1979–2019,” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal 27 no. 1 (2021): 62–80.36. Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, “Canadian government breaks UN promise,” 18 September 2024, https://www.cija.ca/canadian_government_breaks_un_promise (accessed 10 April 2025).37. Public Safety Canada, “Currently listed entities,” https://www.publicsafety.gc.ca/cnt/ntnl-scrt/cntr-trrrsm/lstd-ntts/crrnt-lstd-ntts-en.aspx#25 (accessed 10 April 2025).38. GAC, “Canadian sanctions related to terrorist entities,” https://www.international.gc.ca/world-monde/international_relations-relations_internationales/sanctions/terrorists-terroristes.aspx?lang=eng (accessed 10 April 2025).39. GAC, “Canada imposes third round of sanctions on perpetrators of extremist settler violence against Palestinian civilians in West Bank,” 18 September 2024, https://www.canada.ca/en/global-affairs/news/2024/09/canada-imposes-third-round-of-sanctions-on-perpetrators-of-extremist-settler-violence-against-palestinian-civilians-in-west-bank.html (accessed 10 April 2025).40. Canadians for Justice and Peace in the Middle East, “Canada's sanctions on illegal settlers in the OPT,” August 2024, https://www.cjpme.org/fs_248 (accessed 10 April 2025).41. Steven Chase, “Mélanie Joly says Canada will block U.S.-bound ammunition sale destined for Israel,” The Globe and Mail, 10 September 2024, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/canada/article-canada-suspends-arm-sales-israel-through-united-states/ (accessed 10 April 2025).42. Kelsey Gallagher, “Canada under contract to supply the IDF with artillery propellant,” Project Ploughshares, 26 March 2025, https://www.ploughshares.ca/publications/canada-under-contract-to-supply-the-idf-with-artillery-propellant (accessed 22 April 2025).43. Emma Paling, “$95 million in new Canadian military goods could flow To Israel By 2025,” The Maple, 1 August 2024, https://www.readthemaple.com/95-million-in-new-canadian-military-goods-could-flow-to-israel-by-2025/ (accessed 10 April 2025).44. GAC, Canada-Israel Free Trade Agreement, 13 September 2019, article 1.7, https://www.international.gc.ca/trade-commerce/trade-agreements-accords-commerciaux/agr-acc/israel/fta-ale/text-texte/toc-tdm.aspx?lang=eng (accessed 10 April 2025).45. Canadians for Justice and Peace in the Middle East, “Annexing Palestine through trade: The Canada-Israel Free Trade Agreement and the Occupied Palestinian Territories,” September 2023, https://assets.nationbuilder.com/cjpme/pages/7341/attachments/original/1695662785/EN_-_Annexing_Palestine_Through_Trade_-_2023-010_-_FINAL.pdf?1695662785 (accessed 10 April 2025).46. International Criminal Court (ICC), “Statement of ICC prosecutor Karim A.A. Khan KC: Applications for arrest warrants in the situation in the State of Palestine,” 20 May 2024, https://www.icc-cpi.int/news/statement-icc-prosecutor-karim-aa-khan-kc-applications-arrest-warrants-situation-state (accessed 10 April 2025).47. Valerie Oosterveld, Canada and the Development of International Criminal Law: What Role for the Future?, Centre for International Governance Innovation (CIGI), Paper no. 16, March 2018, https://www.cigionline.org/static/documents/documents/Reflections%20Series%20Paper%20no.16web.