Subscribe to our weekly newsletters for free

Subscribe to an email

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

Diplomacy
President Donald Trump participates in a bilateral meeting with President Volodymyr Zelenskyy of Ukraine (54732021148)

Transatlantic unity at the White House disguises lack of progress towards just peace for Ukraine

by Stefan Wolff

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

Diplomacy
Chinese flag near port. Arrows of cranes from sea harbor. Deliveries to port of China. Deliveries of goods from PRC. Maritime logistics in China. Import of Chinese goods by sea. Export at China

Harbors of Power: How China’s African Ports Are Shaping India’s Ocean Strategy

by Amit Kumar Singh

A new maritime chessboard is emerging across the Indian Ocean. Over the past decade, China has transformed several African ports into strategic outposts. What began as trade-focused infrastructure under the Belt and Road Initiative has evolved into a network of dual-use facilities with both commercial and military potential. At the forefront is Djibouti, where China established its first overseas military base in 2017, located just a few miles from the US Camp Lemonnier. Positioned at the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, a chokepoint through which nearly ten percent of global oil flows, the base grants Beijing critical surveillance and logistical capabilities. Since its establishment, the base has supported PLA Navy operations, including anti-piracy missions and amphibious training exercises, signalling a shift toward power projection. Further south, Tanzania’s Bagamoyo Port and Kenya’s Lamu Port underscore China’s ambitions across the western Indian Ocean. Though Bagamoyo was suspended in 2019 amid sovereignty concerns, the project’s blueprint remains an ongoing strategic ambition for Beijing. China’s strategic ports in Africa: from commerce to control  China’s port investments along Africa’s eastern seaboard are part of a broader plan to embed influence at key maritime chokepoints. The Djibouti base enables far-seas naval operations and intelligence reach. Kenya’s Lamu Port, while not Chinese-controlled, holds strategic potential as a future logistics hub aligned with Beijing’s maritime ambitions. Other reports suggest interest in Equatorial Guinea’s Bata Port, Sudan’s Port Sudan, and Mozambique’s Nacala, indicating a westward expansion of China’s Indian Ocean footprint. These ports offer China access to vital transit routes and reinforce its capacity to sustain long-range naval deployments. The combination of civilian infrastructure with military potential—known as dual-use facilities—grants the PLA Navy flexibility in both peacetime and contingency operations. This growing footprint represents a subtle yet steady attempt to lock in strategic leverage across one of the world’s busiest maritime corridors. Together, these facilities provide China with a triangulated presence across the Red Sea, Horn of Africa, and Mozambique Channel—impacting vital Indian trade and energy routes. They also provide Beijing with the means to gather maritime intelligence, secure sea lines of communication, and possibly influence regional political calculations. India’s ocean strategy: recalibrating amid encirclement  India’s response is strategic and distributed. Under the SAGAR (Security and Growth for All in the Region) doctrine, India promotes inclusive maritime development and regional stability. Rather than build permanent bases, India pursues access agreements. It is upgrading Agalega Island (Mauritius), maintaining interest in Seychelles’ Assumption Island, and enjoying naval access to Oman’s Duqm Port. Since 2017, mission-based deployments have ensured near-continuous presence in the Gulf of Aden. These deployments allow the Indian Navy to maintain a forward presence in key hotspots while avoiding the political baggage of foreign bases. They also improve responsiveness to humanitarian assistance and disaster relief operations, anti-piracy missions, and regional crises. For example, during the 2023 Sudan crisis, the Indian Navy swiftly launched Operation Kaveri to evacuate over 3,800 Indian and foreign nationals. Similarly, India’s proactive anti-piracy patrols in the Gulf of Aden have ensured the safe passage of thousands of merchant vessels over the past decade. This mobile posture reinforces India’s reputation as a reliable first responder in the region. India also prioritises multilateral cooperation. It hosts the Milan naval exercise and participates in engagements like IBSAMAR (with Brazil and South Africa) and La Pérouse (with Quad plus navies). Coordination with France has deepened, with joint patrols near Réunion Island under a logistics agreement. Such engagements are not only tactical, they are political statements of alignment and trust. They underscore India’s growing capability to coordinate complex maritime missions and signal its intention to lead from within regional frameworks rather than dominate them. In 2023, India launched an expanded outreach through its Information Fusion Centre, Indian Ocean Region (IFC-IOR), collaborating with East African coastal states on maritime domain awareness, hydrography, and port call diplomacy. The IFC-IOR serves as a hub for sharing real-time data, boosting early warning capacity, and deterring illegal maritime activities such as trafficking, Illegal, Unreported and Unregulated (IUU) fishing, and piracy. While China’s approach emphasises large-scale infrastructure development, India is constructing a maritime presence that places greater emphasis on trust-building, transparency, and regional alignment. In a space increasingly shaped by port politics, India’s focus on utility over ubiquity signals a long-term commitment to maritime stability. Indo-African Arc: diplomatic realignment  India’s diplomatic vision is evolving into an Indo-African maritime arc. The Asia-Africa Growth Corridor (AAGC), co-developed with Japan, aims to offer transparent, locally owned alternatives to China’s model. Though still aspirational, it signals India’s strategic intentions. India’s engagement in the Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA) further anchors its presence through initiatives on disaster relief, fisheries, climate resilience, and blue economy development. India’s hydrographic cooperation with Kenya—through naval surveys, nautical chart hand‑over, and personnel training—as well as similar support for EEZ surveillance in Tanzania, all reinforce a partnership‑driven maritime presence. In Madagascar, Comoros, and Mozambique, Indian assistance in capacity building and climate adaptation has strengthened India’s maritime diplomacy by projecting it as a credible development partner Beyond government initiatives, India’s increasing outreach through Track 1.5 and Track 2 dialogues demonstrates a broader understanding of strategic influence. Narratives of South-South cooperation, shared colonial histories, and inclusive development resonate deeply across African coastal nations. India’s strategy diverges from China’s in both intent and execution. While Beijing favours physical infrastructure, India offers capacity building and cooperative frameworks. This appeals to regional states increasingly wary of debt diplomacy. The emphasis on skill-sharing, maritime governance, and local ownership reflects India’s confidence in a more horizontal model of engagement. Should India opt for counterbalance or coexistence? As China deepens its Indian Ocean presence, India must remain agile. It is not matching China port-for-port but building coalitions, enhancing indigenous capability, and advancing a maritime order rooted in rules and reciprocity. Strategic cooperation with France, the US, Japan, and Australia—including the India-France-Australia trilateral—widens India’s operational theatre without hard alignments. Domestically, initiatives like Make in India and institutions like the Naval Innovation and Indigenization Organisation foster autonomy and modernisation. These reforms enhance India’s ability to sustain blue water operations and reduce dependency on foreign suppliers. Strategic horizons beyond the harbor  The evolving maritime landscape in the western Indian Ocean is more than a competition over ports; it is a contest over norms, access, and the architecture of regional security. China’s approach, anchored in infrastructural assertiveness and long-term presence, represents a significant shift in Indian Ocean geopolitics. India, in contrast, is building a decentralised yet durable framework of partnerships, access agreements, and institutional trust. India’s strategy is not merely reactionary; it is rooted in its vision of a free, open, and inclusive maritime space. By blending strategic realism with normative commitment, India offers coastal African states and island nations an alternative that emphasises sovereignty, sustainability, and shared development. This layered maritime engagement, ensures that India remains a credible and constructive player in the region. In the long run, strategic patience may prove more effective than infrastructural ambition. While China’s port-led strategy seeks control through presence, India is cultivating influence through principles. As regional nations assert agency and seek balanced partnerships, India’s maritime model could become not only preferable but indispensable. Moreover, the Indian Ocean’s future will not be determined solely by naval strength or economic muscle, but by who can foster the most resilient and inclusive partnerships. The contest is as much about ideas as it is about assets. India’s model, grounded in cooperation rather than coercion, is increasingly well-suited to the aspirations of coastal African nations navigating a multipolar maritime environment. If the Indian Ocean is to remain a space of peace, prosperity, and pluralism, it will require leadership anchored in legitimacy and cooperation. In choosing that path, India may well secure more than maritime advantage-it may shape the very character of the Indo-African seascape for decades to come. Dr Amit Kumar Singh is a researcher in International Relations with core specialisation in India’s foreign policy, Indo-Pacific studies, maritime security and geopolitics. This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

Diplomacy
Putin-Xi meeting (2)

