front

Authors: Marin Ekstrom and Wilder Alejandro Sánchez

Uzbekistan has recently commenced construction of a new airport in Tashkent, valued at $2.5 billion, as a symbol of the country’s reinvention. The project, slated to begin operations in 2029, aims to serve as Central Asia’s key aviation hub by supporting more than 40 take-offs and landings per hour and serving 20 million passengers annually. Economists predict that increased air traffic at the airport could generate $27 billion in annual revenue and create thousands of new jobs.

To achieve this ambitious goal, Tokyo and Seoul will be critical partners: Japan’s Sojitz Corporation, which has extensive experience in the aviation sector, has agreed to invest millions of dollars and share technical expertise. As for South Korea, the Incheon International Airport Corporation (IIAC) signed a $24.5 million consulting contract to provide operational and service support for the development of the new Tashkent airport.

Investment Incoming

While the Tashkent airport is one of the most recent and buzzworthy examples of Uzbek cooperation with Japan and South Korea, it is hardly the only area of engagement. With a projected 6.2% economic growth rate for 2025, Uzbekistan is on track to become one of the five fast-growing economies in Europe and Central Asia, making it a highly attractive market for trade and investment. In July 2025, the Japan Bank for International Cooperation (JBIC) announced a three-year initiative to fund and implement $3.7 billion in projects across the energy, petrochemical, textile, and infrastructure sectors. Sojitz also agreed to expand its cooperation in the oil and gas sectors, including the Syrdarya II power generation facility. Mining is another lucrative sector, with the Japanese corporation Itochu investing heavily in Uzbek uranium mining operations.

Similarly, South Korea is playing a vital role in financing Uzbekistan’s infrastructure projects, including supplying high-speed trains for its electrified transport networks and providing over $12 million to promote sustainable resource extraction methods and supply equipment and training for Uzbek engineers. Another notable project is a South Korean-funded $150 million medical center in Tashkent.

High-Level Diplomacy

The two East Asian governments have also increased intergovernmental engagement with Uzbekistan in recent years. Visits and engagement between policymakers in Tashkent and Tokyo are relatively common: this year alone, then-Minister of Foreign Affairs Takeshi Iwaya visited Tashkent in June, while then-Minister of Justice Keisuke Suzuki visited in May. While the new Prime Minister, Sanae Takaichi, has yet to fully formulate her foreign policy strategy, it is hoped that she will continue Tokyo’s engagement with Uzbekistan.

Then-South Korean President Yun Suk Yeol visited Tashkent in June 2024, while President Shavkat Mirziyoyev and current President Lee Jae Myung spoke by phone in July. They pledged to strengthen the “special strategic partnership” and expand “multifaceted cooperation,” noting that Korean companies have invested over US$8 billion in the Uzbek economy.

Japan and South Korea have proven to be invaluable official development assistance (ODA) providers. The Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), Tokyo’s primary international aid organ, along with other Japanese NGOs, have worked extensively on infrastructure and human capital development in Uzbekistan. While Japanese ODA to Central Asia is of lower priority compared to Southeast Asia, Tokyo has consistently remained a top donor to Uzbekistan and the rest of the region. South Korea- which famously transformed from a major aid recipient to a prominent aid donor – has currently designated Uzbekistan as a “priority partner country” in terms of its ODA allocation. South Korean development assistance increased tenfold from 2006 and 2019, concentrating on social infrastructure and public service projects. Given the current instability of the global humanitarian and international development sector, it is difficult to say with certainty which current and future projects involving Japan, South Korea, and Uzbekistan will be pursued.  Nevertheless, ODA from Japan and South Korea has clearly had, and will continue to have, a positive lasting impact in Uzbekistan. 

The Other Pillar: People-To-People Interactions

People-to-people relations, facilitated through tourism and educational opportunities, can serve as additional pillars to strengthen interstate relations. Tourism among the three countries is surging, as Uzbekistan has noted increased tourist traffic from Japan and South Korea and vice versa. Initiatives like “Cool Japan” and “the Korean Wave” have transformed the two East Asian nations into soft power titans, while Uzbekistan is emphasizing strategies such as its Silk Road mystique to boost its soft power and tourism potential. If construction of the new airport stays on track, by the end of the decade, Japanese and South Korean tourists will arrive at a state-of-the-art facility their governments helped build.

Studying abroad is a significant phenomenon in Uzbekistan, ranking fifth globally in 2021 in terms of the number of students studying abroad. Japan offers numerous scholarships, language programs, and exchange programs designed for Uzbek students to study there. South Korea is an even more popular destination, with an estimated 5,000 Uzbek students studying in Korean universities. While comparatively fewer Japanese and South Korean students study in Uzbekistan, exchanges among the three countries can only strengthen their long-term ties.

Finally, Uzbekistan contributes to South Korea’s academic community and workforce: nearly 100,000 Uzbek citizens were living in South Korea as of June 2025, comprising the fifth largest foreign-born population in the country.

The Big Picture

Japan and South Korea have also robustly engaged with Uzbekistan through regional forums. Japan spearheaded the “C5+1” framework, which organizes the five Central Asian republics into a regional unit interacting with an extra-regional actor, with its 2004 “Central Asia + Japan” dialogue. Global Powers like China, Russia, the United States, and the European Union adopted this model for their own engagements with the Central Asian states. The Japan-centered C5+1 has continued, with the most recent summit being held in Astana in 2025. South Korea has helped organize a series of Central Asia-Republic of Korea Cooperation Forums and was set to host the first Central Asia-Korea summit in Seoul in 2025. The arrest of deposed President Yoon Suk Yeol earlier this year, however, has delayed those plans. South Korea announced a “K-Silk Road” initiative in June 2024, an ambitious project encompassing such areas as natural resource extraction, development aid, and cultural exchanges- though the arrest of Yoon has also halted progress on these objectives.

As a corollary to this analysis, it is worth noting two recent developments involving Central Asian engagement with  the Global Powers of China and the US, which often overshadow Japan and South Korea’s efforts in the region. A Chinese company reportedly plans to invest as much as US$500 million in Uzbekistan’s Andijan region to construct a hydroelectric power plant and modernize existing energy infrastructure. Meanwhile, US Ambassador-at-Large for South and Central Asian Affairs Sergio Gor and Deputy Secretary Christopher Landau visited Tashkent in late October as part of a regional tour. 2025 marks the 10th anniversary of the US-Central Asia C5+1 format, and US members of Congress have requested the Trump administration to organize a presidential summit to celebrate this achievement.

The point here is that the Global Powers will continue to engage Tashkent, and matching dollar-for-dollar  investment to compete with them is unrealistic. That being said, Tokyo and Seoul are not necessarily positioning themselves to act like Global Powers in the region. Japanese engagement with Uzbekistan and Central Asia has been characterized by a flexible, piecemeal approach that targets key issues while forgoing rigid diplomatic protocol like geopolitical alliances or treaty obligations. In addition, Japan values “quality over quantity” regarding its projects: while it may not be as flashy or large-scale compared to its Global Power counterparts, Japan aims for long-term sustainability and success. South Korea, for its part, appears to be adopting a similar mode of engagement with Uzbekistan and Central Asia. Being involved in strategic projects, like a significant involvement in Tashkent’s new airport, will help Tokyo and Seoul continue to have a high-profile and visible presence in Uzbekistan’s development projects.

Conclusions

Since President Mirziyoyev took power in 2016, he has sought to create a “New Uzbekistan” characterized by economic dynamism and global integration. Tashkent’s relations with Global Powers like China, Russia, the United States, and the European Union have been extensively analyzed. However, two other countries that have developed their own special and successful partnerships with Uzbekistan are Japan and South Korea.

As the New Uzbekistan gains momentum, Tashkent must rely on international partnerships to sustain development and enhance its international prestige. Given the country’s history of subjugation under empires and global powers, Uzbekistan’s involvement with nations like Japan and South Korea offers an intriguing alternative: robust engagement with less risk of domination. In turn, these East Asian nations can expand their regional influence to offset rival powers, most notably China, and gain access to new markets and resources. The collaboration between these three countries thus offers mutual benefits for all parties.

