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Abstract It has been over a decade since the emergence of what is now best known as the “Belt and Road Initiative” (BRI). This Special Issue, a decade after the BRI was launched, highlights the immense complexity not only of the idea itself but also of China's global influence and the varied attitudes and responses towards it. We hope that these studies, with their diverse approaches and evidence bases, contribute to enriching the expanding literature on the BRI – a trend that is unlikely to wane anytime soon as China continues to be a major global force in the twenty-first century. It has now been over a decade since Xi Jinping first announced the “Silk Road Economic Belt” (丝绸之路经济带, sichou zhilu jingji dai) on land in Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, in September 2013. Later that year, in October, he also announced a new “twenty-first century Maritime Silk Road” (21世纪海上丝绸之路, ershiyi shiji haishang sichou zhilu) in Indonesia. These announcements marked the beginning of what is now best known as the “Belt and Road Initiative” (BRI; 一带一路, yidai yilu). For several years in the early first decade of the twenty-first century, as China's economy grew exponentially in size following its entry into the World Trade Organisation in 2001, there were increasing calls for the country to clarify its global ambitions now that it was a genuinely global economic power. The short-lived notion – around the period between 2003 and 2005 – of China enjoying a “peaceful rise” (和平崛起, heping jueqi) didn’t help much in this regard, with the US and others calling on Beijing to state more clearly its commitment not just to multilateral trade agreements and arrangements, but to their underpinning values (Glaser and Medeiros, 2007). Hu Jintao's presidency from 2002 to 2012 coincided with a period of spectacular gross domestic product (GDP) growth and diplomatic silence. When China did indeed surpass Japan as the world's second-largest economy in overall GDP terms in 2010, the need to clearly articulate its view on its global role became more urgent. Since Xi Jinping took power in 2012, the era of the “China Dream” (中国梦, zhongguo meng) and of “telling China's story well” (讲好中国故事, jianghao zhongguo gushi), both internally and externally, has finally begun (Wang and Feng, 2016; Xue Er Shi Xi, 2021). The BRI, therefore, was a core part of the messaging that the country was now engaged in. The initial policy document jointly issued by three ministries of the State Council in 2015 talked of connectivity, a zone of free trade, people-to-people links, and greater cultural communication, all of which were predicated on win–win outcomes (National Development and Reform Commission, Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Ministry of Commerce, 2015). That was met increasingly, however, with external criticisms, which ranged from the general vagueness attributed to the BRI to its role in creating indebted partner countries as well as the suspicion that this was about attempting to acquire power, rather than being a cooperative, constructive member of the international community (Perlez and Huang, 2017). Former US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, for instance, labelled the initiative something that did “harm” and framed it as the primary vehicle by which Beijing was extending its malign influence across the world to support authoritarianism and push back against democratic values (Murray-Atfield and Staff, 2020). With over a decade now in existence, this is a good time to reflect on and review what the BRI has meant to the world so far. In 2015, there was no real track record, beyond alluding to China's growing energy and economic interests in Africa, Latin America, and what became labelled as the “Global South.” Since then, a plethora of different treatments and studies have emerged, utilising various metrics, conceptual frameworks, and datasets (e.g. Garlick, 2020; Garlick and Havlová, 2020; Gerstl, 2020; Shakhanova and Garlick, 2020; Turcsanyi and Kachlikova, 2020; Vangeli, 2020). This Special Edition contributes to that literature with a set of contrasting approaches and geographical focuses regarding the BRI. This is a testament to the complexity of the phenomenon itself and its multidimensional character. The one thing that each contribution has, for all their differences, is a recognition of how complex the BRI is, and how it quickly evades straightforward frameworks and unilinear approaches. In Africa, as Ajah and Onuoha (2025) write in their study of Nigerian experiences with the BRI, the record shows that things are not as simple as to support the notion that China is using its newly acquired economic assets solely to assert its power in its own interests. Acknowledging the often critical analysis offered by subscribers to neocolonial, neo-realism and dependency prism theorists, they opt to use complex interdependence theory, stating that the BRI has “provided Nigeria with an opportunity to secure funds for rehabilitating and upgrading its railway infrastructure” (Ajah and Onuoha, 2025: 134). Based on detailed interviews and field research in the country, they show a situation in which the BRI, not just in railways, but in ports and airports, has “yielded tangible results in addressing Nigeria's infrastructural deficits” (Ajah and Onuoha, 2025: 137). That issue of tangibility is essential, with empirical data on both the amount Chinese partners have spent and the results they have achieved.  Recognising the issues around lack of transparency by Chinese partners at some points, and the problems around terms of funding and how these are negotiated and settled, the authors nonetheless conclude that the BRI offers Nigeria more opportunity than vulnerability, providing a cogent corrective to the blanket accusation of one-sided deals where “win–win” for China means that it gains twice. Comerma (2024) addresses the issue of values and frameworks in the differing context of the European Union, and in particular, how normative language emanating from the Chinese government appeared in the eighty Memoranda of Understanding (MOUs) issued between China and various European governments since 2018. To some, this was a clear attempt by China to gain validation more widely for its signature foreign policy initiative, and ultimately, for its own desire for influence, recognition, and status. It was linked, as Comerma argues, to a push for a form of soft power with Chinese characteristics, which was popular in the first decade of the twenty-first century and which lingered during the early Xi era. However, leaving aside those MOUs that were impossible to get hold of, in the two that she offers detailed analysis of – those with Italy and Hungary – the outcomes proved very different in the end. Despite adopting some of China's normative language, its soft power was limited, particularly with an audience that holds European values (Comerma, 2024: 242). As she concludes, even if governments did accept Chinese normative language, which overrode their subscription to market values and democratic principles, in implementation, things have not gone smoothly. This is further testified to by the fact that Italy allowed its agreement on the BRI to lapse in 2022. Lin's (2024) approach looks not at a region or territory and its experience and engagement with BRI, but at the issue of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR). As this article shows, China has shown interest not so much in soft power, but in what is labelled as “soft connectivity,” recognising that there were issues and responsibilities in terms of engagement and management of its overseas interests through the BRI that needed to be considered. As Lin writes, historically, China has “found itself at the receiving end of norms diffusion” (Lin, 2024: 154). With its own celebrated “Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence” adopted in the 1950s, China stands by a position of non-interference in the affairs of others. That should mean that its investments and engagements in the outside world do not seem to have overt social and political aims, despite the accusations made to the contrary by the country's critics. Lin argues that while China, of course, does not compromise on observing its own mode of doing things domestically, it has proven a “rational and pragmatic” actor externally (Lin, 2024: 172). In environmental issues, in particular, it has found at least a relatively non-contentious space by which to explore CSR-related actions in ways which are seen as mutually beneficial and acceptable, even as its stance on labour rights has been far fainter. The BRI land route was, as noted at the start of this introduction, initially announced in Kazakhstan. It is therefore timely that this volume includes a contribution by Primiano and Kudebayeva (2023) on how students at a university in Almaty view the BRI and Chinese influence generally. Their findings make sobering reading. Despite Central Asia being a key focus of BRI activity and often regarded as a region of largely positive relations with China, the views revealed through the surveys are largely negative and critical. Unsurprisingly, those with greater adherence to liberal and democratic values are the most critical of China, viewing the latter's investments as a threat to the country's oil and gas interests and displaying high levels of unease. At the same time, it is interesting and perhaps significant to note that the study also found a general lack of knowledge regarding the BRI and China's presence in Kazakhstan. Finally, shifting our attention to the sea, Schmitz (2024) offers an assessment of China's historical statecraft in the context of BRI, with a specific focus on the instrumentalisation of the Chinese notion of tianxia (天下, all under heaven) by the country's political and academic elites to narrate both China's past and present as a maritime power and legitimate its claims over various maritime territories. Drawing on textual materials sourced from the China National Knowledge Infrastructure, one of the largest databases of academic publications in the country, Schmitz analyses the resurrection of memories of the now-celebrated Ming-era eunuch admiral Zheng He, as well as the archaeological and historical records of Zheng's extensive explorations up to the coast of eastern Africa in the early fifteenth century. For Schmitz, the BRI embodies this expansive thinking of tianxia, which maps out a world where there are the “core region” and “surrounding, concentric zones of influence” (Schmitz, 2024: 215). Acknowledging that “[d]espite the ambitious narrative that frames it, in practice, BRI is a patchwork […],” Schmitz argues, the narrative of tianxia under the sea should be understood as “more than simply a strategy used to calm fears” (Schmitz, 2024: 214), but presenting a different notion of what international space might be, and of how, at least from China's perspective, it seeks to operate within that space. This Special Issue, a decade after the BRI appeared, shows the enormous complexity not only of the idea itself, but also of China's global influence and the range of attitudes and responses to it. That the contributions contain perspectives from Africa, Europe, Central Asia, and the Asian region itself proves how expansive the reach of the project is, as well as how many different issues, from values to CSR, notions of power and dependency, and intellectual frameworks, are involved with it. We hope that these studies, with their very different approaches and evidence bases, help to enrich the growing literature on the BRI – a trend that is unlikely to disappear anytime soon as China continues to be a global force in the twenty-first century. Declaration of Conflicting InterestsThe authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.FundingThe authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.ORCID iDsKerry Brown https://orcid.org/0000-0002-3472-2357Sinan Chu https://orcid.org/0000-0002-9518-1953ReferencesAjah Anthony Chinonso, Onuoha Jonah Isaac (2025) China’s Belt and Road Initiative and infrastructure development in Nigeria: unveiling a paradigm shift or repackaging of failed ventures? 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(2007) The changing ecology of foreign policy-making in China: the ascension and demise of the theory of “peaceful rise.” The China Quarterly 190(June): 291–310.Lin Yue (2024) Evolving normative dynamics: understanding China’s varied approaches to overseas corporate social responsibility in the Belt and Road Initiative era. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 149–182. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026241283916.Murray-Atfield Yara, and Staff (2020) Ambassador intervenes after Mike Pompeo warns US could “disconnect” from Australia over Victoria’s Belt and Road deal. ABC News, 24 May. Available at: https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-05-24/mike-pompeo-warning-over-victoria-belt-and-road-deal/12280956 (accessed 01 July 2025).National Development and Reform Commission, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and Ministry of Commerce (2015) Vision and actions on jointly building Silk Road Economic Belt and 21st-Century Maritime Silk Road. Ministry of Foreign Affairs, People’s Republic of China. March. Available at: https://www.mfa.gov.cn/eng/zy/jj/2015zt/xjpcxbayzlt2015nnh/202406/t20240606_11381659.html (accessed 01 July 2025).Perlez Jane, Huang Yufan (2017) Behind China’s $1 trillion plan to shake up the economic order. The New York Times, 13 May. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/13/business/china-railway-one-belt-one-road-1-trillion-plan.html (accessed 01 July 2025).Primiano Christopher B., Kudebayeva Alma (2023) A bumpy ride for China’s Belt and Road Initiative in Kazakhstan: findings from a university survey. Journal of Current Chinese Affairs 54(2): 183–211. https://doi.org/10.1177/18681026231211354.Schmitz Frederik (2024) Tianxia under the sea: China’s quest for maritime history. 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Abstract This article analyzes the challenges and threats to global peace and stability, derived from the unipolar geopolitical vision of the United States and the application of the so-called “Donroe Doctrine”, promoted during the Trump administration and characterized by the “Maximum Pressure” strategy promoted by the America First Policy Institute. Through a methodology of documentary review of primary and secondary sources, together with a prospective analysis of risk trends, the strategic and leading role of CELAC in the defense of the interests of Latin America and the Caribbean is dimensioned, highlighting how this organization opens opportunities to strengthen trade relations with Asia and Africa, contributing to the construction of a multipolar world order by promoting initiatives such as China's Belt and Road as an alternative mechanism to the global economic war of the United States and its “US-CUM” project, framed in its foreign policy based on national security interests. Introduction 21st-century geopolitics has undoubtedly been characterized by strong pragmatism in the exercise of states’ foreign policy, balancing between two visions — specifically between the Unipolar Geopolitical Vision and the Multipolar Geopolitical Vision — which have categorized the praxis of international relations of the so-called Global North and Global South, respectively; a context that clearly shows a fervent struggle for political control of resources and for hegemony, where the United States competes for global supremacy with emerging poles of power such as Russia and China. Given the current international scenario, it becomes increasingly imperative to identify and understand both the needs and the challenges for the planet’s sustainable development, from a global perspective in all areas (economic, political, social, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military). In this regard, the present research prospectively analyzes the administration of President Donald Trump as part of the multidimensional threats that the U.S. represents not only for Latin America and the Caribbean but also for Africa and Asia, considering the impact of current U.S. foreign policy both on the American continent and for Africa and Asia. All of this is with a view to highlighting, through debate, the importance of rethinking CELAC as an international organization that systematically advances in a transition process from “Community” to “Confederation,” as an intergovernmental entity with the capacity to confront the threats of a unipolar geopolitical vision foreign policy, and in line with the goals established as development projects under the so-called “CELAC 360 Vision” [1], aligned with the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) of the 2030 Agenda, adopted by the United Nations (UN). Regarding the referred geopolitical transition, it is worth noting, as Guendel (2024) states: “The rising multipolarity will provoke, starting from this first decade of the 21st century, the emergence of historical events that mark the reaction to the expansion of Western geopolitical power to those old regions that were under another geopolitical influence. Among the most notable events, we must consider the processes of de-dollarization of the world economy, the war in Ukraine, the tension in the Taiwan Strait, and, of course, the war in Palestine. Under this reference, it is possible to characterize the current international geopolitical scenario as a moment of transition between the previous form of unipolar power and the new multipolar relations (123) [2]. Building on the above, the current geopolitical transition is a systemic process sustained by the multipolarity of international relations, driven by the struggle for power and the quest for economic dominance in both domestic and international markets. This has given rise to a growing trend in states’ foreign policy toward the construction of a multipolar world, where territorial governance over strategic resources forms part of the necessary geopolitical counterweight in regional dialogue, cooperation, and integration to face the challenges of the present century. The changes in the world order require Latin America and the Caribbean, Africa, and Asia to promote an idea of continental unity, framed within an anti-imperialist mindset, allowing progress toward Latin American, African, and Asian continentalism, compatible with the multipolar geopolitical vision, under the sustainable development approach put forward through the BRICS. Regarding this last international actor, Guendel (2024) notes: “In the development of a new phase of the globalization process after the end of the Cold War — what was geopolitically a new scenario for consolidating unipolar power relations — new lateral actors emerged, the so-called BRICS, which, by proposing alternative ways of thinking and economic relations favorable to Third World countries, would foster the emergence of a new global geopolitical scenario of multipolar relations (123). According to this scenario, the trend toward multipolarity in international relations —strengthened by globalization and technological advancements — will allow for the consolidation of a multipolar world, though not without first becoming a causal factor of various conflicts and challenges on a global scale, specifically in all spheres of power (economic, political, social, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military). Hence the importance of formulating a strategy for regional integration of Latin America, Asia, and Africa that aligns with global sustainable development plans — such as China’s Belt and Road Initiative — which, combined with the BRICS, constitute two fundamental pillars in strengthening the multipolar world. However, this will also accentuate the differences in geopolitical interests between the strategic agenda of the Global North (led by the U.S. through the G7) and that of the Global South (BRICS countries) regarding the projected economic growth of each. Having this in mind, the present research aims to analyze the challenges and threats to global peace and stability as a consequence of the U.S. unipolar geopolitical vision and the application of the so-called “Donroe Doctrine,” promoted by President Donald Trump and the policies advanced by his main think tank, the America First Policy Institute (AFPI), characterized by the “Maximum Pressure.” Development U.S.: Foreign policy oriented toward a new global fundamentalism The new White House administration, under the presidency of Donald Trump, challenges the so-called conservative Establishment [3] in the U.S., and according to Myriam Corte (2018), in her article on “Analysis of the U.S. ‘Establishment’” [4], the following statement is mentioned: “The residence of the current president is the site that houses political power, but at the same time reflects migratory power, since it is a construction built in the 18th century by African slaves, based on Irish architecture. As for the cabinet, it is made up of wealthy white men, who are responsible for administering power, but in the current administration some members have been accused of domestic abuse and misogynistic practices; therefore, it is important to identify whether Trump represents that old, conservative, and rigid establishment, or if there is any change” (1). According to what has been stated, there is undoubtedly a perception of a different stance associated with the “Deep State” Establishment in the U.S., with relevant structural changes that have a strong impact on both domestic and foreign policy. An example of this, according to Myriam Corte (2018), is represented in the very fact that: “Another variant is the Bible study group that was formed in the White House, as well as the group of fellows made up of 147 young people between the ages of 21 and 29, with a characteristic profile: all are wealthy individuals, among them the son of the president of the World Bank, who represent the new generation that will inherit power…” (1). In this context, the U.S.’s status as a major power revolves around a scenario of geopolitical conflict, even prioritizing its national interests over those of its main strategic allies, as a consequence of the systemic deterioration of its hegemony vis-à-vis Russia and China. This has generated hostile political actions as strategies to justify its territorial ambitions, in an attempt to counter the exponential growth of the BRIC and the crisis this represents for the global dollar system. A clear example of some hostile political actions is reflected in what happened with its European (NATO) partners recently, as well as with Canada, Mexico, and Greenland, becoming part of the geopolitical pragmatism promoted by the Donald Trump administration. Now, in direct relation to the unipolar geopolitical vision that characterizes U.S. foreign policy, it oscillates between defending the interests of the conservative Establishment and the postulates and ideals promoted by the AFPI [5], which maintain a clear influence in the conduct of U.S. foreign policy, acting as a think tank. Regarding this matter related to the influence of AFPI in the Donald Trump administration, it is worth mentioning some aspects associated with the practice of U.S. foreign policy for a better understanding of its current dynamics, which revolve around a new global fundamentalism with a marked unipolar geopolitical vision. Among them, we have the following: New global fundamentalism against the conservative national security establishment The AFPI serves as the main think tank for the Trump administration, according to Seibt (2024), who in his article “The America First Policy Institute, a discreet ‘combat’ machine for Donald Trump” [6], states the following: “America First” is often associated solely with Donald Trump’s isolationism. But behind the scenes, it is also linked to an ultra-conservative think tank with growing influence, the America First Policy Institute (AFPI)” (1); a fact that justifies the appointments made before and after Donald Trump’s swearing-in as President of the U.S., as he has been using an increasingly influential group in high-level decisions, subtly and systematically modifying changes in strategic agendas from the so-called “Deep State,” starting from what Seibt (2024) also refers to: “…the election of Brooke Rollins marks the consecration of AFPI’s influence, of which she is president, and which has been described by the New York Times as ‘a group as influential as it is little known’ in the orbit of Trumpism… Brooke Rollins is not the only person from AFPI that Donald Trump has chosen for his future government. Linda McMahon, chosen to be Secretary of Education, is the director of this think tank. And let us not forget Pam Bondi, who has been called to replace the too-controversial Matt Gaetz as Attorney General, and who oversees all the legal matters of the America First Policy Institute” (para. 5). In this context, there is clear evidence of AFPI’s influence within the Trump administration; therefore, to understand where the unipolar geopolitical vision recently adopted by the U.S. is headed — together with its prospective analysis — it is necessary to understand, from the very foundations of AFPI, how this organization envisions the path of what it calls, from a supremacist perspective, “America First.” To this end, it is enough to review the main AFPI website [7], where both its vision and analysis of what the U.S. should be, as well as how it should approach the exercise of foreign policy, are broken down and organized — with a curious detail that sets it apart: placing the interests of the American people above the interests of the conservative National Security establishment, stimulating the need to create a nation different from what they consider a “theoretical United States.” As AFPI (2025) states and describes: The Center for American Security at the America First Policy Institute defends Americans rather than a “theoretical United States” imagined by Washington’s national security establishment. The exercise of American power requires a clear justification, and an “America First” approach ensures that such power is used for the benefit of Americans. To promote this objective, the Center seeks to ensure the rigorous advancement of policies that constitute an authentically American alternative to the increasingly obsolete orthodoxy of Washington’s foreign and defense policy… (para. 2). As outlined, AFPI both promotes and warns about the exercise of power, prioritizing U.S. interests, as long as these remain distant from what it considers the “obsolete orthodoxy of foreign policy” that has characterized the U.S. for decades and centuries. In this sense, the likelihood increases of perceiving the presence or formation of a different establishment in the U.S., one that rivals the Anglo-Saxon conservatism rooted since the nation’s very founding. Domestically, the perception of a new global fundamentalism in U.S. foreign policy grows — one with an even more marked unipolar geopolitical vision of an imperialist nature — based on what AFPI (2025) doctrinally dictates in terms of foreign policy: The phrase “America First” refers to an approach rooted in the awareness of the United States’ unique role in the world and its unparalleled ability to do the most for others when its people are strong, secure, and prosperous. It means that any commitment of American lives or dollars abroad must bring concrete benefits to the American people. Every investment of U.S. resources must generate a substantial security benefit (para. 3). From this, it is possible to infer the direction of the U.S. strategic agenda under the current administration and