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).48. Marie Woolf, “Ottawa weighs in on ICC's warrant requests for Israeli, Hamas leaders,” The Globe and Mail, 21 May 2024, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/politics/article-ottawa-says-canada-respects-independence-of-icc-but-rejects-comparing/ (accessed 10 April 2025).49. Open Letter, “A call for Canadian support for the ICC's work with respect to Palestine/Israel,” 29 May 2024, https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5fc01c8f405d5340f3254abf/t/6657cdbfeebac657b722e956/1717030335790/Open+Letter+to+PM+Trudeau%2C+29.05.24+EN.pdf (accessed 10 April 2025).50. GAC, “Joint Statement in support of the International Criminal Court,” 14 June 2024, https://www.canada.ca/en/global-affairs/news/2024/06/joint-statement-in-support-of-the-international-criminal-court.html (accessed 10 April 2025).51. Harry Davies, “ICC must be allowed to carry out work ‘without intimidation,’ say 93 member states,” The Guardian, 15 June 2024, https://www.theguardian.com/law/article/2024/jun/15/icc-must-be-allowed-to-carry-out-work-without-intimidation-say-93-member-states (accessed 10 April 2025); Caitlin Yilek, “House votes to sanction International Criminal Court over potential warrants for Israeli officials,” CBS News, 4 June 2024, https://www.cbsnews.com/colorado/news/house-vote-international-criminal-court-sanctions-netanyahu/?intcid=CNM-00-10abd1h (accessed 10 April 2025).52. ICC, “Statement of ICC prosecutor Karim A.A. Khan KC on the issuance of arrest warrants in the situation in the State of Palestine,” 21 November 2024, https://www.icc-cpi.int/news/statement-icc-prosecutor-karim-aa-khan-kc-issuance-arrest-warrants-situation-state-palestine (accessed 10 April 2025).53. ICC, Decision terminating proceedings against Mr Mohammed Diab Ibrahim Al Masri (Deif), 25 February 2025, https://www.icc-cpi.int/court-record/icc-01/18-417 (accessed 10 April 2025).54. Robert Fife, “Trudeau says Canada would abide by ICC arrest warrants for Netanyahu, former defence minister,” The Globe and Mail, 21 November 2024, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/politics/article-trudeau-says-canada-would-abide-by-icc-arrest-warrants-for-netanyahu/ (accessed 10 April 2025).55. CBC News, “Canada needs to follow ICC obligations, Joly says,” 21 November 2024, https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/video/9.6571268 (accessed 10 April 2025).