*Wilder Alejandro Sánchez is president of Second Floor Strategies, a consulting firm in Washington, D.C. He covers geopolitical, defense, and trade issues in Central Asia, Eastern Europe, and the Western Hemisphere. He has co-authored a report on water security issues in Central Asia, published by the Atlantic Council’s Eurasia Center and given presentations on environmental issues that affect the region.

The world is closely watching the potential meeting between Trump and Xi Jinping, which could take place at the APEC summit at the end of October, as well as the formal state visit in January of next year. Undoubtedly, the top priority for both the U.S. and China is to ease tensions, with Washington even more eager than Beijing to achieve a “truce.” This is because Beijing imposed large-scale countermeasures against Washington in October, in retaliation for the various sanctions the U.S. has levied on China since August. China’s countermeasures caught the U.S. off guard and left it struggling to respond.

China’s strict restrictions on rare earth exports have shocked the West, particularly the automotive and semiconductor industries. On the other hand, China’s halt to soybean purchases from the U.S. has frustrated Trump’s most loyal supporters. Washington’s initial reaction was one of anger, with threats of retaliation, but within days, its tone softened. This signals that Beijing has struck at the opponent’s sore spot, while Washington lacks effective tools to fight back.

“You have no cards to play.” Trump’s famous rebuke to Zelenskyy has gone global and will undoubtedly go down in history. Embarrassingly, Trump now finds himself in a similar predicament with Beijing: nearly “out of cards.” To demonstrate that he still has some in hand, Trump has finally pulled Taiwan out of his pocket.

On October 20, in an interview with Bloomberg, Trump listed Taiwan as one of the four top priorities in U.S.-China negotiations—alongside rare earths, soybeans, and fentanyl—and stated, “We’ll get along very well with China.”

According to a report in The Guardian, Trump explicitly said that China “doesn’t want” to invade Taiwan and predicted that “nothing will happen.” He described Taiwan as “an apple in China’s eyes,” emphasizing that “America is the strongest military power in the world by far” and “no one dares to mess with us.” In a buddying tone, he added, “I love my relationship with President Xi. We have a great relationship, and that on the Taiwan issue, “we’ll get along very well.”

In the following days, Trump repeatedly made similar statements in the media. However, on October 26, during an interview aboard his plane en route to Asia, he refused to discuss the Taiwan issue and warned that if China invades Taiwan, “it would be very dangerous for China.”

Trump’s rhetoric follows a very simple logic, as is well known: he fabricates bargaining chips out of thin air, uses soft language to lure the opponent to the negotiating table, then employs tough rhetoric to hint at his confidence in making the opponent yield, while refusing to reveal his hand in advance.

In mid-October, the RAND Corporation—a think tank closely tied to the U.S. military—released a report titled Stabilizing the U.S.-China Rivalry, urging Washington to abandon zero-sum thinking and instead adopt a “step-back” approach to stabilize U.S.-China relations and avoid military conflict. On the Taiwan front, the report suggests that the U.S. should encourage Taiwan and China to create shared interests and emotional bonds that gradually lay the groundwork for reunification. This proposal has been interpreted in Taiwan as “gradual unification,” drawing widespread attention and viewed as a signal of the U.S. abandoning Taiwan.

However, rather than “the U.S. abandoning Taiwan,” the RAND report is more accurately a “delaying tactic,” aiming to prolong the status quo in the Taiwan Strait through a “step-back” strategy, thereby securing U.S. strategic interests in the First Island Chain for the next 5-10 years.

The realist tone of the RAND report is becoming the mainstream view in the U.S. For instance, Time magazine recently published an article that enraged Taiwan’s ruling party: The U.S. Must Beware of Taiwan’s Reckless Leader. The piece argues that Taiwanese President Lai Ching-te’s reckless emphasis on Taiwan’s sovereignty is dragging the U.S. into the risk of military conflict with China. Furthermore, it stresses that Taiwan is a core interest for China but merely a non-treaty ally for the U.S.— America has no reason to get embroiled in war for Taiwan’s sake and should instead invest resources in treaty allies like Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines.

In other words, the restraint-oriented thinking in the U.S. that advocates “focusing on the big picture” is gradually gaining the upper hand. Such arguments often come from individuals and organizations familiar with U.S. military capabilities. Simply put, this rhetoric merely underscores a fact: the U.S. military has low odds of winning a war against China, and it’s not worth risking for a non-treaty ally.

Of course, hawkish thinking in the U.S. remains resilient. In contrast to the restrainers, hawks believe that losing Taiwan would severely damage U.S. credibility in East Asia, and from a long-term perspective, the U.S. would suffer more harm than good, thus stressing that “Taiwan is not for sale” and advocating continuing arms sales to Taiwan, even shifting from “strategic ambiguity” to a “strategic clarity” policy.

But we know Trump doesn’t think that far ahead. Before he leaves office, Taiwan must be “cashed in” to feed this narcissist’s ego. In other words, the one inevitably waving the “Taiwan is for sale” sign is Trump.

In fact, for the West, Taiwan is rapidly depreciating because its most valuable asset—the semiconductor industry—is being hollowed out by the U.S. Taiwan’s vice president recently admitted that not only TSMC but also the ruling party has decided to replicate an identical semiconductor supply chain cluster in the U.S.

Taiwan’s authorities explain this investment plan as “avoiding over-reliance on the single Chinese market,” but those familiar with the semiconductor industry know that Taiwan has always relied on the U.S. market, not China—especially for high-end chips. Relocating the industry to the U.S. will only increase corporate costs, raise chip prices, and introduce even more unpredictable risks.

Rare earths are one such unpredictable risk. Semiconductor manufacturing requires rare earths, albeit in small proportions, but without them, chips cannot be produced. If Beijing wants to keep the semiconductor industry in Taiwan, it could completely ban rare earth exports to the U.S. while continuing normal supplies to Taiwan. Even if the U.S. tries to use Taiwan as a rare earth transshipment hub, that’s impossible, as China’s export controls can precisely calculate buyers’ demand volumes, eliminating any transshipment possibilities.

A more fundamental approach would be to ban rare earth exports to both Taiwan and the U.S., driving Taiwan’s value to rock bottom and preventing Trump from demanding too high a price.

In line with Trump’s style, consolidating proxies across the First Island Chain to form a military deterrence against China is undoubtedly another chip in his hand, but this card no longer works on China. Throughout this year, Beijing has repeatedly flexed its military muscles to signal to the U.S. that China cannot be contained. The U.S. military’s front line has effectively retreated to Guam, and Japan, the Philippines, Taiwan, and South Korea all know that the U.S. is pulling back. Without their backer, they dare not confront China.

The key point is that China understands the U.S.’s strategic goal is to stabilize U.S.-China relations, not to break ties. Therefore, only by doubling down on countermeasures against the U.S. can China achieve a stable state of “competition without rupture,” and facts have proven that a hardline strategy leads to a “TACO” outcome. Beijing has no reason or room to concede, especially on the Taiwan issue.

China is testing various tools to offset Western sanctions, leaving the entire West shrouded in fear and anger over rare earth cutoffs, yet powerless to retaliate. This proves that countermeasures to fully offset Western sanctions are nearly complete. If there’s any vulnerability, it’s the financial defense line, which is not yet fully prepared. This explains why China is actively promoting the internationalization of the renminbi and continuing to reduce its holdings of U.S. debt.

On the other hand, Taiwan’s largest opposition party, the Kuomintang (KMT), replaced its party chairman in October with someone determined to change its U.S. policy. Due to the ruling party’s declining popularity, the KMT is poised to win majority voter support in next year’s elections and those in 2028. The new chairman opposes U.S. directives—demanding that Taiwan raise defense spending to 5% of GDP—and extends a peace olive branch to Beijing, potentially leading to dramatic changes in Taiwan-U.S. relations, a development unfavorable to Washington.