Russia’s Turn to the East and Sino-Russian Relations

by Zhao Huasheng

Where is the "East" for Russia? This is the central question of the "pivot to the East" policy. Throughout Russian history, the debate over East and West has never ceased, embodied most clearly in the opposition between Slavophiles and Westernizers. Their discussion unfolded mainly within the framework of the "East–West" problem. However, it would likely be incorrect to view their debate through the lens of today’s understanding of East and West. The "East", as understood by the Slavophiles, was not Asia in the usual sense of the word—neither geographically nor culturally. The Slavophiles called for a "return to Asia," but by "Asia" they meant Slavic civilization in contrast to Europe, in other words, Russia itself—not the East Asian Confucian civilization led by China. They argued that Russia’s traditions and history were distinct from those of Europe and self-sufficient, and that Russia should follow its own path—one that is Slavic, not Asian. Moreover, the Slavophiles did not consider Russia part of Asian civilization. The views of Slavophiles and Westernizers on whether Russia belongs to Europe are diametrically opposed, but on the question of whether Russia belongs to Asia, their opinions coincide: neither considered Russia to be part of Asian civilization. Thus, the subject of their debate does not lie in choosing between Europe and Asia, but in choosing between Europe and Russia. In the context of their dispute, the "East" refers to the Asian part of Russia and Russia itself. Russian Eurasianism emerged in the 1920s and, according to its ideas, Russia has both European and Asian features but is neither Europe nor Asia. Instead, it represents a “closed and complete geographic, economic, and ethnic whole” [1]. In other words, from the point of view of Eurasianist philosophy, Russia was seen as a unique civilization — a notion that echoes Slavophile thinking. After the collapse of the USSR, neo-Eurasianism appeared in Russia, which includes various strands. Unlike classical Eurasianism, neo-Eurasianism goes beyond theoretical discussion and has a practical orientation. When the former Soviet republics began gaining independence, neo-Eurasianism also started to carry certain political and geopolitical meanings. The idea of Eurasia’s self-sufficiency was inherited from classical Eurasianism. Thus, neither Slavophilism, nor Westernism, nor Eurasianism actually turns to Asia. Westernism is by nature outward-looking and advocates integration with Europe. Slavophilism and Eurasianism are inward-oriented, calling for a return to one's roots. How, then, did the turn to the East happen if none of these major currents focused on Asia? Does this not present a contradiction? In fact, there is no contradiction. The essence of the debate among Russian intellectual traditions concerns the characteristics of Russian civilization and its development path, while the pivot to the East relates primarily to foreign relations and external policy. In the first case, it is about the spiritual East and West — or the civilizational and cultural East and West. In the second, it is about the East and West in terms of international relations, where specific countries and regions matter more than the civilizations they belong to. There is no conflict between these two planes: the first one emphasizes the civilizational position of the country, while the second concerns the direction of its foreign policy. Civilizational position and diplomatic position are not the same. The civilizational position of a country reflects its value system and spiritual orientation. The diplomatic position reflects key aspects of its foreign policy at a given moment. The civilizational aspect influences foreign policy, but it does not determine a permanent shift in foreign policy priorities. A country’s official foreign policy is shaped not only by its civilizational identity, but also by its actual political, economic, and security interests. The last factor usually plays a decisive role in a complex international environment. The civilizational position is also not necessarily closely tied to interstate relations. Although Russia belongs to European civilization, this does not mean that its relations with Western countries will necessarily be better or worse than with non-Western ones. In practice, many of Russia’s friendly relations are with non-Western countries, while it has very few friends among Western states. The historical context of Russia’s pivot to the East. Russia’s modern pivot to the East is not the first in the country’s history. It should be noted that throughout the history of Russian foreign policy, the meaning of the term “East” has changed from one era to another. As a rule, the East was understood to mean Asia — geographically separate from Europe and culturally different from it. However, in different contexts, the meaning of “East” varies significantly. Typically, the East refers to the Asian region surrounding Russia — not only geographically to the east of the country (such as China and East Asia), but also in a broader sense. Culturally, the East was perceived as a non-Christian region: the Ottoman Empire, the Caucasus, the Qing Empire, and the Central Asian khanates — all of these were outside the Christian cultural sphere. The Russian language includes a popular expression: “The East is a delicate matter.” This phrase comes from the main character of the Soviet film White Sun of the Desert, Red Army soldier Fyodor Sukhov. His line became a well-known saying used to describe the East. In this context, “the East” refers to Central Asia, which apparently was part of the “East” in the Russian mindset of the 1920s (i.e., the time in which the film is set). However, Central Asia is not part of the current concept of the “pivot to the East.” It is often said that Russia has turned to the East many times, but there is no consensus on when this first occurred. Even during the imperial period, the East was an important direction in Russian foreign policy — the Ottoman Empire and the Caucasus were an inseparable part of this eastern vector [2]. After the 16th century, Russia continued to focus on the East by developing relations with the Ottoman Empire, the Chinese Qing Empire, the Central Asian khanates, and others. Emperor Peter I not only “opened a window to Europe,” but also paid significant attention to the East. In 1716, he ordered a military expedition to Khiva and Bukhara, although it ended unsuccessfully [3]. From the late 17th century onward, ten Russo-Turkish wars were fought over more than 200 years. And although the Ottoman Empire was considered part of the East, the regions where the wars were fought — the Caucasus, Lower Volga, Crimea, Western Ukraine, Moldova, Bessarabia, Istanbul, and the Balkans — are today typically viewed as part of the West. These warm, fertile regions close to Europe cannot be called the East in the true sense of the word. Indeed, this was a major shift in Russian foreign policy, but it was not a pivot to the East — it was more accurately a pivot from the North to the South. Since the Middle Ages, the Grand Duchy of Moscow had exported furs and timber through the Baltic Sea in the north. However, this alone was not enough, and Russia came to understand that in order to become a powerful state, it needed to look southward and gain access to the Black Sea. The development of this southern foreign policy reached its peak during the reign of Catherine II (1762–1796) and continued up until the start of the Crimean War (1853–1856) [4]. Some researchers believe that Russia’s first true pivot to the East began in the late 19th century and was closely associated with the name of Count Sergei Witte. During the reigns of Emperors Alexander III (1881–1894) and Nicholas II (1894–1917), Witte held several high-ranking positions in government: Minister of Transport, Minister of Finance, Chairman of the Council of Ministers, and Chairman of the Committee of Ministers. Thanks to Witte’s efforts, the pivot to the East was formalized as an economic, trade-investment, and transport-logistics strategy. He supported the idea of building the Trans-Siberian Railway; under him, the construction of the Chinese Eastern Railway — stretching from northeastern China to Vladivostok — was planned and completed; and the Russo-Chinese Bank was created in connection with this project. Although Witte’s plans were not fully realized, he was the first to propose a clear eastern strategy. Some scholars argue that until the late 19th century, Russia did not have a clearly formulated strategy toward Asia. Many significant Russian actions in Central Asia and the Far East were not directed from the top but were undertaken independently on the ground. When these expansionist actions succeeded, the imperial government not only acknowledged them but also accepted their outcomes. For example, under the Treaty of Nerchinsk (1689) between Russia and China, the Amur River basin (Heilongjiang in Chinese) belonged to China. Even before the Crimean War, Russian troops were already present in that territory, taking control of settlements and establishing outposts. Although the imperial authorities understood that this violated the bilateral treaty and encroached on Chinese territory, Emperor Nicholas I (1825–1855) famously declared: “A Russian flag once raised must never be lowered.” [5] There is also an opinion that Russia’s first pivot to the East took place in the early years of the Soviet Union and was reflected in the foreign policy of People’s Commissar for Foreign Affairs Georgy Chicherin. The author is convinced that the first pivot of Russia to the East — in the modern sense of the term — occurred after the end of the Crimean War and continued until the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905). The eastern strategy proposed by Sergei Witte emerged precisely during this period [6]. The main content of this first pivot to the East was territorial expansion and colonization of the East, while economic interests played a secondary role. Central Asia, the Far East, and the Caucasus were the primary directions. As a result, Russia took control of the Caucasus in the west, conquered all of Central Asia in the south, and expanded its influence eastward to the Pacific coast. Russia had already been present in Central Asia in the early 18th century, and by the time of the Crimean War had penetrated deeper into the region — for example, the Vernoye Fortress was built by Russian troops in 1854–1855, which became the foundation for the city of Verny (modern-day Almaty). After the Crimean War, in order to be able to deter a potential war with Britain in Central Asia, a strategy of southward advancement was adopted. This strategy involved the incorporation of parts of Central Asia, the conquest of Turkestan and the Central Asian steppes, and approaching the borders of Afghanistan. The development of this strategy was assigned by the emperor to Colonel N.P. Ignatiev [7]. During Russia’s advance in Central Asia, expansion and colonization became an end in themselves, while the goal of containing Britain faded into the background. From 1858, under the command of General M.G. Cherniaev — whom the press dubbed the "Yermak of the 19th century" — Turkestan was annexed, and the cities of Chimkent, Semipalatinsk, Tashkent, and others were captured. In 1867, the Turkestan Governor-Generalship was established, led by K.P. Kaufman, who had previously served as the Vilna Governor-General. In the following years, the Bukhara Emirate, the Khanates of Khiva and Kokand came under Kaufman’s control. At that point, the Russian conquests and colonization of Central Asia were effectively completed. China became the most important direction of this wave of the "pivot to the East." Several years after the Crimean War, taking advantage of the situation in which Beijing was occupied by British and French troops and internal unrest was growing, Russia forced the Qing government to sign a series of treaties. As a result, China lost over 1.5 million square kilometers of land in the northeast and northwest of the country. The person responsible for this was the Russian Empire’s envoy to China, N.P. Ignatiev. Russia’s advance eastward did not stop there. It crossed the Amur River, moved into northeast China, and attempted to annex all of Manchuria by realizing the idea of “Yellow Russia” [8] — turning this territory into a second Bukhara [9]. This idea ultimately failed, mainly because the great powers entered into disputes and conflicts over dividing spheres of influence in China. In 1896, the Russian Empire and the Qing government signed an alliance treaty (the Aigun Treaty), which included a clause on joint military actions against Japan if it attacked either side or Korea. The treaty also granted Russia the right to build a railway through northeastern Chinese territory — nominally for troop transport in wartime — but in reality it became a tool for implementing the idea of Yellow Russia. In 1897, Germany occupied the port of Qingdao. The Qing government turned to Russia for help. The Russian Empire refused, citing its obligation to help only in case of a Japanese attack, and instead used the opportunity to force the Qing to cede Port Arthur (Lüshun). In 1900, Russia joined the Eight-Nation Alliance and deployed troops in China, which was essentially an act of war. Russia occupied all of northeastern China, and in the 64 villages of Jiangdong, it carried out “numerous cleansings” of the Chinese population. The Russo-Japanese War broke out in 1904–1905 due to the rivalry between Russia and Japan over Manchuria and Korea. The main theater of military operations was northeastern China. After the war, Russia supported the independence of Outer Mongolia, as a result of which China lost control over this territory. It is evident that Russia and China view the history of their bilateral relations — and its key figures — in very different, even opposite ways. In the historical consciousness of the Chinese people, Russo-Chinese relations of that period are seen as part of the "century of humiliation," which brought suffering to China and left deep wounds in the hearts of the Chinese people. The complex history of Russian-Chinese relations includes both dark pages and times of friendship and mutual assistance — particularly the Soviet Union’s military support during the war against Japan (1938–1945) and the large-scale assistance provided after the founding of the PRC (1949). These pages, too, have a lasting place in China’s historical memory. In the nearly half-century that passed since Russia’s first pivot to the East, its expansion in this direction reached its peak, resulting in vast territorial gains and reaching the natural limits of expansion in the Far East and Central Asia. This process culminated in the formation of the eastern borders of the Russian Empire, which remained in place until the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. Modern Pivot to the East Russia's turn to the East now has different content and character. It is often linked to the Ukrainian crisis that broke out in 2014 and the conflict with the West. There is some truth in this, but not completely. The shift was driven by a set of factors: first, the shift of the global political and economic center to the Asia-Pacific region; second, Russia’s need to develop Siberia and the Far East; third, the influence of the international situation. In the early 21st century, the Asia-Pacific became home to many economic powers with growing political and economic influence. This attracted Russia’s attention and pushed it to develop closer ties with Asia-Pacific countries, strengthening its position in the region. This reason has been stated repeatedly by Russian President Vladimir Putin. The development of Siberia and the Far East is a key part of the “turn to the East” policy. All measures in this direction aim at this goal. In 2012, when Putin presented the strategy of turning East, he outlined the goal of developing Siberia and the Far East. These regions are rich in natural resources, which have been sought after since the days of tsarist Russia. This is important not only for the regions themselves but for the entire Russian state. Russia sees the potential of these regions and believes they will be a source of wealth and drive the country's prosperity in the 21st century. In this regard, Vladimir Putin set a priority for the entire 21st century — the development of the Far East. At the IX Eastern Economic Forum in September 2024, he again stressed the importance of developing Siberia and the Far East, saying the future of Russia largely depends on it. There is a gap in development between the western and eastern parts of Russia. A visible socio-economic divide causes problems for both the economy and national security. Siberia and the Far East are vast and rich in resources, but sparsely populated and economically underdeveloped, with outdated infrastructure and population decline. These regions border China, Japan, and South Korea — economically stronger, densely populated countries with high demand for resources. Russia believes that if it does not develop Siberia and the Far East, the economic and social gap between its western and eastern parts will grow, and the population in the eastern regions will shrink. These trends could later deepen regional imbalances and reduce the appeal of these territories for residents, weakening the influence of the political center and risking a loss of control. The Ukrainian crisis played a significant role in Russia’s geopolitical and territorial reorientation. All past turns to the East happened after setbacks in the European direction. The turn in the second half of the 19th century came after the defeat in the Crimean War, and early Soviet eastern development also began due to difficult relations with the West. In such cases, as European powers moved East, Russia, losing chances in the West, turned to the weaker East, which it could dominate more easily. This helped it look away from Europe’s pressure and gain in the East to offset losses in the West. The Ukrainian crisis became the most serious conflict between Russia and the West since the Cold War’s end. It changed their relations fundamentally. The West imposed strict and broad sanctions on Russia after the start of the conflict, cutting almost all political, economic, financial, technological, transport, cultural, sports, educational, and humanitarian ties — something that never happened before in Russia-Europe relations. Even during the Crimean War, Europe did not fully cut economic ties with Russia; trade continued through neutral countries. Now, a wall separates Russia from the West, dividing Europe in two, with almost all European countries on the other side. The shadow of war now looms between Russia and the West. Russia began focusing on the East to break the Western political blockade and replace lost markets and resources in Europe. But this only sped up the turn to the East; it did not cause it, since the policy began before the Ukrainian crisis. The turn to the East has been developed both as a scientific concept and a political strategy in academic circles for a long time. One viewpoint holds that the initiator of this idea was Yevgeny Primakov: in 1996, while serving as Minister of Foreign Affairs, he proposed a corresponding concept. In 2012, the Valdai International Discussion Club published an analytical report titled “Toward the Great Ocean, or the New Globalization of Russia,” which promoted the idea of Russia’s development in the direction of the Asia-Pacific region. The authors of this study — Professor S.A. Karaganov and T.V. Bordachev — are among the most active supporters of the turn to the East and later published a series of reports and articles on the topic to shape public opinion accordingly. Professor A.V. Lukin, a leading Russian expert on China, also published a work on the subject of the turn to the East back in 2014. Many other Russian researchers have written a large number of articles addressing this issue. The state policy of the “turn to the East” was proposed later than the concept itself but also before the start of the Ukrainian crisis. The idea of turning East emerged during the presidency of Dmitry Medvedev (2008–2012). In his 2010 address to the Federal Assembly, he stated that Russia faced the task of regional integration into the Asia-Pacific economic space and that expanding ties with countries in the region was taking on strategic importance. After Vladimir Putin returned to the presidency in 2012, the “turn to the East” strategy took its final form. As already noted, this direction began to be developed in 2012, and in his 2013 address to the Federal Assembly, President Putin used the phrase “Russia’s pivot to the Pacific Ocean,” which essentially means the same as the turn to the East. At different times, the term “turn to the East” has had different meanings in terms of goals and direction. Even within the same period, its content changed and was supplemented depending on circumstances. In Russian foreign policy, the turn to the East was initially seen as a supplement to the Eurocentric direction. Its main function was to reduce dependence on Europe without changing the structure of Eurocentric foreign policy. Until Medvedev’s presidency, this was the ideological content of the turn. Later, the eastern vector in Russia’s foreign policy became as important as the European one, aiming for symmetrical development. After 2012, the balance between the eastern and western directions became the central idea of the turn to the East. With the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict in 2022, the ideological meaning of the turn was adjusted again. As the road to the West was blocked, the turn to the East (including to the Global South) became the only option. In this context, it started to represent the center of gravity and support for Russia’s foreign policy. The turn to the East no longer just balanced the European and Asian directions — it became the main direction of foreign policy, with Europe becoming secondary, at least for the time being. However, in Russian academic circles, there are also more absolutist views on this matter. Some believe that with the beginning of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, the 300-year journey of Russia through Europe, which began with Peter the Great, came to an end. The “window to Europe” closed for a long time, and Russia “returned home” — to the East. This conclusion was drawn a century and a half ago by the great writer Fyodor Dostoevsky: back in the 19th century, he argued that Russia had completed its historical path in Europe and should go its own way. But let us remember that in the early post-Soviet years, Westernism was extremely popular, and Russia rushed into the embrace of the West without hesitation (here the author understands “Westernism” more as admiration for the West). After the September 11 attacks, Russian-American relations quickly warmed, and optimistic forecasts were voiced: Russian society had chosen its path — the European one, and the easing of relations with the U.S. drove “the last nail into the coffin” of Eurasian values. Clearly, that scenario did not work out. Time will tell whether predictions about a final separation between Russia and Europe will come true. However, considering historical events, it seems unlikely. In 1697–1698, Peter the Great organized the Grand Embassy — a diplomatic mission to Europe, and after Russia’s victory in the Great Northern War (1700–1721), the country became a great power and from then on actively participated in European affairs, sometimes as a partner of European states, sometimes as an adversary, but always inseparable from Europe. The current confrontation with Europe is a result of the Russia–Ukraine conflict and sanctions. It is not expected to become the norm in Russia’s foreign policy, as it does not align with the patterns of international politics and economics. The present situation is caused by a political conflict, not by a loss of Europe’s importance to Russia. Europe still matters to Moscow in political, economic, and