doctrinally supported by AFPI as its main think tank. However, the deep changes that are occurring — both inside and outside the U.S. — and how the global economic and financial situation fluctuates because of these changes, in a certain way, compel major economies to reconsider new mechanisms for economic and financial coordination and cooperation. This includes strengthening regional integration frameworks that allow them to navigate the ongoing process of reconfiguring the current world order, laying the groundwork for the construction of a multipolar world. Proxy Control of Global Territorial Governance, Backed by the “Donroe Doctrine” The exercise of current U.S. foreign policy, characterized by a unipolar geopolitical vision under the new Trump administration, is the result of the application of a doctrine carefully designed and reformulated from its dogmas, supported by a strong religious fundamentalism and associated with racial supremacism; wherein the U.S. seeks to perpetuate its global hegemony by returning to its original imperialist character. All of this turns the exercise of U.S. power toward National Security, but with a practical approach different from the so-called “obsolete orthodoxy of conservative foreign policy.” As AFPI (2021) has emphasized since its founding: Religious freedom is a fundamental human right guaranteed not only in the Constitution of the United States but also in Article 18 of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights. It is a natural right inherent to all of humanity (para. 3). With the above, at first glance, AFPI appears to delineate its religious fundamentalism, oriented toward the promotion of a new global fundamentalism through the exercise of foreign policy that justifies its actions in favor of U.S. supremacist interests, in line with what AFPI (2021) reiterates as its mission on its platform: AFPI exists to promote policies that prioritize the American people. Our guiding principles are freedom, free enterprise, national greatness, U.S. military superiority, foreign policy engagement in the interest of the United States, and the primacy of American workers, families, and communities in all we do (para. 1). To this, we must add the disposition — regarding national security — of driving U.S. supremacism through the application of Hard Power [8], economic warfare, and the increased implementation of Unilateral Coercive Measures (UCMs) against any country that contravenes U.S. interests, by perpetuating interventionist policy in all spheres of power (economic, political, social, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military). An example of the above is referred to by AFPI (2025) on its website [9], as follows: The American victories in World War II and the Cold War established our country as “the last best hope for man on Earth.” The cause of freedom everywhere in the world depends on a strong United States. With our country secure, we can, with greater confidence, promote American security abroad. U.S. security is exemplified by a strong military, fair trade agreements, alliances that are equitable, aggressors who are isolated, and those who harm us, destroyed. The AFPI views American security abroad as a prerequisite for peace at home: always putting American interests first. This includes moving away from endless and unnecessary wars to rebuild the homeland, while also understanding our indispensable role in maintaining a peaceful world… (para. 4). With a brief reading of the above, it is possible to see at first glance the practical description of current U.S. foreign policy, starting from the fact of recent attempts to end the Ukrainian conflict; however, skepticism when addressing both the geopolitical feasibility and the reliability of the proposals made by the Trump administration reveals a hidden objective, particularly associated with proxy control of global territorial governance through hostile policies and the use of the government itself as a weapon. An example of this is the stimulation of a trade war by the U.S. against Canada, Mexico, and the European Union (NATO allies), all with the aim of establishing as a rule the use of Hard Power for political persuasion over strategic resources — an example of this being the recent (and forcibly) signed rare earths agreement by Ukraine — in favor of the United States. U.S.-CUM, a New Nation-State and Persuasive Technology: Utopia or Global Geopolitical Threat? Geopolitical changes in the 21st century are advancing in parallel with technology, the economy, and global energy interdependence. For this reason, the use of Persuasive Technologies [10], through various media and information channels, plays a fundamental role in creating opinion frameworks and the mass manipulation of perceptions on a global scale. In other words, in the Era of Disinformation, technology is the primary tool, stemming from the communication needs of modern society. In this regard, Tusa et al. (2019) state the following: “…fake news has always existed. What is happening now is a greater emergence on open and free access platforms, which causes this type of information to grow exponentially in a matter of seconds. Therefore, fake news creates a wave of disinformation, a fact that motivates academia and civil society to counter it, to achieve the return of good journalism and truthful information” (20). [11] In this context, current disinformation processes respond to pre-established objectives by power poles linked to fluctuating geoeconomic interests in the world order, in which the Global North with a unipolar geopolitical vision and the Global South with a multipolar geopolitical vision are in open confrontation. In relation to this, Valton (2022) points out: “…economic globalization, finance, and the development of new technologies have opened spaces for the new geoeconomy. Thus, geoeconomy as part of the process of change plays an essential role that affects international relations, with an impact on international trade, global markets, and conflicts in the quest for capital accumulation. Geopolitical interests are closely linked to the economic gains of major capitalist powers and transnational corporations in their eagerness to increase their revenues, maintain and expand their area of influence in other regions, at the expense of the indiscriminate exploitation of the natural resources of underdeveloped countries, with high poverty rates and environmental damage” (2). [12] Now, considering the unipolar geopolitical vision of U.S. foreign policy and the doctrinal influence of the AFPI in the new Trump administration, there is a curious growing communication campaign on different digital platforms, specifically associated with persuasive technologies, that fosters the perception of the creation of a new State called U.S.-CUM. While this corresponds to a very subtle disinformation campaign and somewhat utopian in nature, it is nonetheless surprising that, in the facts and actions of the new White House administration, they have not stopped flirting with certain ideas related to the mentioned State in question.   To be more specific, the U.S.-CUM is a utopian idea of a territorial expansion of the current United States, adding the territorial spaces of Canada and Mexico with the goal of increasing the economic, political, financial, and military capacities of the U.S., to counter emerging powers and prevent the consolidation of a multipolar world. An example of this can be found in some posts made on the Reddit platform, a social network popular among the U.S. population, similar to Instagram, X, TikTok, and Facebook, among others. The U.S.-CUM utopia has now moved from a mere concept to a possible threat to global geopolitics, the moment the foreign policy of the Trump administration suggests the possibility of territorially adding Canada, turning it into the 51st state of the United States. Colvin (2025), in his AP article titled “Trump says he is serious about making Canada the 51st U.S. state,” refers to the following: President Donald Trump said he was serious about wanting Canada to become the 51st state of the United States in an interview aired Sunday during the Super Bowl pregame show… The United States is not subsidizing Canada. Americans purchase products from the resource-rich nation, including raw materials such as oil. Although the goods trade deficit has grown in recent years to $72 billion in 2023, it largely reflects U.S. imports of Canadian energy… (paras. 1-4). [13] In relation to the same policy undertaken with Canada, the Trump administration began a very dangerous strategy against its territorial neighbors, with the following actions: declaring Mexican drug cartels as terrorist groups (knowing how the U.S. has manipulated the concept of terrorism to justify military interventions), implementing migrant deportation policies, waging a fight against fentanyl, and additionally launching a tariff war with both Mexico and Canada. It has also reiterated its intention to annex Greenland, accompanied by threats of tariffs and a trade war against Denmark and other EU countries, including undermining the existence of NATO. All the above is carried out under the close advice and influence of the AFPI, clearly reflected in its supremacist doctrinal positions and aspirations to create a large imperialist nation. An example of these ambitions has been openly published by various international media outlets, including the news channel FRANCE24. In this outlet, Blandón (2025) refers to the following: During a meeting with NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte, U.S. President Donald Trump reiterated that control of Greenland is necessary to improve international security, while once again confirming his interest in annexing this territory… Outgoing Greenland Prime Minister Mute Egede responded on the social network Facebook: “The U.S. president has once again raised the idea of annexing us. Enough is enough!”, and added that he will call on the leaders of all parties to convince them to prevent it… (paras. 1, 2).   In other words, it is appropriate to infer that the direction and intentionality of the foreign policy of the new Trump administration is aimed at territorial expansionism and the promotion of proxy control of global territorial governance, supported by the “Donroe Doctrine” and enhanced through the use and development of Persuasive Technology, aligned with a global strategic agenda (influenced by the AFPI), which seeks to counter the strengthening of a multipolar world and perpetuate U.S. imperialist hegemony under a global supremacy fundamentalism. CELAC as a Geopolitical Counterweight to the Real Threat of the U.S. and Its New Imperialist Format for Hegemonic Survival The Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC), as an intergovernmental organization, currently acquires strategic value for the entire continent and its sustainable development, within the framework of creating new mechanisms for coordination, cooperation, and regional integration with Africa and Asia — especially China — through the Belt and Road Initiative, considering the entire current geopolitical context where markets play a predominant role in defining internal policies and in directly influencing the strategic agendas of each nation's foreign policy, according to constantly changing global challenges, heightened by the stance adopted by the Global North, led by the U.S., against the Global South, led by BRICS countries. Once the real threat posed by the U.S. has been identified — based on the unipolar geopolitical vision that has characterized the exercise of its foreign policy — this is compounded by the supremacist trend in implementing Unilateral Coercive Measures (UCMs) [14] against free and independent nations that, upholding the principle of self-determination, do not submit to or share the interests of the Anglo-Saxon establishment, promoted by the new U.S. administration. Now then, conducting a prospective analysis of how and on what grounds the U.S. sustains and describes its current hegemonic behavior, it is possible to predict, with certain elements and data, what its courses of action will be — courses that Latin America and the Caribbean, as well as Africa and Asia (especially China), should consider. Among these, the following stand out: Territorial Expansion of the U.S. Trade War The current trade war declared between the U.S., Canada, and Mexico — initially through the reciprocal imposition of tariffs — considering the influence of the AFPI as a U.S. Think Tank, is clearly perceived as territorial expansion, in search of proxy control over territorial governance previously mentioned, of all strategic resources in Latin America and the Caribbean. This comes because of the fiscal, economic, and financial weakening the U.S. is experiencing through the increase of public debt, which is practically unsustainable. In this sense, the actions taken by the Trump administration in appointing certain cabinet positions can be understood to some extent. However, it is curious and at the same time causal that many appointments obey and are related — directly and indirectly — to the training of officials associated with and linked to the AFPI, as part of its strategic objective. An example of this are the words of Colonel Robert Wilkie, co-chair of the Center for American Security, member of the AFPI, quoted by King (2025) in his press article titled “AFPI Welcomes President Trump’s Renewal of the American Dream”, where the following was stated, making direct reference to peace through strength: President Trump proclaimed that America is back, which means our Armed Forces are back: the greatest force for peace in the history of the world. He has restored the highest combat standards so that our soldiers fight, win, and return home to their loved ones as soon as possible. President Trump has restored the place of honor our warriors hold in the hearts and minds of the American people. He has restored America’s deterrent power and told the world that the most powerful words in the language are: “I am an American citizen.” Our borders are stronger, our seas safer, and every wrongdoer knows that the eagle is watching them. (para. 6) The above statement does not set aside its imperialist and supremacist character, denoting the philosophical and doctrinal thinking deeply rooted in the officials who hold government functions at all decision-making levels, promoting pro-U.S. policies that disrespect international law and encourage the establishment of a rules-based world order, with full disregard for the international rule of law. This is, in fact, a very complex and dangerous geopolitical situation, which threatens not only the self-determination of peoples, but also the ability to advance in areas of coordination, cooperation, and integration to achieve the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) adopted in the United Nations 2030 Agenda, to which CELAC countries adhere through the implementation of development plans seeking mutual benefit. Now then, the world order is in permanent change, with a tendency toward the consolidation of a multipolar world because of the crisis of capitalism and the Anglo-Saxon economic model represented in the Bretton Woods System. This situation favors the opening of new mechanisms supported by the multipolarity of international relations, depending on the behavior of the world economy, as a result of the policies of both the U.S. and emerging powers—especially the BRICS countries. However, it is precisely the economic pulse that will redefine the hostile actions of the U.S. in defense of its global hegemonic power, equally and in parallel influenced by the energy capacities of the world powers in conflict — an element that is preponderant in geopolitical influence. An example in this chapter is Russia’s advantage in gas and oil during the Ukrainian conflict. The exponential economic growth of the BRICS compared to the G7 is the clearest expression of the multilateral influence trend of member countries, in line with the multipolarity of international relations, where the geopolitical positioning of both the Global North (G7) and the Global South (BRICS) can be clearly observed. This economic and financial disparity accelerates the weakening of the Bretton Woods System and, consequently, the collapse of the dollar system within the Anglo-Saxon economic model, leading to the loss of hegemonic influence of the Global North countries — especially the U.S. as its main exponent. Other data are relevant when conducting a prospective analysis, with the aim of identifying growth and sustainable development opportunities, as well as understanding the challenges to achieving strategic objectives for comprehensive development by nations. Among the data to consider in the prospective analysis, we have the following chart, associated with excessive global consumption in the 21st century compared to the 20th century:   According to the chart on excessive global consumption, in only six years of progress into the 21st century, modern society has exceeded more than half of what it consumed in the 20th century, with a 75% increase above the average recorded over the last 100 years — a truly alarming percentage with a tendency to increase, as a consequence of economic activity, technological advancement, and the increase of armed conflicts worldwide. Within this context, the U.S. will increasingly seek to influence countries that significantly represent an economic interest in terms of territory, population density, manufacturing and industrial capacity, and geographic position. Through proxy control of territorial governance, it will aim to increase its hegemonic capacity in the economic and financial spheres against its main geopolitical rivals in the struggle for global supremacy — namely Russia and China — whose multipolar geopolitical vision entirely rivals the unipolar geopolitical vision of U.S. foreign policy. Given this scenario, CELAC presents a fundamental characteristic that allows it to move forward as a geopolitical counterweight to the U.S., broken down as follows:Territorial extension: all member countries together cover an enormous territorial space rich in strategic resources, with common areas of influence and mutual interest for sustainable development. Shared future, based on history, language, customs, and other cultural expressions that strengthen Latin American and Caribbean identity, which can be leveraged in the processes of regional consultation, cooperation, and integration with Africa and Asia. The increase in the hostile trend of U.S. foreign policy worldwide will require greater effort from CELAC to advance in consolidating full regional integration. However, the current progress of the intergovernmental organization has been limited to certain and specific areas, namely the economic, cultural, social, and political spheres of its members. Transition toward the Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean States as a strategy for geopolitical counterbalance and sustainable development For CELAC to consolidate itself as a geopolitical counterweight to U.S. hegemonic ambitions in the region, it must be grounded in the exercise of a foreign policy with a multipolar geopolitical vision, compatible with the mutual sustainable development interests of the Global South. In this regard, Palacio de Oteyza (2004), in his essay "The Imperial Image of the New International Order: Is This Political Realism?" states the following: “The second realistic image of the international order, partially compatible with the geoeconomic image, consists of a return to a traditional multipolar system of balance of power, but with a decisive weight given to the military factor. The multipolar system is characterized by the absence of a hegemon and a flexibility of alliances among the great powers, aimed at restraining any potential challenger” [13]. In this context, the geopolitical counterweight that CELAC needs to confront the U.S.’s hegemonic ambitions in the region — and even globally — is regional integration in other areas not currently contemplated by the Community of Nations due to its nature. That is, increasing integration in the military, geographic, and social spheres through the transition toward a confederation of nations would enhance international relations capabilities, contributing to the adoption of deterrent measures for the prevention of armed conflicts and even facilitating its integration into other centers of power with a multipolar geopolitical vision, such as the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), to further strengthen relations with both Russia and China and their respective sustainable development plans. Economic opening and new formulas for regional integration with Africa and Asia An economic opening is the result of the globalization process, the advancement of new technologies, and the effects of the exercise of states’ foreign policies in accordance with their interests and the geopolitical vision they adopt, for geopolitical analysis that enables the identification of risks, threats, and opportunities in the international arena. That said, within the framework of regional integration, CELAC must also prioritize investment sectors for the establishment of common development interests among CELAC, Africa, and Asia. One of the most notable current realities is the fact that the Global South’s economy began systematically, setting challenges and then experiencing growth in less time compared to the growth of the G20, led by the U.S., with China taking the lead according to the percentage value recorded in 2024. In this scenario, CELAC, by reconsidering its transition toward a Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean States, would allow for greater autonomy in its integration into the global architecture implied by the strengthening and consolidation of the BRICS at the global level as an alternative system to the Bretton Woods System. In doing so, advances toward strengthening regional integration — embedded within a new multipolar world, with the combined capabilities of the Global South — can become, more than a reality, a necessity to confront the real threats posed by the U.S., serving as a geopolitical counterweight and a tool for insertion into the multipolar world through continental alliances between Latin America and the Caribbean, with Africa and Asia. Conclusions It was possible to assess the leading role of CELAC and its strategic nature in defending the regional interests of Latin America and the Caribbean, opening a world of opportunities in trade relations with Asia and Africa for the construction of a multipolar world through the promotion of China’s Belt and Road Initiative as an alternative mechanism to confront the U.S. economic war on a global scale and its project to create the so-called “U.S.-CUM”, as part of its foreign policy based on its national security interests. In this regard, in an environment of geopolitical changes and international crisis, as part of the transition process toward the consolidation of a multipolar world, CELAC can promote or drive significant advances aimed at the creation of a Confederation of Latin American and Caribbean Nations (CONLAC) as part of a strategy for integration with Asia and Africa, considering the multipolar geopolitical vision shared by the Global South, where the concept of shared development represents a key point for international dialogue and cooperation — specifically in the economic, social, political, geographic, cultural, environmental, and military spheres. All of this would serve to act as a geopolitical counterweight to the threats and global challenges promoted by the U.S., in the exercise of its unipolar geopolitical vision in foreign policy, of an imperialist, hegemonic, and supremacist nature. Notes [1] Fuente: https://celacinternational.org/projects/[2] Revista Comunicación. Año 45, vol. 33, núm. 1, enero-junio 2024 (pp. 120-133). Fuente: https:// www.scielo.sa.cr/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1659-38202024000100120[3] Conjunto de personas, instituciones y entidades influyentes en la sociedad o en un campo determinado, que procuran mantener y controlar el orden establecido. Fuente: https://dpej.rae. es/lema/establishment[4] https://gaceta.politicas.unam.mx/index.php/poder-estadounidense/[5] https://americafirstpolicy.com/issues/security/national-security-defense[6] https://www.france24.com/es/ee-uu-y-canad%C3%A1/20241126-el-america-first-policy-institute-una-discreta-m%C3%A1quina-de-combate-de-donald-trump[7] https://americafirstpolicy.com/centers/center-for-american-security[8] El poder duro se da cuando un país utiliza medios militares y económicos para influir en el comportamiento o los intereses de otras entidades políticas. Es una forma de poder político a menudo agresiva, es decir, que utiliza la coerción. Su eficacia es máxima cuando una entidad política la impone a otra de menor poder militar o económico. Fuente: https://www. jagranjosh.com/general-knowledge/what-isthe-difference-between-hard-power-and-softpower-1608095574-1[9] https://americafirstpolicy.com/centers/center-for-american-security[10] La tecnología persuasiva está concebida para permitir que los usuarios voluntariamente cambien sus actitudes o comportamientos por medio de la persuasión y la influencia social. Al igual que la tecnología de control, utiliza actuadores y un algoritmo de influencia para ofrecerle información eficaz al usuario. Fuente: https://osha.europa.eu/es/tools-and-resources/eu-osha-thesaurus/term/70213i#:~:text=Context:,ofrecerle%20informaci%C3%B3n%20eficaz%20al%20usuario[11] https://revistas.usfq.edu.ec/index.php/perdebate/article/view/1550/2661[12] Fuente: https://www.cipi.cu/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/1-elaynevalton.pdf[13] https://apnews.com/article/trump-canadagolfo-america-super-bowl-bret-baier-musk-cc8848639493d44770e60e4d125e5a62[14] Medidas Coercitivas Unilaterales.[15] Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, núm. 64, p. 7-28 References Colvin, J. (2025, 9 de febrero). Trump dice que habla en serio al afirmar que Canadá sea el estado 51 de EEUU. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/trump-canada-golfo-america-super-bowl-bret-baier-musk-cc8848639493d44770e60e4d125e5a62Corte, M. (2018, 7 de mayo). Análisis del ‘establishment’ estadounidense. Gaceta UNAM. https://gaceta.politicas.unam.mx/index.php/poder-estadounidense/Guendel Angulo, H. (2024). Escenarios de transición: De la geopolítica mundial unipolar a la multipolar. Revista Comunicación On-line. https://www.scielo.sa.cr/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1659-38202024000100120Palacio de Oteyza, V. (2003). La imagen imperial del nuevo orden internacional: ¿es esto realismo político? Revista CIDOB d’Afers Internacionals, (64), 7-28. https://www.cidob.org/publicaciones/la-imagen-imperial-del-nuevo-orden-internacional-es-esto-realismo-politicoSeibt, S. (2024, 26 de noviembre). El America First Policy Institute, una discreta máquina de "combate" de Donald Trump. France24. https://www.france24.com/es/ee-uu-y-canad%C3%A1/20241126-el-america-first-policy-institute-una-discreta-m%C3%A1quina-de-combate-de-donald-trumpTusa, F., & Durán, M. B. (2019). La era de la desinformación y de las noticias falsas en el ambiente político ecuatoriano de transición. Perdebate. https://revistas.usfq.edu.ec/index.php/perdebate/article/view/1550/2661Valton Legrá, E. (2022). La geopolítica de la tecnología: una visión sistémica. CIPI. https://www.cipi.cu/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/1-elaynevalton.pdfZelada Castedo, A. (2005). Perspectiva histórica del proceso de integración latinoamericana. Revista Ciencia y Cultura, (17), 113-120. Universidad Católica Boliviana San Pablo, La Paz, Bolivia.