Admittedly, the KMT’s new chairman may neither be able nor willing to convince the Taiwanese people to unify with mainland China, but she could reverse the status quo where Taiwan’s major parties are all pro-U.S. Her support from over half the party members stems from two public opinion bases: first, acknowledging oneself as Chinese; second, opposing the U.S. hollowing out Taiwan. According to polls, 4 million KMT supporters accept Chinese identity, and over half (more than 9 million) of all voters, regardless of party, oppose the U.S. hollowing out Taiwan.

While Taiwanese public opinion is divided, most Taiwanese people oppose the Trump administration’s plundering of Taiwan’s semiconductor industry and also oppose war across the strait—this is the main reason for the ruling party’s sagging approval ratings.

A “distrust of America” sentiment pervades Taiwanese society, along with dissatisfaction toward the anti-China president, prompting Beijing to establish “Taiwan Restoration Day” (October 25) to evoke Taiwanese people’s historical memory of China’s recovery of Taiwan after World War II. This aims to maximize nationalism to offset separatism and reduce Taiwanese resistance to unification. At the same time, Beijing uses this move to send a clear signal to the U.S. and neighboring countries: China is determined to resolve the Taiwan issue and is working to remove all obstacles.

Beijing now holds a strong hand; even the U.S.’s “Taiwan card” has become a card China can counter with. In line with Xi Jinping’s decision-making style, he will concede when unprepared, but once fully ready, he will strike suddenly, catching the opponent off guard.

Trump should be very aware that his current position is precarious, making it hard to reverse Beijing’s advantageous stance. Even the “chip card” is no longer effective. Thus, aside from selling Taiwan, he has no other good options—and this is the situation most feared by Taiwan’s elites: the window for “maintaining the status quo” is closing.

However, the sentiments of Taiwan’s elites are also shifting with the situation. Due to the KMT’s policy pivot, more and more Taiwanese elites may pragmatically reassess Taiwan’s future in the coming years, as KMT supporters lead the way, turning back to demand that elites devise countermeasures to change cross-strait relations and foster peace.

When U.S. hawks emphasize “Taiwan is not for sale,” it ironically highlights America’s intent to sell Taiwan. Yet, if this can lead to a peaceful resolution, the trend should be welcomed rather than doubted. After all, there are no winners in war, and those sacrificed are often innocent civilians.

Taiwan is for sale—the buyer is only one. The fear is that Trump might overprice it, backfiring and once again squandering his chance at a Nobel Peace Prize.

When a Danish-flagged tanker named Torm Agnes quietly pulled into Mexico’s Port of Ensenada this spring, few took notice. The harbor, better known for cruise liners and pleasure yachts, seemed an unlikely setting for a large-scale energy delivery. But what followed was no ordinary unloading. Within hours, convoys of fuel-hauling trucks began siphoning off diesel from the tanker under the cover of night, an industrial cover that occurred so fast that witnesses said it operated “like clockwork.”

By morning, much of the shipment, worth roughly $12 million, had vanished into the Mexican black market. On paper, the cargo was listed as lubricants, exempt from Mexico’s high import taxes. In reality, it was a vast quantity of U.S.-sourced diesel smuggled by intermediaries working with one of Mexico’s most violent cartels; the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, or CJNG.

This was not a one-off operation. It was part of a sprawling, billion-dollar criminal enterprise linking Mexican cartels, U.S. traders, corrupt officials, and global shipping firms into what security analysts are now calling a “dark fleet.” And it underscores a deeper truth: the cartelization of Mexico’s energy market is no longer a localized issue, it’s a geopolitical problem touching the heart of North American trade, governance, and security.

A New Market Touched by Cartels:

For decades, Mexico’s cartels made their fortune in narcotics. Today, they are energy traders, exploiting systemic weaknesses in Mexico’s tax system and infrastructure to build empires rivaling legitimate fuel companies. According to Mexican officials, bootleg imports may now account for up to one-third of the country’s diesel and gasoline market, worth more than $20 billion a year.

The genius of the scheme lies in its simplicity. Mexico’s IEPS tax, a levy on imported fuels often exceeding 50% of a shipment’s value, creates a powerful incentive to cheat. Smugglers evade this tax by falsifying cargo documents, claiming their shipments contain lubricants or petrochemical additives, both of which are tax-exempt. The fake paperwork passes through customs with the help of bribes, while the actual diesel or gasoline floods Mexican markets at a discount.

Companies like Houston-based Ikon Midstream, which bought and shipped the Torm Agnes cargo, occupy the gray zone between legality and complicity. The firm purchased diesel in Canada, disguised it as lubricants in customs documents, and sent it to a Monterrey-based recipient called Intanza, a company authorities now suspect is a CJNG front.

It is the blending of formal and criminal economies that makes this phenomenon so dangerous. What once required violent pipeline theft now operates as a hybrid supply chain, complete with invoices, shipping manifests, and trade intermediaries. The same global infrastructure that powers legitimate energy commerce has been repurposed for organized crime.

The American connection:

The Ensenada case illustrates how deeply intertwined U.S. and Mexican energy systems have become. Nearly all the smuggled fuel originates in the United States or Canada. It passes through American ports, refineries, and shipping brokers, some unwitting, others complicit.

Texas, long a hub for legitimate fuel exports, has also become fertile ground for illicit operations. “The cartels have infiltrated many legitimate businesses along the border and further north,” warned Texas State Senator Juan Hinojosa, who has pushed for stricter licensing of fuel depots and transporters.

The U.S. Treasury Department and the Office of Foreign Assets Control  have since begun sanctioning dozens of Mexican nationals and companies tied to CJNG’s fuel operations. Yet the challenge lies in the complex nature of the trade; each shipment can involve multiple shell companies, international middlemen, and falsified documents. Even major firms like Torm, one of the world’s largest tanker operators, have been drawn into controversy. The company says it cut ties with Ikon Midstream after the Ensenada operation became public, citing contractual deception.

Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Justice has already prosecuted American citizens for aiding cartel-linked fuel schemes. In May, a Utah father and son were charged with laundering money and supplying material support to CJNG by helping smuggle Mexican crude oil. Such cases highlight that America’s own regulatory and commercial systems are being leveraged to sustain the very criminal organizations Washington seeks to dismantle.

Mexico’s Shaky Governance:

For Mexico, the rise of cartel fuel empires is not just an economic issue, it’s an existential one. The Mexican Navy, once regarded as among the country’s least corrupt institutions, is now under internal investigation for its role in facilitating smuggling at ports. Senior naval and customs officials have been arrested in connection with illegal tanker operations, while President Claudia Sheinbaum’s administration has made combating fuel theft a cornerstone of its early tenure.

But even high-profile seizures barely scratch the surface. Since Sheinbaum took office in late 2024, authorities have confiscated an estimated 500,000 barrels of illegal fuel, less than a fraction of the $20 billion trade. Prosecutors investigating the racket face mortal danger. In August, Tamaulipas’ federal prosecutor was assassinated after leading raids that uncovered more than 1.8 million liters of illicit fuel.

This combination of organized crime, corruption, and governance failure is a hallmark of what political scientists call “criminal capture”, the point at which state institutions become functionally co-opted by illicit economies. With cartels operating as false energy corporations, Mexico’s sovereignty over its own fuel sector is seemingly a facade.

The Global Shadow Market:

The implications stretch beyond Mexico. The term “dark fleet” was first used to describe tankers smuggling sanctioned Russian and Iranian oil. Now, it applies equally to the vessels carrying contraband fuel across the Gulf of Mexico and Pacific coastlines.

These ships exploit the same legal and logistical loopholes that sustain global energy markets; open registries, layered ownership, and limited oversight in maritime trade. Once a vessel’s cargo is reclassified or offloaded at an unsanctioned port, tracing its origins becomes almost impossible.

For Western energy giants, this black-market competition is tangible. Shell’s decision to sell its retail operations in Mexico earlier this year was due in part to its inability to compete with cheaper cartel-supplied fuel. Bootleg diesel sells at a 5–10% discount below legitimate imports, enough to distort prices across an entire sector.