security terms. Russia and Europe remain connected by geography, culture, and religion. President Vladimir Putin has stated that Russia is still part of European civilization, and Europe is an important player — cutting ties with it would be politically unwise, economically undesirable, and impossible from a security standpoint. Russia–Europe relations may go through different phases, but Russia is a European country and cannot ignore Europe or abandon the development of its European direction. If given the opportunity, it will return to it. Russian scholars argue that both Europe and Asia are key directions in the country’s foreign policy. Russia has always approached both regions based on the need for a multi-vector foreign policy and diversified economic cooperation with its external partners. It is possible to predict that the end of the Russia–Ukraine conflict and the lifting of Western sanctions will be followed by a gradual normalization of relations. After that, business ties between Russia and Europe will slowly begin to recover, although this process may take a long time, and relations may not return to their pre-conflict state. As history shows, when Russia goes too far in one direction — West or East — it eventually turns the other way. The success or failure of the turn to the East can only be judged by the goals it sets for itself. It is no longer just a foreign policy and economic concept, but a comprehensive national development strategy. Therefore, its success should be assessed accordingly. Three key criteria can be identified: socio-economic development of the Far East and Siberia; the degree of Russia's integration into the Asia-Pacific economy; and the strengthening of Russia's discursive power in the Asia-Pacific. Progress in all three areas will indicate success, while setbacks will suggest stagnation or regression. These indicators must be evaluated based on long-term data — short-term results show only temporary trends and are not sufficient to judge the overall effectiveness of the strategy. The turn to the East is a long process, inevitably accompanied by difficulties and setbacks. Russian history shows that each shift in foreign policy direction has taken decades and gone through many ups and downs, sometimes even failures. Yet Russia has always stood up again, showing resilience in pursuing long-term goals. In today’s world, development happens at a faster pace. The completion of the turn to the East cannot wait another hundred years, but structural transformation will still take at least ten years, and success is not guaranteed. Much has been achieved over the past decade, but many challenges remain — most of them within Russia itself. Understanding the East holds intangible but important meaning. In the minds of Russians, especially Westernizers, the East and West are opposites. The West symbolizes civilization and progress, while Asia is seen as barbaric and backward. The word “Aziatchina” in Russian carries negative connotations linked to cultural backwardness, roughness, and lack of civility. Europe, by contrast, is viewed positively — for example, by Vissarion Belinsky: “Everything great, noble, human, and spiritual has risen, grown, flourished, and borne luxurious fruit on European soil.” This perception still exists to some extent and traditionally forms a cultural bias in Russia, especially against modern Asia. Because of this cultural barrier, Russia cannot fully become either a European or an Asian country. To truly become part of Asia, Russia must entirely and objectively rethink its understanding of it. The efficiency of Russian government agencies is extremely important, and that of local governments is even more so. Government institutions at all levels are key to implementing the turn to the East strategy. The enthusiasm and effectiveness of local officials play a large role in determining the success of the strategy. Bureaucratic red tape and apathy can ruin even the most promising programs, while weak governance and corruption can destroy any successful policy. Finding a rational and effective model for the development of Siberia and the Far East is a difficult task. The situation in these regions is unique. Chinese, Japanese, and Korean models do not suit Russian conditions. The global economy is currently undergoing changes, and Russia needs to adapt, take advantage of its strengths, and form its own development path. The internal turn to the East requires innovative development. The task is not simple — to ensure the prosperity of Siberia and the Far East while considering their rich natural resources, underdeveloped infrastructure, labor shortages, limited markets, and small-scale processing and scientific industries. Significant efforts are needed for Vladivostok — the capital of the Far Eastern Federal District — to stand out among Tokyo, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and other regional and global financial, tech, innovation, and logistics hubs. Excluding the energy and defense sectors, Russia will find it difficult to carve out a niche in the Asia-Pacific market, which already has a stable structure, well-defined labor division, and strong competition. Russia will need to demonstrate extraordinary competitiveness to enter the Asia-Pacific market successfully. Attracting foreign investment is an important tool for the development of Siberia and the Far East. However, its application requires greater openness to the outside world, a favorable investment climate, reliable legal guarantees, appropriate political measures, rational tax policy, efficient customs procedures, pragmatic labor policy, and a mentality that views foreign capital positively. State policy must be consistent and coordinated, and there must also be an increase in the awareness of the business community [population — translator's note] about market-based rules of economic cooperation. The Ukrainian crisis contributed to the turn to the East, but at the same time brought unforeseen challenges to its implementation. As a result of tough political and economic Western sanctions, foreign investment opportunities have been greatly reduced. Not only were Western investment channels blocked, but investment from other countries has also become severely limited. Scientific and technological cooperation with many countries cannot proceed due to the threat of Western sanctions. Bilateral trade also faces restrictions, and there are serious difficulties and problems with financial settlements. Changes in the global geopolitical and geoeconomic landscape after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict have affected the original concept of the “turn to the East.” First, the Ukrainian crisis narrowed the geographical scope of this process. Major Asian economic and technological powers — Japan and South Korea — played an important role in the turn to the East, but they imposed sanctions on Russia following the United States, and trade cooperation was suspended. As a result, Japan and South Korea are no longer considered part of the turn to the East, which has created challenges for the strategy. Second, the scale of some important projects associated with the turn had to be reduced. For example, the development of the Northern Sea Route. The Northern Sea Route is a key project in the context of the turn to the East: it is a transport artery connecting East Asia and Europe. It is much shorter than the sea route from East Asia to Europe via the Indian Ocean (Suez Canal), which allows for significantly lower shipping costs and shorter delivery times. With the acceleration of global warming, the navigational period — when the Arctic Ocean can be traveled without an icebreaker — is expected to increase. Completion of transport infrastructure along the Northern Sea Route would change the system of international shipping, bringing economic benefits to Russia and raising its geopolitical and geoeconomic significance. However, after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, European sanctions against Russia blocked transport routes to Europe, putting the functioning of this corridor in question. Now, transportation operates only to Murmansk, which supports Russian-Chinese trade but causes difficulties on the European side. In addition, sanctions impact the construction of infrastructure and icebreaking ships. Despite this, in the long term, the value of the Northern Sea Route as a new Eurasian shipping corridor remains, though the restoration of this function should be expected only after an improvement in Russia–Europe relations. China in the context of the turn to the East Russia’s turn to the East does not mean a turn solely to China — the strategy also includes other Asia-Pacific countries such as India, Vietnam, and Southeast Asian states. Japan and South Korea are temporarily not considered due to sanctions. Russia aims to diversify its relationships in Asia while carefully balancing them with China, given its significant role in the current world order. The turn to the East does not carry emotional weight; it is a state strategy based on national interests and needs, not driven by affection for Asia or China. Some opinions — whether intentional or not — equate the turn to friendship with China, which is an emotional interpretation, though it is true that friendly ties help strengthen cooperation between Russia and China. Nevertheless, China is undoubtedly the main direction of Russia’s turn to the East. China is the world’s second-largest economy, second only to the U.S. in nominal GDP. It is a strategic partner of Russia and the world’s largest exporter. Border regions between the two countries require strengthened economic cooperation. Because of all these factors, China holds a central position in Russia’s eastern strategy. China has vast potential for economic collaboration. Trade relations between Russia and China are actively developing — China has been Russia’s top trading partner for 14 years, though there is still room to grow in bilateral trade. China is one of the largest markets for Russian energy exports: in 2023, Russia exported 107 million tons of oil and 8 million tons of LNG to China. By 2025, gas exports to China are expected to reach 38 billion cubic meters. China is also a key player in Arctic development and the Northern Sea Route. It is the second-largest shareholder in the Yamal LNG project, which involves dozens of Chinese companies. The Northern Sea Route requires significant infrastructure development and a fleet of icebreakers, as well as companies responsible for cargo management. China is involved in all these areas and has the capacity to play a major role in infrastructure development across Siberia and the Russian Far East. It is a global leader in fields such as artificial intelligence, ICT, digital economy, and e-commerce. Expanding bilateral cooperation in these areas is essential for regional development. China is also a major market for Russian agricultural, forestry, and seafood products. Due to geographic proximity, economic interaction between Northeast China and the Russian Far East has become very close, directly impacting the lives of local border populations. Despite the fact that the turn to the East is now an established state strategy, Russian public opinion on it is mixed. The once-popular “China threat,” particularly the fear of demographic expansion, has faded. While some fears remain, they are no longer dominant. These fears stem from various sources. One is deep-seated distrust of China and uncertainty about its intentions — concerns over whether China will be a friend or foe in the future, reflecting a lack of confidence in the long-term trajectory of relations. Another factor is the entrenched ideology of Westernism, which clashes with the turn to the East. Advocates of this worldview believe Russia’s future lies in the West and argue that China cannot provide technologies, equipment, or capital on par with the West. They see the pivot as a last resort after being shut out by the West, with little to gain from it. The greatest concern influencing public opinion is the fear of overdependence on China. Some believe it could result in Russia becoming China’s “junior partner,” a “raw material appendage,” or a vassal of China’s economy; that rising reliance on China’s energy market threatens Russia’s energy security; and that Russia may lose neutrality and freedom of maneuver in a possible conflict between China and Asian nations. At the Eastern Economic Forum in September 2024, a moderator even asked a Chinese delegate what was being done to ensure that Chinese businesses remained in China and did not enter Russia. The various sources of these viewpoints share a common background: the asymmetry in development between Russia and China. A key feature of modern Russian-Chinese relations — which have taken shape since the collapse of the USSR in 1991 — is that China’s growth has outpaced Russia’s. For the first time in over 300 years of bilateral ties (dating to the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689), China has surpassed Russia in national power. In 2023, Russia’s GNP was $2.02 trillion, while China’s reached $17.79 trillion — more than eight times higher. Russia’s per capita GDP is only slightly above China’s: $13,800 vs. $12,600. China’s armed forces outnumber Russia’s, are better equipped with modern weapons, and benefit from higher military spending. In 2022, China’s military budget was about $292.2 billion, compared to Russia’s $86 billion. While China’s budget is much smaller than the U.S.’s $877 billion, it still exceeds Russia’s by more than three times. Since the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, Russia’s military budget has increased annually, mainly to meet the needs of the special military operation. However, when measured in U.S. dollars, this increase has been less noticeable due to the sharp devaluation of the ruble. Adequate military spending is crucial to building a modern and capable army. Technological rivalry lies at the core of modern international competition. China is confidently leading the Fourth Industrial Revolution, which is radically transforming the global landscape. The country produces an enormous variety of goods and is often referred to as the “world’s factory.” It possesses strong investment potential and engages in active investment worldwide, especially in countries participating in the Belt and Road Initiative. Despite encountering challenges and difficulties, China’s steady development trend remains intact. Its capacities in investment, technology, and equipment continue to grow. Due to the vast size of the Chinese economy, the scale of Russian-Chinese economic cooperation is also significant, and its share in Russia’s foreign trade is inevitably increasing. This is a natural and non-negative process. It indicates that economic cooperation is becoming increasingly beneficial and important for both countries. Neither the Russian nor Chinese governments express concern about the scale of economic interaction. On the contrary, both sides believe the full potential of their economic cooperation has yet to be realized. China may not provide Russia with everything that Europe can, but likewise, Europe cannot offer what China can. Both Europe and China have their own economic strengths and weaknesses. Trends show that Chinese technologies can replace European products such as automobiles, high-speed rail, communication systems, alternative energy sources, computers, and mobile phones. Europe, in turn, can only substitute for certain Chinese goods. To gain economic benefits, it's not only investments, equipment, and technologies that matter, but also the ability to purchase essential goods and services from abroad, as well as to earn foreign currency through exports and service trade. In 2023, Russia earned $90.5 billion from energy exports to China, generating considerable economic benefits. Economic cooperation is a relationship of mutual dependence. In such relationships, countries both give and take. The more interdependent they are, the more their interests align and the greater the benefits. The level of interdependence varies between bilateral partnerships. While countries strive to diversify their foreign relations, economic interdependence does not necessarily lead to stagnation. A major trend in the global economy today is increasing interdependence between nations. Globalization, regional integration, and cooperation mechanisms are accelerating this process. Typically, countries seek to expand economic cooperation and deepen ties based on equality for mutual gain. There is indeed a power gap between large and small economies. The same trade volume can have very different weight in economies of different sizes. But this doesn’t imply inequality, nor does it mean that one country becomes the vassal of another. If economic relations between unequal economies were inherently unfair, true economic cooperation would not exist. China is the largest or main trading partner of more than 150 countries, all of which — except the U.S. — have smaller economies. If none of those countries became China’s vassal, then how could Russia, as the world’s fourth or fifth largest economy, become one? The issue of overdependence is complex and relative. On one hand, it can be positive — strengthening ties and increasing benefits. On the other, it can cause negative outcomes like loss of economic sovereignty or national security concerns. But what counts as “overdependence” is hard to define because each country’s relationships are unique. In some cases, economic independence is essential for security; in others, full autonomy isn’t pursued. For example, in the EU, the goal of multilateral relations is to create an economic community where overdependence isn’t considered a problem. Moreover, the conditions under which overdependence emerges can vary and are not always within a country’s control. Overdependence has negative consequences only when relations become antagonistic and countries “weaponize” their economic ties, turning them into tools of sanctions and conflict. The clearest example is the Western sanctions imposed on Russia after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict. However, this is not a typical situation in international economic relations. China holds the most prominent position in Russia’s foreign trade structure. In 2023, Russia’s total foreign trade turnover amounted to $710.2 billion, with trade with China accounting for $240 billion — more than 30%. The most important sphere of economic cooperation between the two countries is energy. In 2023, Russia exported 234 million tons of oil, of which 107 million tons (45%) went to China. The same year, Russia’s natural gas exports totaled 139 billion cubic meters, with 34 billion cubic meters (about 25%) going to China. However, these numbers are not stable. They reflect a sharp decline in Russia–Europe trade since the onset of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, a significant drop in Russia’s overall foreign trade, and a rapid rise in trade with China. Influential factors include dramatic changes in the structure of Russia’s energy exports, a reduction in natural gas exports in particular, structural shifts in trade flows, the relegation of the European vector to a secondary role, and the potential suspension of Russian gas supplies to Europe. Still, China remains far from the role once held by Europe in Russia’s foreign trade and energy exports. As great powers, both Russia and China strive to avoid excessive dependence on external players, especially in strategically important areas. This concern is naturally embedded in their national security thinking. In energy, Russia seeks to diversify its export markets, while China aims to diversify its import sources. At the same time, maintaining friendly and stable long-term relations is a necessary condition for developing mutual dependence in a positive and productive direction. Yet whether out of rational caution or political reasoning, the notion of “overdependence” does not accurately describe current Russia–China relations. Modern bilateral economic cooperation is based on objective conditions and internal needs, and most importantly, it brings significant benefits to both countries. After losing its European partners, Russia must urgently complete its pivot to the East and expand its presence in Asian markets — especially in the energy sector, which is of strategic importance. Russia’s current policy agenda prioritizes active development of cooperation with Asian countries, especially energy partners, rather than reducing its scale. Unlike ordinary goods, energy impacts national economic growth and population well-being. Supply and demand in energy create a two-way dependence, not a one-sided one. In this context, fears of overdependence are largely misplaced. Typically, exporters are more proactive than importers. Historically, it is the exporting country that has been more capable of using energy as a political instrument. China has no intention of being a “big brother” to any country, nor of having “little brothers.” This concept is inconsistent with both its political philosophy and policy. The idea of “older and younger brothers” does not align with modern Chinese political thinking. Russia is a proud nation that would never accept the status of a junior partner. China’s relations with its neighbors, regardless of the size of their economies, are based on equality and mutual respect. China never treats them condescendingly or claims seniority. So how could Russia — a global power — become China’s “little brother”? First published in the journal “Russia and the Asia-Pacific.”DOI: 10.24412/1026-8804-2025-2-162-185Trubetskoy, N.S. History. Culture. Language. Moscow: Progress, 1995. p. 258.History of Russian Foreign Policy. 18th Century. Moscow: International Relations, 1998. p. 48.History of the Civilizations of Central Asia. Beijing: China Foreign Translation and Publishing Corporation, 2006. Vol. 5, p. 270.Figes, O. The Crimean War: Forgotten Imperial Conflict. (Translated by Lü Pin and Zhu Zhu). Nanjing: Nanjing University Press, 2022. p. 26.Ayrapetov, O.R. On the Road to Collapse: The Russo-Japanese War 1904–1905. (Translated by Zhou Jian). Beijing: Social Sciences Academic Press, 2021. p. 51.Witte, S.Yu. Memoirs of Count Witte. (Translated by Xiao Yang and Liu Sisi). Beijing: China Legal Publishing House, 2011. 327 p.Ayrapetov, O.R. On the Road to Collapse: The Russo-Japanese War 1904–1905. (Translated by Zhou Jian). Beijing: Social Sciences Academic Press, 2021. p. 538.“Yellow Russia” — a project of the Russian Empire for the development of the northeastern lands of Qing China, which was halted with the beginning of the Russo-Japanese War in 1904. — Translator’s note.Ayrapetov, O.R. On the Road to Collapse: The Russo-Japanese War 1904–1905. (Translated by Zhou Jian). Beijing: Social Sciences Academic Press, 2021. p. 76.Toward the Great Ocean, or the New Globalization of Russia. Analytical Report of the Valdai International Discussion Club. Moscow: Valdai, 2012. 81 p.Lukin, A.V. Turn to Asia. Russian Foreign Policy at the Turn of the Century and Its Activation in the Eastern Direction. Moscow: Ves Mir, 2014. 640 p.Mezhuyev, B.V. “‘Island Russia’ and Russian Identity Politics. The Unlearned Lessons of Vadim Tsymbursky.” In: Russia in Global Affairs, 2017, no. 2, pp. 116–130.Modern dictionaries indicate that the use of units with the root “aziat-” as abusive is outdated, and the set of negative traits attributed to Asians is now described, according to Sklyarevskaya’s dictionary, as “assigned mistakenly or without sufficient grounds.” See: Vepreva, I.T., Kun Weikan. “The Lexeme ‘Aziatchina’ as a Verbalization of the Stereotypical Attitude Toward Asia.” In: Political Linguistics, 2024, no. 2, p. 47. — Translator’s note.In Search of Its Own Path: Russia Between Europe and Asia. Moscow: Nauka, 1995. 580 p.Torkunov, A.V., Streltsov, D.V. “Russia’s Turn to the East Policy: Problems and Risks.” In: World Economy and International Relations, 2023, no. 4, pp. 5–16.SIPRI Yearbook 2023: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Stockholm: SIPRI, 2023. p. 151.