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.

When Hezbollah makes headlines, it’s usually in reference to its military entrenchment in southern Lebanon, its alignment with Iran, or its influence on the internal politics of Beirut. Rarely does the Western Hemisphere—let alone South America—enter the discussion. And when it does, the framing tends to follow a familiar arc: Hezbollah, in search of hard currency, has plugged itself into narcotics, smuggling, and money laundering networks across the continent, particularly in the Tri-Border Area of Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina. This framing is not entirely wrong—but it is incomplete. The prevailing analysis treats Hezbollah’s South American activity as an opportunistic extension of its Middle Eastern operations: a way to fund the real action elsewhere (Sánchez-Azuara 2024). But this view underestimates the strategic thinking behind the group’s presence in the region. It also overlooks what Hezbollah has built. This is not a haphazard criminal sideline. It is a strategic redundancy network—a deliberately constructed system that enables Hezbollah to replicate key elements of its logistical, financial, and operational architecture outside the Middle East. In engineering, redundancy is the backbone of resilience. Critical systems—airplanes, power grids, even satellites—include backups not because failure is likely, but because failure must not be catastrophic. Hezbollah has applied this principle to its global infrastructure. In South America, it has established a parallel network that functions as an insurance policy. When borders close in the Levant, when sanctions bite into banks in Beirut, when surveillance escalates in Damascus or Baghdad, Hezbollah’s South American infrastructure absorbs the shock. It keeps the lights on. Quietly. Hezbollah’s footprint in South America must be reinterpreted in light of this logic. Its operations are not merely about funding jihad, nor do they reflect simple criminal diversification. Rather, they represent a strategic adaptation: a forward-looking response to growing constraints in the Middle East and a model of globalized insurgency capable of surviving geopolitical disruption. By embedding itself in regions with weak enforcement, complex diasporas, and pliable state actors, Hezbollah has created a system that mirrors and supplements its core operational capacities in Lebanon. The implications ripple outward to multinational corporations, humanitarian NGOs, diplomatic missions, and financial institutions operating in the Western Hemisphere. More Than a Militia: A Low-Burn Threat with High-Stakes Implications for South America Most strategic planning in the Americas does not seriously account for Hezbollah. But Hezbollah includes the Americas in its strategy—and has for years. Reports by the U.S. State Department, regional intelligence agencies, and investigative journalists have traced its fundraising and logistics operations as far back as the 1980s. The group’s involvement in the 1992 bombing of the Israeli Embassy and the 1994 attack on the AMIA Jewish cultural center in Buenos Aires shocked the region and revealed its operational reach. Yet even after those attacks, Hezbollah’s local infrastructure remained largely untouched. Over time, it adapted—becoming quieter, less kinetic, and more commercially embedded. Today, Hezbollah’s presence in the region extends beyond Argentina. Its operatives and facilitators maintain networks across Paraguay, Brazil, Venezuela, and increasingly, Panama and Chile. In some areas, the group benefits from corrupt municipal officials and overburdened law enforcement. In others, it leverages familial ties within Lebanese diaspora communities—many of which have resided in South America for generations and engage in wholly legitimate commerce. This duality allows Hezbollah to move seamlessly between legal and illegal domains, between visibility and invisibility. What is more, Hezbollah’s activities in South America illustrate a critical shift in how non-state actors pursue durability. The post-9/11 focus on active cells, kinetic operations, and centralized command has obscured the ways in which militant groups evolve under pressure. Hezbollah’s Latin American strategy reflects not just persistence, but future-proofing. It prepares the group to operate, fundraise, and survive—even if Lebanon’s political landscape collapses or U.S. and Israeli countermeasures grow more precise. This is what makes Hezbollah’s Latin American footprint so consequential—and so misunderstood. It does not need to launch attacks from Buenos Aires or Caracas to matter. Its function lies elsewhere: in logistics, in mobility, in backup planning. Its value is latent—until it isn’t. This article reexamines Hezbollah’s presence in South America as a strategic redundancy network—a global infrastructure designed to insulate the organization from volatility in its home region. It maps Hezbollah’s key nodes across the Tri-Border Area, Brazil, and Venezuela; analyzes how this network blends ideology, crime, and strategic depth; and assesses the risks these structures pose to multinational companies, diplomatic missions, and local governance. By shifting the analytical lens from terrorism-as-attack to terrorism-as-infrastructure, we gain a more accurate understanding of Hezbollah’s evolution. We also sharpen our ability to assess long-term risks that don’t always announce themselves through violence. The threat is not just in what Hezbollah does—but in what it has already built. To understand Hezbollah’s long game in South America, we must stop treating its regional footprint as a patchwork of illicit side hustles and begin seeing it for what it is: a modular system, designed to flex and absorb pressure. Its parts do not function in isolation. They interlock—geographically, financially, and politically—to provide resilience against external disruption (Fanusie and Entz 2017). The Tri-Border Area and Venezuela anchor this network. One provides operational depth; the other, state-enabled sanctuary. This networked approach reflects a deliberate organizational logic: decentralization without disintegration. Hezbollah doesn’t need to command every operation from Beirut to exert control. Instead, it builds regional capacities—trusted facilitators, revenue-generating enterprises, covert logistics—that can operate semi-autonomously while remaining ideologically and financially tethered to the core. The value lies in the system’s adaptability. South America’s legal pluralism, infrastructural gaps, and uneven political allegiances allow Hezbollah to embed itself in multiple jurisdictions, each contributing to a broader architecture of operational continuity. The redundancy isn’t accidental—it’s engineered to allow Hezbollah to absorb disruption without systemic collapse. At the confluence of Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina lies the Tri-Border Area, a notorious gray zone where Hezbollah has operated with continuity for over three decades (Marinides 2021). Since the 1990s, the group has leveraged this region’s smuggling economy, its cash-based transactions, and its thin rule of law to generate income and obscure its footprints (Giambertoni March 2025; Singh & Lamar 2024). More than a staging ground, the region functions as a logistical twin to Hezbollah’s Levantine infrastructure: cash businesses, hawala systems, safe houses, and a deep bench of operatives linked by blood, marriage, and communal identity. The Lebanese diaspora, concentrated in cities like Ciudad del Este and Foz do Iguaçu, provides both legitimacy and opacity. While most community members engage in legal commerce, Hezbollah operatives exploit social and familial networks to build financial pipelines and conceal movement. Individuals like Assad Ahmad Barakat—an alleged financier whose web of import-export businesses stretched across Paraguay and Brazil—reveal the sophistication and scale of these operations (BBC 2018). But what makes the Tri-Border Area especially valuable is not just what Hezbollah can do there—it’s what it can replicate. This zone mirrors the group’s operational core: informal financial tools, plausible cover, limited state oversight. It offers a plug-and-play platform that persists even when international pressure tightens elsewhere. If the Tri-Border Area is Hezbollah’s logistical limb, Venezuela is its political lung—a place where the group doesn’t just operate despite the state but, increasingly, through it. Under the leadership of Hugo Chávez and now Nicolás Maduro, Venezuela has extended cover to Hezbollah-linked actors in ways that surpass tolerance and verge on partnership. Evidence abounds. In 2015, reports emerged that Venezuelan authorities had issued passports, national ID cards, and even birth certificates to individuals with suspected ties to Hezbollah and other extremist groups (Humire 2020). These documents grant mobility across Latin America and even into Europe. Meanwhile, direct flights between Caracas and Tehran—often operated by Iran’s Mahan Air, a U.S.-sanctioned airline with alleged ties to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps—further illustrate the depth of coordination. Financial networks also interlace. Venezuelan state-owned banks, particularly under Chávez, were reportedly used to move funds on behalf of Hezbollah-aligned entities, sometimes in cooperation with Lebanese banks later implicated in terror financing (Testimony, U.S. Congress 2011). This alignment is less ideological than pragmatic: Hezbollah gains security, access, and mobility; Venezuela gains a partner in sanctions circumvention and international leverage. Crucially, Venezuela adds a layer of strategic camouflage to Hezbollah’s hemispheric model. While the TBA offers discretion, Caracas offers impunity (Berg 2022). The group can move assets, people, and ideas through Venezuelan channels under the guise of diplomatic exchanges or dual-national transactions. This is state-enabled redundancy: not merely a lack of enforcement, but the active insulation of Hezbollah’s operational flexibility. Together, these zones demonstrate that Hezbollah’s South American presence is not improvised—it is layered. When Argentine prosecutors expose a cell in Buenos Aires, networks in São Paulo remain untouched. When Brazil clamps down on a hawala chain, cash still flows through real estate deals in Caracas. The system is designed to endure partial failure, the way cloud computing routes around downed servers or insurgent groups retreat into sympathetic terrain. The architecture matters because it reveals the logic behind Hezbollah’s global adaptation. This is not a franchise operation outsourced to disconnected local actors. It is a strategic mesh that functions like a second operating system: invisible unless you’re looking for it, vital when the primary network goes offline. And increasingly, Hezbollah seems to assume that its primary network will face pressure—from war, collapse, sanctions, or surveillance. Its bet on South America is a bet on resilience: that geography, corruption, and complexity will give it space to breathe, to rebuild, to persist (Vianna de Azevedo 2018). If Hezbollah’s operations in South America offer strategic redundancy, then its model of action is what enables that redundancy to function. Hezbollah is no longer simply a militant group with a sideline in organized crime—it is a criminal-security complex, able to blend ideological loyalty, transnational finance, and illicit commerce into a coherent infrastructure. This hybridization is not an accident of globalization. It is an intentional adaptation: a convergence of warfighting, financing, and shadow governance designed to give the group longevity across regions and regimes. The group’s operations across South America exemplify this logic. Hezbollah traffics in cocaine not because it is drifting ideologically, but because narcotrafficking enables financial independence (Cengiz and Pardo-Herrera, 2023). It launders money through construction firms, front charities, and black-market trade not just to enrich itself, but to diversify revenue streams that are otherwise vulnerable to sanctions, asset freezes, and regulatory scrutiny. The criminal activity is not peripheral—it is integral. It funds social services in Lebanon, underwrites salaries, and maintains Hezbollah’s standing as both a state within a state and an actor without borders. Although Hezbollah’s operations in South America often emphasize logistics, finance, and redundancy, this does not mean the group has abandoned violent ambitions in the region. It has a bloody legacy. In more recent years, several planned attacks have been foiled. In 2023, Brazilian police stopped a Hezbollah-linked plot to assassinate Jewish community members in São Paulo (Ottolenghi 2024). In 2024, Peruvian police arrested Majid Azizi, who was linked to Iran’s Quds force and a plan to kill Israelis (Associated Press 2024). These incidents reinforce that Hezbollah’s South American presence is not merely infrastructural—it remains strategically capable of violence, should conditions allow or directives come from the group’s central leadership. Critically, Hezbollah’s integration into South America’s illicit economies also offers another layer of camouflage. In regions like the Tri-Border Area or peri-urban zones of São Paulo and Caracas, Hezbollah-linked actors look indistinguishable from the broader ecology of criminality—traffickers, smugglers, forgers, corrupt customs agents. This horizontal integration into shared logistics chains, financial systems, and market ecosystems makes it harder to isolate and disrupt Hezbollah’s footprint without simultaneously challenging broader organized crime structures. The result is a kind of strategic opacity: Hezbollah disappears not by hiding, but by blending in. For multinational corporations, humanitarian NGOs, and diplomatic missions operating in South America, this criminal-security complex presents a growing, if largely unacknowledged, threat. The risk does not lie in direct targeting—there is little evidence that Hezbollah seeks to attack Western firms or consulates on South American soil. Rather, the danger lies in proximity and entanglement (Giambertoni April 2025). Financial institutions may unwittingly process laundered money that ultimately funds Hezbollah’s activities. Logistics companies may contract with Hezbollah-linked freight operators (FinCEN 2024). NGOs operating in diaspora communities may encounter pressure, coercion, or exploitation. Extractive industries—especially in energy, mining, and infrastructure—face particular exposure (Chehayeb 2023). These sectors rely on subcontractors, regional supply chains, and informal agreements that can overlap with Hezbollah’s facilitation networks. The opacity of ownership structures in some Latin American business environments makes it difficult to know where one entity ends and another begins. A subcontractor in Brazil with access to port logistics might also be part of a shell company system that channels funds back to Beirut. A bonded warehouse in Ciudad del Este may function both as a legitimate import hub and a conduit for hawala-based financing tied to Hezbollah’s broader network. For diplomats, the risks are different but no less concerning. In states with fragile institutions or politicized security services—such as Venezuela or parts of Paraguay—Hezbollah-linked actors may enjoy informal protection from scrutiny. Intelligence-sharing becomes inconsistent. Local officials may be compromised. Embassies may be surveilled—not just by hostile governments, but by non-state actors with access to state resources (Giambertoni March 2025). In these contexts, the lines between criminal enterprise, political patronage, and extremist logistics begin to blur. These risks remain under-assessed. Most private-sector risk management strategies focus on regulatory compliance, physical security, and reputational threats. Few include Hezbollah in their risk matrix—particularly outside of the Middle East. Similarly, many Western diplomatic missions in Latin America treat terrorism as a foreign concern, rather than an embedded dimension of local security dynamics. This leaves a strategic blind spot: a low-visibility, high-impact network capable of exerting pressure not through acts of violence, but through slow, systemic infiltration of commerce, finance, and institutional space. Hezbollah’s strength lies not only in its weapons, but in its ability to move undetected through legal and illegal spheres (Realuyo 2023). Its South American network functions because it is underestimated—because it doesn’t look like a threat until it’s too late. For governments and global businesses alike, failing to recognize this hybrid model is not just an analytical error. It is a real vulnerability. Policy Recommendations If Hezbollah’s operations in South America represent a strategic redundancy network, then our policy responses must move beyond traditional counterterrorism frameworks. We can no longer afford to treat Hezbollah as a regionally bounded threat or assume that the absence of direct attacks in the Western Hemisphere equates to the absence of risk (Williams & Quincoses 2019). What’s needed is a recalibration of threat assessment tools—across intelligence, diplomacy, and corporate risk management—that recognizes Hezbollah’s global infrastructure as a durable, layered, and often latent system of power. Four policy recommendations are set out below. (1) Reframe Counterterrorism to Include Redundancy Networks. Current counterterrorism paradigms often emphasize active cells, plots, and kinetic capability. But Hezbollah’s South American presence thrives in the space between categories—not as an imminent military threat, but as a strategic platform for financing, mobility, and long-term resilience. Intelligence agencies and regional policymakers should explicitly include redundancy mapping in their threat assessments. This means tracing not only individual actors but also financial pipelines, logistics corridors, and diaspora-based facilitation networks.Tools developed to combat transnational organized crime—such as financial intelligence units, sanctions compliance structures, and asset-tracing software—should be integrated into counterterrorism workflows. This is particularly important in countries with weak institutional capacity. Regional partnerships, including within the Organization of American States, should prioritize shared methodologies for identifying overlapping illicit economies that enable both criminal and extremist actors to operate with impunity. (2) Build Strategic Partnerships with the Private Sector. Hezbollah’s infrastructure often intersects with legitimate commercial activities: shipping, construction, hospitality, real estate. As such, private sector actors—including banks, insurers, freight companies, and law firms—are essential stakeholders in any meaningful containment strategy. Governments should expand existing public-private initiatives, like those managed through financial transparency task forces and corporate compliance alliances, to include modules specific to extremist logistics and terrorism-financing risk in the Americas.This also means equipping multinational corporations with the right conceptual frameworks. Current risk matrices focus on political instability, cyber threats, and reputational harm. Few companies assess whether their contractors, vendors, or local partners may serve as inadvertent facilitators of a terrorist redundancy system. Governments can assist by anonymizing and sharing case studies, refining due diligence protocols, and funding third-party investigative work through credible local partners and NGOs. (3) Close Gaps in International and Interagency Coordination. Despite ample documentation of Hezbollah’s activities in the region, international coordination remains ad hoc and episodic. U.S., European, and Latin American enforcement agencies often operate on different threat models, timelines, and political sensitivities. For example, while the U.S. Treasury has sanctioned several Hezbollah-linked individuals and entities in Paraguay and Brazil, host governments have sometimes been reluctant to pursue follow-up action due to domestic constraints or regional geopolitics.To close these gaps, threat fusion centers and regional counterterrorism dialogues must prioritize cross-agency and cross-border approaches. This includes better integration of customs, immigration, and financial enforcement authorities—not just traditional intelligence bodies. Multilateral cooperation should also include non-traditional allies, such as financial technology platforms, compliance software firms, and investigative journalists, all of whom bring unique capabilities to mapping and disrupting Hezbollah’s hemispheric infrastructure. (4) Recognize the Role of State Complicity and Use Diplomatic Leverage Accordingly. Where Hezbollah has flourished, state complicity or neglect has often played a role. Venezuela’s documented provision of false identification documents and banking channels illustrates how strategic partnerships—whether ideological or transactional—can deepen terrorist networks’ resilience. The United States and its allies must tailor their diplomatic messaging and aid strategies accordingly, making clear that support for terrorist-enabling behavior comes with long-term costs.Sanctions regimes must be selective but targeted. Blanket restrictions can alienate host populations and drive illicit actors further underground, while targeted designations—such as those aimed at specific facilitators or entities—can disrupt network nodes without provoking state backlash. Where possible, quiet diplomacy should accompany enforcement, ensuring that pressure is matched by the offer of capacity-building or reputational incentives for cooperation. A smarter approach to Hezbollah’s South American infrastructure doesn’t require new tools so much as a new lens. This is not a traditional terrorist threat—it is a system of persistence, one that blends into markets, moves through paperwork, and grows in spaces where governance is uneven (Biersteker 2016). If left unchallenged, it will not just endure. It will adapt. Conclusion: The Quiet Power of a Backup Plan Hezbollah’s presence in South America is not incidental, improvised, or peripheral. It is engineered. For decades, the group has invested in a hemispheric infrastructure that does not rely on violence to assert its importance. Instead, it does something more dangerous in the long run: it endures. By embedding itself in transnational supply chains, black-market economies, diaspora communities, and state-permissive jurisdictions, Hezbollah has constructed a strategic redundancy network—a system designed not for visibility, but for survivability. This network operates on a different frequency from the one to which most counterterrorism frameworks are attuned. It does not seek attention. It does not announce itself through spectacular attacks. It functions in latency—ready to fund, shelter, transport, or regenerate Hezbollah’s central operations when other routes are disrupted. Like any sophisticated backup system, it exists precisely because failure elsewhere is assumed to be inevitable. The danger lies in underestimating this architecture. Policy models that focus solely on immediate threats—explosives, plots, active cells—miss the strategic significance of a group that is thinking in decades, not news cycles. Hezbollah has learned to operate across borders, sectors, and enforcement regimes. It has turned globalization into a defensive perimeter. And it has done so largely beneath the radar of both policymakers and corporate risk officers. To respond, we must broaden our conception of what constitutes a threat. Hezbollah’s South American operations do not simply reflect a terrorist group looking for cash—they reflect a networked actor preparing for disruption, building flexibility into its geography, financial systems, and political alliances. This demands more than sporadic sanctions or headline-driven crackdowns. It requires an integrated strategy that sees terrorist groups not only as fighters or financiers, but as strategic planners. The lesson of Hezbollah in South America is not that terrorism has gone quiet—it’s that it has gone infrastructure-first. If we continue to ignore the scaffolding in favor of the storm, we will continue to be surprised not by what Hezbollah does—but by how ready it is when the time comes. ReferencesBiersteker, Thomas J. 2016. “The effectiveness of United Nations targeted sanctions.” In Targeted Sanctions: The Impacts and Effectiveness of United Nations Action. Edited by Thomas J. Biersteker, Sue E. Eckert, and Marcos Tourinho. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.Berg, Ryan. “Venezuela’s Mystery Plane Shows Iran’s Strategic Penetration of Latin America,” U.S. Army, Training and Doctrine Command G-2, Foreign Military Studies Office, July 1, 2022.Cengiz, Mahmut, and Camilo Pardo-Herrera. “Hezbollah’s Global Networks and Latin American Cocaine Trade,” Small Wars Journal, April 26, 2023.Chehayeb, Kareem. “US sanctions Lebanon-South America network accused of financing Hezbollah.” Associated Press. September 12, 2023. https://apnews.com/article/lebanon-sanctions-hezbollah-ofac-c1e66bb0941ee01832aafbcc448856ceFanusie, Yaya J., and Alex Entz. “Hezbollah Financial Assessment,” Terror Finance Briefing Book, Foundation for Defense of Democracies, Center on Sanctions and Illicit Finance, September 2017.“FinCEN Alert to Financial Institutions to Counter Financing of Hizballah and its Terrorist Activities.” U.S. Treasury Financial Crimes Enforcement Network. October 23, 2024. https://www.fincen.gov/sites/default/files/shared/FinCEN-Alert-Hizballah-Alert-508C.pdfGiambertoni, Marzia. “Hezbollah’s Networks in Latin America.” RAND. March 31, 2025. https://www.rand.org/pubs/perspectives/PEA3585-1.htmlGiambertoni, Marzia. “Hezbollah’s Network on America’s Southern Doorstep.” RAND. April 1, 2025. https://www.rand.org/pubs/commentary/2025/04/hezbollahs-network-on-americas-southern-doorstep.html“‘Hezbollah treasurer’ Barakat arrested in Brazil border city.” BBC. September 21, 2018. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-45610738Humire, Joseph B. 2020. “The Maduro-Hezbollah Nexus: How Iran-backed Networks Prop up the Venezuelan Regime.” The Atlantic Council. https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/in-depth-research-reports/issue-brief/the-maduro-hezbollah-nexus-how-iran-backed-networks-prop-up-the-venezuelan-regime/“Judge orders preventative detention for Iranian and 2 Peruvians in thwarted plot to kill Israelis.” Associated Press. April 24, 2024. https://apnews.com/article/peru-iran-killing-plot-detention-israeli-b89d6b69b182feafb96b44cbdefa190aMarinides, Demetrios. “Hezbollah in Latin America: A Potential Grey Zone Player in Great Power Competition.” William J. Perry Center for Hemispheric Defense Studies, National Defense University, September 2021.Ottolenghi, Emanuele. 2024. “Hezbollah Terror Plot in Brazil.” International Institute for Counter-Terrorism. https://ict.org.il/hezbollah-terror-plot-in-brazil/Realuyo, Celina B. “Rising Concerns about Hezbollah in Latin America Amid Middle East Conflict.” Weekly Asado. Wilson Center. December 1, 2023. https://www.wilsoncenter.org/blog-post/rising-concerns-about-hezbollah-latin-america-amid-middle-east-conflictSánchez-Azuara, Raúl. “Hezbollah, Entrenched in Latin America,” Diálogo Américas, March 15, 2024.Singh, Rasmi, and Jorge Lamar. “Underworld Crossroads: Dark Networks and Global Illicit Trade in the Tri-border Area Between Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay.” Small Wars Journal. August 6, 2024. https://smallwarsjournal.com/2024/08/06/underworld-crossroads-dark-networks-and-global-illicit-trade-tri-border-area-between/Vianna de Azevedo, Christian. 2018. “Venezuela’s toxic relations with Iran and Hezbollah: An avenue of violence, crime, corruption and terrorism.” Revista Brasileira de Ciências Policiais 9(1): 43-90.Williams, Phil, and Sandra Quincoses. 2019. “The Evolution of Threat Networks in Latin America.” Jack D. Gordon Institute for Public Policy. Florida International University. https://gordoninstitute.fiu.edu/research/research-publications/evolution-of-threat-networks-in-latam.pdf