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

Diplomacy
Trump, Putin Alaska Arrival (9260680)

Why Peace in Ukraine Remains Elusive

by Nicholas Morieson , Ihsan Yilmaz

Donald Trump declared his Alaska summit with Vladimir Putin a success, despite contrasting evidence suggesting otherwise. On Truth Social, he said a peace agreement over Ukraine, not a mere ceasefire, was the right path, claims he echoed during follow-up talks in Washington with Volodymyr Zelensky and European leaders. “Potentially, millions of people’s lives will be saved,” Trump said. That optimism looks misplaced. For Putin, Ukraine is not merely a bargaining chip but a territory he views as part of a Russian “civilization-state.” When he meets with Western leaders, he is not negotiating over land; he frames the war as a defense of Russian civilization and its values. As a result, Putin cannot easily “make a deal” involving land swaps to end the conflict.  Russia’s civilisational project  In addition to civilisational rhetoric, other factors contribute to Putin’s intransigence. Strategic concerns about NATO, fears for regime security, and the material importance of Crimea and the Black Sea all shape Moscow’s stance. Yet the language of civilisation turns these into matters of identity and survival. It fuses practical interests with existential claims, making retreat even harder. Even if compromises were possible on security or economics, the civilisational frame casts them as betrayals of Russia’s destiny.  Some American policymakers have tended to read Russia as a state with interests that can be traded. However, Putin accounts for Russia not simply as a nation-state, but as a civilization rooted in Orthodoxy, empire, and the memory of Soviet power. Viewed through this prism, Ukraine is not a foreign neighbour, but an inseparable part of Russian history and identity, which must be defended against Western encroachment.  In his 2021 essay On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians, Putin claimed that Russians and Ukrainians are “one people,” and that Ukraine is “an inalienable part of our own history, culture, and spiritual space.” Whatever his private convictions, the function of this language is clear. It justifies annexation and occupation, and it raises the political cost of retreat by treating territorial issues as matters of civilisational survival.   Putin himself insists that “the West” does not understand that “the Ukraine crisis is not a territorial conflict … and not an attempt to establish regional geopolitical balance.” Instead, he says, it is rooted in “the principles underlying the new international order” he is building. Peace, in this new order, is possible only “when everyone feels safe and secure, understands that their opinions are respected” and when “no one can unilaterally force …others to live or behave as a hegemon pleases even when it contradicts the sovereignty …traditions, or customs of peoples and countries.”    This framing lets the Kremlin portray the West as the aggressor imposing alien norms on unwilling Ukrainians. Russia, by contrast, is said to be fighting for itself on behalf of all nations who wish to see western hegemony end and the birth of a new multipolar world. Moreover, it portrays Ukraine’s status as a civilisational question tied to identity and resistance to Western liberal norms. As a result, only a settlement that Putin present domestically as recognition of Russia’s civilisational standing is acceptable, which complicates compromise beyond what standard diplomatic formulas suggest.  Challenges to Trump’s pursuit of peace  Trump has made no secret of his desire to be remembered as a peacemaker. However, he also admires strong leaders and has shown sympathy for post-liberal arguments that liberal democracy is exhausted. These affinities bring him closer, at least rhetorically, to elements of Putin’s stance.  Admiration and aspiration alone are insufficient in bridging the gap between Putin and Trump’s positions on Ukraine’s independence. Putin frames the conflict as existential, defending Russian civilisation against Western encroachment. This  makes compromise especially difficult. If the war is understood in these terms, how can Moscow return occupied territories without undermining its own civilisational claim? How can it accept a Ukraine that leans towards the European Union, or tolerate an American presence on its soil?  Trump may want peace, but Putin has tied his legitimacy to a narrative that resists it. Unless that framing is abandoned, or radically reinterpreted, any settlement will remain elusive.  A wider trend  “Russia’s approach is part of a wider pattern in which civilisational claims have become central to how leaders justify power and resist compromise. Xi Jinping frames China as a five-thousand-year-old civilisation whose territory includes Taiwan and the South China Sea. He presents the Communist Party as the guardian of a civilisational tradition stretching back to Confucius, giving contemporary disputes an aura of timeless legitimacy. Narendra Modi portrays India as an ancient Hindu civilisation restoring its rightful place after centuries of foreign domination. Each case is distinct, but the message is similar: our civilisation is exceptional, our sovereignty absolute, and our values not up for negotiation.    A troubled summit  Against this backdrop, the Alaska meeting was never likely to produce more than gestures. Trump may genuinely want peace and to be remembered as the leader who ended the war. Yet he is dealing with a counterpart who has justified the invasion of Ukraine in civilisational and existential terms. For Putin, Ukraine is not only territory but a symbol of Russia’s identity and sovereignty, cast as a bulwark against Western encroachment. Within this frame, Russia would view restoring Ukraine’s borders, accepting its European orientation, or tolerating a long-term American presence in the region as defeats of principle rather than concessions of interest.  Trump’s ambition to end the war faces an almost insoluble dilemma. Europe will reject a settlement that rewards aggression, while Putin refuses to surrender territory he has cast as integral to Russian civilisation. Land swaps seem practical but please neither side. If the conflict were to remains frozen, Ukraine will be fractured and the deeper issues unresolved. Peace demands compromise, but compromise undermines the very narratives on which Moscow has built its legitimacy. As a result, unless Putin retreats from his civilisational framing of the war, any settlement will remain elusive and Ukraine’s future uncertain.  Dr Nicholas Morieson is a Research Fellow at the Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation, Deakin University, Melbourne. He is the author of three books, including Weaponizing Civilizationalism for Authoritarianism: How Turkey, India, Russia, and China Challenge Liberal Democracy (Palgrave 2025).  This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