Diplomacy
Classification of the countries according to the world-system analysis of I. Wallerstein: core, semi-periphery and periphery.

Reflections on the modern world-system from a decolonial perspective

by Larissa Salas Duarte

Abstract This paper analyzes, from Immanuel Wallerstein's Analysis of the World – System, an introduction, the emergence of the modern world – system, the permanence of the colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system from a decolonial approach. It examines how the center – periphery structure has determined the economic, political and epistemic dynamics at the global level. Through this approach we study how coloniality has influenced the construction of knowledge. It also analyzes the impact of this structure on the recognition of States and the negotiation of international treaties, showing how Western power has conditioned the legitimacy and autonomy of peripheral nations. It also addresses the persistence of the center-periphery logic in local relations, as well as in gender and racial inequality, highlighting the role of anti-systemic movements in the struggle against these structures. It concludes that, although colonial dynamics continue to operate through debt, extractivism and the imposition of political models, decolonial perspectives offer tools to make visible and resist them. Introduction This paper will analyze the dynamics of the current international system based on the work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System” by Immanuel Wallerstein. In it, Wallerstein (2005) argues that the modern capitalist world-system has structured the global order since the 16th century, consolidating a hierarchical division between the center and the periphery. This division has not only shaped economic and political dynamics but has also established patterns of domination and dependency that persist to this day. The colonial expansion of European powers not only guaranteed access to resources and markets but also legitimized a system of exploitation based on racism and the hierarchization of colonized peoples. The decolonial perspective of Walter Mignolo (2013) will be adopted, which posits that this is a political and epistemic project aimed at dismantling the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity. From this framework, the article will analyze how colonial logic continues to operate in the capitalist world-system through the economic and political subordination of the peripheries. It will also examine the impact of the colonial worldview on knowledge production during the 18th and 19th centuries, as well as the reproduction of the center–periphery dynamic in the recognition of states during the 20th century and in the negotiation of international treaties during the 21st century. Likewise, it will address how this dynamic manifests not only internationally but also within local structures, perpetuating inequalities expressed in labor, gender, and racial relations today. This work seeks to provide a critical perspective on the persistence of colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system, emphasizing the need to rethink power structures from a decolonial perspective that makes visible and vindicates the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced. Development Colonial Logic in the Capitalist World-System In his work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System”, Wallerstein seeks to understand the structure and dynamics of the world-system, taking the 16th century as the starting point —a period when the conquests of the territories we now know as the Americas took place. The colonial period clearly illustrates the core–periphery dynamic (Wallerstein, 2005), as the Spanish, British, and Portuguese empires engaged in the extraction of resources from their colonies, while colonized peoples endured oppression and racism to which they would be condemned for centuries. This oppression brought significant benefits to the modern world-system, as it enabled massive capital accumulation — but exclusively in the core. This was because the colonial process built peripheral economies around the needs of the core, forcing them into subordination to the interests of the global market, generating dependency and underdevelopment. Quijano and Wallerstein (1992) argue that “[…] ethnicity was the inevitable cultural consequence of coloniality. It delineated the social boundaries corresponding to the division of labor” (p. 585). Due to the colonial period, the modern capitalist world-system laid its foundations and strengthened its market-based economic model through racism and hierarchization — circumstances that have legitimized the exploitation and domination of non-European peoples throughout history. Control over the resources of peripheral states by core states has endured to this day, along with the imposition of Western production and consumption models that perpetuate inequality. The colonial period’s greatest legacy remains systemic violence and subalternity. On this basis, it is important to analyze this work from a decolonial perspective. For Walter Mignolo (2013), “decoloniality is not a concept, but a practice and a political, epistemic, and ethical project aimed at disengaging from the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity” (p. 21). This perspective also draws on the notion of epistemic subalternity, which refers to the experiences and knowledge of colonized and subaltern peoples that are rendered invisible, devalued, or reduced to particular cases — without being considered an integral part of the world-system (Mora, 2008). Coloniality in the Construction of Knowledge At the end of the 18th century, the modern university emerged, dividing its studies into two faculties: sciences and humanities. In the 19th century, another division took place within the humanities, opening the space for the study of social sciences, which would later also be split — on one side, those leaning toward scientism, and on the other, toward the humanistic approach. This led to the creation of new disciplines: economics, political science, and sociology (Wallerstein, 2005). These new sciences built their worldview and knowledge construction from a Eurocentric and colonialist perspective, thus assigning labels to peoples different from their own. These new sciences categorized the study of the world’s peoples into three groups. First, civilized peoples — Western nations, considered as such because they believed their social and political organization systems were the most advanced. Second, the high civilizations — India, China, Persia, and the Arab world — classified in this way because they possessed writing, religion, language, and customs. They were regarded as civilized peoples but not modern, under the previously mentioned concept. This category gave rise to orientalist scholars, with a Eurocentric and exoticizing view. Finally, the so-called primitive peoples — those who, from the colonial perspective, lacked writing, religion, language, and customs. This perception of the “uncivilized other” was used to justify colonial processes in the periphery, which even today enable the reproduction of exploitative and racist practices. Segregation in the construction of knowledge, imbued with colonial and Eurocentric thought, is based on criticizing the behavior of these peoples and on what should be changed about them (Zapata, 2008). The Eurocentric conception asserts categorically that the modus vivendi of these peoples is not appropriate according to Western standards. Although this way of thinking has evolved over time, its essence remains the same and has led Western countries to grant themselves the power to change the way of life of these peoples through invasions, neocolonial processes, and violent interventions via military force or economic interference. The Center and the Periphery in the Recognition of States As previously mentioned, Europe established a correspondence between modernity and the West; this includes the institution of the nation-state as its derived product (Zapata, 2008). From the Eurocentric perspective, for civilizations to be considered nation-states, they must possess four characteristics: territory, population, government, and sovereignty. In Public International Law, sovereign states are the main subjects of international relations, and for a state to be recognized as such, it must be acknowledged by the majority of states that are part of the international system. The center–periphery concept operates both economically and politically, which can be observed when a new state seeks recognition from members of the international system. The recognition granted by a state from the center carries more weight than that from the periphery, since states in the center, with greater political and economic capacity, influence the decisions of their allies — both within the center and the periphery. This need for state recognition has been extremely beneficial for the modern capitalist world-system, as political and economic interdependence, along with the perpetuation of power in the countries of the center — particularly those belonging to the West — ensures that they act, whether in matters of state recognition, political agendas, or economic issues, entirely to their own advantage, disregarding the interests of “the other.” From a decolonial perspective, state recognition is a Western construct designed to maintain control over who meets the imposed criteria to belong to the Eurocentric international system. These criteria clearly do not align with the social organization of all non-Western civilizations but were conceived in such a way as to subordinate them to the needs of the world-system, which inevitably serves the interests of Western core states. This can be exemplified by the case of Taiwan. In 1971, the Kuomintang lost recognition from the government of mainland China, and starting in 1985, Taiwan’s government sought to strengthen diplomatic relations with states that already recognized it and to develop relations with those that did not, with the aim of obtaining their approval (Connelly, 2014). Despite the passage of time, recognition of Taiwan as a state by core countries seems inconvenient for them, likely due to the ongoing political dispute between Taiwan and China. As a result, only 14 peripheral states recognize it as such. Despite this, the Northeast Asian country maintains unofficial relations with 47 states and the European Union, for purely economic reasons. The Modern Capitalist World-System in International Treaties It is worth mentioning that the idea of the center–periphery permeates the negotiation of international agreements. As mentioned earlier, the so-called “primitive peoples” were civilizations that, from the Eurocentric perspective of knowledge, lacked writing, religion, languages, or customs. This idea persisted into the 20th century, as reflected in the Statute of the International Court of Justice, which in Chapter II, Article 38, states that “the Court, whose function is to decide in accordance with international law such disputes as are submitted to it, shall apply: […] the general principles of law recognized by civilized nations” (UN, 1945). The Eurocentric conception of a civilized nation in the postwar period was based on the type of government existing in each state. Thus, countries without a democratic political system were not considered civilized nations. This conception forced nations not to determine their own system of government, but rather to adhere to the one imposed by the Western international system in order to be accepted, disregarding their customs and traditions. A more current example of the imposition of Eurocentric ideas on systems of government is the signing of the Free Trade Agreement between the European Union and Mexico in 2000. Ratification of the trade agreement was conditioned on what they called the “democratic clause.” The agreement was not ratified by the Italian government until July 3 of that year, when the presidential elections resulted in the victory of Vicente Fox (Villegas, 2001). On the same day, the European Commission’s spokesperson, Gunnar Wiegand, said in his press release: “A historic vote has taken place in Mexico. The Commission congratulates the Mexican people for exercising their democratic rights in such a mature and exemplary manner” (Caracol Radio, 2000). The spokesperson’s mention of the Mexican people’s maturity refers to the notion that, in the past, the exercise of democracy had not possessed this quality — an observation made from a paternalistic and Eurocentric perspective. Had the election results been different, Mexico could have faced the possibility of the European Union “imposing sanctions as a reaction to the verification of interruptions in democratic processes, which, in addition to affecting development, constitute a threat to international peace and security” (Cordero Galdós, 2002, p. 128). The criticism of the imposition of the “democratic clause” centers on the recurring practice of requiring peripheral states to adapt to the political ideologies and economic needs of the core. The Reproduction of the Center–Periphery Dynamic at the Local Level As mentioned in the development of this work, the effects of colonialism persist across all systems and subsystems through the coloniality of power, knowledge, and being, the latter of which will be addressed later. This is manifested in global inequalities, the exploitation of natural resources in peripheral countries, and the persistence of racist and Eurocentric power structures. From Wallerstein’s perspective, the world-system is a historical structure which, although in constant transformation, reproduces power relations and inequalities over time through the domination of the core and the exploitation of the peripheries (Wallerstein, 2005). Thus, the world-system has evolved in several ways; one of these is the introduction of the term semi-periphery into the analysis. During the colonial period, there were only core and peripheral nations. Over the centuries, however, semi-peripheral states have emerged — nations that not only extract raw materials or engage in manufacturing but also have the capacity to produce cutting-edge technology (Wallerstein, 2005). This positions them in a more privileged place than peripheral countries in the international system. Yet, despite appearing to have overcome the systemic oppression that once kept them in the periphery, the colonial mindset within their institutions perpetuates their subordination to the core. Good examples of semi-peripheral states in Latin America are Mexico and Brazil. Both countries were victims of the exploitation and systemic violence of colonialism. This shaped the development of their societies and economies for centuries. Even after achieving independence and building productive and economic systems that placed them in the semi-periphery, their economic progress was built on a legacy of oppression and racism that continues to reproduce the abuses described. In this way, the concept of core and periphery permeates social and family subsystems. This can be observed in labor relations, where capitalists depend on the core–periphery or superior–subordinate relationship to sustain the production model. It is also evident in social relations, which Wallerstein refers to as anti-systemic movements. Society perpetuates the core–periphery principle by placing women and racialized communities in the periphery, while men — especially white men with power — occupy the core. Anti-systemic movements paved the way for the struggle against these inequalities, giving rise, for example, to feminist and Indigenous movements. These have led to the development of theoretical perspectives such as decolonial feminism, which adds analytical variables to the decolonial perspective. According to Yuderkys Espinosa, it emerges from “[…] a subaltern, non-hegemonic voice […] anti-colonial, anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist. […] Its aim is to question and oppose an imperial and racist rationale” (Barroso, 2014, p. 2). Conclusions The modern capitalist world-system has managed to sustain and expand itself thanks to colonial structures that, far from disappearing with decolonization processes, have mutated and perpetuated dynamics of domination and dependence. As discussed, the core–periphery logic has been key to the organization of the international system, not only in economic terms but also in the construction of knowledge, the legitimization of states, the negotiation of international agreements, and the imposition of political and social models from Western hegemony. The colonial legacy remains in the structural subordination of peripheral economies to the interests of the core, the imposition of international norms that favor core countries, and the persistence of racialized and gender-based inequalities within peripheral states themselves. This scheme has not only ensured capital accumulation in the core but has also limited the self-determination of historically colonized peoples, while normalizing their exclusion from political, economic, and epistemic spheres. At the international level, neocolonialism operates through mechanisms such as external debt, unequal trade agreements, and political interference in the internal affairs of peripheral states. In addition, extractivism and territorial dispossession continue to reproduce colonial logics, affecting both peripheral countries and Indigenous communities as well as other historically marginalized groups. In this sense, the modern capitalist world-system not only perpetuates economic exploitation but also reinforces power structures based on racism, sexism, and subalternity. However, as decolonial perspectives point out, the coloniality of power is not an immutable phenomenon. This approach questions the structures of power and knowledge inherited from colonization, seeking to deconstruct Eurocentric discourses and make visible the voices and experiences of the subaltern. Anti-systemic movements have sought to challenge these structures, reclaiming the agency of subaltern peoples and promoting the construction of alternatives that confront the colonial matrix of power. Particularly, decolonial feminism has emerged as a key critique of the intersection between patriarchy and coloniality, showing how women — especially racialized women — have been relegated to the periphery of the system. Thus, analyzing the world-system from a decolonial perspective allows us not only to understand the continuity of structures of domination but also to recognize the spaces of resistance and contestation that emerge within it. In conclusion, the decolonial perspective enables us to rethink the modern world-system from a critical standpoint, recognizing structural inequalities and the need to transform the power dynamics that perpetuate the domination of the core over the periphery. Decolonialism makes it possible to redefine notions of progress, development, and modernity from a perspective free from colonial stereotypes and hierarchies, recognizing the diversity of knowledge and worldviews of Indigenous peoples. It seeks to decentralize power by rethinking and decolonizing power relations between the core and the periphery, between the state and local communities, aiming for a more equitable distribution of resources and benefits. It is essential to make visible and vindicate the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced, promoting an epistemic and political shift that dismantles the foundations of this system and paves the way for fairer and more inclusive models. References Andrade, V. M. (diciembre, 2019). La Teoría Crítica y el pensamiento decolonial: hacia un proyecto emancipatorio post–occidental. Revista Mexicana de Ciencias Políticas y Sociales, 65(238). https://doi.org/10.22201/fcpys.2448492xe.2020.238.67363Barroso, M. (2014). Feminismo decolonial: crítica y propuesta. Revista Estudos Feministas, 22(1), 1–15.Caracol Radio. (3 de julio, 2000). Europa felicita a mexicano por votación ejemplar. Caracol Radio. https://caracol.com.co/radio/2000/07/03/nacional/0962604000_023535.htmlConnelly, M. (2014). Historia de Taiwán. El Colegio de México.Corderos Galdós, H. (agosto, 2002). La denominada cláusula democrática como modalidad de condicionamiento en los Programas de Ayuda al Desarrollo de la Unión Europea. Agenda Internacional, (16), 123–136. https://doi.org/10.18800/agenda.200201.007Donoso Miranda, P. V. (diciembre, 2014). Pensamiento decolonial en Walter Mignolo: América Latina: ¿transformación de la geopolítica del conocimiento? Temas de Nuestra América, 30(56), 45–56.Mignolo, W. D. (2013). Geopolítica de la sensibilidad y del conocimiento: Sobre (de)colonialidad, pensamiento fronterizo y desobediencia epistémica. Revista de Filosofía, 80(1), 7–23.Mora, M. (2008). Decolonizing politics: Zapatista indigenous autonomy in an era of neoliberal governance and low intensity warfare [Tesis doctoral, The University of Texas at Austin]. https://repositories.lib.utexas.edu/server/api/core/bitstreams/68ba681a-a78b-4ddd-9441-32a92b0edf5c/contentOrganización de las Naciones Unidas (1945). Estatuto de la Corte Internacional de Justicia. Carta de las Naciones Unidas.Portal Académico CCH (2017). Historia de México 1, Unidad 4, Intervenciones extranjeras: Inglaterra. Portal Académico CCH. https://e1.portalacademico.cch.unam.mx/alumno/historiademexico1/unidad4/intervencionesextranjeras/inglaterra#:~:text=Razones%20suficientes%20para%20reconocer%20a,poner%20freno%20al%20expansionismo%20estadounidense.Quijano, A., & Wallerstein, I. (1992). La americanidad como concepto, o América en el moderno sistema mundial. Revista Internacional de Ciencias Sociales, XLIV(4), 583–592.Rojas, V. M. (2010). Capítulo séptimo. El reconocimiento internacional. En Rojas, V. M. Derecho internacional público (pp. 61–65). Nostras Ediciones. https://archivos.juridicas.unam.mx/www/bjv/libros/7/3262/3.pdfRomero Losacco, J. (diciembre, 2020). El sistema-mundo más allá de 1492: modernidad, cristiandad y colonialidad: aproximación al giro historiográfico decolonial. Tabula Rasa, (36), 355–376. https://doi.org/10.25058/20112742.n36.14Ruiz, S. M. (mayo, 2019). La colonialidad y el sistema-mundo moderno colonial. Un diálogo entre Quijano y Wallerstein. Espirales, 3(1), 189–197.Villegas, F. G. (2001). México y la Unión Europea en el Sexenio de Zedillo. Foro Internacional, 41(166), 819–839.Wallerstein, I. (2005). Análisis de sistemas-mundo: una introducción. Siglo XXI.Zapata Silva, C. (2008). Edward Said y la otredad cultural. Atenea, (498), 55–73. http://dx.doi.org/10.4067/S0718-04622008000200005

Diplomacy
Flag of USA and China on a processor, CPU or GPU microchip on a motherboard. US companies have become the latest collateral damage in US - China tech war. US limits, restricts AI chips sales to China.