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

Where is the "East" for Russia? This is the central question of the "pivot to the East" policy. Throughout Russian history, the debate over East and West has never ceased, embodied most clearly in the opposition between Slavophiles and Westernizers. Their discussion unfolded mainly within the framework of the "East–West" problem. However, it would likely be incorrect to view their debate through the lens of today’s understanding of East and West. The "East", as understood by the Slavophiles, was not Asia in the usual sense of the word—neither geographically nor culturally. The Slavophiles called for a "return to Asia," but by "Asia" they meant Slavic civilization in contrast to Europe, in other words, Russia itself—not the East Asian Confucian civilization led by China. They argued that Russia’s traditions and history were distinct from those of Europe and self-sufficient, and that Russia should follow its own path—one that is Slavic, not Asian. Moreover, the Slavophiles did not consider Russia part of Asian civilization. The views of Slavophiles and Westernizers on whether Russia belongs to Europe are diametrically opposed, but on the question of whether Russia belongs to Asia, their opinions coincide: neither considered Russia to be part of Asian civilization. Thus, the subject of their debate does not lie in choosing between Europe and Asia, but in choosing between Europe and Russia. In the context of their dispute, the "East" refers to the Asian part of Russia and Russia itself. Russian Eurasianism emerged in the 1920s and, according to its ideas, Russia has both European and Asian features but is neither Europe nor Asia. Instead, it represents a “closed and complete geographic, economic, and ethnic whole” [1]. In other words, from the point of view of Eurasianist philosophy, Russia was seen as a unique civilization — a notion that echoes Slavophile thinking. After the collapse of the USSR, neo-Eurasianism appeared in Russia, which includes various strands. Unlike classical Eurasianism, neo-Eurasianism goes beyond theoretical discussion and has a practical orientation. When the former Soviet republics began gaining independence, neo-Eurasianism also started to carry certain political and geopolitical meanings. The idea of Eurasia’s self-sufficiency was inherited from classical Eurasianism. Thus, neither Slavophilism, nor Westernism, nor Eurasianism actually turns to Asia. Westernism is by nature outward-looking and advocates integration with Europe. Slavophilism and Eurasianism are inward-oriented, calling for a return to one's roots. How, then, did the turn to the East happen if none of these major currents focused on Asia? Does this not present a contradiction? In fact, there is no contradiction. The essence of the debate among Russian intellectual traditions concerns the characteristics of Russian civilization and its development path, while the pivot to the East relates primarily to foreign relations and external policy. In the first case, it is about the spiritual East and West — or the civilizational and cultural East and West. In the second, it is about the East and West in terms of international relations, where specific countries and regions matter more than the civilizations they belong to. There is no conflict between these two planes: the first one emphasizes the civilizational position of the country, while the second concerns the direction of its foreign policy. Civilizational position and diplomatic position are not the same. The civilizational position of a country reflects its value system and spiritual orientation. The diplomatic position reflects key aspects of its foreign policy at a given moment. The civilizational aspect influences foreign policy, but it does not determine a permanent shift in foreign policy priorities. A country’s official foreign policy is shaped not only by its civilizational identity, but also by its actual political, economic, and security interests. The last factor usually plays a decisive role in a complex international environment. The civilizational position is also not necessarily closely tied to interstate relations. Although Russia belongs to European civilization, this does not mean that its relations with Western countries will necessarily be better or worse than with non-Western ones. In practice, many of Russia’s friendly relations are with non-Western countries, while it has very few friends among Western states. The historical context of Russia’s pivot to the East. Russia’s modern pivot to the East is not the first in the country’s history. It should be noted that throughout the history of Russian foreign policy, the meaning of the term “East” has changed from one era to another. As a rule, the East was understood to mean Asia — geographically separate from Europe and culturally different from it. However, in different contexts, the meaning of “East” varies significantly. Typically, the East refers to the Asian region surrounding Russia — not only geographically to the east of the country (such as China and East Asia), but also in a broader sense. Culturally, the East was perceived as a non-Christian region: the Ottoman Empire, the Caucasus, the Qing Empire, and the Central Asian khanates — all of these were outside the Christian cultural sphere. The Russian language includes a popular expression: “The East is a delicate matter.” This phrase comes from the main character of the Soviet film White Sun of the Desert, Red Army soldier Fyodor Sukhov. His line became a well-known saying used to describe the East. In this context, “the East” refers to Central Asia, which apparently was part of the “East” in the Russian mindset of the 1920s (i.e., the time in which the film is set). However, Central Asia is not part of the current concept of the “pivot to the East.” It is often said that Russia has turned to the East many times, but there is no consensus on when this first occurred. Even during the imperial period, the East was an important direction in Russian foreign policy — the Ottoman Empire and the Caucasus were an inseparable part of this eastern vector [2]. After the 16th century, Russia continued to focus on the East by developing relations with the Ottoman Empire, the Chinese Qing Empire, the Central Asian khanates, and others. Emperor Peter I not only “opened a window to Europe,” but also paid significant attention to the East. In 1716, he ordered a military expedition to Khiva and Bukhara, although it ended unsuccessfully [3]. From the late 17th century onward, ten Russo-Turkish wars were fought over more than 200 years. And although the Ottoman Empire was considered part of the East, the regions where the wars were fought — the Caucasus, Lower Volga, Crimea, Western Ukraine, Moldova, Bessarabia, Istanbul, and the Balkans — are today typically viewed as part of the West. These warm, fertile regions close to Europe cannot be called the East in the true sense of the word. Indeed, this was a major shift in Russian foreign policy, but it was not a pivot to the East — it was more accurately a pivot from the North to the South. Since the Middle Ages, the Grand Duchy of Moscow had exported furs and timber through the Baltic Sea in the north. However, this alone was not enough, and Russia came to understand that in order to become a powerful state, it needed to look southward and gain access to the Black Sea. The development of this southern foreign policy reached its peak during the reign of Catherine II (1762–1796) and continued up until the start of the Crimean War (1853–1856) [4]. Some researchers believe that Russia’s first true pivot to the East began in the late 19th century and was closely associated with the name of Count Sergei Witte. During the reigns of Emperors Alexander III (1881–1894) and Nicholas II (1894–1917), Witte held several high-ranking positions in government: Minister of Transport, Minister of Finance, Chairman of the Council of Ministers, and Chairman of the Committee of Ministers. Thanks to Witte’s efforts, the pivot to the East was formalized as an economic, trade-investment, and transport-logistics strategy. He supported the idea of building the Trans-Siberian Railway; under him, the construction of the Chinese Eastern Railway — stretching from northeastern China to Vladivostok — was planned and completed; and the Russo-Chinese Bank was created in connection with this project. Although Witte’s plans were not fully realized, he was the first to propose a clear eastern strategy. Some scholars argue that until the late 19th century, Russia did not have a clearly formulated strategy toward Asia. Many significant Russian actions in Central Asia and the Far East were not directed from the top but were undertaken independently on the ground. When these expansionist actions succeeded, the imperial government not only acknowledged them but also accepted their outcomes. For example, under the Treaty of Nerchinsk (1689) between Russia and China, the Amur River basin (Heilongjiang in Chinese) belonged to China. Even before the Crimean War, Russian troops were already present in that territory, taking control of settlements and establishing outposts. Although the imperial authorities understood that this violated the bilateral treaty and encroached on Chinese territory, Emperor Nicholas I (1825–1855) famously declared: “A Russian flag once raised must never be lowered.” [5] There is also an opinion that Russia’s first pivot to the East took place in the early years of the Soviet Union and was reflected in the foreign policy of People’s Commissar for Foreign Affairs Georgy Chicherin. The author is convinced that the first pivot of Russia to the East — in the modern sense of the term — occurred after the end of the Crimean War and continued until the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905). The eastern strategy proposed by Sergei Witte emerged precisely during this period [6]. The main content of this first pivot to the East was territorial expansion and colonization of the East, while economic interests played a secondary role. Central Asia, the Far East, and the Caucasus were the primary directions. As a result, Russia took control of the Caucasus in the west, conquered all of Central Asia in the south, and expanded its influence eastward to the Pacific coast. Russia had already been present in Central Asia in the early 18th century, and by the time of the Crimean War had penetrated deeper into the region — for example, the Vernoye Fortress was built by Russian troops in 1854–1855, which became the foundation for the city of Verny (modern-day Almaty). After the Crimean War, in order to be able to deter a potential war with Britain in Central Asia, a strategy of southward advancement was adopted. This strategy involved the incorporation of parts of Central Asia, the conquest of Turkestan and the Central Asian steppes, and approaching the borders of Afghanistan. The development of this strategy was assigned by the emperor to Colonel N.P. Ignatiev [7]. During Russia’s advance in Central Asia, expansion and colonization became an end in themselves, while the goal of containing Britain faded into the background. From 1858, under the command of General M.G. Cherniaev — whom the press dubbed the "Yermak of the 19th century" — Turkestan was annexed, and the cities of Chimkent, Semipalatinsk, Tashkent, and others were captured. In 1867, the Turkestan Governor-Generalship was established, led by K.P. Kaufman, who had previously served as the Vilna Governor-General. In the following years, the Bukhara Emirate, the Khanates of Khiva and Kokand came under Kaufman’s control. At that point, the Russian conquests and colonization of Central Asia were effectively completed. China became the most important direction of this wave of the "pivot to the East." Several years after the Crimean War, taking advantage of the situation in which Beijing was occupied by British and French troops and internal unrest was growing, Russia forced the Qing government to sign a series of treaties. As a result, China lost over 1.5 million square kilometers of land in the northeast and northwest of the country. The person responsible for this was the Russian Empire’s envoy to China, N.P. Ignatiev. Russia’s advance eastward did not stop there. It crossed the Amur River, moved into northeast China, and attempted to annex all of Manchuria by realizing the idea of “Yellow Russia” [8] — turning this territory into a second Bukhara [9]. This idea ultimately failed, mainly because the great powers entered into disputes and conflicts over dividing spheres of influence in China. In 1896, the Russian Empire and the Qing government signed an alliance treaty (the Aigun Treaty), which included a clause on joint military actions against Japan if it attacked either side or Korea. The treaty also granted Russia the right to build a railway through northeastern Chinese territory — nominally for troop transport in wartime — but in reality it became a tool for implementing the idea of Yellow Russia. In 1897, Germany occupied the port of Qingdao. The Qing government turned to Russia for help. The Russian Empire refused, citing its obligation to help only in case of a Japanese attack, and instead used the opportunity to force the Qing to cede Port Arthur (Lüshun). In 1900, Russia joined the Eight-Nation Alliance and deployed troops in China, which was essentially an act of war. Russia occupied all of northeastern China, and in the 64 villages of Jiangdong, it carried out “numerous cleansings” of the Chinese population. The Russo-Japanese War broke out in 1904–1905 due to the rivalry between Russia and Japan over Manchuria and Korea. The main theater of military operations was northeastern China. After the war, Russia supported the independence of Outer Mongolia, as a result of which China lost control over this territory. It is evident that Russia and China view the history of their bilateral relations — and its key figures — in very different, even opposite ways. In the historical consciousness of the Chinese people, Russo-Chinese relations of that period are seen as part of the "century of humiliation," which brought suffering to China and left deep wounds in the hearts of the Chinese people. The complex history of Russian-Chinese relations includes both dark pages and times of friendship and mutual assistance — particularly the Soviet Union’s military support during the war against Japan (1938–1945) and the large-scale assistance provided after the founding of the PRC (1949). These pages, too, have a lasting place in China’s historical memory. In the nearly half-century that passed since Russia’s first pivot to the East, its expansion in this direction reached its peak, resulting in vast territorial gains and reaching the natural limits of expansion in the Far East and Central Asia. This process culminated in the formation of the eastern borders of the Russian Empire, which remained in place until the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. Modern Pivot to the East Russia's turn to the East now has different content and character. It is often linked to the Ukrainian crisis that broke out in 2014 and the conflict with the West. There is some truth in this, but not completely. The shift was driven by a set of factors: first, the shift of the global political and economic center to the Asia-Pacific region; second, Russia’s need to develop Siberia and the Far East; third, the influence of the international situation. In the early 21st century, the Asia-Pacific became home to many economic powers with growing political and economic influence. This attracted Russia’s attention and pushed it to develop closer ties with Asia-Pacific countries, strengthening its position in the region. This reason has been stated repeatedly by Russian President Vladimir Putin. The development of Siberia and the Far East is a key part of the “turn to the East” policy. All measures in this direction aim at this goal. In 2012, when Putin presented the strategy of turning East, he outlined the goal of developing Siberia and the Far East. These regions are rich in natural resources, which have been sought after since the days of tsarist Russia. This is important not only for the regions themselves but for the entire Russian state. Russia sees the potential of these regions and believes they will be a source of wealth and drive the country's prosperity in the 21st century. In this regard, Vladimir Putin set a priority for the entire 21st century — the development of the Far East. At the IX Eastern Economic Forum in September 2024, he again stressed the importance of developing Siberia and the Far East, saying the future of Russia largely depends on it. There is a gap in development between the western and eastern parts of Russia. A visible socio-economic divide causes problems for both the economy and national security. Siberia and the Far East are vast and rich in resources, but sparsely populated and economically underdeveloped, with outdated infrastructure and population decline. These regions border China, Japan, and South Korea — economically stronger, densely populated countries with high demand for resources. Russia believes that if it does not develop Siberia and the Far East, the economic and social gap between its western and eastern parts will grow, and the population in the eastern regions will shrink. These trends could later deepen regional imbalances and reduce the appeal of these territories for residents, weakening the influence of the political center and risking a loss of control. The Ukrainian crisis played a significant role in Russia’s geopolitical and territorial reorientation. All past turns to the East happened after setbacks in the European direction. The turn in the second half of the 19th century came after the defeat in the Crimean War, and early Soviet eastern development also began due to difficult relations with the West. In such cases, as European powers moved East, Russia, losing chances in the West, turned to the weaker East, which it could dominate more easily. This helped it look away from Europe’s pressure and gain in the East to offset losses in the West. The Ukrainian crisis became the most serious conflict between Russia and the West since the Cold War’s end. It changed their relations fundamentally. The West imposed strict and broad sanctions on Russia after the start of the conflict, cutting almost all political, economic, financial, technological, transport, cultural, sports, educational, and humanitarian ties — something that never happened before in Russia-Europe relations. Even during the Crimean War, Europe did not fully cut economic ties with Russia; trade continued through neutral countries. Now, a wall separates Russia from the West, dividing Europe in two, with almost all European countries on the other side. The shadow of war now looms between Russia and the West. Russia began focusing on the East to break the Western political blockade and replace lost markets and resources in Europe. But this only sped up the turn to the East; it did not cause it, since the policy began before the Ukrainian crisis. The turn to the East has been developed both as a scientific concept and a political strategy in academic circles for a long time. One viewpoint holds that the initiator of this idea was Yevgeny Primakov: in 1996, while serving as Minister of Foreign Affairs, he proposed a corresponding concept. In 2012, the Valdai International Discussion Club published an analytical report titled “Toward the Great Ocean, or the New Globalization of Russia,” which promoted the idea of Russia’s development in the direction of the Asia-Pacific region. The authors of this study — Professor S.A. Karaganov and T.V. Bordachev — are among the most active supporters of the turn to the East and later published a series of reports and articles on the topic to shape public opinion accordingly. Professor A.V. Lukin, a leading Russian expert on China, also published a work on the subject of the turn to the East back in 2014. Many other Russian researchers have written a large number of articles addressing this issue. The state policy of the “turn to the East” was proposed later than the concept itself but also before the start of the Ukrainian crisis. The idea of turning East emerged during the presidency of Dmitry Medvedev (2008–2012). In his 2010 address to the Federal Assembly, he stated that Russia faced the task of regional integration into the Asia-Pacific economic space and that expanding ties with countries in the region was taking on strategic importance. After Vladimir Putin returned to the presidency in 2012, the “turn to the East” strategy took its final form. As already noted, this direction began to be developed in 2012, and in his 2013 address to the Federal Assembly, President Putin used the phrase “Russia’s pivot to the Pacific Ocean,” which essentially means the same as the turn to the East. At different times, the term “turn to the East” has had different meanings in terms of goals and direction. Even within the same period, its content changed and was supplemented depending on circumstances. In Russian foreign policy, the turn to the East was initially seen as a supplement to the Eurocentric direction. Its main function was to reduce dependence on Europe without changing the structure of Eurocentric foreign policy. Until Medvedev’s presidency, this was the ideological content of the turn. Later, the eastern vector in Russia’s foreign policy became as important as the European one, aiming for symmetrical development. After 2012, the balance between the eastern and western directions became the central idea of the turn to the East. With the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict in 2022, the ideological meaning of the turn was adjusted again. As the road to the West was blocked, the turn to the East (including to the Global South) became the only option. In this context, it started to represent the center of gravity and support for Russia’s foreign policy. The turn to the East no longer just balanced the European and Asian directions — it became the main direction of foreign policy, with Europe becoming secondary, at least for the time being. However, in Russian academic circles, there are also more absolutist views on this matter. Some believe that with the beginning of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, the 300-year journey of Russia through Europe, which began with Peter the Great, came to an end. The “window to Europe” closed for a long time, and Russia “returned home” — to the East. This conclusion was drawn a century and a half ago by the great writer Fyodor Dostoevsky: back in the 19th century, he argued that Russia had completed its historical path in Europe and should go its own way. But let us remember that in the early post-Soviet years, Westernism was extremely popular, and Russia rushed into the embrace of the West without hesitation (here the author understands “Westernism” more as admiration for the West). After the September 11 attacks, Russian-American relations quickly warmed, and optimistic forecasts were voiced: Russian society had chosen its path — the European one, and the easing of relations with the U.S. drove “the last nail into the coffin” of Eurasian values. Clearly, that scenario did not work out. Time will tell whether predictions about a final separation between Russia and Europe will come true. However, considering historical events, it seems unlikely. In 1697–1698, Peter the Great organized the Grand Embassy — a diplomatic mission to Europe, and after Russia’s victory in the Great Northern War (1700–1721), the country became a great power and from then on actively participated in European affairs, sometimes as a partner of European states, sometimes as an adversary, but always inseparable from Europe. The current confrontation with Europe is a result of the Russia–Ukraine conflict and sanctions. It is not expected to become the norm in Russia’s foreign policy, as it does not align with the patterns of international politics and economics. The present situation is caused by a political conflict, not by a loss of Europe’s importance to Russia. Europe still matters to Moscow in political, economic, and security terms. Russia and Europe remain connected by geography, culture, and religion. President Vladimir Putin has stated that Russia is still part of European civilization, and Europe is an important player — cutting ties with it would be politically unwise, economically