Diplomacy
bolivia flag election ballot

Bolivia: the end of the MAS cycle and a turn to the political center

by Franz Flores

Bolivia’s elections marked the collapse of MAS and the rise of Rodrigo Paz with a moderate and inclusive economic discourse, signaling a shift away from extremes toward the political center. Last Sunday, Bolivia went to the polls to elect a president, vice president, and 130 legislators, including senators and deputies. The results were surprising: Rodrigo Paz of the Christian Democratic Party (PDC) won with 32.1% of the vote, despite not being ranked as the frontrunner in any of the more than 18 polls conducted. The favorites, Tuto Quiroga and Samuel Doria Medina, received 26.8% and 19.8% of the vote, respectively. Meanwhile, although somewhat expected yet still shocking, the Movement for Socialism (MAS) suffered its most humiliating defeat: after nearly 20 years as a dominant party, it garnered just 3.2% of the vote and secured only one seat in the legislature. What happened? How did Rodrigo Paz manage to win the election? And how did the right-wing opposition end up losing? Throughout the campaign, Samuel Doria Medina of National Unity and Tuto Quiroga of LIBRE consistently led the polls as the main alternatives to MAS. Early this year, there was growing anticipation around a possible opposition alliance to “stand up to MAS.” That effort collapsed, however, and the public’s perception of both candidates deteriorated as their personal ambitions clashed—ironically creating an opening for MAS to potentially cling to power. Once the campaign was underway, Quiroga and Doria Medina, convinced by the polls that they would make it to a runoff, turned against each other. On social media, a smear war erupted with false news and mutual slander. While these two candidates weakened each other, Rodrigo Paz stayed above the fray, managing to deliver his message with little turbulence. Paz offered a platform he described as “capitalism for everyone,” or platita para todos (“money for all”), promising more subsidies, as well as lower taxes and tariffs. This placed him closer to the statist left than to the liberal market-oriented stance of Tuto and Samuel. Amid an ongoing economic crisis, many Bolivians felt that policies were needed to reactivate the economy and stabilize the exchange rate. A significant portion of the middle and lower classes feared that the proposed economic shock measures would worsen their already precarious situation. Both Quiroga and Doria Medina openly embraced the radical proposals of Argentina’s president Javier Milei as their model. Paz, by contrast, offered a more moderate alternative, attracting much of the electorate. Another key dimension of this election was the projection of political renewal. On the left, figures such as Eduardo del Castillo and Andrónico Rodríguez—both under 40 and emerging from the MAS ranks—sought to embody generational change. But del Castillo was weighed down by his association with Arce’s unpopular government, while Rodríguez faced criticism from the right for his ties to Morales, even as Morales himself accused him of betrayal. On the right, renewal was nonexistent: both Quiroga and Doria Medina were veterans of the pre-Evo Morales party system, recycling old formulas such as privatization and free-market economics. In this context, the PDC ticket of Rodrigo Paz and Edman Lara was well positioned. While Paz is a seasoned politician with 26 years of experience, mostly as a subnational leader, Lara—a former police captain—was a classic outsider. With an active presence on social media, he had built a reputation as a crusader against corruption, after denouncing fellow police officers for misconduct. In August 2024, he was permanently dismissed from the Bolivian police force. Looking at the results by region reveals the territorial fault lines in Bolivian politics. The PDC, like MAS before it, secured victories in departments such as Oruro, Potosí, and La Paz, along with the populous city of El Alto, where it won over 45% of the vote. By contrast, Quiroga and Doria Medina performed strongly in Santa Cruz, Beni, Pando, and Tarija—the so-called media luna—a region traditionally resistant to candidates from western Bolivia. Rodrigo Paz and Tuto Quiroga will now face each other in a runoff on October 19. Paz’s challenge will be to expand his support in Santa Cruz and wealthier urban areas, while Quiroga must convince middle- and lower-income sectors that market-oriented reforms can serve as a viable alternative to MAS without undermining the poor. After nearly two decades, Bolivians have chosen to close the MAS chapter in power and begin a new one—not defined by extremes, but by a turn toward the political center. This is a positive sign at a moment of deep national crisis. *Machine translation, proofread by Ricardo Aceves at Latinoamérica21 (L21)

Diplomacy
President Donald Trump poses for a photo with President Ilham Aliyev of Azerbaijan and Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan of Armenia, Friday, August 8, 2025, in the Oval Office. (Official White House Photo by Daniel Torok)

Historic Breakthrough for Peace in the South Caucasus?