Meanwhile, the illusion of “cheap” fuel comes at extraordinary cost. Mexico’s treasury loses billions in tax revenue annually, honest importers are squeezed out, and legitimate workers are drawn into dangerous informal economies. The trade also erodes trust in North America’s supply chains, just as Washington and Mexico City struggle to deepen cross-border economic integration under the USMCA framework.

Cartel Infiltration into Trade Routes:

The evolution of cartels from narcotics traffickers to fuel traders reflects a broader transformation in organized crime. Cartels have always been adaptive enterprises, but their pivot into energy reveals strategy: fuel is legal, high-margin, and logistically complex, making it perfect for laundering money under the guise of legitimate trade.

In this new landscape, the line between criminal and commercial actor has blurred beyond recognition. A U.S. trader signing a fuel invoice in Houston may be unknowingly financing a cartel warehouse in Jalisco. A Danish shipping company fulfilling a contract may inadvertently be enabling tax evasion worth millions. And a Mexican port official turning a blind eye may be advancing the interests of a criminal enterprise larger than the state itself.

The Torm Agnes episode is not merely a tale of smuggling; it is an example showcasing globalization’s vulnerabilities. As supply chains grow more complex and opaque, the ability of states to control what passes through their borders diminishes.

What’s Next?

Mexico’s “dark fleet” is more than a law enforcement issue, it’s a test of North America’s supply chain security. If cartels can operate international fuel logistics networks using legitimate Western infrastructure, the implications reach far beyond Ensenada. It raises fundamental questions about regulation, accountability, and the complicity embedded in global commerce.

President Sheinbaum’s crackdown, combined with U.S. sanctions, suggests the beginnings of a coordinated response. But the scale of the challenge is daunting. As one former OFAC official put it, “The cartels are not just criminals anymore, they’re businessmen with global reach.”

Whether Washington and Mexico City can curb this hybrid economy will define not just the future of bilateral relations, but the credibility and stability of the global energy system itself.

In recent months, a series of videos surfaced on Donald Trump’s social-media platform, showing what appeared to be drone footage of small vessels exploding somewhere in the Caribbean. The clips were accompanied by triumphant statements from the former president, who claimed that U.S. forces had struck “drug boats” operated by Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua cartel as they ferried narcotics toward the American coastline. Within hours of the first announcement, officials confirmed that “multiple interdictions” had taken place, that several suspected traffickers were dead, and that survivors were in custody.

For Washington, the operation was presented as a new frontier in counter-narcotics self-defense. For much of Latin America, it looked alarmingly like extrajudicial warfare. Colombia’s president protested that one of the destroyed boats had been Colombian, carrying his own citizens. Caracas called the attacks “acts of piracy.” And legal scholars, both in the United States and abroad, began to question not only the strikes’ legitimacy under international law but also who, exactly, had carried them out.

The Law of the Sea Meets the War on Drugs

The United States is not a signatory to the 1982 U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea, yet successive administrations have claimed to act “in a manner consistent” with its provisions. Under that framework, ships on the high seas enjoy freedom of navigation. Interference is allowed only in narrow cases such as piracy, slavery, or “hot pursuit” when a vessel flees territorial waters after violating a state’s laws. The deliberate destruction of a boat on the open ocean—without proof of an immediate threat—sits uneasily within those boundaries.

“Force can be used to stop a boat,” observed Luke Moffett of Queen’s University Belfast, “but it must be reasonable and necessary in self-defense where there is an immediate threat of serious injury or loss of life.” Nothing in the public record suggests the crews of these vessels fired upon U.S. assets. The claim of self-defense, therefore, stretches maritime law close to breaking point.

International law’s broader prohibition on the use of force, codified in Article 2(4) of the U.N. Charter, is equally uncompromising. Only an armed attack, or an imminent threat of one, allows a state to respond with force in self-defense. Trump’s officials insist that Tren de Aragua constitutes a transnational terrorist organization waging “irregular warfare” against the United States. Yet, as Michael Becker of Trinity College Dublin argues, “Labelling traffickers ‘narco-terrorists’ does not transform them into lawful military targets. The United States is not engaged in an armed conflict with Venezuela or with this criminal organization.”

Nonetheless, a leaked memorandum reportedly informed Congress that the administration had determined the U.S. to be in a “non-international armed conflict” with drug cartels—a remarkable claim that effectively militarizes the war on drugs. If accurate, it would mean Washington has unilaterally extended the legal geography of war to the Caribbean, with traffickers recast as enemy combatants rather than criminals.

Domestic Authority and the Elastic Presidency

The constitutional footing for these operations is no clearer. The power to declare war resides with Congress, but Article II designates the president commander-in-chief of the armed forces. Since 2001, successive presidents have leaned on the Authorization for Use of Military Force—passed in the wake of 9/11—to justify counter-terror operations across the globe. That statute, intended to target al-Qaeda and its affiliates, has been stretched from Yemen to the Sahel. Extending it to Venezuelan cartels represents another act of legal contortion.

Rumen Cholakov, a constitutional scholar at King’s College London, suggests that rebranding cartels as “narco-terrorists” may be a deliberate attempt to fold them into the AUMF’s reach. But it remains uncertain whether Congress ever envisaged such an interpretation. Nor has the White House explained whether the War Powers Resolution’s requirement of prior consultation with lawmakers was honored before the first missile struck.

The Pentagon, asked to disclose its legal rationale, declined. The opacity has fuelled speculation that the operations were not conducted solely by uniformed military forces at all, but by an entirely different arm of the American state—one that operates in deeper shadows.

The “Third Option”: Covert Power and the CIA’s Ground Branch

In October, Trump confirmed that he had authorized the Central Intelligence Agency to “conduct covert operations in Venezuela.” The statement was brief, but within the intelligence world it carried enormous significance. For decades, the CIA’s Special Activities Center—once known as the Special Activities Division—has been Washington’s chosen instrument for deniable action. Its paramilitary component, the Ground Branch, recruits largely from elite special-operations units and specializes in missions that the U.S. government cannot publicly own: sabotage, targeted strikes, and the training of proxy forces.

These operations fall under Title 50 of the U.S. Code, which governs intelligence activities rather than military ones. By law, the president must issue a classified “finding” declaring that the action is necessary to advance foreign-policy objectives and must notify congressional intelligence leaders. Crucially, Title 50 operations are designed so that “the role of the United States Government will not be apparent or acknowledged publicly.”

That distinction—between covert and merely secret—sets Title 50 apart from the military’s Title 10 authority. Traditional special-operations forces under the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) operate as uniformed combatants in overt or clandestine missions authorized under defense law. Their actions are governed by the law of armed conflict, subject to military oversight, and, at least in theory, open to public accountability. CIA paramilitaries, by contrast, function outside those rules. They wear no uniforms, deny official affiliation, and are overseen not by the Pentagon but by the White House and select members of Congress.

Since 9/11, the line separating the two worlds has blurred. Joint task forces have fused intelligence officers and military commandos under hybrid authorities, allowing presidents to act quickly and quietly without triggering the political friction of formal war powers. The “drug boat” strikes appear to be the latest iteration of that model: part counter-narcotics, part counter-terrorism, and part covert action.

A Legal Twilight Zone

If CIA paramilitary officers were indeed involved, the implications are profound. A covert maritime campaign authorized under Title 50 would have required a presidential finding and congressional notification, but those documents remain classified. Conducting lethal operations at sea through the intelligence apparatus—rather than under military or law-enforcement authority—creates a twilight zone of accountability.

The law of armed conflict applies only when a genuine armed conflict exists; human rights law governs peacetime use of force. Covert paramilitary strikes sit uneasily between the two. They may infringe the sovereignty of other states without ever triggering a formal act of war, and they obscure responsibility by design. Survivors of the October strike—a Colombian and an Ecuadorian now detained by U.S. authorities—exist in a legal limbo, neither civilian nor combatant.

Mary Ellen O’Connell, professor at Notre Dame Law School, calls the rationale “utterly unconvincing.” No credible facts, she argues, justify treating these actions as lawful self-defense. “The only relevant law for peace is international law—that is, the law of treaties, human rights, and statehood.”