undesirable, and impossible from a security standpoint. Russia–Europe relations may go through different phases, but Russia is a European country and cannot ignore Europe or abandon the development of its European direction. If given the opportunity, it will return to it. Russian scholars argue that both Europe and Asia are key directions in the country’s foreign policy. Russia has always approached both regions based on the need for a multi-vector foreign policy and diversified economic cooperation with its external partners. It is possible to predict that the end of the Russia–Ukraine conflict and the lifting of Western sanctions will be followed by a gradual normalization of relations. After that, business ties between Russia and Europe will slowly begin to recover, although this process may take a long time, and relations may not return to their pre-conflict state. As history shows, when Russia goes too far in one direction — West or East — it eventually turns the other way. The success or failure of the turn to the East can only be judged by the goals it sets for itself. It is no longer just a foreign policy and economic concept, but a comprehensive national development strategy. Therefore, its success should be assessed accordingly. Three key criteria can be identified: socio-economic development of the Far East and Siberia; the degree of Russia's integration into the Asia-Pacific economy; and the strengthening of Russia's discursive power in the Asia-Pacific. Progress in all three areas will indicate success, while setbacks will suggest stagnation or regression. These indicators must be evaluated based on long-term data — short-term results show only temporary trends and are not sufficient to judge the overall effectiveness of the strategy. The turn to the East is a long process, inevitably accompanied by difficulties and setbacks. Russian history shows that each shift in foreign policy direction has taken decades and gone through many ups and downs, sometimes even failures. Yet Russia has always stood up again, showing resilience in pursuing long-term goals. In today’s world, development happens at a faster pace. The completion of the turn to the East cannot wait another hundred years, but structural transformation will still take at least ten years, and success is not guaranteed. Much has been achieved over the past decade, but many challenges remain — most of them within Russia itself. Understanding the East holds intangible but important meaning. In the minds of Russians, especially Westernizers, the East and West are opposites. The West symbolizes civilization and progress, while Asia is seen as barbaric and backward. The word “Aziatchina” in Russian carries negative connotations linked to cultural backwardness, roughness, and lack of civility. Europe, by contrast, is viewed positively — for example, by Vissarion Belinsky: “Everything great, noble, human, and spiritual has risen, grown, flourished, and borne luxurious fruit on European soil.” This perception still exists to some extent and traditionally forms a cultural bias in Russia, especially against modern Asia. Because of this cultural barrier, Russia cannot fully become either a European or an Asian country. To truly become part of Asia, Russia must entirely and objectively rethink its understanding of it. The efficiency of Russian government agencies is extremely important, and that of local governments is even more so. Government institutions at all levels are key to implementing the turn to the East strategy. The enthusiasm and effectiveness of local officials play a large role in determining the success of the strategy. Bureaucratic red tape and apathy can ruin even the most promising programs, while weak governance and corruption can destroy any successful policy. Finding a rational and effective model for the development of Siberia and the Far East is a difficult task. The situation in these regions is unique. Chinese, Japanese, and Korean models do not suit Russian conditions. The global economy is currently undergoing changes, and Russia needs to adapt, take advantage of its strengths, and form its own development path. The internal turn to the East requires innovative development. The task is not simple — to ensure the prosperity of Siberia and the Far East while considering their rich natural resources, underdeveloped infrastructure, labor shortages, limited markets, and small-scale processing and scientific industries. Significant efforts are needed for Vladivostok — the capital of the Far Eastern Federal District — to stand out among Tokyo, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and other regional and global financial, tech, innovation, and logistics hubs. Excluding the energy and defense sectors, Russia will find it difficult to carve out a niche in the Asia-Pacific market, which already has a stable structure, well-defined labor division, and strong competition. Russia will need to demonstrate extraordinary competitiveness to enter the Asia-Pacific market successfully. Attracting foreign investment is an important tool for the development of Siberia and the Far East. However, its application requires greater openness to the outside world, a favorable investment climate, reliable legal guarantees, appropriate political measures, rational tax policy, efficient customs procedures, pragmatic labor policy, and a mentality that views foreign capital positively. State policy must be consistent and coordinated, and there must also be an increase in the awareness of the business community [population — translator's note] about market-based rules of economic cooperation. The Ukrainian crisis contributed to the turn to the East, but at the same time brought unforeseen challenges to its implementation. As a result of tough political and economic Western sanctions, foreign investment opportunities have been greatly reduced. Not only were Western investment channels blocked, but investment from other countries has also become severely limited. Scientific and technological cooperation with many countries cannot proceed due to the threat of Western sanctions. Bilateral trade also faces restrictions, and there are serious difficulties and problems with financial settlements. Changes in the global geopolitical and geoeconomic landscape after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict have affected the original concept of the “turn to the East.” First, the Ukrainian crisis narrowed the geographical scope of this process. Major Asian economic and technological powers — Japan and South Korea — played an important role in the turn to the East, but they imposed sanctions on Russia following the United States, and trade cooperation was suspended. As a result, Japan and South Korea are no longer considered part of the turn to the East, which has created challenges for the strategy. Second, the scale of some important projects associated with the turn had to be reduced. For example, the development of the Northern Sea Route. The Northern Sea Route is a key project in the context of the turn to the East: it is a transport artery connecting East Asia and Europe. It is much shorter than the sea route from East Asia to Europe via the Indian Ocean (Suez Canal), which allows for significantly lower shipping costs and shorter delivery times. With the acceleration of global warming, the navigational period — when the Arctic Ocean can be traveled without an icebreaker — is expected to increase. Completion of transport infrastructure along the Northern Sea Route would change the system of international shipping, bringing economic benefits to Russia and raising its geopolitical and geoeconomic significance. However, after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, European sanctions against Russia blocked transport routes to Europe, putting the functioning of this corridor in question. Now, transportation operates only to Murmansk, which supports Russian-Chinese trade but causes difficulties on the European side. In addition, sanctions impact the construction of infrastructure and icebreaking ships. Despite this, in the long term, the value of the Northern Sea Route as a new Eurasian shipping corridor remains, though the restoration of this function should be expected only after an improvement in Russia–Europe relations. China in the context of the turn to the East Russia’s turn to the East does not mean a turn solely to China — the strategy also includes other Asia-Pacific countries such as India, Vietnam, and Southeast Asian states. Japan and South Korea are temporarily not considered due to sanctions. Russia aims to diversify its relationships in Asia while carefully balancing them with China, given its significant role in the current world order. The turn to the East does not carry emotional weight; it is a state strategy based on national interests and needs, not driven by affection for Asia or China. Some opinions — whether intentional or not — equate the turn to friendship with China, which is an emotional interpretation, though it is true that friendly ties help strengthen cooperation between Russia and China. Nevertheless, China is undoubtedly the main direction of Russia’s turn to the East. China is the world’s second-largest economy, second only to the U.S. in nominal GDP. It is a strategic partner of Russia and the world’s largest exporter. Border regions between the two countries require strengthened economic cooperation. Because of all these factors, China holds a central position in Russia’s eastern strategy. China has vast potential for economic collaboration. Trade relations between Russia and China are actively developing — China has been Russia’s top trading partner for 14 years, though there is still room to grow in bilateral trade. China is one of the largest markets for Russian energy exports: in 2023, Russia exported 107 million tons of oil and 8 million tons of LNG to China. By 2025, gas exports to China are expected to reach 38 billion cubic meters. China is also a key player in Arctic development and the Northern Sea Route. It is the second-largest shareholder in the Yamal LNG project, which involves dozens of Chinese companies. The Northern Sea Route requires significant infrastructure development and a fleet of icebreakers, as well as companies responsible for cargo management. China is involved in all these areas and has the capacity to play a major role in infrastructure development across Siberia and the Russian Far East. It is a global leader in fields such as artificial intelligence, ICT, digital economy, and e-commerce. Expanding bilateral cooperation in these areas is essential for regional development. China is also a major market for Russian agricultural, forestry, and seafood products. Due to geographic proximity, economic interaction between Northeast China and the Russian Far East has become very close, directly impacting the lives of local border populations. Despite the fact that the turn to the East is now an established state strategy, Russian public opinion on it is mixed. The once-popular “China threat,” particularly the fear of demographic expansion, has faded. While some fears remain, they are no longer dominant. These fears stem from various sources. One is deep-seated distrust of China and uncertainty about its intentions — concerns over whether China will be a friend or foe in the future, reflecting a lack of confidence in the long-term trajectory of relations. Another factor is the entrenched ideology of Westernism, which clashes with the turn to the East. Advocates of this worldview believe Russia’s future lies in the West and argue that China cannot provide technologies, equipment, or capital on par with the West. They see the pivot as a last resort after being shut out by the West, with little to gain from it. The greatest concern influencing public opinion is the fear of overdependence on China. Some believe it could result in Russia becoming China’s “junior partner,” a “raw material appendage,” or a vassal of China’s economy; that rising reliance on China’s energy market threatens Russia’s energy security; and that Russia may lose neutrality and freedom of maneuver in a possible conflict between China and Asian nations. At the Eastern Economic Forum in September 2024, a moderator even asked a Chinese delegate what was being done to ensure that Chinese businesses remained in China and did not enter Russia. The various sources of these viewpoints share a common background: the asymmetry in development between Russia and China. A key feature of modern Russian-Chinese relations — which have taken shape since the collapse of the USSR in 1991 — is that China’s growth has outpaced Russia’s. For the first time in over 300 years of bilateral ties (dating to the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689), China has surpassed Russia in national power. In 2023, Russia’s GNP was $2.02 trillion, while China’s reached $17.79 trillion — more than eight times higher. Russia’s per capita GDP is only slightly above China’s: $13,800 vs. $12,600. China’s armed forces outnumber Russia’s, are better equipped with modern weapons, and benefit from higher military spending. In 2022, China’s military budget was about $292.2 billion, compared to Russia’s $86 billion. While China’s budget is much smaller than the U.S.’s $877 billion, it still exceeds Russia’s by more than three times. Since the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, Russia’s military budget has increased annually, mainly to meet the needs of the special military operation. However, when measured in U.S. dollars, this increase has been less noticeable due to the sharp devaluation of the ruble. Adequate military spending is crucial to building a modern and capable army. Technological rivalry lies at the core of modern international competition. China is confidently leading the Fourth Industrial Revolution, which is radically transforming the global landscape. The country produces an enormous variety of goods and is often referred to as the “world’s factory.” It possesses strong investment potential and engages in active investment worldwide, especially in countries participating in the Belt and Road Initiative. Despite encountering challenges and difficulties, China’s steady development trend remains intact. Its capacities in investment, technology, and equipment continue to grow. Due to the vast size of the Chinese economy, the scale of Russian-Chinese economic cooperation is also significant, and its share in Russia’s foreign trade is inevitably increasing. This is a natural and non-negative process. It indicates that economic cooperation is becoming increasingly beneficial and important for both countries. Neither the Russian nor Chinese governments express concern about the scale of economic interaction. On the contrary, both sides believe the full potential of their economic cooperation has yet to be realized. China may not provide Russia with everything that Europe can, but likewise, Europe cannot offer what China can. Both Europe and China have their own economic strengths and weaknesses. Trends show that Chinese technologies can replace European products such as automobiles, high-speed rail, communication systems, alternative energy sources, computers, and mobile phones. Europe, in turn, can only substitute for certain Chinese goods. To gain economic benefits, it's not only investments, equipment, and technologies that matter, but also the ability to purchase essential goods and services from abroad, as well as to earn foreign currency through exports and service trade. In 2023, Russia earned $90.5 billion from energy exports to China, generating considerable economic benefits. Economic cooperation is a relationship of mutual dependence. In such relationships, countries both give and take. The more interdependent they are, the more their interests align and the greater the benefits. The level of interdependence varies between bilateral partnerships. While countries strive to diversify their foreign relations, economic interdependence does not necessarily lead to stagnation. A major trend in the global economy today is increasing interdependence between nations. Globalization, regional integration, and cooperation mechanisms are accelerating this process. Typically, countries seek to expand economic cooperation and deepen ties based on equality for mutual gain. There is indeed a power gap between large and small economies. The same trade volume can have very different weight in economies of different sizes. But this doesn’t imply inequality, nor does it mean that one country becomes the vassal of another. If economic relations between unequal economies were inherently unfair, true economic cooperation would not exist. China is the largest or main trading partner of more than 150 countries, all of which — except the U.S. — have smaller economies. If none of those countries became China’s vassal, then how could Russia, as the world’s fourth or fifth largest economy, become one? The issue of overdependence is complex and relative. On one hand, it can be positive — strengthening ties and increasing benefits. On the other, it can cause negative outcomes like loss of economic sovereignty or national security concerns. But what counts as “overdependence” is hard to define because each country’s relationships are unique. In some cases, economic independence is essential for security; in others, full autonomy isn’t pursued. For example, in the EU, the goal of multilateral relations is to create an economic community where overdependence isn’t considered a problem. Moreover, the conditions under which overdependence emerges can vary and are not always within a country’s control. Overdependence has negative consequences only when relations become antagonistic and countries “weaponize” their economic ties, turning them into tools of sanctions and conflict. The clearest example is the Western sanctions imposed on Russia after the start of the Russia–Ukraine conflict. However, this is not a typical situation in international economic relations. China holds the most prominent position in Russia’s foreign trade structure. In 2023, Russia’s total foreign trade turnover amounted to $710.2 billion, with trade with China accounting for $240 billion — more than 30%. The most important sphere of economic cooperation between the two countries is energy. In 2023, Russia exported 234 million tons of oil, of which 107 million tons (45%) went to China. The same year, Russia’s natural gas exports totaled 139 billion cubic meters, with 34 billion cubic meters (about 25%) going to China. However, these numbers are not stable. They reflect a sharp decline in Russia–Europe trade since the onset of the Russia–Ukraine conflict, a significant drop in Russia’s overall foreign trade, and a rapid rise in trade with China. Influential factors include dramatic changes in the structure of Russia’s energy exports, a reduction in natural gas exports in particular, structural shifts in trade flows, the relegation of the European vector to a secondary role, and the potential suspension of Russian gas supplies to Europe. Still, China remains far from the role once held by Europe in Russia’s foreign trade and energy exports. As great powers, both Russia and China strive to avoid excessive dependence on external players, especially in strategically important areas. This concern is naturally embedded in their national security thinking. In energy, Russia seeks to diversify its export markets, while China aims to diversify its import sources. At the same time, maintaining friendly and stable long-term relations is a necessary condition for developing mutual dependence in a positive and productive direction. Yet whether out of rational caution or political reasoning, the notion of “overdependence” does not accurately describe current Russia–China relations. Modern bilateral economic cooperation is based on objective conditions and internal needs, and most importantly, it brings significant benefits to both countries. After losing its European partners, Russia must urgently complete its pivot to the East and expand its presence in Asian markets — especially in the energy sector, which is of strategic importance. Russia’s current policy agenda prioritizes active development of cooperation with Asian countries, especially energy partners, rather than reducing its scale. Unlike ordinary goods, energy impacts national economic growth and population well-being. Supply and demand in energy create a two-way dependence, not a one-sided one. In this context, fears of overdependence are largely misplaced. Typically, exporters are more proactive than importers. Historically, it is the exporting country that has been more capable of using energy as a political instrument. China has no intention of being a “big brother” to any country, nor of having “little brothers.” This concept is inconsistent with both its political philosophy and policy. The idea of “older and younger brothers” does not align with modern Chinese political thinking. Russia is a proud nation that would never accept the status of a junior partner. China’s relations with its neighbors, regardless of the size of their economies, are based on equality and mutual respect. China never treats them condescendingly or claims seniority. So how could Russia — a global power — become China’s “little brother”? First published in the journal “Russia and the Asia-Pacific.”DOI: 10.24412/1026-8804-2025-2-162-185Trubetskoy, N.S. History. Culture. Language. Moscow: Progress, 1995. p. 258.History of Russian Foreign Policy. 18th Century. Moscow: International Relations, 1998. p. 48.History of the Civilizations of Central Asia. Beijing: China Foreign Translation and Publishing Corporation, 2006. Vol. 5, p. 270.Figes, O. The Crimean War: Forgotten Imperial Conflict. (Translated by Lü Pin and Zhu Zhu). Nanjing: Nanjing University Press, 2022. p. 26.Ayrapetov, O.R. 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. 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Abstract This paper analyzes, from Immanuel Wallerstein's Analysis of the World – System, an introduction, the emergence of the modern world – system, the permanence of the colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system from a decolonial approach. It examines how the center – periphery structure has determined the economic, political and epistemic dynamics at the global level. Through this approach we study how coloniality has influenced the construction of knowledge. It also analyzes the impact of this structure on the recognition of States and the negotiation of international treaties, showing how Western power has conditioned the legitimacy and autonomy of peripheral nations. It also addresses the persistence of the center-periphery logic in local relations, as well as in gender and racial inequality, highlighting the role of anti-systemic movements in the struggle against these structures. It concludes that, although colonial dynamics continue to operate through debt, extractivism and the imposition of political models, decolonial perspectives offer tools to make visible and resist them. Introduction This paper will analyze the dynamics of the current international system based on the work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System” by Immanuel Wallerstein. In it, Wallerstein (2005) argues that the modern capitalist world-system has structured the global order since the 16th century, consolidating a hierarchical division between the center and the periphery. This division has not only shaped economic and political dynamics but has also established patterns of domination and dependency that persist to this day. The colonial expansion of European powers not only guaranteed access to resources and markets but also legitimized a system of exploitation based on racism and the hierarchization of colonized peoples. The decolonial perspective of Walter Mignolo (2013) will be adopted, which posits that this is a political and epistemic project aimed at dismantling the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity. From this framework, the article will analyze how colonial logic continues to operate in the capitalist world-system through the economic and political subordination of the peripheries. It will also examine the impact of the colonial worldview on knowledge production during the 18th and 19th centuries, as well as the reproduction of the center–periphery dynamic in the recognition of states during the 20th century and in the negotiation of international treaties during the 21st century. Likewise, it will address how this dynamic manifests not only internationally but also within local structures, perpetuating inequalities expressed in labor, gender, and racial relations today. This work seeks to provide a critical perspective on the persistence of colonial logic in the modern capitalist world-system, emphasizing the need to rethink power structures from a decolonial perspective that makes visible and vindicates the subaltern voices that have been historically silenced. Development Colonial Logic in the Capitalist World-System In his work “World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction – The Rise of the Modern World-System”, Wallerstein seeks to understand the structure and dynamics of the world-system, taking the 16th century as the starting point —a period when the conquests of the territories we now know as the Americas took place. The colonial period clearly illustrates the core–periphery dynamic (Wallerstein, 2005), as the Spanish, British, and Portuguese empires engaged in the extraction of resources from their colonies, while colonized peoples endured oppression and racism to which they would be condemned for centuries. This oppression brought significant benefits to the modern world-system, as it enabled massive capital accumulation — but exclusively in the core. This was because the colonial process built peripheral economies around the needs of the core, forcing them into subordination to the interests of the global market, generating dependency and underdevelopment. Quijano and Wallerstein (1992) argue that “[…] ethnicity was the inevitable cultural consequence of coloniality. It delineated the social boundaries corresponding to the division of labor” (p. 585). Due to the colonial period, the modern capitalist world-system laid its foundations and strengthened its market-based economic model through racism and hierarchization — circumstances that have legitimized the exploitation and domination of non-European peoples throughout history. Control over the resources of peripheral states by core states has endured to this day, along with the imposition of Western production and consumption models that perpetuate inequality. The colonial period’s greatest legacy remains systemic violence and subalternity. On this basis, it is important to analyze this work from a decolonial perspective. For Walter Mignolo (2013), “decoloniality is not a concept, but a practice and a political, epistemic, and ethical project aimed at disengaging from the colonial matrix of power that sustains Western modernity” (p. 21). This perspective also draws on the notion of epistemic subalternity, which refers to the experiences and knowledge of colonized and subaltern peoples that are rendered invisible, devalued, or reduced to particular cases — without being considered an integral part of the world-system (Mora, 2008). Coloniality in the Construction of Knowledge At the end of the 18th century, the modern university emerged, dividing its studies into two faculties: sciences and humanities. In the 19th century, another division took place within the humanities, opening the space for the study of social sciences, which would later also be split — on one side, those leaning toward scientism, and on the other, toward the humanistic approach. This led to the creation of new disciplines: economics, political science, and sociology (Wallerstein, 2005). These new sciences built their worldview and knowledge construction from a Eurocentric and colonialist perspective, thus assigning labels to peoples different from their own. These new sciences categorized the study of the world’s peoples into three groups. First, civilized peoples — Western nations, considered as such because they believed their social and political organization systems were the most advanced. Second, the high civilizations — India, China, Persia, and the Arab world — classified in this way because they possessed writing, religion, language, and customs. They were regarded as civilized peoples but not modern, under the previously mentioned concept. This category gave rise to orientalist scholars, with a Eurocentric and exoticizing view. Finally, the so-called primitive peoples — those who, from the colonial perspective, lacked writing, religion, language, and customs. This perception of the “uncivilized other” was used to justify colonial processes in the periphery, which even today enable the reproduction of exploitative and racist practices. Segregation in the construction of knowledge, imbued with colonial and Eurocentric thought, is based on criticizing the behavior of these peoples and on what should be changed about them (Zapata, 2008). The Eurocentric conception asserts categorically that the modus vivendi of these peoples is not appropriate according to Western standards. Although this way of thinking has evolved over time, its essence remains the same and has led Western countries to grant themselves the power to change the way of life of these peoples through invasions, neocolonial processes, and violent interventions via military force or economic interference. The Center and the Periphery in the Recognition of States As previously mentioned, Europe established a correspondence between modernity and the West; this includes the institution of the nation-state as its derived product (Zapata, 2008). From the Eurocentric perspective, for civilizations to be considered nation-states, they must possess four characteristics: territory, population, government, and sovereignty. In Public International Law, sovereign states are the main subjects of international relations, and for a state to be recognized as such, it must be acknowledged by the majority of states that are part of the international system. The center–periphery concept operates both economically and politically, which can be observed when a new state seeks recognition from members of the international system. The recognition granted by a state from the center carries more weight than that from the periphery, since states in the center, with greater political and economic capacity, influence the decisions of their allies — both within the center and the periphery. This need for state recognition has been extremely beneficial for the modern capitalist world-system, as political and economic interdependence, along with the perpetuation of power in the countries of the center — particularly those belonging to the West — ensures that they act, whether in matters of state recognition, political agendas, or economic issues, entirely to their own advantage, disregarding the interests of “the other.” From a decolonial perspective, state recognition is a Western construct designed to maintain control over who meets the imposed criteria to belong to the Eurocentric international system. These criteria clearly do not align with the social organization of all non-Western civilizations but were conceived in such a way as to subordinate them to the needs of the world-system, which inevitably serves the interests of Western core states. This can be exemplified by the case of Taiwan. In 1971, the Kuomintang lost recognition from the government of mainland China, and starting in 1985, Taiwan’s government sought to strengthen diplomatic relations with states that already recognized it and to develop relations with those that did not, with the aim of obtaining their approval (Connelly, 2014). Despite the passage of time, recognition of Taiwan as a state by core countries seems inconvenient for them, likely due to the ongoing political dispute between Taiwan and China. As a result, only 14 peripheral states recognize it as such. Despite this, the Northeast Asian country maintains unofficial relations with 47 states and the European Union, for purely economic reasons. The Modern Capitalist World-System in International Treaties It is worth mentioning that the idea of the center–periphery permeates the negotiation of international agreements. As mentioned earlier, the so-called “primitive peoples” were civilizations that, from the Eurocentric perspective of knowledge, lacked writing, religion, languages, or customs. This idea persisted into the 20th century, as reflected in the Statute of the International Court of Justice, which in Chapter II, Article 38, states that “the Court, whose function is to decide in accordance with international law such disputes as are submitted to it, shall apply: […] the general principles of law recognized by civilized nations” (UN, 1945). The Eurocentric conception of a civilized nation in the postwar period was based on the type of government existing in each state. Thus, countries without a democratic political system were not considered civilized nations. This conception forced nations not to determine their own system of government, but rather to adhere to the one imposed by the Western international system in order to be accepted, disregarding their customs and traditions. A more current example of the imposition of Eurocentric ideas on systems of government is the signing of the Free Trade Agreement between the European Union and Mexico in 2000. Ratification of the trade agreement was conditioned on what they called the “democratic clause.” The agreement was not ratified by the Italian government until July 3 of that year, when the presidential elections resulted in the victory of Vicente Fox (Villegas, 2001). On the same day, the European Commission’s spokesperson, Gunnar Wiegand, said in his press release: “A historic vote has taken place in Mexico. The Commission congratulates the Mexican people for exercising their democratic rights in such a mature and exemplary manner” (Caracol Radio, 2000). The spokesperson’s mention of the Mexican people’s maturity refers to the notion that, in the past, the exercise of democracy had not possessed this quality — an observation made from a paternalistic and Eurocentric perspective. Had the election results been different, Mexico could have faced the possibility of the European Union “imposing sanctions as a reaction to the verification of interruptions in democratic processes, which, in addition to affecting development, constitute a threat to international peace and security” (Cordero Galdós, 2002, p. 128). The criticism of the imposition of the “democratic clause” centers on the recurring practice of requiring peripheral states to adapt to the political ideologies and economic needs of the core. The Reproduction of the Center–Periphery Dynamic at the Local Level As mentioned in the development of this work, the effects of colonialism persist across all systems and subsystems through the coloniality of power, knowledge, and being, the latter of which will be addressed later. This is manifested in global inequalities, the exploitation of natural resources in peripheral countries, and the persistence of racist and Eurocentric power structures. From Wallerstein’s perspective, the world-system is a historical structure which, although in constant transformation, reproduces power relations and inequalities over time through the domination of the core and the exploitation of the peripheries (Wallerstein, 2005). Thus, the world-system has evolved in several ways; one of these is the introduction of the term semi-periphery into the analysis. During the colonial period, there were only core and peripheral nations. Over the centuries, however, semi-peripheral states have emerged — nations that not only extract raw materials or engage in manufacturing but also have the capacity to produce cutting-edge technology (Wallerstein, 2005). This positions them in a more privileged place than peripheral countries in the international system. Yet, despite appearing to have overcome the systemic oppression that once kept them in the periphery, the colonial mindset within their institutions perpetuates their subordination to the core. Good examples of semi-peripheral states in Latin America are Mexico and Brazil. Both countries were victims of the exploitation and systemic violence of colonialism. This shaped the development of their societies and economies for centuries. Even after achieving independence and building productive and economic systems that placed them in the semi-periphery, their economic progress was built on a legacy of oppression and racism that continues to reproduce the abuses described. In this way, the concept of core and periphery permeates social and family subsystems. This can be observed in labor relations, where capitalists depend on the core–periphery or superior–subordinate relationship to sustain the production model. It is also evident in social relations, which Wallerstein refers to as anti-systemic movements. Society perpetuates the core–periphery principle by placing women and racialized communities in the periphery, while men — especially white men with power — occupy the core. Anti-systemic movements paved the way for the struggle against these inequalities, giving rise, for example, to feminist and Indigenous movements. These have led to the development of theoretical perspectives such as decolonial feminism, which adds analytical variables to the decolonial perspective. According to Yuderkys Espinosa, it emerges from “[…] a subaltern, non-hegemonic voice […] anti-colonial, anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist. […] Its aim is to question and oppose an imperial and racist rationale” (Barroso, 2014, p. 2). Conclusions The modern capitalist world-system has managed to sustain and expand itself thanks to colonial structures that, far from disappearing with decolonization processes, have mutated and perpetuated dynamics of domination and dependence. As discussed, the core–periphery logic has been key to the organization of the international system, not only in economic terms but also in the construction of knowledge, the legitimization of states, the negotiation of international agreements, and the imposition of political and social models from Western hegemony. The colonial legacy remains in the structural subordination of peripheral economies to the interests of the core, the imposition of international norms that favor core countries, and the persistence of racialized and gender-based inequalities within peripheral states themselves. This scheme has not only ensured capital accumulation in the core but has also limited the self-determination of historically colonized peoples, while normalizing their exclusion from political, economic, and epistemic spheres. At the international level, neocolonialism operates through mechanisms such as external debt, unequal trade agreements, and political interference in the internal affairs of peripheral states. In addition, extractivism and territorial dispossession continue to reproduce colonial logics, affecting both peripheral countries and Indigenous communities as well as other historically marginalized groups. In this sense, the modern capitalist world-system not only perpetuates economic exploitation but also reinforces power structures based on racism, sexism, and subalternity. However, as decolonial perspectives point out, the coloniality of power is not an immutable phenomenon. This approach questions the structures of power and knowledge inherited from colonization, seeking to deconstruct Eurocentric discourses and make visible the voices and experiences of the subaltern. Anti-systemic movements have sought to challenge these structures, reclaiming the agency of subaltern peoples and promoting the construction of alternatives that confront the colonial matrix of power. Particularly, decolonial feminism has emerged as a key critique of the intersection between patriarchy and coloniality, showing how women — especially racialized women — have been relegated to the periphery of the system. Thus, analyzing the world-system from a decolonial perspective allows us not only to understand the continuity of structures of domination but also to recognize the spaces of resistance and contestation that emerge within it. In conclusion, the decolonial perspective enables us to rethink the modern world-system from a critical standpoint, recognizing structural inequalities and the need to transform the power dynamics that perpetuate the domination of the core over the periphery. Decolonialism makes it possible to redefine notions of progress, development, and modernity from a perspective free from colonial stereotypes and hierarchies, recognizing the diversity of knowledge and worldviews of Indigenous peoples. It seeks to decentralize power by rethinking and decolonizing power relations between the core and the periphery, between the state and local communities, aiming for a more equitable distribution of resources and benefits. 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AbstractThe increasing presence of foreign fighters in the armed conflict in Ukraine has posed significant challenges to the application of International Humanitarian Law (IHL). These foreign fighters, often motivated by political, ideological, or religious reasons, do not neatly fit into traditional legal categories such as lawful combatants, civilians, or mercenaries. Their involvement on both sides of the conflict between those supporting either Ukrainian forces or Russian-backed groups, presents a complex issue that requires careful consideration within the context of IHL, which currently lacks clear provisions for addressing their legal status. This study focuses on the research question: Does the involvement of foreign fighters in the armed conflict in Ukraine comply with the principles of International Humanitarian Law? This issue is particularly important as it exposes significant gaps in IHL, revealing its inability to adequately address the complexities of modern armed conflicts involving non-state actors. Employing a juridical-normative approach, this study examines the application of IHL to foreign fighters in the Russia-Ukraine conflict, focusing on their rights, responsibilities, and accountability. The findings show that IHL lacks specific provisions to regulate the legal status of foreign fighters, relying instead on general human rights principles that fail to address their unique circumstances. This creates a legal vacuum, undermining both their protection and the enforcement of accountability for violations. The study concludes that targeted reforms in IHL are urgently needed to establish clear legal standards for the classification, protection, and prosecution of foreign fighters, thereby strengthening the overall humanitarian framework for contemporary armed conflicts.KeywordsForeign fighters, Russia, Armed conflict, Humanitarian law, Ukraine 1. Introduction The Russia-Ukraine conflict, which has been ongoing since Russia's annexation of Crimea in 2014, has escalated into a complex and devastating war. This conflict, deeply rooted in geopolitical tensions, has drawn the attention of the international community, not only due to the implications for regional stability but also for the growing role of foreign fighters. The involvement of foreign fighters in the conflict adds a new layer of complexity to the already volatile situation. These individuals, who join armed conflicts in foreign territories, are often motivated by political, ideological, religious, or financial reasons, and their presence in Ukraine raises serious legal, political, and humanitarian questions (Asya et al., 2024). The role of foreign fighters has become increasingly significant in modern warfare, with their participation often blurring the lines between combatants, civilians, and mercenaries (Anjelika et al., 2024)The primary challenge posed by the involvement of foreign fighters in Ukraine lies in the legal uncertainty surrounding their status under International Humanitarian Law (IHL). IHL, which governs the conduct of armed conflicts and seeks to protect individuals who are not actively participating in hostilities, does not provide clear guidelines for foreign fighters. These fighters, who do not represent a state or recognized party to the conflict, do not neatly fall into categories such as lawful combatants or civilians, making their legal status ambiguous. This creates a gap in the legal framework, complicating the application of IHL to their actions and raising critical questions about accountability, rights, and protections under international law (Alexander, 2023) (see Table 1, Table 2).   The significance of this study stems from the need to address these legal uncertainties and to understand how IHL can be adapted to regulate the involvement of foreign fighters in modern conflicts. Despite the growing prevalence of foreign fighters in conflicts around the world, the existing body of IHL has not sufficiently addressed their status or the challenges they pose to the protection of human rights and the enforcement of accountability (Paulussen, 2021). By focusing specifically on the Ukraine conflict, this study aims to fill a significant gap in current legal scholarship by analyzing the implications of foreign fighters' participation through the lens of IHL. The involvement of foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict has profound implications not only for the legal treatment of these individuals but also for the broader geopolitical context (Idris & Mu'tashim, 2023). Their participation exacerbates tensions between Russia and Western countries, as foreign fighters supporting Ukraine often come from nations with opposing political interests to Russia. This dynamic further complicates diplomatic efforts aimed at resolving the conflict and maintaining international peace. Additionally, the presence of foreign fighters contributes to the growing trend of non-state actors engaging in warfare, challenging traditional notions of state sovereignty and complicating international efforts to regulate armed conflict (Lekatompessy et al., 2024). From a humanitarian perspective, the presence of foreign fighters increases the risks of violations of IHL and human rights, as these individuals may not be subject to the same legal frameworks as state actors. The lack of clear legal provisions for foreign fighters leaves them vulnerable to exploitation, abuse, and violations of their rights, while also creating a situation in which accountability for violations becomes difficult to enforce (Akbar & Sadiawati, 2023). This not only undermines the protection of civilians but also weakens the enforcement of humanitarian norms, further complicating the efforts of international organizations and states to address violations of IHL. This study is particularly important because it seeks to address the legal vacuum that exists concerning foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict. By examining the application of IHL to foreign fighters, this research contributes to the broader field of international law by proposing a more comprehensive framework for regulating their involvement. Through this examination, the study aims to provide concrete recommendations for legal reforms within IHL that would better address the challenges posed by foreign fighters in modern armed conflicts. The rationale for this study lies in the growing recognition that IHL, as it currently stands, is insufficient to address the complexities of modern warfare, particularly when it comes to the participation of non-state actors like foreign fighters. As the world witnesses an increasing number of foreign fighters engaging in conflicts worldwide, it is essential to adapt international legal frameworks to these new realities. This study not only contributes to the understanding of IHL's limitations but also proposes practical legal reforms that could enhance its effectiveness in protecting human rights and ensuring accountability in future conflicts. The involvement of foreign fighters in Ukraine represents a critical point at which the gaps in IHL are laid bare. As such, this study holds significant relevance for policymakers, international legal scholars, and human rights advocates, as it highlights the urgent need for reform and provides insights into how IHL can evolve to better respond to contemporary challenges. By addressing the legal status and accountability of foreign fighters, this study aims to contribute to the development of a more robust and responsive international legal system that can effectively address the complexities of modern warfare and uphold humanitarian principles in the face of emerging threats. 1.1. Literature review Previous research by Akbar and Sadiawati (2023), titled "Analysis of the Russian Invasion of Ukraine in Terms of Humanitarian Law", focuses on examining violations of the 1949 Geneva Conventions during the invasion and emphasizes the role of the United Nations in promoting global peace. The study provides a comprehensive analysis of the international legal framework, particularly humanitarian law, in addressing war crimes and violations committed during the conflict. Similarly, Nasution and Raudia (2022, pp. 361–374), in their article "Analysis of Russian War Violations in the 2022 Ukrainian Conflict Based on the Perspective of International Humanitarian Law", discusses the breaches of humanitarian law committed by Russia during the conflict. Their study highlights key violations under international legal standards and emphasizes the need for accountability based on humanitarian law principles. Masri et al. (2024), in their study titled "Implementation of International Humanitarian Law in the Russia-Ukraine Conflict", explore the application of international humanitarian law (IHL) within the context of the Russia-Ukraine war. Their research delves into how IHL has been enforced and its effectiveness in mitigating harm during the conflict. While these studies extensively analyze IHL violations in the Russia-Ukraine war, they focus primarily on state actors, with limited attention to the role of foreign fighters. This paper fills this gap by analyzing the participation of foreign fighters, their classification under IHL, and the legal protections afforded to them. 1.2. Theoretical framework1.2.1. Theories of state sovereignty and territorial integrity The theory of state sovereignty and territorial integrity originates from classical thinkers like Bodin (2009), Hugo Grotius (1964), and Kant (1991). Bodin defined sovereignty as supreme authority free from external interference, while Grotius emphasized its role as a cornerstone of international law. Kant argued that territorial integrity was vital for peaceful inter-state relations. These principles were codified in Article 2(4) of the UN Charter (1945), prohibiting threats or force against a state's territorial integrity or political independence. In the Russia-Ukraine conflict, these principles are acutely relevant. Russia's annexation of Crimea (2014), support for separatists in Donetsk and Luhansk, and the 2022 invasion breach sovereignty and international law. Moerdijat (2022) highlights these violations' severity, while Pisano (2022) examines their destabilizing effects on regional geopolitics. Thus, this theory offers a legal and analytical lens to assess the conflict's ramifications for the global order. 1.2.2. Theories of international humanitarian law (IHL) The development of IHL stems from contributions by scholars like Jean Pictet, who stressed protecting individuals in conflicts, and Hugo Grotius, whose De Jure Belli ac Pacis advocated for war regulation through moral and legal principles. J.F. Murphy (1982) linked IHL with human rights, Antonio Cassese (2013) explored IHL's role in mitigating human rights violations during war, and Theodor Meron (2006) advanced civilian protections and war crime regulations. These foundations emphasize protecting non-combatants, limiting warfare methods, and clarifying states' obligations. In Ukraine, IHL faces challenges like the ambiguous legal status of foreign fighters. Akbar and Sadiawati (2023) highlight gaps in their protections, while the BBC (2023) reports on the Wagner Group's role in exacerbating violations, such as civilian attacks and disproportionate force. These challenges underscore the need for stricter adherence to IHL to mitigate humanitarian crises and uphold legal standards. 