by Jakob Wöllenstein

Pashinyan and Aliyev sign groundbreaking agreements with Trump on peace and infrastructure projects between Armenia and Azerbaijan On August 8, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan and Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev met with U.S. President Donald Trump at the White House for a “historic peace summit.” Both countries declared a permanent renunciation of war, endorsed 17 negotiated provisions of a future peace treaty, and formally withdrew from the OSCE Minsk Group. At the heart of the agreement lies the “Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity” (TRIPP), an infrastructure initiative in Armenia’s Syunik region encompassing railways, pipelines, and fiber-optic networks. In exchange, the United States receives exclusive development rights for 99 years, while Armenia retains formal sovereignty over the territory. The deal diminishes Russia’s regional influence, strengthens Turkey’s strategic position, and provokes discontent in Iran. For Armenia, the agreement opens up new trade opportunities but also entails risks due to the rupture with traditional partners and domestic political criticism. Azerbaijan gains a direct land corridor to Turkey, access to new markets, and enhanced international prestige. For the United States, the deal offers economic and security benefits as well as a boost in global political standing. The European Union sees potential for regional stabilization and new trade routes but must acknowledge its diminished role as a mediator compared to Washington. If successfully implemented, the agreements could mark a historic turning point for the South Caucasus. Three-Way Summit at the White House While the world was watching the American tariff ultimatum to Putin, wondering whether a ceasefire in Ukraine might be imminent, an unexpected high-level meeting took place at the White House on August 8—one that could also make history and is at least indirectly linked to the larger conflict in Eastern Europe. Donald Trump personally received Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan and Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev for what he—never shy of grand words—had announced as a “historic peace summit.” Against the backdrop of the nearly four-decade-long, geopolitically charged conflict between the two countries and the resulting blockade in the South Caucasus, this represented a breakthrough in efforts toward a peace treaty between Yerevan and Baku. Several agreements and contracts were signed. In addition to separate bilateral economic and investment deals with the U.S., and the official withdrawal of both capitals from the OSCE Minsk Group (a format established in 1992 to resolve the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict), two documents stand out in particular. Letter of Intent: Peace Treaty The first is a letter of intent in which both governments—under the symbolic mediation and patronage of the U.S.—reaffirm their commitment to finalize the ongoing peace treaty. The 17 points already negotiated are set as binding. Both parties declare their intention to end all wars permanently and renounce any acts of revenge. The core issue remains the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, which since the late 1980s has claimed up to 50,000 lives and caused the displacement of hundreds of thousands. After more than thirty years of fruitless international mediation, Azerbaijan had created facts on the ground through its (re)conquest of Nagorno-Karabakh in two offensives in 2020 and 2023. Since then, Pashinyan’s government has sought a peace treaty, aiming to open borders not only with Azerbaijan but also with its close ally, Turkey. This effort entails effectively relinquishing claims to the Nagorno-Karabakh region, historically inhabited by Armenians for centuries. However, Baku had repeatedly made additional demands, such as amending the Armenian constitution or granting a corridor to its exclave of Nakhchivan through Armenian territory in the strategically sensitive Syunik/Zangezur region.[1] This long, narrow strip of land in southern Armenia—only about 30 km wide at its narrowest—separates Azerbaijan’s mainland from its western province and also forms Armenia’s direct border with Iran, a crucial lifeline for the historically beleaguered landlocked state. Granting the Azeris a “corridor” here had long been a red line for Yerevan. Mutual distrust remains high after decades of hostile propaganda, and Armenian society is deeply traumatized by the recent war’s displacement, cultural destruction, and fears of a potential annexation of the province by Baku. It is at this juncture that the U.S. steps in as a kind of “neutral” guarantor power for the so-called corridor. Trump Route for Peace and Prosperity In the second, and arguably most important, Washington agreement, the U.S. is granted 99-year exclusive special rights to develop infrastructure in the Syunik/Zangezur region. Through an Armenian-American joint venture, led by a consortium of private companies (including potential third-country partners), the so-called “Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity” (TRIPP) is to be built. In addition to restoring a disused railway line for passenger and freight traffic, plans include new oil and gas pipelines and fiber-optic cables. Unlike some earlier proposals, the territory itself is not being leased to the U.S.