The Price of Secrecy

Covert action was conceived as a tool for influence and sabotage during the Cold War, not as an instrument of maritime interdiction. Applying it to counter-narcotics missions risks collapsing the boundary between espionage and war. Oversight mechanisms designed for covert influence operations struggle to accommodate lethal paramilitary campaigns. Only a handful of legislators—the so-called “Gang of Eight”—receive full briefings, and judicial review is virtually nonexistent. In practice, the president’s signature on a secret finding becomes the sole check on executive power.

The “drug boat” operations thus reveal how the United States’ shadow-war architecture has evolved since 9/11. The Special Activities Center, once reserved for coups and clandestine support to insurgents, now appears to function as an offshore strike arm for missions the military cannot legally or politically conduct. The public framing—protecting Americans from narcotics smuggling—masks a far broader assertion of authority: the right to employ lethal force anywhere, against anyone, without declaration or disclosure.

War Without War

Trump’s supporters hail the strikes as decisive. His critics see a dangerous precedent—a campaign that bypasses Congress, ignores international law, and blurs the line between defense and vigilantism. The tension runs deeper than partisanship. It touches the central question of modern U.S. power: who decides when America is at war?

The CIA’s motto for its paramilitary wing, Tertia Optio—the “third option”—was meant to describe a choice between diplomacy and open war. Yet as that option expands into an instrument of regular policy, it threatens to eclipse both. When covert action becomes a substitute for law, secrecy replaces accountability, and deniability becomes the new face of sovereignty.

Whether these “drug boats” carried cocaine or simply unlucky sailors may never be known. What is certain is that the legal boundaries of America’s global operations are eroding at sea. The United States may claim it is defending itself; international law may call it aggression. In that unresolved space—the realm of the third option—the world’s most powerful democracy is waging a war it will not name.

In the context of the US-China competition and the post-COVID-19 global economic recession reshaping the international order, Vietnam has emerged as a stable and dynamic bright spot in Southeast Asia. The concept of “the era of the Vietnamese nation’s rise,” first mentioned by General Secretary of the Communist Party of Vietnam To Lam at the 10th Central Conference of the 13th tenure, reflects the aspiration to enter a new stage of development from “renovation” to “rise.” In fact, over the past year, Vietnam has achieved a growth rate of about 5.5-6%, higher than the average of many other countries in the region. Record FDI inflows, led by technology projects of technology companies Samsung, Apple, and Intel, as the expanding “China+1” trend helps Vietnam become an important link in the global supply chain. Inflation is maintained at 3-4%, and exports and domestic consumption recover strongly, while digital transformation, green development, and the semiconductor industry are considered new growth pillars.

One of the important milestones of the year is the program of reorganizing and merging administrative units, helping to streamline the apparatus and improve the efficiency of state administration. The reduction of nearly 30% of commune-level units and more than 10% of district-level units not only saves budget costs but is also considered a step forward in institutional quality towards a professional administration.

In foreign affairs, Vietnam has shown an increasingly confident role as a middle power expanding its strategic space. The upgrade of relations with the United States to a Comprehensive Strategic Partnership puts Hanoi among the few countries that maintain special relations with both Washington and Beijing. Relations with Japan, South Korea, India, and Australia continue to be strengthened, while cooperation channels and mechanisms for controlling maritime disputes with China are maintained stably.

Multilaterally, Vietnam has shown a more proactive role in ASEAN and actively participated in global initiatives on climate and energy. Its image as a trustworthy, constructive, and balanced country has been reinforced, helping Vietnam to enhance its position in the reshaping regional structure.

However, despite many positive results, Vietnam’s growth still relies heavily on capital flows from the FDI sector, while domestic enterprises lack competitiveness. Labor productivity growth is slow, the efficiency of state-owned enterprises is still low, and institutional reforms have not created breakthroughs. These are barriers that put Vietnam at risk of being stuck in the “middle-income trap.”

On the social front, Vietnam faces challenges of climate change, development disparities, and rapid population aging. The Mekong Delta is being severely impacted by rising sea levels and saltwater intrusion. These pressures require more inclusive and sustainable development policies.

Politically, the anti-corruption campaign continues to strengthen the legitimacy of the regime and national leadership. However, fear of accountability and slow decision-making are hampering the effectiveness of administrative unit mergers. Vietnam still needs extensive institutional reforms to promote transparency, innovation, and accountability to the people as the foundation for modern state governance.

In the coming time, Vietnam’s “rising” prospects in the period 2025-2030 depend on the ability to take advantage of opportunities from the wave of global supply chain shifts. The shift of supply chains away from China, along with trade agreements such as CPTPP, EVFTA, and RCEP, significantly expands the economic space. The young population base and expanding middle class give Vietnam the potential to maintain strong growth momentum in the coming decade.

However, opportunities always come with risks. Over-reliance on FDI can lead to the situation of the “FDI dependency trap.” Therefore, strong investment priority should be given to supporting industries, education, and science and technology as key factors to enhance self-reliance and domestic value.

On the foreign front, Hanoi will need to continue to maintain a delicate balance between the great powers. Deepening ties with the US and the West in technology and energy must go hand in hand with maintaining stable relations with China, its largest trading partner and strategic challenge. The East Sea, maritime security, and strategic supply chains will continue to be a test of Vietnam’s diplomatic mettle of “multilateralization and diversification.”

In conclusion, Vietnam’s “Era of Rising Power” can only be realized if the country turns its current momentum into long-term competitiveness. This requires institutional reform, productivity enhancement, and a shift to an inclusive growth model. If successful, Vietnam can position itself as a dynamic middle-class economy and contribute to the formation of a more balanced regional order in the coming decade.

The past year has shown that Vietnam is at a pivotal moment with great potential but also full of challenges. The “era of rising up” is therefore not just a political slogan but a real test of Vietnam’s leadership, reform, and integration capacity in a turbulent world.

The United States has imposed multiple sanctions on Chinese companies for assisting the Russian military-industrial complex in its war against Ukraine. The US Department of Commerce and the Treasury alleged that several Chinese companies evaded US sanctions by selling sensitive technology needed by Russia to manufacture military weapons. One of these Chinese companies subject to US sanctions and its military dealings with Russia is “Sino Electronics Chinese Company,” which is considered as a part of a network of companies that has allegedly sent shipments worth approximately $200 million to Russia since the Chinese company was placed on the US sanctions list in September 2022. The shipments sent by the “Chinese Sino Network” to Russia included several microchips, cameras, and navigation equipment, technologies critical to Russian weapons used in its war with Ukraine, according to US accusations against Beijing.

 These measures include broad US sanctions in 2024 and 2025 targeting entities in China and several other countries that support Russia’s war efforts. In October 2024, the US Treasury Department imposed sanctions on two Chinese drone companies, accusing them of participating in the production and supply of long-range attack drones to the Russian Air Force. Immediately following, in May 2024, US sanctions targeted Chinese companies and companies in several other countries for allegedly supplying electronic components and chemicals used in the manufacture of Russian weapons and missiles. US Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen also warned that “the United States will take action against any Chinese companies that assist Russia in its efforts to obtain military supplies.” As a result of these US sanctions, Chinese banks have become more cautious in dealing with Russia, leading to a slowdown in trade between the two countries during 2024.

  Since July 2025, the United States has threatened to impose secondary sanctions on any entity that continues to cooperate with Russia in an attempt to isolate Moscow by striking its cross-border trade networks, particularly with China. Secondary sanctions target third parties that deal with the directly sanctioned country, Russia in particular.  The sanctions are not imposed because of the actions of the third party, but rather because of its economic ties to the sanctioned entity. Washington uses these sanctions to deter any entity that might indirectly contribute to supporting the sanctioned regime or helping it circumvent sanctions. In 2018, the United States imposed sanctions on a Chinese bank for allegedly conducting financial transactions with North Korea, even though the bank itself had not previously been subject to any sanctions.