AI’s Great Power Paradox: Cooperation and Competition in the US-China Tech Rivalry

by Emmie Hine

As AI accelerates, the US and China shape the global governance landscape through parallel ambitions and contrasting ideologies. Understanding their policy trajectories reveals key inflection points for potential engagement. The United States and China are the world’s leading powers in artificial intelligence (AI)—and each has global ambitions. As AI development accelerates, so too do calls to regulate it responsibly. Both countries have the capacity to shape the future of AI governance. But understanding where cooperation might be possible requires understanding how each country’s approach has evolved. While their methods and ideologies differ, and their leadership aspirations often appear at odds, two underexamined forces—infrastructure and philosophy—may create unexpected space for mutual engagement. In the US, AI governance has long been shaped by the mythology of the free market. Under President Barack Obama, that mythology was tempered by calls for pipeline diversity. President Donald Trump discarded these in favour of rhetoric about “American values,” an ill-defined phrase deployed more as a competitive cudgel against China than a coherent policy vision. President Joe Biden attempted to resurrect some of Obama’s normative commitments—launching the Blueprint for an AI Bill of Rights, Executive Order 14110 on “safe, secure, and trustworthy AI,” and initiatives like the National AI Research Resource—but the foundations of his administration’s policies remained countering China’s influence through increased export controls and other measures. Trump’s second administration has once again changed focus away from equity and community-centredness, but the continued focus on competing with China and ensuring US “victory” in the “AI race” shows there’s more continuity than often assumed between different administrations’ AI approaches. China, for its part, has been more consistent in its governance strategy, even as it experiments at the margins. Its 2017 New Generation AI Development Plan cast AI as a pillar of national strength, and subsequent regulations on algorithms, deepfakes, generative AI, and facial recognition underscore a clear priority: balancing the “twin miracles” of economic development and social stability. Though early days of “fragmented authoritarianism” have given way to a more centralised approach with specific vertical laws, this logic remains embedded throughout the governance system. China is generally less explicit in its rhetoric than the US, with fewer exhortations about race dynamics and countering the US. In fact, it frequently invokes ideas of ethical pluralism and the language of international cooperation. This framing likely reflects a blend of genuine ideological positioning and diplomatic strategy, but it presents a challenge to US policymakers who continue to frame AI governance in moralising binaries. This is evident in two parallel AI Action Plans released in July 2025. The US released a guiding document—indicatively titled “Winning the Race: America’s AI Action Plan”—with an epigraph from President Trump stating: “As our global competitors race to exploit these technologies, it is a national security imperative for the United States to achieve and maintain unquestioned and unchallenged global technological dominance.” Though the Action Plan itself contains only three substantive references to China, it is built on the premise that global AI is an inherently competitive “race,” and China is clearly the US’s main competitor. A few days after the US AI Action Plan was released, China released its “Global AI Governance Action Plan.” It builds on the 2023 Global AI Governance Initiative, which seeks to portray China as a leader in the global pursuit of AI for the good of humanity and a “champion of the Global South.” The Global AI Governance Action Plan contains fewer specifics than the US AI Action Plan, but calls for “strengthening international cooperation on AI capacity building,” including supporting developing countries to design, implement, and govern AI. It also calls for building a global AI governance system through the UN and again shows the key balance of economic development and social stability: while it acknowledges the need to “jointly push for innovation breakthroughs,” it also advocates for strengthening “policy and regulatory coordination” and building an international AI safety governance framework. The US, on the other hand, is determined to cut “bureaucratic red tape and onerous regulation” while working primarily with its allies. However, recent events have called into question the feasibility of this approach. Notably, despite calls to increase export controls—and mobilise allies to do the same—the US announced shortly before the release of the AI Action Plan that it would again permit Nvidia to export H20 chips to China after previously restricting them. This was part of a trade deal in which China agreed to lighten restrictions on rare earth exports. Though seemingly counterintuitive, this deal reflects a fundamental reality of the modern AI ecosystem: the resources and supply chains enabling it are inextricably intertwined. China mines roughly 70 percent and processes 90 percent of rare earth minerals. US-based Nvidia has 92 percent of the GPU market. Both of these are critical for progress in AI. Both countries are attempting infrastructure decoupling, but the US may have to compromise on its fundamentalism to maintain access to the critical resources it needs. Meanwhile, its advanced chip dominance in turn provides leverage over China. Will this lead to broader cooperation? Geopolitical issues are likely too entrenched for each country to join hands and promote harmonious global AI governance. However, each country’s primary goal is the same: to benefit the “people.” China is claiming that its definition of “the people” is the global community—though this comes with the noted exclusion of domestic critics, including the Uighurs of Xinjiang, who are subject to AI-enabled surveillance and detention. The US’s definition of “the people” has changed from administration to administration, but currently seems to include the American people and potentially allied nations. It’s doubtful that the current administration will agree to substantive global AI governance discussions. But through its Action Plan, China has thrown down the gauntlet—engage with global AI governance or be an obstructionist. What the US will choose remains to be seen. Emmie Hine is a Research Associate at the Yale Digital Ethics Center and a PhD candidate in Law, Science, and Technology at the University of Bologna and KU Leuven. She researches the ethics and governance of emerging technologies, including AI. You can also find her byline in her weekly tech-focused newsletter, the Ethical Reckoner. Emmie holds degrees from Williams College and the University of Oxford, and previously worked as a software engineer. She’s on Bluesky here and X here. This article is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.

Diplomacy
US dollar and Chinese yuan on the map of Brazil. Economic competition between the China and USA in Latin America countries

China Advances and the US Retreats in Latin America and the Caribbean

by Hyeran Jo , Nathalie Mendez

The BRICS meeting in Rio on July 6th and 7th gives a snapshot of the great power competition between China and the United States in different regions around the world, including Latin America. China has become the largest trading partner for many countries in Latin America, investing heavily in infrastructure and forging political alliances that further its strategic objectives. For its part, the Trump Administration of the United States issued the statement that those participating countries will face increased tariffs. The statement was the continuation of exercise and assertion of its authority for the past and present century. The positioning of various BRICS members and participating countries is particularly telling of what the great power competition means in the region and also globally. Brazil’s Lula hosted the meeting aiming to showcase its foreign policy leadership, not necessarily antagonizing the West. Russia is still going through the war in Ukraine, and Putin attended only online. India’s Modi was present as well as Ramaphosa from South Africa. No show of Xi Jinping was notable, although Premier Li Qiang was attending. Besides the BRICS core, other countries also showed promotion of their interests. Iran, for one, joined the group in 2024 and sent a ministerial level delegation to rebuke recent strikes on Iran. As the United States appears to be pulling back from its traditional leadership role in the world, China is seizing the opportunity to expand its influence and reshape global dynamics. Through a combination of state-driven development policies and active international engagement, Beijing has positioned itself as a major player in the Global South, extending its reach beyond Asia to regions such as Africa and Latin America. China’s increasing presence in the region has been mainly driven by the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) and a surge in trade volumes, marking a major shift in the region’s economic landscape. Many experts point to China’s use of “infrastructure diplomacy”—financing ambitious, strategic infrastructure projects across the region—as a key factor in this rise. The numbers tell a compelling story. Trade data from the World Bank (Figure 1) shows that in the past ten years, China has overtaken the United States as the leading trading partner for much of the region, upending a dynamic that had held steady since the early 2000s. Beyond trade, China’s influence deepens through the 22 countries in Latin America and the Caribbean that have joined the Belt and Road Initiative. Chinese loans have poured in, funding major energy, infrastructure, and development projects that have reshaped local economies. China’s push isn’t just economic—it’s political too. Beijing has taken steps to strengthen cultural ties, increase academic exchanges and boost tourism in Latin America, including waiving visa requirements for travelers from some countries. This multi-faceted approach highlights China’s pragmatic mix of economic self-interest and strategic diplomacy as it works to secure resources, expand markets, and bolster its global standing. On the other hand, the United States has long been a strategic ally and key trading partner for Latin America. Agencies like USAID have funneled millions of dollars into economic and military initiatives across the region. With the recent changes in the aid policy, immigration policy, and tariff policy, Washington’s recalibration of its foreign policy are transforming the geopolitical balance in Latin America and the Caribbean. As both powers deploy their strategies — from deepening economic ties to defending national interests — the decisions of Latin American states remain critical in shaping their alignments with global powers. The ultimate outcome is still up in the air, but one thing is clear: power in the region is actively being renegotiated. The diverging approaches from China and the US have set the stage for a broader reconfiguration of power in Latin America and the Caribbean. Yet, it’s essential to recognize that each country’s internal decisions and policies also play a critical role in shaping this shifting landscape. Colombia provides a case in point. Historically, it has maintained close diplomatic ties with the United States while keeping China at arm’s length. Unlike countries like Brazil, Argentina, and Peru, Colombia has received relatively little Chinese infrastructure investment. However, with the election of president Gustavo Petro—the first left-wing president in the country’s history—Colombia has taken decisive steps to strengthen its relationship with China, presenting new challenges for the United States to maintain its strategic foothold in the country. We observe – both on political and economic dimensions – that the changes in China’s strategy, coupled with Colombia’s domestic policies, have reduced the country’s dependence on the US while increasing its desire to integrate with China. Politically, Colombia and the United States have long enjoyed a strong diplomatic relationship, as reflected in their shared memberships in international organizations, high-level dialogues, and multiple bilateral agreements. However, diplomatic tensions have emerged in recent years. Disputes between the two leaders, the change of course of USAID, and a significant drop in new bilateral agreements over the past four years have contributed to a shift in this traditionally stable partnership. Against this backdrop, diplomatic ties between China and Colombia have strengthened. In 2023 alone, both countries signed 12 cooperation agreements in trade, technology, and economic development, upgraded their relationship to a strategic partnership, and Colombia’s entry into the Belt and Road Initiative during recent China – CELAC Forum in May. Colombia also joined the BRICS New Development Bank a few weeks after that Forum. Economically, the US has traditionally been Colombia’s largest trading partner, backed by a free trade agreement and significant investment. Yet, in recent years, the share of US trade has steadily declined, while China’s footprint has grown (see figure 1). Although there’s no formal trade agreement, ties have strengthened during the current administration, including the opening of a Buenaventura-Shanghai trade route in 2025. Additionally, China’s “infrastructural diplomacy” has significantly grown: over 100 Chinese companies now operate in Colombia, and major infrastructure projects like Bogotá’s Metro Line 1 and the Regiotram are underway, along with investments in mobility, technology, and health. Latin America, and Colombia in particular, finds itself at the center of a geopolitical tug-of-war with China’s calculated investments and the US’s shifting policies. While Beijing leverages trade, infrastructure, and cultural diplomacy to expand its influence, Washington’s recalibration of its foreign policy leaves room for new alliances and opportunities. Our analysis shows that power reconfiguration is not merely a product of external rivalry. It is driven by the choices each Latin American nation makes. As Colombia’s case demonstrates, the region’s destiny hinges not just on global superpowers, but on its own internal political decisions and developments. The coming years will test how Latin America navigates these shifting currents. Disclaimer This article was made possible in part by a grant from the Carnegie Corporation of New York (G-PS-24-62004, Small State Statecraft and Realignment). The statements made and views expressed are solely the responsibility of the authors. Figure 1: China vs. US Import and Export TrendsDrawn by the authors using data from the World Bank.  

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

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

by Scott Lucas

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

Diplomacy
The symbolic image of the border between the United States and Mexico, with the unfinished wall of the bank packages of dollars US.

Diplomacy in times of uncertainty: Mexico’s foreign policy in the face of the unpredictability of the Trump administration