—this is a commercial project in which Armenia retains full sovereign control. However, the use of private American security firms to protect the infrastructure is possible. After the meeting, all three leaders hailed the results as “historic,” and the European Union also voiced strong approval. But while the immediate participants stand to benefit significantly from implementing the deals, the likely losers are in Moscow and Tehran. Yerevan Distances Itself from Moscow Opening borders with long-hostile neighbors offers significant economic potential. Access to the Turkish market in particular could stimulate new growth. Geopolitically, it opens previously closed avenues for diversification; notably, the already ongoing strengthening of ties with the EU and the West could reach a new level. Since autumn 2023, Yerevan has been promoting its “Crossroads of Peace” project, a plan to expand cross-border infrastructure in the South Caucasus, in which the Syunik region is a crucial puzzle piece. The Washington deals also come with American investment commitments—not only in energy and infrastructure but also in fields such as semiconductor production and AI. Germany and the EU have also long pledged investments in Armenia’s transport links and regional connectivity. At the same time, bringing a U.S. presence into such a geostrategically vital chokepoint is a clear affront to both Russia and Iran, historically important partners for Armenia. Until recently, Moscow was considered Armenia’s indispensable security guarantor and still maintains a military presence in the country. Yet since 2023, Yerevan has been openly turning away from Russia. Until early 2025, Russian FSB forces still controlled Armenia’s border crossings to Turkey and Iran—a Soviet-era legacy—but Armenians have since taken over. In July, Pashinyan’s government even claimed to have foiled a Russian-backed coup attempt. At the end of August, Armenia will host joint military exercises with the U.S. for the third time under the name “Eagle Partner.” This is also unwelcome news for Tehran. Despite stark cultural and political differences, the Islamic Republic and Armenia share an interest in keeping trade routes open to Europe and Russia in light of their rivalry with Azerbaijan and Turkey. A U.S. presence right on its doorstep in Syunik would be a security nightmare for Iran and could disrupt this export route. For Yerevan, given Trump’s unpredictability in foreign policy, it is not without risk to damage relations with a friendly neighbor and openly break with Russia. Domestically, Pashinyan faces fierce criticism over the agreement. The opposition accuses him of having completely abandoned the Nagorno-Karabakh issue, failing to secure any prospect of return for the 100,000 displaced Armenians, and not holding Baku accountable for alleged war crimes. Voices from the Syunik region itself fear a sell-out of their land, new political tensions, and economic harm from a collapse in trade and tourism with Iran. Nevertheless, the Armenian Prime Minister hopes to benefit politically from the agreement. In the 2026 parliamentary elections, he aims for re-election, but his approval ratings recently stood at just over ten percent. A breakthrough in the peace process—which he has long declared the top priority of his foreign policy—could give him a vital boost, as the overwhelming majority of Armenians want peace. Baku’s Interests Critics had accused Baku of using a “salami tactic” of making ever-new demands to extract maximum concessions from Pashinyan’s government without genuine interest in a peace treaty—especially if it would bring economic growth and stability to its long-time enemy, and democratic, systemic rival, Armenia. But Azerbaijan’s own economic prospects are also a strong driving force. A direct land link from Azerbaijan’s heartland through Nakhchivan to Turkey offers major potential for trade and energy exports to Europe. At the same time, Aliyev wants to position his country for the post-fossil era as a hub for transit and trade. This requires open borders and international trust. With Pashinyan’s government seen as Baku’s “best chance” to secure a deal quickly and on favorable terms, Aliyev also has an interest in finalizing the agreement soon. For a government that has recently tightened the screws on what remains of a free press and democratic civil society, positioning itself on the world stage as part of a major peace initiative is a welcome image boost. Events like COP-29 (2024) and the Global Media Forum (2025) have already been used by Aliyev to polish his image and sideline human rights issues. Partners like Beijing have little concern for such matters, and Azerbaijan’s location on the “Middle Corridor” is already paying off: trade with China rose 25 percent in the first quarter of 2025. Relations with Moscow, however, have sunk to a new low since the downing of an Azerbaijani passenger