1.2.3. Theories of globalization in modern warfare Theories on globalization's impact on warfare are shaped by thinkers like Mary Kaldor (2013), who contrasts traditional "old wars" with "new wars" involving non-state actors, and Zygmunt Bauman (1998), who links globalization to interconnected dynamics reshaping warfare. Robert D. Kaplan (1994) connects globalization to growing socio-economic inequalities and asymmetric conflicts. These theories argue that globalization's technological, economic, and communicative aspects have transformed war by introducing non-state actors and advanced technologies. The Russia-Ukraine conflict illustrates globalization's role in modern warfare. The participation of foreign fighters, whether aiding Ukraine's International Territorial Defense Legion or Russia's Wagner Group, reflects globalization's influence. Mehra and Thorley (2022) note motivations like ideology and economics, while Chakyan Tang (2022) highlights both solidarity and challenges introduced by non-state actors. Globalization expands conflicts' scope and complexity, complicating regulation while reshaping modern warfare's nature. 2. Methodology This research employs a juridical-normative method using a legal approach to examine the Ukraine-Russia conflict within the framework of International Humanitarian Law (IHL) (Gunawan et al., 2023). The primary objective is to explore how the actions of the parties involved align with the established principles and norms of international law. A juridical-normative approach is used to systematically analyze laws, regulations, and legal principles applicable to the conflict, particularly focusing on how these norms are implemented or potentially violated by the involved actors. The study relies on qualitative normative research methods, which involve document analysis of legal texts and secondary sources to gain a comprehensive understanding of the legal framework governing the conflict. This includes examining court decisions, legal doctrines, international treaties (such as the 1949 Geneva Conventions), and other relevant international instruments. Secondary sources, such as legal theories and expert opinions, also form a key part of the analysis. Through this approach, the research offers a comprehensive analysis of compliance with, or violations of, the principles of International Humanitarian Law (IHL) in the conflict. The document analysis process, as the primary data collection method, incorporates legal hermeneutics to interpret and clarify the meaning of legal texts, ensuring an accurate understanding of their application in the context of the Ukraine conflict. Comparative analysis is also employed to examine how IHL principles have been applied in similar conflicts, providing a benchmark for evaluating their implementation or breach in this case. The analysis focuses on primary legal materials, including treaties, conventions, official communications, and resolutions from international organizations, to establish a foundational understanding of the legal framework. These are complemented by secondary legal materials, such as academic literature, legal commentaries, and expert opinions, which provide critical insights and context. This methodological combination ensures a robust and nuanced evaluation of how IHL principles are being upheld or violated, strengthening the validity and reliability of the findings. 3. Results and discussion3.1. Legal framework for foreign fighters The status of foreign fighters under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) remains contentious and ambiguous. While the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols primarily regulate the conduct of state actors and recognized combatants, they offer limited guidance for non-state participants, such as foreign fighters. These individuals find themselves in a legal gray area, as the Geneva Conventions focus mainly on the protection of civilians and combatants who are part of a state's armed forces or organized resistance groups. Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions and Additional Protocol II extend limited protections to non-state actors involved in non-international armed conflicts, emphasizing humane treatment and prohibiting acts like torture or degrading treatment (M, 2001). However, these provisions do not explicitly address the legal status, rights, or obligations of foreign fighters who may not be formally part of an organized state or non-state armed force. Additional Protocol I further complicates this issue. For example, Article 47 of Protocol I explicitly excludes mercenaries from the status of combatants or prisoners of war (POWs), effectively denying them the legal protections afforded to lawful combatants (Geraldy Diandra Aditya, Soekotjo Hardiwinoto, 2017). This exclusion raises questions regarding the legal status of foreign fighters who may not fit neatly into the categories of lawful combatant, civilian, or unlawful belligerent. As a result, the legal position of foreign fighters in modern armed conflicts, such as the Ukraine-Russia conflict, remains unclear and potentially subject to exploitation or abuse. A table listing key international treaties, conventions, and resolutions relevant to foreign fighters could illustrate the legal tools available for regulating their conduct and holding them accountable. The table could include categories such as. 3.1.1. Legal status and responsibilities of foreign fighters Foreign fighters have become a notable element of modern conflicts, including in Ukraine, where individuals from various countries have joined both sides of the conflict. Their participation raises significant legal and ethical questions, particularly regarding their status under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) and the accountability for their actions. IHL, as defined by the Geneva Conventions and the Hague Conventions, does not explicitly mention "foreign fighters" but provides a legal framework for determining their status based on their activities and allegiance. Foreign fighters are typically categorized as either lawful combatants, unlawful combatants, or civilians, and their rights and responsibilities are governed by the laws of war (Hasan & Haque, 2023). a. Lawful Combatants, foreign fighters who join the armed forces of a state party to the conflict (e.g., Ukraine in the context of the Russian invasion) may be considered lawful combatants. As lawful combatants, they are entitled to the protections of IHL, including protection from being targeted and humane treatment if captured. They are subject to the laws of armed conflict, particularly the Geneva Conventions, and must adhere to principles such as distinction, proportionality, and the prohibition of unnecessary suffering. However, this status is contingent upon them being members of an organized military force that follows IHL regulations.b. Unlawful Combatans, foreign fighters who join non-state armed groups, such as mercenaries or irregular militias not recognized under IHL, are considered unlawful combatants. They are not entitled to the same protections as lawful combatants and may be prosecuted for violations of IHL, including acts that could constitute war crimes. The status of unlawful combatants often leads to challenges in terms of legal accountability, as their actions may not be adequately covered by state-based military tribunals or national courts. International efforts to hold foreign fighters accountable for violations such as the targeting of civilians or the use of prohibited weapons can be complicated by the lack of a clear framework for prosecuting non-state actors.c. Civilians, foreign nationals who participate in the conflict but do not take a direct part in hostilities are considered civilians and are protected by IHL. Their involvement in combat can alter their status, and they may lose their protection from direct targeting once they engage in hostilities. This creates a complex dynamic for the prosecution and accountability of foreign fighters, as their status may change based on their activities in the field. A table that compares the legal status of foreign fighters in different contexts could help clarify the varying rights and responsibilities under International Humanitarian Law (IHL). The table could include categories such as: Here is the map illustrating the geographical origins of foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict, showing their involvement with either the Ukrainian or Russian side. This visual provides a global context to their participation. 3.2. Ukraine's historical struggle: Russia's colonialism and imperialistic attitudes The relationship between Russia and Ukraine stretches back for centuries, characterized by a complex and often turbulent history. From the medieval period to modern times, Ukraine has faced numerous instances of Russian dominance and interference, which has shaped its national identity and its ongoing struggle for independence. This historical context is essential to understanding Ukraine's motivations to fight, as it reflects a long-standing resistance to Russian colonialism and imperialism. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Russia began consolidating its control over Ukrainian territories, particularly after the Treaty of Pereyaslav in 1654, which marked the beginning of Ukrainian subordination to the Tsarist empire (Britannica, 2025). Over the centuries, Ukraine's autonomy was eroded, and it became an integral part of the Russian Empire, with many Ukrainians subjected to harsh policies of Russification. The suppression of Ukrainian culture, language, and national identity under Tsarist rule set the stage for future tensions. The most devastating chapter of this colonial history came under Soviet rule, which exacerbated the sense of Russian imperialism. The Holodomor, a man-made famine in the early 1930s, is one of the darkest episodes in Ukrainian history. Millions of Ukrainians perished as a result of Stalin's policies, which sought to enforce collectivization at the cost of the Ukrainian people. This tragedy has left a lasting scar on the collective memory of Ukraine, fueling a deep-seated distrust of Russia and reinforcing the narrative of Ukrainian victimhood under Russian imperialism. Even after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and Ukraine's declaration of independence, Russia has continually sought to exert influence over Ukraine, often invoking its imperial past to justify intervention. Russia's annexation of Crimea in 2014 and its ongoing military actions in eastern Ukraine are seen by many as a continuation of the imperialistic attitude that has defined Russia's relationship with Ukraine for centuries. Ukraine's motivation to fight in the current conflict is deeply rooted in its desire to protect its sovereignty and preserve its cultural and political independence from Russian influence. This struggle is not just a response to Russia's aggression but a continuation of a centuries-long fight for self-determination, dating back to the period of Tsarist colonialism and reinforced by the Soviet era. The ongoing war represents Ukraine's determination to break free from the chains of Russian imperialism and secure its future as an independent, sovereign nation. 3.3. International humanitarian law review of Russia's armed attack in Ukraine After the Russian annexation of Crimea, tensions in relations between Russia and Ukraine continued until February 2022. These tensions began when NATO sought to expand its membership into Eastern Europe by inviting Ukraine to join as a member (Andi Antara Putra & Dantes, 2022). NATO has expressed its commitment to Ukraine's future membership, stating: "We reaffirm that we will be in a position to extend an invitation to Ukraine to join the Alliance when Allies agree and conditions are met (NATO, 2024b)." This position underscores NATO's openness to Ukraine's membership, contingent upon unanimous agreement among current member states and Ukraine's fulfillment of specified criteria. While NATO has not issued a formal invitation to Ukraine, it acknowledges Ukraine's aspirations and is actively supporting its progress toward potential membership. This support includes enhancing interoperability and implementing democratic and security sector reforms (NATO, 2024a). This represents an escalation of tensions between Russia and Western countries, especially NATO, as Eastern Europe has become a critical arena for competing geopolitical interests. NATO's post-Cold War expansion, which saw the inclusion of former Eastern Bloc countries such as Poland, Hungary, and the Baltic states, has been interpreted by Russia as a direct encroachment on its sphere of influence and a threat to its security. This tension was further amplified by NATO's 2008 declaration that Ukraine and Georgia would eventually become members, which Russia perceived as a red line. The strategic importance of Eastern Europe, both as a buffer zone and as a transit corridor for energy resources, adds to the stakes for both NATO and Russia. Russia's aggressive actions, including the 2014 annexation of Crimea and its ongoing involvement in Eastern Ukraine, can be seen as attempts to counterbalance NATO's growing presence in the region. Conversely, NATO's military support to Eastern European nations underscores its commitment to collective defense and the deterrence of Russian aggression, further fueling the geopolitical rivalry. Geopolitical influence and efforts to strengthen military presence in the region are important factors in the dynamics of the ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine. Russia's insistence that it will not allow Ukraine to "break away," viewing it as a threat to its interests and security (Mamfaluthy, 2014), raises significant tensions with international law principles, particularly the respect for national sovereignty. The United Nations Charter guarantees every state the right to sovereignty, territorial integrity, and political independence, which includes Ukraine's right to determine its domestic and foreign policies without external interference. While Russia argues that Ukraine's potential NATO membership or Western alignment threatens its security, such concerns do not justify actions that violate Ukraine's sovereignty, such as the annexation of Crimea or support for separatist movements in Eastern Ukraine. Although international law permits states to take measures to protect legitimate security interests, these must align with legal norms and avoid infringing on the sovereignty of other states. Russia's actions contravene these principles, as reaffirmed by UN General Assembly resolutions recognizing Ukraine's territorial integrity. This tension highlights a clash between Russia's realpolitik approach to securing its strategic interests and the international legal obligation to respect the sovereignty and independence of other nations. In Putin's view, all countries that are members of NATO have the full right to organize and protect their territories from all threats, both from within and outside the country (Pradana & Ramadhoan, 2022). Putin's opinion reflects the view that NATO membership by countries surrounding Russia, including Ukraine, is perceived as a threat to Russia's security. This is reflected in concerns over the deployment of NATO military infrastructure near Russia's borders, which could be perceived as a direct threat to Russia's strategic interests. Putin has therefore insisted on taking measures he deems necessary to protect Russia's interests and sovereignty. This has led to increased tensions between Russia and Western countries that support Ukraine's membership in NATO. Russia's response to Finland's NATO membership contrasts sharply with its actions toward Ukraine, mainly due to the differing historical and cultural ties with each country. Finland views its NATO membership primarily as a defensive strategy, while Ukraine's relationship with Russia has deep historical and cultural roots. Finland's strong military, combined with NATO's collective defense principles, serves as a deterrent to Russian aggression, whereas Russia, already heavily engaged in Ukraine, avoids provoking NATO. This difference highlights that Russia's actions toward Ukraine are driven by regional dominance ambitions, rather than NATO expansion. Russia's intervention in Ukraine violates the principle of non-intervention, which is a fundamental tenet of international law. Non-intervention asserts that each state has the right to manage its internal affairs without external interference (Octavia & Husniyah, 2023). Article 2, paragraph 4 of the UN Charter emphasizes the importance of peaceful dispute resolution and the avoidance of armed conflict. Russia's actions also contravene the Declaration on Principles of International Law (A/RES/25/2625, 1970), which upholds the national sovereignty, territorial integrity, and political independence of states, emphasizing that disputes should be resolved peacefully and without violence (Mahfud, 2015; Rudy, 2011). Furthermore, Article 38 of the Statute of the International Court of Justice broadens the sources of international humanitarian law (IHL), allowing for inclusion of legal principles recognized by civilized nations, international organizations, and expert opinions, not limited to international treaties (Budisantosa, 2021). This further underscores the importance of respecting IHL and the sovereignty of states in the global legal framework. While the international treaties that are the main foundation of IHL are the Hague Conventionand the Geneva Convention (Pasorong et al., 2023). The Hague Convention regulates the laws of war governing the treatment of individuals and property in armed conflicts, while the Geneva Convention sets minimum standards for the treatment of war victims, including the protection of civilians, prisoners of war, and medical personnel. These two conventions form an important legal framework for safeguarding humanity during armed conflicts and have been the main basis for the formation of further IHL rules. IHL cannot cover all actions in international wars, but parties to armed conflicts are obliged to respect and uphold the basic principles of IHL these include (Danial, 2017). a. The Humanitarian Principle: Demands that actions in armed conflict should take into account the interests of humanity and avoid unnecessary suffering of individuals not involved in the conflict.b. Military Interests: Recognizes that military actions taken should be proportionate to the military objectives to be achieved and should minimize unnecessary losses.c. Proportionality: States that military actions must be in accordance with legitimate military interests and must be proportionate to the threat faced.d. Distinction: Stipulates that parties to a conflict must distinguish between individuals participating in the conflict (military) and those not participating (civilians), as well as between military and non-military objects.e. Prohibition of Unnecessary Suffering: Prohibits acts that cause unnecessary suffering or that are incompatible with legitimate military objectives.f. Separation of Ius ad Bellum and Ius in Bello: Distinguishes between the law governing the authority to use military force (Ius ad Bellum) and the law governing the behavior of the parties to the conflict (Ius in Bello). Russia's armed attack on Ukraine violated several fundamental principles of international humanitarian law (IHL). First, it breached the principle of state sovereignty by violating Ukraine's territorial integrity and political independence, contravening Article 2, paragraph 4 of the UN Charter, which prohibits the use of force against another state's territorial integrity. Second, the attack violated the principle of distinction, as there have been reports of civilian casualties from Russian military strikes, which should have been targeted at combatants and military objectives. Third, the strikes caused unnecessary suffering to the civilian population and infrastructure, violating the prohibition against unnecessary suffering in IHL. Overall, Russia's actions are considered serious violations of IHL and universally recognized humanitarian principles. 3.4. Foreign fighters in the context of international humanitarian law The conflict in Ukraine has brought attention to the complexities of international law, particularly regarding foreign fighters in armed conflicts. According to Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions, the conflict qualifies as a Non-International Armed Conflict (NIAC), which involves non-state armed groups like insurgents or separatists against state forces (Brits, 2017; Mehra & Thorley, 2017; Mehra & Thorley, 2022). However, the involvement of Russia complicates this classification, leading some to argue the conflict may be an International Armed Conflict (IAC) governed by the Geneva Conventions and the First Additional Protocol, which set standards for the protection of civilians and prisoners of war (Susetio & Muliawan, 2023). The Second Additional Protocol (APII) further outlines protections for civilians and individuals not directly participating in hostilities, providing essential legal instruments for the Ukraine conflict (Ismail, 2018). Despite the ongoing debate over the conflict's classification, IHL standards, including protections against torture and inhumane treatment, apply. These standards include principles such as proportionality and distinction, aiming to safeguard civilians and regulate military conduct (Gisel et al., 2020; Murray, 2019). The classification of the conflict is crucial in determining the application of IHL, especially regarding civilian protection, and distinguishing between military targets and non-combatants (Diakonia, 2022). The influx of foreign fighters, particularly through the International Territorial Defense Legion initiated by Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, has further complicated the conflict. Since 2014, thousands of foreign fighters from 55 nations have joined the conflict, which could escalate tensions and potentially violate IHL if human rights abuses occur (Egle E. Murauskaite, 2022; Nigel Walker, 2023). The presence of foreign fighters raises significant questions regarding their legal status and responsibilities within the conflict. The term "Foreign Fighters" lacks a universally accepted definition in international law. The most authoritative definition originates from UN Security Council Resolution 2178, which references "foreign terrorist fighters." A foreign terrorist fighter is defined as an individual who travels to a country other than their own to engage in activities that support terrorism, including (Bramantyo, 2023). a. Committing acts of terrorism, characterized by violence or threats aimed at instilling fear or causing harm to civilians for political objectives.b. Planning or preparing acts of terrorism, such as target surveillance, recruitment, or weapon acquisition.c. Participating directly in acts of terrorism, providing logistical support, or harboring perpetrators.d. Receiving or providing terrorism-related training, which includes the use of weapons, explosives, or guerrilla tactics. The UN Security Council's approach to foreign fighters emphasizes counterterrorism, evident in the focus of Resolution 2178 on their roles in terrorism. However, this counterterrorism perspective has been adopted at the national level by various member states, shaping their responses to foreign fighters. Various definitions of "foreign combatants" have emerged in academic literature, with one prevalent definition describing individuals motivated by ideology, religion, or kinship to leave their country to join an armed conflict abroad (Van Poecke & Cuyckens, 2023). Key aspects of this definition include. 1) Motivation, foreign combatants are driven by ideological, religious, or familial factors rather than personal gain.2) Movement, they travel from their home country to engage in conflict in another nation.3) Active involvement, their participation extends to combat or related activities. The classification of "foreign combatants" specifically refers to individuals joining non-state armed groups in conflicts abroad, often motivated by ideological, religious, or kinship ties (Baker-Beall, 2023). This classification excludes mercenaries or volunteers driven by other factors. While national security and counterterrorism are frequently the focus of discussions about foreign fighters, categorizing them as terrorists does not negate the application of International Humanitarian Law (IHL), which applies equally to all belligerents, including foreign fighters. Their actions in armed conflicts should be evaluated according to IHL principles (Ho, 2019). The term "foreign terrorist fighters" may complicate legal proceedings by focusing primarily on counterterrorism rather than recognizing the nuances of foreign fighter involvement in armed conflicts. These individuals often participate in both non-state armed conflicts and terrorist activities (Karska & Karski, 2016). The distinction between "foreign fighters" and "mercenaries" is also important, as foreign fighters typically join armed groups for ideological reasons, whereas mercenaries are financially motivated (Floress, 2016; Dano, 2022). Russia's use of the term "mercenaries" may be intended to influence public perception and emphasize the economic aspects of their participation.  Article 47 of the 1977 First Additional Protocol (API) to the Geneva Conventions outlines the legal status of foreign fighters and the limitations on applying the Convention's provisions to individuals from non-signatory states. However, Article 47(2) reinforces that human rights protections remain in effect for foreign fighters, and the responsibilities of conflict parties under IHL are unaffected (Gregorious, 2023). As foreign fighter involvement in conflicts like Ukraine increases, challenges arise regarding their legal status and protections under IHL, necessitating careful consideration of both legal and humanitarian aspects in addressing these issues. 3.5. Human rights of foreign fighters in the context of international humanitarian law The ongoing conflict between Ukraine and Russia has resulted in severe material and psychological consequences for both the civilian population and combatants. Amidst this turmoil, the participation of foreign fighters has garnered significant attention, raising questions about their status and human rights within the framework of International Humanitarian Law (IHL). Despite their involvement in armed conflict, foreign fighters retain certain rights and protections under IHL, necessitating a thorough assessment of their legal status, actions during the conflict, and involvement in armed groups. Thus, the protection of their human rights must be carefully considered in accordance with the principles of IHL, which guarantee fair and humane treatment for all parties involved. 