by Isaac Flores Delgado

Over time, the bilateral relationship between Mexico and the United States has gone through multiple stages and transitions, reflecting both moments of collaboration and episodes of deep antagonism. At certain points, both countries have succeeded in consolidating frameworks of cooperation in specific areas, such as the peaceful resolution of the El Chamizal territorial dispute in 1967 or the promotion of academic exchange through the Fulbright-García Robles Scholarship Program. However, this interaction has also been marked by significant conflicts, most notably the war of 1846–1848. This confrontation, whose outcome was unfavorable for Mexico, culminated in the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, through which the country was forced to cede more than half of its territory. This episode left a deep imprint on Mexico's collective memory. The shared history thus reveals a complex and constantly evolving dynamic. The geographical proximity between Mexico and the United States, with a land border exceeding 3,000 kilometers, requires both governments to adjust their priorities to respond to shared challenges in areas such as security, trade, investment, migration, and other strategic issues. This border condition generates a constant bilateral dynamic, in which national priorities must be harmonized with bilateral and regional interests. From a theoretical perspective inspired by Robert Keohane and Joseph Nye, Dr. Rafael Velázquez Flores argues that this relationship is configured as an asymmetric and multifaceted interdependence. Within this framework, Mexico seeks to expand its decision-making capacity in an environment characterized by structural power imbalances. For his part, Dr. Jorge Schiavon contends that the bilateral agenda operates within a logic of complex interdependence, in which the dense network of institutions and the multiple economic, social, and political ties restrict the ability of either country to act unilaterally. One of the most evident manifestations of the interdependence that characterizes the North American region was the signing of NAFTA in 1992, which came into effect two years later and was transformed into the USMCA in 2018 following a deep renegotiation process. This economic integration mechanism, though less ambitious than the European Union’s model, has strengthened trade and production ties in the region, generating reciprocal benefits. On one hand, U.S. companies have consolidated preferential access to inputs from Mexico, which has boosted key sectors such as automotive, electronics, and agribusiness. Through stricter rules of origin, the agreement has encouraged greater domestic production of components within the United States, protecting industries in strategic states such as Michigan, Texas, and Ohio. In this context, Mexico became the United States’ main trading partner in 2023, with imports valued at $475 billion, surpassing both China and Canada. On the other hand, Mexico regards the United States as its main trading partner, which as of April 2025 accounted for over 80% of its exports and more than 40% of its total imports. The preferential access established by the USMCA has enabled the Mexican economy to position itself as a strategic supplier of goods and services to the U.S. economy, with particular significance in sectors such as automotive, electronics, manufacturing, and agribusiness. The stricter provisions on rules of origin in the automotive sector have encouraged deeper regional integration, leading plants located in Mexico to expand their role in component production and assembly processes. Although the automotive sector captures a large share of the benefits, other industries have also experienced significant growth. As a result, Mexico has become the United States’ main agricultural supplier and has strengthened its presence in sectors such as pharmaceuticals, chemicals, and capital goods, including machinery, electrical equipment, and computing devices.     As shown in Table 1, the United States and Canada occupy the top two positions as destinations for Mexican exports. Based on data from April 2025, the U.S. market imported nearly $45 billion worth of goods from Mexico. Regarding Mexican imports during the same period, the United States ranked first as Mexico’s main trading partner, exceeding $21 billion, with China in second place at just over $10 billion. In this context, it is worth noting that, as shown in Table 2, Canada ranked 10th as a source of Mexican imports. This scenario highlights that the economic integration between Mexico and the United States goes beyond the exchange of goods: both countries have built an integrated and highly specialized production network that generates millions of jobs while fostering growth in the North American region.     On the issue of migration, Mexico and the United States maintain a deep interdependence that permeates the bilateral agenda not only in socioeconomic matters but also in security-related issues. In 2023, approximately 10.6 million Mexican-born immigrants were legally residing in the United States, representing 23% of the total foreign-born immigrant population. At the same time, according to the Pew Research Center, around 4 million Mexicans were living without legal status — down from a peak of 6.9 million in 2007. Thus, the Mexican presence in the U.S. continues to have a dual impact: it contributes labor and demographic stability to the American economy while also generating a steady flow of remittances and transnational ties that support regional development in Mexico and strengthen binational relations. In fact, the Bank of Mexico estimated that remittances sent from the United States to Mexico exceeded $62 billion in 2024 — far surpassing Mexican exports of petroleum products, which amounted to approximately $30 billion that same year. In the current scenario of complex interdependence between Mexico and the United States, the re-election of Donald Trump has introduced a climate of tension that has weakened traditional channels of bilateral dialogue and cooperation. The Republican administration has replaced structured diplomacy with a rhetoric characterized by threats, misperceptions, and a widespread atmosphere of uncertainty. Although President Trump’s confrontational strategy is not limited to Mexico — as it stems from the narrative that the international community has excessively and asymmetrically taken advantage of its relationship with Washington — his administration has intensified the portrayal of Mexico as a key factor behind various domestic grievances in the United States. Irregular migration, drug trafficking, and the trade imbalance have become recurring issues through which the White House channels internal demands, reinforcing a narrative of confrontation. This dynamic undermines the institutional mechanisms of bilateral understanding and places at risk the progress made in economic cooperation, security, and cross-border governance. Since the beginning of his second term, President Trump has implemented a series of unilateral actions that intensify his restrictive immigration agenda. On the very day of his inauguration, he declared a national emergency at the southern border and signed multiple executive orders that eliminated access to asylum, suspended the refugee resettlement program, and reinstated the “Remain in Mexico” policy. He also delegated border control functions to the Department of Defense and authorized the deployment of the military and National Guard to perform tasks traditionally carried out by civilian agencies. Through the 1798 Alien Enemies Act, he ordered expedited deportations, including those targeting unaccompanied minors. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has carried out mass raids, even in sanctuary cities, schools, and hospitals. This institutional offensive has intensified the criminalization of undocumented individuals, while the use of military forces in urban areas has undermined legal certainty and created an atmosphere of insecurity that fractures social cohesion and amplifies collective fear. In the commercial sphere, President Donald Trump has promoted executive orders imposing tariffs on Mexican exports of steel, aluminum, and automobiles, justifying such measures with arguments related to the trade deficit, irregular migration flows, and efforts to combat fentanyl trafficking. Although his administration has temporarily suspended some duties on products covered by the USMCA, these unilateral decisions have heightened uncertainty in the bilateral relationship by contradicting commitments made under the agreement. Constant threats to expand tariffs to goods not included in the treaty, along with the use of extraordinary powers to impose trade restrictions, have eroded the climate of trust between the productive sectors of both countries. In response, the Mexican government has pursued diplomatic actions and dialogue mechanisms aimed at ensuring the proper implementation of the USMCA and establishing safeguards to reduce the risks posed by protectionist measures that affect the stability and predictability of regional trade. In the current context, President Trump has disregarded the strategic importance of the United States’ historic allies and trade partners by adopting measures that have eroded trust not only with Mexico but also with other key partners such as Canada and the European Union. This situation has confronted the Mexican government with a complex challenge: preserving the stability of its most important economic relationship while also maintaining a strong consular protection policy. To this end, Mexico operates one of the world’s largest consular networks, with 53 consulates distributed throughout U.S. territory. The work of the Mexican Foreign Service is essential in this scenario, as it strengthens diplomatic dialogue and underscores to Washington that Mexico shares democratic and economic values with the United States. Recognizing mutual interdependence is vital: the prosperity and stability of both countries are intertwined, and a strong bilateral relationship is a key component of sustained economic growth in North America as a whole. Although it is uncertain what future decisions President Trump may make, the Mexican government must prioritize dialogue and political coordination as underlying strategies of its foreign policy, avoiding any confrontational maneuvers, as these only undermine the bilateral relationship. President Claudia Sheinbaum’s administration faces the critical task of accurately identifying the priorities of the U.S. government to act proactively with clarity and consistency. Mexico cannot allow its foreign policy to be reduced to merely reacting to unilateral initiatives marked by aggressive rhetoric and uncertainty. In this context, the Mexican Foreign Service must firmly exercise its well-established negotiating capacity to consolidate Mexico’s position as a reliable neighbor and a key actor in the regional economic structure. The bilateral relationship must clearly convey that the prosperity of the United States is closely linked to Mexico’s stability and growth — an interest grounded in a shared logic of structural interdependence.

Diplomacy
Beautiful national state flags of Afghanistan and Taliban together at the sky background. International relations 3D artwork concept.

Four Years On: An Appraisal of the Taliban’s Return

by Grant Farr

In August 2021 the world watched as thousands of people, both Americans and Afghans, crowded onto airplanes at the Kabul airport to escape the return of the Taliban. By the end of August 2021, the United States had evacuated over 200,000 people. On August 15, 2021, Afghan president Ashraf Ghani fled the country, and the Taliban seized control of Kabul calling themselves the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan. The collapse of the Islamic Republic was predicated on the United States-Taliban deal that was signed in February of 2020. Most people assumed the Taliban would be unable to govern Afghanistan and that their government would not last. After all they were rural tribal people with a fundamental belief in a primitive version of Islam, and their control of Afghanistan from 1996 to 2001 was in many ways a disaster. But, the Taliban have now led the country for four years, with no end in sight. Arguing that they are following basic Islamic law regarding the proper place for women in society, the Taliban have severely restricted the rights of women, restrictions more severe than in any other Islamic country. The treatment of women is the major reason the Taliban has not been recognized as the legitimate government of Afghanistan by many nations (Drury, 2025). The Taliban have also been denied a seat in the United Nations, again largely because of their treatment of women (Lederer, 2025). Recently the International Criminal Court has issued arrest warrants for two Taliban leaders, Haibatullah Akhundzada, the supreme leader of Afghanistan, and Abdul Hakim Haqqani, the chief Justice in the Afghan supreme court, for their treatment of women and girls in Afghanistan (Ayre, 2025). Not only are women not allowed to attend school beyond six grade, but they are not allowed to travel outside of their homes without a male companion. Women traveling outside the home must wear a veil that covers their full body. The Gender Inequality Index, a metric developed by the United Nations Development Program as a composite measure of a women’s place in society, is based on three dimensions: reproductive health, empowerment, and labor market participation. It ranks Afghanistan one of the lowest the world in terms of the treatment of women in government, education, health and political participation (UNDP, Gender Inequality Index, 2025). Gender based violence has also increased. Afghan women experience a high rate of harassment when they leave their homes. Incidents of stoning and verbal harassment have been widely reported. This harassment and abuse is condoned by the Taliban’s Ministry for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, a Taliban government agency that, among other things, dictates where women can go or not go, what women must wear, and how they must behave. Women who do not follow the rules of this Ministry are chastised, harassed, and often beaten. When women are arrested, they often face verbal abuse and torture (Ahmadi, 2023). Afghan women also often have no say in who they marry and many of these forced marriages are a result of poverty which drives fathers to marry off their daughters, often at a young age (Nariman, 2025). There are very few female doctors or nurses in Afghanistan. Because men are prohibited from treating women, let alone seeing them without their veil, women are often unable to access basic medical services. Maternal mortality rates are high compared to other countries. With poor medical help available for pregnant women, it is estimated that approximately 24 women die each day in Afghanistan due to pregnancy related causes. Most of these deaths are the results of complications during childbirth (Gluck, 2023). Because of the lack of medical support, the infant mortality rate for Afghanistan is 62 deaths per 100,000 live births, one of the highest in the world (CIA, 2024). Afghanistan has always been a poor country with high levels of poverty. Since the Taliban takeover poverty has drastically increased, particularly in the rural areas. It is estimated that over 90 percent of the population of Afghanistan is facing poverty and food insecurity (Programme W. F., 2024). The United Nations Development Project estimates that approximately 85 percent of the Afghan population live on less than one dollar per day (UNDP, 2024). The increase in poverty is in part because donors who had previously supported Afghanistan have halted their support. By 2025, Afghanistan had lost about 26 percent of its gross domestic product as many of these international development projects closed, pushing many Afghans out of work and into poverty (Smith, 2024). With the return of President Trump in 2025, the United States stopped all aid to Afghanistan, worsening the situation. Food scarcity falls most heavily on girls, as poor families make the hard choice of feeding boys before the girls. The mortality rate among girls is 90 percent higher than among boys (Bank, 2023). The increasing level of poverty is exacerbated by the large number of Afghan refugees who are being forcefully repatriated from the countries where they had sought exile, mostly from Pakistan and Iran, but also in some cases from European countries and other countries where they sought refuge. The United Nations High Commission for Refugees estimates that over 96,000 Afghans were forcefully deported back to Afghanistan in April of this year alone, and that over 3.4 million Afghan refugees have been deported from Iran and Pakistan since 2023 (UNHCR, 2025). Most of these returning refugees have no home or job to return to. Although the UNHCR sometimes gives returning refugees a small amount of money as they return, most return to poverty and in many cases without homes. These returning refugees most often settle in areas around major cities, especially Kabul, Kandahar, and Herat, creating a large population of unemployed and impoverished families. The returning refugee problem has been exacerbated by the decision by Iran to expel all Afghans. This is apparently a result of the growing Iranian conflict with Israel (Haqiqatyar, 2025). It is not clear why Iran is expelling Afghans, many of whom had been in Iran for decades. It has been suggested that Iran felt that the Afghan’s were sympathetic to Israel and/or the United States and were acting as spies, although there is no evidence of this. It is estimated that over 6 million Afghans had been living in Iran. The United Nations High Commission of Refugees reports that this year over 1.4 million Afghans have returned from Iran (UNHCR, 2025). Many former Afghan government officials have fled Afghanistan or have been killed as political dissent is not allowed and political parties or ideologies that do not support the Taliban are forbidden. Those who have stayed have largely been quiet. The media is controlled by the Ministry of Information and Culture. This includes the control of newspapers, radio, and television. Most reporters and journalists have fled and female journalists are not allowed (Mercier, 2025). Although there is some opposition to the Taliban government, especially by the National Resistance Front, they have accomplished little and do not pose a serious threat to the Taliban (Bowes, 2024). Other groups such as al-Qaeda and the Islamic State, while present in Afghanistan do not pose a serious threat to the Taliban. These shifts have resulted in a marked drop in fighting, which has brought a form of security to the country. Even though the US travel advisory for Afghanistan remains at ‘level four: do not travel’, in fact tourism, although limited, is beginning. The Taliban government encourages tourism because it brings in much needed foreign currency. The Afghan Ministry of Information and Culture, which oversees tourism, reports that there are at least 350 tourism companies operating in Afghanistan (Lateef, 2025). Humanitarian agencies working in rural areas report that it is now possible to travel into remote areas of Afghanistan, areas that were previously either too dangerous to travel to or too remote. This is in part because the Taliban have embraced the Afghan rural population, and while there still areas that may be dangerous to travel to, much of the anti-government sentiment in the rural area is gone (Smith, 2024). Travel outside of Kabul has also improved as roadblocks have been dismantled, bridges repaired, and roads repaved. While there have been reports of petty corruption at the local level in Afghanistan, corruption under Taliban rule has dramatically reduced. Pre 2021, numerous Afghan government officials, as well as American contractors, made fortunes by funnelling off billions of dollars earmarked for public projects. The corruption took place at all levels so that anything one wanted to do involved a bribe. Corruption was especially found in customs and border checkpoints. It is estimated that during the Republic over 1.4 billion dollars were illegally collected at border checkpoints annually (SIGAR, 2016). Much of this corruption has been eliminated under Taliban rule. Finally, before the Taliban takeover, Afghanistan was the world’s top producer of opium which is used to make Heroin. The Taliban imposed a ban on growing opium in the spring of 2022, with the exception that farmers were allowed to harvest their standing crop. It is estimated that in 2024 about 12,800 hectares of poppies were grown, down from before the ban when farmers planted over 233,000 hectares (Mishra, 2024). However, largely because of economic difficulties, farmers are beginning to grow opium again, even if it is forbidden by the government in Kabul (Mishra, 2024). In sum, despite dire predictions of many the Tailban have managed to stay in power for four years and now seem to exercise firm control of Afghanistan. As explored in this article, they have apparently done some things well and some things poorly – and the international community should expect to see Taliban rule as a fixture in Afghanistan’s near term future. Works CitedAhmadi, B. (2023, December 7). How the Taliban Enable Violence Against women. Retrieved from United States Institute of Peace: https://www.usip.org/publications/2023/12/how-taliban-enables-violence-against-womenAyre, M. (2025, July 8). France24. Retrieved from ICC issues arrest warrant for Taliban leaders over persecution of Afghan women: https://www.france24.com/en/asia-pacific/20250708-icc-issues-arrest-warrants-for-taliban-leaders-over-persecution-of-afghan-womenCIA. (2024). Infant Mortality Rate. Retrieved from World Factbook: https://www.cia.gov/the-world-factbook/field/infant-mortality-rate/Committee, I. R. (2022, December 22). Afghanistan: An entire [opulation pushed into poverty. Retrieved from International Rescue Committee: https://www.rescue.org/article/afghanistan-entire-population-pushed-poverty#:~:text=Humanitarian%20risks%20in%202023,rationing%20and%20other%20coping%20strategies.Committee, I. r. (2023, August 22). Afghanistan: An entire population pushed into Poverty. Retrieved from International Rescue Committee: https://www.rescue.org/article/afghanistan-entire-population-pushed-povertyDrury, F. a. (2025, July 3). Russia becomes first state to recognize Afghanistan’s Taliban government. Retrieved from BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c78n4wely9doFact, W. (n.d.).Glass, N. (2023, June 22). the Crisis of Maternal and Child Health in Afghanistan. Retrieved from Conflict and Health Biomedcentral: https://conflictandhealth.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s13031-023-00522-zGluck, C. (2023, October 25). Midwifery programme Takles Afghansitan’s High Maternal and Infant Mortality Rates. Retrieved from UNHCR: https://www.unhcr.org/us/news/stories/midwifery-programme-tackles-afghanistan-s-high-maternal-and-infant-mortality-rates#:~:text=Afghanistan%20has%20one%20of%20the,day%20in%20childbirth%20or%20pregnancy.Haqiqatyar, H. a. (2025, July 7). They threw us out like garbage. The Guardian.Intelligence, C. (n.d.).Lateef, S. (2025, July 8). Afghans invite US tourists to visit four years on the fall of Kabul. Retrieved from The Telegraph: https://www.yahoo.com/news/afghans-invite-us-tourists-visit-113907380.htmlLederer, E. (2025, July 7). UN Adopts resolution on Afghansistan’s Taliban rule. Retrieved from ABC News: https://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory/adopts-resolution-afghanistans-taliban-rule-us-objections-123552000Mackintosh, T. (2024, May 17). Three Spanish tourists killedin central Afghanistan gun attack. Retrieved from BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c9wzvlz40wpoMercier, C. (2025, Febuary 2). Afghanistan: the disturbing, escalating censorship suffocating the freee press. Retrieved from Reporters without Borders: https://rsf.org/en/country/afghanistanNariman, A. (2025, June). Taliban Bride. Retrieved from aeon: https://www.amnesty.org/en/location/asia-and-the-pacific/south-asia/afghanistan/report-afghanistan/Program, U. N. (n.d.).Programme, U. N. (2025). Gender Inequality Index. Retrieved from United Nations Development Programme.Sleiman, K. (2023, March 16). Afghanistan: Journalist Hosein Naderi killed in bombing of press event. Retrieved from International Press Institute: https://ipi.media/afghanistan-journalist-hosein-naderi-killed-in-bombing-of-press-event/Smith, G. (2024, August 14). Afghanistan Three Years after Taliban Takeover. Retrieved from International Crisis Group: https://www.crisisgroup.org/asia/south-asia/afghanistan/afghanistan-three-years-after-taliban-takeoverSmith, G. (2024, August 14). Afghanistan three Years after theTaliban takeover. Retrieved from International Crisis Group: https://www.crisisgroup.org/asia/south-asia/afghanistan/afghanistan-three-years-after-taliban-takeoverUNDP. (2024, January 10). Approximately 85 percent of Afghans live onless than one dollar a day. Retrieved from United Nations Development Project: https://www.undp.org/stories/approximately-85-percent-afghans-live-less-one-dollar-day#:~:text=Afghans%20are%20dealing%20with%20extreme,from%20education%20and%20most%20jobsUNDP. (2025, May 6). Gender Inequality Index. Retrieved from Gender Inequality Index: https://hdr.undp.org/data-center/thematic-composite-indices/gender-inequality-index#/indicies/GIIUNHCR. (2025, June 28). UNHCR sees sharp increase in adverse circumstances from Iran to Afghanistan. Retrieved from UNHCR: https://www.unhcr.org/us/news/press-releases/unhcr-sees-sharp-increase-afghan-returns-adverse-circumstances-iran-afghanistan