plane in December 2024 and further escalations. By signing the Washington deal—paired with the lifting of U.S. arms export restrictions—Baku makes clear that it has finally emancipated itself from its former colonial power, Russia. U.S. Interests For the U.S. President, the “historic peace deals” are partly about business. Businessman Trump sees the opportunity and named as the goal of the route bearing his name “to fully unlock the potential of the South Caucasus region.” An American presence in such a geostrategically important area, right on Iran’s doorstep, is also a significant security move. Even if no state “boots on the ground” are planned to secure the project, joint military exercises are already taking place, and private security companies would still count as a U.S. presence. The new rapprochement between Washington and Baku also fits neatly into broader Middle East dynamics. While Baku’s relations with Tehran fluctuate between occasional cooperation and open rivalry, Azerbaijan is considered Israel’s most important partner among Muslim countries—particularly in security and intelligence cooperation. With Washington now lifting arms export restrictions for Baku, some observers see a possible new trilateral alliance between Washington, Tel Aviv, and Baku against Iran. Not least, the very name “TRIPP” suggests prestige plays a role for the U.S. President. With the “one day” in which Donald Trump said he would end the Russian war in Ukraine now in its eighth month, it suits the self-proclaimed Nobel Peace Prize candidate to claim that his genius has solved a nearly forty-year conflict through infrastructure projects (paid for by others) where the world’s major powers—and most recently Joe Biden—had failed. The White House promptly tweeted a photo after the summit captioned: “THE Peace President.” Europe’s Interests EU representatives and leading member states explicitly welcomed the Washington agreements. Not only German President Steinmeier and EU foreign policy chief Kallas had advocated for a peace treaty during visits to the region earlier this year, but Macron also expressed his support during a summer meeting with Pashinyan. The fact that the Europeans failed to take Washington’s place as guarantors of a peace deal—even though a similar offer involving a Swiss company was reportedly on the table—is as sobering as it is unsurprising. However, given that a qualitatively new U.S. presence could help stabilize this vital region in the EU’s neighborhood, weaken Putin’s war-waging Russia, diversify energy sources, and ultimately channel many of the new trade routes into the European heartland, the EU stands to gain much from the agreement. If the Armenians now get a boost to pursue their European ambitions, this offers an opportunity for greater engagement from Brussels and member states—especially through economic investments that expand the European footprint in the region and reduce Armenia’s painful dependence on Russia in trade and energy. Already Historic? Although Trump’s self-congratulatory statements after the meeting might have led some to believe the peace treaty was already a done deal, there are still hurdles to the final signing. Aliyev emphasized that Pashinyan’s government must first “do its homework,” referring primarily to the politically contentious constitutional amendment in Armenia. The planned “Trump Route” currently exists only on paper. Russia and Iran see their interests in the region directly threatened by the project, and although Russia’s weakness is largely self-inflicted—starting (at the latest) with its 2022 invasion of Ukraine, which has since tied up most of its resources—both countries can be expected to take steps to disrupt or even block TRIPP’s construction. Tehran has already declared it will “turn the project into a grave.” Turkey, by contrast, stands to benefit if it can use the new economic links to expand its role as a regional power in the Caucasus. It will also be interesting to see how the deal might indirectly affect Georgia, an EU candidate country that is rapidly drifting away from the West. The expansion of alternative transport routes could undermine Georgia’s current monopoly on direct overland links between the EU, Azerbaijan, and Central Asia—the overhaul of the key Baku–Tbilisi–Kars railway is nearly complete. The “businessman”-controlled Georgian Dream government might thus become more “receptive” to economic pressure aimed at steering it back toward a democratic, pro-European course. If both agreements—a peace settlement, an open border, and the comprehensive development of planned infrastructure projects in the Syunik region under U.S. patronage—are implemented, the label “historic” would be entirely appropriate, with significance far beyond the region. Economically, it would make an important contribution to boosting connectivity between Europe and Central and East Asia via the “Middle Corridor” and the Caspian Sea. [1] The official name of the Armenian province is Syunik. The term Zangezur, on the other hand, is mainly used by Azerbaijan and Turkey and refers to a historical region that extends beyond the present-day province of Syunik.