3.5.1. Concerns regarding due process and human rights violations The recent sentencing of three foreign fighters to death by the Supreme Court of the Donetsk Republic has raised serious concerns about adherence to international legal standards. These sentences were issued after proceedings criticized for being swift and unfair, raising alarms about violations of the right to a fair trial, including access to legal counsel and the right to present a defense. The United Nations Commission on Human Rights has previously reported violations in the region, indicating a troubling disregard for internationally recognized human rights norms. In response, the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) intervened, directing Russia to halt the use of the death penalty and to respect the rights of foreign fighters. This underscores the critical need to uphold fundamental human rights, even amidst armed conflict, and to ensure that individuals engaged in hostilities receive basic protections recognized by international law. 3.5.2. The issue of citizenship and nationality The citizenship status of foreign fighters in the Ukraine conflict is complex due to varying national legal frameworks and policies regarding participation in foreign armed conflicts. Some countries have enacted laws revoking citizenship for involvement in terrorist activities or foreign conflicts, citing national security concerns, though critics argue these measures often lack transparency and due process, risking arbitrary deprivation of nationality. The revocation of citizenship leaves individuals in a legal limbo, vulnerable to prosecution or ill-treatment in other states. Statelessness, a common outcome of citizenship loss, exacerbates vulnerability by denying individuals access to basic rights like education, healthcare, and employment. This issue has significant implications for international human rights. The UN plays a key role in addressing these challenges by facilitating dialogue, monitoring compliance with international law, and advocating for human rights protections. Regional organizations, such as the EU, are also critical in promoting unified approaches and adherence to human rights standards in the treatment of foreign fighters. 3.5.3. Human rights protections under IHL The Geneva Conventions, particularly the Fourth Geneva Convention, emphasize the humane treatment of all individuals in conflict, including civilians and those detained. Article 3 requires non-participants in hostilities, such as civilians and prisoners, to be treated humanely, ensuring respect for basic human rights regardless of nationality or political affiliation. In light of citizenship revocation, states involved in armed conflict must assess their obligations under International Humanitarian Law (IHL) to avoid human rights violations. Revoking citizenship can undermine protections for prisoners of war (POWs), who are entitled to humane treatment, a fair trial, and protection from torture. Arbitrary revocation of nationality risks violating due process, leaving individuals stateless and vulnerable to ill-treatment. States must ensure that national security policies do not compromise fundamental rights. Upholding human rights is not just a legal requirement but a reflection of a state's commitment to justice. International organizations, such as the United Nations and regional bodies, have a crucial role in monitoring compliance and advocating for the rights of those affected by armed conflict. 3.5.4. Obligations of states and international accountability The right to return is a fundamental principle in international law, safeguarding individuals from arbitrary state actions that could lead to statelessness or human rights violations. This right is especially relevant for foreign fighters, who may face citizenship revocation upon returning from conflict zones, further exacerbating their vulnerabilities. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) stresses that states are obligated to investigate war crimes committed by their nationals and ensure accountability. Revoking citizenship and transferring legal responsibility to other states can create a culture of impunity and hinder accountability for war crimes. Denying the right to return can lead to further human rights abuses, including inhumane detention or exposure to violence in conflict zones. Article 12 of the ICCPR affirms that all individuals have the right to return to their own country, emphasizing that this right is not contingent on actions or affiliations. States must avoid arbitrary deprivation of nationality, particularly in conflict contexts, to preserve these rights. Adhering to International Humanitarian Law (IHL) and human rights standards is crucial to maintaining trust and accountability within the international community. A balanced approach that considers both security and humanitarian principles is necessary in addressing modern conflicts. 4. Research limitations While this study provides valuable insights into the legal frameworks surrounding foreign fighters in the context of the Russia-Ukraine conflict, it is important to acknowledge several limitations. First, the study is limited to a normative analysis of IHL, focusing primarily on the legal aspects of Russia's military aggression against Ukraine, without delving deeply into the political and social dynamics that also play a significant role in shaping the conflict. Second, the sources of data utilized are predominantly drawn from international legal documents and reports issued by international organizations, which may not fully capture the perspectives of all parties involved, particularly those who are underrepresented in global discourse. Third, while the study adheres to established international legal approaches, it faces challenges in assessing the practical application of IHL in the field, due to difficulties in obtaining sensitive or potentially biased information from diverse sources. Fourth, the research does not specifically address the role of third-party states supporting one of the conflicting parties, a dimension that could significantly complicate the interpretation of IHL. In light of these constraints, it is recommended that future research adopt a more holistic and inclusive approach to explore these complexities in greater depth. 5. Conclusion The ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine involves direct military engagements between Russian and Ukrainian forces, along with the participation of pro-Russian separatist groups in eastern Ukraine. Foreign combatants have also become a significant factor on both sides of the conflict. Individuals from various countries have joined the Ukrainian side, either as volunteers or part of organized military units, while Russia has provided support to pro-Russian factions, including involvement of Russian foreign combatants. The legal status of foreign combatants is unclear under International Humanitarian Law (IHL), which primarily addresses the rights and obligations of states, military forces, and civilians, leaving ambiguous the status of foreign combatants, whether they act on behalf of non-state armed groups or as independent volunteers. There is a need to avoid misusing terrorism laws that do not differentiate between foreign volunteers, combatants, and mercenaries, as this could undermine the core objectives of IHL, which include ensuring humane conduct in war. IHL's primary goal is to mitigate human suffering during war, not to prevent conflict. It aims to make warfare more humane, ensuring that all combatants, including foreign ones, enjoy the same human rights as nationals. Violations of these rights, such as deprivation of citizenship or the right to life, cannot be justified under any circumstances. As the conflict persists, all parties must respect IHL to safeguard the dignity of individuals and ensure justice and accountability in the conflict. CRediT authorship contribution statementKhoirunnisa Khoirunnisa: Conceptualization. Brian Matthew: Resources. Didi Jubaidi: Conceptualization. Agung Yudhistira Nugroho: Conceptualization.Data availability statementThe data used in this study were obtained from publicly available sources such as the Open Access Library, DOAJ (Directory of Open Access Journals) and , as indicated in the Data section of the article.Funding statementThis research was supported by a grant from xxxxxxxx which had no role in study design, data collection, analysis, interpretation of results, or writing of this article.Declaration of competing interestThe authors declare that there are no conflicts of interest associated with this publication. No financial, personal, or professional relationships with other individuals or organizations have influenced or could potentially influence the work presented in this manuscript.AcknowledgementsThe authors would like to thank all those who have provided technical support and valuable input during this research process.Khoirunnisa Khoirunnisa, Brian Matthew, Didi Jubaidi, Agung Yudhistira Nugroho, The Ukraine-Russia conflict: An international humanitarian law review of the involvement of foreign fighters, Social Sciences & Humanities Open, Volume 11, 2025, 101340, ISSN 2590-2911, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ssaho.2025.101340.ReferencesAkbar and Sadiawati, 2023, M.N. Akbar, D. Sadiawati, Analysis of the Russian invasion of Ukraine in terms of humanitarian law, Jurnal Ilmiah Mizani: Wacana Hukum, Ekonomi, Dan Keagamaan, 10 (1) (2023), p. 160, 10.29300/mzn.v10i1.10760Alexander, 2023, A. 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ABSTRACT  This paper examines de-dollarization as a geopolitical industrial policy within the BRICS framework and its implications for Cuba, Venezuela, and Argentina. De-dollarization, a process aimed at reducing reliance on the US dollar, has gained momentum among BRICS nations as a response to economic sanctions, monetary sovereignty concerns, and external financial shocks, particularly following the 2008 global financial crisis. For Cuba and Venezuela, de-dollarization is necessary due to US sanctions, pushing them toward alternative  financial  mechanisms  through  BRICS  partnerships. Cuba’s  possible  de-dollarization  follows  increased ties with Russia, China, and Iran. Regarding Venezuela, despite its partial dollarization, Caracas seeks  to  strengthen  non-dollar  transactions  through  oil  trade. In  contrast,  under  President  Javier  Milei,  Argentina  has  rejected  BRICS  and  continues  to  debate  dollarization,  reflecting  the  country’s  historical  and economic ties to the US dollar. The study highlights that de-dollarization is a State-led, multilateral process influenced by external economic conditions and geopolitical alignments. While Cuba and Venezuela actively integrate with BRICS to reduce dollar dependence, Argentina’s approach remains uncertain, shaped by ideological and financial considerations. Keywords: De-dollarization, BRICS, Cuba, Venezuela, Argentina INTRODUCTION De-dollarization is almost a synonym of BRICS. The reduction  of  US  dollar  dominance  and  the  consequential dependence on it represent critical stakes for BRICS countries. Nonetheless, there are nuances and differences amongst BRICS members on monetary policies. Since the first summits (2009–2010), BRICS  asserted  the  Global  South’s  need  to  prioritize  trade  in  domestic  currency  and  refrain  from  US  dollar  pegging. For  initial  members  like  China  and  Russia,  as  well  as  newly  associated  countries  such  as  Iran  and  Cuba,  Western  sanctions  are  the  main  driver  for  de-dollarization. Instead,  for  Brazil,  India, and the majority of most recent BRICS partners  (primarily  from  Africa  and  Southeast  Asia),  de-dollarization  means  enhancing  their  monetary sovereignty,  fostering  domestic  currencies’  value,  and  avoiding  depending  on  US  institutions:  Treasury and Federal Reserve. De-dollarization pertains to  monetary  and  public  policies. Therefore,  it  is  a  state-led process. For this reason, it might be considered an industrial policy. It is necessary to outline that this article adopts the term geopolitical industrial  policy  for  a  State-led  economic  strategy  that,  unlike  inward-oriented  monetary  or  financial  policies, is deeply intertwined with the outward-looking dimension of foreign policy. Hence,  this  work  examines  de-dollarization  as  a  geopolitical  industrial  policy  within  the  BRICS  framework  and  its  implications  for  Cuba,  Venezuela,  and  Argentina. De-dollarization,  a  process  aimed  at  reducing  reliance  on  the  US  dollar,  has  gained momentum  among  BRICS  nations  as  a  response  to economic sanctions, monetary sovereignty concerns,  and  external  financial  shocks,  particularly  following the 2008 global financial crisis. For Cuba and  Venezuela,  de-dollarization  is  necessary  due  to  US  sanctions,  pushing  them  toward  alternative  financial  mechanisms  through  BRICS  partnerships. Cuba’s  possible  de-dollarization  follows  increased  ties  with  Russia,  China,  and  Iran. Regarding  Venezuela, despite its partial dollarization, Caracas seeks to  strengthen  non-dollar  transactions  through  oil  trade. In  contrast,  under  President  Javier  Milei,  Argentina has rejected BRICS and continues to debate dollarization, reflecting the country’s historical and economic ties to the US dollar. The study highlights that de-dollarization is a State-led, multilateral process  influenced  by  external  economic  conditions  and geopolitical alignments. While Cuba and Venezuela actively integrate with BRICS to reduce dollar dependence,  Argentina’s  approach  remains  uncertain,  shaped  by  ideological  and  financial  considerations. It is undebatable that there are differences between usual industrial policies and de-dollarization. Indus-trial policies look inward, are fashioned upon domes-tic  matters,  and  contradict, court,  multilateral  efforts. De-dollarization  is  a  geopolitical  industrial  policy that looks outward, focusing on the role of a given country in the world economy. Without multilateralism, a State pursuing de-dollarization would quickly become a pariah. As a geopolitical industrial policy,  de-dollarization  owes  its  rationale  to  external  shocks. It  is  safe  to  define  de-dollarization  as  exogenously  motivated. The  2008  global  financial  crisis (GFC) represented the critical external shock for  BRICS  members  to  escalate  their  de-dollarization objectives: “[E]specially  since  the  2008  global  financial  crisis,  central banks of many countries have been trying to diversify their portfolios to shift away from the US dollar through liquidating holdings of US Treasuries and increasing other assets including the euro, yen, renminbi and gold.” (Li, 2023, p. 9).  The 21st century wrought incentives to de-dollarization that finally sparked because of the GFC. However,  the  mainstream  doubts  surrounding  de-dollarization involve its feasibility. There are no tools to objectively  measure  the  status  of  de-dollarization  or its future outcomes. Notwithstanding limitations, de-dollarization  is  increasingly  attracting  Global  South economies. Specifically looking at Latin America,  this  work  outlines  how  de-dollarization  becomes  an  obligation  for  sanctioned  countries:  Cuba  and  Venezuela. The  two  ALBA  governments  mingled  with  BRICS  for  a  long  time,1  with  Havana  joining the forum in association and Venezuela almost on the same route, stopped by the Brazilian veto in the  Kazan  summit. Cuban  and  Venezuelan  de-dollarization finds in BRICS a multilateral opportunity.  The third country examined is Argentina since the government  of  Javier  Milei  refused  to  enter  BRICS  and  continuously  flirted  with  dollarizing  the  economy. From President Menem’s pegging to the US dollar (uno a uno) to the 2001 Corralito, Argentina’s recent economic history inevitably rests on currency issues (IMF, 2003). Unlike Venezuela, and on the contrary of Cuba (which is not part of the IMF), Argentina’s economic policies intertwine with Bretton Woods  institutions. That  might  be  the  reason  why  neoliberal Argentinian economists found in dollarization  a  solution  for  Buenos  Aires  (Cachanosky  et  al., 2023).  1. Force Majeure De-Dollarization for Cuba and Venezuela  Since  1999,  when  Fidel  Castro  and  Hugo  Chávez  coincided, de-dollarization meant an industrial foreign policy to antagonize US hegemony. In Cuba, de-dollarization  is  a  more  difficult  process  than  usual  assumptions  and  certainly  more  challenging  than  in  Venezuela. 2004  marked  the  year  when  the  US  dollar  was  officially  prohibited  on  the Caribbean Island, to reverse the dual currency  system  implemented  since  the  Special  Period  (Herrera  &  Nakatani,  2004). The  extra-territoriality  of  US  sanctions,  affecting  in  their  secondary effect  Cuba’s  trade,  led  Havana  to  a  de-dollarization fashioned upon the path that Deligöz (2024) identified  for  China  and  Russia. Besides  realpolitik  and  geopolitical  strategies,  Cuba’s  association  with  BRICS,  occurred  in  October  2024,  is  the  la-test  effort  to  de-dollarize. Venezuela’s  economic  crises and COVID-19 pushed Cuba into continuous indebtedness to survive, with US dollars reallowed but  still  at  limited  provision  due  to  Washington’s  restrictions  (Luis,  2020). To  give  account  of  its  urgencies,  in  a  few  months,  Havana  moved  from  apparent dollarization to initiatives for de-dollarization, thanks to BRICS. Over the summer, Primer Minister Manuel Marrero enabled USD payments in the  tourist  sector  (Gámez  Torres,  2024)  to  tackle  the balance of payments deficit with liquidity. For  a  country  obliged  to  rapidly  change  industrial  policies,  the  BRICS  opportunity  could  not  be  mis-sed. Cuba’s  reliance  on  Russia,  China,  and  Iran  may  materialize   a   complete   de-dollarization   that   can   favor  BRICS  projects  and  escape  US  sanctions. Of  course, the evident permanence of the bloqueo, regardless  of  who  runs  the  White  House,  is  the  main  driver for Cuba’s de-dollarization. A similar but quite nuanced situation applies to Venezuela as well. From the Bolivarian era inaugurated by President Chávez, de-dollarization  entangled  foreign  policy  objectives  even before US sanctions. The Sucre digital currency was  created  by  the  governments  of  Venezuela  and  Ecuador  as  the  main  ALBA  initiative  to  de-dollarize  commercial  transactions  among  Bolivarian  nations  (Benzi et al., 2016). ALBA-promoted Sucre was analogous to BRICS’ favoring of blockchains and digital currencies, limiting the USD to a reference value for the  bloc’s  transactions  (Mayer,  2024). US  sanctions  on Venezuela’s oil production, sparked under the first Trump Administration, meant a significant remotion of USD-denominated transactions for Caracas. Considering  ALBA’s  slow  progress  and  the  infeasibility  of fully adopting the Sucre, President Maduro had to look at BRICS for solutions. Despite  not  having  diplomatic  relations  with  Washington,  Venezuela  is  still  an  IMF  member. Ladasic points  out  that  “[a]s  Venezuela  joined  the  pack  of  countries  trading  oil  outside  of  USD  and  has  instead priced it in Chinese yuan, BRICS together with Venezuela  already  have  16%  needed  for  IMF  veto  power to use in a crisis” (2017, p. 100). The rentier characterization of the Venezuelan economy and its dependency  on  oil  exports  make  de-dollarization  a necessity. As per Cuba, unilateral policies are not enough. Venezuela’s  outcry  merged  with  inflation,  the  devaluation  of  the  bolívar,  and  a  paralysis  of  the  Venezuelan  Central  Bank  (BCV)  that  put  total  dollarization on the industrial-public policies’ table (Briceño  et  al.,  2019). Although  the  country  is  still  under  a  sort  of  de  facto  dollarization,  Venezuela’s  economic  resurrection  should  occur  together  with  a  de-dollarization  strategy. Failure  to  enter  BRICS  in the Kazan summit provides a temporary brake to Venezuela’s  de-dollarization,  but  the  prolific  trade  with China, Russia, Iran, and Türkiye will, in all cases, align Venezuela with BRICS policies. 3. Argentina: De-Dollarizing a Passion Economists  were  surely  interested  in  Javier  Milei’s  dollarization  claims. Less  than  a  year  into  his  government,  dollarization  seems  impossible  to  the  libertarian  president. Milei’s  negative  to  BRICS  demonstrates  that  de-dollarization  is  currently  not  considerable  for  Casa  Rosada. Nevertheless,  it  is  relevant to outline that Argentinian academia questioned  the  role  of  the  USD  and  studied  economic  policies  involving  de-dollarization. Corso  and  Sangiácomo (2023), in affiliation with the Central Bank of  Argentina  (BCRA),  argued  that  de-dollarization  might  help  in  relieving  the  extreme  inflation  saw  under  Alberto  Fernández’s  ruling. Other  authors  implied  that  the  Kirchners’  limitations  on  USD  access would lead to a gradual de-dollarization of the economy,  but  with  constraints  particularly  from  a  USD dominated housing market across Latin America  (Luzzi,  2013). If  under  the  Kirchners,  and  with  support of South American left-leaning geopolitics, de-dollarization  could  really  offer  a  pathway  for  the Argentine economy, with Milei that is barely an option. The  Argentine  relation  with  the  USD  does not hold a clear ideological cleavage. Argentinians’ passion for the dollar, as stressed by Bercovich and Rebossio (2013), embraced diverse political figures such as Perón, Aníbal Fernández (a prominent Kirchnerist politician), and Martínez de Hoz. The peso’s continuous  instability  legitimized  the  widespread  informal adoption of the USD, with first insight fore-seeable in the currency devaluation subsequent to the Great Depression (Díaz Alejandro, 1970). There is also a nationalistic meaning behind the peso, whose  national  heroes  imprinted,  from  Belgrano  to  Evita (Moreno Barreneche, 2023), portray a sentimental attachment to the banknotes that Argentinians do not want to erase. In sum, Argentina’s de-dollarization is as difficult as dollarization. Milei’s obsession for US hegemony inserts de-dollarization in a faraway scenario. Moreover,  Donald  Trump’s  victory,  who  promised  high tariffs to countries that unpeg from the USD (Butts,  2024),  constitutes  a  natural  barrier  to  de-dollarization. Its political viability might depend on an eventual Peronist succession to Milei. Argentina’s financial closeness  to  China,  and  a  possible  resume  of  BRICS  talks,  could  indicate  de-dollarization  as  a  future  last  resort. In this sense, de-dollarization within the BRICS framework might help Argentina in solving structural issues: Chronic external debt and dependency on Bretton Woods institutions. CONCLUSIONS De-dollarization is State-led and can be considered a  geopolitical  industrial  policy. Cuba,  Venezuela,  and  Argentina  show  that  de-dollarization  depends  on  geopolitical  calculus  and  economic  considerations. The incentives may be different, ranging from US sanctions to devaluation of the national currency. However,  unlike  dollarization,  de-dollarization  cannot  be  pursued  unilaterally. The  rise  of  BRICS  motivates  Global  South  countries  to  de-dollarize  under its guarantees. For Cuba and Venezuela, the association  with  BRICS  and  the  interdependence  with other sanctioned economies like Russia, China, and Iran, make de-dollarization an opportunity. Argentina’s  relation  with  the  USD  follows  its  turbulent  economic  history. Simultaneously,  there  is  passion  for  dollars and nationalism toward the peso banknotes. In this  context,  even  Milei  showed  that  dollarization  is  in  no way easier that de-dollarization. The currency issues affecting Argentina might not be resolved by neither of the two policies, but a future BRICS collaboration could bring de-dollarization again into the political debate. NOTES1  ALBA  references  the  Alianza  Bolivariana  para  los  Pueblos  de  Nuestra  América,  a  regional  organization  founded  by  Cuba  and  Venezuela,  including Bolivia, Honduras, Nicaragua, and several Caribbean islands. 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In  A.  Kaufman  (Ed.),  Cultura  social  del  dólar  (pp.  11–19).  UBA  Sociales.  https://publicaciones.sociales.uba.ar/index.php/socialesendebate/article/view/3319.Mayer,  J.  (2024).  De-Dollarization:  The  Global  Payment  Infrastructure  and  Wholesale  Central  Bank  Digital  Currencies.  FMM  Working  Paper  No.  102.  https://www.econstor.eu/handle/10419/297865. Moreno  Barreneche,  S.  (2023).  El  dinero  como  soporte  material  de  la  disputa  por  el  sentido  de  la  nación:  Estudio  del  peso  argentino  desde  una  perspectiva  semiótica.  Estudios  Sociales:  Revista  Universitaria  Semestral,  64,  1–19.  https://doi.org/10.14409/es.2023.64.e0046. CONFLICT OF INTERESTThe  author  declares  that  there  are  no  conflicts  of  interest related to the article.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Not applicable.FUNDING Not applicable.PREPRINT Not published.COPYRIGHT Copyright  is  held  by  the  authors,  who  grant  the  Revista  Política  Internacional  the  exclusive  rights  of  first  publication. Authors  may  enter  into  additional agreements for non-exclusive distribution of the  version  of  the  work  published  in  this  journal  (e.g.,  publication  in  an  institutional  repository,  on  a personal website, publication of a translation or as a book chapter), with the acknowledgment that it was first published in this journal. Regarding copyright, the journal does not charge any fee for the submission, processing, or publication of articles.

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. 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