Diplomacy
waving colorful flag of european union and flag of canada on a euro money banknotes background. finance concept. macro

The Europe–Canada Schicksalsgemeinschaft: Transatlantic interdependency in the new North Atlantic triangle

by Christian Leuprecht

Abstract Buffeted by the headwinds of US unilateralism, Europeans and Canadians are bound together in a community of fate. As the US departs the field, Europe and Canada need to cooperate more. To avoid being abandoned, they need to avail themselves of Atlanticist power for mutual benefit. Rather than merely protecting a liberal–democratic zone of peace across the Western hemisphere, Europe and Canada need to project the power of the transatlantic security community to deter Russia from using war to precipitate a multipolar world order in which it becomes a global player. This article draws on the metaphor of transatlantic relations as a triangle: with the US, Europe and Canada at its angles. Canada is in an existentially precarious position: a more autonomous Europe would make Canada even more dependent on the American hegemon, which would heighten Canada’s risk of being absorbed by the US. Although that outcome is not in Europe’s interest, Europe and Canada have been disengaging for decades. Reversing this trajectory would come at a significant military cost but would be a political gain that would be difficult to measure, resulting in cooperation on energy security, critical minerals, defence and defence in depth. Yet, to achieve this strategic counterbalance, Europe and Canada need to protect abiding security and political interests: to keep the US in Europe and to keep the Russians out. KeywordsCanada, Europe, EU, Euro-Atlantic community, US, NATO, Energy security, Defence, Defence in depth, Transatlantic relations, Structural realism Introduction ‘Europe and Canada are trusted friends and partners. Today this relationship is more critical than ever. I look forward to working with you to defend democracy, free and fair trade, and our shared values’ (von der Leyen 2025). The words of the president of the European Commission, on the swearing in of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, identify Europe’s common priorities with the ‘most European of non-European countries’. The words reinforce a reinvigorated Schicksalsgemeinschaft, a German term that denotes a community with a common fate. After decades of distraction by ‘Asia-Pacific’ imaginaries, Europe and Canada are rediscovering the inevitability of their common fate, in the Euro-Atlantic community. Traditionally, the North Atlantic triangle has comprised an Atlanticist Anglosphere: the UK, the US and Canada. This article instead draws on an age-old metaphor coined by celebrated Canadian historian John Bartlet Brebner (1966): a North Atlantic triangle that reflects transatlantic strategic and political cultures. The angles of this triangle consist of the US, Canada and Europe writ large, as manifest in but not limited to the EU. Europe and Canada share a common strategic fate that makes them interdependent. Both stand to benefit from cultivating their relationship, while both stand to lose should Canada become even more dependent on the US. Canada’s strategic amnesia is manifest in its having forgotten the lesson of leveraging Europe to hedge against the uncertainties of US unilateralism. This is reminiscent of what Brebner called the ‘bookkeeper’s puzzle’: how can Canada best manage relations with both the UK and the US so as (a) to be able to invoke the assistance of the former against the latter’s political (and perhaps military) pressure, while at same time (b) ensuring that the British desire for an Anglo-American rapprochement does not result in any ‘sacrifice’ of Canadian interests? Historically, Canada had managed relations with the easternmost angle of the triangle, the UK, to assure its assistance against political (and possibly existential military) pressure from the US. At the same time, in the interests of its sovereignty, Canada wanted to ensure that any rapprochement with the UK would not end up sacrificing Canadian interests. An offshoot of the bookkeeper’s puzzle applies to attempts by Canada to involve its allies from NATO in an expanded triangle to counterbalance the US politically and economically (Haglund 2025). The bookkeeper’s puzzle thus reflects a real fear of abandonment: in Canada of being abandoned by Europe, and in Europe of being abandoned by the US. The key to the puzzle is for Canada and Europe to retrench and harness their interdependence. But that is easier said than done, due in part to free trade with the US, which has reinforced the shift of Canada’s organisational focus from east–west to north–south. The new North Atlantic triangle Since the founding of NATO in 1949, European countries and Canada have come to depend disproportionately on the world’s largest defence and intelligence complex for their security and have had the world’s largest economy as their primary trading partner. The US shored up its Atlantic and Pacific rims by design: a favourable trading relationship with the US allowed Europe to prosper, while the US guaranteed and underwrote Europe’s security against the Soviet threat. With the end of the Cold War, however, European allies opted to reduce their defence posture significantly. By contrast, since the end of the Cold War, the US has invested US$500 billion per year more than Europe in defence (at today’s prices)—which comes to almost US$20 trillion more than Europe over 35 years. This explains why Europe depends on US capability—especially in cyber, space and intelligence. The US feels that this came at its expense: 64% of European defence is still underwritten by the US (NATO 2025), up from 52% over the past decade, nothingstanding NATO members’ 2014 Wales summit pledge to spend more on defence. Why are 340 million Americans defending 450 million Europeans? Moreover, the US perceives those allies as benefiting from asymmetric trade relations, which the Trump administration considers to be to the detriment of the US. That is, European allies have failed to heed the first purpose of NATO which, in the infamous words of its first secretary general, Lord Ismay, is ‘to keep the Americans in Europe’ (Rodman 1995). To keep ‘the Russians out’ of Europe is the second purpose Lord Ismay sets out for NATO (Rodman 1995). In line with Article 5 of NATO’s founding charter (North Atlantic Treaty 1949, art. 5), allies rely on the US as the guarantor to deter Russia from its ambition of becoming a global player in a multipolar world order, which Russia is prepared to bring about by force. France and the UK notwithstanding, only the US has the nuclear triad and second-strike capability to ensure credible extended nuclear deterrence. However, two world wars and the Cold War have shown that Europe needs Canada for defence in depth. The usual connotation of this military strategy is to contain a bad actor that has breached a layer of defence by providing a second layer of defence. In this case, it refers to Canadian territory as being a safe and like-minded industrial hinterland for resources and an industrial base for Europe to rely on in times of war, as it did during the world wars. During these, Canada provided surge capacity and defence in depth from day one, long before the US ultimately joined in. In both cases, Canada’s reliable contribution changed the outcome of the war: the Second World War might have turned out quite differently had Canada not helped the UK hold down the island fort. Along with prevailing historical, ethno-cultural, political and economic ties, Canada and Europe share geostrategic interests: in the Arctic with the Nordic countries, and in the Atlantic rim with the UK, France, Spain and Portugal. Although Canada is disproportionately exposed to the consequences of US unilateralism, for Canada, leveraging European power to counterbalance the US is controversial (Haglund 1999). Canada’s changing demographics and trade relationships have oriented Canada away from Europe as the obvious ally and partner in safeguarding Canadian sovereignty. Conversely, Europe has an interest in using its power to assure Canada’s independence so as to limit the latter’s potential overexposure to the hegemonic impulses of the American empire: given the size of Canada’s economy and population, US leverage over Canadian natural, economic and human resources would increase America’s structural leverage, over Europe and the world, by about 10% over today’s American power. Such a situation would ensure its unrivalled status as the premier global superpower, which China alone could not match. In theory then, Canadian sovereignty depends on counterbalancing the US using European power. In practice, since the Second World War, both Canada and Europe have been drafting behind the US, deepening their economic and military reliance on the US, and shifting their strategic gaze away from a Euro-Atlantic community that they have taken for granted. Fixated on the US, both parties have seemingly suffered from amnesia about their bilateral transatlantic geostrategic interdependency. As US geostrategic interests increasingly diverge from those of the EU and Canada, and the US becomes more consumed with domestic (electoral) priorities and structural shifts in geopolitical gravity towards the Indo-Pacific, the relationship between Canada and Europe stands at a cross-roads. To counterbalance the power politics of an emboldened US, Russia and China, Europe and Canada need one another to preserve and uphold the liberal–democratic rules-based international order. This is especially true since the US’s pivot in geopolitical orientation, priorities and resource allocation towards the Indo-Pacific to disrupt an expansionist China that is intent on upending the prevailing international order. The US response to China has been to secure control over critical resources and geostrategic approaches that could render it vulnerable, while ensuring that it remains the world’s largest economy. On the one hand, eyeing natural resources and critical minerals in its proximate vicinity, notably Canada and Greenland, puts the US on a confrontational course with Europe and European interests. On the other, the US is ‘rebalancing’ away from Europe, the European neighbourhood and the Euro-Atlantic community as its priorities, and resources, shift to the Indo-Pacific. As a result, the US is expecting Europe to take on (far) greater responsibility for securing its own political interests and military backyard. In response, some European leaders, notably France, have continued to advocate for greater ‘strategic autonomy’ for Europe—an approach that drew the ire of the first Trump administration and is likely to aggravate Euro-Atlantic tensions—while others, notably Germany, have favoured chequebook diplomacy. This term describes the use of economic aid and investment as a means of attraction as part of soft-power projection (Leuprecht and Hamilton 2020). As the least powerful of the G7, Canada has neither luxury. Without European allies by its side, Canada runs an extreme risk of being left out in the geostrategic cold, with deleterious consequences for both Canada and the EU (Nossal 2023). Within the Euro-Atlantic community, the EU and Canada have not just suffered from mutual benign neglect. In the post–Cold War era, and especially with the advent of the Global War on Terror, Europe’s value to Canada has been declining steadily. Canada’s primary strategic relationship is naturally with the US, with which it shares a continent: co-located with the world’s largest economy, which a free trade agreement has made it ever more dependent on, Canada’s economy and security have become overly reliant on the US. The EU and the vast majority of its member states are also highly—arguably overly—dependent on the security and economic umbrella of the US. The supposed ‘peace dividend’ after the Cold War made NATO members even more dependent on the US. With so great an emphasis on their strategic relationships with the US, the perpendicular Canada–EU edge of the new North Atlantic triangle has never received much attention. What was a sin of omission, is now a sin of commission, by both parties. Friends, without benefits Reorienting Canada–Europe relations—as desirable as it may be—is a tall order. However intellectually appealing and geopolitically necessary, there are many obstacles. First, political leaders on both sides of the Atlantic have neither prioritised bilateral Euro–Canadian relations, nor really taken note of them, whether out of disinterest or because there was no pressing need: to date, 10 EU member countries still have not ratified the Canada–Europe Trade Agreement. In both the Old and the New World, long-term thinking in politics and society is a popular topic of discussion in the salons of the capital cities, but rarely reaches the offices of decision-makers and their advisers. In the end, the untapped potential for more vital, productive and politically successful relations between Canada and Europe is inversely proportional to the actual political will and capital that elites are willing to expend, especially relative to their interest in the US. Second, realignments in international relations require not only a strategic basis but also complementary apparatuses that are willing and able to action new strategic direction. This does not bode well for either Canada or the EU. The Canadian foreign service suffers from a vast backlog of reforms in terms of its structures, vision and mission, which is indicative of a broad decline in the efficiency, effectiveness and objectivity of the Canadian civil service (Savoie 2024) and the steady erosion of the ability of Canada’s federal government to manage civil society. Former Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s Senate Reform resulted in the worst of both worlds: it further aggravated the struggle between Ottawa and the provinces over power and resources, and failed to generate greater capacity and interest in foreign and security policy in Canada’s upper chamber. The senators he appointed were preoccupied with domestic policy, and ideologically disinclined towards provincial rights. Recent foreign policy has resulted in six Canadian foreign ministers over the course of a decade; poor preparation and engagement by ministers who tout Canada’s ‘convening power’ but have little actual legitimacy to convene, let alone deliver; and two failed candidacies for a non-permanent seat on the UN Security Council. The foreign services of the EU and its member states, too, seem more preoccupied with themselves—notably with identity politics—than with playing a measurable, active role in shaping bilateral and multilateral external relations. In both the EU and Canada, the visibility and political effectiveness of foreign affairs instruments underperform: spending is unstructured and not optimised for strategic effect. Yet, both sides share a dogmatically defiant adherence to the legacy of a liberal rules-based international order. Indications of upheaval in the transatlantic relationship date back at least to President Obama’s ‘pivot’ to Asia. Realists posit the international system as anarchic, with states competing against one another and striving for survival. That world of power and interest-driven politics stands in increasingly stark contrast to Europe’s and Canada’s liberal institutionalist and values-driven approaches to the world. Third, for a realignment of the Canadian–European relationship at the political level, the impetus must not only originate from their respective civil societies, but also be accepted and actively legitimated in societies whose demographic composition is undergoing rapid change. Yet, legitimation deficits loom large. The EU’s view of the North American subcontinent remains wedded to the bilateral relationship with the US. At the same time, due to the slow implementation of the Canada–EU Trade Agreement, the potential for economic cooperation with EU institutions and member states remains largely unrealised, despite the fact that it has long been far easier for Canada and European allies to work together than for either to work with the US. For example, the extremely low international mobility rate of Canadian students, which is in the single digits, and the relatively few EU students who study in Canada, foreshadow a lack of future bilateral networks for emerging young leaders to tap into (European Commission 2020). Overly rigid certification standards in Canada for European university degrees impede broader student exchanges, labour mobility and more extensive knowledge transfer. Nevertheless, academic networks, that is, joint projects by non-governmental organisations from the EU dedicated to political cooperation with and in Canada, such as that fostered by the local EU delegation in Ottawa, portend positive developments: for example, the Jean Monnet Chairs and a centre that parlays European interest in Canadian universities, and the Europe Canada Network (EUCAnet) which facilitates transatlantic knowledge sharing among experts. Similarly, in the private sector, Canadian chief executives are in short supply in the EU, and potential candidates more often than not prefer to stay in their home country, the US or the Anglosphere, rather than invest in a transatlantic management career and the associated bilateral networks. The fourth obstacle is a direct result of the meagre transatlantic civil society: the prevailing images Canada and Europe have of one another one the one hand, and the failure to ‘bridge’ the transatlantic imaginary on the other. On the one side is Canada, the cosmopolitan, tolerant and fun subcontinent with bears, lakes, mountains and maple syrup, which—post-colonial realities notwithstanding—is considered by most Europeans to be the better North America and which, with its playful lightness, often manages to escape the critical gaze, and not only that of Europeans. On the other side is ‘Fortress’ Europe, with its sprawling bureaucracy, and myriad unmanageable regulations and trade barriers, which seemingly only feigns openness. Perception could not be further from reality. Foreign policy is driven by national interest, yet despite a trajectory of convergence among Euro–Canadian interests, especially of late, for the EU and European countries, Canada remains a low priority: Canada ranks about sixtieth in terms of priority across European states, well behind all the EU member states, and behind many other large and mid-sized powers around the world. Fifth, despite the intent to build closer ties, fundamentally different economic gravitational pulls on both sides persist: owing to bilateral free-trade agreements and globalisation, over the past 30 years, Canada has gradually become more dependent on the US, while the integrative benefits of the EU’s common market have reduced incentives for member states to invest in bilateral relations with Canada. Sobering foreign trade figures for the EU and European states with Canada hold little prospect of change in the foreseeable future: Canada barely cracks the top 10 of European export markets, whereas the EU is actually Canada’s second most important trading partner—but at barely a tenth of Canada’s