Diplomacy
Nayib Bukele's 2025 Address to the Nation

Bukele and indefinite reelection: a point of no return

by Charli McMackin

Bukele's indefinite reelection marks a dangerous turning point for El Salvador, masked by popularity and a fleeting sense of security. In 2021, when Nayib Bukele updated his bio on X to read “The coolest dictator in the world,” he was flirting with a reality that had yet to fully unfold. But on July 31, 2025, the prophecy he once made on social media came true: with 57 votes in favor and just three against, the Legislative Assembly approved a constitutional amendment allowing Bukele to govern indefinitely. Among both supporters and critics, this latest assault on democracy comes as little surprise. Bukele’s presidency has long borne the hallmarks of an aspiring despot: subordination of the judiciary to the executive, a shrinking and reconfigured legislature, and more recently, forcing journalists and dissidents into exile under the Foreign Agents Law. Still, few doubt that last Thursday’s vote marks the darkest chapter yet in El Salvador’s accelerating descent into authoritarian rule. For now, the Salvadoran president appears untouchable. His radical security policy—despite serious human rights violations against both alleged and actual gang members—has transformed the former homicide capital of the world into one of the safest countries in the Western Hemisphere, winning him overwhelming support at home and abroad. He’s also been bolstered by a weak opposition, close ties to Trump and the so-called “new right,” and the conspicuous silence of Western leaders. Yet, according to a survey by LPG Datos, only 1.4% of Salvadorans find it troubling that power is concentrated in a single person’s hands. Still, Bukele will face future hurdles in holding on to power. What happens when Bukele’s brand of “peace” becomes normalized? Or when the country is hit by an economic, social, or environmental crisis? It seems unlikely that the self-proclaimed dictator would willingly cede power or allow a new government to take over following an electoral defeat. Democratic erosion Last week’s constitutional reform, which removed term limits for the presidency, also extended the presidential term from five to six years, eliminated run-off elections, and brought forward the 2028 presidential election to 2027 to align it with legislative and municipal elections—an attempt to capitalize on Bukele’s electoral momentum. These are merely the latest blows to El Salvador’s already fragile democracy. Just a year after his first presidential win in 2019, Bukele evoked memories of the civil war that plagued the 1980s. Flanked by heavily armed soldiers, he stormed into Congress to demand a $109 million loan for his “war” against gangs. In 2021, he went after the judiciary, purging the courts and replacing independent judges with loyalists from his party, Nuevas Ideas. But it was in 2022 that his presidency entered its defining phase with the declaration of a “state of exception,” which the Legislative Assembly has since renewed 41 times. For decades, El Salvador was caught in the crossfire between the notorious Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13) and Barrio 18 gangs (both Sureños and Revolucionarios), which controlled nearly every aspect of daily life. Attacks on businesses were common, and brutal killings occurred frequently and with impunity. Many families stopped sending their children to school, as the journey often meant crossing gang-controlled territories. Nearly every aspect of social life was confined to one’s neighborhood or home. Because Salvadoran gangs were not major players in international drug trafficking—unlike Mexican and Colombian cartels—violent extortion became their main source of income. In 2014, the Central Bank calculated that the cost of extortion in El Salvador equaled more than 3% of GDP; that same year, public spending on education was 3.8% of GDP. Every administration before Bukele promised to take on the gangs, but all failed to end the bloodshed. Clearly, their “tough” approach wasn’t tough enough. These broken promises, made over and over by the two dominant parties—right-wing ARENA and leftist FMLN—only deepened public disillusionment and a sense of chaos. Opposition missteps Despite his rising popularity as mayor of Nuevo Cuscatlán under the FMLN—where he began his political career in 2012—Bukele’s relationship with his former party deteriorated. In October 2017, the FMLN finally expelled him for “defamatory actions,” following an incident in which he allegedly threw an apple at a party colleague. But the decision backfired: during the next year’s legislative and municipal elections, which Bukele had been poised to win, the FMLN suffered crushing defeats. In part, this was because a bitter Bukele had urged voters to spoil their ballots or stay home. With the FMLN stripped of its historic majority in the legislature, ARENA and the broader right were poised to take control. The FMLN’s hostility toward Bukele has hurt it ever since he became president in 2019. His critics—both inside and outside the party—have largely focused their attacks on his security policies, a strategy that has failed for several reasons. First, mass incarceration of gang members is the bedrock of Bukele’s popularity. Attempts to discredit him over human rights abuses tied to the Territorial Control Plan don’t resonate with voters whose own rights were routinely violated by the same gangs that the opposition now appears to defend. Second—and more importantly—security is just the visible tip of the “Bukelismo” iceberg. While his blatant disregard for the rights and freedoms of detainees (many imprisoned without trial in megaprison CECOT) deserves condemnation, the broader democratic backsliding—total institutional control, indefinite reelection, and an unprecedented concentration of power—is the more enduring threat to the future of this Central American nation. A fleeting calm? No one should be surprised by the popularity of a figure like Bukele in a country like El Salvador. After all, living without fear is a basic human right that Salvadorans were denied for far too long. Bukele’s ability to provide security where all his predecessors failed spectacularly explains not only his staggering popularity, but also the Salvadoran people’s willingness to discard their own democracy. But the region is full of cautionary tales about what comes next. Although Bukele has gained support faster and more decisively than others, it’s worth remembering that there was a time when Ortega enjoyed broad support in Nicaragua—just as Chávez did in Venezuela. Like Bukele, those leaders promised to cure ailments long deemed incurable. But when their people no longer wanted the medicine, it was already too late. For now, Bukele’s indefinite reelection is cloaked in his immense popularity. It lends him a veneer of democratic legitimacy, in the narrowest sense of the word. But someday—perhaps sooner than expected—the Salvadoran people may find themselves suffocated by the iron hand that once gave them “breath.” *Machine translation, proofread by Ricardo Aceves.