 A series of US sanctions on China have been imposed, alleging its military cooperation with Russia in its war against Ukraine. In July 2025, US intelligence reports alleged that Chinese companies were shipping engines to the Russian arms company IEMZ Kupol by mislabeling them to evade sanctions.

The US Department of Commerce expanded its blacklist of Chinese companies and state-owned entities, alleging their cooperation with Russia and supporting it in its war against Ukraine. The US Department of Commerce added several Chinese companies to the US blacklist, including Shanghai Fudan Microelectronics, which was added to the US list of banned Chinese companies for supplying technology to the Russian military sector. Washington also imposed controls on the Chinese export sector, expanding export control restrictions to include Chinese companies that are 50% or more state-owned, as well as entities on the US blacklist. 

 Here, China has rejected all US accusations regarding its dealings with Russian military companies in its war against Ukraine. Beijing has repeatedly denied US accusations of providing military support to Russia. China has also taken several countermeasures, such as imposing sanctions on US companies, in a move to escalate trade tensions between the two countries. Regarding China’s response to US sanctions, China has publicly rejected all these accusations. At the same time, these US sanctions have raised concerns among Chinese banks and companies about secondary sanctions, which may indicate that these US measures are having an impact on trade relations between China and Russia.

 As for China’s official response to the US sanctions imposed on it for its dealings with Russia, the Chinese Foreign Ministry confirmed in an official statement that the United States, by demanding that countries stop purchasing Russian oil, is participating in threatening and undermining international trade.  In response to Trump’s threats regarding the purchase of Russian oil, the Chinese Foreign Ministry said in a statement that “China will take decisive countermeasures if its legitimate rights and interests are harmed, and that China opposes the United States using Beijing as a pretext to impose illegal unilateral sanctions on the Russian side.” The Chinese Foreign Ministry also stressed that “China has lodged a protest with Britain regarding the inclusion of Chinese companies on the sanctions list against Russia. Cooperation between Russian and Chinese companies should not be subject to interference or influence.” The Chinese Foreign Ministry also commented on the British sanctions imposed on it for allegedly dealing with Russian companies and entities, saying that “Beijing will take necessary measures to safeguard its legitimate rights and interests.”

 China has categorically rejected all unilateral US sanctions against it, and the punitive tariffs imposed by Trump have angered Beijing. However, unlike Europe or other countries, China has shown confidence, with official Chinese authorities declaring that “it will fight to the end.” An official statement issued by China on October 13, 2025, stated that “threatening to impose high tariffs is not the right way to negotiate with China. The United States must adjust its position.” Beijing has already responded by imposing counter-tariffs and restrictions on US exports, including rare earths.

 As for the nature of the sanctions directed against Russia in 2025, these new US sanctions focus on indirectly strangling the Russian economy by pressuring countries and companies that deal with Moscow in strategic sectors such as energy, metals, and technology. In July 2025, US President Donald Trump announced a 50-day deadline for reaching a peace agreement between Russia and Ukraine; otherwise, tariffs of up to 100% would be imposed on countries importing Russian oil or gas. Meanwhile, the US Congress is discussing a bill that would impose tariffs of up to 500% on Russian exports, including secondary sanctions on financing or transporting entities.  Trump warned that all companies dealing with Russia, especially Chinese companies, entities, and institutions, particularly those operating in the technology and metals sectors, could be barred from entering the US market or using the international financial system.

  Finally, regarding the impact of these unilateral US sanctions on China and other countries for allegedly dealing with Russian companies, I believe these US threats will not go unchallenged, as they could undermine confidence in the global economic system and raise questions about who has the right to punish whom and under what international legitimacy? Applying this to Russia, we find that Moscow is linked to extensive trade networks with major economies in strategic sectors such as energy, minerals, and food. These Russian entanglements with global economies make attempts to isolate Moscow a test not only of Washington’s ability but also of the ability of the entire global system to bear the cost of confrontation.

For Trump followers, his offer of a 20 to 40 billion economic assistance to Argentina came as a shock. For a government that emphasizes not spending American tax payers’ money abroad the record high foreign debt defaulter and agrobusiness competitor Argentina is a puzzling choice.

However, there are profound reasons for this outcome. In what follows, I will try to explain them. The first two motives are the most obvious ones, but I promise that the following two are the ones that are not that apparent though interesting to read.

The first reason, and more obvious one, is the ideological congruence between the executives. The Argentine president Milei shares Trump’s anti woke ideology, it has always been a Trump supporter and shares with him a deep-seated rejection for leftist governments and ideologies. However, whereas Trump is an economic nationalist, Milei brands himself as an “anarcho-capitalist” that profoundly believes that the powers of free market should reign without interference in order for economies and societies to succeed.

Secondly, next Sunday Milei will face a crucial midterm election. In a last September legislative vote in the crucial Buenos Aires province (that accounts for 40% of Argentina’s population) he lost against his arch rivals, the Peronist Party. The Peronist coalition, that governed Argentina for the most part of the last 25 years, held a leftist ideology that privileged bilateral relations with China over the US and that is a staunch critic of Trump’s policies. The following Monday, the Argentine peso faced very strong devaluation pressures that ended up drying up the Central Bank’s reserves.

Third, the US grand strategy has been under a deep transformation, at least since Obama`s presidency. It has been progressively withdrawing from the Middle East while focusing more on China. It has also demanded the Europeans (and also its allies in East Asians) to up their defence spending. This relative withdrawal is somewhat compensated by an increase of attention in its own neighbourhood, the Americas. It is under this lens that we can understand the recent US military actions against the Maduro regime in Venezuela, the suspension of economic aid to leftist governed Colombia and the huge tariffs applied to also leftist governed Brazil. Being Mexico also governed by a (somewhat pragmatic) leftist party and having in Chilean President Boric a staunch critic of Trump`s policies, the US is left with very few friends in the region. Right now, the only welcoming ally from a large country in the Americas is Argentina`s Milei.

Fourth, from the Argentine side, a change in the strategic outlook in part of its elites is also paving the way for an alliance with the US. The current Argentine executive, in its quest to achieve macroeconomic stability has as its most coveted goal the dollarization of the economy. This is the endpoint of the pro market economic reforms under way. At the same time, the Milei government supports the US and Israel in a fashion unseen in Argentine history. Worldwide, there are not many countries supporting the Trump agenda as thoroughly as Argentina.

There are strong indications that the deepening of the alliance between the US and Argentina is under way. However, near future events might change this course. Next month there will be presidential elections in Chile, while Colombia and Brazil will have theirs in May and October respectively. A win by the opposition in any of these countries will devalued the strategic relevance that Argentina holds right now. Secondly, will Trump successors double in an alliance with a country that has never been considered strategic for US interests? Finally, there is the question of Milei`s political future in Argentina. Good part of his ambitions and of Argentina’s grand strategy will be risked in next elections.

A Russian drone has killed two Ukrainian journalists and wounded another in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kramatorsk, according to their outlet and the regional governor of the Donetsk region.

Freedom Media, a state-funded news organisation, said on Thursday that Olena Gramova, 43, and Yevgen Karmazin, 33, had been killed by a Russian Lancet drone while in their car at a petrol station in the industrial city. Another reporter, Alexander Kolychev, was hospitalised after the attack.

The Donetsk regional governor earlier announced details of the strike and posted images showing the charred remains of the journalists’ car, according to the AFP news agency.

Freedom Media said that Gramova, a native of Yenakiieve in the Donetsk region, had originally trained as a “finance specialist”, but turned to journalism in 2014, the year when Russia annexed Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula, and started arming a separatist movement in Donetsk and Luhansk in the Donbas.

Karmazin was born in Kramatorsk, also in Donetsk. The outlet said he “joined Ukraine’s international broadcasting channels as a cameraman in 2021”.

“From day one, they were there, covering evacuations, war crimes, soldier stories,” said the Kyiv Post in a post on X.

A Russian Lancet drone tore through Kramatorsk, killing Ukrainian journalist Olena Hubanova and cameraman Yevhen Karmazin as they documented the war from the front lines.