trade with the US. Finally, if bilateral EU–Canada cooperation is to deepen, parliaments on both sides need to be more proactive and deliberate in transforming the relationship: while political executives, the European Commission and Canada’s government of the day set the agenda, it is the legislatures that legitimate and sustain it. The European Parliament maintains a permanent liaison office in Washington, DC as well as a European Public Law Organization in London and in every member state, but not in Ottawa. The Canada–Europe Parliamentary Association needs to fashion new formats to invigorate and promote relevant political projects among the Canadian, European and national parliaments, perhaps modelled on the robust array of activities undertaken by the NATO Parliamentary Assembly. Strategic friends, with benefits Its position in the new North Atlantic triangle makes Canada an attractive partner for Europe. Rich in natural resources and critical minerals, Canada has the potential to rank among the world’s most prosperous countries. Canada’s three largest export industries are oil, natural gas and agriculture, along with vast resources in potash (for fertiliser) and uranium (nuclear power). Were Canada to build more pipeline capacity to export hydrocarbons, it would have the potential to make Europe (much) more energy and critical-minerals secure, more competitive and prosperous by contributing to lower European energy prices, and less reliant on the US, the Middle East and Russia, especially for liquified natural gas. Canada has the third-largest oil reserves in the world, produces some of the cleanest natural gas and ranks among the world’s top five exporters of agri-food. Yet, Canada’s pipeline infrastructure is overly reliant on the US, which means Canada has to sell the bulk of its oil to the US at a 25% discount on world market prices. Bringing down European energy prices is the most important contribution Canada could be making in standing with Ukraine: Canada’s failure to export hydrocarbons to Europe keeps European energy prices high, which effectively amounts to Canada subsidising Russia’s war of aggression on Ukraine. Europe procures negligible amounts of Canadian oil via US facilities in the Gulf of Mexico, and Canada exports no liquified natural gas to Europe at all, despite Europe now procuring 120 billion cubic metres a year, about half of which comes from the US. Besides an abundance of natural resources and critical minerals, as well as cheap, clean electricity, Canada is also rich in human resources and other intangible assets: it has a concentration of data centres and artificial intelligence infrastructure, it is home to some of the best public universities in the world, it has a more diverse and younger demography than any European ally, and its immigration strategy has historically favoured high skillsets and education. As a result, Canada has long had the most tertiary-qualified workforce among OECD countries (OCED 2022). Although Canada shares common interests, institutions (such as the North American Aerospace Defence Command, NORAD), a continental identity and ideas with the US, as a Westminster parliamentary democracy, its values and political culture are closer to those of Europe than those of the US (Hataley and Leuprecht 2019). Moreover, as the only country that is a member of both the British Commonwealth and La Francophonie, Canada shares key cultural–linguistic attributes with both the UK and France: within the G7, Canada thus offers a counterweight to the Anglo-Saxon world. Europe also remains Canada’s second most important strategic partner, after the US. Owing to its experiences in the two world wars, Canada has a vested interest in Europe’s territorial integrity, political stability, economic prosperity and social harmony, with its like-minded European allies helping Canada to offset US unilateralist propensities. To that effect, NATO is a vital multilateral organisation for Canada; arguably, it is the most important, giving Canada a voice alongside 30 European allies and the US. Although it would be a mistake to equate counterbalancing the US with participation in NATO, Canada has a vested interest in sustaining and preserving NATO for the purpose of bandwagoning with European members to do just that (Jockel and Sokolsky 2021). For this reason, the Canadian Armed Forces has long been postured as an expeditionary organisation, with its primary orientation towards Europe. Via NATO’s external borders, Canada’s boundary with Russia stretches from its border with Alaska via a (disputed) Arctic maritime flank close to 1,000 km in length, to a 1,215 km land boundary in Northern, Central and Eastern Europe. Canada has thus sustained military commitments along much of the Russian flank. The pattern of Canada’s military deployments also shows that the country has vested interests in the Balkans, Europe’s southern flank, in the Mediterranean, the Middle East and North Africa. However, in recent decades, Canada has let its military atrophy to the point where it struggles to meet basic commitments—to NATO, to NORAD and to defending its own northern interests—let alone make new ones. Yet, the US pivot to the Indo-Pacific has created an opportunity for Canada to support US and European interests by backfilling some US capacity across Europe’s central, eastern and southern flanks, thus shoring up NATO, which is of benefit and interest to all member states. Were the EU to become a more independent defence actor, this would pose a serious risk to Canadian sovereignty and Canada’s standing in the world. In theory, Europe has the industrial base and financial capacity to provide for its own defence, security and survival. This, however, comes at a cost, for which European allies have thus far proven unable to muster the political will, although the European Commission’s $800 billion ReArm Europe plan holds promise that political will may be changing. The lack of will is cause for concern in the US, since Europe’s NATO allies have been sourcing about 60% of their arms from the US market. When France tried to take the initiative to achieve greater strategic autonomy for Europe during the first Trump presidency, Trump’s then NATO ambassador promptly dispatched an aggressive cease-and-desist letter (Leuprecht and Hamilton 2020). Although the US has resisted getting entangled in alliances since its first president, George Washington, NATO offers the US important levers. Nowhere in the world does the US invest proportionately less in defence for a higher rate of return. Canada and Europe are better positioned to add value to US military, political and strategic interests, than to try to go it alone individually. As Keohane (1988) famously observed, for the US, NATO is a very efficient and effective collective decision-making mechanism, gathering 30 European countries plus Canada—including some of the world’s top spenders on defence—the UK, Germany and France. Combined, the non-US NATO members spend about US$600 billion on defence (as compared to the US$877 billion by the US). The importance of NATO as an information-sharing and coordination mechanism has grown substantially since the formulation of NATO’s 2022 Strategic Concept, which brought key partners in the Indo-Pacific into the fold, including Australia, Japan, South Korea and New Zealand. Together, these allies and partners spent roughly US$1.7 trillion of a total global defence expenditure of about US$2.44 trillion in 2023. Of course, aggregate expenditures are an inchoate measure of military capability and commitment. While the US can necessarily exert greater pressure on any one country bilaterally, the benefits of NATO decision-making and coordination far outweigh the transaction costs for the US to do so bilaterally across three dozen countries. The reason the US spends as much as it does on its military is to preserve its freedom of action. Ultimately, being able to act unilaterally means never having to rely on others. Nonetheless, even though dispensable, allies are convenient to have as they also bring soft power, money and moral legitimacy. Greater European strategic autonomy is of little interest to the US, outside the NATO framework. The US does, however, have an interest in greater complementarity, capability and effectiveness within the organisation: it wants allies to do more together, on their own, provided they deconflict with the US. As the only other non-European NATO member country, Canada necessarily shares the transatlantic orientation of the US. Canada’s defence relations with Europe thus offer the US a mechanism to fall back on should the EU strive for greater strategic autonomy without coordinating with NATO and, therefore, with US interests. The lesson that the US drew from the Second World War was that, as a superpower, it has global interests. To this end, US unilateralism took on the trappings of a more multilateral approach to global affairs. The US collaborated with European partners and Canada to build the foundations of the post-war security, trade and monetary infrastructure: NATO, the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, and the Bretton Woods Accord (which laid the foundations for the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank). This strategic collaboration brought North America and (Western) Europe historically unprecedented security, prosperity and stability. Over time, however, both the European members of NATO and Canada have forgotten that, multilateral trappings aside, the arrangement was born primarily out of US interest. In the aftermath of the two world wars, the US learned that territorial integrity, political stability, collective prosperity and social harmony in and of Europe were in the best interests of its aspirations as a global superpower. The claim to superpower status depended on a degree of control over Europe. Russia has long understood this; the US came to this realisation in the twentieth century; and for a China with global ambitions, this is a relatively recent realisation. For the US, NATO and extended nuclear deterrence are the means to this end; which is why Russia is intent on upending NATO, as both Russia and China aspire to be global players in a multipolar world, rather than regional players under a Pax Americana. Although Canada does not have nuclear arms, its position in North America necessarily means it has a role in assuring extended nuclear deterrence. Russia’s strategic approaches to North America, by way of the Arctic, pass through Canadian airspace. Canada’s gradual commitment to and spending on Arctic security and defence, including NORAD, therefore, are not just about homeland defence, but are also an investment in NATO by means of continental defence writ large (Leuprecht et al. 2018). North American continental defence assures uncompromised latitude for sovereign decision-making in Washington as well as Ottawa. An adversary that can threaten North America with intercontinental ballistic missiles or hypersonic missiles, for instance, could effectively curtail sovereign decision-making that reflects the best interests and legitimate democratic will of Americans or Canadians. That is, an adversary could overtly threaten Ottawa or Washington with an attack if confronted with a political choice that runs counter to its interests. This matters all the more since North American continental security is the bedrock of credible extended nuclear deterrence. An adversary that is able to call the nuclear triad, and especially the second-strike capability, into question would effectively undermine the US security umbrella that spans the Atlantic and Pacific rims. The states that currently rely on US extended deterrence would thus have an incentive to resort to nuclear proliferation to ensure their own survival. Since nuclear proliferation runs counter to European and Canadian interests in regional and global stability, this is one more reason for them to be more strategic about coordinating their contribution to the triangle. Ostensibly, the US does not need Canada to provide North American continental defence: the US has the capacity, capabilities and resources to go it alone. However, cutting Canada out of North American strategic defence would significantly reduce NATO’s leverage over collective defence. Europe and European allies would be left to deal with the US alone; Canada’s currency on the continent and across the Atlantic would be greatly diminished. The coincidence of NATO’s pivot to North American Arctic defence and Obama’s pivot to the Indo-Pacific is no accident. Certainly, there is an operational requirement to coordinate with NORAD on an integrated all-domain layered Arctic defence along NATO’s entire frontier with Russia. But this change also highlighted that NATO is, first and foremost, a political—not a military—alliance. Obama’s pivot necessarily meant less US attention paid to, input and interest in NATO; thus, it was in NATO’s best interest to show the flag in America’s backyard. NATO has not one but three pillars: Europe, North America and the transatlantic area. How we imagine the third matters for how the US imagines NATO’s role in the Atlantic: either, as popularised by Walter Lippman (1917), as an ‘ocean highway’ that by geography, culture and necessity connects two continental ‘communities’; or, in a triumph of politics over geography, as theorised by Alan Henrikson (1980), as a ‘lake’ and ‘inland sea’ that unifies rather than divides. Within the North Atlantic triangle, Canada can bridge the divide of a vast ocean, making it into a much more manageable inland sea. Canada’s geographic continental co-location with the US gives Europe limited, but strategically indispensable, leverage beyond Washington through which to influence the second and third pillars of NATO, using defence and diplomacy to counter US unilateralist proclivities. Conclusion For Canada to become even more (over)dependent on the US than it already is runs fundamentally counter to European interests. The EU has a vested interest in Canada maintaining sovereign control over its resources, political decision-making and defence. Conversely, the prospect of greater European strategic autonomy in defence outside of the NATO framework poses a potentially existential risk to Canada, rendering it more dependent on the US, and thus reducing its value to allies and partners and, by extension, its standing in the world. If this were to happen, Canada would face much higher transaction costs more akin to those of its partners in the Indo-Pacific, having to invest a lot more in foreign policy and defence for greatly diminished returns. Canadian sovereignty is a Trump card that the US is now playing to maximise its power and range of unilateral action in a world where its hegemony is under threat. Europe and Canada used to be discretionary friends. Now is the time to realise mutual benefits for strategic effect. Canada can support Europe’s interests in energy security, critical minerals, defence and defence in depth. In return, the EU can bolster Canadian political and economic sovereignty. Partnering with the EU is also the most efficient and effective way for Canada to gain greater independence from the US in defence and defence-industrial capacity. Greater, more autonomous military-industrial capacity would enable both Canada and the EU to build sustainable capabilities and commit to collective defence. Such a strategy would have a dual signalling purpose: of military deterrence to Russia, and of political and economic deterrence to the US. Canada and the EU should not just protect but actually promote their military, political and economic interests. Failing to be strategic about collective transatlantic security and the Euro-Atlantic community within the new North American triangle increases the risk that Canada and Europe will be abandoned by the US. Lord Ismay had a premonition should Europe and Canada fail to shape their future: Russia in Europe, America out, under German leadership. ORCID iDChristian Leuprecht https://orcid.org/0000-0001-9498-4749ReferencesBrebner J. B. (1966). North Atlantic triangle: The interplay of Canada, the United States and Great Britain. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart.European Commission. (2020). ERASMUS+ for higher education in Canada. https://ec.europa.eu/assets/eac/erasmus-plus/factsheets/america-caribbean/canada_erasmusplus_2020.pdf. Accessed 20 March 2025.Haglund D. (1999). The North American triangle revisited: (Geo)political metaphor and the logic of Canadian foreign policy. American Review of Canadian Studies, 29(2), 211–35. Crossref.Haglund D. (2025). Brebner’s North Atlantic Triangle at 80: A (second) retrospective look at a retrospective book. London Journal of Canadian Studies, 31(1), 93–119. https://www.queensu.ca/politics/sites/polswww/files/uploaded_files/Selected%20Publications/LJCS%20Second%20Brebner%20Retrospective.pdf. Accessed 24 April 2025.Hataley T., Leuprecht C. (2019). Bilateral coordination of border security, intelligence sharing, counter-terrorism, and counter-radicalization. In Carment D., Sands C. (eds.), Canada–US relations: Sovereignty or shared institutions? (pp. 87–104). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Crossref.Henrikson A. K. (1980). The geographical mental maps of American foreign policy makers. International Political Science Review, 1(4), 495–530. Crossref.Jockel J. J., Sokolsky J. J. (2021). Canada in NATO: 1949–2019. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press. Crossref.Keohane R. (1988). Alliances, threats, and the uses of neorealism. International Security, 13(1), 169–76. Crossref.Leuprecht C., Hamilton R. (2020). New opportunities in common security and defence policy: Joining PESCO. In Chaban N., Knodt M. (eds.), ‘New opportunities for the Canada–EU strategic partnership’, Special issue, Australian and New Zealand Journal of European Studies, 11(3), 78–94. https://www.esaanz.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/Leuprecht_Hamilton-1.pdf. Accessed 23 April 2025.Leuprecht C., Sokolsky J. J., Hughes T. (2018). North American strategic defence in the 21st century: Security and sovereignty in an uncertain world. Cham: Springer. Crossref.Lippmann W. (1917). In Defence of the Atlantic World. The New Republic, 10(120), 59-61.North Atlantic Treaty. (1949). Washington, DC, 4 April 1949. UNTS 34, 243.NATO. (2025). The Secretary General’s annual report, 2024. https://www.nato.int/nato_static_fl2014/assets/pdf/2025/4/pdf/sgar24-en.pdf. Accessed 9 May 2025.Nossal K. R. (2023). Canada alone: Navigating the post-American world. Toronto: Dundurn Press.OECD. (2022). Educational attainment. https://www.oecd.org/en/topics/sub-issues/education-attainment.html. Accessed 20 March 2025.Rodman P. W. (1995). NATO’s role in a new European security order. NATO Working Paper 95.2. https://www.nato.int/acad/conf/future95/rodman.htm. Accessed 23 April 2025.Savoie D. (2024). Speaking truth to Canadians about their public service. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press.Von der Leyen U. (@vonderleyen). (2025). Congratulations to @MarkJCarney on becoming Canada’s next Prime Minister. X. 14 March, 3.28 pm. https://x.com/vonderleyen/status/1900569759378235851. Accessed 16 April 2025.