From day one, they were there — covering evacuations, war crimes, soldier stories.

Now they’re gone. pic.twitter.com/TNTN8H7nFd

— KyivPost (@KyivPost) October 23, 2025

Kramatorsk, which had a pre-war population of about 150,000 people, is one of the few remaining civilian hubs in the Donetsk region still under Ukrainian control.

Russian forces are approximately 16 kilometres (10 miles) from the city, where officials earlier this month announced the mandatory evacuation of children from some parts of the town and outlying villages.

Record numbers of journalists killed in conflict

The proliferation of cheap but deadly drones used both by Russian and Ukrainian forces has made reporting from the front-line regions of Ukraine increasingly dangerous.

Earlier in October, French photojournalist Antoni Lallican was killed by a drone near the eastern city of Druzhkivka, located in the Donetsk region.

Lallican had been killed by a “targeted strike” from a first-person-view drone, which allows operators to see their target before striking, according to Ukrainian forces cited by the European Federation of Journalists.

Precise tolls of journalists killed since the war started in 2022 vary. The Committee for the Protection of Journalists says that 17 journalists – Ukrainian and international – have been killed so far. The deaths of Gramova and Karmazin would bring that total to 19.

UNESCO said earlier this month that at least 23 media workers have been killed on both sides of the front line, including three Russian state media journalists in March. In mid-October, Russian war correspondent Ivan Zuyev was killed by a Ukrainian drone strike in the southern Zaporizhia region, according to state news agency RIA.

Recent years have seen record numbers of journalists killed in conflicts, the toll disproportionately accelerated by deaths in Gaza, where Israeli forces have deliberately targeted media workers like Al Jazeera’s Anas al-Sharif and Mohammad Salama, Reuters cameraman Hussam al-Masri, and Mariam Abu Daqqa, a freelance journalist working for AP.

Again, reports on deaths since the start of the two-year Gaza war differ. The United Nations said that 242 journalists had been killed by August this year. A tally by Shireen.ps, a monitoring website named after murdered Al Jazeera journalist Shireen Abu Akleh, said Israeli forces had killed more than 270 journalists and media workers over the same period.

​​Either way, more journalists have been killed in Gaza than in the United States Civil War, both World Wars, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the wars in the former Yugoslavia and the post-9/11 war in Afghanistan combined, according to Brown University’s Costs of War project.

This week, legislators from over 120 national parliaments are meeting in Geneva to assess the world’s collective response to humanitarian crises.

Unprecedented rates of armed violence and forced displacement, together with climate change, public health emergencies, and food insecurity, have combined with the disintegration of our systems for international solidarity.

This has created a toxic cocktail that is causing untold suffering and costing lives.

The numbers are staggering. More than 122 million people are forcibly displaced, and almost 310 million people need humanitarian assistance.

As is so often the case, the vulnerable are the most brutally affected. One in every five children in the world—approximately 400 million—are living in or fleeing conflict zones.

Children caught up in crises often face the double jeopardy of losing their homes and their education.

Before entering parliament, I was a teacher, drawn to the profession because I knew how crucial education is to children.

But education is often the first casualty during crises and too frequently neglected by an overstretched and underfunded humanitarian system.

As a result, 234 million crisis-affected children and adolescents need urgent educational support, and over 85 million are out of school.

Depriving children in these contexts of an education robs them not just of the opportunity to learn the vital skills they need for life but also to a platform to receive life-saving services like food, water, and basic health care.

Thankfully, in many crisis situations where governments lack the resources to provide education, local and international non-government organisations step in and help ensure that children get the chance to go to school.

However, the drastic cuts to development and humanitarian assistance that many countries have made this year are putting this vital work at risk.

Projections indicate that total official development assistance for education may decline by USD3.2 billion by 2026, representing a nearly 25 percent decrease from 2023 – which could potentially displace another six million children from school in the coming months.

Earlier this year, humanitarian appeals were slashed by up to 90 percent in Sudan and Chad, leaving 33 million adults and children in need of life-saving assistance, without any support.

Despite a record number of refugees, the UN refugee agency, UNHCR, has received only a quarter of the funding that it needs in 2025, forcing it to halt or suspend about $1.4 billion in programs and to slash more than one-third of its education budget.

In the refugee camps that host Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh, up to half a million boys and girls are now left without any form of schooling.

Ninety per cent of the world’s refugees live in low- and middle-income countries whose education systems already struggle to ensure every child is in school and learning.

In such cases, it is evident that host countries need support from the international community to provide the refugees they are hosting with access to education.

Education is also what crisis-affected communities want. Displaced parents and children consistently identify access to quality education as one of their highest-priority concerns.

Despite the enduring hardships they face, the determination of displaced communities to provide their children with an education is inspiring. They deserve our support.

That is why I am proud that Denmark, where I am a member of the national parliament, has affirmed its commitment to provide aid funding at or above the UN target of 0.7% of its gross national income (GNI).

With crises and conflicts multiplying around the world, it is more necessary than ever to strengthen international solidarity, and I hope that Denmark can inspire others to renew their commitment to solidarity through development cooperation and humanitarian assistance.

Tragically, a lack of funding is not the only threat to humanitarian response. The most fundamental humanitarian norms are being challenged in today’s war zones.

Current conflicts show, in appalling and devastating ways, the significant challenges facing international humanitarian law in providing effective and meaningful protection for people affected by armed conflicts.

Once again, education proves the point.

In 2022 and 2023 – the latest years for which comprehensive data is available – there were around 6,000 reported attacks on education and incidents of military use of schools and universities, harming more than 10,000 students and educators globally.

This represents a 20% increase on the previous two years, and the fear is that the number and severity of attacks on education personnel, facilities, and schools has continued to grow.

But there is a different way.

In 2015, Argentina and Norway launched the Safe Schools Declaration with the objective of avoiding military use of schools and strengthening the protection of children and education in conflict. It has since been adopted by 121 states.

Meanwhile, just last year, the International Committee of the Red Cross launched a global initiative to galvanize political commitment to international humanitarian law (IHL). Some 89 states have signed up to support the initiative.

International cooperation, like these initiatives, to address global challenges, has never been more critical.

As the institutions that represent the people, parliaments are uniquely positioned to mobilize political will, champion inclusive governance and dialogue, challenge narratives, and be the voice of the most vulnerable.

Parliaments are also key actors in translating global humanitarian norms into domestic legislation and policy, scrutinizing government action over humanitarian commitments, and allocating resources to tackle pressing humanitarian challenges.

Right now, parliamentary diplomacy – MPs from different parliaments talking and working together – has the opportunity to play a pivotal role in reinforcing multilateral values such as inclusion, solidarity, cooperation, shared responsibility, and the rules-based international order.

This week’s meeting of national parliaments in Geneva won’t solve the multiple crises we face, but it might just begin the process of reminding us that the challenges we face are global in nature and need global solutions, and forging new people-to-people relationships to do precisely that.

Bolivia’s presidential runoff on October 19^th 2025, marked a major political shift for the country. For the first time since 2005, no candidate from Evo Morales’s Movement Toward Socialism (MAS) party is on the voting ballot. In the August primary, centrist Rodrigo Paz won 32.2% of the vote versus only 3.2% for the official MAS ticket, while conservative former president Jorge “Tuto” Quiroga was second with about 27%. With MAS’s candidate trounced, Paz and Quiroga, both market-friendly, right-leaning politicians advanced to the runoff.

This officially put an end to MAS’s two-decade dominance and will establish Bolivia’s first non-MAS government in nearly twenty years. Analysts see this as a turning point, a moment when Bolivia moves away from the leftist model that defined the Morales era.

Legacy of Morales and the “MAS” Era

MAS, founded by President Evo Morales in the early 2000s, reshaped Bolivia’s politics and economy. Morales, who served from 2006 to 2019, was the country’s first indigenous head of state. Under his rule, poverty fell sharply, and millions of bolivians moved up into the middle class.

Critics say the party became overly centralized and failed to diversify the economy before gas revenues fell. Questions over term limits and alleged corruption defined Morales’s later years, culminating in his ouster in 2019 amid disputed elections and unrest. Even after Morales went into exile, MAS remained powerful, with Luis Arce, Morales’s former economy minister, winning the presidency in 2020.

By 2025, MAS no longer had the popularity it once took for granted. Voters cited inflation at a 40-year high and fuel shortages.

The Two Right-Wing Contenders

Rodrigo Paz, a senator and son of a former president, ran as a centrist populist in the Christian Democratic Party. He vowed to maintain social programs for the poor while promoting private-sector-led growth. Paz campaigned on a moderate platform: decentralize government spending, give tax incentives to small businesses, and phase out fuel subsidies gradually.

Jorge “Tuto” Quiroga is a veteran conservative. He served briefly as president in 2001-02 and campaigned on a bold austerity agenda, deep cuts to public spending and wanting to abolish or privatize loss-making state firms. Quiroga pitched himself as a reformer, arguing that the country is broke and pledging dramatic, radical change. In debate, he framed Bolivia’s last 20 years as lost and promised a return to business-friendly policies and property rights.

Shifting Alliances Abroad: From China and Russia to the U.S.

The expected rightward turn will reshape Bolivia’s foreign policy. Under Morales and Arce, Bolivia had aligned itself mostly with China and Russia. Chinese firms had multibillion-dollar lithium contracts, and Russia’s Rosatom planned a lithium plant in return for Bolivian uranium access. The MAS government often distanced Bolivia from Washington.

Now, both Paz and Quiroga pledge the opposite: a return to the U.S. orbit. They argue that better U.S. relations can bring investment, aid and energy deals. The U.S. State Department has already praised the election as a transformative opportunity, with Secretary Marco Rubio saying both candidates want stronger, better relations with the United States.

The U.S. may seize the chance to expand its footprint, as it did recently in Argentina, by offering aid or investment in exchange for political alignment. That would be a dramatic flip, with some observers framing the vote as a pro-market shift and U.S. embrace. Argentina and Bolivia’s swings may reveal the fate of other similar political regimes in Latin America, such as Chile’s and Colombia’s upcoming elections.

Domestic Impact and the Path Ahead

Domestically, the new government will face immediate challenges, like the economy having inflation above 20%, empty reserves, and protests over low growth. Paz and Quiroga both promise stimulus, insisting that fuel and social programs will not vanish overnight. Economists warn the fiscal hole is immense, meaning politically unpopular changes are unavoidable.

Any cutbacks will anger MAS’s former base. The powerful miners’ union COB has already warned it will oppose any threats to the social and economic gains of the 2010s. Indigenous groups and rural voters, whose support lifted MAS to power, may feel betrayed if subsidies and jobs are slashed. Paz and Quiroga will need to show voters they can fix the economy without undoing all of Morales’s legacy.

Both candidates have signaled that Bolivia will de-emphasize its former leftist alignment and turn east to west. For U.S. and European observers, that could perhaps mean more cooperation on trade, investment and regional security. But it also raises questions: will Bolivia’s rich lithium and natural-gas resources be opened more to Western firms and can the country still maintain the social gains of the MAS years under a pro-market agenda?

As Paz himself said, “ideologies don’t put food on the table”. Voters clearly decided they wanted change, but whether that leads to better conditions or new problems for Bolivia will depend on how this new government balances its reforms.

With information from Reuters.

In a realist world, power is rarely exercised alone. It takes coordination, sustained support, and mutual loyalty to project strength. That is the foundation of any enduring alliance. Since the Cold War, Western powers have built a sophisticated web of strategic alliances, sometimes tested but still intact. Even amid nationalist disruptions under figures like Donald Trump or Viktor Orbán, the Western alliance remains functional and coherent. But what about the non-Western bloc, Russia, China, Iran, North Korea, Cuba, and others?

The truth is that non-Western alliances remain weak, fragmented, and often symbolic. Lacking geographic proximity, institutional architecture, or political cohesion, these alliances fail to act in unison, especially in moments of crisis. Military cooperation, defense technology sharing, and strategic communication remain alarmingly underdeveloped.

The recent Israeli attack on Iran exposed this blatantly. Reportedly Isreal forces used the Jordanian and Iraqi airspace, struck Iranian nuclear and military facilities, killing multiple top officials. While rumors circulated about an imminent war, Iran’s response was surprisingly feeble. It’s defense systems failed to intercept the attacks, and its military preparedness appeared outdated from the start. But recent retaliation followed a little bit of promise.

The United States denied direct involvement. Yet Washington, alongside the European allies, refrained from condemning the strike. Germany, France, and the United Kingdom stood silent, indirectly backing Israel through intelligence sharing, military cooperation, and diplomatic support. Their strategic coordination remains strong, despite tensions over Iran’s nuclear program.

What about Iran’s Non-Western allies?

Russia, arguably Iran’s closest partner, is deeply engaged in its own war in Ukraine. Yet strategic alliances are tested precisely in such moments. Iran and Russia have long shared regional interests in Syria and other part of the Middle East. Now, that cooperation seems one-sided. While Russia uses Iranian drones in Ukraine, Tehran receives little in return. No warning, no defense coordination, and certainly no technological assistance ahead of Israel’s strike.

Why hasn’t Russia helped accelerate Iran’s nuclear program as Western powers once did for Israel? Where was the intelligence sharing, the strategic dialogue? These absences raise serious questions about Russia’s role in the non-Western alliance framework: Is it simply a transactional partner or something more?

China is a different story. With an advanced defense industry and growing geopolitical clout, Beijing has demonstrated capability. The recent deployment of Chinese J-10C jets to Pakistan, for example, during tensions with India, signaled a serious technological and symbolic counterweight to Western influence. China even provided real-time intelligence to Pakistan. But where was this level of support for Iran? Through recent rumor said, there are couple of military assistance provided to Iran but still not like ally.

A newly inaugurated Iran-China railroad project suggests growing economic ties, but modern alliances require more than trade. Strategic defense coordination is fundamental. Despite Iran’s geopolitical relevance, Beijing remains largely absent in Iran’s security calculus.

Then there is Iran’s own regional network, its so-called “axis of resistance.” Historically, Iran projected strength through proxies like Hezbollah, Hamas, and the Houthis. But this too is unraveling. Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah and Hamas political chief Ismail Haniyeh were both reportedly killed by Israeli operations, Haniyeh during an official visit in Tehran itself. These assassinations not only reflect Tehran’s inability to protect its partners but also signal a crisis of credibility. No meaningful retaliation followed. This absence of action weakens Iran’s reputation as a guarantor of its proxies’ survival.

The broader picture is troubling. Non-Western powers often operate like solo actors in a system that punishes isolation. The world is a dark forest; walk alone, and sooner or later, the wolves will find you. This is the lesson non-Western allies must internalize. Shared struggle requires shared commitment. Each country will always have its own domestic priorities, but alliances demand sacrifice, coordination, and strategic depth.

It seems like their trust-building process is yet to work. Or are they afraid to confront Western allies’ wrath over sanctions? China and Russia have been conducting business and various forms of economic cooperation with most of the Western blocs, despite sanctions threats and targeted regulations. These two nations need to step up and anchor the non-Western bloc. A multipolar world needs a table where bipolar allies can collaborate and pave the path for a democratic alliance for the world. Trump’s approach to Europe and other Western countries is not seen as a sign of alliance. So at this moment, non-Western countries can show unity. This not only gives the world new hope for cooperative living ideas but also threatens Trump’s leadership position on global order.

China has the defense capacity to empower allies but remains hesitant. Russia, once a superpower, is now locked in a war that undermines its influence and exposes its limits. In today’s geopolitical landscape, superpowers act more like coaches than players. Mediation, defense sharing, and regional stabilization efforts, rather than confrontation, are what build strategic resilience.

For the non-Western bloc, the Israel-Iran crisis must serve as a wake-up call. Without solidarity, without trust, and without strategy, they risk becoming a coalition of convenience. This also reflects unity in rhetoric but division and defeat in reality.